Disappointment
A counselor once told me that I don't handle disappointment well. Um, yeah - this was a huge shock (does sarcasm translate on blogs?). Does anyone handle it well? And just what does it mean to handle disappointment well? Does the person simply just get up and say, "Well, on to the next thing" and just forget about it? I can't seem to be able to do that. I don't even fully understand what is going in with me lately, and I'm not sure I can -or if I am supposed to.I am trying hard to come to terms with the truth that I (in my current marriage), will never have children. This absolutely killed me this past Wednesday night. I sat on the floor of the guest bedroom with the cats and wept. I hadn't put much effort into cleaning that room up, or decorating it, because, well - I had figured that we would get pregnant and use that room as a nursery someday (if we were still living there). I felt stupid and foolish. I felt unworthy and like a freak. I couldn't get over the feeling that if my husband truly and deeply loved me, that love would be so powerful that he would naturally want to have a family with me. The only thing wrong with that is, for Michael, the thought of children is not a natural one.
He told me that he had hoped that eventually he would be enough for me, and that my desire to have children would lessen or disappear completely. And I had prayed that God would change his heart. I suppose that prayer was the most selfish prayer I had been praying lately - "God, please change my husband." I was so wrong. But why would God have put the two of us together, given our extreme differences?
At both lunch and dinner yesterday, I was again reminded of the far-reaching impact of those differences. Michael sat across from me at lunch, and beside me at dinner, and was silent and unexpressive. He looked sad and tired, and (to me anyway) he looked like he would rather be anywhere but there. I tried to be upbeat and happy, and I tried to carry the conversation by asking questions about music and upcoming sporting events. I tried to talk about the food. But he barely responded. I asked several times if he was OK, and I told him I was sorry he wasn't feeling well. Though the food was very good, I really didn't have a very good time with him. And I thought back to his earlier statement about hoping that he would eventually be enough for me. And I was terrified. What is this is as good as it gets? I enjoyed my food, but wished he would have been better company.
My imagination flashed forward to the two of us on our 40th birthday six years from now. I pictured us in the same apartment, petting the same two cats, driving the same cars, struggling to get out from under debt, Michael with tenure, me in the some mind-numbing job, childless, and without anything to talk about or anything in common. I imagined Michael even more unhappy and more tired as the impact of another six long years had taken their toll. I imagined me without anyone to talk to at my 40th birthday dinner - the two of us alone at some quiet isolated spot. And I felt the panic creap up through my arms again and down into my fingertips. I tried to say something to him that was meaningful - I managed to get something out about our not having anything in common, or anything to talk about. I said we needed to build a relationship. I wondered if the people that saw us in the restaurant thought we were business associates instead of a married couple. We certainly are not the image of a couple in love.
I am at a corssroads. I do not feel compelled to stay married, nor do I feel particularly compelled to leave. I adore my husband - I want to laugh with him and experience all that is in store for us together. I don't know what to do. I don't want to be 34 and already divorced twice. All I really wanted for my life was to be a good Christian women, serve God, and have a great husband and family. I figured if we couldn't have children that we would adopt some. And I figured we would embrace it with passion and excitement and joy (at least the majority of the time). Right now, it's difficult to scrape together even a few minutes of mere contentment.
I certainly don't handle disappointment well, because for now, I simply can't say "Oh well, on to the next thing."
posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 5/20/2005 09:44:00 AM
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