I was in church this morning and the littlest children sang a song of praise. It was the cutest, most heart breaking little song ever. I enjoyed, smiled and laughed with the rest of them for most of it, until I couldn't ignore the sound of my heart breaking half way through the song, then I had to look away and focus on something else, anything that would allow me to not fall apart during service... and I made it! I was able to get through the service, albeit, distracted, but the whole way through without even a quiver. Once I got in my car and started driving myself home, I could feel the knot on my chest and I know from experience that if I don't let it out now it will ruin the rest of my day. So I let myself cry. I cried for the pain in my heart, I grieved for the child I did not get to teach that sweet little song.
I think that one of the reasons I have pushed away treatment and pushed the idea of adoption to the back of my mind, besides not allowing it to consume my life, is that I feel that my heart is too broken. I feel it is so broken it will not mend, and that my broken heart is not worthy of offering to an innocent, small child. I worry that I am too scarred, that I have built up such tough scar tissue that I can no longer be the mother that I wanted to be. That I will be guarded, and scared to love too much that I may be a mediocre mother.
And these are my deepest darkest fears...
No comments:
Post a Comment