I came across this today: and it really got me thinking about what type of parent I would make if we ever get a living baby one day, and also (and perhaps more importantly), what sort of child/baby carer I make now.
I have all these grand ideals about parenthood: and lists of things I would like to do with my kids. I always wonder about what sort of parent I will be outside the the realm of 'religion', and with the added confusion and intensity that infertility invariably adds.
However, I often forget that I am blessed with the very real experiences of pseudo-parenting right now. I care for children/babies on a daily basis. I know all too well the trials of a screaming, teething toddler, and the frustrations of a child whom has an attitude and knows all too well how to use it!
Without a doubt, though, infertility has definitely impacted the way I care for these children/babies. I enjoy them far more, and have really learned the value of patience. I treasure my time with them, although it means that my return to my empty home is all the more difficult. Each time I spend with them is special, regardless of how much time I have spent with them previously, or how many time I have sung that nursery rhyme or rocked another baby that very same way. Like a spice added to a bland, predictable dish, infertility now hums (and sometimes roars) its song through the melody that is my life and my life with the children I care for.
For all of that, infertility is still unwelcome here.