On Bachelors and Babies

Does anyone else think AshLee's profuse, continual expression of letting go, relinquishing control, and experiencing true love with "this man" Sean, was in fact a form of controlling behavior? I really like her. But the way she behaved (can you say, daggers shooting from the eyes?) when he gave her the ole' heave ho made me think she was using her profession of unwavering trust (knowing he was still dating other women, and there were the simple, pesky odds to contend with)  to manipulate him all along. In other words, Sean, you are my all-that-is-man superhero. You better not break my heart because I'm an injured soul, a delicate flower with a troubled past and I've given you my trust, which is saying a lot. I don't know, it's only my impression. But I do think she would make a lovely Bachelorette. Just don't tick her off, or if you do, blindfold her so her eyes don't use you for target practice...

Yep, I just admitted I sometimes watch trashy television. Judge me if you'd like. This show honestly  makes me all kinds of crazy about my husband, so I affectionately label it marriage enhancement. But that's another story... 
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This morning, I arose at the break of darkness to get the flock ready for school-for-homeschoolers, took off in the van with them in tow, only to turn around and come back home when my daughter suddenly became, um, sick to her stomach. Oh my. That hasn't happened to us in a long time. Big kids are better at knowing when the subject is coming up, you know? The experience reminded me so much of having babies. How I wish I had an unpredictably vomitous baby to care for!

Speaking of babies, facebook is the land of fertility, have you noticed? It seems every day there are 1 or 2 or 255 announcements made regarding either the conception or birth of a new little sweet smelling bundle of joy, documented with pictures of ultra sounds and tiny scrunched up faces underneath the softest feathery hair you ever did see (or no hair at all!). Truth be told, after all this time, I still mourn. Some days (months) are better than others. It seems I just can not quite move all the way past the notion that miracles do indeed happen, and perhaps I might have the opportunity to be blessed with just a small one. Infertility is the gift that keeps on giving, every month another chance arises for a fresh bit of grief to settle in and make itself at home. Then, acceptance follows coupled with gratitude for all that I have and finally, the resolve to move on. Repeat. Again and again.

It's that dastardly hope that really gets me. The flicker of the most minuscule glimmer of possibility that is always there, in the back of my mind, wishing, praying, daydreaming about the extensive rejoicing that would follow the good news that Dear Aunt Flo has decided to take a sabbatical. I ask myself, when we had the most sacred gift of procreation at our fingertips, when it came so easily (before we made that dreadful decision) did I properly appreciate the infinite preciousness and precarious nature of it? It has all given me such compassion for those want to, but have not, will not, be able to bear a child and the pain they endure, because it's all so impossibly impossible to escape. Every.where.you.look. there are babies.
My    heart    breaks    for    those    couples.

So, Bobby and I have been talking and we (ok...I...and him too, mostly because of me) really would like to foster a baby. Plans are in the works. Not too soon, there's plenty to do for now. But one happy, happy day, if I could be so blessed, a little one will vomit in my van and I will clean it up with deep giddy gladness, not because I'm a fan of upchuck, but because of the joy that child's mere presence will bring.

Have I mentioned my husband is The Man for being willing to do such a thing? He is so, so wonderful with other people's kids. No joke. We babysit some wee ones every weekend and I am continuously amazed at how fantastic he is with those boys. Observing him in action, with children, even ones that are not his own, is so utterly endearing. I can not even tell you how much good it does my marriage, because it causes me to so appreciate his particular set of strengths. Except to say that it almost equals watching The Bachelor...