Unsolicited Pregnancy/Child Advice

I recently received a PM from a newer forum member. Unprompted. I didn’t PM her. We didn’t exchange any form of words in a thread. I hadn’t seen her name until this evening. In it was this paragraph:

I predicted another mom was gonna have two kids…and um…she is going to. So for you, you may think I’m a complete wack…and well…ok…I might be…tee hee. I think I’m a wakko too…so you’re not alone. I think you are gonna give birth to another child. You are gonna raise a little girl. FOR SURE. She might be yours and your J’s but she also might be adopted. ( I know you are cringing) but from a situation like mine….foster care or another country. I really believe you will be pregnant and give birth to a beautiful daughter, but you may also be called to adopt. From another country or foster care. I might be wrong…and sorry. Read my blog and you will know I’m super cool and majorly harmless. But I really feel your pain. Like a big sis….I feel it. And I want you to know you have to believe there are little ones coming to you.

There are some things you don’t need to hear at certain junctures in your life. And there are certain things you do need to hear at certain junctures in your life. But when they’re both contained in the same small message, all you can hear is the one that you didn’t want to hear.

As I face these newer, less-fun reproductive issues, my mind is on over-drive. My pelvic was ultrasound today. (Side Note: My kidney filtration rate is WAY down. Over 100 ounces of water and my bladder still wasn’t filling properly. Great. Another issue.) As I figured, the ultrasound tech wasn’t able to tell me anything about the pictures that she took. I didn’t see any aliens on the screen so I take that as a good sign. I don’t know much about ultrasounds of ovaries and the only things I know about ultrasounds of a uterus usually contain a baby. (Though, I’m great with renal ultrasounds.) There was no gasping or audible cussing. My doctor didn’t call me this evening to tell me to get my rear end to the emergency room. So, I’m now “looking forward” to my surgery. By “looking forward,” I mean emotionally dreading.

I know people mean well. It’s like telling a family waiting to adopt a child, “Oh, you’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt!” It’s not what you need to hear. Nor what you want to hear. Right now, I don’t want to hear the word “daughter” in aspect to my parenting life. I don’t want to hear that I’ll adopt. I don’t want to hear the word pregnancy unless my doctor is telling me that I am, in fact, pregnant. I want this precise stage in my life to be over. Yesterday. I also want a new kidney. But it’s not happening.

So, my advice: just be thoughtful in what unsolicited advice you offer to people that you don’t know from Eve. I am not in a place where I want to think about the fact that, in reality, I may never parent a daughter. I am not in the place where I want to think about not having another pregnancy. I am not in the place where I want to think about adopting any child; domestic, foster or internationally. I want to get over this second cold. I want the surgery to be over. I want the leaves to turn orange and red. I want to celebrate my Son’s birthday. And I want two lines on a pregnancy test. In that order.

Until then, I will indulge in some self-torture and listen to “Daughters” by John Mayer. On freaking repeat.