What if they’re right? What if I’m not capable of being the mother everyone else thinks I can? What if the state is seeing things in the right angle and everyone else has their rose colored glasses on?
Society has placed this high demand on women to reproduce. As if it is our main purpose in life. I don’t buy that crap. As much as I would love to reproduce I wasn’t put on this earth to do so. I firmly believe I was put on this earth to love the “unlovable.” People like me who had to fight just to be loved. Who were never accepted. People who have hidden scars and are too afraid to show them because they are so scared of what society is going to say. Which is why I’ve focused on fostering to adopt.
I once told my husband to leave me. Actually not once. Multiple times through our marriage for the sole purpose that I could not give him a family. The day the doctor told me, “You will never have children,” my heart shattered. To this day I hurt for my husband who wants a daughter to princess-ize. A son to build vehicles with. I’ve told him to leave because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. And yet he stayed.
Then we decided to adopt. It is our only option. I can’t have kids. I could keep trying. It’s not like I can’t get pregnant. But, they never want to seem to stay. So, adoption was the only option. The option we felt strongly about. The option we felt God was moving us toward. The option where the doors seem to still be open. But, is it?
I feel like I’m unraveling. He lies next to me cuddled under the blanket. I’ve stared at him for the last hour before finally picking up my computer. This man. The man who through everything has stood beside me. The vows we said ringing in my head. The adoption was to have a family of our own. And yet, the crib sits empty as we try to get past the licensing. Questions rise. How sorry of a woman am I if not only can I not birth him a child, I can’t even pay someone to give me one? Should I have asked for surrogacy? Should I have begged him to go? Should I have begged him to stay? Will he leave if this option doesn’t pan out?
My whole world sits on the desk of a therapist who called me crazy and another who thought I was so unstable she wanted to heavily medicate me. I should have better faith in God. But, I can’t breathe. My crib is empty. My arms are empty. My womb is empty. Lord, this option has my heart. I’ll have nothing left.