We’ve moved into the parenting phrase of constantly hearing “that’s not fair”. I didn’t realise this phase started as young as 4! If he has to eat his meat before he can watch TV, “it’s not fair”. If we tell him he can only watch 1 Octonauts and not 2 before bed, “it’s not fair”. If he has to go to school today because mummy has to work…you guessed it, “It’s not fair!” (That one I actually agree with him on!)
On more than one occasion I’ve caught myself saying, “Well, Nick, sometimes life isn’t fair.” And I think to myself, “This kid has no idea what “not fair” means!” But it’s all about perspective, isn’t it? In his little world, the fact he has to go to bed instead of watch TV is an incredible injustice. For me, the fact that 4 of the women I’m closest to in this whole world are all pregnant (3 of who fell within 2 months, the other within 6) and I, still 2+ years later, am not is completely unfair.
I think perhaps I don’t have a very good grasp on what’s fair or not, either. Not having another baby is so far down the list of “Terrible Things That Could Happen To Me” that really, “fair” has nothing to do with it. Trish is fighting cancer, Tiff spends more time in hospital than not with the gorgeous Ivy. There are more bloggers than I can poke a stick at who have lost children. All of those are a million times over, more unfair than me not having a second child.
My husband, son and I are all fit, healthy and active. That is more than fair.
We live a pretty charmed life, we rarely want for anything. That is more than fair.
We have good family and friends. So many people don’t. Again, more than fair.
But today, I can’t help it. I feel like it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I have to try and convince myself I’m ok with only one child. It’s not fair that I am made to feel selfish or ungrateful for wanting another child. It’s not fair that I have to watch everyone around me get pregnant while I can’t/don’t. It’s not fair that I feel like I have failed my son because he doesn’t have a sibling to
terrorize play with. It’s also unfair that the damn time clock keeps ticking away, faster and louder. When did I get so close to running out of time? Nine and a half years ago, when I met my husband, we had plenty of time. It’s not fair that this infertility makes me question everything relationship I have, or makes me scared of losing relationships. It’s mostly not fair that I can’t just get to the damn point where I am satisfied and content to be a family of three. That I’m not to that point of being able to accept there are no more babies for us. And so for now, we keep fighting the battle. But I don’t know how much more fight is left in me.