I have a pretty amazing life, really I do. It's the kind of life where I wake up in the morning, open up my Gospel Library app on my phone, read a few versus of the good word, roll over on to the floor and say a heart-felt, generally not particularly rushed, good morning prayer. After that stuff I look at my calendar, see what the day has in store, and then as long as I show up to the right place at the right time, or call the person who needs to be called, or make what needs to be made, all the while giving as much possible attention to the two boys who make my world go round, I deem it a pretty perfect day. Nothing too incredibly pressing, never anything too dramatic, always lots of fort-building type activities and always a lot a lot a lot of apples and peanut butter. I drop Collin off at work with a kiss and a hug, and if ever he's too rushed or heaven forbid I'm not in the mood, Nolan yells "HUG" and "TISS" at the top of his lungs until the three of us have sufficiently squozen and smooched each other, which I know is essential to Nolan being able to call his day a success. We greet our daddy at the end of the day with everything the song was made of, always including but never limited to a hug around the neck, a kiss on the cheek, and some definite knee-climbing. Dinner is usually simple, delicious, and full of "today this happened" and "let's please don't spit our food out" and plenty of toddler burps (maybe my favorite and least favorite thing at the exact same time). Then it's bath time with daddy and kitchen clean up time for this girl, and then we usually top our day off with some sort of screen time before we sing a stirring rendition of 'Book of Mormon Stories' which naturally leads to reading said stories, and then it's prayers, a book, sometimes a song, and goodnight. It wouldn't be for everybody, but for me it's a pretty perfect life.
And believe it or not, that entire paragraph up there ^^ was a precursor to a whole horrific account of how despite my perfectly happy life I still long for what I can't have…which is a tale as old as time and generally includes bigger houses or skinner thighs or all expenses paid vacations or maybe shopping sprees. But for me, all the bedrooms in the world, all the legs for days and sandy beaches and every stitch of clothing in the world is not what I long for. For me….it's babies. Plain and simple. A house full of children to chase and tickle and kiss and love. That's what I want. And that's what I can't have. Or at least, not yet. And you know what, it's not because we haven't tried, because dear sweet heavens have we ever tried.
There was this one time, earlier this year, when we thought we had been chosen by a birth mother so I called up our local theater and told them "I can not thank you enough for offering me a role in the upcoming show Les Mis (my favorite, and a dream come true!) but I can not accept, because a birth mom has chosen to place her baby with us during the time the show is running". The director was SO thrilled for us, and so understanding and it was all lovely. Then, a short while later, we found out the birth mother picked a different family instead.
***THIS IS IMPORTANT*** I feel 100% confident that that baby boy was not ours and that the sweet birth mother made the right choice and that baby boy will go to the perfect family for him. I am not devastated, heartbroken, angry, resentful, hurt, nor do I feel betrayed, letdown or lied to.
But we did get to add one more event to our list that we call 'Ways We've Tried To Have A Baby That Have Failed'. Then there are fertility treatments, those money sucking, body mutilating, marriage testing treatments, in which I turn into somebody I'm not, all the while Collin wonders where his wife has gone, Nolan thinks Mommy has lost her mind, and I can see all of it unfolding right before my eyes with limited to no ability to stop. the. crying. And all of these treatments are dependent on so many things that are out of our control, the least of which is a demanding work schedule, the most of which is, well, our bodies. It's a lot, this whole wanting to have a baby and not being able to thing. A really lot.
And on the days when I see a newborn baby, or (and especially) on the days when it's so blasted obvious that Nolan could SOOOO benefit from a sibling (we're talking only-child spoils, and limited ability based on limited necessity to share, and most of all this thing I've never seen in a child his age where he sees a baby and can't help but gravitate towards it, this kid LOVES babies) it hurts my heart beyond belief that I can't just ask Collin to come home early from work one day and then walllahhh, 9 months later gift Nolan with the sibling of his dreams. And then, beyond (and way less important) than all that, is the fact that we went a little overboard when we moved out of the city and purchased a home for 3 that was intended for 10 and all day long I'm walking past empty bedrooms and lonely cribs and little tiny baby blankets that are just sitting there…waiting. I think it was yesterday that I said to my love, in a moment of frustration and slight rage, "why do we even waste the money to live in this house if we only need 2 bedrooms? Let's just move!"…which was clearly a rational thought because in the middle of a mini-breakdown that is mostly hormone induced and doesn't have a clear end in sight, moving is definitely the answer, the perfect answer.
Anyways, despite all this negative rambling and (as I'm sure I'll discover when I read this in a week) ample over-sharing, there is a point to this…story? Is this a story? I don't know…but the point, the point is this….we are trying, my goodness are we ever trying. We are trying to do things right, not just baby stuff but all this life stuff…we're just, trying to get it right. We're trying to make the best decisions. We're trying to teach Nolan the best stuff. We're trying to be thankful for what we have and not sad for what we don't have. And by George, we are trying to have a baby. I think we'll have one, though I'm not 100% certain, and I think it will be a girl, though I'm way less than 100% certain, and I think Nolan and she won't be 10 years apart, though right now that wouldn't surprise me.
BUT, with all of this trying and failing and this overwhelming uncertainty, a few things have become increasingly clear to me. If we never have another child, (particularly a tiny little girl in the next year or so, like I'm dreaming of) we will be okay. We will make it out of this roller coaster called life, okay. If Nolan Smith is the only child I ever have, I will never feel cheated or robbed or like my life as a mother was wasted because being a mom to this miracle boy of mine IS ENOUGH. It is more than enough. This little almost 3 year old was the last piece to my puzzle, the one who made me "Mommy", the one who taught me more in 2 years than anything I learned in college. And if he's the only child we ever get to do life with, that is okay. More than okay, really. Because when I think about his story, and Makenzie, and the people that love him, and the way he holds my hand, and the way he dances when a record comes on, and the way he runs to me after a nap, and the mischievous smile in his eyes, it's okay, it's all okay, every single thing…is okay.
But….we're still going to keep trying.
^^^Photos from a family fishing trip we took a few weekends back. I thought documenting the day my heart exploded from the cuteness that is a little boy + a homemade fishing pole was a decent idea.
