broken people

In church this morning our pastor made the point that we are all broken people, just broken in different ways. This really made me think. I think it struck a chord with me because the other day I got very discouraged and told A. that I am broken and will never be able to get pregnant (my diagnosis is unexplained anovulation). A., of course, was very supportive and comforting but there was really nothing he could say to convince me I was wrong. Our preacher also talked about the importance of not being too stubborn to ask for help when we need help.

If I really want a baby (and I do!) what is standing in my way of pursuing pregnancy more aggressively? I just keep wishing and hoping and praying that it will happen naturally. Somehow I have developed a superstitious belief that if I just ovulate on my own and we happen to have sex at the right time, then the pregnancy and baby will be meant-to-be and there will be absolutely nothing to worry about forever and ever . . . healthy pregnancy, healthy baby, healthy me, good kid, no teenage trauma, long happy lives all around. But I know there is no real reason not to go ahead with clomid. In addition to just being afraid of pregnancy and childbirth (strong desire + strong fear = paralyzing ambivalence), I am also afraid that if we move ahead with clomid and that doesn't work then we will have to face the possibility that we will never have a child of our own.

I am not opposed to adoption. In theory, I love it. I love the idea of taking in a baby who needs a home. Of being able to ease the suffering of one person in this world. For years, I thought I only wanted to adopt, that I never wanted to be pregnant. Why contribute to overpopulation and put myself through some extreme physical trauma at the same time when there was such a better alternative out there, right? (You may think I am crazy. Maybe I am the only person who ever felt this way.) But in the past few years I have had a steadily increasing desire to have a baby of my own with A. Perhaps it is just the old biological clock ticking, but I believe this desire has grown out of how incredibly in love with my husband I am. I want to create life with him. To conceive his child, our child, part of him and part of me but still someone altogether new. Lately I swoon at the sight of children who might look a bit like a child of ours could look: my pale skin and his brown eyes, my nose and his curls, etc.