• Adria Ellis

The Invisible Conception, Part 2


“You are running out of time, you need to make a choice!”

I could have screamed, I felt the bile rise up in my throat as I looked at him not knowing who this man was standing in front of me. Then the words came flooding up and out, the resentment was unstoppable,

“I made a choice! I left my life in Canada and trusted the promise you offered me, nine months ago!

How can you say that I have to make a choice, that I have to do something different so that I don’t miss out on having a child?!

You tore at my healing scab when you promised me that I could trust your word, that you wouldn’t change your mind, that you were going to give me a child!

You were the one who convinced me to leave my business in Canada, my home, my friends and to trust you. To trust the promise of having a family together!

I chose this dream, I moved to Australia, and then, you changed your mind!!!

You pulled the rug out from under me! How dare you tell me to choose what I want – I chose four months ago when I flew over here!”

“You have choices, stop playing the victim.” he said, “You are 41, you have to stop wasting your time. You could have had a child at any time over the last 20 years. I even offered you a child when we were together nine years ago, but you weren’t ready, and you left Australia! So stop blaming me.”

It was like the dagger in the pit of my stomach was twisted and the grief that never fully heals from my earlier miscarriages, bubbled up and gripped my throat. I was silenced by my own feelings of failure. Another lost dream

tore at my heart.

I wanted to blame him with every cell in my body. I wanted him to be the one at fault. I wanted him to beg on his knees for me to forgive him. But then where would my power be. How then am I creating my life? If he is to blame, then I would only recreate the same story again in my life. The same abandonment, loss, disappointment and betrayal I have known again and again, since I was 10 years old. I am angry at him, because his action is proving beliefs I have about my life, and nothing hurts more then looking head-on into the face of our darkest inner beliefs. But I wasn’t ready to even consider forgiving him in the moment. My adrenals were on high alert and I could feel my skin shrink under the anger I felt for him.

He continued, “You should find yourself a donor. Try something different, do something to change your story.” I looked at him in shock.

“I was the one who flew out to Australia after five months of you promising me the world!”, my words spat accusingly at him, “What did you have to do to prove your commitment to this?”

In May 2016, a few months after his marriage failed, he called to invite me to have a child with him. The offer tore the Band-Aid from my womb and returned hope once again. We had been together nine years ago and had remained friends. His original offer was to be a donor so I could remain in my cabin in the woods and he would send child support. Why? Because he wanted another child in the world, and wanted me to be the mother, knowing the struggle I had gone through with my last pregnancies.

What he really wanted though, was to reunite as lovers, as partners and as a family, and I soon admitted that this was a bigger dream to me then being a single mother. I took a leap of faith and launched myself across the world, stepping courageously towards our dreams. I navigated through my anxieties, and chose to step towards him, and try once again to create a family, despite my fears.

I was not expecting to meet his resistance within weeks of arriving. I was not anticipating him to change his mind and retract his offer. Rather then leave him once the original offer was off the table, I instead waited for the man I knew ten years ago to return to me. I waited for him, navigating through his moods and his rejection, and in spite of myself I grasped for the reigns of his promise as I lost control of life.

He looked towards me after staring blankly at the wall, “You don’t know who you are any more and you are being so needy” he chimed at me.

“I am not needy, I have needs!” I barked back. “You promised me a child!”. And the grief from my lost pregnancies, returned to wash my breath away and cascade as a flood of tears down my face.

Some days I have a hard time not feeling like the victim. I feel hard done by, betrayed and lost.

He made choices that have hurt my trust, but is he to blame for how I am hurting? When I am aligned I can see that my hurt is my own suffering in reaction to his actions, my own attachment to a dream that was greater than my Self. As I walk away from him, I am re-grieving my lost pregnancies and the residual betrayal I feel from the universe, and maybe even the shards of self-blame I still touch up against.

“ I guess we have different wants now?” I asked, still hoping he would admit he ahas made a mistake.

“I’ve told you Adria, I don’t want partnership, I don’t want you to be a part of my daughters family unit, and I don’t want to have a child with you anymore. I just want to focus on me. I am sorry.”

Am I as equal to blame? My ego is reeling from this last sentence, begging me to delete it. Why would I want to admit to the world that I may have co-created my own suffering?

I kept choosing to stay in the relationship, despite my feeling hurt or let down. I refused to believe I could be so close to my dream and have it retracted. Alas, did I truly believe that I could have my dream come true? Or, was I actively searching for what was wrong, proving that men cant be trusted, finding evidence of abandonment and betrayal, and denying my own value. I don’t know how fully I believe that we create our own reality, but in the seat of my current grief I am hoping to step into the courage to explore this idea that I may be choosing a life based on beliefs and subconscious fears rather then on love.

After nine months of a rollercoaster with this man, maybe what was birthed was not the promised family, but instead my self worth. Perhaps this whole journey was an opportunity to take me in my own arms and choose my Self above all else, and break the pattern of displaced loyalty outside me. I want to claim this as truth, but as I write this I feel a part of me retract from forgiveness and acceptance, wanting instead to point the finger at him, and yell at God for the deception I feel.

The intensity of my reaction is proportional to my own wounding. My wounding is proportional to how far I lean into and lose myself in relationship, and the leaning in beyond my self-worth, has resulted in me falling flat on my face. I am the victim to the attachment to what “could have been”.

Once again I am stepping out into the world as a single woman, child free. He is right; I do have to make a choice. I need to either accept that I am child free, or evaluate my options again at conceiving if that is what I truly want to pursue. But for now, I need to gift myself time to not decide. I need to align with my self, to center after these last nine months, and birth into a new self-actualization that can choose a life of love and trust in my self. Perhaps there are gifts in this journey beyond my imagining, perhaps this journey has been a catalyst, and perhaps it is up to me to decide and chose what flowers to plant in the compost of this experience.

I am grieving the loss of this dream, of this promised family, of my life, as I knew it nine months ago, and the lost pregnancies from before. Last night however, when the tears stopped, I found myself calling out to my spirit babies. In my minds eye, I invited them into my bed and wrapped my arms around them. I leant in to the love I feel for them, and their love for me. I held them in my heart and the grief eased, my breath deepened, I felt myself heart soften as I chose to trust in the dance of life, and together we fell asleep.


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