Odd. I got guests going to be staying here this weekend in a similar situation. We went to school together - the three of us. Mike and Kate (No, not their actual names) were always close, and got closer as we all got older. They got married the day Kate turned 18.
Skip forward a few years, and they were the ones who gently and very lovingly put me back together when I was falling apart from PTSD. Didn't want to see my family at all, but friends, yeah I could cope with that, just. They were still childless at the time, and, having gone on a couple of hunting expeditions with Mike before he settled down, I found that hard to believe - his nickname in school was Piledriver .....
One night after a few beers, he told me. After a couple of early stage miscarriages, they had gone for a full check out. Mutually infertile, which happens in about 2% of couples. Nothing actually wrong with either of them, just no baby could be born between them.
We been friends since we were both 10, and I never saw him cry before.
I felt like you do. Pain, grief and, to be honest, outright rage. Two of the nicest people in the world, screwed over like that. Wanting something they simply could not have and that I wanted for them too.
It got worse, when I settled down - something they (and I) had confidently predicted would never happen - and had a kid within the year. Still friends, but their visits became fewer and sadder.
So I did what any friend would do. Took Kate out to dinner one night while my lady kindly babysat - Mike was away for work. Wined her and dined her. And don't be disgusting - she is far too good a friend for that. We talked for a long time. Hell, didn't drop her off at home before 4 AM and we went out at 6 PM.
She, and her husband moved away shortly after as she got a better job, but they always come to us the weekend before Christmas and bring all three of their children with them.
They adopted all three.
Blood doesn't matter. Love does. The children of your heart are the ones in your heart. If the child carries your genes is immaterial.
Hope that helped.
Wow amazing post.
I'm the person who asked the question, and I thank you for that answer; it really did help a lot.
My friends met me when I was that young, too, but they are quite a bit older... and don't worry, nothing iffy or weird about this adult-meeting-child situation. I had physically and emotionally abusive parents. No self-esteem as a result, and that plus being poor made me easy pickings for bullies and the like.
When I met them, after we had gotten to know each other, they did their best for me. I was not adopted, but I missed out on none of the benefits. I could always count on a hug and some advice from the lady, and help with schoolwork or some playing with her man. For many years they were there, listening, being there; I used to cry every time I had to leave their house because it was there that felt like home.
Now I am a college student. The first in my family, and I attribute that to these friends. There have been so many times over the years where they've kept me from falling apart, and along the way, they taught me how to be an adult.
I love them more than anything, and I know they love me. But sometimes there are times where both of them will feel very sad about being childless, particularly around the holidays. Occasionally they talk to me about it through messages (we live quite a ways from each other now) and it feels almost like a physical wound that I can't help them.
I mean, hell, you switch on a television, or, you even look around a bit, or you even look at my mom and dad, and you see parents who either don't want their kids or are indifferent to them. Many do love their kids, of course, but---here is a pair of some of the best people in the world, who would make fantastic parents, and they can't. Where is the justice in that?
All of these things go through my head when they talk to me about it, but all I can really do is say "I'm sorry." Say it as many ways as I can. And of course, I try to be the best I can be, as my own way of saying thank you.
Happily, though, they do intend to adopt soon. I'm a little jealous of the hypothetical kid, but that's about 1% of the feeling, the rest being pure joy. They're both happy and a bit apprehensive: they doubt their abilities as parents, and that makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. Usually I can stop laughing before someone goes for a relaxing drink.
I write this essay/novel/much too long reply for three reasons. One, I just think you'll understand. Two, to let you know that the end of this story will be a happy one. By the time a few years pass, the world will see one bigger, happier family!
Finally, three, as a way for me to thank you and let you know that your answer meant a lot to me. It's always reassuring to know that one is not alone. It's especially reassuring to know of the happy outcome in your case.
Thank you so much, MM, and I do apologize for the length of this.
Just going to comment on one part.
"I mean, hell, you switch on a television, or, you even look around a bit, or you even look at my mom and dad, and you see parents who either don't want their kids or are indifferent to them. Many do love their kids, of course, but---here is a pair of some of the best people in the world, who would make fantastic parents, and they can't. Where is the justice in that?"
Never expect justice from life. It does not exist. You play the hand you are dealt. Sometimes, you can make it work. Sometimes you can't, no matter how hard you try.
No excuse not to try, ever.
The way I see it, justice is something we make for ourselves, so I agree. No excuse not to try. But when it's something we can't help, like infertility... well.
I dunno, maybe there's still some justice in that. For the adopted children, and for their parents too.
Wow MM the more you divulge about your life the sweeter and sweeter you seem!
my answer might not be popular, but i am one of those people that people walk on eggshells around when the topic comes up. for me, i can sometimes have an off color sense of humor, although i will be the first to admit this is a no joke situation. but when one of my nearest and dearest can make a joke about it, it completely diffuses the situation, AND lets me know how much they love and support me. here is an example, was out shopping a couple of years ago with a bestie, and you know how some people just sort of end up following you around the store, or just end up being in the same places you are all the time. oh my god, we couldn't get rid of this one girl, and she was wondering if she was pregnant and really didn't want to be and so she had like 20 tests in her cart and all she kept talking about was not wanting to be pregnant, and my bestie is trying to get us away from this chick as i am fighting tears. she sees this cart with a baby carrier in the front section and the cutest baby ever and mom is off to the side checking out vitamins or something, and my friend says jokingly, "want me to steal that one for you? we've got time to run." of course she would never, but i laughed so hard i cried and told her how much i loved her. it's a tough situation and birth issues, like death issues, hard to find the right thing to say. if she is as close to you as she sounds, there is no wrong thing to say and she does not expect you to understand. because nobody does unless they've been there. she just needs to know you love her and support her, and if you can get her to laugh about it, that's a fun way to show that.
wow, i agree! the more and more you divulge about yourself the more you seem like an epically awesome guy and your wife insanely lucky! :D
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