Getting it off my chest

When I was on bed rest last week, I spent a lot of time reading blogs. Mainly from Stirrup Queens 2007 Creme de la Creme's list. Needless to say, it brought up a lot of stuff. I'd read the post and then go to their most recent post. Some are even pregnant right this very moment. And one woman had just lost her twins. That was just too much. I cried. I knew the longing, the journey of a thousand needles. I understood the long ass haul it took to get there. Yeah, I know, life's unfair. I can't believe she actually posted so quickly. But that's the world of bloggers eh? Nothing but raw emotion. No judgment (mostly) from like-minded women. We blog because we don't talk about this at the water cooler. We don't talk about it with our friends or family or in society. (well, maybe a little but then it's behind the veneer of "I'm fine, though.") We hide the reason why we have to leave work, or why we don't go to that baby shower or quit calling our pregnant friends or pass on socializing during the 2 week wait. People constantly ask us when we're going to have kids right after they say hello: What are you waiting for, what are you waiting for, what are you waiting for? I wish I had cards that said, "If I could've, I would've by now."

Once your innocence has been trashed, you get a little bitter. And once you get past bitter, you're just different than you used to be. And I expect that even if you had a child or adopted a child, you never truly get over the experience of being infertile.

I spend hours doing what? Reading infertility blogs? Yep. Sssh, don't tell anyone. I wouldn't even join the local infertility support group while I was in the thick of things because I didn't want to spend time feeling obligated to encourage other people and hide my own pain. And what if one of my newfound friends, gasp, ended up pregnant? What happens then? Do they cease to exist? I expect it would be like graduating to a prestigious university and you'd never want to hang out with your old stoner high school friends again, would you?
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When I first inquired about uterine artery embolization, the radiologist asked me if I had considered a hysterectomy. No way. Was I still trying to get pregnant? Mmm, no. I got the impression he was trying to tell me that having a UAE would not help me get pregnant. Yeah, I got the picture. A woman my age shouldn't be trying to get pregnant. Cause if a miracle occurred, I can just imagine how completely worried and anxious I'd be the entire time. And knowing what I know now, I'd just be waiting for the worst to happen. To be punished by the universe for having the gall to be pregnant against all odds. Didn't the fact that all that ART, positive thinking, visualization, relaxing, acupuncture, herbs, prayer prove to me that it just wasn't meant to be? Yep, I get it. My mission, in terms of children, lies in another direction. I did my crying, my grieving, we both did. I can now hold and smell babies, not turn my head at the sight of pregnant women, buy shower gifts and cheer on friends on their own conception journeys. I was going to have a family.

Which is why I could begin adoption. This was a joint decision. And I started to imagine what it would be like to be a parent, a mother to an infant to a woman who was willing to relinquish that privilege to me. I was willing to jump through the hoops, be interviewed about how much sex I don't get and how much wine I drink. And, for better or worse, the process highlighted what was lacking in my marriage. A smaller waistline. Yes, I know, it's deeper than that. I'm grateful in a way. However, the way in which it was presented to me was so full of pain, so much anger, and resentment that it stole the frisson of excitement and happiness I was starting to feel at anticipating a child in my life.

The question I've been asked is am I truly ready to go forth in the adoption process with my present feelings of insecurity within my marriage? I've asked my dh for emotional reassurances and I've been getting them. Still, I'm not 100% sure in my heart. I told him about the inquiries for our adoption profile and he says go ahead with it. I was hoping myself things would move a little slower, but as a bi-racial couple, apparently we go to the head of the list for bi-racial babies.

The question I asked myself months ago was could I be who I wanted to be and still be married? At least to this person. I'm willing to bet he still wonders what the answer is. I've had my cranky moments. I still believe that we can have the marriage that we both want. But it takes changes on both sides. We both need to communicate better with one another. I need to take a better grip on my financial contribution and the size of my ass. (Which thank you very much is down to its' 2002 size. I feel a shopping spree coming on.) I'm feeling healthier and the more I work out, the stronger I feel. He needs to decide if smoking pot and playing video games is an valuable use of his spare time. Well, that's not fair. He thinks it is a valuable use of his time. It's really how I feel about it. Since our last appointment with the counsellor, I made one request that he remain available to me i.e. not stoned. So he took that as not getting stoned while I was around. Which turned into smoking as much pot as he could aside from the occasional "date" night out with me. And yes, I've let him know how I feel. Just the other day, he told me he and his buddy are going on the wagon and they're going to start working out. Really. He actually had the nerve to bristle at my sarcastic response. What a nerve, eh? Maybe I should have put our marriage on the line. It's a great motivator, let me tell you.