Everyone I have called lately to vent about how hopeless I feel in this quest for a child has said the same thing - Trust that what happens is supposed to happen. It's a variation on the saying "everything happens for a reason". I've always thought that was bullshit, I still do. The people I'm close to that can understand this situation are all very spiritual. I am not. I believe in a higher power that created the miracle of life but then pretty much left it to do its own thing. I believe that people can have some effect on things by giving positive or negative energy to it, but I don't believe someone can change something just because they wish to and believe in God. That just means that when the baby still dies and the phone still doesn't ring that I didn't pray hard enough, or that I wasn't worthy. Why should I do that to myself? Wishing isn't going to make a child. Relaxing isn't going to make a child. So all those well meaning stuffed shirts can just go stuff themselves.
I have come to a decision today. I am obviously depressed and not handling this well. I need help. I'm going to look into counseling again but more importantly I'm going to give myself permission to stop fighting. It seems like that is all I have done for the last seven years. Fight for my body to work, fight for my babies to survive, fight for my husband to be a partner, fight to find a child that would fit in our home. I am really fucking tired. I feel like I am killing myself by slow degrees. I don't enjoy my life at all right now. I go through the motions but I'm not even trying in my marriage.
So I quit. I won't try to convince my husband that he is making this impossible with all of his ridiculous restrictions. I won't try to get pregnant by making myself sick with drugs. I won't continuosly call the useless adoption coordinator to make sure our names are actually on the list she keeps losing. I won't search the web for pictures of children with case workers that never call anyone back. I'll keep our home study updated and go to adoption picnics but I'm not going to kill myself trying to MAKE this happen.
To my well meaning friends this will look like acceptance. It will look like I am finally relaxing and letting whatever happens, happen. But that's not it at all. I am going forward with the assumption that I will never have another child. I'm going to grieve that loss now so I can get on with my life. Then if a miracle occurs I can be happy about it. I suspect this grief will be just as powerful as it was when Aiden died. I suspect it may take even longer to get through. But although I am very sad and still angry right now, I don't have that crushing axiety that there is something that I can do to change this. I'm not as powerful as I'd like to be. This sucks and it hurts almost as much as watching my baby die. I guess to some giving up is acceptance. To me it is just one more failure in a very long list. One that I think I can get past eventually, but it doesn't hurt any less. I just hope I can hang on to the giving up part while still leaving the door open for miracles. Having hope is the worst torture of all and one I'd like to be well rid of.
So - commiseration is always welcome but please don't tell me it will all work out.