Pillow Talk

The house was still; the neighborhood dark. It was that intimate calm before rhythmic breathing. Ben whispered, "Do you ever wish we could make our own baby?"

I quietly replied, "No."

"Really?"

"It honestly doesn't bother me that I can't get pregnant."

"I don't necessarily mean the pregnant part...it's more the planning. When I look at Ty I don't wish he had my genes...it's not about that...but in a few months, wouldn't it be nice if we could talk about trying for another and it could happen...just like that."

"Yes..."

It's been awhile since I've thought about infertility and how much it blows. Ben and I love being parents. I mean LOVE it. I don't know what parenthood is like on the other side, but on the adoption side, nothing is taken for granted. Ty brings us immeasurable amounts of joy and has brought so much life to our home and family. I love how his presence has changed me.

I would never have labeled myself a patient person before, but when it comes to being a mom, I have an unending supply. I love the teacher I've become and the softness I hear in my voice. Life is no longer about me and Ben and living for us. It's completely family-focused.

We were out to lunch the other day, just the three of us, and I had one of those moments. A moment where your life is so full you feel you might burst. I looked at Ben and said, "I love this." With knowing eyes, he answered, "me too."

During one of our home study interviews our case worker asked us why we wanted to be parents and she later told us our response was not typical. I'm sure the usual includes, "we're ready to start a family" or "it's time to take the next step." Our answer? We've learned to love each other more than we love ourselves and what we share is too good not to pour into someone else. It would be a waste. A waste of passion...for God, life, and each other.

We find ourselves in the same situation again. The family we've become is too great to stop here. We want to expand our tent pegs and open our hearts to all that God has for us. We want more. And I hope you hear the cry of my heart. We don't simply want more kids. We want more life. God is changing us. Stretching us. Growing us. And we want more.

That's all great to feel...but then reality sets in. We don't have another 20+ grand to spend on adoption. We also lack the energy needed to throw into this complicated process, again. And the crazy part of all my mush-mashed feelings is that I feel guilty. I feel guilty for wanting another baby, because it makes me feel greedy. How screwed up is that? What woman outside of these infertility shoes feels guilty about wanting a larger family?

It makes me mad.

Ben and I talked about how many of our friends planned (or didn't plan) for their families. And whether or not life went according to their plan, they still had babies...one right after another. No big thing. It's natural. It's what people do.

Well, except for our kind of people.

We desperately want to give Ty a brother. But, to do that it will take a whole different kind of planning.

I know I'm whining, but sometimes I just want that easy button. I want a friend to call us who knows of someone that knows of someone that is looking for adoptive parents. No agency. No chaos. Less money. We know those chances our slim and do plan to move forward in the future (once we've caught our breath), most likely in the foster care realm.

I am passionate about adoption and want to continue down this path, but in moments of weakness it's easy to cry out, Lord, I just want to experience the glory. I'm done with all the guts.