Monday, March 28, 2011


I've been thinking about secrets today. My co-workers don't know that we chose to end the pregnancy with Aiden. I only told them that he died. I keep wanting to tell one in particular because he keeps sending me articles about horrible anti-choice legislation hoping that I will call or write to protest. I'm not sure if he suspects that we had to make that choice or just knows that my political and moral leanings are pretty similar to his, but I would like him to know exactly how personal it is to me. I'm scared to though. I've held this secret very close. My sister knows - she paid for the procedure and held me while I cried. My mom knows - I knew without doubt the she would support me. I have 4 very close friends who know because I trusted them with my heart, even if I wasn't sure if they fully agreed with our decision.

My father doesn't know. My brother doesn't know. My catholic grandfather and Aunt don't know. I don't know why I never told them. I think most of them would understand and not judge. But I'm not positive. 'Probably' was far too risky when I was feeling so very fragile. Even now I don't think I could handle my choice being questioned by someone I loved. I saw what that did to my husband when his best friend from high school made a judgmental comment. I don't think he's spoken to her since.

I don't know where I am now with this secret. Saturday we spent some time with my husband's friend from childhood that he recently reconnected with. He and his family have welcomed us with open arms and tell us that they consider us family. They know we lost a son, but not exactly how. We have not wanted to tell them because they are very religious and we are not sure how they would react. I'd like to think that it wouldn't matter. You know that old saying - the friends who matter won't care, and the friends who care don't matter? It's crap. It would hurt us deeply if these friends didn't support our decision. And what if they outright rejected our friendship because they believe what we did in compassion is a mortal sin? How would we explain that to our daughter who is in love with their family? But not telling them opens a little gap of mistrust, and it bothers me sometimes.

This friend, lets call him Fred, has a large family. On Saturday I was at the store with Fred's wife and sister in law. It turns out that the sister in law had 8 babies die. One was a twin that was anencephalic. She told me that it was god's gift that the baby didn't live to be born, that she didn't have to care for a dying infant. That really, really hurt to hear because I PRAYED that Aiden would let go so that I wouldn't have to make such a horrible decision and he would die in peace and not suffer. I wanted to tell her how lucky she was but I was sure, by the things she said, that she wouldn't understand. Just as I can't comprehend watching a baby of mine die that way, I don't think she could comprehend directly causing the death of her baby - no matter how sick it was. Many days I think she has the easier outlook. But I also think I did the right thing.

It's hard, keeping this secret. Thank you so much for letting me share it here without judgement.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


I think I am getting depressed again. It is all this damn waiting. Supposedly we will be assigned a case worker for our home study by the end of the month (not holding my breath), and my very first fertility appointment is at the end of April. It feels like it will never get here. I've been very negative lately about our chances of getting any kid at all. I keep expecting the universe to screw us again, which is why I think I am getting depressed.

I don't know what to do now. My doctor is an ass and I just don't have the energy to find another one. Of the literally dozens of doctors, therapists, and psychologists I have seen in my lifetime, there have been less than 5 good ones. That doesn't bode well for my chances of finding someone who can actually help me.

I have a horrible fucking migraine and I'm spotting again. 10 days without bleeding - that's a new record.

I almost deleted this because I'm sick of the complaining. But, hey - it's my blog. Why else am I writing it except to work through all this crap?

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Believing in miracles

I'm not religious - probably even somewhat anti-religion. After my son died I wished often that I had some type of faith to fall back on. I felt so incredibly alone.

I do have a belief in a higher power, a purpose to our existence, and that we continue on in some form after death. I was able to take some solace in those beliefs, especially after this happened:

(Originally posted on Glow in the Woods)

I'm sitting here, home sick from work, writing sad and angry posts. It is a lovely day and I have both doors open to the breeze. I heard a rustle and looked up, and there in the kitchen, looking happy and mischievous, is the little wren that I named my son after. It feels like Aiden stopped to check in on me and tell me not to be sad. What a gift.

Just so no one is alarmed - the wren flew right back out again. I didn't want it to get caught in the house but I kind of hope he stops back in.
March 8, 2010 | jen

I don't remember if I wrote about this here, but the reason we chose Wren as a middle name for our son was because there was a Carolina Wren that sang on the fence just outside my window every morning after Aiden died. I had never noticed him before that, he just appeared a few days after we came home. When I watched that bird I felt peaceful and connected to my baby. It felt like he was there with me, watching that bird, maybe whispering to it to sing me a little song. So when that wren flew in the door that spring day last year, it was a message to me.

When we moved this past January, just days after Aiden's birthday, I was so sad to have to leave that wren (and his family, they had nested in my strawberries that year). Carolina wrens are very common birds and it's pretty easy to attract them, so I had plans to put up feeders and houses until I got a breeding pair at our new house.

Then something amazing happened.

My husband called me at work the day after we moved in. He was crying and he said, "you won't believe what I found in the house." He told me he heard something and went to investigate and found a Carolina wren flying around the house. He didn't have any idea how it got in and was able to take a picture. It still makes me cry to think of this. What are the chances of that happening twice in two different houses, right on the days when I really, really needed to have my baby with me?

So even if I don't believe in a God that watches over us and has "a plan", I do believe in miracles. And I believe my son is out there, bringing smiles to his mommy just like his big sister does.

Monday, March 7, 2011

That look

I know that look.

You see a baby in a stroller, in a cart, in someone's arms. You look, even though you know you shouldn't. Your head follows the baby. You never notice if the parents are nervous, all you see is the baby.

Maybe you are thinking he/she might look like that. Maybe you are thinking that it's just not fair. Maybe you are thinking, that will never be me.

But the look is the same.

The half smile, the distant look, the wince of deep pain.

It never gets better. It never gets easier. If you are lucky you have someone standing next to you that knows that look and will hold you while you cry.

Note to self: Do not watch movies with barren women in them when drinking your way through a horrible period.

I feel like such a selfish bitch. I'm staying up late to keep an eye on my sick daughter. That WAS me with the adorable baby in a sling that you saw in the store. I'm sure I caused my share of jealous glances. But I still want more. I want the son I was expecting too.

I finished Julie and Julia, despite the sobbing. It was a cute movie. Now I'm going to sleep on the couch so I will hear if K gets sick again. The poor thing is sleeping upright in the recliner to control the horrible cough she has.

Good night, my lovely readers. If you know that look, I hope you won't know it for long.

Trying one more time

I still haven't heard anything from the foster adoption agency. The longer this is taking, the harder I find it to keep my nerve. I am very nervous about taking a child that will likely have severe emotional issues into our home. Above all else, I want my daughter to be safe. I don't want her to feel like she has to lock her bedroom door to keep her siblings from harming her. It's not that I think all kids that have been abused will be monsters (what would that make me?), it's just that I always think of the worst case scenario. I'm trying to have faith that I will be able to protect my daughter and any future children. I guess my biggest fear is making a mistake and further hurting an already very hurt child. Despite my fears, though, I find myself getting excited about the thought of parenting a teen.

But I still desperately want one last chance at an infant. I really don't care if it comes from my body, I would actually prefer not deliberately adding to the population burden on our planet. But. It's cheaper to grow a baby. Private adoptions are expensive and sometimes ethically questionable. We could get an infant if we were willing to foster but my husband won't budge on that. So it is back to me and my stupid, malfunctioning body.

I have been bleeding continuously since the end of November. Sometimes it will stop for a day or two but never longer than that. This is despite taking birth control for the last 3 1/2 months without taking the sugar pills. My doctor is giving me another, higher dose pill but doesn't want me on it for more than a month. I'm guessing the risk of blood clots and such is higher with the higher doses. So even if I wasn't trying to get pregnant again I think I would be taking this step. I have an appointment for an RE at the end of April. I figured he works with fucked up hormones all the time. He should at least be able to GET THIS FUCKING BLEEDING TO STOP. If I get knocked up along the way - hallelujah.

For today I am going to get cozy with a bottle of wine and my heating pad. I'll be busy telling the endo to fuck off.

I'm not holding my breath on the baby front. And I'm nearly certain a pregnancy wouldn't change my adoption plans at this point. I have invested a lot of time, thought and research into this option and despite my fears, it feels right. I will just have to be very, very careful that I don't end up causing a child we match with to think that we won't want him or her anymore if we happen to get a baby.