Sparky and I celebrated 12 years of wedded bliss this weekend. Now, in the previous post I stated that we were having a party. I did have a party, but it wasn't for us. It was for my good friend, Shannon. I hosted a surprise baby shower for her here at the house. I worked my butt off for days, as did Sparky, and I'm happy, oh so happy it's over. Sometimes it's just too much. I started planning the party before our world fell apart. Before we lost our Grandpa's and before we knew that his job sucked and we'd have to move again, even though we'd just decided to pursue adoption. Really start pursuing having a child again. I began to feel happy, elated at the thought that some day, some day, my wait would be over. Now, we're back to uncertainty.
When I look at Shannon I grow sad. Not sad that she's lucky enough to experience the miracle of pregnancy and birth, but sad that I may never know what it feels like to grow a child in my womb. I may never know what it's like to be showered and gushed over. Adoption is taboo. Filled with too many "what-ifs" and "maybes". I just want what I thought was guaranteed to all women. Little did I know.
Most of the time it doesn't bother me. After 8 years I'm pretty numb. Too numb. It took 2 funerals in one week to finally help me cry. I'm a very emotional person, well, I was a very emotional person. But every time my dreams fail, I lose a little bit more of me. Bit by bit, I seem to disappear.
I know that there are more than one way to have a family, grow a family. I have no doubt that when we move forward with adoption I'll love our child(ren) as if I grew them in my womb. Possibly even more. But I will miss knowing what it feels like to have them push, pull, feel, grab and grow. I would like to feel it all. To feel again. Period.
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