Polite Southern Girl

I don't know how many times it's happened in the last week. Ten? Maybe fifteen? I'll be chatting with a friend, family member, or acquaintance and inevitably "THE QUESTION" will be asked.

"So, have you heard anything?"

The answer is always the same - something along the lines of, "Nope, not a word yet."

People's reactions vary. Some are upbeat and positive with a brief word of encouragement and then on to the next topic. It's the people who become solemn, get that sympathetic tone to their voice, and try to comfort me that bug the living CRAP out of me.

They seem to think that our lives are empty and meaningless without a child. Or more specifically, that WE THINK our lives are empty and meaningless without a child.

I try to explain that I am fine - that WE are fine right where we are at the moment. We are content to wait for a child who is a good fit for us and vice versa, even if that wait lasts a year or more. I also mention that if for whatever reason parenthood doesn't happen for us, we are truly content with our life together as it is now.

I might as well have the Charlie Brown teacher's voice.

I'm not sure what it is - if they think that it's all a defense mechanism and that I'm trying to paint a sunny picture even as my heart is breaking, but here have been a few of my favorite responses of the past week:

"Just yesterday my husband was talking about how mad he is at the fact that our nephew and his druggie girlfriend keep cranking out kids when you and O are so desperate for a baby."

"You know, there is always the Big Bro*thers Big Sist*ers program where you could mentor a child. That might fill the huge void you are feeling." (That was my SIL!)

"I am so, so sorry." (Whaaaa?????)

So here it is, in black and white - the things I would say if my mother hadn't raised a polite Southern girl.

I am fine. Really. I am not weeping gently by the phone waiting for it to ring. Believe it or not.

I am not jealous of your pregnancy/newborn/toddler/gradeschooler. At all. I love my friends and family members' kids. They make me happy. Not sad. So don't tiptoe around me. It pisses me off. Know what else makes me happy? Playing with your child, hugging and loving on him/her, and then giving them back to you and going home to my quiet peaceful house and snuggling up on the sofa in O's arms.

I don't want to be pregnant. Even a little bit. I'm 41 years old and I'm not interested in taking the risk. If you think I'm saying that as a defense mechanism, okay. But I'm not.

Walking away from fertility treatments was the best thing I've done on this particular journey. It never felt right for me. It just felt like what I was "supposed" to do. Therefore, I am not envious of your IUI/IVF attempts. I really do wish you luck.

I am not willing to bring a child into my home who is not a good fit for us just to be able to call myself a "parent". That wouldn't be fair to me or to the child. Therefore I am fine with waiting. Really.

If motherhood doesn't happen for me, I will happily live my life with my best friend and the most wonderful person I've ever met. Living in that love is "enough" now. It will always be enough. Believe it or not.

Have I always been this "at peace" with the situation? Absolutely not. It's taken a lot of time to get here.

Do I want to be a mom? Yes. (At least on most days.)

Are there moments when I'm wistful, wishing that we already had a child to love and spoil? Yes.

Do I occasionally wish that O and I had met five or ten years earlier and tried for kids right away? Sure I do.

But hear - really HEAR what I'm saying.

I am happy. Really and truly happy.

And content.

And fulfilled.

Right now.

Today.

There is no reason to feel sorry for me - for us. We are not suffering in any way, shape or form.

My life is far from perfect, but it's good. Really really good.

So take your mournful tone and your ignorant assumptions, well meaning though they may be, and kindly stick them.

THAT'S what I'd say if my mother didn't raise a polite Southern girl.