I had one of those weekends that digs deep beneath the facade of your life, and rips from it (sometimes painfully) the truth of who you really are. There’s this thing that I’ve been rolling around in my brain for a while now, at first it began as a this little niggling that has grown into something much more. I cart it around like a dirty secret, guarding it from everyone, terrified to share it…but I need to share it. So here it is…my deep, dark confession early on a Monday: I don’t know if I want kids anymore.
Do you know what Mr. Big said when I told him? Yes, I feel that way too.
Here we were, carting around this scary, debilitating secret – privately, but in tandem – and we didn’t even know the other was having the same scary thoughts.
We spent Sunday morning in bed, wrapped in each others arms, having one of those heart to hearts that define your relationship. In the end, we determined 3 very important things:
- We still love kids. We LOVE kids. If kids came easy to us, we’d have
a hundredat least four by now.
- But they don’t come easy to us, and this path – the one we are currently down while we TTC – is not only something we actually don’t want, but it feels very wrong for us. We both dread it in the way you dread a colonscopy.
- We would rather be a kick ass Aunt and Uncle, happily married, dedicated volunteers of many causes, dog parents, musicians, and productive members of society than go through what we will need to go through to become parents.
So where does this leave us? I don’t actually know. Mr. Big doesn’t know either. I guess that’s kind of how life works, isn’t it? All of us in this together, not really knowing. I can finally say I actually understand those bloggers who choose to pull the plug on conventional treatments, and just let whatever is going to happen, happen. I am there, now. Totally there. It doesn’t mean I don’t still hope for a miracle, that we will conceive, and everything will be ok. It doesn’t mean the idea of living out our life childless doesn’t fill me with sadness right now. It just means that we won’t, we cannot, commit to this life any more. Those of you who are deeper and further into it than me are amazing – and you deserve every thing you work and pray and hope for – because this shit is hard. Harder than anything I have ever been through – and for us, it is too hard to continue.
I’m not sure how, or what, we will tell our families. I feel the need to tell them something – perhaps just that we’ve decided to stop treatment and let life happen? I don’t know yet. I just know I can’t do this anymore, and neither can he.
For more on #microblogmonday, please see Mel’s blog Stirrup Queens.