heart splitting open

My little girl is a master staller. When she doesn't want to go to bed she knows exactly what to say or do to stretch out the time. One of her most used techniques - and the most successful - is to talk about baby Aiden. Usually I answer her questions, tell her I miss him too, and tuck her into bed. Tonight I just spent 10 minutes muffling sobs and trying to get through her songs.

I had told her she would always be my baby and she said she was a big girl. I told her I remembered her being my little baby. She asked if I remembered baby Aiden and I said "I do."

She burst into tears and wailed, I don't!

-She didn't see him when he was born and I wonder if we should have let her.

Then she told me baby Aiden would never grow up and have a mustache like daddy.

She cried some more and asked me why we couldn't have another baby.

Yea.

That sound is all the splinters of my heart dropping on the floor.

I hate that I can't fix this. I hate that I have to tell her over and over and over that her baby brother is dead and never coming back. And if that isn't bad enough, she may never get to be a sister to a live sibling.

And the stupid cat ran away when we moved and hasn't been seen in 10 days.

I have so much more to get into - the move into the bigger house for more kids and the stalled adoption, the increasing fertility (now health) issues that could very well be related to the damn oil spill, the stress of possible job loss and various other things - I just can't get the time. I'm tired and stressed and right now have a massive migraine. I think I'll take the computer to work tomorrow and write up some posts. I think it's the only way I'll get what I need written.

Ripples

I am continually confounded by how many things in our every day lives were affected by our baby's death.

This morning I was crying about this post at Uppercase Woman. I've been reading her for years and feel so bad for the horrible decision she may have to make. It brought back a lot of the helplessness and rage I felt when we got Aiden's diagnosis. I was dwelling on that as I left my house this morning.

We're moving into our new, bigger house tomorrow. The house that we are getting so that we can adopt, because we didn't get the child we thought we would.

While trying to figure out our taxes I had to click past the 'add a dependent' link 3 fucking times.

I spent all day on the phone with the lawyer and the bank and the real estate broker and then the IRS, trying to figure out how the hell to claim the loss on the house that was taken in the bankruptcy. The bankruptcy we wouldn't have done if our baby had lived.

At the same time that I was stressing out about money and time and things that needed to be done I was thinking that we wouldn't be getting this fabulous new house if we had another mouth to feed (and higher daycare bills) right now. We may have even had to file bankruptcy anyway. We may actually be better off financially without the 8 month old I thought we would have by now.

It boggles the mind.

I found out today, when I was very stressed indeed, that my baby sister will not be coming to live in this area. Instead she is moving to Alaska. I have no hope of getting to Alaska and she may not get leave to come here. I am crushed by this news. She is the only family member I have left that is sane and not one of my abusers. I miss her horribly. I've seen her twice since my wedding in 2003 - once when I stayed with her for a week after losing my job and once when she came down here and stood with me to watch my son die. Less than happy, stress free visits. I wanted her here so badly. I don't have friends I can rely on when I have a bad day like this. I just wanted someone I loved to be near (other than my husband, of course).

Here's hoping tomorrow is a better day.

Seriously, does anything work around here?

I can't believe it. I gave up on my stupid body figuring out what to do and went on continuous BC to "suppress" ovarian function AND I AM STILL FREAKING BLEEDING!!

WTF!

I know if I call my gyn she will prescribe something with more hormones, which will make the side effects worse. Great.

I am so damn frustrated with my body and dealing with all the medical crap. I'm also tired of the constant whining I do on here.

So here is plan, oh - I don't know, maybe H?

I am going to stay on this pill for now and go get a massage and acupuncture. I will try that for two months. If there is still this stupid spotting I'll try the stronger pills for one cycle. At that point, 3 months from now, I will go to the RE. I will be 35. That number pisses me off. So does the number 7. 7 years of trying to get pregnant on my own. Two pregnancies, one baby. Obviously I am not all that good at this.

All of this is contingent on what happens with the adoption stuff. We are finally being assigned a caseworker to do our home study. I know a foster parent with an adorable 2 month old that is likely to enter TPR (termination of parental rights) soon so I'm hoping I can get my home study completed in time to express an interest. My husband flat out refuses to consider legal risk so the chances of finding an infant are pretty slim. For the most part I'm okay with that because the adoption plan was never about getting an infant, it was about growing our family and something we always planned to do. That doesn't change my soul deep longing for another infant, though. I wish I could let that go; my life would be so much easier.

6 am January 1st, 2010

I can't believe it's been a year.

Happy Birthday, my sweet little Wren. I wish you were here.

phistelkciuy

I usually like to sum up how I feel or what my entry is about in a short title. This one represents my brain right now when I try to put how I feel into words.

For the last few days the emotion floating to the top most often is anger. Maybe anger is too light a word. Rage. Blinding, seething, burning rage. I remember in the early days there was this tremendous weight, this pressure to do something violent. It sat on my chest, heavy and hot, like heartburn but stronger. I wanted everyone else to hurt like I did. I wanted everyone to FEEL what I was feeling. These last few days that feeling has been creeping back. Not as strong as before, but definitely there.

I've been trying hard to keep so busy that I don't have time to think. It's been working a little too well. Everyone thinks I'm fine and they don't understand why I am being bitchy when I start to get overwhelmed. My husband actually asked me why I was in such a bad mood after I snapped at him the day before Christmas. I burst into tears and screamed at him that I had just lost my last chance for a baby in the year since Aiden died and that I didn't have my goddamn baby. I couldn't believe he couldn't figure that one out. I still can't. Why the hell would I be in a good mood right now?

My mother and sister haven't said anything but seem to be aware that I have good reason to be depressed right now. My idiot father gave me a very cheery "Merry Christmas!" over the phone the other day. I get that people don't associate the holidays with my baby dying. For the most part I don't mind. But my family should remember. I really don't think that's too much to ask.

We're packing up for our trip to the mountains. It will be just us and the manager. No one else wants to brave the cold. I'm grateful, since the idea was to be far away from any celebrating. The only bright spot is that my Aiden must have heard me and sent me some snow. The town we are going to had 6 inches on the ground and more on the way. I'm not sure I really believe anything answered my prayer, but its comforting to think it was him.

One of the things we packed was our son. I wasn't expecting this to hurt so badly. We should be bundling up a seven month old. Hell, if he was alive we wouldn't even be going on this trip. I had to pack my dead son's ashes instead.

Oh, God. I just want to hold him. I want to watch him sleeping and count his precious toes. I want to listen to his little baby grunts and play with his silky, downy baby hair. I want this pain to stop. I want to stop crying. I want to forget that I've been trying for children for seven years and only have one and a jar of ashes to show for it. (I hope everyone knows I am deeply grateful for my daughter - but it still hurts). Most of all, I want to stop hoping. It just hurts too much. I KNOW what I am missing and what it would take to get there. I just can't change the way things work. Sometimes it feels like it is killing me.

What good am I if I can't get through a day without pain pills? What good am I if I can't get my body to do what it was built to do? What good am I if I can't pull it together enough to love my husband? Or play with my daughter? Or grieve?

I have been drinking a lot (for me) the last few days. I can't say it's helping really, but it is easier to get through the nights. I hope this trip will alleviate some of this depression and not make it worse. The anger may be around for awhile. My sweet baby is gone and sprinkling his ashes on the snow is a really poor substitute.

I'm sorry about the stream of consciousness. I just really needed to get some of this out. Keeping so busy has meant neglecting my writing, the only therapy I have right now. It helps to write, even if it does sound like I'm about to jump off a bridge (I'm not).

I hope these days are easier on you, dear readers. May you find peace and comfort in the days ahead.

well, that's that

I'm pretty sure it is now 11 dpo. My temp dropped to 98.2, my cover line was 98.6. The bleeding is heavier. Looks like I get to spend Christmas drunk after all.

We're doing our traditional solstice celebration tonight, but my heart is not in it. I hope my little girl doesn't notice.

I expected this, but I'm still sad - and so, so angry.

Now I get to go to work and listen to everyone's holiday plans and try not to burst into tears.

Up in the air

I still don't know one way or the other.

I started taking progesterone again, about 3 days earlier than I was supposed to, hoping it would stop the spotting. It seemed to work for a couple of days and then I started spotting again yesterday. I took a test this morning - very negative. But since my temps are really unreliable I'm not sure if this is 8dpo or 10. Either way it may be way too early.

Today was much, much easier than I thought it would be. I spent most of it in a bad mood but that had more to do with thoughtless friends and cranky children that what day it was.

I can't believe it's been a year since we were told our son would die. Some days it feels like ten, some days it feels a couple of months.