Yesterday I walked into the ladies’ room at work for a quick toilet break. When I walked in, there were three heavily pregnant women, rubbing their stomachs and chatting with each other.
I briefly thought it was the making of a supreme joke – “Three pregnant women were talking in the ladies’ room when…”
Then I thought – for a lot of women there’s nothing remotely funny about walking into a room and seeing that. For me it was once a sight that would see me do an about face and march straight back out of the toilet, only to go to my desk and struggle with medium to moderate waves of depression. For a lot of women, this is not a humorous joke.
I can say a lot of this with the hindsight that I have two little people. I know that, and so I want to write this one out as honestly as I can with the thoughts I had at the time. So please, please – if I say something wrong or get it out awkwardly, please don’t take offence and please understand none of this was ever my intention.
I do wish for a do-over with the twins’ early years. The parents in our adult relationship were very different people then, and I would love to go back and do some things differently. It’ll never happen and I get that.
I also know I will never get another chance to do so. There are no little babies to nestle into your neck, with that soft smell they have as they fall asleep. There are no more of those little shock movements they have as new babies, when their limbs are not under their control. There are no sleepy car rides with them dozing in their car seats, sized no bigger than acorn squash.
Those days are gone.
New days are here, bright new days with all new adventures.
But those days of a bundle nestled snugly in sheaths of blankets in the crook of my elbow…those days. Those days are not going to happen again.
And while I was in that toilet, I realized that it was ok.
It really was.
Not an inch of me in any way felt any envy or jealousy of those women and their upcoming bundles of their own. I listened in a bit, and mentally ticked off the checklist as the women first mentioned their single unborn children they were toting around, and how far along they were. One baby only in there, I thought. Tick.
For me, personally, I think that this passage of not feeling any envy or regret is not because I can’t face the IVF. It’s not because we can’t afford them or that we are too old. It’s not that quite frankly, I not only have a 50% chance of passing on a debilitating genetic disorder, but just attempting to carry a child to term would probably kill me.
It is because I know in my heart of heart of hearts that I am done. Me. Personally. I am done. And part of knowing that I am done comes from all of those factors above plus one more, and this is where I am going to tread carefully lest I in any way upset anyone – I wonder if a part of me is done because I have a son and a daughter. Boy/girl IVF twins are considered the jackpot of IVF successes, thus I have by those standards won the lottery. I have the absolute stereotypical train-loving boy and princess-loving girl. I don’t know if mothers who have a single child via IVF feel any kind of longing for having another child of the other sex – I imagine that some do, but please don’t think of this as me rubbing things in because I promise that’s not my intention.
The twins start school in September. They are brilliant children who can both exasperate and galvanize. I don’t look back at sleepless nights or days of nappy changing with anything akin to grim horror with a “I’ll never go back again!” attitude. I just know those days are past. Each step was amazing, and each step is gone. New steps forward and all. I can’t go back. I know that. I don’t know if it is this way for everyone, if every woman (fertility treatment or not) reaches a point where things are ok, or if more women than not feel a sense sadness for that one more step.
I am not gloating, and I want to make sure that this post isn’t viewed as such. I am perhaps just in a different place.
I washed my hands and watched the women chatter away, feeling the sheer amount of hormones in the room like a wave. As I walked out, I did so knowing that chapter of my life is done. Closed. Over. Many things in life bother me and trouble me still, but not this. I am 100% at peace with the twins being the only children I will ever give birth to. I wish those other women luck and happiness, and I walk out the door.
-S.
PS – I have two posts up on two sites this week – one in In the Powder Room, and one up on BlogHer (my first on BlogHer).
That must be an amazing feeling to no longer yearn for another child. I haven’t been able to get there yet, even though my body/age is telling me I need to be. Maybe someday?
Much love to you. :-)
So nice to hear. You know what? I’m in a similar situation of acceptance (but, as you know, without any sucess whatsoever). And it feels good to be in a new chapter of life. Still wish it had turned out differently but accepting the life I’m living and done with trying for babies, done with mourning the failures. Been meaning to write to catch up. But for now, hi! I’m still here, still reading, still a huge fan of you and the lemonheads.
Good post Shannon. I am quieted and calmed by your stating the acceptance of no more babies. And yes, we who have them all come to that acceptance and understanding at some point – at least I did. I loved them through all their stages (well – the teen age years for one were miserable – I don’t have any fond memories of that!) and still love them now. Then I had granddudes and once again became enamored with babies – but this time I knew what was coming and was excited but all the while I really knew to take the time I had with them. And I got every second I could – I would babysit any time for however long. That’s what you learn from the first time when your life is full of life going on. Hugs to all!
Hopefully there will be more of those joyous occasions (baby nestled in your neck, shock movements of uncontrollable limbs, and sleepy car rides) in your future…with grandchildren. And it will be glorious. Maybe not as glorious as your own kids, but still glorious.
My Angel1 is already 17. If I’m lucky, I could have grandchildren in 7 or 8 years. : ) Is Melissa 18+? She might meet Mr. Right and start a family before you know it. : )
Children & grandchildren really are a huge blessing.
*** DISCLAIMER ***
BTW, no pressure Melissa. Don’t rush anything. Take your time. No hurry. : )
I realized after I posted my comment that I sounded like a parent trying to expedite grandchildren. While I think “the more, the merrier” when it comes to kids (the Super Model Mrs. Solomon does not), I would never try to rush my kids or anyone else’ into having children too soon.
*** END OF DISCLAIMER ***
Baby snuggles are fine. But you still have several years of looking forward to two thinking and independent human beings with a voice of their own snuggling up with you and saying, “I love you Mummy (and Daddy).” You can enjoy that for a while before thinking of grandkids.
It’s nice that you’re at peace with the way things are. I’m getting there. We haven’t 100% written off trying again..but we’re close. I’m not saying never..but I’m not exactly thinking about it anytime soon either. How’s that for wishy-washy? : )
While I hit the jackpot with my daughter, things feel unfinished. They are finished, but they don’t feel that way. I never really had the overwhelming envy of pregnant women, but I haven’t lost the low key envy that’s been present since my first loss. It’s going to be there forever, I think.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever get there, but at the same time I don’t think I have the youth and enthusiasm to ever do it again. Kind of spent here and divided up as many wasy as I can handle…
g
I think the thing I miss most since moving is hugs from my baby cousin. Those were some magical freaking hugs. And I don’t like hugs, normally.
I’m glad you have some peace with where you are and what you have. I aspire to such a place. First I aspire to a baby, though. Then peace. And though you are on a
weirddifferent schedule of holidays over there, happy Mother’s Day to you. May your hugs be plentiful.I think that part of the reason ‘us chicks’ wonder about being ‘done’ or ‘not done’ is that we never ever think beyond our lives past the point of having kids. We look forward to birthdays, milestones, 16th, 18th, 21st, engagement, wedding, kids….then what?? There is no, “DONE” milestone. So we start to wonder WTH? Is this it? Should I have more? – It’s the lingering “nothingness” that makes us wonder about being done, purely for a lack of something else to look forward to (in my opinion). I mean who says, “Oooh menopause! Looking forward to that!” ?
I’ve reached the point now where I’m looking for ME again. Loving the stage my kids are at, but definitely seeking me again. An ongoing project methinks!
Quite likely, and I’m inexpressibly glad there’s no pain there for you. And I wonder if it feels more like a family with two children? I often feel like we are two adults with a child, as opposed to the 2.4-kids tv-stereotype. Which is mighty peculiar, as I grew up an only child.