Friday, July 29, 2011

Where to go from here?

I'm not sure what to do about this blog. I've had so much support here that I don't want to move it, and I don't want to leave it behind because pretty much everything I have of Aiden is here, but I'm faced with a dilemma. The way Aiden died was tragic and horrible, and because people can be closed-minded and stupid, controversial. I'm worried if I open up fully to the adoption community that I will start getting the types of hate mail I worried about in the beginning. Back then I was looking for someone to fight so I probably would have relished a troll or two, but now I don't know that I have the energy to defend my decisions.

I recently started following blogs of people that adopted from foster care. I've been looking for blogs like this for some time but only recently found the message boards that these people frequent. I subscribed to a few but left my subscriptions annonymous. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. Chances are these women are largely infertile and many probably know what loss is. I kind of doubt a person willing to take in foster children would be cruel to a random stranger on the internet, but I hesitated. It's one thing to trust my pain and sadness to this wonderful community of mothers who have lost babies, it's another to open myself wider. I feel kind of fragile right now, but I need to speak with people that are going down this road I'm about to travel. This is a decision that will take some time to make, I think. For now I will remain here and hope that I continue to find such loving and supportive women.

My state of mind is slightly better. I'm still really angry but that has been helped by having a good target. My crazy neighbor at work has been actively trying to piss me off the last week and I find myself all too happy to engage. I've managed to keep it below our manager's notice but I'll have to be careful not to let it get out of hand. In the meantime it's nice to have something tangible to be angry about that doesn't involve self hate. I am afraid to sleep. I'm taking large doses of melatonin hoping I won't remember my dreams. Last night I was recovering from some horrible stomach bug and dreamed that I was going to the store to get a pregnancy test because I thought (in my dream) that the puking meant I was pregnant, period be damned. I woke up confused and wondering if I had any tests still in the drawer.

I got to work today just feeling exhausted and hopeless. I managed to shake some of it off after hearing about the most heartbreaking story. One of the girls we inquired about is still available and the heart gallery coordinator told us a little about her. She is in foster care for the SECOND time because her adoptive mother died. I cried when I read that. How much trauma is one little girl supposed to handle? And one of the main things they want to know when you adopt is how your children will be cared for if something like this happens. What was wrong with that woman that she didn't have a plan? It's possible the girl's behaviors are very hard to deal with (big surprise, poor baby) and the person that was supposed to care for her gave her up, but that's even worse. Gah! It just kills me hearing all these stories. Parents are supposed to protect their children. These kids should not be where they are, which is of course why we are doing this. But I can't take them all. I can't take the ones that are so hurt that they lash out at everyone around them. How I wish I could because those are the ones that need a family the most. I keep thinking of how I was when my mom was suicidal and I was running away. If I had been in foster care (I almost was) my file would have been full of red flags. Who would have taken me? But I find myself in the position of having to be picky, because I have to protect the child we already have. That seems particularly ironic right now. How I wish I had the answers or a magic ball. I have a feeling I am just beginning to learn what hard is.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Tomorrow was not better

I hurt, just about everywhere. The pain medicine that I took so I could at least go to the bathroom without screaming has caused my stomach to cramp every time I eat. My heart hurts, my brain hurts, and my stupid uterus REALLY hurts. All of that is pretty secondary to the anger right now. I still really want to hurt someone or something. Surely there is something/someone (besides me) that I can blame, something I can do to get this poison out. I have been exceptionally hard to get along with since Thursday. Even though I recognize that I'm taking my anger out on everyone around me I can't seem to stop it. I'm wondering if maybe I need to be back on AD's. This is an awful lot like the anger I had after Aiden died. Maybe after my mom's suicide attempts I'm so afraid of depression that I just get angry instead. I suppose that's better for me, but it makes it harder on everyone else.

I had a talk with my husband that really crushed what hope I had left. I asked him months ago if he would consider respite-only foster care. I was trying to avoid his fear of losing a child he cared about by making it strictly a temporary situation. I reasoned that it would be a good way to at least have babies in the house and we would meet more foster parents and case workers that might eventually lead to an infant adoption. I had forgotten when I asked him about this how he reacted to our neighbor's son after we lost Aiden. He refused to be left alone with him. He was extremely reluctant to interact with him at all. Even though we saw these people very frequently, I think he held the baby once the whole year we lived next door. He told me that he couldn't stand being around a baby that wasn't his. I took that to mean that the pain of holding a baby (especially a boy) was just too much for him. It never occurred to me that he would still feel that way. He's been putting me off on the respite care and I finally pushed him for an answer. He started crying and told me that he just can't have a baby in the house that we can't keep. He can't care for someone else's child. He didn't want to tell me because he didn't want to take away my hope.

I told him that I would never force him to do something he wasn't comfortable with. I told him that wouldn't be fair to anyone in the family. I didn't tell him that he was right. Any hope I had that I would someday have a baby in this house, in our family, is gone. I didn't tell him because it wouldn't be fair; he already feels horrible that he can't give me what I want so I didn't want to add to that. But the loss of hope isn't even what made yesterday so hard. It was the confirmation that we are not on the same page. He admitted to me that he doesn't care if we never have another baby. He said he was sad we couldn't get pregnant but that adopting an older child was a perfectly acceptable alternative to him. We are not even on the same planet. I desperately NEED another baby. Older child adoption was never an alternative to having a baby for me; it was supposed to be in addition to. I wanted to do it because I want a larger family and I really want to provide a family for a child that has been waiting far too long, but I still want a baby. The two things are not really related in my mind. When I thought of my family when I was younger, I thought of two babies, followed by adopted older children when the babies were old enough to understand. I was never set on my children being biologically mine, but I was set on them being babies, at least the first two. Now it seems that I will only ever have that one experience (which I thank the universe for every day) of parenting an infant. It’s just heartbreaking. I thought I could find a way around this failure of biology, but it can’t be done. And a tiny but kind of loud part of my brain keeps whispering that I could do it on my own. Not that I would ever in a million years leave just so I could have a baby (I kind of doubt that would work out anyway) but the horrible little thought is there. What is wrong with me?

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Trying to get drunk enough to stop the tears

I hate crying myself to sleep. I especially hate it when my oblivious spouse is snoring beside me. So I got back up and am currently working on my fourth glass of wine for the evening. I spent dinner pleasantly drunk but the buzz wore off before bed. I realize I sound like a major alcoholic right now, but I don't really care. Given my stupid useless body's poor response to most medication, alcohol is really the only relief I get from crippling cramps when my period starts. It just so happens that today I am in mourning and the haze is especially welcome.

By the way - for all of you ladies with severe endo like I have - you have to try cataflam. It works amazingly well. Of course, if you are sensitive to NSAIDS like I am you will think you are having a heart attack when the acid reflux kicks in, so you have to pick your poison. Hence the alcohol. I'd rather deal with the wine hangover than the severe chest pain for days.

I wish there was someone around here I could talk to that gets this. (Hope - if you're reading I don't mean to exclude you - pregnant people are hard to be around right now. I hope you understand, and I hope everything is going well for you). The friends I could call include 2 pregnant women, one of whom is unemployed (along with her husband) and purposely got pregnant with her third when the second isn't even two yet, a 37 year old virgin, a woman who couldn't be bothered to take the pill and has had several abortions, and my sister who has access to the best medical money can buy. You can see that I have trouble with resentment in pretty much all these cases. I realize I sound like a stuck up bitch but I know when something will cause more harm than good.

I feel stupid for being this upset. I knew this was the likely outcome. I already have a 5 year old miracle. There are so many worse problems to have. But no matter how long I lecture myself it doesn't change the image in my head, the image of a baby that didn't even make it past a pound, who's head was so fluid filled I was afraid it would break open just from me holding him. I KNOW that having another baby won't make that go away, I just don't want that to be the end to this story.

It would really help if my husband would get a clue and NOT solicit sex from me when I am hurting this bad over my body's failure. He has never gotten the hint that since Aiden died I have equated sex with making a baby and him asking for it when it is clear it is just for recreation is not helping me. It's not that I don't love him or find him attractive, it's that I don't love ME. I am broken, and fat, and ugly, and useless. I have absolutely no desire to remind myself that sex will not get me what I want most. I just can't separate it the way he can, I wish I could.

I didn't expect to be so angry. I hope the days ahead get better. I almost lost it at work today. One of my very liberal co-workers was complaining about a draconian abortion law and I (very stridently) pointed out the most women find out something is wrong at 20 weeks, at which point there are no options in this area. If he didn't know how my baby died before, he probably does now. I cried all the way home and can't seem to stop. I was reminded again that the state I live in would have been happy to force me to be a life support machine, but wouldn't have helped at all once the baby was born with so many horrible problems. How can a baby with no stomach be considered viable?

Anybody have sad/angry song recommendations? I think I will need some more music therapy in the next few weeks.

I think I am drunk enough to sleep now. Tomorrow is another day.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Irreversibly Broken

I started today. So yesterday was the last day that there was any hope that I might some day hold an infant of mine again.

I am beaten by this thing. I'm so fucking angry that I can't contain it. It spills into everything. I can't deal with my daughter's sudden defiant streak. I can't deal with my husband's thoughtlessness or my crazy co-worker's ridiculous problems. I want to get roaring drunk and hide for a few days. I want to scream and cry and HURT SOMETHING.

There seems to be no release. The people I am close to can't seem to STOP getting pregnant. Even my own husband doesn't get it. I just told him yesterday that I would start today or tomorrow and he couldn't figure out why I was in a bad mood today. I think he still doesn't understand that I'm not just disappointed. This isn't another bump. This is the giant fucking concrete wall on the edge of the grand canyon. There is no more maybe, no hope, no miracle. There is so very little chance of ever having the cash for a medicated cycle or a private adoption. He won't consider legal risk or foster care, which is the only way to get an infant from foster care. So this end is much more final than all the others. I think part of me hates him for not being crushed like I am.

I am determined that this won't stop our family from growing. But I will always deeply mourn that the last time I held an infant of mine he was cold and still and so very, very small.

This blog will be changing. I am putting all this energy into our foster adoption. I don't expect much from this because I am so afraid of losing again. But I hope some of you will follow me on this new journey.

P.S. As bitter and angry as I am right now, I still want to hear about your little miracles. I just may need to take a break now and then.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

really done?

That's it for me and fertility medicines in pill form. After a bad reaction to clo.mid and now two cycles of severe migraines with Fe.mara, no RE in their right mind will let me try them again. It's not like I would anyway. I do think my life is more valuable than bearing a child. But is hurts, a lot, to know that my chances of another baby are now infinitesimally small.

I had a little hope that this last ditch cycle might work, but my husband is working in the field this week. It's 95+ outside. He's working in fatigues on the beach. Guess what he is cooking while he's out in the searing heat all day long? You guessed it, the one thing that seems to actually be working, his sperm.

I hate that he doesn't care enough about our chances to reschedule his workload. Yeah, he would have to make something up for his boss - but he can't fake a cold for one lousy week? I'm pissed and hurt that he is saving all of his spending money to buy a $400 gun and it never occurred to him to put that towards a cycle. Every time he mentions the extra paycheck we will get this month, he talks about stuff he wants to buy. Frivolous stuff. Crap that we don't need and might not even use very often. I get that he is tired of living paycheck to paycheck and wants to enjoy his money a little more. Yeah, it sucks that we can't go buy something just because we like it. We have both lived that way our entire lives. But, for the first time ever we have a savings account and our debt is actually decreasing and all I really want is a baby. No matter how many times I tell him that, it just doesn't sink in. I don't think it's that he doesn't want one. It's that he really doesn't understand that I have an expiration date (if I haven't already passed it) or he thinks it will just happen if I "relax".

After 3 years and 7 medicated cycles and no live baby, how the hell can he expect a different outcome? I don't even know what to say to him.

So maybe this is the final, really real, really, really real end point. I don't want it to be. I hope I'm wrong*.

* I know - I keep saying I'm at the end of the road. I just can't seem to give up, even when it is obvious I should. Is there anyway to cure that?