I wish that everyone would keep their opinions to themselves, unless I ask. I love my son. I love him more than I love my own life, but I wish that I could have another child to love as well. I want to be able to name her and to watch her grow up from birth. I want to witness her birth. I say her, because I hope to be able to name her a special name.
I don't feel like that is a possibility anymore. I feel like Patrick may have been my only baby to raise. I am so excited to adopt and foster other children, but I wish I had known that Patrick was my last infant. I tried to live it up as much as possible, but maybe I would have been able to prep myself a little more. Even if I get pregnant, it will not be with the man I love! It wilł come from a tube with some strangers donation.
I have been struggling with a lot of things lately, but I think that the root of it all is my grief with infertility. Why? I know that everyone thinks that about their own life, and now it is my turn again. I want to build my family. I want to be able to give Patrick a sibling. I want to provide that, but I can't. So give him dolls to take care of and a dog to teach him patience, friends to play with and argue with, but I feel like I am falling short in being able to provide him with a full family. I šhouldnt have kids just for Patrick, but I want them. I want to be a mom of many in my home. I'm like a mother at school and can influence kids and I do love them as my own, but I don't get to take them home, tuck them in, give them a bubble bath and watch them grow into teenagers, parents and aunts and uncles.
I'm not in a good place now. I need to accept it and feel it, then maybe it will lessen.
