My best friend believes this. He told it to me, and now I believe it too.
What I can’t figure out is why I chose my parents. My father was never around. I’ve never seen his face. I’ve spoken to him on the phone a few times. He claims he didn’t know my mother was pregnant until after I was born.
Even if that was true, once you learned about me, you still couldn’t be bothered to come around so you finding out about me “late” is irrelevant.
As far as my mother is concerned, she couldn’t raise me because she’s mentally challenged. With no mother or father to take care of me, my grandmother and grandfather stepped up to raise me.
That’s when it hit me. I didn’t choose my biological parents. I chose my grandparents. I think I needed to be taught how to be strong. How to endure. How to withstand. How to be self-sufficient. They taught me that. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
I’m also pondering if I’ll ever become a parent. I want a daughter more than anything in the world. Now that I’m AMA, advanced maternal age, I’m not sure I’m going to become a mother the way I want to, if at all. But I hear a little girl’s voice inside me saying, “Just hold on. I’m coming. Don’t give up hope yet.”
I think it’s my daughter. So for her, I’m keeping the faith and holding on.
I know it sounds old-fashioned, but I don’t want to have my daughter until after I’m married. I have doubts that’ll ever happen also, but I had a vision of someone proposing to me. And I believe visions come true.
So I guess I’m keeping the faith about marriage too. No matter what happens, I’m excited to see how my story will end.