It was several years ago, when my husband and I were trying so hard to have our son. I was having lunch with a friend who also had dealt with infertility. Big difference is she had gone on to have a child, while I was still trying and trying and getting nowhere. And being told it probably wouldn't happen. And doing my best not to give up hope and/or turn bitter. She was my "go-to" on all things fertility related because she had "been there done that". Until that day at afternoon over chicken salad. That day it was her turn to vent about how much she desperately wished she could have another child. How it was a physical pain that she couldn't get to go away. How it was all she could think about and, no, adoption wouldn't do. I remember sitting across from her thinking, "but you have one. You should feel lucky. How can you be so upset when you have the one thing I want?"
Of course I said none of this to her. But I could feel the shift in myself immediately. I went home and told the whole story to my husband. About how ungrateful I thought she was. And didn't she realize how blessed she was? Of course he agreed with me. I mean, I was hormonal and teetering on the edge of a complete come apart - wouldn't you agree with me as well? Who knows if he really agreed or was just pacificing me. Who knows if he was actually thinking: "you are being so judgmental." Because I was. 1000%, completely judgmental. I thought she was completely wrong in her feelings. And it wasn't until last night that I realized how wrong I was. Because I finally gave into the same feelings.
When my husband and I were going through fertility treatments, we both agreed that we would stop trying when I turned 35. By the grace of God, I found out I was pregnant with Alex a week before that birthday. There never was any discussion of having a second, at least not before he was born. We were just so ecstatic to have our miracle baby. Soon after his birth, there was some discussion about how it was too late for another one, our finances could only handle one at that time, we'd have to try right away for another and we were so blessed with the one we had. I was completely on board with that decision.
Alex was born with some health issues so I knew trying right away wasn't an option. He stayed sick most of the time until he was just past three. Then it was almost the "honeymoon phase". We got to enjoy our son without tons of doctor appointments, sleepless nights, etc. It was the three of us and I was thrilled to just be a mom and have fun with our silly boy. It wasn't until he turned four that I started missing the idea of having a second child. I'm sure it was because he was going from a toddler to little boy. But I remember the night before his birthday being very sad that there wouldn't be another baby in the house anymore.
I told myself again how blessed we were. That he was our miracle baby. That I'd had surgery making it virtually impossible to carry another child. I told myself to get over it. And I pretty much did. Until Alex turned about five and started praying for a brother or sister. We had shared with him the story of him being a miracle, so no matter how many times I told him it wasn't possible, he said God could give us another miracle. And even though it hurt my heart a tiny bit each time he prayed, I told myself to get over it.
As Alex got closer to six, there were many conversations between friends about the differences between only children and those with siblings. And I would feel sad that Alex didn't have a best buddy at home. But I told myself to get over it. We are blessed. Alex is more than enough for us to handle (although I love him dearly) and two just wasn't in the cards. I kept telling myself that feeling sad that I didn't have two was like looking a gift horse in the mouth. God had answered our prayers, given us Alex, so we should be content with him and not long for more.
And I just kept telling myself all of that over and over. Until last night. It was a random conversation with Alex. He was mentioning how he wished he had a brother or sister to love like our friends did. And it hit me a lot harder than it had before. Because I also wanted that for him. And that's when I remembered my lunch with that old friend, where I had judged her for the same feelings. I realized that she had wanted another child for herself but also another child for her son to grow up with. And it hadn't made her selfish or wrong to have those feelings. And it took me having the sames ones to understand that.
Then something else hit me - telling yourself to "get over it" doesn't make those feelings just go away. It just stuffs them into another place that you don't pay attention to, that you ignore, that doesn't see the light of day. To TRULY get past something, you have to admit to yourself the desire you have and then grieve the losss of that desire.
Today I admit that I wished we'd been able to have another child. I wish it for myself and I wish it for Alex. I wish that I could have had a baby that wasn't born sick so I could have truly enjoyed those first years a bit more. I wish I could see Alex playing with a brother or sister and see how they would interact. I wish I could give Alex what he prays for so often. I wish I could see how his personality would have handled having a sibling - would he have been jealous or would he have embraced having another baby in the house? I wish I could hear the pitter patter of four feet instead of two.
I used to think that if I admitted these things out loud, that it took away from how much I love Alex and how INCREDIBLY grateful I am for him. I KNOW we are blessed. I KNOW that there are women out there who would trade places with me in a heartbeat. I am sure of this, because I was one of them. If I was reading this blog when I still didn't have a child, I would be telling the writer: you just dont' realize how blessed you are. But I DO know. But I now am giving myself permission to have the other emotions. I realize as I write this that the two things aren't mutually exclusive. I don't have to apologize for wishing I could have had more Alexs.
So, now that I have admitted the desire, I can get on to the grieving part. Because the truth is, there won't be any more Alexs. It is physically impossible now. The choice isn't even ours to make. And seeing that in black and white is a bit hard to take. Because I want it to be different. But it's our truth. And sometimes acknowledging that truth makes it easier to move on.
I don't have any answers for how to handle the grieving process over something you never had. But writing this today is a start. Just finally getting it "out there" is already a bit healing. And maybe tonight I'll spend just a few extra minutes tucking in the boy I do have.
Do you have any hidden feelings that you've been afraid to admit, even to yourself? Do you think those feelings will make you selfish or a bad person? Please know that your feelings aren't wrong. You are entitled to each and every one of them. Try today admitting something to yourself that you've been afraid to let out into the light. And if you can handle that, maybe share it with a friend who won't judge you. If you don't think your friends would understand, please pray about it. Because God already knows each thought anyway. Nothing you say will surprise Him.
Have a fantastic weekend. Love to you all.
