In less than three weeks, I will be going through rather an invasive surgery, as part of the choices I made in the past few years as it comes to my health. I am giving up on my dream of having children. Biologically that is. After last heartbreaking miscarriage in 2006, many fertility treatments, hopes and failures, I am finally letting it go. More accurately, I am letting my dreams of having children go.
I had known for a while that this day will come. As a helpless romantic and optimist, I confess that there always been a little light of hope that miracle might happen and I might be blessed with an opportunity to carry out the pregnancy and experience birth, joys of breastfeeding my child(ren).
Am I ready to let go? Sometimes I think I am, sometimes I think I am definitely not ready for that.
I know. Quite silly on my part. I had known for quite a while that probability of me conceiving, carrying and having a healthy baby is in a very low numbers (more like negative ones), but as my old friend once said, hope is the last one to die. Despite my knowing, there always was a little light of hope somewhere in the back of my mind and life. Oh, well. Time to grow up and accept the reality of who am I and my body limitations.
I might be a great godmother. I might be a great aunt or great grand aunt one day. I might be a great babysitter for my close friends and family children, but… I will always be the one ‘who had troubles having children on her own’ in whispers by people, friends and family around me. This whole situation makes me mad. Granted, no one does that on purpose, but at the end of the day, I am the one who didn’t produce any offspring.
Am I angry with myself, G-d, or crazy situation my body end up being in? That would really depend on the day. By sharing my thoughts and feelings today, I am making a choice of not being angry anymore.
I am just letting it go…
If one day I am blessed with an opportunity of joining folds of adoptive parenting, I would be eternally grateful for the challenge and opportunity. If it doesn’t pan out: I had my share of silly and wonderful kids growing up and forming into the wonderful almost adult beings during my teaching times.
I am still grateful. I truly am grateful. My choice today doesn’t mean that at times of my weakness or just a personal soul searching, that I couldn’t be found weeping somewhere in the dark corners of my soul about the losses I didn’t have or never got the opportunity to have.
One day I will be OK. One day I will get to enjoy (or regret) the challenges of sleepless, thankless bits of joy of the motherhood. 🙂 G-d willing. Today I am making a choice to live.
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Other people’s stories help women feel less isolated. They show that they aren’t going mad, missing the point or stupid.