“Good,” I always reply to the “how are you?” said in passing, or “doing well.”
That’s the expected answer, right? And the one that I receive in return when I ask the question back.
But, what if you aren’t doing good?
Sometimes, “good” just flies out of my mouth without my even thinking about it, when “surviving” might be a better word. It would certainly sometimes be more honest, I think.
But I say “good,” and carry on…
I won’t ever say that I sometimes doubt my sanity.
How I obsess over the next step to take, how I wonder where this next child, our next child. will be from, and how I worry over what people think of me when they find out our Taiwan adoption fell through.
I won’t ever say that sometimes I am relieved.
Even though I am devastated, I am relieved that it is final, at least. After years and years of waiting I know, finally, that this is a dead end, and we are free to move on.
I won’t ever say that sometimes, just sometimes, I question God.
I wonder about the perfect plan I know He has for me and for our family, and I question. I wonder what He is doing, and I sometimes wish I knew what was going on, and that I could see how it all turns out in the end. Because while I am questioning, I don’t doubt. I don’t doubt that all things will work together for good. I don’t doubt that in the end the story is going to be beautiful. But sometimes I question.
I won’t ever say how much the words can hurt…
The friends, family, even strangers who don’t understand. Those who are maybe trying to be helpful (maybe even encouraging), but don’t realize they are cutting my heart in two…
“I never thought your next child would be from Taiwan anyways,” or “why don’t you just try to get pregnant again,” and “if this is so hard, maybe you’re doing something wrong. Or, the real kicker, “maybe God just doesn’t want you to have any more kids.”
Gah, these bring out the fight in me. And they make me more sure than ever that we are meant to bring another little one home, and that God will bring him or her home when He’s ready.
What if I asked someone how they were doing, and they said “feeling a little depressed,” or “like I might be losing it.”
Hopefully I would stop, listen, empathize, and show I care. I hope people know that they can stop me, and talk to me and that they don’t always have to be “good” when I ask how they are.
I hope that when I ask how people are, my tone and my face let them know that I really care, and that I really want to know how they are, even if they are just “surviving.”