What if I don’t want an “Ours Baby?”

This is a question I have been asking myself for the last year or so after years of infertility and even a miscarriage. I question if I am healthy enough to have a child and even more so how would a child change my whole world, especially being a stepmother to an almost teenager already.

This topic is one I know comes up often in our community. I thought I would address it, at least from my point of view. I know every situation is different; this just happens to be my experience.

What if I Don’t Want an “Ours Baby?”

My Story

I am a stepmother to a wonderful almost 12-year-old boy. He is pretty awesome most of the time, when he wants to be. He lives in New York City, NY, while my husband and I live in Dallas, TX.

I love getting to be his stepmom. I was a child of divorced parents and my relationship with my stepdad was rocky at best. I make sure that we create as many memories as we can when we get to have him. We fly a lot back and forth to make sure that happens.

He is even at the stage almost where he can fly on his own without fear. I can’t wait for that day to come. His independence is one of the things I love most about this stage in life.

I came into his life when he was 5 years old. His father hadn’t been able to maintain a great relationship with him in the beginning after he moved from the city. I was a catalyst for making sure my stepson knew he was loved and was supportive as my husband made the long flights back east any chance he could.

Having an Ours Baby

I thought in the beginning, I would do anything to have a child with my husband. I wanted to be able to do the one thing that tied my husband to his ex. I wanted us to be a real family instead of a girl he got pregnant.

I emotionally was wrecked when it didn’t happen for the first couple of years. You see, my husband is tall, like really tall. He is 7 feet tall and people all the time ask me if we have kids. I don’t know why they ask. It’s almost like they are waiting for me to say we have a future NBA star on our hands.

For the longest time, I didn’t know how to respond. I felt like I was claiming a right of passage that wasn’t mine if I said we did, but if I said we didn’t, I would get super sad. I even fought with this idea of maybe I wouldn’t be a good enough mother.

I threw myself into work, and that made more sense at the time. I didn’t give myself a chance to be sorry for what wasn’t happening that I wanted so badly. Five years went by, and I started having panic attacks every time I thought my period was late.

It became this endless cycle of being disappointed every month.

After facing stepmom infertility, what if I don't want an ours baby? I'm a childless stepmom by choice! #oursbaby #stepmomproblems #stepmomlife #stepmom

Making A Conscious Decision

My husband started to see how depressed I became when my period arrived. We talked about being more aggressive with fertility treatments, but then I had a serious conversation with my doctor about a health concern that would harm not only my baby but could kill me as well.

I have a severe blood clotting disorder that could be potentially fatal if I am not monitored closely my entire pregnancy. While thankfully I have never had a clot, my mother started getting clots 6 weeks after I was born. My doctor fears the same thing could happen to me.

We had to have a real conversation. Did I really want to be a mother that bad that I would risk putting my health in danger and potentially the rest of my life? Did I want to continue the cycle of disappointment every month when we were unsuccessful at getting pregnant?

For me, I found I am okay with only ever being some awesome kid’s stepmom. I hope he knows how lucky he is that he gets all of my attention. Maybe later on in life when he makes me a grandma I will get a chance to spoil those kids.

But for now, he is enough. I know that I am here to support and love him no matter what even if that means I don’t get to be someone’s “real” mom.

PS: You’d probably also like Why Being a Stepmom Makes Me Terrified of Having My Own.

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