Flaco announced to me on Sunday that he is planning on moving to Connecticut in the next several months. It bothers me and then it bothers me that it bothers me. It’s not like I’m secretly hoping he will come back because after all that has happened I just don’t think there is the possibility to “go back.” With trust being destroyed and the emotional damage done, it simply isn’t possible to revive a true committed relationship from the dust that is left behind. But, I realized last night as I was trying to fall asleep I am lonely and it is a wholly unattractive feeling. I miss the little things; a kiss good-night or good-morning, holding hands and snuggling, rolling over to nestle into that special comfortable spot, a quick phone call in the middle of the day just to hear your voice. I miss these things and more. I miss having someone special to care about and having someone special caring about me. I realize now with the clarity of hindsight, that there was a lot broken about our relationship and there are plenty of things I don’t miss. But, as lonely as I feel and as much as I would like to be in a committed relationship again there is something holding me back. I don’t know if it is just residual feelings for Flaco or fear of getting hurt again, but there is one thing that has struck me recently that I believe is holding me back from diving into the dating scene – knowledge. When I was dating Flaco and then once we got married, I just assumed, as everyone assumes, that I would be able to get pregnant. I assumed that all systems were a go and that my ovaries and uterus would work as they are supposed to and bring a new life into this world. Now I know better. Now I have a diagnosis and realize that having a biological child without expensive medical intervention is not possible. I think this is why I am so gung-ho about adopting solo. In my twisted mind, finding someone as a single adoptive mother is easier than finding someone and trying to convince them that I can’t give them a child and we should adopt. Because it is still something I don’t generally speak openly about, I’m reticent in revealing my fertility inadequacies. But, on the few dates I have had, it does come up mostly because I mention being a foster mother hoping to adopt. Why adopt? Why not have a biological baby? And then “it” must be explained. I don’t know if I find it difficult because I feel like I would (and should?) be less desirable as “damaged” goods – after all, who wants broken ovaries? Or maybe I find it difficult because I have closed the door on biological children, for so long I harbored the thought that Flaco and I would “accidentally” get pregnant after we adopted. Isn’t it a commonly believe myth that an infertile couple adopts and then finds out they have spontaneously conceived? But, I have mourned the loss of a biological child into the ground, to the moon and back. Having to explain this to someone new to the game is like jamming a pencil into the old wound and twisting it around a bit. And, as odd as this might sound, the hardest part is that I cannot say definitively that I am unable to procreate. No, I am not 100% incapable of birthing a child, it is just a complicated and expensive endeavor to actually conceive. Since I have never conceived a child, I must assume that should conception occur I would be able to carry and deliver a healthy baby. And we all know what happens when we assume…..
So, with all these hang-ups I should just embrace my status of solitude and cozy up to the idea that I will be single for quite some time. I have two friends who have recently turned 70 and they are single and have been for most of their lives. They each had a son rather young and after tumultuous marriages (one was married just once, the other was married 3 times), they decided to forge ahead alone. One friend (the one married several times) makes mention of being lonely from time to time but the other friend never does (although she did mention she joined match.com but found this process as distasteful as I did). They live full lives and are truly wonderful, strong, beautiful women whom I love very much. I suppose this is not something too awful to aspire to, right? They are doing well for themselves all alone and they are both very spry – one would not guess their age, they have such young souls! Obviously I am a long way off from 70, but I also need to just get used to being me, alone. It’s so funny because I was single all through high school and college, never had a boyfriend and while I wanted one, it was just never an all-consuming desire. I was happy being busy with other things – 4-H, friends, getting my college degree. Even when I joined the Peace Corps, I was really ok with being just me, learning a new language and culture and just living life. But now I feel rather unfulfilled as a singleton. Is it because I had “it” and now I cannot fathom my life without a “we” or is it because my biological clock ticks so loudly I can’t hardly hear myself think? I don’t know. I’m trying to learn how to just be content in the now, to let the future worry about itself and take things one day at a time. After all, what is the point in rushing life?
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