Hush

There is an emptiness inside that I can't explain. Or I think I can but why bother to explain anything? Life is now. Life was also then and more of life is yet to happen.

It is hard to write about because it seems so futile to write about something that will probably never happen. For such a long time, since I was a young girl, I've fantasized about so many things and so many people. Did I ever think that I would fantasize about having a child of my own? And did I ever think that there would be this much regret?

I am prone to moods, that is true. Over the years, I have changed - sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse - and I have slowly, but ever so surely, evolved into a stronger - and yet, bitter? - woman. And yet I am not so strong. Not really. And thank God I am not too bitter. Jaded, perhaps, because of life's experiences and observations.

And in the middle of all of this, I weep every so often for that child. Whose child? My child.

Just because you have followed all the rules - or think you have, anyway - and followed the right path, it still did not mean that you would have all of your heart's desires. Or maybe having a child was not one of your heart's desires. Not at first. But it creeped up on you slowly, gently wrapping itself around your heart, reminding you every so often of what you are missing.

Life happens. Life goes on. Life slows down. And then it speeds up especially as one gets older, wondering where the time went. It didn't speed up on purpose, taunting me that time is running out. It just happened.

No discussion of having children. Both are getting older and the possibility of children seems dimmer and dimmer with each passing year. Or maybe it was always dim and I've only begun to actually see it.

A song caught me unawares one day. It was a few years ago and I was listening to the radio at work. The music was interesting, I thought, and it was sung by a popular female singer. I was a few feet away from the radio and thought I heard the word, "Hush". My interest was peaked. A lullaby? What kind of song was this, I wondered. Standing closer to the radio, trying to catch the second verse and hopefully to understand the lyrics, I heard these words:

"When it was dark now there's light
Where there was pain now's there's joy
Where there was weakness I found my strength
All in the eyes of a boy"

(Celine Dion, A New Day Has Come,
Written by Aldo Nova and Stephan Moccio)

Standing there, next to the radio, I was completely overwhelmed, so powerful was the initial awareness of what the song was about. And I almost cried for "All in the eyes of a boy" just about broke my heart wide open.

It has come to be one of my favourite songs and I always want to listen to it if I ever happen to catch it over the radio. And of course the sadness is experienced again although on a much smaller scale. And I may even get a little teary-eyed. And maybe even a few goosebumps. Why put myself through all that? Is it some form of release? Or am I just a glutton for punishment, wanting to remind myself of what I do not have or what I am missing out on or was it something that was never meant to be?

And I write about it because ... ? Do I think that there is still hope? Do I help to keep it alive this way, this yearning, this desire, this dream that still exists deep within? And it is just a dream, isn't it, a daydream like any other. It isn't real.

Some people make it seem so easy. There are even unmarried women who make it a point to conceive. And if they can't or do not wish to conceive, they adopt. They long for their child to love and cherish, to help grow and educate. It fills a need. But are we being selfish by creating a child just because of our needs? To love and to be loved. To love a child and to be loved by that child. It happens. And it happened to me but only in my imaginary world where the people and situations are slightly out-of-focus for they aren't real.

Even though I may disagree with the decisions and actions of those women, it nevertheless helps me realise that I am not alone. And yet I still feel alone. Words like "unfulfilled" and "maternal" and "whole" actually come to me now. I relate to them in a different way. Strange. And do I merely want a child? Or do I want a child with him? At least other women tried. We have not even tried. It is not easy to talk about. So it is not talked about. I still think of it in terms of real and unreal. And it doesn't feel real, does it. I am alive but I don't feel real.

I believe one should only bring a child into this world within a marriage. The family unit is so important. Didn't I take all the right steps? I went from Point A to Point B to ... ? But something went wrong in between. Or had it already gone wrong from the very beginning? Or did life just happen? Am I just responding emotionally like I usually do? And it is emotional. How could it not be emotional?

But once the emotions settle, and one has a clearer picture, what then? Is there still a daydream of that child, whether it's a beautiful baby boy or a darling baby girl?

As the song goes, "Hush now..."