Pages

5.23.2017

The Baby Bug

Recently I have found myself surrounded by lots of new babies and expecting mommas.  And it's been fun to get to snuggle all these new babies and smell their little heads.  But somehow, even without ovaries, I've been bitten by the baby bug.  Don't ask me how.  I thought post-menopausal women were supposed to be immune.  Apparently not.  Live and learn.  I've spent these last few days desperately missing Patrick, and I know that has a lot to do with why I'm feeling this need for a baby.  I also know that if I sit down and think about things logically, it doesn't really make sense to have a baby.  I'm currently off work on disability, and Phil is at his limit on caregiving right now.  Mira is finally reaching the stage where she is almost helpful.  To suddenly add 18 years to our day-to-day parenting at this point doesn't sound terribly exciting.

I mean, even assuming I could get Phil and me on the same page to agree to another child, then what?  How would we acquire said child?  Our house is never clean enough to pass a foster care or adoption review.  My baby factory is gone.  That leaves using a gestational carrier with an egg donor.  Not an inexpensive scenario.  But hey, I'm just throwing things out there.  Let's assume we made a GoFundMe page and people were nice and funded this endeavor of ours.  Then what?  We'd have the stress of getting the carrier pregnant and going through all the IVF stuff.  Assuming we were successful and got a child, then there's the up late at night and all of that good stressful newborn stuff.
Still, on the flip side, there's getting to see them grow and learn and do all the cute silly things they do that make all of it worth it.  The hugs.  The "I love yous."  A sibling for Mira.  And all of these are good and wonderful things.  And maybe they could override my concerns about being a good caregiver.  And maybe we could do it.  But part of me knows this bug bite is just a partial urge to replace what I lost.  Not that I could ever replace Patrick, but I lost my baby.  I lost the opportunity to see him grow up.  I want that.  But even more, I want Mira to have a sibling.  I want that for her, and I know she wants that very much.  And if I can give that to her, I mean if I have the capacity to even try, isn't it worth it?  Wouldn't you do anything for your kids?

 I don't know the answer.  There isn't a good answer.  There sure as heck isn't a right answer.  There's just me and Phil.  Muddling through.  Together.  Talking.  About where we are.  What we want.  How we feel.  Respecting each other.  Just getting by.  One day at a time.  Maybe we'll do it.  Maybe we won't.  I haven't written this to change Phil's mind.  Rather, my friend reminded me that I use writing to pull my thoughts together.  It's more about figuring out where I am--the answer to which is all over the place.  But at least I have a better handle on the underlying currents that seems to be feeding the bug.  And that's a good start.

No comments:

Post a Comment