A calling to things I can't fulfill

The past three or so months have had such a concentrated amount of engagement, wedding, and pregnancy announcements - more than I remember there ever being at any point in my life. I think something is in the water, especially with all these new babies.

For the announcement of my sister's pregnancy, I couldn't have been more thrilled. After begging for a niece or nephew for five years, my sister was sitting in front of me telling me that I soon would be an aunt. I sobbed hysterically for a good five minutes repeatedly asking, "Are you really pregnant?" I could not have been more excited. Now, in about 13 weeks, I will get to hold sweet little Chase for the first time.

For all the other announcements/photos/cute proposal videos... it wasn't as fun. I felt emotions I didn't know existed. People reading this will probably say, "well of course you are jealous that it isn't you." Maybe, but I don't think that is entirely the issue. It could be jealousy, but a different kind. Because if I am experiencing jealousy, it is jealousy of something that may never happen.

Yes, I do realize that I am 21 years old - am I even a real adult yet? I realize I have my whole life ahead of me. I realize that just because everyone else is doing something doesn't mean it is the right thing for me in the moment. I know all of these things. It really isn't that.

It's that with every new life update or progression I see someone else experiencing, I am reminded of the struggle that I will have to overcome to reach that milestone.

(Clearly these baby announcements and engagements and weddings and family photos are about me. [Sarcasm.] I never said this post wasn't selfish.)

You see, from the time I was a toddler, one of my favorite games was house. One of my favorite toys was baby dolls. I carried a doll around all the time. I remember one time crying in the mall because a little boy picked up my baby doll, not in a proper way to hold a child, swung it around, and screamed, "IT NOT REAL!" I was in hysterics because to me, it was real. When I played house with my friends, I was always the mom. While everyone else wanted to pretend to be hungry babies, misbehaving children, or sassy teenagers, all I wanted was to be the mommy. (Either that, or I never let anyone else be the mom. I was kind of bossy too.)

My whole life, anytime I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I gave whatever career was most exciting at the time, and then followed it with, "and a mommy."

A princess...and a mommy.
A teacher...and a mommy.
A singer...and a mommy.
An actress...and a mommy.
An astronaut...and a mommy.
An astronomer...and a mommy.
A 4-H agent...and a mom.
A journalist...and a mom.
A Spanish teacher...and a mom.
A PR professional...and a mom.
And a mom.
A mom.
Mom.

It's always been important. But let me tell you something: I can't have kids. Let me clear what I mean when I say can't...

With current medicine and technology and my body's current medical state...

• There is a 50% chance of serious complications in pregnancy due to my aneurysm. This could be as simple as bed rest or as extreme as death by childbirth or anything in between. 
• There is a 50% chance of passing on my heart condition to my child.
• There is a 50% chance of passing on my connective tissue disorder to my child.
• I cannot, currently, deliver a child. I would have to give birth by scheduled c-section, possibly earlier than normal, and complications are highly possible.

Those numbers aren't fantastic. Knowing all of that, I cannot be at peace with the decision to naturally conceive and deliver a child. Because there are millions of what if scenarios...

What if my baby has every medical issue I have?
What if I die during pregnancy/birth leaving my child motherless and my husband a single father?
What if my baby has a worse form of my heart condition and needs surgery right away?
What if there is a complication during the c-section?
What if I need open heart surgery during my pregnancy?

There are a lot more of these swarming around in my head.

At 17, a doctor, not knowing I had never been told this, told me that I should not have children with my heart the way it is. Immediately tears brimmed my eyes and I looked to my mother who, wide-eyed, told the doctor that I had never been told that before. He apologized for the tone in which he said it, but he didn't seem to understand the hurt that he caused. Because as a junior in high school, I was now faced with something that I shouldn't have even had to think about until my mid-twenties.

This has affected my life more than you would think. In any serious dating relationship, children are brought up, and I have to tearfully explain why I may not be able to have children. This decision is one that should have been made with my future husband, but I feel that I made it alone at 17 years old. I know medicine could improve drastically, a cure could be found for my EDS, and I could have heart surgery... I know it could, but I know there is also another option: adoption.

Because somewhere out there will be a child or two or six who need my love. They won't come from my body. They won't be announced by a baby bump photo. I may not even know them until years after they are born. But oh, will they be loved. Because since before I could talk, I knew I wanted to be a mommy. Since before I even began seriously dating, I prayed to experience motherhood. I think God gave me this strong desire to be a mother because He knew if He created me wanting it badly enough, I could help Him provide love and home to some sweet baby or child who doesn't even yet exist. This is my calling. Not one I can fulfill, but only one that God, in His time, can make happen.

This is often one of my prayers, and this particular one was written down and placed in my adoption book about three years ago:

"God, I want to be a mother. Whether it be through childbirth, adoption, or some other way I am unaware of. I give this to you to do what is best for me."

So until my time comes, I have many things I can do...

• I can be happy for the newlyweds and new parents. Yes, they are one step closer than I am now and maybe further than I will ever be, but it is their time. Not mine. I will smile and say congratulations because this is one of the happiest moments of their life.
• I can remind myself that this is only the beginning. I am 21 years old. My friends are JUST now starting to have kids. As I get older, I have a feeling that this won't get easier for me. Because when my friends are all having babies #2 and #3, I may still be struggling to adopt.
• I can live in the now. I have a wonderful life and I want to enjoy it - this season, this moment. I don't want to waste my time wishing I was in another season of life.
• I can spoil my nephew. Since I found out my sister was pregnant, I have continually referred to Chase as "my baby." Stephanie has let me - because she knows my excitement and understands my struggle. She has invited me to be a part of the delivery - for which I am both thrilled and grateful since her experiences with childbirth and labor may be the only ones I get to have as well. This little boy is going to be so spoiled and so loved. Even if I never get to be a mommy, I will be the best aunt ever. 
• I can pray. For my future husband and his family - that they have a heart for adoption, as I do. For my future children - that God will work out His plan in His time. For my heart - that I will not be bitter while I wait for God, that I will become the type of woman who can be a godly and loving mother, and that I will feel happiness in every area of my current life.

This isn't an easy topic to talk about. It's sensitive, emotional, and real. I can talk about being sick anytime, but when it comes to babies, my heart is so full that my body has nothing else to do but let the tears fall from my eyes. I'm obviously not the first person to deal with this issue, but this is my first time dealing with it. 

So I'm just doing the best I can and I will let God do the rest.