So the question is: was it worth it?
Mmmm, well I suppose I’d have to examine my expectations and over the years, they have changed quite a bit.
I started trying to have a child in 2003, one year later I entered the wonderful, wacky world of IVF and crawled out 4 years later over to the even more delightful world of adoption. I’m not going to preach to the converted about how powerful the urge to procreate is, but I’ve had few yearnings that have demanded and received that kind of commitment on my part. Frankly, if I had applied such devotion to my life, I’d be a svelte size 8, be world famous and married to a filthy rich guy with a big package. Ooooh, so close!
I wanted to be a mother for all the usual reasons, and in truth, it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to do with my life. I just put it on the list of things to do after getting married and buying a house. Not having the best taste in men, it took me a while before I could find a suitable mate and when I did, it took quite a while before he was on the same page as me. Cold hard reality brought me the realization that having a child wasn’t as easy as I had assumed and despite medical technology and my iron will, I got my ass served to me via infertility. Having a child became more like pursuing the holy grail, the ends justified the means. All the fun of babymaking went out the door, and I lost my privacy, my innocence, my sense of control and my sense of womanhood.
I did my grieving, my moaning, my railing at the bitter winds of biology and enduring the WAITING. Barely. On the incredibly bumpy plane ride home, the thought occurred to me that I had pissed off God, or the Universe who had conspired to keep me childless (sometimes it felt personal, you know?) and now that I had a baby in my arms, the plane was going to go down. My idea of dark humour. When we finally made it home and I saw my girlfriend, I just started sobbing. Not completely out of joy. It was more like relief. The waiting was OVER. I was emotionally drained. The care and feeding of Special K and the love I felt from my husband, my family, friends and you all gave me immense comfort and happiness. I had people cheering for me and I felt it.
Maybe like a woman who has just given birth, going through all that again is not a pleasant thought. I just want to put all the unpleasant process behind me but I still have 3 social worker visits left. I just want to enjoy this time. In the wee hours of the morning is when I feel the greatest happiness. It’s quiet, just light coming through the blinds. I’m half asleep, I’m feeding him and he’s looking at me, right through me, and as I whisper daimoku to him, I feel full.
There isn’t a piece of cake in the world that tastes this good. Did I answer the question?