Sunday, September 19, 2004

family matters

My aunt called this morning. I haven't spoken to her since last Thanksgiving. She's the mother of my cousin who just had a baby. The cousin who wasn't even trying to get pregnant. Or at least, didn't think it would happen so quickly.

My mother finally decided to tell the family about my fertility problems. I guess the birth of my cousin's child, the upcoming reunion at Thanksgiving, and a little talk I had with her when I hung out with her in Boston for a few hours a couple of weeks ago spurred her into action. So she told my grandmother last week and then called my uncle and told him. Hence my aunt's phone call this morning.

It was a shcok to hear from her, but I knew immediately why she was calling. And to her credit, she didn't beat around the bush. "Your uncle told me about what you guys are going through and I just wanted you to know that even though we don't see you that often or talk as often as we should, we love you. We're thinking about you and praying for you. And we're here if you ever want to talk."

It was actually quite perfect what she said. And before she could evem finish offering her support and love for us, I was a mess of tears. She didn't ask about the treatments and I was glad, didn't wonder about a timeline for pregnancy, didn't want details. She just wanted to tell me that she hoped we were okay.

My aunt is adopted like me. And years ago, she was the one person in the family who was willing to talk to me about the possibility of finding my biological parents. In the end, I decided not to, but she had looked up her biological mother as a teenager and was able to tell me about her experience. Was able to understand why it might be important for me to know where I came from.

And today, on the phone, she acknowledged how important it seems to an adopted child to have a biological child of her own. She got it. In a way that even my husband and closest friends can't truly understand. "It doesn't matter how wonderful your parents were, you still want that connection, someone who looks like you."

It was a short conversation, the talk between my aunt and I. She told me a million times how much she loved me. Loves my husband. Told me that she hopes things will work out, and not just work out, but work out the way that we want them to. She didn't say that she knew that they would (a huge pet peeve of mine), but that she just hoped. And she reminded me that if it came down to it, adoption isn't a bad thing. "Look at us," she said, "Look at you. Wonderful things can come from adoption."

She didn't mention my cousin. She didn't talk about her new grandchild. She just wanted to talk about me. About how I'm doing and how she and my uncle are there for me. How I should let them know if I need anything, even if I just need them to back off. And I have to say, it was the exact thing I needed to hear. It was possibly the best conversation I've had about infertility since this whole thing began in June.


Blogger Indigo Wolf said...

It's so nice to get support like that from family. When i told my folks that we'll need a sperm donor, they were pretty cool about but my dad was like, "Well just pray and it will happen for you." I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but oh well. Of course I didn't tell them te real reason why we need a donor but they'd be too freaked out if I did tell them.

10:11 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

How wonderful to have an aunt like that! She sounds lovely.

Anna H.

12:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your aunt sounds damn near perfect.

~Brooklyn Girl

6:41 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

That's so marvelous.
Nice to be reminded that there are such good people out there...

5:47 PM  

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