A dose of reality

I do this every time. Whenever I get to a point where I think a cycle might actually work and we are at a place where we cannot back out (such as after transfer), I have moments when I have thought such as: Am I ready for this?; Am I ready to give up my freedom, my sleep, my hours of quality time with Brad?; What if I'm not a good mom?; GOOD GOD this is a 20 year plus commitment!; What if I don't like his or her spouse?!

Just last night as I went to bed - completely exhausted - I thought about how cool it would be to have a baby. Then I thought about how cool it is to know with a fair amount of certainty that my night will be undisturbed. It's funny how when I feel like my life is going to change I suddenly become nostalgic for my current life. The current life I couldn't wait to get rid of a few days ago.

Does anyone else do this? It seems so crazy. Still, I have done this many times when I was at a hopeful point in a cycle. I have come to recognize it as "just the way I am" and I tell myself I will cope just fine and I have no doubts that I really want this and then I forget about it.

Today was another such moment, but it had a new twist. I was making one of my favorite breakfasts - a peanut butter, banana and rice milk shake. It occurred to me that since so many people seem to have peanut allergies, maybe I should stop eating peanut butter so often - maybe it would be best for the embryos. I am used to having these types of thoughts too because some part of my still thinks that Ernest's birth defects may have been due to something I did or something I consumed. I quiet those thoughts just like I do my fear thoughts about being a mom - I put some logic to it and let it go. I told myself that some peanut butter couldn't be all that harmful - people do much worse things that that. Besides, Brad's family doesn't have any peanut allergies. My family doesn't have any peanut allergies.

And then it hit me.

It's not about my family not having peanut allergies. It's about whether or not Belinda's family has peanut allergies.

"So this is what it feels like, " I thought to myself. I'm not sure what "this" is though. Or I am not sure I can explain it. It was not a welcome feeling. I would have done fine having never been in a situation where I felt it, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. It was a bit of a sad feeling, mixed with a little bit of fear and no small part surprise and realization at how frequently those other genes may pop into my life. Yet, I felt ok about it. When I told a friend about it later, it hit me harder. I held back tears. At that moment I think it was more about feeling like a failure because I was unable to produce some healthy eggs than it was about dealing with the issues of using donated gametes. It's funny how your state of mind can influence the emotions you feel around the same event.

Later I had a similar situation arise and got another response. This afternoon, as I guiltily had my third square of very dark chocolate (I have been trying to cut back in case this cycle works), I thought about how Belinda doesn't like chocolate. I laughed to myself and thought, "Ha! I will show her! I will teach these babies to like chocolate before they are even born!" In my head, it was a friendly sort of competition - light hearted and fun - perhaps proof that I was coping well.

I almost called Belinda to tell her - to laugh about it together. But then like a good dream that starts to seem to be about more than just the images, I wondered where this came from and where it might lead if I keep having these thoughts. I don't want to always be in competition with Belinda for our child's behaviors and interests. I absolutely don't like the image of me coercing our child to be more like me - especially in order to be less like her. Which seems especially funny because I picked Belinda precisely because she seemed a lot like me. Am I going to tease out the differences so I can label every attribute "from me" or "from Brad" or "from Belinda"?

Maybe I think too much. Perhaps it is healthy to occasionally feel a competition with Belinda as long as it stays light hearted. Perhaps it is even better to accept those feelings as part of this process and not worry about forcing them to go away or reading too much into them.

I want to continue to be aware of these feelings. I want to keep an eye on them - hopefully a gentle, non-judgmental eye - so that they don't become a subliminal message either to me or a child that I need proof that our child really is ours.