Some thoughts on Infertility.

I haven't written on infertility in a while because honestly I thought the days of thinking about it and how it affects me were over. I don't dwell on it and I am not writing this post to bring out any kind of sympathetic feelings people might have for us or to make it seem like it takes up all of my thoughts. It doesn't. But there have been some kind of sharp (I can't think of a better adjective to use) thoughts that I have had that bring me moments of grief.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful because I wake up everyday so grateful that I have the most amazing little boy to wake up to. He is literally the joy in my life and I don't mean to sound unfulfilled. He has brought me joy in ways that I didn't know were possible. But infertility is always going to be there too. I know our putting in our adoption papers and going through the "process" again has brought more of this to light in my mind because with each piece of paper that we have to submit and with each visit from the social worker, or doctors visit, TB test, recommendation letter (4 different ones), an employer's recommendation, parent trainings, and books we are required to read - I am reminded that I cannot have it as "easy" as others who think of getting pregnant and 9 months later they are posting the most adorable hospital pictures that I will never have. Each time I run those costs over in my mind of what it takes to have a home study, a lawyer, a "facilitator" aka marketing team, and then the unknown costs of birth mother expenses it reminds me that I cannot have a family on my own terms in my own way. It's always on someone else's terms and in someone else's way. Thank goodness I honestly and truly believe that it's all in God's hands - because if I didn't have that - I don't know what I would do.

I think there are two big things that I grieve the most over. One of those "sharp" thoughts that I have that come quick and fast but leave painful and slow are about the bond that occurs between a husband and his wife after they bring a baby into the world. It might sound silly and I think husbands might have some witty remark like "there is nothing bonding about watching my wife deliver a nine pound baby out of her down there" - but there is. I have seen the look. The look of amazement and pride and love and overwhelming joy all wrapped into one. The look that says "We made this" - "this is a piece of you and me" - Plus all the amazing pictures where the moms and dads are just glowing in the hospital because they literally just brought a human into the world. They have partnered with God to create another human. It's amazing. It's something I will never have the opportunity to do in this life. I still have fleeting feelings of jealousy that I QUICKLY do my best to replace with love and joy - because we truly love when other people have babies and grow their families - we just wish we could too. The good thing is, is that Turner is so darn cute that I don't think Brandon and I could have made one any cuter - so we got lucky there :)

The other thought just occurred yesterday (and previous times but yesterday stood out in my mind when writing this post) at the beach. I was packing up our things to go home and my friend was watching Turner while I walked back to the truck with our beach stuff. As I was walking back I noticed these two little sisters, who you could tell instantly were sisters and probably close in age, and they were playing together in the sand right next to the walking path. As soon as I looked at them the thought popped into my head  - your kids will never look like each other. Now don't get me wrong, I know that lots of people have lots of kids that don't look alike. I know that Brandon and I could have our own kids and they could look so different - BUT with adoption our kids may not even have the same skin color - and I am okay with that. I truly am. It's just another reminder that I am not in control of our family and how it comes to be.

There are lots of little thoughts like this and it's okay to have them. I am okay saying that I still grieve the fact that we are infertile. It's something you truly cannot understand until you go through it. I know it won't ever go away - but I also know that each little smile and hug and kiss that I get from my little boy makes it not even feel like a trial or burden anymore.