Friday, December 24, 2010
So why am I in tears today?
Because this was supposed to be the best Christmas ever. So many years of hoping. So many years of saying "Maybe next year we will have a baby." Last year we were finally able to say, "This is our last year just the two of us." Last year was exciting, mostly because we were already thinking about this year.
I've tried so hard to not think about it. I've watched Josh play Santa and I've tried to forget that this years Christmas card was going to be him dressed as Santa with me and our baby sitting on his lap. Each time I've bought a present, I've tried to not think about what I'd rather be buying. I actually thought I saw two babies at my moms house during her dinner, but then I blinked and realized there was only my nephew.
I've tried to forget that our baby would be six months old now. When we first learned the due date, we immediately counted six months. Josh's family went though the temple on his birthday. It was the most amazing day ever. We were hoping that we could choose that as our sealing date.
I think that is why I have worked so hard on Christmas this year. So I can forget about the Christmas we had hoped for.
Friday, December 17, 2010
In my dream I was playing with a baby and his diaper got real dirty, as in it was leaking every where dirty. I looked around for someone to change it, but I couldn't find anyone. So I changed the diaper myself. Just as I finished a women came in and started yelling at me for changing her baby's diaper. I tried to explain it was leaking and how I didn't want him to get diaper rash, but she just kept yelling at me, "This isn't your baby!" Then later in my dream I was playing with a baby. I would grab his toes and he would giggle. Then he would grab his own toes and giggle some more. We played this game for quite a while. Then the same thing happened. A group of people came in and started yelling at me for playing with a baby that wasn't mine. They just kept yelling "This isn't your baby."
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The pink room was just kind of dubbed the baby room, even though we have always called it the pink room. For years it has been a kind of, but not really nursery, and a overflow for when the back room gets full. At times it has been set up as a nursery with the pack and play, the swing, and the high chair set up. At other times those have been folded up and literally stuffed into the closet (they are too big, the closet doesn't close when they are in there). The pack and play has been used maybe 5 times in the four years we have owned it on the rare occasion that I was asked to babysit. And even then, once the mother brought her own pack and play with her. The swing has never been used, at least not for a baby. There have been lonely time where I would go in there and just turn it on and pretend. The high chair has gotten a little bit more use, but even then, not really. I'm tired of storing these items. I'm tired of having a room I don't use.
So its time to go in and knock down the cobwebs (both literal and imagined). But when I go in there, all I do is cry. Cry for what never was. Cry for what almost was. Cry for what most likely will never be. I've decided the room is haunted.
I went in tonight to start to gather a few things that I am donating to a friend for her Christmas Project to provide items to the women's shelter. A few years ago another friend gave me a HUGE garbage bag full of baby boy clothes. I thought I'd start by adding them to my donation pile. That was easy. Then I started going through the stuff I bought. The little boy and little girl outfits I bought because I was in the baby section buying something for a gift for someone else and I just couldn't leave without buying something for me.
And the blankets, oh the blankets I hold so tenderly in my heart. The first one is a cow one that I looked FOREVER for when we first decided to adopt. At that point we were thinking of just looking for a little boy and I was determined to decorate the room (which we would paint blue) in little farm animals. I looked all over the web and couldn't find anything I liked. So then I started looking at fabrics so I could have bedding custom made. Then one day on Ebay, I found it. It was PERFECT. When I got it, I set it up in the Pack and Play just so I could see it every time I went in the room.
Then when we were approved to adopt and our profile was published I bought matching John Deere Blankets in green and pink to celebrate. I bought the green one first on Ebay, but then I decided I needed a pink one too for just in case. (By that time we had decided to be open to any gender). The green blanket came with a little matching pillow. When the seller listed the pink set, it included a small receiving blanket along with the quilt and pillow. I emailed the seller and told them my situation and asked for if it would be possible to get a matching green receiving blanket. They told me if I was the winning bidder on the pink set, they would throw in the green blanket also. I was so excited about those blanket sets! But they just sit in a box unopened and unused.
I am determined to get this room cleaned up and move my craft stuff into there. I would love to do it NOW but between the emotions and the pressure to finish up my Christmas projects it will probably have to wait. But I want to get it done just so I can get it over with. I've held on to this stuff to long. That's all it is anymore, just stuff. Stuff that seems to be holding me in a place I no longer want to be. I'm ready for the freedom that will come by letting go. In a book I am reading about infertility and moving on it said something to the effect of, as long as there is hope, there will also be pain. I completely agree. I'm ready for my life to move on.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
One such period was really late and then when it came it was so bad I was convinced I was miscarrying. It was so horrible. I won't share the details because they are kind of gross, but it seemed so real. One thing I need to learn is that my periods are never on time, never normal and most defiantly never the same.
That is why, in its own way, Josh's results were somewhat of a relief. I have never been pregnant which means I have never miscarried. I used to pray and thank God that I couldn't miscarry. I couldn't get pregnant, but at least I would never have to mourn the loss of a child through miscarriage.
Then I realized, I was an expectant mother and I lost a baby. I know its not the same as a miscarriage, but it feels like it to me. There was a baby that was going to become a part of our family. We had a name picked out and we were just starting to pick out nursery items when we lost our baby. So many hopes and dreams were finally coming true.
Its so hard to loose a baby. It hurts so much. After so many years of waiting we were finally living the joy of expectant parenthood. My husband told me daily that I was glowing and I knew he was right because he was glowing too. I learned that expecting a baby is the highest of high, head in the clouds, kind of happiness. And losing a baby is the lowest and deepest hurt of all hurts.
One of the hardest parts of a miscarriage is the silent mourning. No one seems to understand just how hard it is. They try to reason that there wasn't actually a baby so how can there be a loss. That is something which haunts me the most. I lost a baby! Couldn't some of the closest people in my life acknowledge my loss and how hard it was on me? Their feelings seem to be "just get pregnant again" or "just get back out there and try to adopt again."
It was so hard to mourn because I didn't have some thing physical to direct my grief towards, like a funeral and a monument like mourners have when they loose a loved one to death. But it was so real. I loved that little baby. I had no control to keep her in my life. And there is no way to replace that specific baby. If your husband dies, you don't just go out and marry the first man you meet so you can replace him. Even if you find another man, fall in love and get married, it doesn't replace the your first husband. It is the same when it comes to a miscarriage. You can't just have another baby, that doesn't replace the one you loss. You could have 10 babies, but they all still couldn't replace the loss of the one you lost. There is a hole that will never fully heal in my heart because of my loss.
Now each time I hear of a friend miscarrying, my heart cries out in anguish, because I know how real that loss is, how much it hurts, how devastating it feels. When I try to find the right words of comfort, I realize, there are no words that can be said to make this all better. But I still try because I have to. I have to let them know how I hate that it happened to them and how unfair it seems. I have to let them know I love them and care for them.
Miscarriages are real. And loosing a baby is so painful, so hard.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
In our conversing, my friend said something that I really liked and I wanted to post it so I don't forget it.
"Play it by day by day and see how you feel. You'll either get a 2nd wind to jump in again...or you'll feel the wind blowing you somewhere else. Either way, everything turns out all right in the end."
That is exactly how I feel right now. The wind isn't really blowing me towards adoption right now, but it also isn't really blowing me away from it either.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
After calming myself for a minute, I sent an email back. Then very impatiently, I waited for a reply. Each hour felt like a week! Finally after 5 LONG hours, I got a reply back from Parent Profiles. Apparently you don't send replies through them. You have to click on the email address from the sender instead of just hitting reply. So I had to send the message again.
After that it just seemed to be a whirlwind of emails. An unbelievable dream. We had finally met someone! She was beautiful and kind and perfect.
A year ago was one of the happiest days of my life. Which really was perfect because a year and a week ago was one of the worst days of my life. C helped me through a hard time. C gave me hope again. C's emails meant the world to me.
Today I'm not going to think about our sad ending. Today I am going to think of the happy beginning and how it changed my life. Today is going to be a good day because a year ago I had a good day. :)
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
So I guess the short version is: most days are fine. For the most part, I am at peace. But infertility is not something you can ever recover from or get over, so that means I still have bad days. I will always have bad days. The problem is I only feel like posting on those bad days, but after writing out my feelings I can't share it.
I think of the "what if" occasionally, but not obsessively like I used to. The first Sunday in church after the baby was born all I could think was "I shouldn't be here." And it was so frustrating because no one knew. The next day I had to celebrate a birth, all the time knowing that the baby I had dreamt about was being placed in the arms of another couple. I hate how infertility makes you plaster on a happy face and pretend like nothing is wrong, even when you feel your heart breaking inside.
Now my thought only dwell on the "what if" when things are brought to my attention, so I avoid those situations. Some may call in denial (and they might be right), but I call it self preservation. I know what I can and can't handle and I don't push myself past that point. Its hard to establish that point, because it affects others, but I've decided my own sanity is more important then what they think of me.
A while back I realized that adoption is no longer my heart, at least not like it used to be. Adoption is a part of my heart, but not my entire heart anymore. I'm not sure what that means for our future. For now, we are okay with how things are. We're not sure what the future holds, but we are not going to worry about it. Our new motto is "Find joy in the journey...now."
Am I happy? Yes, I am. Josh and I have been able to take a great relationship and make it even better. Our family may be small, but we are still a family and we try to celebrate that every day. Each day I am amazed at how much our love has grown. Next month marks our 12th anniversary since our first date. Every day he amazes me. Because of him, my heart is full.
Monday, August 2, 2010
I thought I would miss it. I thought Friday morning I would wake up in a panic, pack a bag, head out to Layton and hope to find a hotel to stay in. But Friday came, and that panic did not set in. Sure, I missed it, but mostly I just missed the friends I have made there. The friends I met last year and planned to meet again this year. The friends I have made on-line this last year and hoped to meet in person while there this year.
We have reached a new level of peace in our family building. We are okay with how things are. Feeling like I could miss conference has just helped add to the peace I have found lately.
Two months ago I started a blog post, but it never got past the draft stages. Here is part of it:
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I know I haven't posted much here for a while. There just isn't much to say. I still feel devastated that I won't be a mom this summer. I still don't understand what we did wrong. I don't understand how we could meet someone so wonderful, and then only have her in our life for such a short time.
Crying has become a way of life for me, a daily part of my life. Everything makes me cry and so does all the nothingness.
I haven't blogged about my feelings much because it tends to bring out the anonymous comments. Anonymous rarely have something nice to say. They make me feel like I'm not allowed to feel such a loss. I was finally going to be a mom! After years of trying and years of waiting, the end was in sight. We had a due date and we were in love with someone. This is a loss. My pain is real.
So anonymous, before your panties get in a wad, let me try to clarify myself.
My feelings are not meant as an attack against any birth mother. My feelings are about me not becoming a mom in the near future. I still love C. I think of her often and hope she is doing well. She is an amazing young women and I am sure the adoptive family she chose are just as amazing. I know God's hand was in the choosing of the family for her little girl. I just don't understand why God wanted us in her life for such a short time. Maybe if I could find peace and understanding there, maybe I wouldn't cry so much. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.
But on the other hand, I think by not blogging, I have given the illusion that all is fine. I can't keep pretending that all is fine. My heart is broken and I don't think it will ever heal.
There is two rungs on the ladder before I hit rock bottom, and they are coming up fast. I just hope that once I do hit bottom, I can find the strength to pick myself back up. Right now I'm just sitting on the edge waiting for it to all happen...
Anonymous, feel free to comment. I actually get a kick out of what you are willing to say since you don't have to attach your name. You have not beaten me. If you had, I would no longer accept anonymous comments, or I would make my blogs completely private. Have a nice day.
Friday, April 9, 2010
I can't bring myself to go buy another purse. A few months ago when I noticed its condition I decided I would tough it out until this summer. Then I would need a diaper bag and I could just carry my wallet in it.
I don't need a diaper bag anymore...
I am amazed at how the little things, like a purse, remind me that I'm not going to be a mom this summer.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Tuesday we were unchosen by our potential birth mom. I was at work when I got the email. I don't remember much more of that day except trying to hide the tears. On Wednesday I woke up to realize it wasn't a bad dream. I figured since the world was still turning, I might as well go to work. I made it through the day, but just barely. The most touching part of the day was when a co worker helped spread the word, so I wouldn't have to.
I don't think I can make it through another day of normalcy. We are taking the rest of the week off and are headed out of town.