The road to parenthood is often long. No matter who you are or who you are married to (or whether or not you are married/partnered with anyone), getting pregnant is not a guarantee.
We live on a college campus. The other day, a student who is probably 21 or 22, walked by with her big pregnant belly. I took a deep breath as she passed, trying to stuff the envy deeper down. But I am envious. I hate it, but I am.
I have always had visions of Thanksgivings when I am 60. Our myriad of children and their significant others around the table. When I was 25, it seemed like a fact; there was no question. But life just isn’t that easy sometimes. Miscarriage happens. Negative pregnancy tests happen…and happen and happen. Adoptions fall through. Shit happens.
I try really hard not to get stuck in that place of being too aware of these challenges. I try to focus on our one amazing boy and remind myself that he is enough, regardless. It isn’t always easy, but inevitably, my boy does something that brings me back around. When he says to me, “Mama. Take this. It’s a boogie,” I do so without hesitation, because he really is the love of my life (other than S, of course) and he makes everything better. So, with or without another positive pregnancy test, I will take his boogie willingly because sometimes, that is enough.