Based on EDD’s (estimated due dates), I should have an almost 4 year old (in Oct), a 3 year old (next week), a 2 year old (in less than a month), and an 8 month old (tomorrow).
I hate July. It’s one of those months that provides a strong reminder of what I’m not allowed to have for whatever reason. I know we’re working toward adoption, ever-so-slowly, but it’s not the same.
Do I doubt that I’ll love the adopted child any less? Not at all. I’ve always wanted to adopt. In fact, I wanted to adopt LONG before I decided I wanted biological children. It’s more the fact of knowing that my genes will never be carried on, nor will my husband’s. I will never create a life that gets to live outside of my womb. I will never feel a baby kick inside me. I won’t feel those first bouts of the hiccups. I’ll never have my water break. There are just so many things you cannot do with an adopted child that you could with a biological child during those first 9 months of the baby’s existence. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss that.