Moving on to adoption does not mean I’m over the pregnancies or over the fact that I may never “grow a baby in my tummy”. I’m constantly haunted by numbers, days, dates and months.
This week, for example, is the anniversary of my first loss. Connected to that pregnancy, I also have my due date (March 14th), the number of weeks pregnant I was (9), the age I was when I got pregnant (35) and the age of the babies of my friends who shared my due date (3 months and counting – this is a whole other heartbreaking story).
Multiply that by three pregnancies and my head is swimming with dates and numbers.
October, 6 weeks, December 14, June 29, 36 years old, 2 months, April 18th, January 19, 7 weeks, 37 years old, June 9th, June 14th, 38 years old, 9 weeks, 14 weeks (and counting), 3 months before I can try again, who know how long until I get the clinic referral, a minimum of 18 months if the adoption goes through, 39 years old. This list does not include the days of tracking cycles and ovulations!
It’s no small wonder that I had to second-guess my own age at my last doctor’s appointment! I’ve been so used to calculating how old I was and how old I will be when/if the baby comes that the present seems completely irrelevant!
I will never “get over” the losses. They are a part of me whether I like it or not.
The prospect of adoption is allowing me to at least move forward. Maybe all of this pain will be worth it. I know have a hope-filled focus, a tangible way to have a family, forms to fill out, projects to work on and bananas to bake. It’s not a replacement, but it’s positive and it helps.
I recommend the book “Adopting After Infertility” by Patricia Irwin Johnston to anyone moving from (or even straddling) one step to the next.
This book was recommended to me by a friend in a similar situation and also by a pregnancy loss/infertility counsellor. It definitely provides some food for thought; in particular, “the list” of what is being lost.