After the first few years of infertility you no longer get a punch in the gut when you see a baby – you learn over time to gird yourself for the inevitable heartache of smelling that newborn scent. If you get really good you develop intricate ways to never even be around when a new baby comes a-visitin’.
I am so blessed to have my own beautiful baby now. I now routinely browse Aellyn’s infant pictures and revel in the wonder of her and of my luck. Normally I can keep any thoughts of infertility deep inside – down in there where I’m subconsciously worried about breastfeeding Aellyn vs. giving my Snowflakes a chance to come home. On the best day it is like it never happened.
So, I was really caught off guard when my coworker brought in his 4 week old. She was so beautiful. Small and delicious smelling. I held her. She was warm and whimpered in her sleep. Perfect. His older children where there too – a 4 year old boy and a 2 year old girl. He, his wife, and three beautiful children.
I didn’t want to feel a sharp stab of jealousy. I cried a little. I hope it came off as baby-loving, sappy chick. When I got home and told DH it really hit. The tears just flowed.
I love my baby. I’m beyond happy to have her. Being remotely dissatisfied feels horribly wrong. What type of person is given a gift like Aellyn and dares to want more? But, no. I refuse to pile guilt onto my feelings. Feelings only compound when you deny them. I’m blessed to have a baby. I know that. But, I’ll always be infertile. I’ll never be the mom talking about how to space my children to minimize sibling rivalry. I’ll never have to weigh the pros and cons of adding a 3rd child. I’ll always pine for, not only another baby, but for the loss of the effortless family building that others enjoy.
You know what though? I held a perfect child in my arms today instead of running and hidding.
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