*This blog is just some personal musings and conclusions I've been wrestling with the past few months. If you continue to read, please do so knowing this is a gut-level honest step in my journey that I want to remember.
I used to dream of the day that I found out I was pregnant and how I would tell Chris and the rest of our family. Most months I would plan a specific reveal depending on holidays or what was going on that month. I had some pretty good ideas, but they never got used. When I would start my period I would spiral into the mopies and live there for several days. I snapped easily and was highly oversensitive because of my disappointment that yet another month had passed with no baby. As the months turned into years I began to learn how to cope. I stopped hoping a little every month. I wouldn't let myself go to Gap Baby and swoon over all the cuteness. I still struggled, but I dealt with it better. At this point learning that a friend was pregnant was no surprise and fewer of those bothered me. I know it's awful to say but sometimes when certain people would get pregnant I was so jealous I couldn't be happy for them. I thought I deserved it more or they hadn't put in their time trying like we had. All of these thing were difficult, but the very hardest part of being infertile was knowing and believing that God is the author of life and he chooses where He will create it. It took a long time before I was able to come to terms with the fact that He was not choosing to create life in me. He was choosing to allow us to walk through heartache and disappointment after disappointment. Motherhood was something I wanted more than anything and He wasn't letting it happen. I begged. Other people begged for me. And still the answer is no. Five full years of no.
After three and half years of not being able to conceive and some preliminary tests, we were lead to adoption and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that was the right decision. Even as we walked through that process and brought home the most precious baby boy I still held out hope that someday I would carry a baby. I would get to be pregnant.
When I wasn't looking something has changed in my heart. It was like I woke up one day and the HUGE desire to carry a baby was a little less and a little less until peace has replaced that longing. Would I still love to be pregnant and get to know what that right of passage feels like? Sure. Would I love to see what a Chris/McKenzie combo would turn out to be? Of course. But am I ok if I don't ever get to do that. Yes.
Before we had Tucker I found the only aspect of baby-dom that wasn't super hard or disappointing. The Nursery. I would decorate our nursery in my head. I would tuck ideas into the back of my mind. I had several totally planned in my head. The perfect room to welcome a long awaited baby into our home. In fact this was so important to me that when we found out we were having a baby in three weeks I whipped one of those nurseries into reality. People teased me about stripping the wall and doing so much to that room when we had so little time, but it was important to me.
Looking back I realize that Tucker didn't care, still doesn't care really. He was happiest in my arms, not in a beautiful room that I worked so hard on. He needed love not color coordinating fabrics, decor, and finishings. I placed so much importance on the nursery. I thought that if that wasn't perfect I would be failing at my first act of motherhood. I worked nearly around the clock to get everything just right. And now I realize that pregnancy is a lot like that room. It's important and valid to want it, but it isn't what makes you a mother. Cute decor and feeling a baby kick are both relatively short lived. They only last for a short time. Motherhood lasts the rest of my life. I'm not saying that somedays I don't still grieve the loss of the dream of pregnancy, but I'm so thankful I'm able to say, "You give and take away, blessed be the Name of the Lord," and mean it.
I will admit when we first brought Tucker home and I read blogs of other new mothers I wondered if some of the blogs I wanted to post were valid. I didn't really feel like apart of the club. Another misguided step on my journey. My heart made me a Momma, not my uterus or ovaries. The day I found out Tucker was coming I joined the club. I just came through a different entrance.
I hope these thoughts that have been swimming around in my heart and head for the last several months haven't offended any of you who have gotten to be pregnant. I'm no longer envious of your blessings, but thankful for the clarity that this path has brought to me.