So I have been pretty reluctant to share my troubles with Niblet, for pretty obvious reasons. I have also been reluctant to put the heavy burden on her of her miraculous existence. Maybe a kid doesn't want to be a miracle, they just want to be a kid, right?
Well, the past few weeks have been cray cray at work, and just as I started to decompress, and take a moment to breathe and wake up to the fact that maybe, just maybe, spring is here, Niblet springs this on me, running into the house from some very contemplative time swinging on her tire swing in the back yard:
Mom, I don't want to be an only child. I really wish I had a little sister. Couldn't we maybe, like, adopt a child who needs a family from an orphanage? Why can't we?
I'm not sure I have the ability to do the play by play of this conversation. I did everything I could to highlight how wonderful our family of three was. How special our relationship is. I know that I tried my best to explain how difficult adoption was (and for reals, in case anyone is wondering, I have actually researched the topic at length)....I explained that actually, there weren't a lot of babies to adopt in the US.... that there were children to foster, but these would be kids who would be placed back with there mommies or daddies after they got the help they needed....how to adopt - like some of our friends did - we would need a lot of money to find a baby overseas, in Asia or Africa....
This was a draining conversation, because Niblet couldn't wrap her brain around lots of things. Why babies cost money. Why mommy and daddy couldn't just have one of their own babies with mommy's egg and daddy's sperm. So I made the first, teensiest attempt at explaining my RPL with her.
M: Well, I have been to many many doctors. And it looks like Mommy was born with some problems that make it hard to have a healthy baby. You know how we read in that book how women are born with lots of eggs? Mommy actually had fewer eggs than most women, and it turns out that the eggs I was born with were unhealthy and couldn't make a healthy baby.
N: Is that why you had a baby die in your tummy mommy?
M: Yes, actually I had more than one baby die in my tummy sweetie, there were a few.
N: Can't you just try again with another egg?
And here we are. Hundreds of dollars of therapy into reconciling my family of three, and Niblet isn't. having. any. of. it.
N: But This is so unfair! (tears are streaming down her face)
M: Yes, yes it is. And you have the right to be sad and angry that you can't have the kind of family you want. It's okay to be sad and angry, mommy sometimes is too. Not all of the time, but mommy - and daddy - we get sad too. Just like people who get very sick, they get sad and angry at how unfair it is. Because sometimes bad things really do happen to good people. And sometimes we try and try, but we can't control things we want to control.
So where have we ended up in these days of conversations? In a really strange place. I explained with all honesty, that Dad and I have never stopped trying to have a baby, but that we have come to accept that it would take a miracle for us to have one.
N: (Her eyes widen. It seems I have opened a door). Can't I pray for a miracle?
M: Of course you can sweetheart. I would never say you couldn't hope for something you wanted, I would only say that you shouldn't get your hopes up for something you can't get, through no fault of anyone.
Niblet is right. It really is unfair. :( Hugs
ReplyDeleteHi. I've been reading for a while but not commented before. These conversations are so hard and leave me reeling for days. It may sound harsh, but right from the start I told my daughter that you can't always get what you want in life (in my case, since she has been old enough to ask, there has been zero chance of a sibling) and she seems to accept this. It's been a very hard lesson to learn as an adult, but I figured that if I taught it to her early, she would deal with life's disappointments better. We'll see if it works! I haven't had a sibling question from her for a while, but you've made me realize they will probably keep coming back once she is old enough to know about things like adoption (she's currently four). Anyway, I'm rambling. What I really wanted to say is thank you for writing about this. I find that so many secondary infertility bloggers often stop mentioning infertility, or only mention it very rarely, after a year or two of TTC #2, which makes me feel very isolated. While I'm very sorry to read about your painful experiences, it's comforting to know I'm not the only one whose family is still struggling to come to terms with being a family of three.
ReplyDeleteNaomi
Naomi, I am so sorry for your struggles.
ReplyDeleteYes, I think that at the end of the day, the pain of these experiences never disappears, it just manifests itself in different ways. I too have been as firm as possible with my daughter that she learn to understand that sometimes we really can't get everything we want. It's a work in progress, I guess. Huge hugs, and thank you for your comment.
It always rips me up when my kids ask if I'll have another baby--or, worse, when my youngest says, Don't worry, Mom, you'll have another baby soon. Ugh. Heartbreaking. I hate to burst their bubble, but life just isn't fair sometimes.
ReplyDeleteSometimes we have to burst the bubble. So sorry momma. When does it get easier?
DeleteSometimes we have to burst the bubble. So sorry momma. When does it get easier?
DeleteI totally thought I had commented on this, maybe it was a different post, anyway here it is (potentially) again.
ReplyDeleteG's newest thing is Mom! Let's buy an orphan!
So many levels of wrong.
Yeah that was pretty much the gist of Niblet's pitch.
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