Embracing My Life

I know I just wrote about this topic a bit ago but it’s such a break-through thing for me, I have more to say. Even though I have been mostly single (with just 3 short-term relationships) since my ex-husband left, I held onto the fantasy that I would meet someone and, biology be damned, we would make a miracle baby. So, I needed to be prepared. I needed to have things ready and available for this invented miracle. In nearly 6 years it hasn’t happened and the likelihood of any pregnancy that doesn’t include advanced medical help, is slim to none – as it has always been. Still, even with the writing on the wall, with my age ever marching forward, I kept the things. Maybe I would get another baby in foster care. Yes, that is a possibility. Only, it really isn’t. But, as we all know, I am not good at letting things go. I’d like to be and I’m doing better with that, but I really get stuck on things sometimes. So, finally being willing to part with the paraphernalia that I have tucked in my basement and closets and under my bed, in hopes of something miraculous happening, well, it’s just a big deal to me. It’s such growth to truly be ok with my life as it is because I have spent nearly a decade fighting the hand I have been dealt in life, refusing to give up the dream of motherhood, and pushing forward even when the path was obscured and treacherous. I don’t regret pushing so hard to be a single mother. I don’t regret my children in any way, rather I’m astounded that I get to be their mom – I mean, how lucky am I to have three beautiful children?

 

When my ex-husband left I was crushed at losing our relationship but, in a more complex way, I was devastated at losing what I called my “chance.” I didn’t want to give up, even if we weren’t using any medical infertility, I wanted to believe there would be some magic that would cause me to fall pregnant. Of course, if I wasn’t in a relationship, not having sex, that possibility was also gone. Somehow, in my twisted mind, being prepared would somehow make the impossible a possibility. You know, if you build it they will come? Yeah, something like that. My greatest fear, at that time in my life, was being alone and childless. I just couldn’t fathom making anything of my life beyond a marriage and children. And that’s pretty sad, but it’s my truth. So, I pushed hard to become a mother, even though it’s been very trying and I really wish I wasn’t doing it alone. My ex-boyfriend and I talked about having a baby and I had to explain to him at least a half-a-dozen times why it was not very likely I could ever have a child, let alone conceive without expensive medical assistance. I wished he would just google PCOS, but instead I spent a good deal of time explaining how it affects me and why it means I can’t just get pregnant with lots of sex.

 

I thought I might be willing to discard or gift the things I used for Love Bug, but having him grow out of things only made me hold onto them more tightly. Partly because I wished I had been more present when he was tiny. He was a tough baby and didn’t sleep much, so my sleep deprivation was at partial fault but really, the biggest obstacle I had to throwing my whole heart into loving Love Bug was the uncertainty of his place in my life. He was a foster baby and while I loved him, I had to keep a portion of my heart safe lest he be taken away from me, like other baby’s had been. I think back now, knowing he isn’t going anywhere, and wish I had let myself wholly love him. Maybe he sensed my hesitation and that’s why he’s so attached to me now? I don’t know, but thinking that Love Bug would be my only child that I got to feed a bottle and bathe in a baby tub, it made me feel like I needed to hang onto all of it more, to not let go of things. But, that isn’t really healthy, so I’ve got to let it go.

 

So, I’ve come a long way to now be ready to part with the things I so painstakingly collected and stashed for my imaginary baby. I’m not saying I won’t cry as I pack it all up for a baby that isn’t mine, but I’m hoping it will end up being freeing and cathartic to get it all out of my house. No more waiting for an imaginary, possibly impossible baby. It may have taken me longer than I might have liked, but I’m now ready to embrace and live the life I have instead of the one I wanted before infertility changed my plans.