I saw you in the grocery store. You were trying to peek discretely, but I saw you anyways. I saw you because I know that look. That heartbroken look. That jealous look. That almost-given-up look. I know that look because I gave that look. To so many moms and babies over the years. Families that had all that I wanted. Because I was so sure that I would not ever have it.
I know that look because I still give it sometimes. To the family that has what I want. To the big brother looking after his little siblings. To the moms who have a handful of kids they're trying to wrangle.
I see you. I wish I could go to you. Tell you it's okay to feel however you feel. But I know you don't want ME to know that you're looking. Peeking. Pretending to do something on your phone, check your cart, anything to make it look like you're ok and not feeling the hole in your heart get bigger and bigger.
I wish I could tell you that your time will come. I wish I knew. I wish I knew for certain when it would happen for you. Because then I could give you comfort. And I wish that we could find something else to fill that void in your spirit. I know what it is to long for something, someone and to be afraid you will never get to meet that someone. I know that feeling. And I wish I could take it from you.
But you'll go through the check-out line, take your groceries home, and go on with your day. But I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. I see your pain and your longing. And I wish, oh how I wish that I could come up to you, hear your story, and understand your journey. But for now, I'll just tell you that you are loved, you are worthy, and you are enough.
