Babies... Will They Ever Be Mine?
This is a very emotional subject for me. I can’t think about it too much or I get too upset. The thought of never having my own children makes me feel sick and empty and sad. I don’t know why I have such an intense longing to have a baby. I have had one for as long as I can remember. When I was little and we were anywhere where we knew someone who had a baby, I was always desperate to hold them. I’m good with babies and children. They make me feel so happy. Yes, they can be such hard work, make you so exhausted and frustrated. But then they say or do something and suddenly all the anger dissipates, and you just feel a huge overwhelming sensation of love.
Surrounded by babies
Well, at least that’s how I feel with my eldest niece. I adore her. I never knew you could love a little person as much as I do. I can’t imagine her not being here. And she’s only 3. Life before her was definitely not as good as life is with her.
I’m surrounded by friends and siblings having babies. Which is wonderful. It means I get so many baby cuddles. I love it. It makes me feel so content.
And then I think, why can’t they be mine? Why can’t I have a baby? Why has my life taken the route it has that means I’m still single and childless? I thought I would be married with a baby by 30. I’m 34 in November. And I feel jealous and angry towards them, which is so unproductive, I know.
And when people tell me I’m so young and I have so much time, I want to punch them. This is not what I wanted. This wasn’t my plan. I don’t want to be an old mother. I don’t want to have my first baby over 35.
And yet the reality is, this is what’s going to happen. If I’m allowed to.
My blood cancer and my fertility
At the moment, I am on treatment that I’m not allowed to get pregnant on. And there is no way in hell I would be allowed the time off treatment now. I’m not allowed more than 6 weeks at the moment. If I were to ask if I could have at least a year and a half off treatment so I could get pregnant, have a baby, and breastfeed for the first 6 months, my consultant would probably laugh at me. Well, I doubt they would. They would smile kindly and say no. I don’t know if I’m fertile at the moment. I haven’t done a test. I have eggs frozen so if I’m not, that’s not game over for me in terms of fertility.
And I hate the fact this is dictated to me by the hospital. Something so natural. Fundamentally, the reason I exist (and all women) is to have babies. And I’m not allowed.
People say to me, "what about adopting?" But it’s not the same. Of course, you love the child. But, it’s not the same. And I doubt an adoption agency would even let me start the process. Cancer. Nope. Single. No way. No guaranteed income. Forget it.
I think about doing it on my own. With a sperm donor. I would have to move back home and have parental help. I would really struggle to look after me and a baby full time at the moment on my own. I can just about look after me.
Will this dream ever happen?
Maybe it’s a dream that will never happen. I don’t know. I can’t think about that too much. I would feel like a failure. Like my life isn’t complete. That I didn’t do everything that I was meant to.
I wonder if this has all happened because of cancer. If I’m genuinely not with someone because my cancer has scared them off. Well, no, I shouldn’t be with someone like that. But, if my being so open about living with cancer is partly responsible as I say it is, sort of joking, sort of not. Then, well, that’s a very hard pill to swallow.
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