Holy crap.
That was my initial reaction to all of the information I received this morning. Before I get into detail,I should probably explain what led up to this.
Throughout my life I have never,NEVER envisioned myself as a mother. My own mother was not exactly the ideal mom. Little to no affection, always critical, I struggled for a lifetime to win her approval. At 36, I still don't have it. I never will. She always made it abundantly clear she did NOT want grandchildren. Hell,she went out of her way to inform me she thought no one would ever marry me. But to her shock, someone did marry me. 9 years later we are still beyiond happy. But I will get back to that.
I certainly don't want to give the impression that I don't love my mother. I do. I just don't understand why a woman cannot, or will not, support her own flesh and blood. I am getting ahead of myself....FOCUS!
So, I have never considered myself mommy material. Even knowing how much my husband wanted a baby, I was still ambivalent. I know what's in my gene pool. I know what kind of mother I had and what kind of father I had. That's not to say we didn't try. We tried and tried. It never happened. I thought it was fate,telling me I wasn't meant to be a mother. Finally,we get the news I deep down didn't want to hear,if only for my husband's broken heart: we would never have children of our own.
Wow. Just typing that feels like a spear in my heart. I promised myself that if I started a blog I would be completely honest. Part of me was and still is relieved; a large part of me is devastated. I think most of my agony is for my husband. Knowing how much he wanted his own. I don't think he has fully come to terms with it.How can you?
We had always discussed the possibility of infertility,especially after years of no success. We decided we would foster children...and hopefully be able to adopt one day. After setting up an appointment to speak to a family specialist, I realized certain memebers of our family would have to be told. My husband told his family members (those that needed to be told) and I have to say they were very receptive and positive...which was awesome.I only needed to tell 2 people-my mother and my brother. I figured it would go relatively smoothly. Yeah.....not.
When I think of exceptionally hard times in my life,I think of my father's death. My struggle with depression. Being unable to conceive. Feeling like a failure. I can add telling my mother about my infertility to that list. I truthfully don't know what she was more resistant to, never being a grandmother (by blood,anyway) or our becoming foster parents. Either way,as I told her,in tears,how much I wanted her,needed her to accept this, I could feel her opposition like a brick wall I was hurling myself against. Here I am, a grown woman,still wanting her mommy..for comfort,support...hell, even a hug would have sufficed. Oh well. People in hell want ice water,right?
Our appointment was this morning. Amber gave us a ton of info.So much that it was a bit overwhelming. She left us with a folder an inch thick with forms to fill out. It is reassuring to know the state won't just hand kids over to any schmuck that comes along. Our classes start on August 1st. I'm nervous but excited. I know we will excel at being parents. I also know that I need to put my mother behind me. Once I have a child in my care,that child is my top priority. I need to finally free myself of the stranglehold. It is never going to change. Only I can change.
Here's to change!
