Today, after our normal morning service at church, our priest performed a quick (or, quick for an Orthodox church; we tend to be long-winded lol) prayer for Hubster and I, complete with anointing us with oil. This holy oil streams from an icon of the Theotokos (Mary, mother of Christ) in Syria, that women travel from all over the world to this ikon to pray for fertility assistance. (Even non-Orthodox women, including Muslim women go to venerate this icon) It was very touching to Hubster and I to have Father J. take the time and utilize what I can only assume must be an expensive and precious item on us.
The bliss of the moment was snagged though when I realized that a couple in the church is pregnant with their first child. Here’s the thing: in our parish, the majority of people are either older or younger than us. Until today there was only one other couple who was our age and didn’t have kids. And now they are pregnant. We are the last mid-20′s couple who do not have kids. There are older couples who do not have children (one that I know of who was hit hard with infertility) and then there are single people our age… but we stand alone as the young-should-be-fertile-couple-without-kids.
Just the other night I admitteded to Hubster amidst tears that I fear that by the time we have kids, all the current children will be too old to play with them, so our kids will grow up in the church without friends their age. It seems silly, but the vision of our children feeling alone and friendless at church breaks my heart.
Obviously, Hubster made the point that our church is rapidly growing, and the likelyhood of our kids being totally alone is rather unrealistic.
And the couple who announced their pregnancy today; I want to be happy for them, without also being sad for us. I don’t know their story, they may have struggled for this pregnancy. But there was something nice about some kind of solidarity of another childless couple.
I know that any children in our future is in God’s hands. And for the most part that is very comforting. To know that someone so much smarter and stronger than I has a plan. I know I need to let the hurt and pain go. Being sad and bitter doesn’t get me anywhere. I don’t like being sad and bitter. But I can’t help feeling like every time I turn around everyone around me is getting pregnant.
But I may just nom down on a second bowl of peanut-butter-chocolate-ice-cream, and get to bed early, maybe cry a little…. and then go into work tomorrow and put this pity party behind me.









