I love fall.
It's when DH and I first started dating, got engaged and got married. It's beautiful. We had wanted to go to a national park for the three day weekend but thanks to the government shutdown the parks are closed. So instead we settled on a little creek fifteen minutes from our house out in the country. The drive was gorgeous. The day has been relaxing. I'm grateful for the moment.
But of course this is the same moment where the thought in the back of my mind creeps in. "The day would be better if we were with our kids... What if there are never kids?"
I've always had this thought in the back of my mind that if we couldn't have our own children we would adopt. My daydreaming/ attempt-at-planning even went so far as to think that we would adopt older children from foster care. I remember telling my SIL once, "I've never held a baby. I don't know if I would know how to take care of a baby. But older kids? Sure! We would adopt older kids if we couldn't have our own."
And I guess I'm still okay with that idea in theory, but now I feel all of these emotions I never thought I would have if I were ever in this situation. Thoughts like:
I want a baby.
I want our baby.
It matters that I see our child grow up.
I love teaching older students. In my opinion, I'm really good with the age group I teach. I "get" the age. I guess that's why I've always imagined adopting an older child who needs a home. And yet today I watched a documentary about foster care in America and it opened my eyes to some of the realities. I've always understood that the goal of foster care is to reunite children with their biological parents, but some of the situations these children return to will break your heart. I couldn't finish watching the movie because I felt so disgusted by some of the situations. How can the state take children from loving placements in the name of returning them to parents who, in the cases I saw in this film, will abuse them again and again? I know not every situation runs this way, but I've seen how social services operates within my own professional field and there are just too many gaps in the system. I don't know anymore if we would have it in us to do foster care if we aren't able to get pregnant.
I hate that I'm thinking this far down the road, but it's the only way I know how to cope with the uncertainty. As much as I try, I can't keep my mind off of it. The worry has become a constant and I'm angry that it started so many months ago. I should have been allowed to be naive about the entire TTC process, but the pain I'm in- the constant questions surrounding it - have robbed me (and us) of that. I feel like I've already diagnosed myself, condemned my fertility and have ruled out the possibility of adopting. So negative.
What will our lives be if we never have kids? DH has said we will travel a lot. I'm sure he's right. But will I ever be able to go out to a restaurant and not feel hateful toward the cute little family in the booth across from us? Will I be able to keep doing a job that requires me to work with other people's children every day and not feel bitter? Who will I be if kids don't happen for us? Who will we be?
I know I shouldn't think this way yet, but for the first time in my life, I have no idea what the next two years will look like. I plan in twos and now I have no idea where the next two will take us- let alone the next twenty. Maybe this is how normal people feel. I guess I'm not supposed to know the future.
I'm grateful for my husband. I'm grateful for our home. I'm grateful for our lives. I think I can be grateful and still want more.
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