Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Not Helpful


It really doesn't help when you call me up to remind me (like I needed reminding) of the birthday I have looming in a couple of weeks. It doesn't help when you not-so-tactfully ask me if I "ever think of having another child?" (Yes, I think about it daily/hourly/by the minute) I guess that is indicative of how out of touch you and I are emotionally. It has always been this way. You don't get me. You don't listen to what I tell you. But you sure know how to make me feel like crap. It doesn't help me when you remind me (again, as if I needed reminding!) that I am about to turn the exact age that YOU were when you conceived me by some miracle. It doesn't help me to hear you say, "Oh, keep an open mind. It could happen to you." Just because you got pregnant at 37 has NOTHING to do with my situation. Don't think I am not dreading turning this age. It will be just another marker for me to arrive at, and then pass, with yet again, no pregnancy. See, I wanted to have 2 kids by the time I was 35. I finally got pregnant at 34 and figured, well, I'd be started by 35 and that was good. Then I miscarried. But, I thought, for sure I'd get pregnant again soon, before I turned 35. 35 came and went. Much teeth-gnashing ensued because I knew this was the point at which "they" say a woman is "over-the-hill" fertility-wise. But, surely, I thought, I'd be pregnant by 36. No? Ok, somewhere in my 36th year. Nope? Kay. I'm about to turn 37 and I realize now that no amount of wishful thinking is going to make it happen. Yes, I am thankful and grateful for the son that I have. But it doesn't help me when you say things like, "Even though he didn't come from your womb....." He is mine and I am his. That is all we need to say about that. I am not going through life living some fantasy that I birthed this child. I was there when he was born. I know he didn't come out of my body. I only wish my own pitiful cage of a body could produce something so perfect, so angelic, so beautiful, so amazing. If you must know, sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him, but I digress.

No 37 is just another year I may be unsuccessful. I don't want to put any demands or goals on this year, though I know I can't help but. No, it does not help me one little bit when you urge me to keep an open mind. To think "positive". Holding out hope and thinking positive is torturous. But, of course, I can't expect you to understand.

I can't have this discussion any more. Click.


Tracy said...

I'm sorry. That's all I can think of to say. (((HUGS)))

luna said...

So not helpful at all, frenchie. sorry about your mom.

my mom can be notoriously unhelpful too. she has her shining moments, but for the most part, not so much.

Lori said...

I'm going to quote my friend Chicklet and give you a handy little word. You can use it either before or after the click.


Peeveme said...

OH wow. Sorry you have to deal with that.

I hope I don't sound like a total ass by wishing you a happy birthday.

Sarah said...

I'm new around here, but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I know those aren't the right words, but I just don't know what else there is.

Except this: I've read enough of your blog to know that you do, in fact, deserve your son. You are the a loving and devoted mother and the best mother he could have asked for. I hope you don't ever doubt that.

And, despite everything, I do hope that you have a happy birthday.