I wonder if I will ever stop mourning my fertility. I imagine that there will always be a tiny part of me that will be sad and wonder what if…
What if I had done something differently?
What if I had tried to have a child earlier in life?
What if I hadn’t been selfish in loving my single, child-free life for so long?
What if I could’ve done something to prevent the surgery that closed the door on my fertility?
What if I could’ve, would’ve, should’ve…
What if.
As if, it would’ve made any difference. It probably wouldn’t have made any difference. But the thing is, I will always wonder, and I will always have feelings about it.
Someone close to me recently announced her pregnancy. Gosh, I’m so excited for her. Thrilled. Over the moon. She wondered whether this day would ever come.
I’m so glad it did.
But the news of her pregnancy…oh dear. I hate admitting the jealousy I feel. I hate feeling like I both want to hear more and hear nothing about it. I hate feeling alone in not being able to emote anything but joy around the subject as though it is the only emotion I feel.
Joy & Sadness Giphy.com
I both delight and loathe the gushing in our circle about the pregnancy. I can’t help but compare it to the emotion exhibited when I announced my adoption of Hope. It’s not the same. I don’t have much to compare it to, so I don’t know if it’s supposed to be the same. I feel like it should be the same, and yet, it isn’t and that brings its own set of feelings.
I also wonder if I really, really did not give myself enough time to mourn. I moved to adoption phase only 6 months after my invasive surgery and only 3 months after my specialist told me that a pregnancy wasn’t in the cards for me. I often wonder if I had it to do again, would I take more time?
I don’t know.
I know that so much of adoption can be about timing, what if I missed Hope? Or Hope missed me or we missed each other?
Right now, with all that I’m enduring with Hope, this unanticipated mourning of my fertility feels like the thing that has drawn blood. It’s the event that has pushed me right over the edge of sadness. It’s the thing that took my damaged, cracked heart and crushed it.
And, really it has little to do with the pregnancy announcement, it has everything to do with the fact that I will never make one. My body won’t do one of the things that it’s supposed to be able to do.
And I can’t fix that either. It just is. And like much going on these days, it sucks.
giphy.com
It keeps raining here in the DC area. It’s doing nothing to improve my mood these days. The gloomy, overcast days…well, I can’t tell if they are reflecting me or if I’m reflecting them.
Sigh.
I’m headed for a change of scenery this weekend with work travel—cherry country. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to shake off some of these feelings while there. They are pretty heavy these days. Some work travel is probably just the thing I need to turn this frown upside down.
AdoptiveBlackMom 
May 17th, 2016 at 8:50 pm
This really struck a chord with me, as so often your writing and thoughts do.
I have wondered too about if we rushed into adoption. We got our second opinion in October and we jumped straight into adoption in December – 2 months. (We had begun researching adoption earlier, but nothing too serious). Yet, as you say, it’s all about timing to bring us together with our children.
Also, I think the emotions around knowing that my body never did what it is supposed to and problem never will is something that will ebb and flow through time. Right now, with an infant in our house, I’m really okay with that reality, but in 6 months or in 10 years, maybe not.
I have absolutely no advice on how to “fix” these emotions and your current struggle. But I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone. I hope your work travel helps ease the burden and lifts your spirits.
May 23rd, 2016 at 9:28 am
Indeed these feelings come and go. I can acknowledge that I’ve been in a low curve for a couple of months, so I’m really super sensitive to my body’s betrayal. I know these feelings come and go; it shocks me how quickly they can come to the forefront and how my heart hurts so much several years later.
I’m on the upswing now, I think! 🙂 Thanks as always for stopping by!
May 17th, 2016 at 10:47 pm
I don’t have the same grief about my infertility, because my wife could have children if she chose to, and right now to we are not making that choice. Plus, being gay has always meant I wasn’t going to procreate the way I’m “supposed to.” But I do empathize with the lack of excitement people have for adoptions. Pregnant women get baby showers, and when they give birth, everyone offers to help by making dinner or doing laundry “so you can get a nap.” Adoptive parents might need even more of that post-child support, since our kids can come with so many issues, but people don’t think to offer. Dinner would have certainly helped back when I was cleaning poop off my walls every afternoon!
May 23rd, 2016 at 9:30 am
I loved my adoption shower and the friends and family who showed up; but it was tinged with a lot of sadness because of all the folks who didn’t even acknowledge that this was “a thing.” And people either don’t think to offer support post adoption or simply have no idea what form that support should take–so it often doesn’t happen. That sucks. Yeah, some Costco meals would’ve helped A LOT! 🙂
May 18th, 2016 at 9:02 am
I don’t have words for this except that I’m sorry that you have to go through all of these feelings AS WELL as everything that is going on with Hope. I’m hoping the clouds part a little for you my friend…reading and praying…
May 23rd, 2016 at 9:30 am
❤ Thanks friend.
May 19th, 2016 at 10:16 am
My husband and I were sharing the news of a friend who is pregnant and who succeeded so easily. He admitted his jealousy, and it took me by surprise that he could feel that way, too. I think I’m in a better place about it, if only because I have been able to go through pregnancy once. We don’t really talk about growing our family, but I think it’s because we don’t want to talk about it. We are in a good place at the moment (oh, and we get out new house tomorrow), but I’m sure we will have the “what if” questions for many years. I am particularly haunted by the five years of chosen infertility (i.e., back when I was on birth control).
I always write a bunch of things that don’t seem to relate to your posts or that focus more on me. I often delete them because I don’t want it to seem that I am stealing your spotlight, but this is a good post and one that I feel deserves a “us too in our own way” comment. I hear ya.
May 23rd, 2016 at 9:33 am
You’ll be back in town and we need to def hit the vineyard! 😉 Please, please post! 🙂 I look forward to reading–there’s no spotlight here and if there were, it would be a wide lens. 🙂
Yeah, I carry a lot of guilt about the years I put childbearing off. I thought I had time, or was waiting for the right scenario, or whatever. I look back now and while I have no regrets about how I lived those years–they were good ones–I wonder what if I lot. They still might’ve been great years. I guess I’ll just have to let that go now though, spilled milk and all that.
May 19th, 2016 at 4:21 pm
Although we are still considering adoption, meaning we are connecting with an agency and have done our homestudy already, there are certainly days when I mourn that my body won’t do what it’s suppose to do, the fact that I will never get pregnant shows up from time to time and it’s ironic that today was one of those days. Sometimes I feel like I’m being stalked by babies everywhere I go. I’m not sure that the feeling of that loss ever really goes away, I think we just move through life knowing that periodically it will rear it’s ugly head. I hope the travel does indeed turn your frown into a smile.
May 23rd, 2016 at 9:35 am
One trip down and two to go and I’m definitely feeling better. You are right, it comes and goes. I guess I need to accept that and just let those emotions really wash over me. The mourning is really real though. The disappointment is real too. But, life goes on. Sigh.