Okay, Well, Maybe Not…

August 26, 2009

We got the information on adoption over the weekend.  The amount of money required was not horrific.  The problem is that we need SOOOO much up front to even get started (I think, I can’t really understand the whole “process” since the information packet seemed to be a mish/mash of flyers).  I think we need to hear what they say at the information session.  It’s a lot of money to swing upfront and I don’t think we can borrow from family members even with the promise of the tax credit to pay it back.  I applied for an increase in my Care Credit card but I think it was such a large amount over what I had for my Lasik, they were like, “oh hell no lady…”  I also applied for a Visa from the National Adoption Foundation but I heard from the bank folks downstairs that no one is getting any credit from anywhere so I shouldn’t be surprised if it was denied…and it was….great….

So now I am looking into “additional income sources” to build up the adoption fund – no people, not porn…I am a Reiki practitioner (this is a good blog that talks about Reiki if you care http://reikiblogger.com/).  I did it in college to make some extra money and that was when no one knew what yoga was, let alone Reiki.  Basically paid my sorority dues.  The more I think about it, the more I wonder if getting back to Reiki would help with my own healing.   Part of me is scared because every time I have done treatments on myself, I’ve cried a lot and had a lot of “backlash” (basically it’s the grief and sadness working it’s way out but it’s still very painful).  I’m chicken to work through some of the stuff I need to work through but I know there will be no healing without it.  If I were my own client, I would scold me but I do enough self-hating on my own so I won’t add that to the list.  Now, I just need to see if this type of thing will fly in a recession…

I also wussed out on the group therapy session that I was going to attend with http://ourbabyboy25.blogspot.com/  I couldn’t face standing up and saying, “Hi, I’m Martha, my twin boys died and I’m really screwed up….”  I couldn’t do it this month.  I’ll work up to next month.  My friend, F heard me laugh today, she said it was something she hadn’t heard in months….I realized, I really don’t do it that often anymore…I’m treating life like a river and I’m just floating down it without any expectations.  It’s a nice image but not really how I’m used to living.  I want to look forward to the future but I can’t – actually, more accurately – I don’t know how.

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So I had a strange experience on Saturday – one that made me question some peoples’ parenting choices and also made me wonder when I do finally get another baby, if I will forget what it was like to want one so badly.

So to set the scene, my therapy dog, Quincy and I, volunteer at a local library as part of a program called, “Sit!  Stay!  Read!”  We spend an hour and a half to two hours with children who have difficulty reading and need extra practice.  The kids read to the dogs because the dogs have no judgment and it gets the kids excited about the library and books and reading.

We had been there about 30 minutes and had a couple of kids read to Quincy (he’s very popular because he’s big, shiny white and fluffy – he’s the canine version of a Panda bear and kids love him).  A girl, her sister and her mother approached us with their choices in books and ask to read to Quincy.  I said, “of course, he’d love that!”  Now Girl was about 11 years old, I think and Sister was probably 9 years old.  Girl pulled out “Multiple Bles8ings: Surviving to Thriving with Twins and Sextuplets” by Kate Gosselin.  I looked up for Mom and she appeared to have no problem with this…this book seemed a little odd for an 11 year old and a 9 year old but it’s not my place to comment on the book but I really, really wanted to.  Instead, I said that I thought it was a little long and did they have something else a little shorter.  Of course they did and pulled out “Eight Little Faces” by Kate Gosselin.  I said, “so, you guys are really interested in Jon and Kate Plus Eight?”  “Oh yes, we watched the show all the time, we are a little obsessed with them…”  Mom is shaking her head in agreement during this exchange…Alright, this seems like a strange show and not all that appropriate for pre-teen girls butl, I can’t argue that “Eight Little Faces” was too long because it’s essentially a picture book with a couple of words of encouragement from Kate Gosselin, so we got started….

Girl flipped to the middle and started reading about…..contentment.  Kate Gosselin was “writing” a quick, touchy-feely blurb about how difficult the first couple of months with the twins and then the sextuplets were and how she was now content with where she was in her life (granted people, this was way before Jon trucked off with someone else).  She was right where God wanted her to be and that if more people sought and found contentment, they would be as happy as her.  There was more to it but those words are what struck me….

I don’t have contentment.  I don’t have peace.  I feel like it’s easy for people who have what they most desire to say, if “you find contentment and peace, you will get what you want most.”  Now I don’t know Kate Gosselin’s struggle with infertility and I am sympathetic to that struggle but it seems to me, she more than anyone would know that contentment and peace don’t get you a baby.  She was lucky.  She could afford IVF.  All of her babies lived and are seemingly healthy.  She seems to have forgotten what it’s like to be on this side of the pregnancy test line.  And what’s worse, “writing” a book telling someone, “if you believe it, you will conceive” is just kind of mean…

I wonder, will I forget how bad this loss and this wait has hurt me when I finally get my baby?

The Joy of….

August 20, 2009

I recently wrote to someone that I have lost my joy.  The joy I used to have for life is gone and I don’t know how to get it back.  I have brief moments of happiness but other than that, I am an emotional wasteland of pain, anger, jealousy, rage, fear, and disappointment.  I have things that I am very grateful for (like Hubby, doggies, and my wonderful friends – both physical and bloggy) but that’s not the same as joy.  I feel like a candle whose light has been snuffed out and can’t be relit.

I sobbed last night in therapy, begging the therapist and Hubby to tell me what to do to feel better, to not hurt, to get my joy back, to have some peace.  I will do anything, just tell me what to do, I said.  We talked a lot about negative and irrational self-talk aka the mean, nasty voices that I hear telling me that the boys were it, I get no other children, I’m broken and defective – you know, the good stuff.  I’m supposed to counter that with “a dispute.”  So if my head tells me, “You are never going to have another child,” I’m supposed to dispute that with, “I will have another child.”  I’ll try it.

The therapist really latched on to the idea of adoption.  She ran with that idea, offering to help us find resources and contacts and then she alluded to the fact that she didn’t think I was emotionally capable of conceiving and carrying a child in my present state and that we might need to take a break while exploring adoption.  That really hurt.  Prehaps it’s true but it still hurt.  I sort of shutdown at that point.  I’m not willing to give up the idea of getting pregnant and carrying a child right now.  Hubby and I agreed to keep trying while exploring the possiblity of adoption.  Her comment sort of overshadowed any excitement that I was feeling for making the decision to try to adopt and left me feeling sad and hurt (thus, possibly, proving her point that I am an emotionally fragile mess that needs electro-shock therapy). 

Along those same lines and possibly providing more evidence for Therapist’s theory, was the fact that I got a message last night from IAC (Independent Adoption Centers) that the information session we signed up for was full.  It wasn’t full when I signed up for it 5 days ago on their website but it is now.  Yeah, no idea how that works.  We are on the wait list for that session and signed up for the October 3rd session.  I was so upset and disappointed that I had to have Hubby return the call out of fear that my anger and snippiness towards the “keeper of the babies” would harm our chances of sitting down with these people.  Again, probably not the rational response the rest of the world would have but I’m starting to understand that not much of what goes on in my head these days is rational.

I’m an irrational, joyless, emotionally fragile lostbabymama and at this point, I think we can safely say, I’m not even surviving anymore….I’m in real trouble, aren’t I?

Hope…

August 14, 2009

It is a funny thing, isn’t it?  I feel like all of you understood what I was trying to convey yesterday – I really appreciate that.  I want to be positive, I want to look forward to a future where I am pregnant for longer than a minute and it results in a live birth.  I want that, I really, really do.  However, my frustration is two-fold, I think. 

First, I have issues with this idea that with a positive outlook and a smile, I can somehow influence what will happen in this world.  If that were the case, I would have two living, breathing, healthy one year old boys and I don’t.  I begged, I pleaded, I made deals with the universe and the universe didn’t care – the boys died.  I had an army of people praying, being positive, hoping that my boys would be okay and it didn’t work.  I also understand that the therapist is not blaming me for not being pregnant because I don’t have a happy outlook on the whole situation.  I don’t feel like there is any judgment.  Any guilt or anger that I feel is self-made.  My friend F and I have talked about the idea that my grief could be acting as a barrier to getting pregnant again and I agree that it’s not healthy.

Second and I think, more prominent in my emotional psyche is the fact that I start to cry whenever anyone talks about Hubby and I having more children.   I think that the therapist is thinking that the only way to work through the grief is to hope for the one thing that is causing the grief – a baby.  Except that won’t work.  My grief is caused by the death of my boys.  I’m want a baby with my husband but that’s not the reason why I cry in the shower.  I cry because I want my boys and there is nothing anyone can do about that.  I’m have that moment every two year old has when she’s given a beautiful ice cream cone with two scoops and she drops it.  Even if you replace the cone, I’m still crying over the one I lost.  I want my boys.  It’s not rational and I don’t know what to do about that.  Maybe the therapist does.

And maybe this why when I look at adoption websites, I can’t take the next step.  Or maybe I’m not willing to give up on my fertility.  There is an information session in Raleigh on September 12th for an adoption organization that would work with us in terms of money.  I’ve thought about going but I haven’t talked to Hubby.  I can’t even think about pursuing that path without talking to him extensively.  I’m afraid it would look like I’m giving up.  I’m not.  I don’t want to give up.  I want to be pregnant again and have a baby with Hubby.  I don’t want my only memories of being pregnant and giving birth to be what they are now.  But practical me also knows that this is taking a long time and Hubby and I want 2 children.  I’m not getting any younger and those screwy eggs of mine, they aren’t getting any fresher. 

But that makes it sound like I want just any baby and I will feel better if I just get A BABY and all will be right with the world.  I know that’s not the case because when I look at the websites, I think about the boys AND they are what I want. 

I can’t move forward and I can’t get back what I’ve lost and I don’t know what to do.

I’m Trying….

August 13, 2009

to be hopeful.  I know it doesn’t seem like it but I am.  I promise, I am.  It’s so hard because you aren’t in my head.  You don’t hear the things that I hear – “I’m broken, I’m defective, I can’t make a single good egg that won’t result in a dead baby, I had my babies and now that’s it, I don’t get anymore, my body betrayed me and the boys died” – you don’t hear that.  I do.  Daily.  Almost hourly, if we are being honest.

The therapist wants me to be able to visualize having a family in a positive manner.  We had the whole discussion again about being positive and if I think I won’t get pregnant, then it will be become a self-fulfilling prophecy and I won’t get pregnant.  I’m not not having a baby because I’m emotional stunted.  I’m not have a baby because I have a genetic condition in which 2/3 of my pregnancies end in miscarriage.  I’ve been trying for the last 3 months to get back to where I was when I got pregnant with the boys.  We were finally free of money troubles, living in a nice place, I had lost 15 pounds….I’ve been working to get back to that but I’m starting to get frustrated because I feel like my attitude isn’t going to change the genetics.  That’s where my hopelessness stims from.  I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel and I don’t know what is going to make me see that light.  I’m willing to try but…

And it doesn’t help that I am already grumpy from fucking fertility meds that I was so HOPEFUL would produce extra eggs with the correct genetic material.

Lost

July 14, 2009

I really do feel like I’m losing it.  I’m angry and sad and frustrated and I cry a lot.  “Sounds like depression,” you say, and I would agree with you if I wasn’t being medicated for depression already and seeing a therapist.  I mean who has lists of baby names in their head but no baby yet?  Who has visions of having twins again, knowing the likelihood of it happening again is slim?  Who dreams of babies who are long, long gone?  I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I put a lot of hope and faith in the Clomid and twice now, it’s not worked.  I feel like we did everything right and it didn’t work.  We probably did do everything right.  I know that you can do everything right every month and it still won’t happen right away (unless you are any number of my friends and my sister in law and then, rest assured, you will get pregnant within minutes of deciding you want to be…do I sound bitter?  That’s because I am and I don’t care…).  We have one more month of Clomid and my understanding is that it’s magical powers will stay in my system for up to 60 days.  After that, I don’t think I want anymore.  The side effects suck and I still have no baby(ies)…I can have no baby(ies) and not feel physically like crap sans Clomid, thank you very much.

I’m tired of whining and crying, I’m tired of friends having to pick up the pieces, I’m tired of all of you having to be my cheerleaders…I know that I need to get over this, I keep telling myself that but I just don’t know what to do to feel better…

I’m truly feeling lost….

Passing Me By…

July 13, 2009

The world around me keeps moving forward and I can’t.  I don’t know what’s happened in the last 2 weeks that has made me feel as bad I did when we first lost the boys.  I can’t shake these overwhelming feelings of sadness and loss and hopelessness.  Maybe it’s because everyone around me is having a baby.  Maybe it’s that their due date is approaching again.  They would be a year old in 3 weeks.  Even people who have lost babies are getting pregnant again.  Why not me?  How is this my life?  How the hell did I get here?  What did I do to deserve this?

The Clomid didn’t work this month.  I spent the whole weekend crying.  I haven’t cried as hard or for as long as I did on Saturday and Sunday in a really long time.  It was the “crying so hard you gag” sobbing that some of you may be familiar with, the strangled sobbing that makes the puppy curl up next to you out of fear that something is really wrong with you…luckily, the eyelashes seem to have stayed put.  The same words keep running through my head, “the boys were it.  They were the only children you are going to get.  You blew it.  You some how screwed this up for you and Hubby.  You don’t get any more babies.  You can’t afford adoption and  IVF won’t help you.  You are done being a mother.”

It’s sad but that’s the truth – that’s what is going on in my head.  I’m losing hope.  As much as I know people are rooting for me, praying for me, and comforting me…I just don’t know how to hang on anymore.  I just keep remembering how stupidly happy I was when we got pregnant with the boys on the first try.  So stupid of me to think that things would work out.  I should have twin year old baby boys right now.  I don’t.

I have one more month of the Clomid but I’m not taking it this month.  My ability to predict ovulation has been really off (no idea if it was the tests or me or what) and Hubby will be out of town the last week in July and first week in August so I figure, we do it before he leaves and if ovulation happens after, well, so be it but we won’t have wasted the last month of Clomid on this cycle.

I doubt I will ask the doctor for anymore unless Hubby wants me to, I just can’t keep riding this roller coaster anymore.

The “it will happen when it happens” policy isn’t working for me and there is nothing anyone can do about it.