This week was hell on me, and all because I'm a failure at the most basic of functions: creating life.
You see, for years upon years upon years, we tried for a baby. We went through every test and we jumped through every hoop and yet there was simply no explanation as to why I couldn't have a baby. I see women post things on Facebook about trying for six months and being disappointed. Come see me when you've been trying for so long that your friends have kids who are grown and working on their own families.
I will never, ever, ever know what it is like to create a life. I will never know the feeling of wondering if it's butterflies or little kicks. I will never know what it's like to hear the heartbeat of a life I've created. I will never know what it is like to look upon a little life and know that it was created out of the love my husband and I have for each other.
Yes, we have Darcy and are beyond blessed, but I am reminded every single day that my family is not complete. Don't believe me? Let's look at this week as the perfect example.
Day 1: friend "A" posts pics of a newborn placed in her home and I had no idea that this was even a possibility
Day 2: friend "B" posts pics of her newborn, and while it was expected, it still cuts through me
Day 3: Darcy and a friend find the drawer with all of Darcy's baby memorabilia and go through all of it, oohing and ahhing over everything, bringing me things to show me how cute or how precious.
Day 4: at a home school function, a mom asks me which children are mine; when I point out Darcy, she responds (rather aghast), "You just have the one?"
Every single day, without fail, I am reminded of my failure to complete our family. I can't even go on Pinterest without seeing nursery ideas or baby shower ideas or newborn photography ideas. It certainly doesn't help that my (former) best friend is currently pregnant and is sharing that experience with the witch who caused our falling out because she, too, is pregnant.
What's that? We can adopt again? We can foster? WOW! We'd never considered that!!! I apologize for my sarcasm (well, not really) but did you really think that these aren't things we've examined in minute detail? Do you really think us that stupid? Those are not options for us. Unless a miracle happens and someone literally walks up to us and gives us a baby (and no one loves us enough to do that), I will always feel as if my family isn't complete and that I'm a failure as a woman. Druggies and teenagers and single women everywhere can have as many kids as they want; I can't even have a second successful adoption!
I found the following information online, and it is worth repeating:
"Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.
The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal."
I've received some really, really bad advice this week, so let me tell you what NOT to say. Do not tell me that this is God's plan for my life. Do not presume to know what God is thinking. Also, do not tell me that I should just pray about it some more because it will all work out. More than a decade of prayer has been out into this already; at this point, my faith is fairly shattered and it would literally take a miracle for restoration. I don't need to hear that we should look into adoption or fostering or that there's still time. Time is not on our side.
Just be there. Don't give platitudes or unsolicited advice. Just recognize the pain and the grief. With the exception of two people, no one that I know has ever gone through the exact same situation. There is no way you could possibly know what to say; I'd much rather you stay silent than insult me with clichés about God's timing or advice on foster care. Short of giving us a child, there's not a single thing you can say or do. To make it easier, I'll refrain from posting any comments about my bitterness over how I have been devinely failed.
