Just a Squib

If you know me, you know I'm a HUGE Harry Potter fan. I started reading them at age 9 and knew that it was fiction, but I still hoped that just maybe on my 11th birthday I'd get a very special letter delivered by owl. Lo and behold, I never became a Hogwarts student. My love for the series continued despite this fact. I've read the books countless times and my Potter knowledge could rival any trivia competition. I often think about the spells I wish I knew or the magical objects I want to exist in the muggle world.

Initially, a wand is the first magical object that comes to mind. Imagine that feeling when you just plop on the couch after a long day only to realize you left your drink upstairs and the light is still on. "Accio water bottle!" "Nox!" And all is perfect while your feet are still propped up. Apparition is another skill I wish I could learn. I hate driving and long car rides kill my back. If I could just poof and be at my desired destination... think about all that saved time and, better yet, gas money!

Honestly, while a wand or apparition, heck, even a flying broom would be totally bad ass, there is a different kind of magic I'd prefer to have. For me, fertility is like magic. People who can reproduce with ease are true witches and wizards. They have this power that I don't possess. It's incredible! They can grow a human life! No dose of potion is needed to make it happen for them. Some can even do it without trying. For me, I feel like Hermione in the Half-Blood Prince, stirring a cauldron and never getting the potion right despite following the recipe to a T. My efforts are fruitless and end in utter frustration

What do those people have that I don't?! Why were they born with this magic and not me? I hate being a muggle. Perhaps a better term for me is a squib. While both do not possess the power of magic, a muggle is unaware of this deficit. They don't know about the existence of the wizarding world. A squib is person born in a wizarding family, yet can't do magic. They are fully aware it exists. They see every one of their family members or friends cast spells and charms right in front of them. Imagine how that would feel!

The most prominent squib in the Harry Potter series is Mr. Filtch, the grumpy old man that dispite being the caretaker at Hogwarts, hates children. He spends his days trying to punish all the students and seek justice for the pranks they pull on him. He can't really ever do anything about it though because he is limited and the students out magic him every time. Is it any wonder that he is miserable? He grew up hoping he'd get his acceptance letter to Hogwarts just like his other family members, but it never came. Imagine the jealousy. Imagine the self loathing. It's hard to say whether he hated wizards or himself more. Then the poor guy gets a job at a school with young and arrogant students of magic? No wonder his cat, Mrs. Norris, is his only friend. I have a new found sympathy for him

This is how I feel. I am completely aware of my deficits. I think about them every single day. I see people announcing pregnancies, sharing newborn photos, and enjoying all the milestones of their family. Each and every one of those things hurts me. I have built up a tolerance to where I can shrug it off, but sometimes it cuts deep. I can't cast "protego" and sheild myself from everyone else's joy. I can't "obliviate" my traumatic memories and experiences. I can't drink a potion allowing me a dreamless sleep to escape my thoughts even temporarily. Worst of all, I can't magically get pregnant. In the present, it feels like my world is crashing down. I can't see what one week, month, year from now will look like. When I think of the far future, I just hope I don't end up like Filtch. I don't want to hate the world. I don't want to loathe myself and my inabilities. I also don't want to push everyone in my life away to the point where my only friend is a cat.

Unfortunately, infertility is a life sentence. Even if miracles happen in my future, the baggage will stay with me. The pain and loss are part of me now. No time-turner can reverse those effects. My only choice is to continue on. I need to remember the wise words of Albus Dumbledore: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."