There were a number of people in the cafe with us, including a number of families with small children, who made a beeline for the play area in the corner of the cafe. Suddenly, without warning, or any inclination of what was about to happen, tears started to well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. Hubby was concerned, "What's wrong, love?" To be honest I have absolutely no idea where they came from or why I was crying over my chocolate-orange cake, but in this moment, my heart ached as I observed young children showing their parents bright, shiny toys they were enjoying playing with.
There is no limit to when the grief strikes, if there was I'd have known to avoid going out for lunch at that time. Grief just happens. It just hits you at the most inopportune moment. I dared not look at any of the faces of the parents round me, as I made my way from our table in the corner of the cafe, to the safety of the private bathroom. On a weekend, families around the world pause together as they take a break from the working week and spend time with each other.... OK, so this may not always be a good thing, but to have had the choice to be a family, to watch my own children as they played, to offer my child new food to sample, to teach them new things, these are out of my grasp. At the moment, out of my future. And that is the grief of this day.
Father God, comfort Your daughters who long for their arms to be filled with the blessing of their own child, for the womb to receive the gift of the seed of life, for the family our hearts long to love.