raw and real

I usually try to stay away from posts like the one I am about to write.  I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want people to know these feelings that I have or if I feel like if I put on the face of all togetherness that it will really be that way.  But I’m tired of keeping these things in and I want to get them out.  And I need validation, so that’s why I’m putting it here. 

Infertility sucks.  99% of the time I am at peace with my infertility.  I am okay with never being pregnant.  I know, without a doubt, that Lincoln was meant for our family and had I gotten pregnant when I wanted to, I don’t know that he would have made it to our family.  I am grateful for a Heavenly Father who has a bigger plan than I do and leads me in the direction I need to go.  That being said, sometimes I absolutely despise that so many people have to be involved in our decision to have a baby.  I want another baby so badly it hurts most days.  I get through it, though, a day at a time.  Until days like last week happen when our adoption profile was pulled off the internet and my ability to handle another child was questioned due to the anxiety that I have battled for 13 years by someone whose approval we need in order to adopt our next baby, someone who doesn’t hardly know me at all.  It was the biggest slap in the face, like my infertility was in my face saying, “Ha, ha, I’m still here.  Remember me?”  Because if I wasn’t infertile, this person would have no business in our decision to add a child to our family.  Some small part of me tries to not be mad or upset and just let it roll off my back, but the bigger part of me wants to scream and throw the biggest tantrum.  Our profile is back up and the issue has been settled.  But that doesn’t get rid of the feeling of being personally attacked and criticized.  And I’m having a hard time getting over it.  Dan put it very well here:

“ I'm angry or frustrated  at the fact that the decisions of how I grow my family aren't just between Ashley and me. So many other people have to be involved: the man that says "Hmm, you might be infertile," or the guy that said "Why don't you bring me some of your sperm in a cup so I can look at it," or the guy that says "here's a chart for your wife to mark her temperature on in conjunction with the days you have sex" so he can look at it and make fun of us, or the door-to-door saleswoman that asks why we don't have kids and we tell her we're infertile so she suggests to us that we should adopt like we've never thought of that before (it's a long story), or the agency that has to check our house for stuff that kills babies and make sure that we haven't laid any of it out on the floor, or the bishop that thinks we're unworthy to raise children because we admitted to him that nine 5 & 6  year old kids are stressful...there are more, but you get my point. I'm really okay with complaining (obviously). Sometimes I just get a little overwhelmed and jealous of Cletus and Brandine (not specific people) down the street that get drunk on tequila one night and have a kid 9 months later. Even though they live off the government, the little money they earn buys meth ingredients, they beat their kids, and she's pregnant again, NOBODY told them they weren't allowed to have a kid. WHY DO I HAVE TO BE TOLD THAT?!”

So there is my tantrum.  I love my little family and I love that I have the opportunity to be a part of the adoption world.  But infertility still hurts.