Thursday, March 25, 2010

How Much Longer?

How much longer until the nightmares stop?
How much longer until I have to hide the grief because the people around me get sick of hearing about it?
How much longer until I am not afraid to touch or even look at a baby for fear of making a huge scene?
How much longer until I can honestly say that I am not bitter towards Catholicism?
How much longer until I pray for God's will to be done in e-mom's life and really mean it, not just because I know that is what I am supposed to do and would rather see her hurting as much as I am?
How much longer until my head can convince my heart that it is SO not worth all this pain, fear and anxiety?
How much longer until Anna forgets how excited she was about having a baby sister?
How much longer until my heart stops skipping a beat every single time I sit down at my computer, hoping for an e-mail that will change everything for the better and blot out the e-mail that caused so much grief in my life?
How much longer until my mind accepts that my family is complete and there will be no more little girls for me to parent?
How much longer until I can fall asleep without flipping my pillow over to find a dry spot I haven't cried on?
How much longer until the sight of baby girl clothes don't make my stomach churn?
How much longer until I stop envisioning how every single thing I do would be different if this hadn't happened?
How much longer until I don't feel judged and rejected?
How much longer until I am truly happy again? Because that is what I want.
How much longer?

WARNING: Incredibly Snarky Post (ISP) Alert


So these are the oh so INCREDIBLY ethical people who decided that *I* am not worthy to parent a child because I am not one of them.

Ya know, today I think I am ok with that. With not being one of them, I mean.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

I'm Not Sorry

A few people have asked me whether or not I am sorry we ever started down this adoption path.

I can honestly say no, I am not sorry.

Don't get me wrong. I am not happy that I feel the way I do. My arms ache for a baby I never had the chance to hold. It is a dreadful feeling and one that I would not wish on anyone.

We could have said no. We could have decided not to take the risk in order to spare ourselves any potential pain. But...the thing is, if we never took the risk, we would have spent a lifetime wondering what might have been.

Yes, we ended up in pain. No, we are not happy about being in pain. But this pain will fade with time, I assume. There is a degree of closure to this pain.

Had we never taken this risk, we would have spent our lives questioning that choice. There would have been no closure; only a lifetime of "what if?"

Do I wish she had never contacted us? Sometimes. But not really. We are starting, ever so slowly, to move forward and to identify positive pieces of this whole bizarre puzzle. I believe that any circumstance is what you make it. We can choose to wallow or we can choose to take the crappy things that happen and use them for some purpose; to turn them into something positive. Trust me, I have done my fair share of wallowing and will likely continue to do so off and on for quite a while, but I know that in the end I will be ok and I will have a greater appreciation of many things as a result of these events. I still have days when I feel angry, when I question everything I said and did, when I want to pick up the phone and beg her not to do this. I am human, after all. But I know that with time I will heal and move forward.

So no, I am not sorry. I took a big risk that could have ended in a miracle that I never dreamed possible. I had to. And if the situation came up again, I sincerely doubt that I would hold myself back from taking the risk again; despite the fear that will no doubt try to hold me back. I have taken many risks that have ended in incredible circumstances. If I had allowed fear to hold me back, I would have missed out on so much.

I'm not sorry.

"It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

-Lord Alferd Tennyson

Monday, March 1, 2010

March 1st

It has been March 1st for 1 hour and 15 minutes.

Oh joy.

I am not usually one to assign deep meaning to relatively arbitrary dates that will eventually come and go regardless of anything I do, but I cannot help hoping that a new month will bring something better for the S family than the month that just ended.

See ya February. I am not sure what in God's name we did to tick you off, but you sure had your revenge, didn't you?

February 2010 Review

Feb 1st: Jesse's grandmother passes away
Feb 14th: Failed domestic adoption of the baby girl we have dreamed of and prayed for after we are deemed an unfit family due to the fact that we are not Catholic.(This event spawned the "Life is Wonderful?" post that tormented so many people with its vague nature. Sorry about that.)
Feb 18th: Jesse's employer announces that the company is closing.
Feb 27th: Jesse's grandfather is diagnosed with late stage bone cancer; there are no treatment options other than pain relief as he is not healthy enough to sustain cancer treatment

February 2010 has earned a permanent seat right next to February 2006. I used to think Feb 2006 would always be the worst month of my entire life; the month I was told my husband had less than 5 years to live without a heart-lung transplant. I didn't think it could get much more crappy than that. Clearly I was mistaken. Or maybe not. I think we have managed to tie that degree of crappy, but fortunately we have not yet surpassed it.

There's always a silver lining, eh?

It feels pretty stupid to hope that because letters and numbers on a piece of paper have changed, our life circumstances will improve, but I suppose the human mind is programmed to look for hope anywhere it can. The end of a month of pure hell is as good a time as any to hope for improvements, don't you think?

I really have no real purpose in writing this, other than the fact that I wasn't sleeping and thought that maybe writing it out would serve to purge some of the pain and allow my mind to stop spinning.

I am now investigating grief counselors because we simply don't know how to process this much pain. Our collective solution has been to shut down and retreat from the pain as much as possible. In doing so, we seem to be shutting out all emotions, both the good and the bad. On many levels I recognize the folly in doing so, but on other levels I simply don't care. I don't WANT to feel this much pain. Ignoring it is easier than facing it. I'm not convinced that I am doing myself any favors by refusing to allow the grief its due process, but denial is all I have right now so I am going to go with it. Frankly, I'm not even sure I'm interested in grief counseling as I am sure that person would have one goal in mind; making me acknowledge and deal with the pain. Denial is comfortable right now.

Despite the grief I won't allow myself to feel, the anxiety that I can't shut out and the depression that has replaced both good and bad emotions, I have reached a few conclusions that I think are important to put in writing.

1. God does exist and He does care. He does not purposely toy with me by putting pain in my life, that is not His nature. Rather, He gives me the strength to function and will work everything out for good in my life if I choose to let Him.

2. These events will not destroy my marriage. Many couples have divorced when faced with far less than we have already faced in 12 years of marriage. We will not be defeated by pain and fear.

3. I will cherish every second of the time I have with my children. I will love them and appreciate them for every characteristic they have, no matter how seemingly obnoxious it might be.

4. I will acknowledge that, despite February 2010 and all the hell it has unleashed on our family, we are still richly blessed and have much to be thankful for.

5. I will not allow myself or anyone else to disregard my pain by pointing out that the pain of someone else is worse. If I am standing next to a person in a full body cast with only my one broken arm, my arm still hurts.

So long February 2010. I'm sure we will revisit you many, many times as the years go by and I can't really tell you what those visits might look like. It's not really important right now anyway. At the moment all I need is some closure and this felt like the best way to find it. Peace.