Dealing With The Big "I".

Infertile... Empty... Barren... Less than... Unable... Failure... I cringe at all the words. The day we received the news, it was delivered like a punch in the gut. Quickly and without a moments hesitation, I was now in the category of 'infertile'. Was this to now be my brand? My new burden? When we decided to go public with our baby dilemma, I had a few moments of panic. Will everyone now just label us as the couple who can't conceive? I know that we have amazing friends who know there is much more to us as a couple than our ability to make a baby. But there is always that little voice in the back of your head when meeting someone new... So now I just have to accept that this inability is now part of what makes us, us. This is just one more hurtle for us to jump over. This last year has been full of them. With me finishing school, passing boards, getting a new job, Terry going to school full time, me being the financial supporter, my Step Dad dying, helping my mother as a new widow... All of these things challenged us, but never broke us. So this too will be one more obstacle we can overcome.
So now I struggle with the reality of this. My personal genetic legacy is at an end. No one will ever have 'your eyes' or 'your smile'.. All of the things that people usually say when cooing over a new bundle of baby, will never be true for me. This is the mourning that I am going through. I see these genetic thumbprints in my nephews smile, and my heart hurts a little, because I will never see that kind of reflection looking back at me.    I know this is the ego talking and it will eventually come to pass. But I want to be honest and tell you all the truth of this experience and not sugar coat the matter. Time has made this a little easier to accept, but I have breakdowns. I have moments when the weight of reality becomes too much and it tears through the surface with me unable to hold it back. I have the most amazing partner in the world. He makes every effort to understand and to be supportive. Without him, I think this would have only been devastating. Instead it is now hopeful.
The thought of getting to actually experience pregnancy eases the heartache. The ability to grow a baby within yourself, to feel its movement, to supply its lifeline, to carry it to its first breath, is truly a miracle. And it is one I so desperately want to experience. Life is just that. A long line of experiences. Ones that make us grow, and change. I want this so badly to be a part of mine. It is the one thing when you grow up as a girl that is ingrained in you. Women make babies. So when you are unable to do the one thing, as a woman, you should be able to accomplish... there is a huge sense of loss and failure.
The more we inch closer to creating this baby, the more I realize that what it is made of genetically makes little to no difference. It is equal parts nature and nurture. A child is a pliable, mailable, impressionable mass that absorbs its surroundings like a sponge. Regardless of what its genetic components are, it will be part of Terry and I. We can only try our hardest at being the best possible parents and love every second of it.