A Complete Family (?)

So just when I think my psyche is calming down, that the waters are beginning
the descent from killer swells to a low tide, someone says something.  That little
side remark, not directed at or towards me in any way.  But someone says something,
and it just hits home.  It hits right where it hurts.

That's when the panic sets in, that's when I get that tight feeling in my chest,
that bubble in the pit of my stomach. And the bubble turns into a knot, and that
tight feeling in my chest becomes a pinch.  Then the pinch turns into a brick. And
then I'm sitting here, stuck in my head, which feels like it's spinning out of
control all poltergeist-style and I don't even know how to react.  So I just sit
here, stuck inside my head.  Not even trying to get out, just, dwelling on it.

"Do you feel like our family is complete?"

Reading an old blog, from a new blogger (new to me).  His wife asks him this
question.  If he feels like their family is complete, with just one child.  And it
hurts.  I have Ladybug.  And I have Mark. And in a sense, Mark has Ladybug.  I
don't have a "step child".  I don't have a point of reference for how he may feel
about the concept that she may very well be the closest thing to "his" that he may
ever have.  I don't think that I would be able to say "Yes, a step-child is enough.
I'm okay with not ever having my OWN child."

So now we're faced with the possibility that we can't have kids.  Not because he
can't have kids, or because I can't have kids, but because we could basically be
genetically incompatible.  That any child we try to bring into this world will
be plagued with Spinal Muscular Atrophy.  That, even if it doesn't occur in the
womb, that at any point during this child's life, he/she could have this
dibilitating disease that will ruin his/her life at some point, and eventually
kill him/her.  This is a terminal illness.  There is no cure.  There is no slowing
it down.

This means, he could have children.  But he may not be able to have children with
me.  And this hurts me.  And I can't imagine that this doesn't hurt him.  I cannot
fathom that he is actually okay with this!  I know he wants children, we wanted a
child (despite how unprepared we actually were for it) whenever we got pregnant
with Butterfly.  And we wanted a child while we were pregnant with Butterfly.  And
every morning I wake up knowing that we should have a child now.  A 6 month old
infant should be sleeping in a nursery just outside of our bedroom door.  An infant
who would be chubby cheeked with a full head of dark hair and those bright blue
eyes, just like her daddy.  She would be turning over and learning to sit up by
herself.  She would coo and ahh at us while we played on the floor during tummy
time.  And I go to sleep praying to God that we have that opportunity again.  But
I know that sometimes things don't always work out the way you want them too, and
that Mark and I may never get the chance to have our own precious little baby to
ooh and aah over.

I've had that before, and I will cherish those memories for as long as I am able
to.  And I know that even before I got pregnant with Ladybug, I longed for that.
And Mark - my God, if ever there were a man to be an amazing father it would be
him.  He was made for it.  He's calm and level-headed and gentle and incredibly,
amazingly loving and passionate and just so wonderful.  He deserves the chance
to be a dad.  And yes, he is Aleigh's step-dad (for all intents and purposes), and
he does not take that job lightly.  He treats my daughter the way he would if she
were his child, and this lifts my heart and warms my soul, really.  But I'm so
sad, for me and for him.  Together, and individually.  He deserved a child.  I'm
scared that one day, he will realize, no, no our family is not complete.  Our
family cannot be complete, because we can't have a child together.  Because he
can't share his genetics with a little bubbly bundle of happiness with me.  Or
simply because he can't enjoy that peaceful quiet warm time when babies are all
smiles and giggles and hugs, when it's finger-holding and diaper changing.  He
missed all of that with Ladybug.  She was already so smart and talkative and
independant.  She was nearly 3 when Mark and I got together.  Little, yes.  But
not a baby, not a helpless infant.  And that's such a magical amazing wonderful
time...

I want another baby.  I have got baby fever like nobody's business, and it is
a physical pain when I think too much about it.  And then I think, toss caution to
the wind and try again, but then I realize how selfish and stupid it is to think
that way.  But damnit, I want a baby!!! And I have a baby, and she is and always
will be enough, but it's human nature to want.  If I didn't have Ladybug as my own
little genetic mini-me, I would be stir-crazy at the idea of "No- Sheila- You will
never have a child of your own."  Maybe Mark is just that much better of a person
than me.  Maybe he really can handle it.  Maybe there are options, and maybe one
day we will be blessed with some fantastic opportunity to raise up a child of our
own.  It's just hard to be optimistic about this, with everything that has
happened recently.  With everything we have been through.

And that's why I'm stuck in my head.  Wanting to ask him, but not knowing if I'm
going to want the answer, or if one day the answer will change when he's older and
realizes that he's changed.

"Do you feel like our family is complete?"
"Is this good enough?"