There was an interesting conversation on our Facebook page awhile back. I said that when there are new babies or little kids, I love to be able to hold them and squeeze them and pinch their chubby little cheeks. Not everyone agreed with me, and a couple of people said they absolutely can't handle being around other peoples' kids.
It's very hard to explain to people who have children what my experience is like. Without thinking about it, when I hold a baby or when a little kid asks to hold my hand or play a game, my imagination runs wild. "This is what it would be like if I was ever to become a mommy," my brain says. Believe me, I wish my brain would not have these flashes of insight. I wish it would keep itself grounded. But still, on it goes. "This is what it would be like to have an adoring little face looking up at you all the time. This is what it would be like to go out and have people assume that the baby or kid is yours. The knowing glances, the smiles, all of it would be directed at you. This is what it would be like."
The problem with my brain doing this, of course, is that none of these babies or kids are mine. The time comes when they ask for their mom, or when their mom picks them up to snuggle, or something else happens to break the spell. I find these little moments to be devastating, no matter how healed I am. It is Don Quixote realizing that he is not really a knight, but rather just a crazy guy in love with a prostitute who waved a sword at some windmills.
I'm not that crazy but still!
These two elements, the ability of my brain to fantasize away and then the breaking of the dream, happen without any thought from my conscious self. I hang around kids thinking that it's great that my friends have such wonderful children, or that there are such wonderful kids in my family. But my brain is a sneaky thing.
I am trying to think of an appropriate analogy that would help my friends with children understand my probably confusing reactions. I ask to see pictures of their kids, I ask if I can hold the baby, but then I might get quiet or withdrawn later. What is that all about, they likely wonder. If holding a baby upsets me, why do I do it? If being around kids upsets me, why do I do that?
I love children. That's the whole reason why I want to have my own. It's like lusting after something someone else has. You aren't wanting it just for the heck of it. You aren't envious just because it passes the time. I love children. I love their innocence. I love how their personalities start mixing with imitations of various adults they know. And babies, well, who can resist a sleepy little warm bundle of baby mush?
I don't expose myself to children to teach myself to cope better or because I really enjoy the endless cycles it puts me into. I love children, and I always think that if I can't have my own, why not enjoy the children who are already around. It all seems reasonable till I'm in the process, and then my brain goes wild again, imagining things that can never be, offering me a peek into the toy store before the curtain goes down.
This is one area where I will say I think suffering from infertility is harder than a lot of other things a person can deal with. It's so easy to get glimpses into what your life could be like. When you babysit, when you are accompanying a parent and their kid shopping or to a restaurant. For brief moments you have a glimpse at the one thing you want but can't have. And that's the part that I need to figure out how to get around.
Do you have that problem? Have you found a way to deal with it? I'd love to hear about it.
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