the fertility advocate

Talking, writing, educating, and change making in the field of fertility for more than twenty years

Do You Imagine Your Child To Be?

Dear Readers:

Every year around November I post my most favorite  personal writing about my own experience with infertility. I have to be honest. I love this entry as much today as I did all those many years ago when I wrote it. So, today is the day that I am bringing it back and dusting it off.  I publish it with love for where ever you are in your journey.

With Love, Pamela

The Child of My Infertility Dreams…..

I never envisioned myself the mother of boys. When I used to imagine my child, I would picture a little dark haired girl. Sometimes, I would see her in glimpses, holding someone else’s hand. She would have a page-boy hair cut and look a little Asian. I had a long time to imagine and long for this imaginary child.

During the height of my infertility, I used to picture this little child, and tell her why I wanted her so much. I told her what a good mother and father she would have, if she would just be born. I shared my dreams with her. I looked in shop windows at little pink things that I might buy for her. She was my child of hope.

I came across a passage in a novel I was reading recently. It struck an unexpected chord in me, and I was reminded of my “infertility child”. Scottish sisters-in-law who lived in the 1700’s are talking late at night. One is a new mother, with her child at her breast. The new mother was explaining to her sister about how she talked to her baby before the child was born.

“You can talk to a babe, you know. You can tell them anything. You can pour out your soul to them without choosing your words or keeping anything back at all. And that’s a comfort to the soul. I have often wondered if that’s why women are so often sad, once the child is born,” she said meditatively, as though thinking aloud. “Ye think of them while ye talk, and you have a knowledge of them as they are inside ye, the way you think they are. And then they’re born and they’re different – not the way you thought of them inside, at all. And ye love them of course, and get to know them the way they are… but still there is the thought of the child ye once talked to in your heart, and that child is gone. So I think it’s the grievin’ for the child unborn that you feel, even as ye hold the born one in your arms.” And she paused and kissed the downy head of her daughter. “Yes, before….it’s all possibility. It might be a son, or a daughter. A plain child, a bonny one. And then it’s born, and all the things it might have been are gone, because now it is. And a daughter is born, and the son that she might have been is dead,” she said quietly. “And the bonny lad at your breast has killed the wee lassie ye thought you carried. And ye weep for what you didn’t know, and that’s gone for good, until you know the child you have, and then at last it’s as though they could never have been other than they are, and you feel naught but joy in them. But until then, you weep easy.”

The child unknown is an issue for many of those struggling with infertility. The child of infertility for you, may be the child you lost through miscarriage or stillbirth. The child you talked to in your heart may be the one you have to say goodbye to before you are able to pursue adoption or third party reproduction. And like me, you might be surprised to find that you did not or might not, give birth to the baby you were talking to for so long.

I sit on my couch, and watch an old family video of my little family when they were younger. I see two beautiful blond haired boys. Not Asian in appearance, but rather Nordic. Tyler the five year old is actually hugging his little brother and shouts “Family Hug Time”. I watch myself in the video, gathering my treasures in my arms.

Treasures that were buried deep and almost lost. I sniff their hair and kiss their eyelids. I can see the look of wonderment on my own much younger face…it is as though I am thanking the heavens for these boys that are are so real and finally here.

I am caught by the thought of that little girl, so different, that child of my infertility dreams. I think of her, as I watch myself in the midst of solid, sturdy arms wrapped tightly around my neck. And I bless her for keeping me company and giving me hope. Her image challenged me to find some inner strength. In my mind’s eye, she asked me to find her. And I did. In two little boys.

About Pam Madsen
Talking, writing, educating and change making in the field of fertility for more than twenty years
2 total comments on this postSubmit yours
  1. It is as if you plucked this theory from my mind and wrote it more eloquently than I ever could.

    • My Dear Mrs. Tiye,
      Love and Hugs to you,
      Pamela

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