:to cherish a desire with anticipation
:to want something to happen or be true
:to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment
:to expect with confidence
Hope. What a loaded word on this journey of loss, infertility and adoption waiting. Hope is something that I have been struggling with lately, because to be completely honest, I’m starting to lose it. I have spent seven years hoping for something that has yet to happen and I am exhausted. I am worn out, defeated, discouraged and hopeless. Unfortunately, wanting something to happen or be true never guarantees you’re going to get it.
Seven years is a long time guys. Seven years of hope and excitement and optimism, mixed in with despair, bitterness, depression and anger. So many emotions are constantly at war inside me and I find it hard to maintain a good balance. I don’t want to be a quitter, I don’t want to give up, especially on something that I have wanted for as long as I can remember. But I’m not sure how much longer I can go on in this ever constant limbo of waiting. I thought trying on our own was stressful and a rollercoaster until we started fertility treatments. Then I thought fertility treatments were overwhelming and now I am experiencing the excruciating wait of adoption. I’m not comparing them really, because you can’t. Each part of my journey has had it’s ups and downs and every part has been hard.
But this waiting for a match, waiting for someone to choose us, is hard on a whole new level.
Because I am constantly hoping that it will happen at any moment. Every time I check my email and see that I have new mail, a tiny little part of me thinks it will be from one of our agencies. Every time my phone rings and I don’t recognize the number, I think it might be a potential match. Every time I try to make plans or think of our future, I can’t help but wonder if we will have a baby then. Because it could happen fast. If everything went smoothly and we were matched today, we could technically be bringing our child home in a month. A month. Our lives could change that fast.
Some days I feel so sure that of course it will happen and of course we will get our happy ending. And other days I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of the fact that it may never happen and we might have to adjust to living just the two of us. Now before you start to hate on me, I am perfectly aware that there are worse things in life than not having a child and being able to spend the rest of my days with the love of my life. But right now, in this moment, it feels like the end of the world.
No baby = my worst fear.
I then spiral into a mess of frantic thoughts about how I have no purpose or meaning and am going nowhere. I’ve only ever wanted to be a mom and I have spent seven years filling the time just waiting for the moment when our child enters our life. But what if that moment never comes? Then what? And if that moment is never going to come, wouldn’t it be better to just give up and start trying to come to terms with the fact that it is just us two. Maybe I should stop putting off the inevitable and start the grieving process.
But then a very small glimmer of hope sparks somewhere deep inside of me. Maybe all this waiting will end with a baby. Maybe we will be chosen and I will say this was all worth it. Maybe I need to keep fighting for this thing I want so badly. Maybe I need to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfilment.
Because guys, while I feel my hope dwindling and my mind leading us to the point of maybe stopping this crazy journey, I’m not there yet. Just like when we were doing fertility treatments and we could sense we were at the end of our ropes, we didn’t stop until we were absolutely sure. I knew we were done and so we made that decision to stop. In this waiting game of adoption, even though I am totally toying with the idea of giving up, I’m not quite to the point of being ready to say enough is enough.
So for now, we will keep on hoping and we will keep on waiting. If you are feeling similarly to me right now, no matter what you’re waiting for, know that you are not alone. I’m right there with you.
Jenn, The Canadian Housewife