Wanting

I was watching TV with my mother and a commercial came on for Pampers Sensitive baby wipes. It showed a newborn baby in the hospital, crying for a moment before his mother calmed him down. The commercial made me sad, as so many ads with newborns and older babies in them do. It was different this time, though. Before, I’d see a baby and miss my Roo terribly and wish I still had her.

Today was different. I miss Roo, as I always do and always will. She grew in my belly, and she was mine for nine weeks. I love her dearly. How could I not miss her? But when I saw the baby on TV, I said to my mother, “Oh, I want a baby.” And I realized as I said it that I did not mean Roo or want her back. I wanted to have my own baby. Roo is not mine. She was not meant to be mine. She is P and M’s baby. They are her parents. Although I miss her, and I want a baby, I would never take her back from her parents. What I felt was the desire to have the baby that is meant to be mine. A baby I can keep in good conscience. A baby whose father loves me and married me and will take good care of us both.

It was strange to realize that, much as I miss Roo and love her, I would not take her back. I’m not saying that if something happened and she was offered to me, I wouldn’t take her. I would take her in a second. But in missing her, I no longer wish she were with me. I no longer feel as though my baby has been taken and given to others, and I realized that I haven't felt that way for nearly nine weeks. I no longer feel that she is mine in the truest sense of the word. I am blessed beyond measure to be her birth mother, and I am content with that. I have a wonderful relationship with P and M and I know that if I need it, I can ask them and get a picture or an update or arrange a visit.

I want a baby, but I want more, not just a baby. I want a family – a husband, a home. I want a child who isn’t just mine but my husband’s as well – a man I love more than anything. I don’t want to go to prenatal appointments alone. I don’t want my mother to be the other adult in my baby’s life. If my experiences with H have taught me anything, it’s what I’m looking for in a man. I get discouraged because I feel like maybe I’m too picky, my standards too high, and I’ll never find the kind of man I’m looking for. But as S reminded me, it’s better to be alone than to be with the wrong person. If I have to be alone, so be it. I’m willing to find my life wanting until I find what I want.