I've just read a post at Mel's and it reflected so accurately my melancholy but from a different angle.
She talks about the heart ache of giving away her precious baby stuff that she has stored as her twins have outgrown it for when they add to their family. About how much giving those things away means accepting that for them that part of the journey is over (at least for now). It's about how we attach so much longing to these things, that others, the more fertile in the world, may never understand.
For me, I'm still going around the 'I'm never going to pregnant' roundabout. I will feel fine about it, and then suddenly there it is again. I have to accept that I will never get pregnant without medical treatment. That I can't put me, or M or our emotional well being through that cycle of destruction again. That I will never have a new born baby in my arms that belongs to us.
And it's not helped by the people who surround me. 'Well you can always try again', or 'perhaps you'll get pregnant once you've adopted' have been comments made by our families. I'm trying hard to educate people about adoption in the UK - we won't adopt a new born, if we were exceedingly lucky we could adopt a 6 month old, but more generally children are about 18months to 2 years when they are adopted (if not older).
Much as Mel has got to get rid of all the physical presence of what might never be, I have to get my head around the emotional presence. And I that I will get there, but will I ever get to the point where I will lose that longing for what might have been?
I sat at Brownies last week helping them make Mothering Sunday presents for their Mums. And one girl, said 'I feel sorry for Auntie G... because she never gets anything on Mother's day' and I had to smile and say, 'I know'. It's hard because not only at that moment did I feel my pain, but also Auntie G's (who by the way I know). I know that adoption will build our family - but will it repair the hurt that infertility has caused - because that's what I long for.
12 hours ago