The Baby....that will never be.

In what can only be described as another life that took place many moons ago: I was young, pregnant, and freshly diagnosed with a cancer that they claimed might result in terminating my pregnancy. I made it through and gave birth to the one now known as Blonde Eyes. After her birth I went through some of the most painful treatment that even to this day in this life I have never felt anything as horrible as that day in that life.

Something in me knew that it hadn't worked. I didn't want to hear it from the doctors though. I for sure didn't want to know what other treatments they might have in store after that. So, I just stopped going, and decided that ignorance would equal bliss.

Fast forward four years and I finally return to the dating scene.  We move in together. WHAM! My soon enough to be ex-husband couldn't imagine why I was so upset. He hadn't been there. He had no idea what I went through. But, when there is a baby in the mix, one cannot stay upset for long. Soon I was shopping for all the yummy baby items that make a girl giddy. Planning out my paychecks before I had even earned them yet.

Tyler was on his way, and my new doctor whom had a ton more cooth than my previous doctor never said the word terminate. She did make sure I understood though how bad things were, and that I just couldn't ever do this again. I was dying and being pregnant was like installing an express lane.

The day that I had Tyler I also had to have my tubes tied. I was mostly ok with this. It didn't have the word FINAL blazed across it somehow. I later had yet another treatment that was equally as effective as the previous one. I was merely buying myself time. One day, seemingly out of nowhere, my body threw in it's last card on the matter. 

I sat alone in my doctors office as she told me there would be no more talking about it. My choices had all expired. I had to have everything (all my ladiness) removed. Traumatized seems to be a mild word in this case, but it will suffice. I was suddenly taken back by the FINALness that was now brazened across the subject. It was do this or die. My husband took no issue with the matter. He saw no reason for my blubbering. 

I couldn't help but think, that if our marriage didn't last....what did I have to offer someone? Two "gently" used kids...who wants that?! I was at an age where it wouldn't be that far of a stretch for a man to still be childless. On one hand I put my whole worth into some eggs I'd never get to use regardless if they were in me or not because they were going to kill me. Aside from that though, deep inside....I just wanted ONE MORE.

Then and now, all I ever hear is how lucky I am to have had the two I've got, and at least I got one of each. You don't need any more than that! Like my feelings are unjustified. Am I being selfish? Forget telling me how dumb I'm being because I already have two kids, let me mourn the kid I wanted to have.

I'm finally in a REAL relationship (with someone who only has my two, less than gently used, kids to call his own). One that makes me mourn even more for the child that I wish I could have. I think about how amazing my husband would be. He'd be so doting. He'd go to ALL of the appointments. He'd savor every kick. He'd fuss at me and tell me not to move a muscle! He'd be just absolutely ridiculous. He'd get up at night. He'd hold the little bundle in his arms and give them a bath.

He'd be perfect.

But, it's never going to happen. And I'm stuck in my insecurities. Wondering about my childrens security in a mixed family such as ours. I'm stuck having what can only be called relentless nightmares of having a baby. Waking up and wondering WHY exactly does my mind hate me so much as to feed me those kind of dreams?

I'm stuck feeling like a total selfish jerk because I have a baby knee jerk reaction. In the past I've down and out right refused to touch let alone hold someone's baby because I have felt like....*sighs* like I just...CAN'T. Holding your baby, looking at your baby, touching your baby, would only seal my fate in having yet another dream about this child that will NEVER.BE.MINE.

So, so what..?! I'm selfish. I'm emotionally compromised. I am trying really stinking hard to deal with it. There is going to be a baby that I want to look at, I will want to touch them, I will want to hold them, and I don't want that knee jerk reaction to rear it's ugly little head. And I'll have to go to bed that night and deal with it NOT.BEING.MINE. I have to get over it. But...it's hard. 

I don't want people to not be happy about such things around me. You deserve to be happy about such things. Don't tip toe around me. Just know....it's hard. It hurts. I'm scared and I'm selfish. And if the day comes....and I can't....please understand.

The baby that will never be.