Not counting on anything
One of the things I wanted to talk about briefly is how I feel about this whole IVF thing. I’m new to the blogging world and I’ve lately read a lot of posts about the pain and waiting with infertility. And I think a lot of aspects are familiar to me, although I think I’m maybe coming from a slightly different place, and I wanted to explore what that means…
There… I said it. I’m not ashamed of it at all – as a kid I always thought this meant I was special and chosen, until my dad debunked the theory! – I just didn’t really want to write it as I don’t want a million things pointing to the fact that it’s me writing this. Why’s that? I guess I haven’t really talked openly to my friends and family about the fact that we’re doing IVF. Again not because I’m ashamed of it – I’m sure they would be thrilled to know that we are doing this – but because I don’t want that pressure of having to give an update all the time on where we are at with it and whether it’s been successful. I suppose I want not to have to tell anyone until/when/if we have good news and I don’t want to have to go around a whole heap of people and explain that it didn’t work. (Here’s hoping that isn’t necessary.)
So what does it mean, being adopted and being in this position?
It means for me that I am actually #2 in a line of women who had to deal with the pain of infertility. Actually in my family’s case it had a happy ending (not to put in too many identifiers but they adopted due to long term infertility and then managed to have a biological child… It’s a familiar story apparently). We’re all happy and I think I’m moderately well adjusted (hee hee). I don’t have a massive hang up about being adopted – I think I’m fortunate. And I don’t think that my parents don’t love me or any of that nonsense. Pretty sure they made more of an effort to have me than most people do!
It means I don’t think that adoption is a poor second best. I know I have a very nice family and I wouldn’t have them any other way! I was taken from a situation where I probably wouldn’t have survived very well and I’ve had a privileged life. I’m close to my siblings. I’m close to my parents. I look at my family and they’re just as familyish as any other family. Half the time I forget I’m adopted and most of the time I’m quite happy to talk about it / I’m proud of it.
It means that I’ve never known anyone I’m biologically related to. This is the biggy. I think maybe this is where I have that – possibly out of proportion – yearning to have someone in my life who looks like me. I’ve never ever had that thing where you take for granted that you “take after” your mum or your dad. They are both fantastic people but I wouldn’t say I’m very similar to either of them. My biologically-born sibling is the spit of my dad and there’s something comforting about that, I think. Also, being a different race to the majority of people around me, I think it would mean a lot to any offspring of mine that they had a parent who looked like them – I know that’s something I missed when I was growing up. I always look at other mixed race couples and their babies and think “Ours might look a bit like theirs”.
It means I don’t think I am the best person to adopt. I don’t want to have to explore all my thoughts and feelings about adoption. I know from friends who’ve adopted that it’s a pretty harrowing process with extensive psychological profiling and matching. Whilst I’m well adjusted (so I like to think) and I’m pretty resilient, I think there are a lot of adopted people who don’t want to have to go through all that emotional stuff. I know that the adoption process is different in the UK (I was adopted overseas where there were minimal restrictions) and you are also unlikely to get a baby, so you are taking on responsibility for a person who has a history, and that is a really big responsibility. I guess I feel like as a person who was adopted, I want others who are adopted to have that same grounding and “borrowed history” that I had, if at all possible, and I can’t give them that. They would only be able to go one generation back. And I’ve really benefited from having my family with its history and culture and relations. But honestly? I don’t know if I’d be up to it.
How I feel today
As The Count would say… ONE… ah hah hah! TWO… ah hah hah! I had my follicles counted yesterday (how’s that for a chat up line?) and it looks like my down regulation is how it’s meant to be. So we’re moving on to the next stage of the process. The way I see it? I’m just taking it one step at a time. I’m not thinking too far into the future. I’m not imagining little babies that look a bit like me and a bit like T. (Okay, maybe once in a while, but I don’t think I can really imagine them… That’s too weird!) I’m concentrating on being happy with the parts of my life I can control (an awesome caring partner, a slightly less caring but still very awesome pet, and more awesome friends and family) and trying not to think too hard about the parts I can’t control (work, and horrible people and infertility). I’m lucky! I’ve always been lucky. You don’t get plucked out of one life and given another without being fairly well acquainted with chance.
We’ll take this one step at a time. I’m not counting on anything… I’m just counting the steps till we get to where we end up.