Adoption is a touchy and tense subject with my husband. It has come up on occasion after Daniella died and the transabdominal cerclage (TAC) became our only option for me. I want him to agree to adoption if having biological children is something that just won’t happen to us. I tell him that I don’t quite know if I am willing to have the TAC placed if he won’t go through with an adoption if all else fails. I assure him that I will do EVERYTHING I can to have a child, and his agreeing to adoption won’t take away my momentum, but instead give me an assurance that I will somehow be a mom. He does not want to adopt because he does not think he is willing to make the same sacrifices for a child that is not his, as he would for his own child. Doing a TAC is a highly invasive procedure – yet another one I will have to endure. What is he willing to do to have a child? If he is sooooooo wanting to have a baby, why was it that I was the one that did all the TAC research? Why was I the one to find Dr. Miracle and book the appointment? After I bitched calmly laid out my thoughts he relents to adoption…through gritted teeth of course. I remind him on how much he loves BigSexy’s daughter…what if she would have been placed in our arms at birth? He would love her to pieces even if she were not ours. Only then does his stance soften. Needless to say more discussion is to be had on this subject if adoption somehow lends itself to be our only option.
Another reason I bitch? I want to move down to Georgia where my family is because his family sucks. When we were first married I wanted us to move and he worked to change my mind. He convinced me that his family would be there should we need them and that he had a good paying job and good friends here. He was wrong about the first one because (once again) his family sucks.
The adoption and moving discussion have caused strife whenever they come up, but this last time we were livid. That same night Big Sexy and Mr. Diplomat took me out to dinner so that I could bitch and vent The moment I got in their car, it was “Hello”, followed by “bi.tch”, “bit.ch”, “b.itch”…. Once at the restaurant I felt better after a mojito and dinner and of course wonderful freinds that listen and care (and don’t want us to move).
Big Sexy and Mr. Diplomat offered to come over this last Saturday so that the four of us could sit down and talk openly about these issues. But it didn’t happen. Last Saturday I woke up in his loving embrace and we made love and watched the news and had coffee in bed. Then we hung out at the bookstore and things were just so wonderful the rest of that splendid day. So when our friends arrived that evening I gave them a knowing look. Maybe we’ll chat another night but not this one, and they understood. We played piction.ary instead.