Closure

I have talked about closure in the past.  How even after having three healthy girls.  Saying we were done adding to our family.  Taking permanent measures to make sure there would be no unexpected pregnancies (and I still find that notion so bizarre.  That we would have ever been capable of an unexpected pregnancy).  How, even after Craig had his vasectomy, I was sad.

There was no closure for me.

I accepted things.  The cards we had been dealt.  That there was a greater plan out there for me and it included infertility, miscarriage, assisted reproduction, years of trying, negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test and tears.  Lots of tears.  I accepted it and after Quinn was born, I accepted the fact that we were done with childbearing and that there would be no more pregnancy sticks.  No more swollen bellies or ultrasounds.  No more heartbeats to find on my abdomen.  No more newborns, first words, first steps or first birthdays.

I don’t know if infertility robbed me of my closure.  In a way I feel that it did.  I know nothing else but infertility and inside I believe that if not for infertility I would have had a great sense of closure after the birth of Quinn.  Knowing that we had our little family and three children would be it for us.  Infertility robbed me of many things and I believe closure is one of them.

A few weeks ago, I had a dream.  I was very pregnant and very much in labour.  My sister was in the room with me.  Craig was not.  I don’t know where he was but both my sister and I were trying to reach him and get him a message to hurry up and get there.  I was standing beside the bed and immediately fell to the floor with a contraction and the desire to push.  I’ve never made it to the pushing stage in any of my pregnancies but this was so real to me.  Even now, I can’t believe it was a dream.

Craig did not arrive in time but with my sister by my side, I delivered (naturally) a beautiful baby boy.  Even upon waking, I was so sure that dream was real.  About a week later, on our way to Edmonton, my Aunt told me about a dream she had about me.  She said she had a dream that I had a baby boy.  I immediately told her that I too had just had that same dream.

I know my own early pregnancy symptoms.  I get extremely tired and extremely bloated.  Bloated to the point that my clothing gets tight (so tight, I can’t wear my pants) over night.  So a week or so ago, when this happened to me and I found myself wearing yoga pants around the clock and my loose-fitting underwear. Skirts without zippers and loose-fitting pants, my heart leaped and I started to panic.  I told Craig about my symptoms and even though he won’t admit it, I know that deep inside he was panicking too.  Despite the permanent measures to make sure this very thing doesn’t happen, we were both wide-eyed at the symptoms that I was experiencing.

So.  I do what I do best.  I bought a home pregnancy test and I peed on a stick.  Twice.  Then I sighed a huge sigh of relief when it was negative.  Twice.

And that, my friends, is closure.