I keep thinking of you. You are so far away. Maybe you are still in your mama’s belly and she is hoping you will find a soft spot to land when you emerge into the world. Maybe you are in the orphanage already and not sure what your future holds. Maybe you are dreaming of me and him as well, of a life called family. Maybe we shall meet you in this new year.
Today I thought of our pile of paperwork being translated and processed as we speak, and the butterflies flitted about in my tummy. All of this leading us to you, and you to us. Will you be so small to hold in our arms and rock, will you be just learning to walk, or will you perhaps be babbling gleefully like toddlers do, needing to learn English and oh-s0-ready to stir things up when we see you?
I don’t know anything. I watch these other blogs about how they got the call telling them to check their email for a photograph, the first picture of their soon-to-be little one, and I sigh in anticipation. I see their ‘gotcha’ videos and I cry tears of joy seeing families coming together. And I look at their photos and read their stories about the process of getting their little one used to life in America, and they are all unique.
Today I miss you. Is that possible to miss someone you’ve never seen, heard, nor met?
Well, it is what it is. The long waiting period has begun.
In the meantime? Waiting, waiting on Myself.
And then there’s the deadline of today for my own body. Saturday was my last day on the pill and my period needs to arrive by tonight so that I can start on the next IVF cycle injections. If not? I don’t know. I’ve heard sometimes it can take a bit longer to regulate your cycle after a round of IVF but for me I’ve not seen my period since August when I started round one. It’s been almost 3 months since our negative result and we already had to cancel the December cycle. Last night I broke down in front of my husband and we just held each other for the longest time as I shared all of my fears about what is happening and what has happened with my body. Will it come back? Am I in early menopause?
Am I even more broken than I already thought I was?
In 13 days I will be 42. It just can’t be that my belly is a void. Can it? A Texas woman on the news the other day was literally brought out of menopause to carry her infertile daughter’s embryo to term. If they helped her, someone who doesn’t even menstruate anymore, can’t they help me? It’s gotten me, sadly, back onto the forums, which have some saying that they just have to do a blood test. But will that push things back another cycle? Why the fuck is this happening?
The things that run through our minds during the infertility journey don’t always make sense to the outside world. I have been able to be fairly intellectual and objective during this time away from the shots, but today I sit here at my kitchen window, wondering if my uterus is going to be a participant or a roadblock.
I can’t read the blogs anymore where women do IVF and call themselves another irritating acronym: “PUPO” – Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. The embryo transfer is NOT the doctor “making you pregnant” – he/she is simply putting a fresh or frozen combination of 3 to 5 day old sperm/egg combo in your belly and it will decide if it wants to stick. Acronyms like this are dangerously optimistic. You don’t walk out of the clinic pregnant. You get a test a week or two or three later which says if you are. It has to implant, it has to grow, it has to sustain.
Just because we are adopting doesn’t reduce the overwhelming grief we are experiencing as a couple. Just because we are adopting doesn’t mean we don’t feel the agony. Just because we are adopting doesn’t mean I can’t look back at the 30 years since I started menstruating and think, What A Fucking Waste.
I can’t reach out anymore. I can’t see clearly today. All I can do is get through the day, do my work, and wait for my husband to return home and curl up in his arms. All I can do is watch the robins poking around in our backyard garden and hope for spring.