Positive Reinforcement

November 12, 2008

I will concieve, carry and deliver a healthy, living baby concieved with love by Hubby and I.

This is will up on my blog until it happens.

UPDATE:  I DID!!!  Her name is Zoey and she was born screaming on 12/28/10

New Blog

February 23, 2010

at: http://awatchedbellynevergrows.wordpress.com

It is password protected so if you want the password, leave me a comment and I will email you! 

Thanks for reading.

Goodbye

November 4, 2009

I’m ending this blog.

I’ve said some things here that hurt the one person in the world who matters the most to me and I can’t have that.  For the sake of my marriage and the best husband in the world, I’m done writing publicly about my grief, losses and failures.

I will leave the blog up so that you can contact me via email if you don’t have my personal address.  I will also stay in touch by reading the posts on your blogs. 

Thanks to all the wonderful people who have read, commented, cried, sympathized, empathized and in general, been an amazing support system.

And finally, if you are my people, I hope you find peace and happiness.

All my love,

Martha

The Room

November 2, 2009

It’s there.  In the house.  The room that was to be the boys’ room.  It’s filled with baby boy clothes, toys, a crib, a car seat, broken dreams, dashed hopes, lots of sadness.  I haven’t set foot in that room since we moved in.  The crib was never set up in there, the decorations never hung on the wall, the walls never painted.  I can’t even tell you what the closet looks like in there – the last time I saw it, I was pregnant and we didn’t own the house and now, I can’t really remember life before April 8th. 

I walk past the door about 14 times a day and I think, “I’m never going to get in that room.”  I lay in bed at night and I can see the door from where I lay and I think, “I’m never going to get up in the middle of the night, pad across the hall, scoop up my crying baby and rock him back to sleep.  It’s never going to happen for me.”  I lay there, not sleeping, staring at the door.

This is my life now.  Trying to live with my disappointment.  Trying to survive this loss.  I thought I was doing okay but really, these last few weeks…I’m not.  I’m not okay.  I want so badly to look at the people around me and say, “help me.  Please, help me.  I’m hurt and I can’t go to the doctor to fix it because it’s deep down inside….they won’t know what to do for me…Someone please just take me in your arms and hold me, let me cry…”  I have conversations with people about the weather, books, shopping, whatever but my eyes are searching their faces, begging, “please, ask me how I am…ask me about them…ask me if I’m okay….but only if your prepared for the answer…I can’t freely give this information if you don’t mean it when you ask the question, if you are not prepared for the answer then don’t ask…”

But I don’t.  I’m supposed to be better.  I’m supposed to be moving forward.  The people around me, they have lives, they can’t be taking care of me.  I have to take care of myself and Hubby.  I’ve always taken care of myself.  Always.  I have to be strong, I can’t fall apart again.

I want to get into that room…I want a baby to hold and cuddle and love who will live in that room but I fear that will never happen.  I want my boys and I KNOW that won’t happen.

 

Silver

October 29, 2009

I have moments where I think “it didn’t really happen.  I didn’t really lose my boys.”  I do, really, all these months later – over a year later – I still think, “it didn’t happen.” 

I saw the lady with the silver in her hair at Fosters again.  I’m a little fascinated by her.  I sat there, watching her read her book, eating her sandwich and I thought, “that will be me in a couple of years.”  I’m so far lost in grief and disappointment that I can’t see soccer games, birthday parties and Halloween costumes.  I just see aging – getting older without children to run after.

I don’t know when I starting losing the ability to see a future that has a child in it.  Just last month I was thinking about and actually talking about playing the violin for my baby….now, I just can’t imagine it.  I try really hard to see our baby and all I see are my boys.

Squashed…

October 28, 2009

That’s how I feel.  I feel squashed.  Hopes, dreams, desires, everything just feels squashed.  I can’t even breathe right now, I’m just so defeated and deflated.  I continue to try and find options for financing for adoption and I think that I’m out of options.  A personal loan is the only thing I can think of that I haven’t tried and no one is giving personal loans.  Hell, Hubby couldn’t even get student loans this year without his mother cosigning for him and they used to hand that money out like it was prostitute advertisements on the Vegas Strip.  My last ditch effort was trying to take a loan against my life insurance policy and I was denied (haven’t had the policy long enough).

I haven’t felt this bad in a while.  When the world around you seems to be moving forward and you feel stuck, it’s hard not to feel bad.  I hate feeling sorry for myself, I hate it.  I’m trying to be proactive and do something to ensure that the boys will have brothers and sisters.  I’m trying but I can’t do anything right.  I can’t make money grow on trees or my fucked up genes split properly and aligned with each other so as to produce a beautiful sibling for A and B. 

Compounding this is that I want to be happy for all of my pregnant friends but the ones that haven’t had losses, it’s hard to get excited for them.  I know that sounds screwed up.  I totally understand that some of you might read that and think, “what a bitch.”  Those women get to be part of a club that I will never belong to…”the blissfully ignorant shiny new baby mommy club.”  Not me, I will never get that again.  Fine, I’m a bitch.   And that’s totally not fair to those women because I would hate for anyone to feel as bad as I do right now.  I wouldn’t wish this on anyone – not my worst enemy…so I’m considerate and sweet and post congratulations and send cards and gifts when all I really want to do it scream, “I’M SO PISSED OFF AT THE UNIVERSE RIGHT NOW I CAN’T STAND IT!!!!”

I think to myself, “I really want to be pregnant again and you know, this will be THE month it happens” and I smile like a jackass.  And then negative me counters with, “get pregnant all you want, honey, you will never make it to 40 weeks – hell, you won’t make it past 8 weeks.”  And there are lots of tears alone in the car.  What do I do with negative me?  She’s right, that’s the thing, she’s right.  All I know is that I fear getting pregnant but I want to be pregnant more than anything but one thing – I just want my boys back.

Daydreaming…

October 27, 2009

I posted this over at Glow in the Woods and then thought that many of  you might like to read it as well…

This afternoon, I sat at Fosters having a bowl of soup and daydreaming.  I love Fosters.  It’s bright and airy and reminds me of a coffee place I used to go to when I was in college.  I can smell espresso and pastries and pizzas being made in the oven.  There are large open tables with mis-matched chairs and college students, studying history or math or something.  Probably chemistry.  I hated chemistry.  They have their futures in front of them, I think, bright shiny futures – futures full of promise, hope, good times and hopefully, nothing bad will ever happen to these people.  Just as they are sitting here at these tables with the mis-matched chairs, wallowing in clean, pure, happy youth, I sat at tables with mis-matched chairs many years ago.  Years and years ago it feels like.  So long ago that I feel like that wasn’t even me – I’m not the same person I was back then.  I dreamed of working as an environmental attorney, I struggled with my math homework, I dated someone who didn’t appreciate me for me, and I made bad choices (that ended up having benign consequences looking back).  I dreamed of getting married to a wonderful man and having babies, living in a house, not struggling to pay my bills.

Some of what I dreamed has happened – the amazing husband, the cute house that’s all mine.  Some of what I hoped for hasn’t.  Actually, I guess it did but not in the way I thought it would.  I look in the mirror and I’m not that girl in a coffee house in San Diego wondering what I’m going to wear to our next formal because I can’t really afford a new dress.  I’ve gained weight, gone is my cute little size 6 self that ran the beach in a bikini without thought.  I’ve got gray hairs that refuse to stay hidden under an expensive dye-job.  I’ve got pain in my eyes.  It’s the eyes that are the most different, I think.  I don’t have wrinkles like you might think.  Instead, I have a hollowness – an emptiness – that looks back at me from the other side of the mirror.  It’s all my pain and grief and anger and loss and it’s manifested in my eyes.  I smile at people and that smile doesn’t reach my eyes like it used to.

I look around amongst all of these young, bright faces and see another woman sitting alone.  She’s clearly older than I am as evidenced by the fact that she’s lost her battle with gray hair and surrendered to a lovely silver running through her brown curls.  She’s reading (or maybe, like me, pretending to read).  I catch her eye and smile.  She smiles back but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes either.  I wonder, “what happened to you?  Why do you have pain?  Did your babies die too?”

It all comes back to them.  My boys and the fact that they died.

No amount of daydreaming in a coffee house can change that fact or the pain in my eyes.

Spiraling…

October 26, 2009

Yup, that’s me.  I’m spiraling into sadness once again.   This is just another month where I’m plotting and planning when Hubby and I are supposed to do ‘it.”  Yet again, I think “I shouldn’t have to be worrying about this….I should have two little boys to fuss over for Halloween.”

But I don’t.

The unconfirmed loss of last month has left me reeling…again….but why?  Why shouldn’t I be used to these losses?  Realistically, this is going to be our life – our reality –  until we conceive and carrying again past 23 weeks, why am I not used to that fact yet?  These feelings of grief and loss are exacerbated by the fact that I found out we can’t refinance our home to pay for adoption costs.  Apparently home prices have dropped in the area and we don’t have enough equity to take out a loan to cover the costs of adoption.  What a surprise that something didn’t work out for us….I’m shocked (that’s sarcasm in case you are new to my blog – nothing goes the way it’s supposed to for me – the universe hates me). 

Oh and there may be a third thing contributing to my downward spiral….On Friday, I tried to have a conversation with my mother about adoption and for some fucked up reason, she asked me if I was pregnant.  Sidebar: she makes it sound like an accusation when she asks….”Are you preg-a-nant?”  She sounds out the syllables just like that.  It makes me feel like she’s disapproving of me….this is the woman who said, “I don’t know how I feel about that…” when she bullied me into telling her I was pregnant with the boys.  Anywho, why the fuck would I be talking to her about adoption if I was pregnant and then I remembered, I had been pregnant up until Monday.  Just a little bit anyway so prehaps it was a valid question.  Still, she switched the subject after I said no and wanted to discuss her dog.  I try to have a relationship with her but really, I’m just being polite now…I really feel like she doesn’t want to hear anything of substance.  It’s strange, I used to tell her everything…

I want so badly to be pregnant again.  I have a myriad of friends who are pregnant – some getting ready to deliver any day now.  I feel so angry and hurt and left out and why?  This shouldn’t be new to me…this is where I’ve been since April 8th, 2008.  I should be used to standing in the shadows, used to the fact that I envy people who are pregnant, I should be used to disappointment.

I feel like such a disappointment.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.