Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Thought Jumbles and Babies

I think this is going to be an odd post, but I have some feelings I think I need to work through and I have decided to do it here, where I keep real records of things I can look back on and show my babies one day. And that's where the problem lies. Oh, babies. They're so sweet and tiny and they smell so good  and wear the cutest little clothes. Newborn poops don't even smell. They're like dolls only perfect and 1000 times better. By the time Evie was Andrew's age (he'll be 2 NEXT WEEK) she already had a little brother. Of course I'm going to spend ample time discussing the amazing little angel that is my Andrew come next week, but today my thoughts are on my other babies.

Other babies, you say? Yeah, it doesn't work for everyone, but for me, the 3 embryos we have in storage are my babies. We've picked out another couple to adopt them, and I'm happy with that choice. We haven't actually signed the papers because they have to be notarized and it's almost actually impossible to get to the notary together with my husband. That's happening tomorrow. And that's it. Once those papers are in the mail, those babies belong to someone else. I'm happy that we chose a semi-open adoption. That I can have pictures and things of them, and send letters. But it's still so hard. What if they look just like my kids? What will I tell my kids? What will Troy and Nicole tell theirs? The thing is, I don't want them to think they were unwanted, because they weren't. They were oh so wanted, and Andy and I promised ourselves we'd give every single one of them a chance. I was stoked to have 3 because I thought the chances would be that 1 wouldn't work, and I was ok with 2 or 3 kids. Then Andrew happened by extraordinarily happy surprise, and it turned out that my body couldn't do it. Let me say now that I wouldn't change anything. None of it. My children are perfect. At least to me. But I still need to give those other 3 a chance, and I know T & N are going to be amazing parents. I just don't want those kids to think we gave them up because we wanted to. And honestly, it eats at me sometimes. In a different way, certainly, than people who give up newborns. But they're still a part of us. They're still going to look like us and have full-fledged siblings they don't know. I'd love for them to meet, but I don't know how T & N will feel. I just hope they pass on our love. And the fact that none of this was by choice.

The truth is, I'm not sure I'm ready to be done having kids. When we went to Philly to see my new niece, it sort of had the opposite effect that I wanted. I figured I'd go to sleep and every time I got up to pee, I'd hear a screaming baby. But Alicia and TJ were really on top of it, and there was only 1 time she cried and cried, and you know what I was thinking? I miss that. Am I crazy? Probably. It's almost like I forget my own kids being that size. I know they were. They were actually both a pound or more smaller than Hope, and she's a little nugget! I remember holding Andrew in my hands and being shocked out how tiny his little head was. I remember a newborn Evie sleeping on my chest. But it's all so far away it feels like a dream. Could my Evie really have been THAT small? It seems impossible, though I know it wasn't. And I touched Hope's hair and it felt like velvet and her cheeks were so soft. And part of me wants that again. I set this arbitrary "35" cut-off for having kids, and I just turned 35. There's still time. And you know what the most ridiculous part is? I miss the feeling of wondering if this could be the month. Even though it never was while we were trying. But the month with Andrew... when I started to notice little things. The anticipation in the minute before the line appeared on that test. The complete whirlwind of trying to figure out how to be a functional person with horrible morning sickness and just the knowledge of a new little person! Would it be a boy or a girl? Was it OK in there? What did it look like? When was my due date?

I know, deep down, on the surface, and I feel in my bones that I can't have another baby. My body couldn't take it. Stupid things like "Well after you get your transplant..." pop into my head and I squash them. Andy has NO interest in another baby. In all honesty, kids are hard, and we're finally starting to get some sort of structure back into our lives. Evie and Andrew sleep. Andrew sleeps like an angel, tbh, and I know if we had another kid it just wouldn't happen. Evie is such a delight. She's so funny and sweet. I love it when she does things like walk out the door saying "Bye Marshall! Bye Chase (Paw Patrol)! Love you!" And then takes my hand with a "Come on, mommy". Andrew is the sweetest boy on earth. He's so happy and he loves loves loves to cuddle. Our third kid would probably hate me lol. I couldn't handle it.  I know those are dumb excuses. But, we DO need to find time to spend helping Andrew and we barely have that, and I can't do anything else to infringe upon that. He needs us to help and support him.

Oh yeah, and I'd die. That's probably an important factor. I'd die and leave both my children motherless, my husband a single dad of two kids... yeah. No. I don't want that.

I think for the next couple years, until I'm at an age where it would be socially super weird to have kids, it'll always be in the back of my mind. But at least for now I have my sweet niece to cuddle, and pretty soon my friend's baby. Heck maybe my brother will have one one day. And I can continue to sleep at night, and think about the amazing adventures I can take my kids on now that they're walking and doing cool stuff. I have to put my trust in people I don't know to take care of my embryos, but I'm doing it. I trust them. I have so many feels for these people and what they're doing. I just want to hug them and tell them they mean the world to me. Even if I don't get to raise these kids, I know they're somewhere they'll be happy with parents who will rejoice over them. It's the right thing to do all around. But I still miss snuggling my own sleepy newborns.