The love of a pregnancy ...

Last Friday [Aug 18] I had been talking with a very special friend of mine who was a week away from the due date of her third child. It was an innocent conversation of uncomfortableness and some minor complications the night before. The pregnancy hasn't been the best cup of tea every day ... but then what pregnancy is? I won't let in on any of the specifics to respect her and her family's privacy. Nonetheless, I hung up the phone and shed a few tears. Selfishly, the tears weren't for her but for me.

I wasn't unloading my emotions. Just a sadness that crept in causing a few tears. It took me back to my previous pregnancies. Specifically the first. It made me realize how much I miss being pregnant. How much I dreamed of being pregnant - even with all the difficulties that can happen. Anticipating labour and going to the hospital. Delivering a miracle. It made me really think again about what I don't get.

Growing up I had always dreamed of my family. Having children in my life was expected. Both adopted and biological. People, specifically young women, tend to take pregnancy for granted. "I'll have x number children, x number of years apart and I'll be x years old when I start my family." I'll admit it, I did that too. I said I'd have biological children then adopted children ... and here I am. I'm either only having adopted children or I'm reversing my planned process. We'll see what God's plan is. Either way, pregnancy wasn't as easy as I always expected it to be. Not very many women grow up saying "if I can have children I will have x number yadda yadda yadda". Nor do they plan what doctors are the best for this avenue or that avenue; what agencies they'll use if adoption is the only option; which social worker is more available and supportive. It's not something you talk over with your girlfriends during coffee at your local cafe ... until it's a requirement. You don't plan these steps way ahead of time "just in case". Could you imagine the time and heartaches that would have been saved if you did?

I was watching season six of Sex and the City this past weekend. Yes I know, it's not the most favourable thing aired on television, but so much of it is reality. [That statement sounds so contradicting.] Anyway, Charlotte was a woman who optimistically dreamed of the perfect everything. And she perfectly planned for everything. The perfect boyfriend, the perfect engagement, the perfect wedding, the very perfect home, the perfect pregnancy followed by the perfect family. But what Charlotte didn't know ahead of time was she couldn't get pregnant. She tried many different ways to get pregnant. She paid the fortune that most can't afford to obtain, what was for her, the impossible.

In one episode I was put off by a one liner she said to her husband. Something about her having put them on a list for a baby from China. Like it's that simple. But as the episodes had moved on, she became divorced, lonely, dating, and eventually remarried. Charlotte got angry, as I once did, when she heard her friend was pregnant and was considering aborting it because it wasn't convenient. [She changed her mind!] Charlotte even became unexpectedly pregnant in her second marriage after some acupuncture and herbal stuff. But she miscarried. Sex and the City was the first tv series to ever depict even closely to what some of us go through. Depression. The tears. Not leaving the couch as you just stare. Missing your friend's child's first birthday party because you just can't bring yourself to it. Then finding the strength to get off your butt and take control of your life again.

Then the steps of adoption. Charlotte and her husband correctly showed the reality again. All the paper work. He's a lawyer finding an overload of paperwork! That says something right there. The best line was something like with all the unwanted children in the world why is there so much paper work? They even had parents that chose them and then changed their mind, deciding to keep the baby. The anger and frustration. The tears. Charlotte would just run with all her might trying to get her frustration out of her. Even then, everywhere she turned was people with babies. Strollers. Children. She cries one day to a complete stranger about how even though you are uable to perform perfectly, you still deserve to be loved. Finally, you see the joy as they receive a referral for their daughter from China. And as she looked at the photo, she knew it was the one. The one God has sent them. Yes, I bawled! One day that will be me.

At the same time as missing the actual pregnancy, I am still expecting. My baby is being born somewhere else with the help and love of another person. This baby will help complete my family. This baby will bring me the greatest joy I can imagine. And as a special bonus, Lyle and I are perhaps "saving" this child from another life. And that is a gift we can give a birth mother who dreams of a different life than what she has to offer a child she loves.

The loss of a pregnancy ... of your baby ... isn't something you ever forget. The same way you never forget the birth of your child. You forget the physical pain [although you always hold it over your child's head explaining just how many hours of labour it was] and move on, but you never forget the event. And the memories can creep up on you when you least expect it. These memories remind me of what I miss. Then I remind myself of my future. My future with my husband and our children. My family is coming.