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I should remind myself of that more often. It�s weird, it�s like the older a day gets, the easier it is to lose control and spiral down into the darkness just as the day does. Late last night as I sat with one dog on either side of me for comfort, I was wondering just where The Boy and I were going to go from here. The wondering soon led to worrying and the worrying to the beginnings of an anxiety attack, so I forced myself to stop thinking about it until today.

This morning, I felt stronger and more able to consider my options. I immediately set aside the high-risk choices such as surrogacy and baby-snatching (oh come one, you knew I wasn�t really going to resort to that, didn�t you?) and concentrated on what was left, which really isn�t much when your own body has decided to mutiny. Childlessness (or, as I�ve heard it called, Selfish or Child Free Baby Hater), foster parenting, adoption or more IVF (and there�s still only a 30% chance at the high end). And I think I�ve come to a decision.

One of my Christmas gifts to The Boy is that I will now talk about adoption.

Right from the start, I�ve been answering �No� on questionnaires and in interviews whenever that question reared its ugly head. While I realize there�s absolutely nothing wrong with fostering and adoption, for that period of time I needed to believe 100% that I would, with the help of the latest in technology, be able to conceive and carry a child on my own. And I believed that it was only a matter of time until people were disregarding my personal space and rubbing my belly like I was a redheaded Buddha. Truth be told, I was sort of looking forward to it, although my sister assured me once it started to happen I would feel like an object and probably start wanting to mentally swat those hands away.

I have no idea what the situation in this province is on wait times, but I do know that I am now okay with putting us on a list. Surprisingly okay, really. I had no idea how relieved I would feel knowing that I have this as a fall-back position, since before yesterday it wasn�t even a consideration. The Boy wants kids and other than packing a bag and letting him get on with life with a fertile woman, adoption is now our only path. Now I only have to grapple with the feeling that I want to wait for an infant, an unformed little person who will only know us as their parental figures.

Fingers crossed that The Boy sees my present as a present and not as a ruination of his holiday and a remembrance of what will never be at this time every year.

Posted at 11:35 a.m.