Seeking God Knows What

First of all, last night we found out the “oops” baby of our friends made his grand appearance yesterday morning.  I am very happy for them,  considering the complications at the beginning of her pregnancy but at the same time, I still get those infertility twinges of sadness when I see my friends and family having babies, talking about who they look like, the amazing miracle of pregnancy and birth.  Bleh.

Then I found out the house is out.  We got some weird random reasons as to why they didn’t want to rent to us.  First, she told me it was because they weren’t sure what they were going to do- it needed a new roof because it had leaked in a corner near the basement over the winter, so they weren’t sure they were going to rent it until that was done because they didn’t want to bother the renters with it happening .  Then, when T called her to say we didn’t mind as long as the roof was going to be fixed, she told him well, they didn’t want to rent to us because we had asked, while walking through the house, if we could change out the dishwasher and, maybe, put up a fence in the yard- both things we would pay for and do at no cost or time to them- and they didn’t feel that they wanted us doing those things.  They didn’t seem opposed to those things when we asked, and besides, that was all we were doing- ASKING if we could.  We would have been fine with them saying no right then and there.

Whatever.

I think it is because we were upfront and honest about having filed for bankruptcy.  Even though they wouldn’t have known because they didn’t ask for authorization to run our credit, we felt they should know.  We could have afforded the monthly rent payments without any issues and we were willing to provide them with whatever they needed to show this.  And if this was the case, I don’t know why she didn’t come right out and say that instead of making excuses.

Probably better that we don’t end up having to deal with them as landlords.  But I’m still sad because the house was perfect for what we wanted over the next couple of years until we can buy a house on our own.

Now maybe I can fall asleep!

Why am I angry to discover that I was randomized into a group that received double the abdominal radiation than the other group during my treatment?

I mean it was 25 freaking years ago.

It can’t be changed.

The infertility can’t be undone.

But, you see, I just found out if I had gotten into the other group, my fertility odds may have been much better.

Why do I torment myself by looking over my treatment records and then looking up research to see just what might have been different??

I just talked to my friend, the one with the surprise pregnancy, and she may end up having a miscarriage. There is a scratch on the amniotic sac that is growing as the baby grows instead of healing.  She already thought she miscarried earlier last week while they were on vacation.  Fortunately they were only a couple hours north of here and she could get into see a doctor in her OB’s office, where they did an ultrasound showing that the baby still has a heartbeat.  But the doctor said the only thing they can do is wait and take it easy.

We’ve been through a lot together as friends with many ups and downs. Oddly enough, we had a long (e-mail) discussion earlier this year and things have been really good between us this spring, despite how my emotions surrounding infertility have been affected by the recent birth of their son and then the news of this pregnancy. My heart is just breaking for them, that they might end up having a miscarriage.

So if you are the praying type, would you please say a prayer for her and her family?

My mind and emotions at war today.

My emotions are playing the “Pity Party at Erin’s house cause her friends are having another baby and she can’t.  Adoption isn’t an option at the moment since finances suck and we might have to file for bankruptcy.” card

My mind is trying to stop my emotions by repeating to herself, “There is a plan behind all this.  You haven’t a clue about what it is.  This has nothing to do with you as a person.”

Blech.

I’m in shock…

My friends that had the baby 3 months ago are, um, having another baby, quite by accident.  They just found out on Monday.  They weren’t quite as careful as they should have been but they figured they were safe since they had to use multiple cycles of Clomid for their first two (we knew this and were kidding them about getting pregnant.  Guess that’s a little foreshadowing, isn’t it?!?)

I can’t quite wrap my head around it.  I don’t quite know how I really feel about it all since I’ve had a hard time processing their previous pregnancies against my infertility.

Whew!

Irish twins, anyone?

I want another baby.

Not in couple of years.

I am ready to get up in the middle of the night.

I am ready to attempt to juggle two kids and life.

Now.

I hate infertility and having to go through the adoption process, praying, wishing, hoping for what is also one of worst grieving in the world for some other woman so I can be a mom again.

I hate having been such an idiot with our finances that we can’t adopt at the moment.

I hate it when everyone tries to convince me I’m “lucky” because I don’t have to go through pregnancy and birth.  Everyone being those who have no issues with getting pregnant like my sisters and my sister-in-law.

I hate the fact that the reason I struggled more with one couple in our group of friends’ pregnancies than with my sisters’ is because they had to use initial fertility treatments to get pregnant both times and I, underneath it all, actually wished they would not be able to get pregnant, so I would have someone close to me that understood.  Pathetic, isn’t that?  To wish the thing you wish you didn’t have on someone else, just so you could have someone to share the pain with.

And you know what?

It isn’t the biological connection I miss with Widget.  Even if she were biologically related, she would be her own person- not a Mini Me.  It is that every time I hug her, kiss her, watch her sleep, share a moment with her, I wish that I had been able to share life with her from the very beginning.

Plus, I will admit I was so self-absorbed in depression for much of her first two years of life, that I know I missed out on so much anyway.  Moments I can’t get back.

Even though I know another baby would not be reliving Widget’s babyhood, I am just living so much more in the present than I have in years.  The past is a part of me but it isn’t all of me.
Maybe all this is because physically I feel like crap- it is either allergies or a cold/flu deal (neither allergy stuff nor cold stuff have helped, particularly with the crackling going on in my right ear).

In any case, I have survived my 3 weeks and unless I’m unable to get out of bed tomorrow, I am going to see #5.

Okay, well, maybe not ordered but told by #5 during my appointment today to seriously think about taking myself out of the adoption-related internet world.

He also suggested backing away from visits with L and her family until Widget is older but I’m not so sure about that. Note: I still have not called her about this weekend.

In talking with #5 about the fact that I feel guilty for not having myself in order financially, emotionally and what not prior to adopting Widget and that moving into an apartment feels like this huge backstep in what we said we were in meeting her, out came the underlying issue: I am struggling with this idea in my head that I was wrong for wanting to adopt a baby. That this made adopting about me and my “baby itch” and not just about wanting to parent a child because I/we didn’t choose foster-adopt or adoption from an orphanage. And that I want to adopt an infant again.

All the reading I have done about loss for the first parents and the child, all the subtle coercion in adoption, the heated discussions where adoptive parents are called “baby snatchers”, the idea of returning custody when an adoption was unethical, even just the open unheated dialog that is going on about ethical adoption is feeding this idea.

Every time I read a post about a first parent’s grief, I’m consumed with this fear that L is hiding her grief from us and she regrets the adoption but doesn’t know how to tell us.

I can’t stop thinking about it. About how to change things. About how to know if an adoption is ethical. About what God would really want us to do in regards to adoption, particularly domestic infant adoption. About whether I’m just thinking about myself and not about what is right.

Anything that happens with Widget that is probably just age-related or temperament-related, I wonder if it has to do with adoption loss. If her tantrums have more to do with the loss of L than with whatever provoked them.

It is doing me in.

Our friends just called and they had their baby today. A boy. Obviously, they are very excited and happy. It is the husband’s dad’s birthday today, which is cool.

I just wish that these stupid little twinges of jealousy and sadness about my infertility wouldn’t butt in and mess up my happiness for them. I feel like smiling and crying at the same time.

Wishing it were me isn’t going to make my infertility reverse itself. All the desire in the world to be a mom through a pregnancy isn’t going to make it happen. As much faith as I have in God’s ability to create miracles, that is one miracle that won’t be happening. Ever.

Okay. Enough whining. Get over yourself, right? Your turn to be a mom again will come. Some day.

Jealous.

At this very moment, I’m feeling very jealous.

Our friends who are having a baby, managed to get an offer on their house in 6 weeks, also just got the house they wanted to buy.

I want to sell my house.

I want to adopt again sooner rather than later.

I don’t want to live in an apartment again.

I don’t want my parents to get a divorce or separate or any of that.

I don’t want to be struggling with depression any more.

I am tired of feeling like this.

I’m tired of being crippled with heartache over situations where I ought to be happy for the people I care about.

I’m tired of being caught up in this endless cycle of thinking my life is the way it is because of my inherent failures.