I was someone who always wanted to be a mom. When it didn’t happen easily for me, the 28 months of waiting felt unbearable at times.
There were reminders everywhere of what I didn’t have and wanted so badly.
It seemed like someone was always announcing a pregnancy.
There were the dreaded baby shower invitations in the mail that left me with a decision. Would I be able to mask my pain at what I didn’t have long enough to get through the shower, or would I be better off just sending a gift?
I’d see babies everywhere–at church, the grocery store, the park–and sometimes I would tear up, wondering if I’d ever be bringing a baby to these places.
Hearing stories about other people’s kids was tough because I’d always wonder if I’d have a story to share about my son or daughter.
I was constantly asked questions about when I’d be having a baby.
The commitments I was juggling between infertility appointments with my doctor and appointments related to our adoption home study meant something was always on the calendar related to trying to become a parent.
There was no escape.
The day we adopted our son was the best day of my life. Our wait was finally over. He’s been the perfect addition to our family and was worth every tear and worry about whether we’d ever be parents.
For myself, I feel a sense of peace. My son is a toddler now, and while I’d love another kid, I also know how lucky I am to be a mom. There were years I thought I’d never get this chance, and I am so thankful for what I have.
I do worry about my son though.
Right now, he is perfectly happy not sharing mommy and daddy. He loves getting all the snuggles and all the attention focused on him.
But one day, that may change. He may want a sibling. Something we cannot guarantee him.
If he does not have a sister or brother one day, will my husband and I be enough to fill the gap?
I know he will enjoy playing with his cousins, and we are fortunate to have some who live in the same town as us. He is already creating lots of memories with them.
But will he be jealous that his cousins have siblings if he never has one?
He’ll play with kids in the neighborhood and make friends at school one day. But will he be sad he doesn’t have a sibling to share every day of his life with?
If my son wants a sibling and it doesn’t happen, how can I explain to him that no matter how much I love him and would do anything for him, there are some things I can’t control?
How do I tell him that although he’d be a really great big brother, I may not be able to make that happen?
It used to be that seeing babies caused me to feel sad because it was a reminder of what I didn’t have and wanted so badly.
Now, sometimes when I see siblings together having fun, I feel a twinge of sadness, wondering if that will ever happen for my son.
My son is enough to make me feel like the luckiest mom in the world.
I just hope that if we are not blessed with a second child, our love will be enough to make up for what he will miss out on if he doesn’t have a sibling.