Sorry for the lapse in posting. I have also been lacking in the commenting department, but hope to catch up over the next few days.
Over the last few days it has been ... I don't even know how to describe it. Culmination of several things has pushed my sadness of not having a child to the nth degree. Of course the side kick to that is my mind starts racing with scenarios of seeing a new RE, start actively pursuing adoption, should I start temping and charting again. All of this coming at me with the intensity of a locomotive going at top speed.
Then I am snapped back to reality with the sharp edge of this chronic pain and maybe I should just swallow the big girl pill and accept the title mother will never be associated with my name. But the side kick to that is it will also mean that Scott will never be a father and that is the most unacceptable option. UNACCEPTABLE GOD!
I have the best father, so does Scott. That alone should make for a great father's day. It surely takes the edge off, but this special day is my most difficult - it trumps mother's day. The church service was hard on Scott, seeing his brother with his children was hard, seeing other fathers wearing their father of the year smiles was hard. We didn't speak about it, first year we didn't cry together about it. I don't know if he is just used to it or trying to be strong for me - or if like me he sobbed alone in another room.
I was holding Italy yesterday. While holding her I would whisper in her ears about things we would do together when mommy goes back to work. How I would read to her, sing to her, teach her to crochet and knit. How I couldn't wait until she started talking and walking. I told her I have so much love in my heart for her and I will cherish every moment together.
Within seconds of them going home I fell onto my bed in a bundle of heart brokenness. All that I will do with Italy, I want to do with my child.
All of this longing and sadness and feelings of failure and grief could be changed into the most intense love and devotion with a breath of our child. The intensity of these feelings is so overwhelming. Could you imagine the power they would have if longing changed to fulfillment, sadness to unmeasurable joy, failure to success and the grief of unrealized dreams changing to ecstasy of motherhood?
People don't understand the pain of infertility. They gloss over it like it's similar to having a cold or a broken finger. Sure it is aggravating and painful for a while - but you get over it. You forget about it.
And as difficult as it is for them to understand it, it is sometimes equally difficult to explain it. Especially to women who can look at sperm and get pregnant.
It is like you have two men sitting at a table - let's say DAviD HOFfMANY and NOrbiT A-DAlaDe. David had breakfast and lunch, Norbit hasn't ate for days. David appreciates the meal, he eats and rubs his full tummy and walks away. He knows that when he wants to eat, he is pretty much guaranteed a good hot meal. Norbit has been wanting this meal for what seems like forever and nothing but a good hot meal will satisfy his hunger. He watched David eat and expects a similar plate of food brought out to him. It is just the normal expected thing to have a meal when you want it; especially when you have paid extra for the same meal here at Cafe Furtilitea. When David left, Norbit did eat his left over bread and eggs from his plate, but all it did was fuel his hunger. Norbit waits and waits, the Maitre RE comes to his table and tells him that everything will be just fine, he will see to it. He opens his jacket, trying to discreetly show him these pills and injections that will help Norbit quench his hunger. Norbit's stomach growls and his throat is dry from nothing to drink. He thinks to himself that he would be more than happy with a meal brought in from another restaurant. He would love and enjoy that meal as much if not more than one he even cooked himself. He watches as almost all the others in the Cafe get their meal and then head for home, happy and content. Norbit looks around and he feels all alone. The Maitre RE has failed, his waitress named Uterosa can't seem to get it together and Chef Ovarita can't get anything else out of the kitchen. They start to dim the lights signaling it is almost closing time. Norbit is close to giving up on a meal. For some they think Norbit is over dramatic, but they don't realize this is a meal for the heart and not the stomach. Norbit can live on bread and water, he can even get a little satisfaction of eating from someone else's plate on occasion. But his heart is empty, and that hunger never goes away and has only one specialty on the menu that will quench it. He knows it can be prepared in a variety of ways and preparation isn't what is most important.
I know that might sound silly. (no might to it huh?)
As always, I will get out of this place...I just have multiple reservations and even though the accommodations pretty much suck - I keep coming back again and again. I am amazed at how warming it is at times to enjoy the fruits off someone elses plate. It is when I have to give the fruit back that I come back to reality.
BLAH! :) And this too shall pass, He has a reason and a plan and a purpose...all of this can't have been experienced for nothing - He has a miracle on the horizon. I have to believe that or drown.