"When are you two going to have kids?"

The next time I get asked this question, I think I'm going to respond with, "When are you going to stop?"

My husband and I have been married for close to seven years now, so we are increasingly being asked why we have not "started a family" or when we are going to "start a family." I wonder if it has ever occurred to people that perhaps we are a family, even though we have no children. We make a family, even just the two of us with our little pets.

When we are asked these types of questions, I have a standard set of replies. I point to our busy schedules, the fact that we're still quite young and/or the relative ease of our lives without children, thus allowing us the opportunity to jetset around the county and even the world when we so desire. These replies usually come with a mixed reception. A busy schedule? Well, you're always too busy to have children; you just have to do it! You're young? Yes, this is true. You still have a couple of years...or...the best time is now, while you still have the energy! And, when we mention the fact that we love traveling and that's easier without children, we usually receive a stare that falls somewhere between awe and confusion.

It's very rare I go beyond that. I prefer keeping it as simple as possible, giving just enough to satisfy the general inquiries. However, I have to admit that sometimes I just want to lay it all out and be done with it. When I receive honest questions - simple, mean-no-harm questions, I am okay. But when I am badgered, I really just feel like saying, "Well, I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I'm lucky to get 6 or 7 periods a year; sometimes, I only get 5. Of those periods, I don't necessarily ovulate. And, well, we haven't used any form of protection in over five years, but I still haven't gotten pregnant, obviously. Minus that one terrible miscarriage in 2005. Oh, and did I mention we also have a possible issue with male infertility as well? Yeah, basically we just can't seem to make a baby, but thanks for asking!"

I spent a lot - a lot - of time obsessing over the possibility of being a mother. When I got married at a young age, I assumed I'd finish my bachelor's degree and become a mom immediately thereafter. Funny how life gets in the way of one's plans for life. We built a home, and I knew precisely which room the nursery was going to be; I figured which type of closet would be best, the wall the large window would be on, and the area of the house. I had a dresser put in the closet, waiting for that baby to come, so I could fill the white drawers with adorable little clothes. I kept a box full of yellow decorations and a tiny pair of white tennis shoes that I could not resist buying. After all, I was a married woman - of course I was going to have a baby.

But, well, the months dragged on. My health continued to spiral out of control (a very long story I will have to describe in a future post), and I proceeded with my education and assisting my husband in our business (which I will not describe here, at least at this point. Privacy and such). It has been five years since the miscarriage. In that time, I've received a Bachelor's and a Master's, worked full time in our business, traveled in and around Australia three times, visited several U.S. locations, read about a million books, gotten my health under control, etc. etc...but no baby.

Last week, I sold the white dresser and packed the yellow items away, probably not to see the light of day until we someday move. When people ask me if I want children, I usually reply with, "Well, my life is pretty great right now. If it happens, I'll be ecstatic. If it doesn't, I know my life is complete now." As hard as it is to swallow, I know that's the truth. Most days, I have come to terms with my infertility. I have a fabulous life. I love traveling, I love sleeping in late and going to bed at 4am, because it doesn't matter when you don't have kids. I love going out to eat at the drop of a hat, reading a book in total peace and having plenty of alone time.

I think the truth of it is that I had a huge, gaping, bleeding open wound over my infertility for a really long time. I craved that nursery; I craved a child. I craved sleepless nights, sweet pink dresses and little baseball caps; I craved watching my child grow, taking them to gymnastics, watching them learn to play the piano. Truly, I craved being a mother.

At some point, I had to stitch the wound and let a deep scar form. I couldn't keep bleeding; it simply hurt too much. If I ever have a baby, I will be thrilled. I will do my best to be as good of a mom as I can possibly be. But if that never happens, I have set myself in a position where I have learned to find fulfillment in other things, because that is all I can do. I am very happy, most of the time. Like with anyone in this life, I have my moments. We all do. But I cannot dwell on that; I must move on. I must continue to do what I love and find peace in that.

I suppose as a food for thought, I simply wish people would not find it in their business to ask such personal questions of someone, or at least ask only once. I wish they would not say, "just adopt"; the loss of one's ability to conceive is not replaceable by "just adopting." Above all, I wish people would stop thinking I am somehow incomplete and without a family, because I have no children. If this is how God made me, then this is my family.

I'm really grateful for the opportunities I have had without children. I cannot just be bitter all day long. I've been able to obtain a Master's! We have had relative financial stability. We have had fun together, and a great time working on our relationship. And, of course, we have travel. I know a lot of family and friends who are pregnant or have recently had children...but, we're going to D.C. next week. That's just where my life is right now. Travel. Exploration. I may not create life, but I am learning to absorb it.