Pressure

My grandmother found a different tack to use on me in the Pressure-to-Have-a-Baby-2007 campaign: giving a child to one who has been adopted.

That probably didn't make any sense, but it will soon, I promise.

My husband was adopted when he was eight-days-old; his parents arranged the adoption before he was born and after having their first attempt at adoption fail when the mother changed her mind, they made sure to drive right on down to Cincinnati to get him as soon as possible. He and his younger brother were both adopted from teen mothers, but he's always been comfortable with that (as far as I can tell), but it gave my grandmother the [not completely unjustified] notion that he deserves to "have one of his own"; to be able to have a child that is completely his. It's not that I don't want to give him a child, it's just that the body isn't exactly in a cooperating mood of late. It's just that, when my grandmother says it, it feels as if I have more pressure to 'deliver the goods', leaving me feeling as if I'm a complete failure as a woman because I can't (and may not ever) give him a child of his own.

He's willing to adopt if we can't have children. He's the one who brought it up, but he did express really wanting children of his own so I know how much this really means to him. I want to do this, but we need to find out what the problem is so that it can either be resolved or accepted, which would allow us to move forward and do whatever it is we need to do to have a family to raise.

Until more is done to get to the bottom of this, I'm not going to stress myself out about it. I have the GRE to prepare for, and more people to meet in putting together this graduate school endeavor, so I'm trying to take it all in stride and not make myself miserable.

At least, not yet anyway.

Oh well, back to work.