16 years ago I was pregnant and being convinced I’d be a horrible mother. That it’d be selfish and childish to parent my son. One person in particular emphasized that I could always have children “of my own” later. When I was older. When I was ready. When it was socially acceptable.
Well, it’s later. I’m in my 30s. I’m married. I have an advanced degree. And I’m infertile.
Unexplained (so far) secondary infertility. I’m going through the motions of getting tests done seeing if there is rhyme or reason for my inability to conceive these last 2+ years. If there is a reason and if it’s fixed/treated with a simple pill with minimal risk maybe I’ll give it a go, but beyond that … I don’t know, I really don’t. I don’t think want to be pregnant badly enough to justify IUI or IVF or hormone injections. I do want to be a mom though.
Do I want it enough to adopt? Some people ask if they could love a child that’s not biologically theirs. I have no doubt I could. Some wonder if they could live with being not the only mom. That doesn’t phase me. What gives me pause is something else entirely. Do I want to be the reason someone else lives the birth mom rollercoaster? Could I voluntarily do this to someone else? I don’t think I could. I don’t think I could look someone in the face and ask her to give me her baby.
Maybe I’ll adopt from foster care, but it comes with its own batch of ethical issues I’ll have to wrestle with.