It’s been months since I’ve blogged or read other blogs, I kind of feel like I’m cheating somehow by writing and not actually participating in the community. I guess the reason for it is because there is no-one left in my blog community who is still childless, I am surrounded only by women who are much braver than I, women who could see this thing through to it’s happy ending.
It’s not so much that we are out of options, there are still options for us at the fertility clinic/casino and at the adoption agency. The fertility clinic/casino options involve us putting a lot more money on the table, and in return the croupier is kindly going to up the odds for us. The adoption agency options involve us being a little less specific about what we want. And we could do all those things, we could very simply find a way, that’s how we’ve tackled the last 6 years. And still… we could be here in 6 years time, same place, same feeling.
At first adoption felt so different, it was really a different kind of hope. But you know, it’s just a somewhat different kind of casino in many ways, and the pain is the same. I found a beautiful and very honest portrait of adoption online a few days ago, and there was one story that brought tears to my eyes. As adoption stories usually do of course. But this is not a happy ending story, this is about the cold, hard reality of people who haven’t had their miracle. This is the story you never usually hear, the not-so-feel-good story that can’t ever make the headlines. It has to be one of the bravest stories I’ve ever heard in my life, I recommend you give it a read.
And there are many of those kinds of stories in this community, the stories that just finally fall silent. Bloggers who stop writing because there is no progress report to give when you stop planning your trips to the casinos.
As jaded as I sound right now, we still haven’t come to any hard and fast conclusions. Where we are at is simply that we are not putting our money away for fertility treatment or adoption anymore. Last week we had a joint fortieth birthday party, and I have to say it was a novel experience, putting down some cash and actually having a positive experience and happy memory to look back on! It’s something that has almost started to feel wrong to me, like everything we do has just become about hope. And that’s why I was so determined to have a great party and break the thought pattern a little. There was no need for hope, we organised it, invited lots of amazing people who we love to have around us, and enjoyed ourselves. It was a predictable outcome.
I’m looking for that now a little more. We haven’t closed the door on the adoption just yet, and as a result of course, there isn’t a day that doesn’t go by when we don’t hope we will get that “you’ve won the jackpot” phonecall. But I’m starting to lurk in different online communities too. I’ve found an amazing community of women who have managed to build lives for themselves after infertility – without children. They even have Christmas parties together! I guess you could say I’m just starting look at option Number Three as an actual option as opposed to completely out of the question. The most appealing aspect of that option is just simply the absence of that four letter word – hope. It’s replaced by reality and facts, and a way forward.