Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Where's My Baby?

I am 25.  25.  That's it. 

I got pregnant at 17 and it took absolutely no trying.  Obviously at an unmarried 17, I was not doing what I should have been doing to get pregnant.  My ideas and beliefs have completely changed and I wouldn't ever trade a minute of it.  Ever. 

So now I am ready... Where's My Baby?

We have been trying fairly regularly (ok so we don't try every single night or anything- but we are trying) for about 1 1/2 years and before that off and on for a couple of years.  When you only have your cycle 2 times a year it's pretty hard to schedule anything. 

But we've been trying for sooo long... Where's My Baby?

Our daughter has been asking for a sibling, literally, for about 5 years (since she was a little over 2).  She is extremely nurturing, loving, responsible, fun, lovable and happy- except for when she comes to me or her dad crying her beautiful blue eyes out because she doesn't have a brother or sister.  When she says this to me and even when she doesn't say it but I can see it in her face I feel like the absolute worst mother in the entire world and all I can do is apologize and ask her to keep waiting.  It's all I can do to not join her with tears of my own.  Extreme, you think?  Not to me. 

Our innocent daughter has be waiting for what must seem like forever... Where's My Baby?

To me getting pregnant and birthing a baby is probably the most natural, innate thing in the world.  It makes a woman a woman

I am a woman... Where's My Baby?

In the past 4 months, I have personally known and have had to hear about at least 5 people who got their baby (not counting people I've known but not personally)... many without trying and many without even wanting.  I love hearing about it... I really do... I love babies and I loved being pregnant and I'm happy for them... really I am.  But it has been such a struggle especially with the ones who have not wanted for me to not be extremely bitter and jealous.  I worked in the dorm room at an adoption agency with the pregnant moms who were placing their babies.  Obviously none of them planned their pregnancies.  None of them tried.  Some were on their 3rd, 4th or 5th pregnancy.  Some were 12 and some were 35.  I loved the girls and their hearts... what a horrible struggle for them... I cannot imagine. 

But my heart aches for one... Where's My Baby?

I understand that I have an amazing daughter and words cannot express how blessed I am by her but why can I not bless her with someone who she can (hopefully) always turn to... someone who will always know what it was like to grow up with us for parents... someone who will (again hopefully) be there after we die to cry with... someone to have be an aunt or uncle to her kids... someone to be a parent with. 

Where's My Baby?

It is so easy to be bitter and jealous and angry.  Too easy.  And no one who has not been here can ever understand.  I don't think ever.  And I didn't before.  It's not an easy thing to talk about unless you are talking with another woman who probably also feels like less... much less... of a woman.   I don't want sympathy and I definitely do not want to hear that things happen for a reason... I know, but I also know that those are never helpful words for someone who is grieving.  I definitely do not want to hear that I am only 25 and have plenty of time... I know, but I also know that my daughter is getting older and the window for sibling bonding is most likely shutting a little more every day which is why you had your kids only a couple of years apart.  I definitely do not want to hear that I am blessed to have one child... I know, I really know, but I also know that you could have no idea how I feel when your heart is complete with the number of different goodnight kisses you give or with the number of lunches you have to pack for the park picnic or with the number of plates you set at the table.  Please no sympathy and there are few words that will not leave me wanting to share my feelings less and less often.  I feel guilty.  I feel like my body is a failure.  That I have failed my body.  That I am failing my husband and my daughter.  That in turn I am even failing God.  Failing Him by not taking better care of my body... failing Him by not being satisfied enough with my daughter... failing Him by becoming so easily bitter, jealous and angry... failing Him by not trusting Him... failing Him by not always trusting that it will all work for His glory or that He knows the best for my life.       


The hope I have can only come from Him.  No one or no thing can I ever put my trust in.  Ever.  So when I cry or rather bawl my eyes out He is the only one there for me, who I imagine is crying with me. 

So I wait.  I will wait.  I will wait.  And I will wait longer.   

We are working towards fostering to adopt.  Waiting.  I like to think that I haven't had any more children because My Baby is also waiting for me.  Waiting.  Waiting for a mommy and daddy, which might just be worse than my waiting.  I know it's worse.  We wouldn't be adopting right now if we had had another baby so maybe that's the answer. 

And so I will wait for My Baby and just maybe My Baby is waiting for me.  

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