Over the past 24 hours, I’ve learned a hard lesson. Things are going to happen fast but they can also… un-happen just as fast. And your heart is going to be secretly ripped out but you have to just take a deep breath and tell yourself that that little newborn safe haven baby is going to go to a wonderful family and have such a great life. Someone else was meant for her. When I realized that I truly believed that with every ounce of my heart, something clicked in me and I became aware of a huge change in my outlook that, I guess, has been building little by little over the past 6 or so months (I’m not going to go check my email or previous blog posts for exact dates… just go with the 6 month thing. I think I wore long pants to the first meeting and probably a cardigan because I thought it looked mom-ish… it MUST have been winter, right?)

I’ve had to train my heart to go through a shift over the past few months. Spending 7 years doing infertility treatments is, at its core, a somewhat selfish pursuit. I don’t say that in a bad way at all, it was our choice to do that and I NEEDED to do that. Had they been successful, that would have been wonderful. But in some way… infertility treatments are an attempt to fulfill a need that I, as a woman and a hopeful mother, have. And that is fine. PLEASE don’t think I’m suddenly turning on my sisters and pointing a finger and crying foul. I would never. My heart breaks for you every month you must once again mourn and when you are successful, I cheer from mountains with you. I will NEVER not be one of you because we have been in the trenches together.

But one of the oft-ignored aspects of infertility is the fact that for so many of us, treatments aren’t enough. We aren’t destined to give birth and, speaking just for myself, on some level I feel like a failure as a woman because of that. And I don’t think that feeling is ever going to go away. It’s like a secret club that I’m just not ever going to be invited to join and I had to allow that to really sink in. And you know what? It took a lot longer than I thought it was going to take but one day, it just kind of stuck and miraculously it was a lot easier to handle than I thought it would be.

So here we are. Waiting. Within half an hour of being approved we were considered for a 3 day old safe haven baby and a 3 year old little boy. I think that, at this point, both of them have gone to different homes. And when I only cried a little it occurred to me that maybe my perspective had changed. There is a child out there that needs me, that is waiting for me as desperately as I am waiting for them. Yes. I will get excited every time we are contacted. But ultimately, I just want the kids to be in the best place for them. Eventually that will be my home for just the right person but until that happens, I’m their cheerleaders too.