my one and only, you.

(Maxwell, nine days old. January 2007)

He is my one and only.
And I'm learning to be okay with that.

After three years of waiting and hoping and praying, I finally received my answer: One.

Believe me, it took a lot of time and a lot of tears.
I had to visit the "what ifs"...
What if I had been in better shape and weighed what I did when I got pregnant with Max?
What if I had done acupuncture?
What if I hadn't been so stressed and full of anxiety about the whole IVF process.

And I had to visit the "maybes"...
Maybe I'm not a good enough mother to the one I already have, and so I don't deserve another one...
Maybe my seizure medication is to blame... Maybe if I went off it I'd be able to get pregnant...
Maybe the three seizures in the span of 17 years is to blame...
Maybe if we hadn't waited two years after we got married to start our family...
Maybe if I wasn't so old...

Secondary infertility is tough one. I have one perfectly healthy, happy, loving boy. Am I greedy to want another and then feel such sadness that I can't have another? Do I have the right to even be sad when I know there are people who have tried, unsuccessfully, for years to have their first? I wasn't sure...and then my aunt said to me, "You are grieving for a baby you dreamed of having and the loss is real...a sweet baby - unknown but wanted and loved with all your heart. Max is your joy that makes you want another child."

And so I must let go...
of the dream of someday watching Max play with a brother or sister..
of the feeling that I failed Max as a mother in my inability to give him that brother or sister...
of the feeling that my body failed me...
of the feeling that I also failed my husband and his dreams of having two kids...

I know some of my thoughts may sound a bit ridiculous, but as a constant worrier and over-analyzer these were a few of the thoughts that crossed my mind. I think we all like to have firm answers to the questions in our lives and will search every nook and cranny of our minds to find something that brings us peace.

Am I over it all and fine now? Far from it. I have moments when I feel sad and angry and hopeless every day. Will it get better? At this moment, as I type this I can say yes, but there are definitely moments when I doubt it ever will; when I think there will always be someone missing from my family.

This experience has taught me that I can think I'm in control of planning my life all I want, but really He is in control and has much better plans than I can even begin to envision. Even in my sadness I realize this is true. Do I know what they are? No, I can't even begin to think of what's next. I always planned I'd be home with another baby for another five years. So, not only is it a little disappointing things didn't go as planned, I'm also sitting in limbo wondering what's next. Do I make plans to go back to work? Do I go back to school like I've always wanted? Do I just stay home for another five years?...I don't know. Time will tell. That's for Him to slowly reveal to me. A new friend emailed me about a week ago and said, "He does not waste an inch of your life Andrea. Not an inch. This includes the grieving part." I have held tight to those words in the past week. When I am sad I remember that this is part of the creation of my life; this experience is shaping me right now, in this very moment. He will not waste an inch of my life.

I'll end this long post with my favorite quote, which has even more meaning to me these past few weeks: "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." - Joseph Campbell

My life is waiting for me in the form of one, little, almost-five-year-old boy.