I have often thought about trying to be a "real stuff" blogger. But I am not. I am not a writer, and I often feel that there aren't enough things I can write about. Oh sure I can write about midwifery... but when I write about midwifery it borders on the edge of medical advice or hipaa violations. Those are two things I cannot blog about. I don't give out medical advice over the internet, I don't give it out over text messages, I don't give it to my friends. I give medical or midwifery advice :) to my patients. So I can't tell you what I would do in my own situation, but I can't advise someone else in a different situation because I don't know all the facts.
I can tell you about procedures and pregnancy and childbirth... but people want to hear birth stories. I don't often get permission from my patients to share their birth stories, not because I ask and they say no, but because I want birth stories to come from the mother herself. Her birth story is much different than the birth story I would tell.
I would like to become a "real stuff" blogger one day. Maybe just for one post. But until then I will be thankful for the bloggers who do post real stuff- like this post I ran across today about a woman who struggles daily with infertility but now has adopted children.
Henry Wyatt 10 weeks old
I've been thinking about infertility. Not sure why.
I don't have any grand bit of wisdom to impart. I don't understand the complex emotions involved. I can't tell you how to deal with it.
But I know I made it through something like twelve years of wanting a child. I know I am now standing on the other side of that trial and au revoir to thatthankyouverymuch.
As I sit here on my sofa typing this, with slobber spots on my pants and little finger prints all over the furniture, these are the things that come to my mind. It's not wisdom. It's just what I know.
The joy we experienced when our children finally arrived was equal to, and may have even exceeded, the sorrow we felt at our darkest moments.
Unlike childbirth, you never forget the pain of not being able to have a child.
Just because you wanted children for much longer than most people doesn't mean your kids won't drive you up the wall. Just because you went through hell to get them here doesn't mean they will appreciate it. At the end of the day, you are just a parent like any other.
Refraining from buying baby things until you are pregnant is just a silly way of trying to insulate your feelings. Go ahead and buy stuff. It will put you ahead of the game when it finally happens. Wanting those little baby things means you still have hope.
Feeling bitter and nasty towards others who are having babies is completely normal. It doesn't make you a bad person. However, if you behave badly in these circumstances, down the road the bitterness you feel will be of regret.
When you have infertility you must think of it as a war. You will loose battles. It will be expensive. Plans will be made and then cast aside for new plans. If you want to win, you will not retreat. You will regroup and press forward.
And you will need a good mate for the fox hole. If this relationship isn't right, you might want to lay low and reconsider.
Here's the last thing I know. It took me years to realize this. In fact, it only dawned on me a few months ago. I could never figure out why I had to go through infertility. What was I supposed to learn? Why was that part of my life path?
Here's what I know today. I had to experience infertility to lead me to adoption. I had to wait for my adopted children because at the time I started wanting them their birth mother was only fourteen. My children were to be born by this girl and only this girl. That was the plan. Sometimes the Lord has to work with logistics.
I'm not at all sure why I am writing this today. Maybe there is someone out there that needs to hear this? I don't know.
But I'm writing it down. For the record.
Now that is "real stuff." Well said and thank you.