Tuesday 2 March 2010

My Life as an Oxymoron

I've been debating about writing this post for a while now. Jeff and I live in a weird place. We are the fertile infertile. I don't spend too much time dwelling on this aspect of our lives, but every once in a while when certain things don't happen on schedule, I am hit with the reality of our situation, and I don't like it.

So, this month our lives were hectic. We have been adjusting to our new schedule, preparing to travel for Katie's wedding, processing the news out of Uganda, and praying about how we should move forward with our future plans. So, all of this adds up to a lot of stress, and that threw me off. I was late. It was almost unbearable.

I do not feel ready to cope with the uncertainty that would attend a pregnancy. Twelve weeks of waiting to find out whether the baby would live is too long. Even more, I don't feel prepared to deal with bad news again. I'm just not ready. I don't know if I ever will be, but I know that I'm not now.

It's strange, because going into Tommy's adoption I thought we would adopt and then try the pregnancy route again to give us time to save up for another adoption (when Jeff and I talked about adopting a child who would look different from us we decided we would be adopting another at some point). I thought that having a child in my arms would make it easier to face the thought of losing another baby and that I would really want to try again. But it hasn't worked out that way. Instead, our experience adopting has made me question why I would even try and get pregnant again at this point. There are so many kids who need homes, and so few people willing to provide them. Why should we, who are more than willing, who are longing to adopt again, choose a different course?

Someday I may feel differently. We want a large family. I know we can't afford to adopt too many more kids if we ever hope to own a home or send our children to college. Perhaps someday I will be interested in pregnancy and that desire will be great enough for us to risk it. Or maybe we won't have a choice. I've heard that happens too. Leah was a first-try baby. There are a number of "planned by God" kids in my family (such a nicer phrase than "mistake"). I understand that I don't have total control in this area of my life. I learned that lesson the hard way.

I think that I would rather bear this burden than be faced with total infertility. Our genetic counselor informs us that if we are willing to try enough times we will eventually have a live birth. Such reassurance. I am grateful that we have options. I just don't always feel grateful. So maybe I'm a double oxymoron. Fertile infertile. Grateful ingrate. Oh well. If the shoes fit...

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