Empty Nest

I have a new schedule at the clinic. I now only work on Friday and Sunday - usually night shift from 10 to 7. No more 12 hour shifts. This, along with the fact that we have pretty much done everything we can to get our home ready for our child, has left me with a bit of extra unexpected time on my hands lately. This past week I haven't known what to do with myself. For the first time in years I felt like I did during my first year in Thailand. Bored. A little lonely. Slightly depressed. I've avoided thinking about it much and have instead tried to push through with getting stuff done that I've been putting off and making plans to be useful during this strange period of time of unknown length till we become parents. (I do have a few things in the works, which are sure to keep me busy but just haven't gotten going yet.)

I think the extra alone time the past few weeks and the empty days have really magnified the state of our quiet, childless home. I was feeling quite positive about my last days of childlessness last week but this week, I have swung the other way - moping around the house thinking about our child, and feeling like my days are pointless. I think I am beginning to feel a real, tangible empty space in our home and hearts for this unknown child. Not that I am lacking something emotionally and in need of a child to fill in an unhealthy, co-dependent way - I don't think that's it. I don't know how else to describe it. It just feels so obvious that something is missing. Perhaps it's the knowing our child is out there. I am 90% sure he/she is alive and being cared for by someone else and here I am available, with empty arms in a quiet house.

I think I've done relatively well with the wait so far but if this week is any indication of how the rest of the wait is going to be, it may be safe to say that this is getting more difficult for me. But it's a different kind of difficult. Before it was us wanting children in general and having to wait but now it is us already having a child that just hasn't been given to us yet. It's as if I'm in this place of experiencing emptiness and lack so that the being filled is that much sweeter (this is the hopeful way of looking at it) - like when we sometimes go through times of desert and dryness spiritually only to be filled again, and how those dark times better enable us to experience joy. I suppose this undercurrent of sad emptiness is just the discernible presence of a vacancy designed for something wonderful, yet to come, soon to be filled. God I hope It's not long. I'm starting to get tired of hearing myself talk about this.