A month ago I wrote a post about the perils of infertility. I received positive feedback from others who faced a similar emotional story. The touchy subject was pushed aside as I dealt with other stressful situations. Last week a friend brought her adorable baby into the office. I held the soft skinned baby in my arms. A small gurgle came from the sweet infant. Without an inkling suffocated feelings suddenly become spry once more. The rest of the day a heaviness seeped in and dark clouds hovered above me.
The past few weeks have been filled with turmoil. My stepson has been flippant with me and my husband. At fifteen he seems to be mirroring his father's youthful years. He is dating someone who is older and informing people he is 'engaged.' I'm sure readers, you can understand the anxiety and concern. When confronted he threatened to never visit his biological father again.
Friday both stepchildren were supposed to come home for the weekend. Only my stepdaughter arrived. While red face with anger, the impact of his absence is felt. Without my stepson at home it feels as though part of the foundation of our family is missing. The teenage years I detest with a high degree. When the frustration boils over I'm a bit relived to have to deal with it only for a few more years. Imagine conceiving and have the torture years yet to come.
The mood swings over the past few weeks have been sullen and irritable. Money worries and unruly children certainly were poured in the mess. One minute I want to escape to New York away from all the problems. Then I realize that wouldn't set a good example for my troubled stepson. Besides soon both children will be adults and my husband and I can move wherever we want. If there was a baby it would be more difficult to pick up and go.
My stepdaughter, husband and I went to a street party where I grew up. Women with huge pregnant tummies waddled up and down the street. Strollers whizzed by with tiny creatures sleeping in them. I held back tears that welled up. I longed for my own pastel colored stroller to push and a small being to belong to me.
We then went to a concert that was put on by my alma mater. It was located in the park by my former high school. Kids screamed and threw fits around the park. Mothers and fathers yelled at the offspring to knock it off. On blankets couples snuggled and drank tea and chilled wine. The brisk air smelled of apples, hot popcorn and dried leaves. The mood was interrupted by a random wail or pouting. In my head I was thankful my stepchildren were no longer that small. However, the occasional fit or shrieking does come from the them at times. For the most part when the bad behavior erupts it is nice knowing they go back to their biological mother. If there was a baby it would be with us 24/7.
Over the past year I have gained weight. I have been trying to eat better and do Zumba again. The weight won't shed. I think if I became pregnant that would be extra pounds to lose. However with pregnancy there is a baby as a reward.
In my own way I try to rationalize and make myself feel better for the dream unrealized. I try to focus on the other wishes such as writing for a living or taking a trip somewhere tropical. I no longer have grad school to keep myself busy. I make up new distractions to keep the eyes from the blinding truth. Glasses of wine or yelling at my husband certainly has its advantages and disadvantages. The frantic up and downs, back and forth and constant reasoning make me dizzy. It just goes with the territory of dealing with infertility I guess. All these unique emotions I have grown to understand and to expect, while I'm not expecting.