How did we get here?

Our wedding on Mustang Island = The Best Day Ever!

Shawn and I have been married for about two and a half years, and have decided we wanted to start a family.  About a year ago I went off the pill hoping to make that happen.  Unfortunately, it hasn't been all that easy, no thanks to polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS).  I rarely, if at all ovulate, which is kind of important when your trying to have a baby!

We haven't gotten very far into the whole fertility treatment process.  I've tried drugs like Metformin and Prometrium, neither of which did anything but turned me into a crazy person!  (You can ask me my husband!)  My obgyn says I can start chlomid once I have lost 30lbs, so instead I gained 15 more!  My weight has ALWAYS been an issue and is standing in the way of me being able to get pregnant...at least one of the reasons.  You'd think that would be all the motivation one needs to make some major changes.  But what I have come to realize about compulsive overeaters, like myself, is that food is an addiction that is hard to kick.  Choosing to give up certain foods or lifestyles, is like breaking up with a boyfriend.  There is a period of grief you experience that almost breaks you.  It is your safe haven when times are stressful.  It's the one thing that will always make you happy, if only for a few minutes.  Yeah...in case you didn't notice I have some serious issues with food, but I digress!

Back to the adoption...

This whole process has caused me to really contemplate the true meaning of motherhood.  For so long, it meant carrying a baby inside me, feeling it kick, rushing to the hospital because it was time, and bringing a new life into this world.  If that is motherhood...what does it mean for those who may never experience those things?  Would that make us any less mothers?  Yet it is a crushing blow every time you pee on a stick and see nothing.  You hold the pregnancy test in the light and out of the light.  You hold it far away and up close.  You tilt it this way and that...hoping that somewhere behind that glossy window a faint line is struggling to be seen.  In two to three minutes you are defeated.  You are unable to do the one thing you, as a woman, are supposed to be able to do...make a baby.

What do you do with that?  What does it mean?

What I have come to realize is that it doesn't mean anything.  Don't get me wrong delivering a baby and holding it for the first time is a magical moment that I will always long for, but is it something I need?  Those are dreams I am beginning to let go of, because as I begin to redefine motherhood those things are not important.  A mother is someone who loves her child with every ounce of her being...I can do that.  They soothe and comfort owies and broken hearts...I can do that.  They are your biggest fan...I can be that.  They pick you up when you fall down, brush you off, and send you on your way again...I can do that.  They teach how to be the best human being you can possibly be...I can do that.   None of these things require pushing a baby out your body, but rather they require a choice to accept the role.
As we've begun this process, I see there are children all around me who need someone to accept the call to motherhood on their behalf.  I can be that person for a child whose birthmother could not.

So, here we are...

Waiting...

Waiting for that call that will change our lives forever.