my obsession

For years, I’ve been trying to build the family I took for granted I’d have by now.  Years.

I succeeded on the one hand – my “enough” baby, the 3 year old that I consider a miracle, an amazing stroke of luck.

It is hard to swallow that I am done.  I think about it every day.  I’ve done consults, and all the doctors think, in their supreme self-confidence, that they can help me.  I don’t know that I believe them anymore.  The truth is, spending another dime to have another failure, or worse at this point, another brutal miscarriage, makes me sick to my stomach.  Literally nauseated.

As much as I want another, I can’t seem to force my way (figuratively and literally) into more treatment.  Yes, there’s a new study about linings, and they’re getting quicker at genetic analyses.  Is it enough to put myself through one more minute of treatment?

I need to switch gears.  I need to focus on what I have.  I need to obsess about my daughter’s education, home, and emotional well-being.  I’m trying to figure out how.  How to make space in my heart to let go of what I wanted.  It’s not easy, but then I get excited about maybe setting up a mini-home preschool.  And about silly dance classes or piano lessons.

I try every day to appreciate what I have, but maybe trying isn’t enough.  Somehow I have to shut the door on fertility and open wide the door to parenting the child I fought so hard to get.  Don’t get me wrong, I parent her everyday, but maybe I can do better.


~ by Larisa on March 24, 2011.

5 Responses to “my obsession”

  1. Oh sweetie, I can identify so much with some of what you’ve said. I am not fully where you are – where the Suck of another try outweighs the desire for another, but are still both really strong – but for me, it’s about equal right now.

    I think, for me, acceptance is really hard because I feel powerless. And when I feel powerless, I FIGHT it. I research, I plan, I try to find a way around it. I try to FIX it.

    I wish I had the words to help you accept and move on. I HAVE to think that the feelings, over time, WILL lessen, and eventually you won’t think of it all the time. And then maybe not every day.

    I don’t think that you should feel guilty for feeling how you do, though. It’s OKAY that you’re grieving AND parenting BabyHope. It’s okay not to be okay.



  2. I cannot tell you how glad I am to read this post. I knew I would start to read these words from you, at least, I hoped it.

    I wouldn’t say that you have to let go of your dream for a bigger family and clear it out of your heart. I just see that you are no longer allowing it to be your “obsession,” as you called it. Only that it will not consume you as it may have in the past.

    It was so many years of winding up that dream and pulling it so tight into you. I think these things take their sweet time for unraveling.

    Be gentle with yourself. Infertility or not, we could all maybe do a little better at parenting. We are all trying to figure out how. You are one of the best mothers I know. No doubt, she is going to bloom from your raising.

  3. I so get this. It’s why I play the lottery week after week, hoping to have the bucks to have another one. Every sniffle and cough and loose poop give me way too much anxiety that I’ll loose the one chick i have, and I don’t have a spare baby to love and kiss and cuddle. I so hate the saying, “God answers all prayers, sometimes the answer is NO”.

    the powerball is up over a 100 mil.
    what more can either one of us do?

  4. I remember that feeling of being grateful for the one you have, but still wanting another. It is so hard! I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I’m hoping and praying that you will find peace…somehow and in some way…soon!

  5. I don’t know. My current point of view is that we’ve made it past primary IF by having our girl Linnea. But parenting her is not a ‘cure’ for the hurt caused by the second round with IF.

    At whichever point I decide to draw the line and give up, I will always regret not having a second child. I’m sure it won’t consume all my days, but even when years have gone by, I’m sure there will still be moments of regret.

    And that’s ok.

    That said, I understand your desire to limit the impact of the hurt on your life, and in particular on your parenting.

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