Stumbling around...

What does it mean to "stumble around" after being told you'll likely never have biological children?

Well, for me, it meant noticing every single pregnant woman present on the planet.  It felt like everywhere I turned there was some REALLY pregnant woman staring me in the face.  Whereas I had once been curious and intrigued by the process, I was, at that point, horrified. I felt like every pregnant woman was mocking me.  Of course, that was not the case, but that's how it felt.  It also felt like God was being extra cruel.   I'm sure most of ask God, or whatever/whomever you believe in, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?"  I've seen more than my share of sorrow and sadness and death.  Though I'm only 40, I feel like, because of my life experiences, I should be about 80.  At this point in my life, it felt like God was just piling on.  "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?" became an almost-daily mantra.

Invitations to baby showers rained from my mailbox.  When I wasn't being faced, literally, with pregnant women, I was being invited to their baby showers.  Now, I must say here that I knew several things:

1. I have the best friends in the whole world.  Most of them were the ones getting pregnant, and when I came clean with them and told them hat I couldn't go, they were totally cool with it.  Not one ever questioned my fidelity to our friendship.  Every single one felt for me, comforted me, and hugged me as if it were happening to them.
2. Pregnant women were NOT the problem.  I  was the problem.
3. I do regret not attending those baby showers.
4. I do regret spending so much time feeling so negatively about others' joy.
5. I also understand that what I was feeling was totally normal and that I should let go of the regret.

Stumbling around also meant wondering if I was ever going to be a mom.  My own mother is my best friend.  I wanted to have that type of relationship with my own children. At one point, I remember saying to Shannon, "Maybe I'm not supposed to be a mom," which was something he couldn't fathom.


I started to try and get used to the idea that we would never have children.  I started to imagine a life that was just about us.  Don't get me wrong--I have LOTS of friends who do not have children.  Do not misunderstand what I am saying. As much as deciding to HAVE a child is a HUGE decision, so is the decision to NOT have a child.  For me, though, I could not imagine a life without children. Most of my adult life had contained children: my oldest nephew was born when I was 20 and a junior in college; his brother was born 15 months later, one week after my dad died; when I was 22 I moved to Paris to work as a nanny for 3 kids for almost 2 years; I returned to the States in 1998 to watch my nephews and their new sister (born just before I moved back from Paris) grow up and become the adults they are today.  My life was ALL about kids even before I had them.  I knew that they were hard work, and I wanted nothing more than to do that hard work (I remind myself of this fact on the REALLY hard days with my kids).

So, how to construct a life without them?  I simply didn't know.   Thanks to science, I didn't have to wonder.  I could let the doctors do the work for us.  Science could only go so far.  The rest was up to God.