As for my infertility, I prayed, I tried to talk with doctors, I cried, I railed at God! My whole life I had wanted babies!
I wanted my belly to swell, ‘big with child.’ To feel a life inside me moving, to go through labor and delivery, to bring forth a life to suckle at my breast was all I ever had wanted.
Over time I became resentful of pregnant women. Even with my best friends, I could hardly stand to be near pregnant women. I distanced myself from what I could not have.
I was talking with a couple of friends one day when they both began talking about ‘End Times for Christians.” I had never heard of such a thing. They explained that the godless heathens would take over the world and Christians would be put to the knife.
Christian children would be wrenched from their parents to be raised in a world without God. And women who had adopted would not feel the same gut-wrenching pain of the women who had birthed their children. (This happened right after we applied to adopt.)
I stood and in real anger told them they had no right to make sweeping generalizations about adoptive parents. Two of my cousins were adopted and they were as loved as those of us who were born into the family. And I knew in my heart that any child I adopted would be as much loved and cherished as one I had bore. After all, I loved their children as much as I loved my niece and nephew. I had spent more time with their children than I had with my niece and nephew. How dare they?
It took time to heal our disagreement. It was one of those two women who found our daughter, Selene, for us.
I was told by ‘a well-meaning Christian man’ that I was praying for the wrong thing. Huh? Please explain. I am praying to be blessed with a child. You think I should be praying for God to give me another dog or cat?
After Selene came to us, I still felt like other women saw me as a second-class mother; especially when I pulled out a bottle to feed her. They would gasp and turn away, “She’s not nursing.” We tried, I just wasn’t producing milk.
I still couldn’t stand pregnant women. When my sister, Debbie, was pregnant with both her daughters, I kept my distance. I just couldn’t bear to be near her. After the babies were born, it was another story.
When Selene became pregnant with Lennon I wanted to experience her pregnancy with her. But my depression got in the way; as well as her pregnancy hormones. She and my cousin Nancy are the only pregnant women I have ever felt comfortable around.
So, that’s my story. The real lesson I want my readers to learn is this: If a teenage girl is complaining of horrible cramps have her examined by a doctor. Endometriosis is most treatable in its early stages. Don’t let another woman go through the emotional trauma and physical pain of infertility.