I haven’t been blogging much lately. And I haven’t been reading many blogs either. I fell off the radar awhile back for many different reasons. I love writing. Writing is what got me through the thick of infertility. In 2007 when blogging became my outlet and a huge part of my daily life, I would often think to myself, this would be a great blog post.

Some where along the line I stopped thinking that way.

Part of me wanted to keep my parenting days private. Part of me also felt like I no longer had the right to grieve over infertility. I felt like there was a lack of material so to speak. The guts of this blog are about the struggle to become a parent. And even though I was a parent when I started this blog and Parenthood for Me, my emotions were extremely raw after dealing with infertility treatments for 4 years.

After adopting Min there remained a huge hole in my heart. I could not understand why having a family came so difficult to us. I could not accept that a pregnancy was not in the cards for me. And even though I was finally a mom, I knew I wanted more than one child. And I had no idea how that was going to happen.

Deciding to take the plunge and begin a second adoption was extremely exciting. We didn’t have the money laying around, but we found a way to finance the adoption. Once that was figured out and we were reliving the adoption process, I felt a sense of peace. We would give Min a sibling. I would be able to carry around a baby again. We would be a family of 4.

Here I am one year later and my little Wee is home. I have two boys. There are two car seats in my car. The baby is walking around the living room in his big brothers sneakers and having a blast. The two of them will fight over toys and the next minute are giggling with each other like old pals. The details I notice now that I have two kids are as minute as the details I noticed after finally becoming a mother. Sometimes I catch myself noticing the smallest event in my day regarding my kids and wonder if all parents see parenting the way I do.

Somebody once wrote to me that I have always told the truth about infertility. Adopting did not take away the pain. Being an adoptive parent did not resolve my desire to get pregnant. Infertility is a shocking, hurtful, and extremely difficult struggle. The effects are monumental and altering on one’s psyche and outlook on life, relationships, and their future.

However, I find it hard right now to write when I feel sad. Because the fact is that even though I have never been happier, I still grieve. I still feel a profound loss in my heart because I cannot get pregnant. Within the past month I have heard of 4 pregnancies that are miracles. They were unexpected and happened to women who truly believed they would never get pregnant, especially on their own. I am so happy for them. I truly am. Because no one should have to go through their entire life wondering why pregnancy wasn’t possible. But I found myself sobbing so hard one night because I cannot help but wonder if that unexpected miracle will ever happen to me.

And I really hate that I am still so unsettled . Because I surely know how much I have to be thankful for.

I find it difficult to admit that I still hurt over infertility even though I am the mom to two beautiful and wonderful children. The story of their being and their existence in my life is amazing. How we came to be a family still leaves me speechless.

Why is it so hard to let go of pregnancy for me? I ask myself that question often. Yesterday I simply said, you are just going to have to accept that being pregnant and giving birth are not part of who you are.

But my heart cannot accept it yet.

I keep revisiting a session I had with a new RE a few months ago.This was simply an informational interview. There are no scheduled procedures on the docket. She was taking my history and we talked about my ectopic pregnancy, the laparascopy I had where we found endo, and the sordid details of my (and our) infertility file.

She asked if I had every gotten pregnant on my own in the 7 years since I went off birth control.

My answer was an unequivocal, no.

Her statement is true and not altogether news to me, but they way she put it was so raw and blunt.

“You should consider your egg quality as well. You probably would have at least had a miscarriage in all that time.”

It hurt to hear that on top of male factor and PCOS that my eggs may be of poor quality as well. The chances of pregnancy are so slim. The tiniest crescent moon thin.

After 8 years of infertility talk, I still find a way to feel the smack all over again. As if it was that first visit to my then OBGYN telling me I may have PCOS and needed to see an RE. Natural conception was probably not possible.

My infertility journey is an evolution. I revel in my adoptive mom-ness, but I also grieve what I have lost as a woman, wife, and daughter. The joy and the grief have a place in my life as a parent. I know it may be hard for some to understand how I could still have so much sadness inside after adopting Min and Wee. But I have learned to not bury my feelings but to embrace them and to be honest with myself. This has allowed me to make it through this journey intact. And since parenting is a role that never ends, I supposed the questions of how I became a parent and what it took to get here will continue to be on the table for discussion.