I know adoption isn't everyone's gig, but if you do want to keep following our adventures, switch up your No Regrets link to forgetting to remember to forget before this place finds it's way to cyberspace.
About Me
- Lost in Space
- On the planet since 1973. Living in sin with M since 1997 and honestly since 2002. Failing at baby-making since 2005. And whining about it here since 2008. Come on in and sit a spell. This train wreck never seems to end.
Friday, May 13, 2011
move along. move along. nothing to see here.
The infertility purgatory party here has officially ended. It's time to close this shop up and let sleeping ovaries die.
I know adoption isn't everyone's gig, but if you do want to keep following our adventures, switch up your No Regrets link to forgetting to remember to forget before this place finds it's way to cyberspace.
I know adoption isn't everyone's gig, but if you do want to keep following our adventures, switch up your No Regrets link to forgetting to remember to forget before this place finds it's way to cyberspace.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
eating my words...
and they have never tasted better.
I cried through so many of your sweet comments on my last post. Everything hurt and I was not in a good place at all. Battling this beast for nearing 6 years and failing time and time again coupled with a 2-year stall-out after our final ART failed had brought me to a breaking point of sorts. I saw most everyone around me moving on while I sat, waiting-hoping-damn-near-willing M to have a change of heart. It was slowly eating me alive.
And then something happened.
Part of Heather's comment on my last post says it all.
"...my only consolation for you at this moment is that I've seen too many times how quickly things can turn. i don't know how - or when - but just that they can..."
And they are. In such a sweet and amazing way.
I don't yet fully understand the specifics on how or when it happened (and I don't need to), but just that it DID happen. And the one thing I know I can count on is that as much as he loves me, M does not have a fake bone in his body. He says exactly what he means even if it isn't what I want to hear. Most recently when I asked his opinion of my outfit on one of those nights when I was struggling to find anything to wear, I got a "You look like friend X." said with a twisted scowl on his face. "A little too tigerish."
As much as I would love to have the husband that would do something like this because he knows it means the world to me, it means even more knowing that this is what he wants too (and surprisingly, he wants it to happen RIGHT NOW as in yesterday).
So we are finally leaving infertility purgatory behind with No Regrets and headed where we will continue forgetting to remember to forget. Stop by sometime. I'd love to see you over there!
And also an "ugh" to add in because I know this is going to be hard for some out there to read. Big, giant, squishy hugs and I'm sorry. I really really hate this part.
I cried through so many of your sweet comments on my last post. Everything hurt and I was not in a good place at all. Battling this beast for nearing 6 years and failing time and time again coupled with a 2-year stall-out after our final ART failed had brought me to a breaking point of sorts. I saw most everyone around me moving on while I sat, waiting-hoping-damn-near-willing M to have a change of heart. It was slowly eating me alive.
And then something happened.
Part of Heather's comment on my last post says it all.
"...my only consolation for you at this moment is that I've seen too many times how quickly things can turn. i don't know how - or when - but just that they can..."
And they are. In such a sweet and amazing way.
I don't yet fully understand the specifics on how or when it happened (and I don't need to), but just that it DID happen. And the one thing I know I can count on is that as much as he loves me, M does not have a fake bone in his body. He says exactly what he means even if it isn't what I want to hear. Most recently when I asked his opinion of my outfit on one of those nights when I was struggling to find anything to wear, I got a "You look like friend X." said with a twisted scowl on his face. "A little too tigerish."
As much as I would love to have the husband that would do something like this because he knows it means the world to me, it means even more knowing that this is what he wants too (and surprisingly, he wants it to happen RIGHT NOW as in yesterday).
So we are finally leaving infertility purgatory behind with No Regrets and headed where we will continue forgetting to remember to forget. Stop by sometime. I'd love to see you over there!
And also an "ugh" to add in because I know this is going to be hard for some out there to read. Big, giant, squishy hugs and I'm sorry. I really really hate this part.
Friday, April 8, 2011
all craptastic things must come to an end
Lately it is harder to come to this place than it is to stay away. I've wasted hours writing and deleting a good 50 posts since the last one I actually published. The right words are just not there anymore and it's time to put an end to the madness and start letting go.
Before I delete the unpublished posts, I often wonder who the person is that wrote those words. I wonder how and when she came to be that way - sad, bitter, angry. I wonder if she will ever feel comfortable in her own skin again. If her insides will match her outsides and the fake happy facade can finally fade away.
Sometimes it feels like I am back to square one.
And yet, I know I'm not.
I'm out and I'm living and I'm pushing forward. I'm trying with everything I have and yet the sadness continues to sit just under the surface. This was not the life I ever saw myself living.
Sometimes I forget. Forget that our path to parenthood is stalled out. At a dead end. Likely over. Today I sat in our den (while I was supposed to be dusting) and fantasized where we would put a crib and changing table. I mentally rearranged the closet organizers to accommodate hanging rods for tiny clothes. Later as I put away cleaning supplies, I thought about what things would need to be done/rearranged to pass a homestudy.
Tonight reality set in once again and the tears just continue to roll. Who am I fooling? Crib? Homestudy? I don't seem to remember M having a change of heart about adoption and last I checked my reproductive system had all but checked out on a permanent vacation.
When did it all become so complicated? Never in a million years did I expect that someone who exists only in my head could be powerful enough to even make a dent on my fully-reserved-for-M heart. Yet somehow M and my imaginary baby are collectively shredding it to pieces.
I don't have it in me to write about childless-not-by-choice living so I think the time has come to say good-bye to No Regrets...
I don't even know if anyone is reading anymore, but just in case... I do want to thank everyone who has stopped by, silently followed along, commented, supported, commiserated, helped me see another point of view, and pulled me out of some of the most craptastic times of my life. I know without a doubt I could not have made it this far without you. I apologize for not being in a place to follow along with you and offer up the same support right now. I hope to check in on you all now and again and I am sending out a wish for everyone who is still battling this beast to find a way through. So far the alternative really sucks ass (said in my fake-cheeriest of tones).
And if you have made it through, please, please, please don't ever forget your sisters still in the trenches... when it seems they have it all under control is likely when they most need to hear a simple "how are you?" from someone who has been there.
“Do not assume that she who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. Her life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, she would never have been able to find these words.” -Rainer Maria Rilke
**and for my FB friends, I didn't unfriend anyone - just deactivated my account**
Before I delete the unpublished posts, I often wonder who the person is that wrote those words. I wonder how and when she came to be that way - sad, bitter, angry. I wonder if she will ever feel comfortable in her own skin again. If her insides will match her outsides and the fake happy facade can finally fade away.
Sometimes it feels like I am back to square one.
And yet, I know I'm not.
I'm out and I'm living and I'm pushing forward. I'm trying with everything I have and yet the sadness continues to sit just under the surface. This was not the life I ever saw myself living.
Sometimes I forget. Forget that our path to parenthood is stalled out. At a dead end. Likely over. Today I sat in our den (while I was supposed to be dusting) and fantasized where we would put a crib and changing table. I mentally rearranged the closet organizers to accommodate hanging rods for tiny clothes. Later as I put away cleaning supplies, I thought about what things would need to be done/rearranged to pass a homestudy.
Tonight reality set in once again and the tears just continue to roll. Who am I fooling? Crib? Homestudy? I don't seem to remember M having a change of heart about adoption and last I checked my reproductive system had all but checked out on a permanent vacation.
When did it all become so complicated? Never in a million years did I expect that someone who exists only in my head could be powerful enough to even make a dent on my fully-reserved-for-M heart. Yet somehow M and my imaginary baby are collectively shredding it to pieces.
I don't have it in me to write about childless-not-by-choice living so I think the time has come to say good-bye to No Regrets...
I don't even know if anyone is reading anymore, but just in case... I do want to thank everyone who has stopped by, silently followed along, commented, supported, commiserated, helped me see another point of view, and pulled me out of some of the most craptastic times of my life. I know without a doubt I could not have made it this far without you. I apologize for not being in a place to follow along with you and offer up the same support right now. I hope to check in on you all now and again and I am sending out a wish for everyone who is still battling this beast to find a way through. So far the alternative really sucks ass (said in my fake-cheeriest of tones).
And if you have made it through, please, please, please don't ever forget your sisters still in the trenches... when it seems they have it all under control is likely when they most need to hear a simple "how are you?" from someone who has been there.
“Do not assume that she who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. Her life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, she would never have been able to find these words.” -Rainer Maria Rilke
**and for my FB friends, I didn't unfriend anyone - just deactivated my account**
Friday, January 14, 2011
from then to now and beyond: happy birthday no regrets
3 years ago today I wrote my first post here at No Regrets. I was 2.5 years into this trying to make a baby business with my first IVF just on the horizon. If someone had asked me then where I thought I would be 3 years later, I would have told them that I would likely be a mom of at least 1, maybe 2 (or with a second on the way). I would have told them that my 2.5 year battle with infertility was difficult and stressful and that it had changed me, but that it was all so worth it in the end because my child was worth every bit and then some.
2 years ago today I was a few BCPs into my final IVF cycle. I was now 3.5 years infertile. I had sadly spent a good portion of the year either curled up crying on the couch or frantically googling IVF statistics, odds of pregnancy with elevated FSH, IVF protocols, crap eggs, and IF stories of hope. I found my renewed hope in CCRM and cautiously let myself get excited that they could do some voodoo ovary magic. If someone had asked me where I would be in 2 years, I would have told them that I would be a mom. One way or another, I would be a mom.
1 year ago today I was around 11 months post final IVF failure. I was now 4.5 years into the IF depths of hell and I was pretty much a mess. At times I thought that driving under a semi seemed like a better choice than facing the next day. M and I spent part of the year in therapy talking about loss and then adoption and then the losses of adoption. If someone had asked me where I would be in 1 year I would have told them "either a mom or a mom-to-be in waiting."
We read adoption books. We attended a weekly pre-adoption support group. We went to adoption lawyer info sessions. We started to get our house in order. We were on the adoption path...and then suddenly we weren't.
Today. Oh sweet today, how did you ever become part of my life?! I now have 5.5 years under my belt. Infertility still has a grip, but it has loosened up a bit. The tearful cloudy times do linger around, but I am also allowing myself to see the sun. I mean, really see the sun. I am living in the midst of my infertility, but I am living in spite of my infertility, to spite my infertility. I am living more than before infertility was a part of my life.
Virtual proof of my last year...
January
 |
| Las Flores Canyon Mine Exploration - Altadena, CA |
 |
| Camping and Exploring - Aguereberry Point, Death Valley, CA |
February
 |
| Snow shoeing - San Jacinto in Palm Springs, CA |
March
Trapeze Class at Richie Gaona Flying Trapeze School - Woodland Hills, CA
April
 |
| Canyoneering down a 90' waterfall - Rubio Canyon, Altadena, CA |
 |
| Hiking and Climbing - Santa Ynez Falls in Topanga State Park, Pacific Palisades, CA |
 |
| California Poppies - just outside Palmdale, CA |
 |
| Rock, Hop, & Scramble - Malibu Creek State Park |
 |
| Hiking in Rustic Canyon - Pacific Palisades, CA (The place I gots da poison oak from.) |
 |
| 120' rappel into Pinnacles Cave where we spent 8 hours underground exploring - just outside Las Vegas, NV |
May
 |
| Kayaking, camping, and other shenanigans - Black Canyon (on the Colorado River at Hoover Dam), Boulder City, NV |
 |
| Mastiff puppy take 1 - Sweet baby Moose on his first day home |
June
 |
| Camping & Class IV+ Whitewater Rafting - Upper Kern River in Kernville, CA |
July
 |
| Backpacking through the entire Zion Narrows - Zion National Park near Springdale, UT |
 |
| Finished up a big outdoor remodeling project and really took some time to just sit and enjoy it |
August
 |
| Outside Lands Music Festival - San Francisco, CA |
 |
| Blog friends meet up!!! Me, Sarang (private blog), Meg Head (because the real Meg couldn't be with us), Melissa G (who I lifted this photo from), and Nikki. Yup, real women outside of this box battling this same IF beast. Strong, incredible, supportive, amazing real women. |
 |
| Day hike with the girls in Mt. Baldy Area |
September
 |
| Backpacking weekend - Inyo National Forest at Lake Sabrina, Bishop, CA |
 |
| The "Brenda pose" after a hike to the top of Mt Baldy (10,064'), Mt Baldy, CA |
October
 |
| Backpacking and climbing Mt. Whitney's summit, the highest point in the continental US (now est at 14,505') - Lone Pine, CA |
 |
| A true Cheech & Chong Halloween - mega fatties, skeleton beer koozy, and an officer with a good sense of humor |
November
November
 |
| Mastiff puppy take 2 - Miss Paris (aka Lil' Bit) on her first day home |
 |
| Finally made M a Turducken (that's a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey) after nearly 10 years of pleading |
December
 |
| Hiking and Camping and ending the year in the same National Park that it started - Badwater Basin (lowest point in North America), Death Valley, CA |
If someone were to ask me today where I think I will be in 3 years, I can honestly say that I just don't know anymore. I would still love nothing more than to be a mom, but I also know that I will be able to find a way to keep on going if that doesn't happen. So while the me of 3 years ago expected at this blogging milestone to say that, "This battle with infertility was difficult and stressful and that it had changed me, but that it was all so worth it in the end because my child was worth every bit and then some", I instead find I'm allowing myself to be worth every bit and then some as I live in the right now...
Happy 3rd Birthday, No Regrets.
Friday, January 7, 2011
another holiday, another...um...let me try to explain this one
So I was kind of having a rough go of things before the holiday season even started. We were expecting a family of 4 to visit us for ~6 days around and through Thanksgiving and as much as I love them all was still feeling pretty anxious and conflicted and anticipating those kinds of comments. The ones that are in no way meant to be spiteful or hurtful toward me, but stick an unsuspecting quiet dagger right through my heart just because of where I am at emotionally. You all know the kind.
I don't know why some holidays are worse than others, but this one seemed to be one of those cry-over-everything-didn't-start-my-shopping-until-the 24th-of-December types. I even succumbed to bringing chocolate chips to work on a near daily basis for a little perk. No, not cookies, just a bag of chocolate chips*. Ghiradelli if you must know. Don't judge. I was sad, remember?
*Self Control, please, please, please come back to me soon...
Some of you might remember the last holiday I was a blubbering mess at was Mother's Day this past year. And some of you might remember that we picked up this little guy way back on that fateful Mother's Day (you know, when I was still a real blogger who actually posted more than sporadically - crap, I guess that was more like 2 years ago - hmph - anyway...).
Moose has been a welcome distraction and the best coping skill I have found to date. He made last year my best Mother's Day to date. He is still such a Velcro dog (meaning he is happiest when he is right next to (or on top of) one of his people. On top of has become a bit difficult as he seems to have grown just a little bit since May.
He passed not only his 8-week puppy class, but also a follow-up 8 week intermediate class. Not that he needed it or anything, but yeah, he pretty much needed it. I suspect he was graded on a curve or given bonus points for cuteness somewhere along the way because seriously "dear god would you please just leave it, Moose?"
He used to play at a dog park until he became enamored with a white pit bull there. He tried to fancy that poor pit one too many times for my comfort level and I haven't been back since. Did I mention his pit friend is a boy?
I knew I should have rethought his Halloween costume...
We finished off a dog run we were in the process ofbuilding paying for during the summer. It was a really great design with a small portion set up as a potty complete with underground drains and pea gravel. It was going so well until we were woken up at 2AM to some blood curdling yelps.
All the rocks are now gone (in both his belly and the dog run) except for the few still rattling around in that big old adorable pea brain.
So I have stalled you all and gotten slightly off the main point of this post as I became lost in showing how my little pony is growing up and suppose I should get back to the whole finding happiness during tough holidays thing.
I want to say that there was a great deal of thought and reason put into what what we did the Friday before Thanksgiving, but I can't. You already saw her on our holiday card, but here she is in all her naughty glory.
Meet Moose's little sister Paris.
I'm blaming the pomegranate margaritas the (dog) breeders fed to us at their party...or that we got Moose wet and he multiplied...or that holiday blues thing - yes, the whole point of this post, right!?...or that Moose really needed a playmate...or that Molly (Remember our almost 13-year-old Molly girl? Yes, we still have her too.) really needed for Moose to have a playmate so he would leave her the f alone once in awhile.
Love my sweet old grey-faced girl.
Her name is based solely on her personality:
Spoiled rotten, high maintenance, big attitude, bossy, blonde beauty who finds herself in short stints behind bars no matter how much she bats those pretty little eyes.
At any rate, Paris is here to stay. And not just stay, but she has pretty much taken over...
Moose's toys
and Moose's beds
and Moose's food
and Moose's personal space
I can't decide if Molly's face is saying "Save me!" or "Shoot. Me. NOW."
So I guess it had to happen eventually. We have become a 3 dog house AND I just posted 15 pictures of them on my baby-making-failure blog. I think this might be the beginning of the end.
We are officially those crazy childless dog people.
I promise not to create facebook profiles for them...at least until Mother's Day rolls around again.
"Well, mommy and daddy have grey hair because of YOU *giggle giggle* (said to ornery child in playful manner after child points out the parental's obvious grey hairs). See, Uncle M and Aunt Brenda don't have any grey hair."
No, no we don't.and there is always
"When child 2 graduates college, I will be around 50. Can you believe that?! And then we can start thinking about retirement."Did I mention that I am around 4.5 months OLDER and have yet to even have child 1?! There is also one of my personal favorites while complaining about a coworker who adopted 6 children through foster care,
"...and her 6 adopted children..."because it has such relevance to the alleged work related incompetence of the woman under fire. And yes, they know all about our status (I heard that's what all the cool infertiles are calling it these days). Okay, so off my side tangent rant and back to the sometimes-holidays-can-really-suck-in-the-IF-world.
I don't know why some holidays are worse than others, but this one seemed to be one of those cry-over-everything-didn't-start-my-shopping-until-the 24th-of-December types. I even succumbed to bringing chocolate chips to work on a near daily basis for a little perk. No, not cookies, just a bag of chocolate chips*. Ghiradelli if you must know. Don't judge. I was sad, remember?
*Self Control, please, please, please come back to me soon...
Some of you might remember the last holiday I was a blubbering mess at was Mother's Day this past year. And some of you might remember that we picked up this little guy way back on that fateful Mother's Day (you know, when I was still a real blogger who actually posted more than sporadically - crap, I guess that was more like 2 years ago - hmph - anyway...).
 |
| ~3.5 months old |
 |
| ~11.5 months old |
He used to play at a dog park until he became enamored with a white pit bull there. He tried to fancy that poor pit one too many times for my comfort level and I haven't been back since. Did I mention his pit friend is a boy?
We finished off a dog run we were in the process of
So I have stalled you all and gotten slightly off the main point of this post as I became lost in showing how my little pony is growing up and suppose I should get back to the whole finding happiness during tough holidays thing.
I want to say that there was a great deal of thought and reason put into what what we did the Friday before Thanksgiving, but I can't. You already saw her on our holiday card, but here she is in all her naughty glory.
*
*
*
*
*
I'm blaming the pomegranate margaritas the (dog) breeders fed to us at their party...or that we got Moose wet and he multiplied...or that holiday blues thing - yes, the whole point of this post, right!?...or that Moose really needed a playmate...or that Molly (Remember our almost 13-year-old Molly girl? Yes, we still have her too.) really needed for Moose to have a playmate so he would leave her the f alone once in awhile.
Her name is based solely on her personality:
At any rate, Paris is here to stay. And not just stay, but she has pretty much taken over...
Moose's toys
and Moose's beds
and Moose's food
and Moose's personal space
So I guess it had to happen eventually. We have become a 3 dog house AND I just posted 15 pictures of them on my baby-making-failure blog. I think this might be the beginning of the end.
We are officially those crazy childless dog people.
I promise not to create facebook profiles for them...at least until Mother's Day rolls around again.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
the dissection of an infertile holiday card
I am trying really hard this holiday season to not be the Grinchmas asshole that I have been in the past. It isn't so much for my own enjoyment, but for the other dear human with whom I reside.
I have decorated the tree and parts of the house that the dogs can't destroy.
I reluctantly went to a work holiday luncheon which morphed into a double pregnancy announcement for a couple of baby #2s to, well, basically just me. Everyone else there already knew, you see. It was doubly fun and filled with extra bonuses as I was sitting next to one of them. I heard and learned over and over again that day that "unless you have a toddler you wouldn't understand". Happy Merryover-the-river-and-under-the-bus-oh-what-fun-it-is-to-slit-my-jolly-wrist* Holiday!!
*Don't go all crazy calling any authorities. It's only my lame attempt at SARCASM.
And although I have yet to begin any shopping (or shipping...@$#*!) and there are now only a couple days until Christmas, I did at least bust my ass spending 30 whole minutes dragging a holiday card together and waiting another hour for Wal.greens to print 'em. Then I whisked myself away for a 3 day camping trip in Death Valley to find a little holiday spirit...or was it to drink some holiday spirits...I forget.
Anyway...
Here is a somewhat blurry version of the card that we (said only because he did actually drop some of them into the big pretty blue post office box) sent - with hearts added to cover up the innocent.
In case you can't read it, it says,
The card made my husband happy. This post dissecting it makes me happy. It really is a win-win this time.
Wishing those who need it an "It's-almost-over-for-another-whole-year-I-promise-Hang-in-there-my-friends" kind of holiday.
And Merry/Happy to the rest of you!
One of these days (like next week when I'm off work) I'm even going to catch up on reading all your blogs...all 273 according to my reader.
I have decorated the tree and parts of the house that the dogs can't destroy.
I reluctantly went to a work holiday luncheon which morphed into a double pregnancy announcement for a couple of baby #2s to, well, basically just me. Everyone else there already knew, you see. It was doubly fun and filled with extra bonuses as I was sitting next to one of them. I heard and learned over and over again that day that "unless you have a toddler you wouldn't understand". Happy Merry
*Don't go all crazy calling any authorities. It's only my lame attempt at SARCASM.
And although I have yet to begin any shopping (or shipping...@$#*!) and there are now only a couple days until Christmas, I did at least bust my ass spending 30 whole minutes dragging a holiday card together and waiting another hour for Wal.greens to print 'em. Then I whisked myself away for a 3 day camping trip in Death Valley to find a little holiday spirit...or was it to drink some holiday spirits...I forget.
Anyway...
Here is a somewhat blurry version of the card that we (said only because he did actually drop some of them into the big pretty blue post office box) sent - with hearts added to cover up the innocent.
In case you can't read it, it says,
"Wishing You Peace, Joy, and Adventure All the Year ThroughLet the dissection begin...
With Love from M, Brenda, Molly, Moose, & Paris ~ 2010"
The card made my husband happy. This post dissecting it makes me happy. It really is a win-win this time.
Wishing those who need it an "It's-almost-over-for-another-whole-year-I-promise-Hang-in-there-my-friends" kind of holiday.
And Merry/Happy to the rest of you!
One of these days (like next week when I'm off work) I'm even going to catch up on reading all your blogs...all 273 according to my reader.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
*poof*
Good-bye June. Hello...um...stay with me here...errr...is anyone even out there anymore?...*flipping calendar pages*...crap, where has the time gone?...it can't be...but *poof* just like that...yup, it's December.
AGAIN.
Christmas #6.
Oh joyful holidays, how I have longed to see you in this barren state once again.
Yee Haw. Let the good times roll. (Please excuse my slight punchy-ness out of the (re)starting blogging blocks).
Seriously, I've got this one in the bag though, my friends. An infertile holiday pro if you will. Who needs a kid when holiday liquor and gooey dessert goodness are so socially acceptable and readily available this time of year?! (Reminder Note to Self: Find Mr. Self Control again one of these days...)
Obviously I've made great strides of progress since June (and managed to keep my sarcasm in full force, just in case you thought I was serious).
I have been living in a glorious state of denial and it has been for the most part fabulous. I have avoided most everything to do with pregnancy, babies, parenting, and the like. Out of sight, out of mind, right? We all know that one is a misnomer, but damn did I ever stuff this infertility crap deep this go around. Deepity. Deep. Deep. Deep.
I somehow managed to build up a nice shield of armor blocking out the emotional death grip of the infertility beast. (You know, the one that mangled my heart and stole parts of my smile.) Really, it was going pretty well. Just pretending everything to do with pregnancy and babies and parenting wasn't part of reality. I handled a couple face to face pregnancy announcements without so much as a flinch. I congratulated girls who I used to babysit for on the births of their 4th and 5th babies. I even hit the big baby superstore where I spent a couple hours searching for just the right gifts for a couple of very dear friends without any tears.
I had become invincible and at times really thought I was finding a way to be okay with where we are at. Turns out I was in denial over my denial. A whole new level, even for me.
M and I had one meaningful conversation about anything to do with parenting between June and late October. Did I mention how deeply I can stuff? It ended with a whole lotta tears and a decision that adoption is not the right choice for us at this point in time. Maybe one day, but I am trying hard to come to terms that this will likely never happen.
*poof*
Grief. Take 1,436,524. It's okay though. I'm a pro at this stuff now.
A couple weeks later I went to a seemingly innocent 50th birthday lunch for one of my male coworkers. As we approached the door to the restaurant I saw my old office mate with her baby. I was partially confused at first (as the lunch consisted of ~20-25ish mostly middle-aged men and 4 women during working hours) and then instantly overwhelmed. In my moment of unpreparedness I resorted to what I have always known best in these situations.
Do NOT look at the baby. Do NOT talk to the baby. Do NOT make mention of the baby. Do NOT sit near the baby. In case this isn't coming out clearly, I wanted nothing to do with the baby or the space surrounding the baby or the people talking about or near the baby.
For some background, I wrote a bit about the thought process of going to these kinds of lunches in the first place a couple years ago and why my head goes to the places it does and actions ever so obediently follow suit.
Once we walked in I noticed that my other old office mate also had her toddler there. So apparently I missed the memos that 1) it was bring-your-baby-to-inappropriate-work-function-luncheon day and 2) today wasn't going to be my day. I'm not bitter though. Really. Fortunately the table was huge and there were still seats left open away from babypalooza. I still had most of my tough exterior shell covering my heart and managed to have a pretty good time in my usual spot of hanging with the guys talking about football, home repairs, dogs, and outdoor adventures. I was near my boss and my boss's boss so I had to appear to act normally (which already was a bit of a farce because whatyoung *pffftt* middle-aged woman doesn't flock to and squeal with delight at the sight of those adorable little bundles). Okay, aside from that all was going fine (said with a gritted teeth fake smile).
And then near the end of the meal I looked up to see my friend tapping to the beat of the song spilling out of the overhead restaurant speakers. She was tapping on her son's chest and singing to him as he followed her every move so intently and with the most adoring grin. It was a look reserved only for his mama.
*poof*
And my tough shell built up over the last few months melted away in an instant. Left exposed was a really raw spot that I wasn't sure what to do with. The deeply stuffed packing job I had done with this crap had become so intertwined into a jumbled mess of emotions and feelings that were hard to separate when so quickly and unexpectedly uncovered.
Anger. check.
Grief. check.
Hurt. check.
Longing. check.
Jealousy. check.
Despair. check.
I want to be the one receiving that look. I want to be the one singing and chest tapping and loving on and teaching and learning from and, and, and. I have never wanted something more in my life, but there is no working at it more, trying harder, practicing extra, or paying more that will make this one work.
I cried when I got back to my desk. Then I cried all the way home in the car with M after work. He tried to be a consoling voice of reason, but I wanted no part of it. I was hurt that my friend didn't give me a heads up. I was angry at my body for failing me so many times. I was frustrated with M for trying to reason with me when all I wanted to do was cry it out. I was a whole mixed bundle of other hidden emotions toward M for not wanting to adopt. I was in bed by 7PM with the covers pulled high over my head.
*poof*
Hello familiar emotional infertility mess. What an unwanted yet oddly familiar comfort?? you are. Or maybe the comfort is just simply the need to actually feel something again?
Two days later M and I went to a RESOLVE workshop. It was originally scheduled to be an all day conference with multiple sessions in multiple rooms and vendors lining up the hallways, but due to a low number of registrants (see, people do actually get to leave this crap behind!!) became a morning workshop with four 1-ish-hour sessions. Infertility and IVF. Donor options. Adoption. Coping as a Couple.
And somewhere in one of those sessions I think we finally figured out where we will go from here...for now anyway. My attitude on this tends to hit peaks and valleys within matters of minutes. So not the ride I signed up for. But *poof* welcome back to the world reality.
One day when I find better words, I'll start talking about what I see in our future. Right now I just want to focus on getting through the holidays without being the Grinchmas asshole yet again...
AGAIN.
Christmas #6.
Oh joyful holidays, how I have longed to see you in this barren state once again.
Yee Haw. Let the good times roll. (Please excuse my slight punchy-ness out of the (re)starting blogging blocks).
Seriously, I've got this one in the bag though, my friends. An infertile holiday pro if you will. Who needs a kid when holiday liquor and gooey dessert goodness are so socially acceptable and readily available this time of year?! (Reminder Note to Self: Find Mr. Self Control again one of these days...)
Obviously I've made great strides of progress since June (and managed to keep my sarcasm in full force, just in case you thought I was serious).
I have been living in a glorious state of denial and it has been for the most part fabulous. I have avoided most everything to do with pregnancy, babies, parenting, and the like. Out of sight, out of mind, right? We all know that one is a misnomer, but damn did I ever stuff this infertility crap deep this go around. Deepity. Deep. Deep. Deep.
I somehow managed to build up a nice shield of armor blocking out the emotional death grip of the infertility beast. (You know, the one that mangled my heart and stole parts of my smile.) Really, it was going pretty well. Just pretending everything to do with pregnancy and babies and parenting wasn't part of reality. I handled a couple face to face pregnancy announcements without so much as a flinch. I congratulated girls who I used to babysit for on the births of their 4th and 5th babies. I even hit the big baby superstore where I spent a couple hours searching for just the right gifts for a couple of very dear friends without any tears.
I had become invincible and at times really thought I was finding a way to be okay with where we are at. Turns out I was in denial over my denial. A whole new level, even for me.
M and I had one meaningful conversation about anything to do with parenting between June and late October. Did I mention how deeply I can stuff? It ended with a whole lotta tears and a decision that adoption is not the right choice for us at this point in time. Maybe one day, but I am trying hard to come to terms that this will likely never happen.
*poof*
Grief. Take 1,436,524. It's okay though. I'm a pro at this stuff now.
A couple weeks later I went to a seemingly innocent 50th birthday lunch for one of my male coworkers. As we approached the door to the restaurant I saw my old office mate with her baby. I was partially confused at first (as the lunch consisted of ~20-25ish mostly middle-aged men and 4 women during working hours) and then instantly overwhelmed. In my moment of unpreparedness I resorted to what I have always known best in these situations.
Do NOT look at the baby. Do NOT talk to the baby. Do NOT make mention of the baby. Do NOT sit near the baby. In case this isn't coming out clearly, I wanted nothing to do with the baby or the space surrounding the baby or the people talking about or near the baby.
For some background, I wrote a bit about the thought process of going to these kinds of lunches in the first place a couple years ago and why my head goes to the places it does and actions ever so obediently follow suit.
Once we walked in I noticed that my other old office mate also had her toddler there. So apparently I missed the memos that 1) it was bring-your-baby-to-inappropriate-work-function-luncheon day and 2) today wasn't going to be my day. I'm not bitter though. Really. Fortunately the table was huge and there were still seats left open away from babypalooza. I still had most of my tough exterior shell covering my heart and managed to have a pretty good time in my usual spot of hanging with the guys talking about football, home repairs, dogs, and outdoor adventures. I was near my boss and my boss's boss so I had to appear to act normally (which already was a bit of a farce because what
And then near the end of the meal I looked up to see my friend tapping to the beat of the song spilling out of the overhead restaurant speakers. She was tapping on her son's chest and singing to him as he followed her every move so intently and with the most adoring grin. It was a look reserved only for his mama.
*poof*
And my tough shell built up over the last few months melted away in an instant. Left exposed was a really raw spot that I wasn't sure what to do with. The deeply stuffed packing job I had done with this crap had become so intertwined into a jumbled mess of emotions and feelings that were hard to separate when so quickly and unexpectedly uncovered.
Anger. check.
Grief. check.
Hurt. check.
Longing. check.
Jealousy. check.
Despair. check.
I want to be the one receiving that look. I want to be the one singing and chest tapping and loving on and teaching and learning from and, and, and. I have never wanted something more in my life, but there is no working at it more, trying harder, practicing extra, or paying more that will make this one work.
I cried when I got back to my desk. Then I cried all the way home in the car with M after work. He tried to be a consoling voice of reason, but I wanted no part of it. I was hurt that my friend didn't give me a heads up. I was angry at my body for failing me so many times. I was frustrated with M for trying to reason with me when all I wanted to do was cry it out. I was a whole mixed bundle of other hidden emotions toward M for not wanting to adopt. I was in bed by 7PM with the covers pulled high over my head.
*poof*
Hello familiar emotional infertility mess. What an unwanted yet oddly familiar comfort?? you are. Or maybe the comfort is just simply the need to actually feel something again?
Two days later M and I went to a RESOLVE workshop. It was originally scheduled to be an all day conference with multiple sessions in multiple rooms and vendors lining up the hallways, but due to a low number of registrants (see, people do actually get to leave this crap behind!!) became a morning workshop with four 1-ish-hour sessions. Infertility and IVF. Donor options. Adoption. Coping as a Couple.
And somewhere in one of those sessions I think we finally figured out where we will go from here...for now anyway. My attitude on this tends to hit peaks and valleys within matters of minutes. So not the ride I signed up for. But *poof* welcome back to the world reality.
One day when I find better words, I'll start talking about what I see in our future. Right now I just want to focus on getting through the holidays without being the Grinchmas asshole yet again...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)