Imperfect

I had a meltdown today, and try not to laugh when I tell you the reason for this complete loss of composure. Remember how we had half a dresser? Well, I decided we should at least finish the dresser this weekend. I immediately looked at the instructions and the hardware and became frustrated with it (surprise, surprise) and Jason continued on. In the hand-over of the task, I did not show him the screws that went with the hinges. So, he used the longer screws. And, they went through the side of the dresser and broke the wood. That was it. I was having an okay day, and then I wasn't. My stomach was sick, and I was actually in tears...because there were two (very small) imperfections on the side of my baby's dresser.

Nope. I'm not kidding.

So, being the reflective person I am, as I am sick to my stomach and crying, I am thinking "What is this really about, Faith? It can't seriously be about the dresser." And the answer was pretty clear.

We tried to conceive a baby, and the process was anything but perfect. Many people enjoy a night of passion, and boom, a life is created. Instead, we got pills, shots, surgeries, sperm analyses, invasive procedures, and years of disappointment, rage and incredible sadness. Not so perfect.

We got pregnant. That process went south within 12 weeks, both times. While most women go in for their ultrasounds, high on life, ready to see that beautiful life they created, I went into ultrasounds, heart pounding, palms sweating, getting myself ready for my world to be rocked. And it was. Twice. Again, it doesn't get any less perfect than that.

So, is it too much to freakin' ask that my baby furniture does not have holes in it where they shouldn't be?! My God. I mean, really?

I guess what is really the most imperfect part of it all is that our baby is not warmly tucked in my arms....right now. All I have is the furniture. So doesn't it then make sense that I need that furniture to be perfect?

In case you are wondering....

Although not perfect, it is beautiful. Hmmmm.....