I have been writing this post in my head for a few months now but I haven’t actually put it into actual typed words for two reasons: 1. I have trouble finding time and 2. I feel guilty writing it.
I knew the day was coming when someone in my group of moms or one of my friends who have children the same age as Peyton would say they were pregnant again. Talk during our playgroups were starting to head in that direction as other moms would share that they were either trying for another or thinking about trying for another. I know a couple of moms also struggled like I did so I knew I wasn’t completely alone. I was ok with it all until someone actually became pregnant and then another and another. I started to feel those familiar pangs of longing, grief and jealousy.
I made peace with myself, God and whoever else a long time ago when we started our journey that if I was lucky enough to have a child it was only going to be one unless I got pregnant with twins or triplets. And I thought I grieved that idea of having more than one child but I guess I was wrong or at least that grief isn’t just a one shot deal with it and move on…it lingers apparently.
Last week I decided to watch Bridget Jones Baby…with wine and greasy chinese food. I loved the other movies and was looking for a lighthearted funny movie to watch by myself since my husband was traveling for work and would never want to watch it in a million years. Boy did I get more than I bargained for that night! I was fine until she took the pregnancy test and that’s when it truly hit me. I will never experience that again. As the movie went on to her going for her first ultra sound and heard the heartbeat…I bawled my eyes out. I will never experience that again. When she went into labor and held her newborn for the first time. I will never experience that again. The night ended with me crying into my wine and chinese food and grieving the future children I will never have and the experience of having those children. And that’s exactly what it was…grief. I didn’t feel jealous or angry just sad.
I know I am one of the lucky “infertility survivors” and Peyton is more than I could ever ask or hope for in a daughter. And I also have two amazing stepdaughters who I have come to care for and love as though they were my own. So that is where my guilt comes in…how can I even begin to complain when others are still struggling so much to become a mom?? Believe me I thank God everyday for my miracle and pray EVERY DAY for those that are still waiting for their miracle. But there is still that part of me that feels robbed of the decision to have more children. For Peyton to be a big sister and for me to be pregnant again. My husband will say every now and then that we can try again and I do think about it for a bit BUT I don’t think I can do it again. The physical part yes…although I would just let nature take it’s course rather than go the fertility intervention route even though natures course didn’t always pan out. I could throw caution to the wind and keep my fingers crossed. What I can’t do is the emotional roller coaster…the highs and lows every month, the agony of having another miscarriage, the constant worry each week if I do get lucky and the pregnancy sticks. I also can’t do all the doctors appointments, tests, etc. that would take time away from my daughter as well as my emotional absence. I am also almost 43! I was a young 40 when I got pregnant with Peyton so I am pretty sure my ovaries are in an even more desolate state then they were 3 years ago.
So for now instead of feeling angry or jealous I am trying to let myself grieve. Grieve the loss of being pregnant again. Grieve the loss of being a mom again. Grieve the loss of Peyton being a big sister and my stepdaughters having another younger sibling. Because it is a loss…every part of it.