A Week of Tears

So many tears this week.  All for different reasons.  Here is my pity party list – I need to get it out of my system!

1. Tears of Joy Quickly Turn Into Grieving the Loss of Having Biological Children

I learned recently that the younger brother of a former student (and now family friend) has been diagnosed with a form of Leukemia.  It broke my heart to learn this and a community of support has been created for the little fella.  The boy needs a bone marrow transplant and last week they found a match!  Even more exciting is that the match is his older brother (my former student).  I was so relieved that I cried.  Then I cried some more.  Then I cried because I realized that through adoption I’ll very likely only have one child (if I’m lucky enough to even get one).  No sibling for support and definitely no genetic match.  I know this is such a stretch, but for some reason this is where my mind went.  I guess that’s just a symptom of living with infertility and pregnancy loss.  I never know what’s going to set me off.

2. The Birthday Party

On Saturday night the plan was to go out with a group of friends for a friend’s birthday drinks. Most of these friends are single gay men. It’s safe to say that a typical night out with these guys means freedom from the world of babies and family life.  I put on a cute dress, loaded on the mascara (something I don’t do when potential crying is on the schedule) and headed out with my hubbie to meet them.  We got to the restaurant and ordered the first round of drinks. A few sips in, my evening changed.  My friend and her husband came in with their 7 week old baby.  I think I broke some kind of world record for fastest downing of a dirty martini.  It took everything in my power not to cry or run away.  Instead I went pale and started to shake.  My friend was very kind and carful when she saw me. I’m lucky for that.  She suffered a significant loss a year ago and understands my pain.  She parked the baby at the other end of the table with her husband and talked to me about non baby stuff.  I thank her for that.  It was still hard though.  There was a lot of baby talk. “She has your hair”, “she has your eyes” (more grieving of my bio child – these comments sting). There was at the table breastfeeding (something else to let go of). There was “you look so amazing, I can’t believe you had a baby 7 weeks ago” (I’m still so bloated that I  look like I’m pregnant). It was a rough night and my only escape was to drink too much.  Thanks to all the drinks, Sunday was a rough day too!

3. Seriously????? It’s MY turn!!!! 

While nursing a hangover (something I haven’t experienced for YEARS), I got a message from my aunt.  My younger cousin is pregnant again.  All pregnancy announcements are painful right now (and maybe forever), but this one hurt even worse.  My cousin (who I used to be very close with) was pregnant with her first when I was pregnant the first time.  Our babies would have been a few months apart.  I still have a little onesie that she gave me in a box in the basement.  We were so excited to be having babies together.   I lost my baby the weekend of her shower.  Ouch.  Hearing that she is pregnant again only added to my “what if” list.  Would I be having my second baby now? Would we be starting the adoption process for our second?   What makes it worse (for her and me) is that she’s not even with her husband anymore. He’s returned , on her request after years of fighting to his country of origin and isn’t expected to return. This just goes back to the stork distribution problem. Why can’t I have a baby when I’m SO ready while other people can get pregnant when it’s unplanned and not the right time in their lives? I no the answer is “there’s no reason”.  It still stings though.  When I got the news I cried.  No, I sobbed.  I went up to my bed and sobbed for hours. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t be consoled.  This news coming the day after seeing another baby was too much for me.  I was mourning my first baby all over again. It all came right back up the front. All the pain, all of the losses, all of the disappointments.  I’m sure I cried because I needed to.  I’m so tired of crying. When will this hurt less?


Doin’ it for no reason

Although it feels very counter-intuitive, the hubby and I are presently “not trying”.

If we do try to have a baby, it will have to be through IVF.  If we get pregnant on our own, it is destined not to make it to term.

It is really hard “not to try” when what I want most in the world is to have a baby.  It doesn’t seem fair.  None of this is fair.

So hear we are, back to “doin’ it” for the good ol’ fashioned reason that we find each other attractive, we’re feeling frisky and married and in love and all that.

It’s been such a long time that we’ve been “doin’it” with the purpose of having a baby.  We’ve so been careful to do it at the right time (when the doctor says go) and hesitant to do it after for fear of shaking things up.

It’s been hard for me to get baby making out of my head when we’re in bed.  Never mind having to think about potentially using birth control.   Don’t get me wrong.  We enjoy ourselves when we’re getting down to business, but there’s always a quiet nagging in my head, reminding me about baby making, reminding me not to get pregnant if I don’t want to lose another baby, reminding me that this is how most people make a baby.

Even though I know we didn’t “try” this month, I’m still checking for symptoms.  All those symptoms that I used to hope meant I was pregnant now terrify me:

Spotting day 11

Ovulation? Messed up from all those months on meds?

Spotting day 15

Implantation? Did we make a mistake? Messed up from the meds?

Sore breasts day 19

Pregnant? Did we screw up? Am I going to have another MC? P.M.S.? Messed up from all those meds?

Will “business time” ever be the way it was?

And here we were

Very shortly after loss number three (I was still recovering from my D&C the day before), we jumped ahead to the adoption discussion.  It was time to make a move before we went through any more pain, before it becomes a decision that we make out of desperation, before a doctor tells me whether I will or will not ever be able to carry a pregnancy to term. We wanted this adoption to be for the right reasons.

We knew the process would be long and wanted to get moving on it.  It was clear to us now that this would be the way we would start our family.

Having “a light at the end of the tunnel” uplifted my spirits a great deal.  Part of what was so painful about the losses was wondering if anything would ever come out of it, if this pain would ever be worth it, now I felt would be.

“What do we do if it doesn’t work?”

Before “pulling the goalie” the first time, my husband and I had discussed adoption.  He was adopted (from Korea), my dad and aunt were adopted (locally in Toronto) and it was something we had both always had in mind when it came to growing a family.

We decided to put the idea of adoption on hold because of the great expense involved.  We figured, if we could make a baby for free, that’s probably the better way to start.  We can adopt a second child later on.

We also talked about what we would do if we weren’t able to conceive naturally.   The answer was adoption. We were both in favour of adoption over gambling with expensive fertility treatments.