32

32 was the age I had planned to have my last child. If I had my last child at 32 then all my children would be out of the house by the time I was 50 and my husband and I would still be young enough to play. I guess it says a lot about me that I planned for when the children were gone and empty nesting would be a time of rejoicing. I just didn't want to be an old mom whom people might mistake for my children's grandmother.

As regular readers know, I will be 33 this year and have no children and no marital prospects. My life has not turned out the way I once thought it would. It's not a bad thing--it's simply different.

I don't know how to explain the emotional side of this. Turning 30 was....uncomfortably bearable. Turning 32 was.....heart-breaking.

I have severe menstrual pain. I don't have cramps, I actually have contractions and there are times they can be debilitating. This is one of the side effects/symptoms of the endocrine disorder I have that gives me a 10% chance of ever conceiving or carrying to term. About 10 years ago, when I was at BYU, I had one of these "moments" occur as I was walking across campus to go home. I normally walked the 1.5 miles home but that day I knew I wouldn't make it, so I rode the 832 bus home. When we got to my stop, I got off and slowly made my down the street, praying the whole time I would make it to my door before I passed out or knelt in the gutter to vomit from the pain.

A friend of mine saw me walking slowly--which is not my normal pace--and asked me if I was okay. I told him I was fine and he called me a liar. Which was accurate since I was NOT fine. He then asked if there was anything he could do. What I said and what I thought were 2 completely opposite things. I told him there was nothing he could do.

What I thought was this--

Is there something you could do??? How about lending me some sperm? That would be helpful. I would only need to borrow it for 40 weeks and then I would totally give it back. It would be a bit different than how it was loaned out and would have some added genetics, but I promise I will give it back. Please, just make the pain stop! Wanna make a deal? You did ask if you could help, so....?

But, I was fine and there was nothing he could do.

That's how I feel about 32. I'm fine and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm single. There are no marriage prospects. Adoptions are lengthy and require that you be married at least 2 years before you start the paperwork. Finances have to be in place to support a child. Et cetera ad infinitum. I'm fine and there's nothing you can do. Please forgive me if I go to bed and pray that I will pass out from the pain before I embarrass myself in public.

I now understand a bit what the prophet Isaiah was talking of in chapters 3 and 4, particularly Isaiah 4:1. There is a sense of mild desperation that the Lord is punishing you in some way. That there might be some man out there who would be willing to let me "be called by [his] name, to take away [my] reproach." But until an available man who desires me as his partner in eternity shows his face, my reproach stands. My body cannot do the one thing that sets me apart as female and my single state feels like the definition: "a thing that makes the failings of someone or something else more apparent."

I have accomplished much in my life and I am extremely pleased with the way my life has turned out in spite of my failed personal plans and schedules. I'm excited to be on the road I'm on now and look forward to marvelous surprises and opportunities because of this road. But, in this one aspect of my life, I feel reproached because, in some way, I have been a disappointment to my Father in Heaven. I have let him down and have been denied the blessing of companionship and offspring.

I'm fine.

There's nothing you can do.

This too shall pass.

"I believe in Christ so come what may."

But...

"There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
Phantom faces at the window.
Phantom shadows on the floor.
Empty chairs at empty tables..."

(Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, Les Misérables)