Fantasy and Reality

I can't help it. I try, really try, but I can't help it.

I still fantasize about having or adopting a baby.

I know having a child is impossible. You need the plumbing for that and mine is gone. Don't get me wrong, I soooo love the fact that I can walk by the "feminine products" aisle and smirk, not to mention saving $5-$10 a month on various plugs and padding. That part I wouldn't trade for anything.

Despite the positives, I still long for a child. I still feel like a part of me, a part of my life, is incomplete. I've tried to put it away, thought I'd dealt with it, but something or someone keeps kicking me back into hoping.

Currently I'm dealing with a client whose 14 year old daughter is 34 weeks pregnant. Yup, 14 and absolutely, completely, unequivocally unprepared for it. She's not even a mature 14. Everyone, including mom (my client), grandma, various family members and her doctor tried to convince her to have an abortion or at the very least, choose adoption. She's got the immature pie-in-the-sky, unrealistic attitude about this. When she was told she would have to go back to school after 6 weeks, she was surprised, thinking that having a baby meant you could stay home and never go back to school. I go and interpret for mom during her prenatal visits, try to be as neutral as possible while also knowing she needs the little things explained (thought having an epidural meant the catheter went completely up your entire spine and out the skin on your shoulder). I can't help it, but I also desperately want her to look at me and say "please raise my baby". Pure fantasy. Can't help it.

Tuesday night there was a retirement dinner for our president and CEO. The VP's wife is good friends with one of the women from our department and when a VIP showed unexpectedly, she gladly ditched the stuffed shirts and joined us. Sitting around the table and chatting...she runs an adoption agency. Fuck. Can't escape. It took everything I had not to beg her for a baby or start asking desperate questions.

So again I brought up the idea with D about adopting. Even an older child. She recently had a scare with her blood pressure...she's supposed to have been on meds for a few years but tends to not take them. Finally scared the shit out of her enough to pay attention. Well, she now doesn't want to bring a child into our lives for fear of dying and even further messing up the kid. Oh come on! It's just one more excuse. She gets very creative with them.

I tried to explain to her in terms she'd understand...I said it would be like trying to be straight. If I had to, I could probably manage it but I would be miserable and know that something wasn't right. That I was missing something vital to my being. That no amount of therapy, faking it, doing whatever could fix the wrong/missing thing. It's simply too inherent, too close to the core to simply go away. She understands but still doesn't want to bring a child into a family where she might die soon (she won't, just her fears).

So where does that leave me besides fucked? A year ago I maybe could have gone behind her back and tried to get knocked up. Didn't, but the option was theoretically there. I can't adopt secretly, just not possible. I guess I have to either dream this 14 year old kid miraculously wants me to raise her baby (look what I brought home, honey) or D comes to her senses and realizes that having a child will be good for us.

Ultimately I expect that I'm going to have to accept the fact that I will never have a child. Ever. That I will always be missing that part of me that can never be filled or replaced. How the hell does anyone get past it? If anyone knows, please tell me.

Talking to dad

I've been having the strangest dreams lately. At least I think it's lately. It could have been from a while ago and I just keep thinking about it. Either way, it's strange. Really strange.

I've been dreaming that my father came back (he died in 1991 when I was 25) and he hadn't really been dead. He somehow faked it and had actually had a major head injury or accident, the kind that changed your personality, and he stayed away until he recovered enough then came back. He is so different, so not the father I know, that I challenge him constantly on his actual identity. Quiz him, even.

You would think I would be thrilled that he's back, even if not completely "himself". I would finally have my father back, be able to sit down and have real, adult conversations. Ask him questions that I have always wanted to know...about himself, his family, our family/heritage. Questions that only he knows and I was never able to find out. Even sit down over a few drinks and have the "do you remember when I did..." conversations.

I truly regret not being mature enough at 25 to have at least some of those conversations with him. I was too busy being angry, changing, growing, learning about myself. There was so much we didn't share. I have a few major regrets in my life. This is right up there.

Sad, yes. This definitely makes me sad to think about the "what ifs", but the emotion I mostly feel during all this dreaming/thinking is anger. The "why the fuck did you leave?!", "you destroyed my life" anger. Re-mourning? Never actually worked it through and it's popping up again? Facing life changes myself and sad he wasn't there/here?

either way, it's still strange.