Resident

 

It's already been six weeks.

My dad sent me a sweet, handwritten letter after our IVF didn't pan out the way we hoped. In it he told me that there will be dates I'll remember the rest of my life because they are significant from either joy or sadness. He knows this because he has his dates, too. December 6: the day he proposed to my mom. December 14: the day they lost their twins.

I have two December dates of my own. December 23: the day I wrecked our truck two years in a row (hence the reason I avoid driving on said date). December 3: the day I was sucker punched. I just didn't see it coming.

As I was marking the birthdays of friends and family on our new 2013 calendar I couldn't help but realize that I would be going into labor this week if I hadn't miscarried in May. I would also be 10 weeks along if IVF worked. But here I sit, zero weeks along with any baby...and yet I've grown six weeks' worth of calm and peace that echo between my empty insides daily. Ultrasound that.

I was anxious to leave Egypt, the land of my enslavement. I might have jumped the gun on that one. Restoratively, I saw a very pretty thing last month entitled "Rest on the Flight into Egypt" by Luc Olivier Merson. (Seriously, click on the link. It's beautiful. And only $2000 framed. Maybe I'll opt for a small print.)  Painted in 1879, it depicts Mary and her royal infant sleeping on a sphinx with a comatose Joseph and unsaddled donkey mere feet away. The caption said This painting symbolizes the feeling of safety Egypt offered to the holy family. When I realized what it meant my heart whispered to my brain, "There, there. Do you see now? Egypt isn't all bad. Some people wanted to get there as badly as you want to get out. There is still safety in Egypt, so rest up for now." Six weeks I have rested. I plan on resting in Egypt for as many weeks as required, except I am clearly not napping between the chiseled paws of a giant lion bearing a man's head. I am resting in the soft and aware arms of my Savior who continues to carry me.

I'm still a resident in the land of pyramids and sphinxes. No change of address just yet. Should I be surprised that this month-to-month Egyptian rental I've recently unpacked in has everything that I need?