Watching the Clock, Wasting the Minutes, Merely Existing

From as far back as I can remember, I've always been anxious to press forward in life. There was always something to achieve, attain, graduate, seek, create, reach, {insert ambitious verb here}.

 I have an older brother who always reached milestones (logically) before I did. As a child, I was put into kindergarten early because my mom saw how much I desperately wanted to be at school like my older brother.

In high school, I counted the days until receiving my driver's license, graduating, and heading off to college.

In college, I wanted to just be done and start real life already. I really wish I could go give that girl a talking-to about now. I wanted to be done working my way through college (I waited tables) so I could get a real job and be like real people who had weekends free.

When I was teaching full time, I awaited Spring Break (ironically, schools in IL are out this week) so I'd be able to relax and do what I wanted.

After meeting my {future} husband and becoming engaged, I wanted to hurry on with life and just finally be married so we could start real life.

As we lived in Europe for 6 months, I wanted time to hurry up so we could finally settle down, buy a house, and plan out the rest of our lives. {I enjoyed Europe and the traveling aspect, but often during times we weren't traveling, felt like I was missing out on life back in the States. So silly in hindsight. I am SO thankful for that experience.}

When we moved to Illinois, I became pregnant. This was, to my knowledge, the only time in my life I didn't press forward and hope for the minutes to pass by faster. Nearing the end of my pregnancy, I did get anxiety like most women do; anxious to finally meet our new baby... but I was content with how life was going. It was going the way I wanted it to-- the way I always planned it to be. Other than being anxious to start motherhood, I didn't look too much further.

Now, I find myself counting the minutes again. Counting the minutes until I'm pregnant again. Until we finally hold our second baby in our hands. Until the workday ends so I can spend time with my husband. Until our next trip/vacation. Until my new shoes are delivered (trivial, but true). Until we are further down the grief road and can find room to breathe and answer questions with ease and without tears.

I feel like I'm wasting time. We only have one life on earth to live and although I've not been dealt all the cards I expected or wanted, I know that I need to embrace life. It's so much easier to do when you can see hope ahead or signs of recovery. Praying each day that my soul will be calmed in this state of limbo I find myself existing in at the moment.

Side note: of course as I was Googling images of "watching the clock" I found an image that I liked. I clicked on it. The irony: It was from some woman's baby blog ranting about how her son still wasn't born yet and she was tired of being pregnant. Why of course. {Sigh}