The Infertile Gourmet

CATCHING MY BREATH

As always my readers swoop in when I most need it.  Thank you.  Thank you.  I appreciate you guys showing up in this ghostown with nothing to greet you but a shriveled old infertile woman whining about her town being gone.  Broken record much?  I mean how much can someone complain about the same thing over and over and over and....  You get the point.  I am typically a positive woman with vivacious energy but these here years have got me down.  If I were the drinking kind you would have found my new address was the saloon without a swinging door.  But I am not.  I am just the blogging kind not that you all would have known that due to my lack of existence and tumbleweed posts.

You know it was halfway uncomfortable to write what I wrote because most of the time things are so good here.  Having a child and being infertile is so much better than not having a child and being infertile.  I think the problem that came up last weekend and at other times is that so much happened in the past few years.  Infertility, a serious illness that kept me from Scarlett, my dog Curry dieing who was my stand in for a child, and now money issues.  It was once thing after another and no time to process each "bad thing".  So all of the emotions had to get swept under the rug just to get through the next day because there was no time catch my breath.  I was in a rush against time.  A rush to get the family I wanted so badly and then once in the rush the need to keep the balls flying through the air up and up without falling.  Whew!

So now I am thawing out.  I do not want to miss one moment of my child's life.  So sometimes I push those feelings of grief back under the rug until like last weekend I trip over that rug that should be flat but is now a mountain of unprocessed grief.  But damn, what is a girl to do...do you know how hard it is to do housekeeping with a toddler.  You should see my kitchen floor which does not even have a rug on it.  Filthy.  Much less cleaning underneath"those" rugs.

Right now (and I mean since the time I sat down to write this and hopefully the next 10 minutes) I am close to content and not feeling neurotic at all.  Yay!  (ok do not ask me how I was two hours ago :) 

I guess the question that still lies around waiting to remind me that this hamster wheel that I have been on will need to be dusted off again for the next round of acquire-the-child game.  First I need to get my ducks in a row, catch my breath, and make a move.

What will I do next you may ask?  What is behind door number one?  Why it is a cycle or two of monitored injectables.  What is behind door number two?  CCRM. Colorado.  But with this option my time is a ticking because I want to do the shared risk program and I have to be younger than 35 to do it.  I have three and a half years.  Tick tock.  But first, I need to get my finances in order.  Sell another building.  Then, hopefully, I will be able to afford more treatment.

oh yeah and vote too!  (token insertion of obligatory political blog speak)  Go Obama!

For now my heart cannot take another adoption.  I would rather deal with one liner tests than deal with leaving a beloved child.  Nope.  Sorry can't do it right now. 

Ok next post.,....pics  I swear.

Where do I begin?  Why do not write anymore?  Because my life is almost perfect yet I am still so damned depressed.  This is probably the worst moment to come here and talk because who is still listening?  I mean I have been here four times in a year or something like that? 

At this moment I just cannot catch my breath I need to do something with it.  So I am sorry if you are reading now and instead of getting a good update you get this sad whiny post.  It is almost like the friend who only calls when she needs something.  So please do not feel obligated to leave a message...I know I have not put the time in to deserve support.

Over the last two years being a mom has been so good, so rewarding, so tiring, and dare I say almost perfect!  That is great I know.  My kid is smart, healthy, and so well behaved without having to nag at her to be so.  We get along brilliantly.  How on earth did I get so lucky?  Her daddy is just the best Daddy and husband....perfect!  Pollyanna here...right?  Uber positive Alex on the kid front.  But it is true and I am not a dillusional mom but a happy mom.

So this is why I feel so crappy about complaining about my life.  The something-that-is-missing creeps in and I have not energy.  The missing parts are money.  We are severely in debt because of infertility and the adoption to the point that I honestly have to look at moving from my home.  This financial burden is so damn heavy and I feel like I am going under.  We have buildings to sell with equity but I am so damn tired I just do not know what to do. 

Infertility rears her ugly head more than I like to admit and damn I am such a fucking broken record already...I know!  Just just the fuck-up.  But my heart cannot silence over the pain that wells up in me from time to time.  It is easier day to day because I have my perfect child.  But the rare occasion it rears up to remind me of my barren pathetic womb it is so deep maybe even deeper.  I am going on seven years of never getting pregnant, a drained bank account because of this, and I do not even have the right to start thinking about the next child because uummmmm with what money would I get another child. 

So many years have gone by and barely blink when I get my period but due to my odd hormonal flux my body sometimes acts pregnant...the tiniest bit of hope twitters in and I find myself rejecting the thought adn rolling my eyes at the naivete of hope.  I hold off on testing with my dusty dollar store pregnancy tests until weeks have gone by and the hope has grown only I was an intelligent person to have squashed that hope.  How many times can we come crashing down from hope that we will not rise again.  What is it that is so persistent about that bitch called Hope?

I want to go back to being a midwife but it is such slap in the face and I feel myself walling off so many feelings when I am around the mothers.  What do I do with these two things...passion and heartbreak that are so clashing in opposition?  How do I get to where I want to be?  Why does life feel so heavy sometimes  yet so good.  Bittersweet chocolate. 

(again I want to reiterate just in case you are reading between the lines and decide to troll me later...my (adopted) kid fills all gaps for me regarding mothering and being "MY" child.  This sentiment has nothing to do with my daughter for all that she is.  A biological or adopted child cannot and SHOULD not fill my crevices of despair and frustration with what life has dished out to me.  That is not her burden and I will never ever make that her burden or any of my children no matter how they come to me.  I have been trolled one too many times over the past year so thought that I would just cut  you off at the pass now.  Funny since I have not even been writing!)

Every hard spot in my life has made me stronger, better, smarter, wiser, and made me ME.  But infertility...not so much.  It has kicked my ass and I am not for better.  I am more jaded, fat, depressed, bitchy, hardened,  and bitter.  I feel like I have missed a window into my life.  I cannot crawl my fat ass back up into that window to live normally.  It traipses (infertility) into all aspects of my life even when I beat it back with a broom and reminders of all the wonderful that my life is. I never feel like I can relate normally to the mothers in my babygroup.  They all had their children and bonded during the baby period while I was off in Guatemala back and forth leaving my baby with a stranger..this still kills me and brings tears to my eyes how my heart was ripped out when I said goodbye to my Scarlett.  They got to breastfeed and know their babies every minute of their life but I have gaps in my memories because those memories were never mine to have.  My eyes never witnessed those precious moments of my babies life. 

I swear to GOD if you say to me that those first six months are just boring, unimportant, and not even cute but just filled with changingfeedingdiaperingnosleep I will come out of this computer first strangle you and then ask you to leave your newborn with a random  lady at some house on the next street over ....I get to pick the house   because this is as random as it was for me but it was a lady in another country I did not know.  Ok a bit violent here but I have gotten this answer from people that do not worry I missed nothing.....nothing but my babies life.

I feel a little post traumatic stress disorder over the whole adoption thing.  Leaving a child you fell in love with is the worst thing ....maybe worse than infertility.  I just do not know where to go with these feelings...they are the reality.  Nothing I can do about it.  Now, she is home safe and sound living a  normal little life with us.  I am so grateful.  Yet, I am so sad.

That is all I have for you now.  I need to stop crying and get on with my day.