My Children

Today is my favorite niece's sixth birthday.

While I can't be in person to celebrate with her, I did mail a present for her to enjoy.

Thinking of the plethora of nieces and nephews, make me think of my own lost opportunities to have children.

I think what if my babies has lived thoughts. How would my life be different? I very rarely think on the three lives that could have been - the three new people that could've been.

My children would have been 13, 11, and 7. If that doesn't make me sad and old at the same time, I don't know what else could.  In my mind, they were all boys. I would've had a house full of boys, complete with superheroes and gifts of earthworms and frogs.  My little Michael, Zed, and Alex. I heard each of their heartbeats. I held them within my body. I spent months with Michael and Zed. I only knew of Alex for a few short hours. Each one of them changed me. I processed their end and I grieved them at the time. I grieve them still.  While miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies only effect 1 in 4 pregnancies, why was I cursed with having all of my pregnancies end this way? 

The first, I was 19 years old. I was still a child. I was heartbroken, but knew I could try again.

The second, I bonded with the little grape. I was almost past the first trimester. That hurt my heart like a bitch. But, finally, I had answers. My next would survive because my doctors had found the reason my body kept murdering my babies. We could try again.

And then the third pregnancy happened and it ended within the same day of me finding out. I was 7 weeks along. No amount of pleading the doctor to "just move the baby to where it was supposed to be" would change what was medically possible.  The ultrasound nurse showed me the zygote, and I could hear his heartbeat.  And then it had to end. I could rupture at anytime. It was amazing I hadn't already with the amount of bleeding I was having. They ended my pregnancy, taking my Fallopian tube and decommissioning an ovary all in the space of a few hours. That was my only surgery ever, and I woke up, alone, and in pain. In pain physically and in my heart. 

And 8 years later, that one still hurts the most. 

In 2016, I found out I have fibroid tumors and they're blocking my remaining Fallopian tube. I never had insurance long enough to have anything done about them. I currently live in a state of absolute awful pain every month. In the 8 years since my last pregnancy, my husband I have never used contraceptives and we haven't conceived - not even a scare.

It's not a thing that's going to happen for me.

At 28 when I found out, it sucked, but we hoped maybe something would change and we'd revisit the idea of children later, in 10 years.

At 32, I occasionally hear my bio clock ticking. I'll have those urges for children. Then I remember the three I lost, and I'm not strong enough to lose a fourth.

I have to settle for being an aunt to some amazing niblings. I'll watch them grow up on via Facebook, and mail presents for birthdays and holidays. I'm the aunt that lives far away now.

Broken Uterus

I left my position of manager and returned to working for the State Parks, in an office position this time.  I was super excited for it. I loved my job there last year, and I am/was looking forward to another season of travelers, wanderers, and wildlife.  The idea of going back for another season was one I had been playing with for a few months.  I know I don't enjoy managing. I didn't enjoy a 50 hour a week job, and I knew I could only do it for so long.