Where am I?

I used to pride myself on knowing who I was and where I stood. I was a constant. I wasn't swayed by peer pressure or the things on tv because I knew innately who I was. I assumed that self-awareness would carry me through the rest of my life. I would always be the old soul. Like so many other things Infertility seems to have taken that away from me. I don't know where I stand anymore from moment to moment.  The latest ground that seems to be crumbling beneath my feet is on the subject of adoption.
I always thought that adoption was an amazing option. I thought growing up that it would be nice to adopt someone. So when trying to conceive started taking longer than anticipated adoption naturally came up. I started doing research, lurking on an adoption board, preparing myself mentally for the realities that would come with that choice. When we were officially diagnosed with male factor infertility, the adoption option became more real. We knew that IVF simply wasn't cost effective. Not to mention the invasive procedures and copious amounts of drugs that are necessary in a single IVF cycle. I don't take tylenol unless the pain makes it hard to function. Together we ruled it out. Then as the journey progressed and I did even more research, we ruled it back in. Adoption became further down the line of options. With my husband's last SA even IVF started to look like a pipe dream. Adoption inches closer.
Last night my husband came home from visiting with a friend. I've been trying to get him to go and talk to this friend for months. I know he needs someone to talk to as much as I need my dreamers. I was relieved that he finally went. His friend is starting the adoption process due to male factor infertility. Hubby came home in a whole different frame of mind then he left that morning. He was excited, exuberant even. I was happy for him. Glad he had someone to talk to. Then he said, 'Hun, how bout we skip all this treatment stuff and go straight to adoption.' I'll admit I'd rolled that thought around in my head more than a couple of times in the past couple weeks. But when he said it aloud and excited, something broke inside me. The tears started welling up immediately, my throat clogged up, I couldn't talk without my voice cracking. It wasn't til he said it out loud that I realized how much I'm not ready to go there. I surprised myself completely with my gut wrench reaction to a simple suggestion. I don't know who I am anymore. Now I can't help but be over whelmed with guilt. And I don't even really know where it's coming from.
Hubby keeps asking these questions. "Is it just that you want to experience pregnancy?" "Is it just that you want a kid that looks like us?" Is it just.... JUST. It's not JUST anything. It's everything all together. Never experiencing pregnancy or childbirth,no maternity pictures, no baby shower, not being able to see myself in a child, having to pay thousands upon thousands of dollars, having someone judge me and my ability to be a parent, the possibility of a failed match, especially a last minute one where I've loved that baby for 2 weeks or more before the revocation period is over, having to have that talk with the child, hearing them say even once that I'm not their real mother, knowing that eventually they'll want to find their bio mom and me feeling like I wasn't enough if they need that. Yes they grew within someone else for 9 months but I was there for 18 years! I'm their real mom. And you can forget about those huggy feely open adoptions where the bio mom comes to visit for Christmas and birthdays. No..no..no you can't have your cake and eat it too, darn it. Not in my world. And what bio mom is going to pick closed off me over open Sally over there. All at once all these thoughts came crashing down on me and they were real not just nimbusy what-ifs. And I realized that I'm terrified. I'm really really scared. And I shouldn't be, right?
Maybe lurking on the adoption board wasn't the right thing to do but I watched these women experience incredible heartbreak from failed matches. I cried for them. They bounced back and tried again and sometimes tragically they had to do it all over yet again. I know that a late failed match will destroy me emotionally. I will not bounce back. The husband agrees and said, 'Well if that happens its the ultimate cosmic signal that we just shouldn't have children at all'. That didn't help at all, though I'm sure he thought it would.
I don't know where I am because the landscape is constantly changing around me, and through its changing its changing me as well.
My real life experience with adoption was limited. The closest I got was a kinship adoption, when my parents took in my 15 year old cousin. For three years she was my sister. I was young, I don't remember the time before her. The day she turned 18 she packed her bags and left, didn't even stay for the party we planned, didn't open her gifts, or eat cake. I didn't see her again for years and by then she had a kid of her own. By then I was angry. I'm still angry with her for leaving us, for taking our love and pretending we were family and then leaving the first chance she got and fracturing my youth.
I used to think adoption was helping someone. But knowing that what I want is infant adoption, I can't help but feel that I'm not really helping someone. There are waiting lists a mile long for infants. If I don't do it, you can darn well bet someone else is eager to take my place in line. And then there are the adopted kids who grow up and talk about how adoption ruined their lives, even if they were placed with loving families. I'm having a hard time seeing the positives anymore.
Rationally I think this is all part of the grieving process. Irrationally I feel like a bad person. The husband has since assured me that he's not ready to start the process either, not yet. That I shouldn't feel bad, but I do. I've always been supportive of adoption, why can't I be supportive of it for me?
I feel like I'm floundering and just plain lost right now.
If you would have asked me two weeks ago, heck even two days ago, about adoption I would have been overly positive and optimisitic, hopeful. Where did that person go? How did she just disappear into thin air?
I could really use some insights, some positive experiences, some reassurance that my emotions right now are normal, anything to shed some light on the situation while I fumble around in the dark.