Wondering

I've decided, you never can heal 100% from infertility. You try and try, but there is always something there to remind you. Your body is broken. Your dream was denied. You will never be that growing belly. You will never feel that life grow inside you. You will always wonder, but you will never know.  You will always be excluded from the motherhood club.

A friend recently asked if I changed my mind. If I wanted to try again. No, I don't. But I can't deny I would have loved the experience and I am jealous of those who do get to experience it. Sometimes, I just want to know what it feels like to have a baby kick inside your belly. And sometimes my arms ache to hold a new born. But after that, I'm ready to go back to real life.

My house is quite. And if its messy, its just my fault. Not that messy houses bother me, I think they looked lived in and happy.

Don't get me wrong. I wanted to be a mom. I wanted it so bad I thought it would tear me apart. I didn't think there was any other point to life if I couldn't be a mom.

But I couldn't keep living like that. My life was so messed up and I was such an emotional wreck I could hardly function.

I have moved on. There is more things in life to give you purpose besides motherhood. My life finally feels complete.

But still, I will never stop wondering what it would have been like.

Remembering

I've spent the day trying to remember the happy memories from our adoption journey. From the time we started the paperwork, to closing our profile, its a path we walked for 4 years. Four years of ups and downs (mostly downs). But it included a blissful four month period where we thought we were going to be parents.

I'm having a hard time. I remember how exciting the first email was. But then I remember, it didn't end well. I remember how nervous and excited I was for the first phone call. Then I remember, it didn't end well. I remember how we hugged and cried after being chosen. Then I remember the email that undid it all. I remember how excited I was to learn it was a girl. Then I remember, we don't have a little girl.

I really need to get excited about something, but I'm struggling. I keep reminding myself that this kind of thing is good news, but then, all I can remember is how our story ended and I have a hard time being happy. And its all selfish; its not like I'm worried they will have the same sad ending. I'm just reminded how sad mine was.

Then I remember other parts of our infertility journey. The endless tears. The hurt feelings of rejection and oblivion. The ignorance to just how hard it was to put a smile on my face when I was dying inside.

I don't know if I can do this again.