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Why I No Longer Want a Biological Child

I used to think I would never stop yearning to be pregnant. That no matter what else happened or how I found my way to motherhood, the desire to carry a baby beneath my heart would never go away.

And to an extent, that has remained true. I still catch my breath sometimes when talking to pregnant women, swallowing my curiosity and jealousy away. I still wish I could have been the one to carry my daughter. And there will probably always be part of me that wonders what it would be like—what I may have missed out on.

RELATED: What Not to Say to an Adoptive Mom

But since adopting my little girl, that yearning has been mostly replaced by a different feeling: a fear of what it would mean to have a biological baby now.

I didn’t start really thinking about this until I began dating again. And even then, it has been a thought mostly detained in the back of my mind. The likelihood of me ever getting pregnant is very, very small. After five abdominal surgeries, I have only one tube left—and it is pretty mangled and marred. My right ovary is basically non-existent, and my left is fused to my pelvic wall beneath layers of scar tissue. Endometriosis has made my womb an inhospitable environment, and there is reason to believe I am plagued with natural killer cells—the best explanation for why my two IVF cycles failed.

A doctor once told me that a woman religiously taking birth control pills and sleeping with a man who never forgot to wear a condom would have a better chance of getting pregnant than me. So most days, I move forward with the belief that it will never happen, and therefore a second child isn’t something to even concern myself with.

It’s not me I would worry about if I somehow miraculously got pregnant. It’s my daughter.

But like I said, then I started dating and contemplating a sex life once more (which, for the record, has still remained fairly stagnant, but a girl can dream). With that, the question of “what if” suddenly pushed its way into my head—a question that, surprisingly, left me feeling a fair amount of panic. Because I realized, I wouldn’t want to be pregnant now.

I wouldn’t want a biological baby.

The reason might surprise you. It isn’t because I am still single or because of monetary concerns. Sure, those factors would come into play, and I do plan on waiting until I have a partner in my life before adding any further to our family. But the reality is that I want more children, and so I would make it work if something crazy happened.

It’s not me I would worry about if I somehow miraculously got pregnant. It’s my daughter.

I'd never thought much about this before. When I was first told I would likely have trouble conceiving, I assumed I would work toward a pregnancy in order to have that experience, but that I would then turn to adoption to further expand my family. I figured I would have both adopted and biological children in my life.

But then my daughter came first. And raising her has made me wonder how she might feel, if she had siblings who shared a genetic connection to me that she did not.

And suddenly, it seemed like a terrible idea, like something that might make her feel left out or less wanted, leaving her feeling like the adopted child, rather than just my child.

I am so fiercely protective of my girl, and so completely swelled with love for her, I would never want to do anything that could potentially cause her harm or additional confusion in terms of what it means to be adopted. I would never want her to feel any less wanted or valued than she is. And my fear has become that a biological child would somehow accomplish just that.

If a guy has his heart set on a bio baby, I’m not the woman for him. Because I won’t do it. I won’t put myself through that process again.

I used to think that as opposed as I was to ever pursuing fertility treatments again, if I met a man who desperately wanted biological children—I would probably be willing to try once more. If only for him. But now, it’s a deal-breaker. If a guy has his heart set on a bio baby, I’m not the woman for him. Because I won’t do it. I won’t put myself through that process again, both because it damn near destroyed me the last time, and because I would never want my girl to think that a bio baby was worth all that pain and sacrifice, when she is right here proving to me every single day that love has nothing to do with blood.

I realize this is a crazy thing to worry about. I’m not sleeping with anyone now, and I have no intention of ever pursuing fertility treatments again. I might as well be menopausal for how busted my lady bits are. But it’s one of those weird thoughts that pops into my head every now and again: the realization that I no longer want a bio baby.

I know that there are families who make this work, but did they ever have similar worries or fears? And how do they make it work? How do they bypass those potential concerns?

I’m hopeful there are more children in my future. That my girl will have siblings, and I will get the chance to be “mommy” to at least one more little one. But I can’t shake the feeling that adoption is the only way to go for us now. That I wouldn’t want a pregnancy, even if one could somehow be guaranteed.

RELATED: Weighing the Options Between Adoption and Surrogacy

Am I the only adoptive mama who has ever felt this way?

Or is this a normal concern that comes with wanting to do our best to protect our children—even when it means sacrificing something we once believed we would always want?

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