A Child “Of My Own”

“When do you plan to have kids of your own?” another mother helping with the class party asks me enthusiastically. “You’re so good with Carl. Wouldn’t you like to have your own?” I have been asked this question since Carl was in preschool… that was over six years ago. People assume that since I love kids and Carl in particular, I’d want to expand my family. “Your own” always rubs me the wrong way though but not as much as the need for individuals I barely know to ask such a personal question about my reproductive ventures. “Perhaps someday but I’ve got my hands full right now helping to raise this gorgeous boy” is my standard answer with a sweet smile. Would I like biological children of my own? Absolutely. I’d love a dozen little Carls and Carlettes running around if given the opportunity. Can I have biological children? Yep, my uterus is textbook- thanks for asking. So why don’t I? Such a simple question with such a multitude of answers. In a cruel twist of fate, we tried for years to have children. I have conceived and miscarried a total of three horrible times (including once during court). I finally sought infertility treatment and, as a last checkoff on the insurance list before beginning any treatment, my husband was to be tested to rule out any male infertility factors. This was a no-brainer. I mean, the issue was obviously me as Carl was running around full of life. Right? We were called in the next day to be told my husband was infertile. Carl was a miracle child from a drunken one night oops. A beautiful, glorious oops but a luck of the draw nonetheless. We were devastated. So we turned to IVF and ICSI. I saved every last penny we had to pay for the medications and the procedure. I worked extra hours and sold anything that we didn’t need. We were to begin treatments in the New Year. Three weeks later we got a call from Carl’s therapist. Things were not well with Carl and his biomom. CPS was called. His teacher contacted us with concerns. We were asked to make changes so Carl’s needs were addressed; his biomother refused to make those changes voluntarily. Every last cent we had went to legal fees. And with that decision to protect the child we already had, we sacrificed the child we may have conceived. Do I regret the decision? Not even remotely. I truly love Carl with all my heart. I cannot imagine loving a biochild any more. Yes, having more children was a dream but we already had one who needed us. There are no guarantees in life. So when do I plan to have children of my own? I have one already. He belongs to my heart. And if God sees fit, we’ll be blessed with another miracle one day. Until then, we’ll love the miracle we have now with everything we’ve got and never let a day pass that we are not thankful for him being in our lives.