The Pains of Infertility

When my husband and I discovered that our insurance covers fertility testing, we immediately went to a fertility center in order to have his little swimmers studied. We discovered that his little men were dead. We don't know if it is because of the medication he is taking or his weight or what, but all we know is right now it would take something akin to a miraculous act for me to get pregnant at this stage, which is actually cool right now since we are newly married and do not need any children at this point in our relationship. However, a few years down the road, this is going to really hurt. Right now, I am hurting. I see all these girls at work who are pregnant, having babies, bringing their babies in to visit. Usually, I am satisfied with holding a baby or babysitting a toddler once in a blue moon at the moment, but what about later in life I wonder.

 The husband says we can adopt, and I totally plan on doing that. We are going to become foster parents so we can figure out what age we want and how old we want to go. Plus, it is easier to adopt the child once you have had them in your home to foster them. That might be a good thing, but at the same time I want to have my own child ya know? The husband and I rather not spend thousands of dollars on fertility treatments that I may or may not be able to carry to full term. It would be better for us just to spend the money on adopting a child. What pisses me off about this the most is how some of my co-workers reacted when I told them about my husband's condition. I think the exact words were "Why did you saddle yourself with a man who can't give you children? Don't you want your own mini-me?" that someone had the audacity to say to me. I kept my cool long enough to walk away to do my round. I shut myself in the room with someone that wasn't really all there, but I cried and put my head on her shoulder while she hugged me and comforted me, even though she had no idea who I was or where she was, because I was one of her "grandbabies" and I was crying. It really hurts that someone would say that to me about a man I love and care for with all my heart and soul. I married him because I love him, for better or worse. It does not mean something like this would matter.

Someone also told me that you do not love an adopted child as much as you would love a child that came from your own body and union. Why not? How can you know how you would feel about a child if you never had your own? I know plenty of people who adopted after only having one child or two and love the child as if they are their own kid. One of my girlfriends and I were sitting at a park on day and she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "I never knew our family wasn't complete until we brought him home."

Yet with all this certainty over adopting, and how I will love this child as much as I could possibly love my own, I know that years down the road, I will look at my husband and my children, and wonder if I ever made some sort of mistake choosing not to spend the money on fertility treatments. Would my life be any different if I had my own child or would it be the same? Would my husband and I be any better off? Would we be able to function without having children? One of my husband's dreams is to come home to me having the house taken care of with all the children settled and ready for him to tell him what they did that day. My dream is to be that mother to the teenage boy that has a large group of guy around, ready to do anything I need to get things done and take care of things that I may or may not be capable of doing. You know those moms. You have seen them. The one where all the boys call her mom and respect her and stuff. Yea. Want that. Bad. '

We can wait. I know we can. My husband needs to finish with his school, our debts need to get paid down enough so we do not have to worry about making it pay check to pay check, and possibly a bigger house so I can use all of my kitchen gadgets without having to put everything away to use one crock pot. All I need to do is give it time.

Pom-Pom Problems

I am absolutely frustrated beyond measure. This has been one of the most awful things I have ever tried to do. I took it upon myself to make a Jayne Cobb hat. It is something that I have been wanting to do since I have watched the TV show and people have been making requests for me to make them. I thought it would be easy, so I looked up the pattern and proceeded to try to follow the directions to try to make one. The first one was absolutely dreadful from trying to wrap it around my fingers and doing what they told me to do. I could not keep it from unwinding and I could not figure out how to make it go POOF and not limp on the top of the hat. So, off to youtube I went. There were so many that DID NOT help me at all what so ever. I tried. I really tried. I was literally almost in tears about the time I got through watching four videos and found out they part I had been missing. Finally, I get through the part I need to get through, start some cutting...and it was not long enough. I started spewing forth British profanity slang and threw all of it down, so it looked like this in the end.

I am waiting for my mother on this one or till I go to my local yarn group to make one. I will also be buying a actual plastic pom pom maker for myself before then as well. I hate when I get like this. I suppose I shall get back to making more little hats for things and for get the pom poms till another day.