I was ecstatic when I found out in December that A Complicated Life was chosen by a birth mother to adopt a baby. My mouth dropped to the floor when I found out another month later that the adoption was dissolved because she was pregnant.
After how many years? Nothing short of a miracle.
What was my husband’s response, when I told him what had transpired?
When are you going to realize its only a matter of time?
I had no response.
The month went on to reveal that both girls that I have been in more personal contact with over these last months, and who have been trying for the same amounts of time as I have, are also pregnant. Women who would help me get through those particularly hard months through lovely emails of understanding. I selfishly wonder what I’ll do without them. The latter woman just started her own blog and I was all prepared to announce her publicly, in order to get her a nice friendly welcome :) It turned out she’s now accompanied by a tiny little growing baby as well, so please go say hi to Katie still!
So, when am I going to realize that it’s only a matter of time? My husband is the one that famously said, the more time that goes by, the closer we are to our family! Huh? My head wants to know this and I guess some days I do. I know it, that’s why I try to use the word sub-fertility, even when my heart screams No its impossible, you will never get pregnant, because I know that it is still possible. I know eventually a day will come when this will all seem like the distant past, whether through birth/foster care/adoption we will have our family or our understanding of what else we will do and we will know with certainty that it was only a matter of time. Because that time will have passed. It will kind of be like cheating, ha!
But now, that is not what I feel. My emotions follow hope up and down on a roller coaster to the point where they can’t tell which way was up and what direction I should be facing. What I feel after a failed month is that I am foolish for hoping, for believing that I could do the same thing and expect an entirely different result.
I often find it funny that I was given this cross of ‘difficult feelings’, something that I’ve more recently tried to discount and run away from in my adult years. Reason and rationality are the things that make this world go around, that make results appear in the world. Emotions are the things of little girls and silly women, that made me cry when my siblings would taunt me and that made my college roommates pine after boys that would never love them. Reactions that perpetuated endless teasing, foolishness and false hope. Feelings aren’t based in truth, but in subjectivity by design. But adults, they are beyond feelings. I was once (still am?) the harshest critic of someone who didn’t feel like doing something. Buck up, do it anyway. Feelings are that, abstract and clearly not necessarily based in reality nor truth. I didn’t understand these feelings that could be so paralyzing, so all consuming.
I do now. I guess I now understand what I dished out against, even if I only ever thought those things. It comes full circle. But just because I have these feelings, I still know it doesn’t make them right. Perhaps this is why this is so hard for me. I’m still fighting the reality of what I’ve become.
And now I’m trying hard to discount my own feelings, to push them down and out when they’re bursting at my seams, begging from some release. To have my head understand and rule my thoughts over my heart’s fickleness.
And to truly know and believe with my whole being that it is only a matter of time.
Even if I know half the time, its that other half that always gets me.