tonight, driving in the car, i realized that i may, possibly have found the balance point between believing , 100%, that this baby will one day be ours and believing, also 100%, that he won’t and that a different baby is out there waiting for us instead. how is that possible? to believe both? 100%? i’m really not sure. i’m not so good with the math these days, but it’s as though i’m standing in a hallway and if i look over in one direction i can see one room where we are at home with this baby boy, starting our new family, losing lots of sleep, probably bursting into tears a lot, and being happier than i can even imagine and if i look over in the opposite direction i can see us in a different room, learning that C has chosen to parent this child and I can see us jumping back into the pool to wait for another expectant mother to decide that maybe she could entrust her child to us (because nothing else in our story has worked on the first try, so why should this be any different?). But I’m still in the hallway, not really allowing myself to go into either of those rooms. Okay, maybe i’ve poked my head into the first room a few times and more often than the second room (can you blame me?) but when I think about this out of the corner of my eye, I can’t quite imagine it really happening. I can’t quite imagine that this REALLY might work out. But the hallway is safe and familiar. From here, I’ve watched so many other families being born. I’m always on the outside, looking in and wondering what it’s really like to have this little squishy being in your lives ALL THE TIME and needing so much care and attention and winning so much of your love…
I realized today that I’ve been sort of holding myself back around “C.” I never say anything like, “When you give us the baby” or “After we get the baby” because that feels presumptous. She hasn’t yet made (and legally can not yet make) her final decision and I don’t want to assume that she will choose to place him with us. But I also haven’t ever said, “I’m getting so excited!” (instead, I’ll say, “this is getting so exciting!” subtle difference, I know) and I try not to talk too much about plans for after the baby is born (other than some basic logistical details) because i somehow feel that words like that might pressure her and I don’t ever want to be seen as coercive. J pointed out tonight that at this point, we are all (C, J and I) assuming that she will place. She has never given us any indication that she’s ever thought of changing her mind, so how could me saying that I’m getting excited about the baby be seen as coercive? Is it even possible to coerce someone to do something that they’re already planning to do?
This article keeps running around in the back of my mind and I wonder if I’m cheating myself out of happiness. Curse you, infertility clouds that still cast shadows over my life!
3 comments ↓
I never know if what I can say will a.) make any sense to you, or b.) have any influence on your thoughts and feelings. Pressing on with the very best intentions let me say these two things:
1.) My first reaction to your first paragraph was, “You are SUCH an expectant mother.” Your thoughts transcend anything to do with how you’ll get your baby. I think every mom comes to some similar, ambivalent conclusion at some point. Perhaps it even transcends parenthood. I imagine a sensible bride-to-be convincing herself that her marriage will be wonderful, while at the same time realizing that if her oafish fiance suddenly turns more oafish just before the wedding, it will be o.k. to cancel the wedding, ditch the caveman, and jump back into the dating pool. A new couple hunting for their first home has high hopes for that little fixer-upper on the high end of their budget, but knows that if this deal falls through, a better one will pop up on their search list tomorrow.
2.) Reality is an elusive critter. To this day (almost five and half years after our first introduction to Miss L), I cannot firmly believe that “my child” is really mine. It’s because life with these girls is so amazing and wonderful and life-consuming, that I simply can’t wrap my head around it completely enough to say, “This is real.”
In conclusion, I feel that, as two-minded as it may be, it’s o.k. to let these dualities exist in one heart. Sooner or later (and we’re all rootin’ for sooner), one reality will prevail and the other will be a faded “what if” memory.
* Who knew I could be so blasted organized at midnight? Dang, I’m impressive. 😉
Infertility is a terrible thief of joy. It robs you of confidence and certainty. Instead you end up in limbo, waiting for the seemingly inevitable bleeding, waiting for the other shoe to drop, just WAITING.
I’m not sure why I thought of this story, but my mother told me that when my grandmother was a girl, she had a brooch that she was terribly fond of. Sadly, it was lost, convincing my grandmother that “pride always goes before a fall.” For the rest of her life, she would never admit to pride in anything whether it was a possession or her children’s accomplishments.
Apparently, in the last few days of her life, she was in and out of lucidity, but at one point, she sat bolt upright, shook her fist at the ceiling and shouted, “I’M PROUD OF MY CHILDREN!”
I think it reminds me of your hallway. Grammy chose door number 1 at the very last moment, after spending a lifetime in fear of what might happen if she let her guard down. I think Marnie’s right; we are inherently full of dualities. All rooms are going to lead to other hallways- don’t feel bad about exploring the whole house!
Oh Honey, Honey, let me hold your hope for you. I can’t even imagine that she would change her mind. I’m convinced you will get to experience sleepless nights and crying for no good reason before you know it.
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