I hope it is okay if I use this post as a way to release some soft tension. Thanks.
We're marching along diligently toward our baby boy being born. He is a wild and wonderful little thing in my belly, and I take daily delight in his being. I cannot wait, cannot wait, just absolutely cannot wait to meet him; then I cannot wait to have DW pregnant with her first baby-in-belly. Our big kid (10) is wonderful and warming up nicely to having a baby brother. All is right in the world.
But my shoulders feel heavy and nervous. I know I'm just pregnant and hormonal, but it is hard to align the feelings from the cause. I'm worried about how our boy will deal with life, if he'll be okay, if our life will be good.
I just finished my second week at my new job, my wonderful new job. While I'm overjoyed at my new work, I'm also tired and exhausted. I can't always keep all my thoughts organized and I know that it is probably because I'm pregnant and hormonal AND tired, but, again, it is difficult to separate my competence from my health.
And I have heavy, disquieting thoughts on my mind about our donor family. We chose KD, for many reasons. Everyone involved is mature, thoughtful, compassionate and good. Still, even with all good intentions, it is difficult. I think his partner, my friend, is having a hard time, and it breaks my heart.
Do any of you think about your donor when you think about your baby? I know, from my own experience, that thoughts of unknown biologic relatives can float around in a person's mind, kind of a haunting note that never leaves but is not always painful. That's how I think about our donor. I take solace knowing that whatever our son may feel, I am not spared from having my own echo of that. I will always know his donor, will think of his face and his kindness at odd moments, and yes, sometimes feel pangs of sadness and doubt. Which is not unlike the feelings I have from my other relationships. No relationship, no engagement with another being is devoid of bitter-sweet moments. So all wrapped up in this tiny boy is the messiness of life, people who love each other and yell at each other, and laugh in joy and cry huge, fat tears. All our little babies are beings of our creation, our imperfect selves doing the best that we can in our imperfect, lovely lives.
Years ago I experienced a tragic time. As a farmer, I experienced so much death and loss that I could feel my heart walling itself off. My own miscarriage was thrown in there. Beloved animals and wonderful wild things just seemed to drop around me, often in horrific and numbing ways. I experienced my only real panic attack at that time, after rescuing a horse that, in a moment of entrapped panic, had turned its body into shreds. Some time passed and I realized that I had a choice to make: I could be a person who blocked it all out and lived a heart-safe life, or a person who opened my heart up and let it come in, good and bad alike. I think if I had made another choice in that moment that I would have no children, and no partner, and no life of mine now.
So my choice was to let it all waltz in, late-for-works, and two dogs, and a million responsibilities, and breakfast for dinner because nobody can think, a career I have chosen and practice, and a lovely wife, a ten year old girl, a boy in my belly, and more babies to come. It is a rich and full and wondrous life with aches and pains.
My heart expands to take all these beings in. I have been stunned, recently, when I realized that I will have as much love for my son as I have for my daughter. It had not caught up with me until recently, the thought that he would be as big and monumental in my life as she. I cried huge tears that I could not bear all that love in my heart, could not handle twice again the ache that I feel when she is hurt or alone or unable to be under my protection. Life is just hard sometimes, and it hurts to watch it and be unable to assist.
But I am growing, feeling my heart grow not just bigger, but tougher, I think. Sort of an, "I got this" feeling. I am ending my thoughts with elation, true joy at the depth and breadth we are adding to our lives. All the gritty bits of life are part and parcel of what makes it good, deep, honest and true.
Thanks, peeps, for letting me share. I invite you to share your thoughts on family, life, the meaning of it and the mess behind it. Peace.
37, married to my favorite person in the world, DW! One darling surfer-girl (12) and one darling, sweet boy born 3/16/13.
5/2013 Started TTC #3, DW's turn: 5/2013: Diagnostics (shg) and surgery (polyp rem.) for best chances. July-Oct: IUI # 1-4, medicated, monitored, triggered. All BFN. IVF in Jan May. Sheesh. Whoop! IVF#1 cycle started 4/2/14. 5/1: 19 eggs retrieved, 8 matured, ICSI'd. 4 fertilized. Only 2 to transfer/freeze stage. 5/6: Two embryos transferred. 5/15: Beta #1 9dp5dt is 134! BFP! 5/19: Beta #2 13dp5dt is 672! B'erFP! 5/21: Beta #3 15dp5dt is 1853. Yay!
"Things separate from their stories have no meaning. They are only shapes. Of a certain size and color. A certain weight. When their meaning has become lost to us they no longer have even a name. The story on the other hand can never be lost from its place in the world for it is that place.” ― Cormac McCarthy, The Crossing