Public expectations and such.

Unless you've been living in a cave, you've probably heard by now that Prince William and Princess Kate are expecting their first baby, and that Princess Kate is in the hospital being treated for a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum (HG).  HG, as you may or may not already know, is essentially severe morning sickness.  Not to lighten the severity of the condition in any way, shape, or form, because it is serious business; we're talking dehydration and malnutrition, neither of which are good things for a growing fetus, as well as misery for the expectant Mom.  On a personal note, I had "pretty bad" morning sickness when I was pregnant with DS.  I was nauseated 24/7 for the first four or five months or so and was subject to the involuntary and abrupt emptying of my GI contents on a moment's notice or less.  And even though I actually lost 15 pounds during the first trimester because of that, I was able to stay hydrated and nourished, and able to continue working and taking care of the dogs and the house for the most part during that time.  It went away for me by the second half of my pregnancy and everything turned out fine.  But that was just "pretty bad" morning sickness, which I'd imagine is about 1/1000th of what it's like to have HG.  My heart goes out to her and to all women who are dealing with or have dealt with HG.

This news, however, brings up a topic that I felt like writing about today.  It's something I've dealt with for so long on my own, because it's just one of those things people don't talk about.  And if you've never had the misfortune of dealing with infertility or pregnancy loss, I'm only guessing that it's something that would never even cross your mind.  But if you have, you know where I'm going with this when I say that it's still hard to hear about "public pregnancies".  It's a sore subject, so bear with me here while I try to do a little advocacy.

In case you didn't already know, women (and probably men, too, but since I'm speaking from my own heart here, I can only represent the ladies) who are dealing with these kinds of issues can tend to be a little . . . sensitive.  Obviously, we know that most women in the world are NOT infertile and have no issues reproducing whatsoever, so we know we can't get away from hearing about other people's pregnancies and newborns and kids and all that.  And don't get me wrong, because in our hearts we truly are happy for those people and wish them nothing but the best.  It's just that jealousy can be a difficult thing to manage sometimes.  Infertility is unfair.  Being women, we're prone to constantly double- and triple-think things through anyway, but believe me when I say the "Why not me?" path is a bitch to have to deal with.  It's hard, and it hurts, to admit that there is nothing at all we can do to change our bodies and the way they're functioning (or in this case, dysfunctioning).  And although we know "the world" doesn't mean it that way, sometimes it feels like "the world" is rubbing our noses in the fact that we can't perform the one physical accomplishment that differentiates females from males.

(Don't get me started on "16 and Pregnant" or "Teen Mom"!!)

I struggled down the "Why not me?" path for a long, long time.  I can talk about it now, because I'm not on that path anymore; oh, sometimes it will come up as a fleeting thought, usually as a result of hearing something on the news or reading something in the paper and usually something far removed from my personal life, but it's not crippling anymore.  I know now that it's not because of me or who I am or what I've done in my past -- it's just biology.  "Shit happens" is a less eloquent way to put it, but still gets the point across.  Besides, I know now that I have other redeeming qualities that far overshadow the fact that I can't physically reproduce anymore.

When I heard on the news this morning about Princess Kate, I didn't feel an iota of "Why not me?" -- but this topic came to mind because I was thinking about all the other women out there who aren't past that stage yet, whose hearts are hurting with the news of this very public event for any of a wide variety of reasons.  I've been there.  I can relate.  But I can also testify that it is possible to get "over" that, to work through it and reach a point where you can accept that you don't meet certain "standards" (for lack of a better word), but that doesn't mean you're any less important or less valuable to the world.

And also, since I've brought up the topic of infertility, I can't neglect to mention that not all adoptive families choose adoption because of infertility.  There are many reasons people choose to adopt.  Infertility might be one of the most common reasons (but don't hold me to that, because I haven't researched it or anything) but it is by far NOT the only reason.  Adoption is nothing if not an act of love -- pure, unselfish, unadulterated, inexplicable love.  It is doing something solely for the benefit of the most innocent and helpless among us.  It's hard to define a "reason" to adopt (or to bless a child with an adoptive family) because it's so much more than that.  It's not really something you "decide" to do -- it's more of a calling.  I didn't realize how true that is until we became more involved in the process, and I wish that other people would realize it, too.

On that note, I feel like I've gone off on about fifty different tangents here, so I'll wrap it up and get back to thinking about pre-Christmas-decorating-house-cleaning on my unexpected day off.  Love and peace to you and yours!!