Bryce and I were driving to a local walking trail Sunday when I had a flash of memory.
Three years ago, after I lost our only uterine pregnancy that seemed so promising, I remember staring numbly at the carpet near my feet and saying,
"What if this is it? What if this is the only taste of pregnancy I get? What if this brief couple of weeks that ended in sorrow is all we get?"
On this beautiful fall day, as we prepare for the baby that is closer and closer to coming our way, I realized that those words were true. That WAS it. That WAS my last experience with my own pregnancy. I WON'T have that experience again.
Bryce sat in the car quietly after I shared my memory flash and said,
"I remember you saying that."
The funny thing was, I said it without crying. Without feeling a vast emptiness in my chest or a lump in my throat. I said it because it's true, but it just means that pregnancy isn't how our baby will come to us. Not my pregnancy, anyway.
I wanted it so badly, but it wasn't ultimately my pathway. Sometimes I think about how much the desire to be pregnant took over navigating our journey, and if I hadn't wanted that experience so badly, if I could have seen the baby for the bump instead of the forest for the trees, we could have been parents sooner.
Coulda shoulda woulda...doesn't really help anything constructive. I could feel tremendous amounts of guilt for my pregnancy fervor that took us (in hindsight) off course, but guilt is a wasted emotion. It's just interesting to think on for a minute.
Because right now, I feel closer to parenthood than ever. It may take longer than we think, or shorter than we think, but we feel confident that we can weather any storms that may come our way on this route to our Mystery Baby. I do feel sad every once in a while that I won't get to bake that baby, but I get all the rest of the milestones and the moments and the lifetime of parenting -- without stretchmarks, the dangers of pregnancy and childbirth, or cankles. It's a pretty good trade, I think, but a trade nonetheless. I lost something worthy of mourning, but it is a brief moment in the grand scheme of things. What I gained, what WE gained, is beautiful and full of hope...and will last a heck of a lot longer than 40 short weeks.
Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy!
The more I read adoption and really any blogs (and as a parent of a baby conceived in a rather unconventional way) the more I realize how little it matters how you become parents, but that your baby comes to you in the way it was meant to. I wanted to be pregnant, but more than that, the emotional rollercoaster of adoption seemed so much harder--I wasn't sure we'd qualify (too much school debt, B not employed long enough, no agency "liking us") followed by the wait of getting chosen by a birth family. There's no screening involved in choosing a donor--just a credit card with a high enough limit and we got lucky with A. Don't beat yourself up for how you got to this place, but embrace that you're here (I know you do). Each step away from what's conventional is difficult emotionally. Getting from sex with your husband to adoption covers a lot of ground, ground that isn't easy to tread--there's a lot of heartache and a lot of mourning that comes along with it. You got to where you are in the time it took *you* to get there, any early might not have felt right and you may not have been able to wholeheartedly embraced the love and the hope and the optimism surrounding adoption. I love reading about it and I wonder if I could have done the same in your shoes. I can't wait for FutureBaby to be in your arms!
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful comment, thank you! I love every piece of this. Thank you for "getting" this so much.
DeleteWow. With this post you took me back to my own losses. It's weird how I/you can access this hurt, but also see it as party of the journey, not just a dead end.
ReplyDeleteLovely post, Jess.
Thank you so much... I'm glad the hurts are less intense in the rear view mirror.
DeleteI second Lori's words, but perhaps not in the way she meant it. (I know she didn't mean I'm a dead end ...) It is part of our journey - if not to pregnancy then to parenthood, if not to parenthood, then to the rest of our lives.
ReplyDeleteIt's so lovely to read your blog and see you healing.
Yes, yes to healing! I didn't feel like living childfree was the dead end, but living devoid of hope as the dead end. That's the way I took it, at least. The before was full of loss and hurting and missing out on something that turned out not to be mine, whereas now I can move on. I feel very fortunate to have the option of adoption available to me, but I know that there are many ways to fork this path and live in a better place than experienced while in the thick of things. Thank you for your thoughts!
DeleteI totally get it, you said it so well. I was so in love with the big belly fantasy: I saw it as this perfect example of womanhood that I lost sight of the fact that I got what I needed, not what I wanted. And if I had not adopted a child, my life would have gone on to be just was wonderful (less exhausting) and simply different. Not better or worse, just different.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great way to put it, the Big Belly Fantasy, AND the "what I needed, not what I wanted." It's easier to put things into perspective now, but I still think if I could go back in time and tell myself three years ago, "quit striving for this, you'll be happier if you go another route," I wouldn't believe it. I would have to go through all this to get to the place of peace and realizing that the belly isn't all that. Thank you for your thoughts!
DeleteI know that it has taken a while to get to this place, but I love this post. It doesn't matter who gives birth to FutureBaby- only that you will have him/her forever. I'm so excited for you guys!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your excitement! It definitely did take a while to get here, and I am just so grateful to be HERE. Back there was not a pleasant place to live. :)
DeleteI love this part, even though it is bittersweet: "Sometimes I think about how much the desire to be pregnant took over navigating our journey, and if I hadn't wanted that experience so badly, if I could have seen the baby for the bump instead of the forest for the trees, we could have been parents sooner."
ReplyDeleteI think you needed to go through that to get to where you are now. We can't skip those emotions, that mental work, on the way to where we're going, you know?
Thank you for getting it so well! Absolutely. Hindsight is so amazing, but you're right--I needed to do a lot of work to get to this place. And I think I am so at peace because I thought through everything in my own (obsessive, neurotic) way. You pulled out my favorite sentence in this whole post! :)
Delete"Coulda shoulda woulda...doesn't really help anything constructive." - your statement rings true on so many levels. Glad to hear you are full of hope again.
ReplyDeleteThank you! Hindsight really is one of those things that can mess with you, make you think you could have changed things that in reality you weren't ready for. I am SO full of hope, but also a healthy dose of realism, so I feel pretty prepared for this new experience. :) Thanks for your thoughts!
DeleteI am happy for your hope and peace. That means a lot and puts you on solid footing for when FutureBaby arrives. It also seems to open you up to enjoy life as it is now and not just ticking off the months. While you may have wanted to spare yourself of that heartache, the time you have spent on reflection has given you valuable insight to not just survive, but to thrive. Grieve what is important. It may bubble up from time to time, but hopefully with less hurt and with more space between. Sounds like you are in a great place. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much -- your words are so wise! I think the heartache was necessary. I'm not sure I'd remove it if I had the choice, but the reflection helps too to help me keep perspective in this new journey. And probably parenting in general... eyes on the true prize. And acknowledgement that losing a piece of it is worthy of mourning. I do feel pretty peaceful, and the grief comes and goes, but it is definitely more beneath-the-surface, not fresh. Thank you for your thoughts!
Delete