Bitterness

Lately, I've found that my bitterness is back. Almost every Facebook post about a pregnancy/baby/child causes me to feel very bitter. Really, it's not just facebook. JM's stupid celeb crap on the side is ticking me off too. I really don't care about who's due this month or having a baby or whatever...and I certainly have no desire to see the big pregnant belly that is on the side bar.

Of course, then there's the fact that while I know the pain would never completely disappear, I sure didn't expect to feel this bitter almost five years later! I hate this. Why do the emotions insist on resurfacing anytime I finally start to think "I'm doing pretty well"

(Yes, this is the same as my RPL post, but I would like to think that a few others read the blog that aren't from RPL.)

A New Kind of Dream

Over the years, I've had many dreams about our journey, none of them happy. Most of these dreams have involved another miscarriage. Usually, in the rare dream in which we successfully carry to term, the babe is diagnosed with histio shortly after birth. The dream I had a few nights ago was different.

I dreamed that I was very pregnant only I wasn't showing. In my dream, my water broke but I wasn't really contracting. In the dream, the hospital was very okay with me having a natural birth. Despite my water breaking, they sent me home to wait.

At one point, while waiting to go into active labor, we were at a store. I was sitting down to rub my belly during a mild contraction. A teacher from one of my schools saw this and asked me if I was pregnant. Beaming, I told her "yes." She then asked me how far along I was. Only, because I wasn't showing, she wouldn't believe me when I told her I was already full term, that my water had broken, and that I was contracting.

Also, in the dream I was telling both Chris and the doctors to just take the baby already. I was terrified at the thought of an infection now that the baby didn't have any amniotic fluid to protect it. I know that this bit stems from losing my brother this way. I kept saying "This baby will not die like Donald Nicholas did!" I think this is the only situation in which I would opt for (and possibly demand) a c-section). Those who know me, know that I am (and always have been) very pro-natural birth.

Anyway, I can't quite figure out what was up with me being pregnant and not showing. Maybe it has something to do with our plans to adopt. All I know is I was thrilled to have a dream where the baby was both alive and healthy. Perhaps, this is a sign that my subconscious is finally starting to heal.

My babies

Update (and possible TMI alert)

Everyone has been asking for adoption updates. I often don't know what to say. I feel like I'm letting everyone else down by telling them there isn't much to update but there just isn't anything to share. We have a fundraiser coming up soon. I'll share the link then. Honestly, adoption is super-expensive. Until we can afford to have the homestudy done, there won't really be anything to share. After we pass a hime study, we will apply for grants. When i know we have those, then (and only then) will we step up our search. THAT'S when we may have regular updates on the project. But please know that this is not a fast or easy process. Please don't expect us to have a baby in a years time. It's not likely. :( It's unfair, yes, but it's what we're stuck dealing with.

That being said, Chris has been bitten by the baby bug again. He wants to try while we wait...only without the RE. I have mixed feelings. Part of me feels like it would be dishonest to be fundraising for adoption and trying to conceive at the same time. But another part of me feels that if you're helping by donating then you really want to see us fulfill our dreams of becoming parents, no matter how it happens. (Any donors want to share your feelings on the topic? Please be honest.)

And then there's the stress. I've really been enjoying not worrying about where I am in my cycle. I like not forcing myself to have sex just because of the cycle day I happen to be on. Sex is starting to be fun again. We're having sex because we want to, not because we have to. I don't have a doctor telling me have sex this night and this night but not this one. It's no longer a chore to be intimate. I'm just not sure I want to give up this progress for temping, charting, cervix checking, preseed, and pills. Not to mentioned the Soy induced side effects. :(

A friend posted these two poems on FaceBook. Author unknown on both.

Sorry I didn't get to stay.
To laugh and run and play.
To be there by your side.
I'm sorry that I had to die.

God sent me down to be with you,
to make your loving heart anew.
To help you look up and see
Both God and little me.

Mommy, I wish I could stay.
Just like I heard you pray.
But, all the angels did cry
when they told little me goodbye.

God didn't take me cause He's mad.
He didn't send me to make you sad.
But to give us both a chance to be
a love so precious .. don't you see?

Up here no trouble do I see
and the pretty angels sing to me.
The streets of gold is where I play
you'll come here too, mommy, someday.

Until the day you join me here,
I'll love you mommy, dear.
Each breeze you feel and see,
brings love and a kiss from me.

The Cord
We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.

It's not like the cord
That connects us 'til birth
This cord can't been seen
By any on Earth.

This cord does it's work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.

I know that it's there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.

The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed
It can't be denied.

It's stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.

And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.

It pulls at my heart
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.

I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take it away!

Oh, how I miss my babies. We're coming up on Jillian's first "birthday" next week. Not sure what kind of cake Chris will make for her. Just over a week after hers is Dominic's "birthday." He'd be four. :( I hate when my dates are so close together. After Dominic's "birthday" we'll have just one more this year in November.

Broken Heart; Empty Arms

It's back-to-school time. That means sales and post galore of the first day of school. It seems that everywhere I turn there is a preschooler going to school for the first time. It hurts. Dominic should be starting homeschool preschool this year. (Well, technically if he wanted to we could have started last year but this year we'd be doing it no matter what).

I want to homeschool so bad! It's probably the thing I look forward to most...and yet I'm forced to wait another several years before I can do so. :( I want to be at a park right now or at the table working. I want to be trying to get Gwen, Aiden, and Jill to let Dominic work. (Even if that means they all have to nap!)

I want to be planning lessons and brainstorming. I want to know his learning style and be looking at Kindergarten curricula. I want to know if Gwen would decide she wants to do it with her big brother and doesn't want to wait a year.

I hate having to imagine what it would be like. I should KNOW. =(

Failed Adoption

I contacted a woman regarding adoption a couple of weeks ago and at first it seemed perfect. There were some red flags from the beginning but given her situation we decided to take the wait and see approach. However, as time went on we became more and more uncomfortable with the situation. In fact, in her last email to me she admitted that the paternal grandmother may try (and succeed) to convince the father not to sign TPR. That combined with many other issues was just too much.

We've been hurt so many times. I can't keep this going and have it fall through in Dec/Jan. (She is due Jan 13th, but with it being twins, chances are they'd come before that.)

I had a breakdown today. The emotions completely blindsided me. It's like I got pregnant four times only to be told "Psyche! Just kidding. You can't have them." Then go on to adopt twins only to be laughed at again. Oh, and let's not forget the time we tried to adopt my nephew only to have that fall through...and the teen that was considering adoption only to miscarry. I feel like I'm some cosmic joke...like I'm just a toy for God and the angels or something.