There’s something that’s been bothering me but I don’t know what to call it. You know, I’m just living life but I don’t live in a bubble, so I hear things on the radio or on TV and of course I’m seeing and hearing this all with a perspective that is different. Maybe not so different, since it affects 1 in 10 adults according to some studies. I see the world through the haze of infertility. It’s not the same as people who have never experienced infertility because, to be perfectly blunt, they just don’t get it. But, the thing that has been bothering me is the loss of innocence I have as a first-time mom. I hear these new moms on the radio or TV talking about how much their life has changed since their little bundle of joy arrived and I realize that I’ve lost that. I guess I was a first-time mom with my first placement, unsure of what I was doing, hoping I was doing “it” right. But, it’s not quite the same being a new mom to a walking, talking toddler as it is to a newly minted newborn. I don’t get that feeling of awestruck wonder at the miracle I created. My body is not flooded with the crazy hormones drugging me with love for the child I carried inside of me for 9 months. I don’t worry about latching on for breast feeding or how to change a newbies diaper. I don’t contemplate bringing baby home and adjusting to this new life. I’m just tossed into the fray, taking in a child or children then jumping right back into my daily grind. I don’t have the luxury of a maternity leave to coddle my baby and insulate us from the world. Even when I had a newborn baby – I got her on Friday and by the following Tuesday I was back to work full-time. What new mom does that? So, I lament another loss. Maybe I’m looking for things to mourn at this point? But, I also find myself somewhat impatient with those wide-eyed first-time moms. If I can do it all by myself and still manage to work full-time and care for the entire household, why do they make so much of this process? I don’t sequester myself at home, getting lost in mommy world and forgetting I’m a grown up with grown up things to do. Perhaps it’s jealousy, but I find myself thinking that first-time mom’s make mountains out of mole hills with their first kid. Put on your big girl panties and get on with it already! I guess, that’s just because it’s what I had to do and so I find myself impatient with those who take their sweet old time navigating the maze of motherhood because they can – and I cannot.
On the flip side, I have become quite knowledgeable. I feel like I can deal with a child of any age, from brand-spanking new to teenager. I have experience with all kinds of kids, the quiet and the not so quiet, the behavioral messes and the sweetie pies. I’ve dealt with diaper rash, ear aches, vomiting, chicken pox, and runny noses galore. I’ve gone on many doctor and dentist visits. I’ve learned the value of naps and a predictable schedule. I’ve enrolled a kid in school, helped with homework and changed baby-sitters more times than I would like to remember. When CHOR calls me with a placement, I’m like “I got this.” Yet, I don’t quite get the recognition of a seasoned mother because, frankly, I’m not a mother. At church I’m the baby whisperer, holding the inconsolable child until she falls asleep. The kids in my Sunday school class asked the other teacher, who is the mother of a beautiful 18 month old girl, if she was tired of her child and could she give her baby to me – we have talked about me not being a mother but wanting to be a mother. Children don’t understand infertility any more than the rest of us do. I feel like I’m a wanna be. I’m desperately trying to get into the “cool” club but I’m always being denied because I don’t have that one thing, regardless of all the experience I’ve had, no matter how many kids have lived in my house – I’m excluded. Maybe someday I can walk the fringes of the mommy club, but I won’t have the battle scars, the stories of torn things and stretch marks, to really envelope me into the folds. I won’t have the physical scars on my body but I certainly have emotional scars. My road to motherhood has been littered with potholes and roadblocks, daunting to even the most stalwart traveler. I hope to keep to the middle of the road until I reach my final destination and I’m hoping that will be soon.
I had another dream, this time I was in church with my new brood. I had a tiny newborn baby strapped to my chest and was guiding two little ones into the church with the boy who was staying with me over the weekend trailing behind (dunno why he was in my dream, I guess I’ve just been thinking about him). The little ones were twins, about 18 months old, boy and girl. The girl looked just like my church baby (the one I hold and put to sleep). That was all there was to the dream, just us arriving at church. It’s the vividness of the dream that entraps me. Everything feels so real because it looks just like real-life. Again, I could feel the weight of the baby even after the dream and I could hear the little one’s babbling to one another, as I helped them out of their jackets and settled them into their seats. When my alarm went off this morning, I just wanted to linger in my dream, to stay in the world that felt so real and yet so unattainable.
I still feel like my baby is almost here, like it will be this week or maybe next week, but it will be soon. Maybe I am wrong, but I hope I am not. I did get a call from CHOR letting me know that the little boy they called me about the beginning of the month is staying in his current foster home (they changed their minds and want to adopt him) and that they have not heard anything on the three girls they called me about last week but they will keep me posted. We shall see what happens........ Crossing my fingers and hoping my premonition is true, that I will be getting a placement (my baby!!) soon!!!!
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