Okay, I'm going to be honest here. I would LOVE to be pregnant. Love it so much that we're actually going in to see a fertility specialist for a consult in a few weeks. Love it so much that when I do have several days of weird twinges or cravings or nausea or hot flashes, yes, I do pee on a freaking stick to test. Love it so much that I dream about it and fantasize about it and wish for it.
And yet, sometimes I really hope that I never become pregnant.
"Just adopt and you'll get pregnant!"
I don't want to prove them right.
"Just adopt and you'll get pregnant" is the most annoyingly absurd statement. I heard it while trying to conceive, I heard it after our infertility diagnosis, and I heard it all throughout our first adoption.
"I know a couple who tried for years and then they finally adopted, and THEN they got pregnant and finally had their own baby!"
"I keep reading about people who can't get pregnant until they adopt a baby and then they're finally relaxed enough that they do get pregnant!"
"Just watch, as soon as you have that baby home from Ethiopia you'll find yourself pregnant!"
Did not happen.
In fact, given our state of affairs right after P's adoption (my post adoption depression, his PTSD and attachment disorder, the language barrier and adjustment and physical delays that ruled our life, etc) I can guarantee you that I, in fact, did NOT want to get pregnant then.
In fact, it wasn't until recently that I finally came to a place where I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted to make sure that P had a sibling who looked like him before I would even consider having a child who did not, leaving him the only person of color in our family (and yes, he does notice race).
But all this? Is beside the point.
Because I'm here to bust a myth.
The myth isn't actually "just adopt and you'll get pregnant." If it was, that would be an easy one to bust. There have been studies on this "phenomenon" and those studies have shown that there's no increase in pregnancy rate after adoption than there is before it. It's all luck and timing and coincidence.
But anyway, I'm not touching something to easy to disprove.
The myth I would like to bust is this:
"The most affective fertility treatment is an adopted child."
There, I said it.
That's the gist of "just adopt and you'll get pregnant" isn't it? That the child you adopt is nothing more than a means to an end? Not really a human being, a beloved child, but instead a useful fertility treatment? That this child isn't really a child at all, but an "adopted child," a faux child, a person you bring into your life for the sole purpose of creating your "own" child?
So, lemme let you in on a little secret here:
My kids are my kids.
They are real. They are human. They are my own.
They have my mannerisms and speech inflections, as well as Nik's. They call me mom. They love me, and I them.
And they are not a fertility treatment, nor a means to an end.
They ARE and end.
Both of my children are a happy ending. Both are a dream come true, a real, true dream realized in flesh. Both are the loves of my life.
And if I were to become pregnant right now?
What a blessing that would be!
But it would not be a greater, nor lesser, blessing than having them in my life.
I can guarantee you that I did not adopt our children because I thought they would lead to me having a different child, "my own child," nor would any sane person attempt such a thing. They are in my life because I wanted them in my life, because Nik and I filled out paperwork and payed gobs of money and traveled distances, one time across the world, to have them in our lives.
We have fought for them, waited for them, cried over them, worked our asses off for them, and that's all before we even knew they existed. Since homecoming I cannot count the number of kisses and hugs and bedtime stories and boo-boos and popsicles and walks around the block and pushes on the swing and cuddles, oh the cuddles, seemingly endless. And the counseling sessions and school drop offs and diaper changes and doctor's visits and rushing to the ER... these are not things you do with a "thing," with a treatment, but with a real, live, beloved human being.
In case I haven't gotten my point across yet, let me go ahead and summarize:
My children are my children. Not my fertility treatment. Not a lucky charm. They are real and human and wonderful beyond measure and should we be lucky enough to experience a pregnancy and birth at this point I will thank my lucky stars, not for ONE happy ending, but for THREE incredible, indescribable, breathtakingly beautiful happy endings.
Lily in a loafing barn
1 year ago