Waiting

I am okay.  I always am.  I’m the strong one.  The one who feels no pain.  The one who grieves every morning for the baby that isn’t there.  I am the one so exhausted from constantly holding together a hopeful heart.  The one who grows weary from the constant struggle that defines our lives.  I am the one who goes without attention and doting.  The one who hides tears in bathrooms.  I am infertile. Invisible, it feels like, even to God.  I am a hater of those who give less than their best to the children they have.  I am unable to rise above and feel joy for others who can do what I cannot.

Things I never said…

I never said this blog was anything but my uncensored feelings
I never said this private matter could be so public
I never said please feel free to judge me
I never said that my feelings would be easy to swallow
I never said that my feelings would be pretty
I never said I could go through this and be nice all the time
I never said what I’ve really been through and how bad it hurts
I never said I could do this without venting
I never said things with the intent to hurt you
I never said I could do this by myself…and–
I never said that the things you say hurt my feelings.

~K

The adoption wait, angry at the world…still

I’m still reeling from the birth of my niece. I find myself worrying about what the birth of my children will be like. Hoping there will be excitement fearing there will only be sadness. I hope I get to see them come out…i know it’s not likely but I can’t imagine not watching my children take their first breath.

Our IAC counselor emailed us today…she’s just now forwarding our file, the letter for which I arrived a week ago. She’s been out sick, moved, had deaths in the family, sick kids etc etc etc…shit happens but I honestly feel like enough shit has happened to us.

I’ve been very very sick, had deaths and births…yet I’m stilling making good time. All this stalling on the side of an agency to whom I’m paying $9,000. I just want them to hurry so we can find the mother of our children. It’s frustrating. They owe us big and when it’s crunch time I expect them to go above and beyond.

Honest-angry-infertile-me

February 1, 2006: 9:06 AM Olivia is born. My mom cried, my Dad, beaming rushed to call his family and tell them that he is a grandpa. I am heartbroken. Unable to even comprehend my grief. The first grandbaby should have been mine, three years ago, not an angel in heaven but one here on earth. I’m angry that I should have to endure the pain of not only that loss but the loss of my ability to give birth. I’m angry that I’ll never need an epidural, or look down at a baby and I think “We made this life”.

I’m hurt because no one remembers the baby I loved and wanted. No one will celebrate with us at our children’s births. No rushed phone calls, no family gathering at the hospital. The grandmas won’t come out to visit and the aunts and uncles won’t care to get the call. I worry that our family won’t love our baby as much, that they won’t be special…that I don’t get to be special. No 9 months of pampering and tlc here. I suffer silently and no one cares to ask how hard this is for me. I don’t get a day, not an ounce of attention. All I have is an empty nursery and an empty uterus. I won’t get a baby shower where I’m the center of attention, no one will care about our baby.

I’m scared that I will fall in love and she will too and I’ll end up broken hearted again. Worse yet that I won’t fall in love at all and I’ll never know how it feels to be a mom. I shouldn’t have to wait, or be patient, or be kind. I’m not allowed to be upset or jealous or hormonal. I am mourning a loss I thought I’d moved past…yet there I sat at the bottom of the tub, sobbing for an hour with shower water running. There are no prescriptions for the pain I’m in. So I watch the celebration, inside dying every day I wait a little more for someone who should have arrived a long time ago.

A Baby Shower…a waiting moms perspective

Baby showers, dreaded by every infertile woman in the world. For you fertile folks, it’s like being stabbed with needles all day long…painful. To the outside world I was all smiles, a happy hostess for my sister’s shower, but on the inside I was ready to do a swan dive off the back deck. The shower was beautiful (I have a gift for party planning…shh don’t tell!) and everyone, including my sister had a great time. I’m glad she was happy with it and I am excited to meet my little neice soon.

I saw my sisters nursery today and it was awful, not the nursery, but the feeling that shot through me. I could hardly swallow the tears. I’m not mad just jealous.

My parents pitched in and they all made this beautiful nursery. I feel alone and oh so heartbroken. You see I’m a great prentder and it’s hard for my family to understand when everyone thinks I’m “fine”. Infertility is a battle everyday, sometimes easily won, others are like today. I am mourning the loss of a pregnancy, a shower and all the fun that comes with expecting a baby. Today wasn’t about me, I was all smiles, but I was dying inside.