What do you call it??

I keep feeling the need to have a specific term for my child-bearing situation. The "I can't have any more children" statement is too vague and gives false implications. It makes it sound like I have physically lost my fertility or my ability to conceive. Though I don't get pregnant quickly, I am still very much able to... I just shouldn't. I'm just too high risk to safely carry.

It seems cumbersome to state "I've been medically advised not to have more children." That leaves too much room for questioning. And way way too much room for people to insist other possibilities that involve me having another baby under the care of other specialists or after more testing. This is bothersome because I have a hard enough time accepting the reality, and I don't need anyone feeding me false possibilities. If it were possible to safely have another baby, I would not have been advised not to have any more. My doctors, my husband, and I know much more about my case than anyone else. So their suggestions really are unnecessary.

In a way, I feel like I have some sort of infertility issue. My body can conceive but it cannot carry a baby to term. The placenta always fails and forms clots and infarctions. My babies literally begin to have their blood flow and nutrients cut off from them... and in Avery's case, completely cut off. :( I researched the types of infertility and it all seems to refer to the ability to get pregnant at all. Even though the terms don't fit by definition, I feel like I identify with it... possibly secondary infertility... in that my body does not allow me to have a baby (after having one) and I wish so desperately that it could.

I'm not sure why I feel the need to have a medical term for this. Maybe I just don't want to have to explain things. I know as Jude gets older, people who are ignorant enough to somehow not know what's going on in my life (and those damn nosey strangers) will be giving me the "it's time for another one, eh?!" comments. I'm aware that I could just chuckle (while I die inside) and brush off the comment, especially with a stranger, but on the other hand, it really annoys me that people think they can just say whatever they want, and treat sacred, potentially tender topics so cavalierly. Not every supposed typical life event is very typical for everyone. Sometimes I like to make people aware that they need to be more sensitive and more careful with their words, though it can be awkward. I'm never rude or insulting, just honest. So if I get asked anytime soon when we're going to have baby number three (oh, they better not say number two), I may have to be honest and give them that long-winded answer about being medically advised blah blah blah...

And that's when it would be easier to have a simple term. Like if I had an answer like "I got my tubes tied" or "I'm battling infertility"or anything else that would clearly imply no more babies, the nosey questioner wouldn't prod any further. If I lied and said we don't want any more children, I may get a barrage of questions about why we don't. That would just be a huge mess, especially since I desperately do. I have learned that people can be crazy and there is no limit as to what may come out of their mouths.

Maybe I dwell on things too much. As I lay in bed alone at night while my husband is at work, trying to fall asleep. As my only living child sleeps quietly in the Pack N Play next to my bed, I think and I think. I prop myself up on one elbow and peer over at Jude, lightly illuminated by the TV playing One Tree Hill episodes on Netflix because I'm too scared to sleep in the dark. I watch him until I'm sure I can see him breathing, and then I lay back down to try drifting off again. In all of these moments, I ponder things I shouldn't even think about. I try to name my situation, as if giving it an official title makes me less of a freak of nature and more of a normal occurrence in medical history.

I guess I want to wrap all of this anguish and devastation up into a tidy little box and not have to rummage through it and unpack its contents every time someone blindsides me with an overly personal question. If I could just instead point to the label on the box, they would know what I have to endure and leave it at that, without offering me medical advice or trying to talk me out of the blatant evidence I have about my own body. Even if this all just seems silly, it would just be easier. And in these situations, easy is something I could use a bit of.