Sometimes I wonder if I lack passion in my life.
Take the use of donor eggs for example. I didn’t have a second pause that I can’t have my own biological children. For me there was no grieving process, all I thought was, “ok, show me a list of donors.” I didn’t have to have an exact match of my genetics or heritage. All I cared about was that the donor was taller, college educated and had a sort of match in our coloring. Perhaps that is because with 4 siblings, I realize that biological children don’t necessarily resemble the parents. but I’m not angry or sad about the use of DE (the only thing I don’t like is the cost).
Fast forward to my pregnancy…I knew right away I would not have a vaginal birth. I had a myloectomy in 2008 (basically the same as a C section) and with my two back surgeries, they aren’t going to let me push. You know what, it doesn’t bother me a bit. No one I’ve met with would even consider it an option nor do we. Yet, I am not upset. I am relieved. I’m 41 and high risk enough as is it. Why make a risky situation potentially worse?
Now I will confess that I am hoping to breast feed. But I realize it is tough to exclusively BF two. So I suspect I’ll BF and supplement and that is fine. If I can’t BF, I’ll be disappointed but that is fine, too.
Is there something wrong with me? I feel almost apathetic. Maybe I should be more passionate about these big decisions? I am more passionate that I don’t want my babies overwhelmed with stuff (we have a small house). We did our first trip to Babies R Us which wasn’t too overwhelming. I am a total ease of burden person. We are going with the smallest profile stroller possible, and ordering the twin weego (carrier). As for cribs, they can share until they are a year. We are liking a black diaper bag that makes us both feel comfortable carrying it and MO2 (who has L & D experience) has rejected all the fancy swaddle blankets and is aiming for plain receiving blankets so he can practice baby origami.
But I feel like there is something missing…let me know if I’m slacking.