Hi friends! Can we talk?
I have been thinking a lot about how our little family will be changing soon. And I have been thinking a lot about how the birth of our baby will not only change our lives, but the lives of those around us. So many of you have been such a support to me, and I want you to know that I am still mindful of our friends who are still waiting. Something that is very important to me is that I don’t forget.
I don’t want to forget the things I have felt or the things I have learned. I know it hurts. Infertility sucks. I’ve been there! Heck, I AM there! I am SO grateful for the little miracle that is coming into our lives. I am in no means diminishing how grateful I am for our baby when I say that infertility is still hard.
That’s not to say that we aren’t over the moon excited. We are. That’s not to say that my infertility pain will still be as great as someone who still waits with empty arms. It won’t. In spite of infertility, I still get to be a mom. Adoption doesn’t cure infertility, but knowing that I can be a mother takes away a lot of the sting.
I guess my point is that even though we are expecting our little miracle in a few weeks, I haven’t magically forgotten all of the pain from the past several years. Nor would I want to. I don’t say that in a “wallowing in self pity” kind of way, rather a “I know it’s hard and I’m still there for you” kind of way. One of the things I struggle to understand is how people who at one time struggled with childlessness/infertility can seem to lose the sensitivity towards others that they used to desire for themselves. I really don’t want to be that kind of person.
So I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to strike a balance between voicing our excitement and allowing others to share in our joy, while remaining sensitive that our good news can also be hard news for some. And then I worry that by telling all of you this, you might think that I am being too egocentric by thinking what I write here on my little blog even matters that much one way or another. I overthink things. It’s a gift. But I did want to tell you how I’m feeling because you DO matter to me and I DON’T want to be a stinker. I want you to know I’m trying.
I found some articles that really helped me to process all of this. The first is from An Infertile Adoptive Mom. This was one of my favorite parts:
“The main thing I wanted to get across to the audience was that they did not have to "get over" their infertility in order to choose adoption. I felt like this was the best gift I could give them. It was permission for them to still be grieving their biological child while rejoicing their child who would be theirs through adoption. I told them it was OK if they still didn't want to attend baby showers, baptisms, certain family functions, or to be around pregnant women. That didn't mean that they shouldn't adopt. It means that they are infertile and always will be. That is what they have to accept.”
Jill (from the Happiest Sad) also wrote an AMAZING blog post (it was actually a copy of her presentation from FSA) on grief. You really should read what she had to say. It was so insightful to learn more about grieving from a birthmother’s perspective. And it reminded me again that even though our experiences are different, our emotions are universal. One thing that Jill said that really stood out to me was this:
“I should also mention that you may experience several of these feelings at once. It is possible to feel more than one emotion at a time. It doesn't mean you're crazy. It means you're human. You are absolutely allowed to feel happy for someone and jealous of them at the same time. You can feel sad and happy at the same time (and I'm the "happiest sad" chick, so trust me on this one). You can feel grateful and impatient. You can feel depressed at the same time you feel a lot of love.”
Perhaps my take home message is that I know that we are all down here on earth together to help one another. Even if my wait is winding down, I hope that I can use the things I have learned to help lift someone else. I want to always remember.