A Two Year Cycle

My husband surprised me tonight.  Nonchalantly, while I was sitting on the floor in front of the tub watching Luke play in the tub, he says, "Luke isn't the youngest grandchild anymore."  My stomach knots.

"What?"

"Luke isn't the youngest grandchild anymore."

He really said what I thought he said.

(Deep breath)

I expected this sooner or later (preferably later).  I'd thought recently (or rather bet to myself) that DH's brother & sister-in-law would probably get pregnant again soon ... another "oops" baby.  Like they don't know where babies come from.

I just sit on the floor beside the tub and breathe in and out.  I concentrate on controlling my breathing.  My throat constricts.  I can't explain the feeling, but I think my chest hurts.  Somewhere in the middle I feel a numbing sensation.  It gets hard to breathe.  My eyes get moist.  It's hard to swallow.

I was just here two years ago.  Two years exactly today.  Experiencing these feelings, only much, much worse.

Two years ago, I'd been blindsided by this same news at my in-laws house by my BIL.  I will never forget that day.  Ever.  The happiness I felt for a new baby, (a gift from God), was eclipsed by anger, bitterness & disappointment.  And rage.  Lots of rage.

I remembered that day this evening as I sat in front of the tub.  There has been so much that has happened the last two years, most importantly the birth of and adoption of Luke.  He has filled up most of my brokenness, but that hurt and ache is still there.  It ebbs and flows.

DH tells me to be happy.  "You'll love the new baby," he says.  "Luke will have fun playing with his new niece or nephew."  I ask him if he's really happy or if he feels a little hurt or sad.  He admits that he feels a little sad.  He didn't know the announcement was coming either.  His admission reassures me to know that I'm not blowing things out of proportion ... that we share the same feelings, the same pain, the same desire to easily grow our family biologically.

I am mad at myself.  If my husband would have married anyone else, he would reproduce like jackrabbits.  That's how DH's family is ... super fertile.  Not me.  I am the broken one.

I shouldn't feel sorry for myself.  I've got a blessed life.  I truly do.  If my body wasn't broken, I wouldn't have my Lukie, and I wouldn't trade him for all the fertility in the world.  But it is so gosh darn hard sometimes to shove the hurt, sadness & disappointment of just wanting to be "normal" and being able to grow your family "easily" back down and swallow it again.

It's hard to think about seeing a pregnant belly in the house again at holiday time (SIL is due in Dec).  My nephew just turned 1 in Feb & by March they are pregnant again.  (I really need to quit doing the math.  It doesn't help.)

I guess I just wish it were that easy.  To just have sex and know that you actually have a chance to have a baby.  To actually co-create a baby with God.  I, personally, don't equate sex with babies.  At all.  They are two unrelated events.  That part of my life isn't the norm.

I suppose if I had one leg, I wouldn't have a normal life either.  But I think I'd still be a little upset at how easy the people with two legs have it.  I'd miss my leg.

I guess what I want to say is that I'm feeling hurt and sadness.  I want to have that option of surprising grandparents and my husband.  The grass is always greener, eh?

I need to quit whining & get my big girl pants back on ... but I wanted to write my feelings down too.  There are so many of you who still long to be moms for the first time or moms to babies here on earth.  I've got nothing to complain about compared to that.