When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Coldplay’s “Fix You”
Superbowl babies greet their parents nine months after a win. Today they showed up on TV ads in between the football plays. Mini fans are already clad in the families’ team gear.
Today, I could laugh and see these fifteen-month old faces as beautiful. My grief is loosening and my heart is adapting. My husband and I have been reading Adopting After Infertility by Patricia Irwin Johnston, and although it’s been months and we’re only a few chapters in, we both have been in awe: someone else knows. And really understands.
Six losses come with infertility. Johnston suggests taking time to individually, and disregarding physical realities, rank the losses and then rate the significance of each for one’s own life. The process typically takes a few months, and then the couple comes back together to share, dialogue, and discuss.
After our talk, my husband and I confirmed that we are in a waiting place. We’ve settled on a path, and now we try to joyfully embrace it instead of our baby or child. We’ll work with an adoption agency eventually, but for now, we reviewed the agency’s documents and took their concern seriously, as well as reviewed our own desires for how to give a kid the best shot at life. So, we’re going to wait to proceed.
I donated the diapers I bought for the baby who never came home with us this July, closed the closet on the clothes hung by month and season, and gave away the brand new stroller-carseat combo. So, my pillow has dried and my dream child fades. Husband and I don’t need fixing, but on our path, we have more time, effort, and prayers to put in before looking into the eyes of our own little fans. Hope waits.