Panning for Gold

I was reading through my Blogtopia tonite and I started feeling sorry for myself as I saw how each couple was progressing through their issues of infertility, even in day-to-day goings ons. Sure, some are facing the end of yet another unproductive cycle, pardon the pun, but they are still evolving, moving as it were, towards something. I have concerns that Jerry and I have become static in our own little world. Neither of us mention the white elephant that has snuck into our bedroom, which has been diagnosed with low sperm count and poor motility (not to mention "old eggs"). Do we want to know why? Or do we want to know if there's anything we can do about it? I do, but I have no idea if he does. I'm afraid to ask thinking I will push him, push us, out of this "comfort zone" of doing nothing into...what? I just don't know. Maybe it will move us forward, but I'm so afraid it will make us fall back. Fall into depression, resentment, finger-pointing, or even worse, silence.

It's these moments when my heart feels heavy that I am reminded that for every millisecond of sadness I feel, there is immeasurable joy.

Tonight while I was playing with Max, he asked me to lay on the floor, flat on my back. Suddenly he jumped on top of me, mommy-face to little-boy face, knocking the breath out of me in one short whoosh. Then he said, out of the clear-blue, "I love you, Mommy." and he puckered up and kissed me on the lips.

I nearly burst into tears, so unexpected and spontaneous was his declaration. Max has never been demonstrative, and usually wipes away my kisses with the sleeve of his shirt accompanied by the statement, "Boys don't like kisses," making me wonder where a 3 year old would hear such a thing. But this was my "Snap out of it!" call, loud and clear. It's these little nuggets of joy that could easily be washed away by a muddy river of sorrow and self-pity if I didn't start paying close attention.