Another road less travelled

I’ve written a few paragraphs, edited it, then deleted the whole thing only to start again.  I wanted to say something, but figured what I was trying to say was completely useless to the women who read my blog, completely useless to those who are still trying to conceive, or completely useless cause you’re just fine as you are.

Two years into having a child in our lives, I wonder how long I will still identify as being infertile.  Seriously, I’m 48 now.  Cranky.  With a seriously compromised uterus.   (Did I mention I was carded at the liquor store a few weeks ago? Yep, that made me a lot less cranky.) There have been a couple of pregnancy announcements lately of women in my acting sphere, one of which is in her 40’s) and I admit I felt that little ping.  It’s almost like a kneejerk reaction from the old TTC me.  You know the one.  The one that says she’s pregnant and you’re not and never gonna be.  Followed by the right thinking brain that says, hey, girl you’re 48, you know and a mother already who doesn’t pee when she sneezes, so stop it.  You have gray  hairs and chin hairs, really, why should you care?  Observe the thought and then watch it pass.  I guess I’m always going to care, at least a little bit.  In that I’ve always wanted to go to Greece but I’ve been banned from ever travelling there kind of way.

Of course, I also have a child – yes, people JUST ONE, and I’m quite content.  Grateful to be able to share the experience of parenting with my spouse.  I will now go to baby showers if I’m invited.  I will hold other people’s babies.  It doesn’t hurt anymore.  That old dream of having a little girl half me, half DH is long gone.  Perhaps she’ll  manifest in another lifetime, who knows?  In the present, I’ve got an amazing little boy who is teaching me that motherhood is not for the weak. I am rewarded not with big paycheques or big movie roles, but with smiles, smooches, and “thank you, Mama”.  He’s not the slightest bit interested in propping up my sagging ego, but he does want me to pick him up and kiss his booboos away.  On those days, I stop worrying about what I don’t have.  Didn’t have.

Oddly enough, when my back aches, I’m tired from having my sleep continually interrupted and I’m bored out of my mind from daily routines, I think of what it would have been like had our adoption not taken place.  Remember my plan if things didn’t work out?  I was planning on going to Bali to have a nervous breakdown in very dramatic fashion.   Or if we had just chosen not to be parents at all.  No doubt, I’d be a little bit skinnier, perhaps I’d be working full time and I’d definitely be doing more creative work.  We might own our own home, probably a condo downtown, we’d be travellling more.  I’m sure I would have been content. I also know that in a part of my heart, my child that never was would be alive and well, keeping me company at 3am.

On those days, I think of all the women whose babies died or never came to be.  I wish adoption had been an option to them.  And yes, I do understand why a lot of people don’t go that route to become parents.  It is NOT  a choice for everyone.  I’m certainly not going to attempt it again myself.  I get why women try over and over and over.  Cause I did, too.  Yet, I wish some of those incredible women, whose hearts are so big and so full of love to give to a child, had chosen to adopt a child from wherever.  So that they could go down the other road less travelled. It’s nice here, even when it rains.

What’s the big deal with Greece, anyway?

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6 thoughts on “Another road less travelled

  1. What? You don’t pee when you sneeze? So it’s just me then…. Darn. I get ya on this one. I 110% get ya. And you are right, it’s pretty darn cool here, even when it rains.

  2. ahh….maybe it’s psychological but I sometimes pee when I sneeze. I hear you loud and clear though. I still feel that ping when someone announces their pregnancy but I can go to baby showers and rejoice in the birth of a friend’s baby now. I can relate to parents who wax poetic about their kids now too. Still I have to play that mind game, the one in which I convince myself pregnancy is not all it’s cracked up to be and I got really lucky not having to go through it.

  3. Oh, that’s what I think to myself, too. Oh, I would have had miscarriages or gotten some horrible condition or I could have had a child with Down’s or some other less than perfect outcome. Maybe I was being protected from a worse fate. Blah, blah, blah. I still dislike being caught up in labour and delivery stories,; it’s like this rite of passage that simultaneously sounds horrible and incredible at the same time. I had no idea at the beginning of this whole having a baby idea, what kind of hell I’d go through to confirm my womanhood.

  4. I think when adoption actually happens, it comes out of the blue (despite the wait), and all the old wounds don’t just magically heal up. In fact, they get buried a bit because you are so caught up in managing a baby, which is utter exhausting chaos. So 2-3 years later, all those old hurts can resurface and take another swipe at you.

    Hope to see you soon.

  5. Sometimes I wish I were one of those people who can just move forward without ever looking back, but apparently I’m not. Especially when I hear about someone in their “forties” having a baby. I’m still officially in my forties…tick, tick, tick….

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