Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Revisiting Old News

Last week as I drove to work it hit me like a punch to the gut- I can't have a baby. I will never get pregnant. I will never create a child with my husband. I will never know what that is like.

How after six years of dealing with why this does my brain continually seem to blank out? How does this already-known fact pop into my head as if for the first time? Why do I have to keep reliving this very painful news over and over and over again?

Infertility for most people leaves an open wound because one is constantly having to revisit their pain. My husband and I have never been told that we cannot conceive. I have not lost my tubes, he has viable sperm- the bottom line is that it could happen. It's just that the odds are stacked heavily against us. We are not able to move on mentally and emotionally because the possibility is still there, even if it is small.

Because of our age we are surrounded by people who are having children. Even though my own grief has subsided substantially since becoming a mother, I still have extremely difficult moments. Every time I hear of a pregnancy my insides ache. My heart hurts. It may only last a few moments, but the pain always comes.

I realize that until my peer group is out of child-bearing years and onto raising adolescents and teen-agers I will have to continually fight my own grief. I feel separated from my peer group because I cannot have a family in the traditional way. I cannot relate to sonograms, finding out the sex of the baby, seeing the baby grow, birth stories, and holding your newborn baby. These conversations elude me, and I will never be able to fully particpate nor understand what all those things feel like.

It hurts.

"Having" children or reproducing is such a primal thing. It's in our flesh and bones. Carrying on our genes, creating children with a spouse is part of human existence. When you cannot fulfill that very expected and natural desire, there is a huge sense of loss. It is a loss that has taken a piece of me with it. It is a loss that has impacted my entire life- some ways are good and some are very challenging.

When that feeling of complete and utter solace and heartache comes over me, I focus on what I do have. Being a mother to Min is such an amazing experience. And those who are not adoptive parents could never understand what life is like for my husband and I. We love and adore him like any parent loves their child, but the way we became a family is different and unique.
And no matter how much my heart hurts over never experiencing pregnancy, I will never have regret because this difficult path has led me to a motherhood I never would have imagined.

But grief and loss are a part of life. Each day is a challenge for many different reasons. We all have difficult things to deal with in our lives. Focusing on the beautiful moments, the precious time with my growing boy, and appreciating that although life is hard, it is a gift help me to get by.

Infertility is one part of my life. It has closed some doors for me but created an infinite number of rare and wonderful opportunities. Knowing this does help me get through the difficult days. Although I feel sad at times, I am full of great joy because I have the opportunity to be the mother to my son.

11 comments:

Rachell said...

I am a mother because of adoption. And like you, I love my son more than the air I breathe but contrary to popular belief, adoption doesn’t cure IF. My barren womb still haunts me nearly every month. It's been almosst 20 years for me. I started TTC when I was 19. I'll be 39 iin May. My niece just had a baby and they live with us now. My son is 4 and loves his baby cousin so much! He has recently started asking me to have him a baby sister. Talk about breaking your heart in half.

Alex said...

I've often wondered - when do you "get over" infertility? Right now, I'm in the thick of it, but I wonder if you ever move on, no matter how this quest for a baby resolves itself. Thanks for sharing...

Von said...

Your painful feelings so prove that adoption does not cure infertility. Wish every hopeful adopter could know that.
There is much to say about this but here's not the place.Brave you for being honest.
My problem was solved by acupuncture as it sometimes can be in cases where there are no proven reasons.So important not to give yourself false hopes but if you're still wanting to explore every avenue it's worth a look.

Grace said...

so well said and so very true...we just brought home our son from korea and while i am beyond thrilled to be a mother, it does not take away the sting and the hurt and pain caused by IF. you're right, i think once all my friends are out of their childbearing years, it will be better, but i remember at our pre-adoption class, an adoptive parent was saying that when her adopted daughter got pregnant, it brought up the pain all over again...so i think there will always, always be some residual pain...

Glass Case of Emotion said...

I just posted about this similar thing yesterday. How even when we have children (I don't yet), you can cycle through the grief. Thank you for sharing.

Heather said...

I could have written this post six months ago. It is all so true. Even though it's taken me to the unexpected place I am today, I am not sure I'll ever be "over" infertility. It's changed me in too many ways.

rebecca said...

I think the scars of infertility are with us forever, but as you said we also have a strength, resilience, and perspective that we most likely would not have known if we hadn't survived the struggles IF has brought. The grief is definitely still there at times as you said, but the important thing is that we move past it and allow the positive things to be a part of our life as well. Beautiful post!

Another Dreamer said...

I'm often taken aback too, when it suddenly hits me all over again, a thought creeping in.

Thanks for sharing.

Another Dreamer said...

I'm often taken aback too, when it suddenly hits me all over again, a thought creeping in.

Thanks for sharing.

Aisha said...

Wow, what a beautiful and honest post- thank you for sharing. I am sorry for your pain. . . I had a son biologically after years of trying and miscarriages- but the news of women who conceive still stings- it makes no sense- I STILL find baby showers hard to sit through. . . I think once the pain is burned in your heart its there forever no matter how subtle it grows.

Pix said...

So sorry you are hurting. There will always be grief for things we regret, and infertility is definitely something to regret. It does hurt to hear peers are preg, but I struggle in particular with women who had fertility probs and then become preg. I know I should be thrilled for them, and I want to, but I can't help being a bit devastated that it wasn't me.

Sometimes it makes me feel like less of a woman (in the classical definition of what a woman was created for) but I'm learning to write my own definition of what a woman/mother is/can be.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails