The Infertile Brain

I loved this post by one of my bloggy friends, Augusta,  because it captured some of the feelings I have been having as it relates to our upcoming adoption.  Augusta is referring to embryo donation, but I think it applies to all of us with infertile brains.  She said, "Do I have to leave the safe platform of my fears and leap wholeheartedly, believing unequivocally that this process will work. Is it reasonable to be afraid, and does being afraid mean that it will fail? Ah, the superstitious workings of an infertile's brain. I tell ya."


This is where I am in my "infertile brain".  I have become accustomed to not having things work out in the infertile world I live in, so I am getting a little nervous that I my heart might be crushed through adoption.  I know I should be positive and I am, but my track record makes me a little skittish at times.  I am still hesitant to buy anything.  I am still hesitant to tell hardly anyone.  A few people when they hear the news have excitedly said I need to have a baby shower, but I don't want to have a baby shower until after the baby comes.  I wish I could just let my fears go, but frankly I am terrified.  


What do I fear?  I fear my heart will be broken.  I fear all the incessant questions people will ask about the adoption. I fear the questions that would come if things did fall through.  I fear I will have wasted all this time being afraid when I could've been celebrating.  I just feel like a deer in the headlights paralyzed and hoping the car won't crash into me.


So, I guess I need to answer the questions Augusta posed. 
I think I must leave the safe platform of my fears.  


I think of when pools used to have super duper high diving boards.  Every summer I would go to the pool w/my siblings and we would jump off the diving boards.  The high one was so scary though.  I would usually have enough courage to do it once or twice a summer.  It would be so scary and I dreaded walking up the stairs to the diving board.  But once I was at the top, fear and all, I needed to jump.  I wouldn't dream of going back down the stairs with everyone staring at me wimping out.   I don't know that I ever leaped off the diving board.  I think I merely walked off hoping I would make it to the bottom alive.  When I hit the water and realized I had survived, I would feel relieved.  Proud of myself for doing it, but I never really enjoyed it.  


So, I guess that is my answer.  Maybe this whole process is like going off that super duper high diving board.  It must be done.  Maybe now I am older and wiser to be able to leap or jump off the board with more confidence that I will make it as scary as it might be.  And who knows, maybe I will enjoy it a bit.  But I do think it is reasonable to be afraid.  Just as every year going off that diving board was just as scary as it had been the previous year.  But even though I was afraid, every year, I survived.  


So, I would have to say no, being afraid does not mean failure, being afraid means being human, infertile or not. 


Will I let my fear get the best of me and send me back down the stairs afraid to go off the diving board?  No, not a chance.  I am infertile but who cares?  I am adopting a beautiful baby in a few weeks.  I will try not to let fear rob me of this excitement.   


I am going to jump in the pool.
SPLASH!
Come join me.  Let's have a pool party.