Defining mother

Big developments on this end.  It seems we might have a match for a recipient family.  I wasn't looking yet, but maybe it came looking for me.

Do I believe things happen for a reason?  Sometimes.  But the phrase makes me want to scratch the speaker's eyes out.  Can I scratch out my own eyes?

There is one big factor I hadn't really considered yet.  Jay.  How will he feel about it all?  It has really thrown me for a loop.  When the embryo adoption plan was formed Jay was more of an idea than a person.  Now he is a give/take real live person.  Shouldn't the impact it could have on him be considered?  Same for Toddlerina.  Hell, hers is even more complicated.

It also sounds ridiculous.  Poor, poor you if the biggest problem you face in your young adult life is accepting full or partial brothers and sisters exist out there in the big world.  Life can throw much more gruesome problems your way.

But I initiated this so called problem.

But why did I do it?

I have to admit for me, there is nothing noble about donating embryos.  I am glad the recipient family benefits.  Of course I am.  But I am not donating to help them.  I am doing this for my embryos.  I am doing this for my unborn children.

Are those the right words?  I consider them my children.  I guess I have no blood relation to them.  You could challenge me and say they are not my children.  But they are.

So how can I let someone else raise my children?

If the other family doesn't raise them... they won't get raised.  They won't get to be here and live and breathe and be happy and sad and joyful and all the pairs of opposites you can think of.

My head is exploding.

Father, don't forget the Infertile

My church asked the mothers to stand today.  The priest called all the moms down around the altar for a special blessing.  I was sitting upstairs, but you can bet I busted my ass to get down there to be a part of it.

I included everyone in the mom's prayers.  The church's version felt a little exclusionary.  I noticed certain women who remained seated.  I made sure we were all included in the blessing with the version in my head.  

You don't need a baby in the crib to be a Momma.  You just want one.

On the way out I waited in the long line to ask Father Jack to say some special prayers for the Fertically Challenged.  He gave me an auto response affirming he would, then it seemed to click with him.  He repeated himself, saying he would pray and gave me a real promise to do so, looking me in the eye and hearing my request.

Not for the faint of heart

What does finished feel like.

I have never been good at tracking my own limits.  Binge is a verb I once knew.

When do you stop planning The Next Great Thing.

How do you recognize contentment.

Can you binge on babies.

It hurts when I start to mourn things still in progress.  I get a little teary eyed when he moves up in his diaper size.  I think about the eventual last feeding session with him and my heart seizes.  The finality of it all knocks the wind out of me.

If I master my thoughts and become present in the moment, it is clear.  Actually, it is magnificent.  I have everything I need.  We are finished.  Our family is complete.

It's just that clarity fades when I think I may never come this way again.