Showing posts from July, 2013

The mending

I pace through the small apartment.

Waiting, waiting.  I'd called the doctor's office several times already, and always the nurse tells me that the lab work is pending.  My stomach churns, my mind wrestles through the mess of what-ifs, and still there grows inside of me this fluttering of hope.
The phone rings.  The beating of my heart quickens and I try to settle the squirming of my insides.  A nervous, "Hello?"  My hands are shaking.
"Mrs. Mohr?"  It's the doctor.  "I'm sorry. . . your numbers are dropping."
My heart falls right to the floor, and bleeds out all of the anguish I was trying to deny.  Hope flies far, and I am there, alone, with a doctor on the other line telling me what my spirit was feeling all along.
I cry quietly as I slip slowly into pain.  He questions if I am okay.  I wonder if that is even possible.
The child floats silently within me.  Stagnant, unmoving.  And now I know dreams die.  
I settle into the weekend of wa…

Learning love

It was one of THOSE days.  You know, those days when there is too much laundry piled up, too many crusty dishes in the sink, too many children arguing about too many things.  And then a bare foot makes contact with a polly pocket or a lego or whatever else is laying on the floor.  Yes, one of those.

I felt it stretching thin, my patience and self-control.  I know how it all works to push me to the breaking.  I've been near the precipice too many times to not recognize how close my toes are to the edged.  I'm teetering, I know.  I try to balance, try to breathe, try to calm as I stuff another load into the dryer.  The whole room is hot.

And then I hear a vague slapping of limbs followed by a high pitched scream, and suddenly I'm diving over the edge.

In a fit of frustration and anger I search for the perpetrator.  I'm beyond the, "Please don't hit your sibling; that's not nice" stage.  I've shot up to the, "I don't care who did what, you a…