I'll Never Forget

It has been a strange place to be - post my whole secondary-infertility journey. At the end of this month it will be six months since our adoption file expired. So I've had six months to get my head around it all - the outcome I didn't want; how things ended up.

I know I've let go in some respects - in leaps and bounds compared to where I was once with all this. But in other ways it feels as though I've made no or little progress.

I had my Dad and two half siblings stay for four nights recently. My half-siblings are ten and eight years old- so close in age to my daughter who is over seven and a half now. They all got on really well. Well, my daughter got on well with the other kids - they fought amongst themselves - as siblings do.

I always take on a mothering role when my half-siblings stay. It is certainly a lot more work caring for three children - more dishes, more food to prepare and more managing to do. But in so many ways it was easy dealing with kids en masse. As a Mum Of One of a child with autism; I am often the entertainment hub. And that is hard - adults are never going to be quite as good company as another child. With my half-siblings here  my daughter had entertainment on tap - she played barbies and imaginative games with my half-sister and XBOX with my half-brother and had plenty of bouncing on the trampoline with them both. She had a lovely time.

When they left on Monday morning both my daughter and I felt extremely flat. In fact it has taken us almost all week to resume to the usual mother-daughter dynamic that exists all week as my husband works twelve hours shifts and we don't see him much during the week.

I know my daughter feels lonely as an only child. I hate that. I do my best to have her friends round, to organise playdates and do things, go places etc. But nothing can replace the company and love of a sibling. It is that simple.

Once again my pain and grief around failing to add to our family is up there.

I have been feeling completely lost lately. It seems I am at crossroads in my life with the next job/career. I feel so confused and frustrated - there is no clarity at this time as to where I should go next. I've applied for three jobs over the last month. No bites yet.

I'm not sure if I should be pursuing my creative dreams as nothing is really going on there. I've entered some short story competitions and have submitted some freelance article proposals - and I've had virtually no response. I feel completely deluded about my dreams and aspirations. And just a tad annoyed that God hasn't allowed these dreams to happen - yet (as the case may be) - after such a long time of waiting for another child. I desperately want to move on from that era and to find some success and happiness somewhere else - surely I deserve that!

I am leaning on my Higher Power but he is answering my prayers slowly - once again! After five and a half years of waiting to add to our family, I am peeved that the next thing  - the what-was-meant-to-happen-instead-of-motherhood hasn't happened yet! And I'm telling you this - when it happens, it better be bloody good after all this waiting!!

I still have a lot of healing to do. Some days I wonder if I'll ever be over it all. It stings so much to see siblings together at the moment. Facebook isn't an easy place to go to right now. I read a headline to do with a story about a woman who had survived a natural disaster. Her words were something like "You move forwards and upwards. But you never forget." That is certainly how I feel about secondary infertility.

A New Life

I know I am making progress as far as letting go of secondary infertility goes - that chapter in my life (or should I say novel!), that went on for over five long years.

The period of time when the end has been reached - a conclusion finally given (even if it wasn't the one you were hoping for), is a strange one. Life isn't simple. A new something doesn't just appear over night, or even weeks or months later.

At the same time, it isn't until the letting go happens that A New Life can be born.

I seem to be in the process of allowing this to happen.

It is now five months on since our journey finished. I've not worked for three months out of that five months. I actually resigned from my job as soon as our adoption file expired. It was as though I just needed to give myself the time and space I needed to put my whole SIF experience in perspective.

I believe I am getting there. Thinking and talking about my SIF journey will always be painful, I would think. But I can see, when I talk or think about it now, that I have and am still in the process of moving on.

I talked to someone else the other day who is going through secondary infertility. I was asked to call her by Fertility New Zealand, who I am connected to because I started up an infertility support group here.

She is early in her journey (though it probably doesn't feel like it to her). But sharing my story I hope helped her - even though I didn't get the fairy-tale ending. I was able to tell her that over time I had healed - and am still healing. That I was having morning tea with three other Mums next week who all have second children. These are scenarios I have avoided and not encouraged for years. It was actually me who initiated this morning tea.

There are still many ouch moments. Like seeing siblings with matching hair styles for school and Mums outside the classroom at the end of the day (while waiting to pick up their kids) talking about their children's relationships with one another. I heard of both a newborn's arrival this week and a pregnancy. Yet I didn't feel quite as stung as I have in the past. I am trying hard to let God in and to heal from it all.

It has been very timely to have the last three months off - as in not working. I basically have the whole of the school week off while my daughter is at school. It is the first time since she was born that I've had so much time to myself!

It is a big treat - a luxury really. But a necessity on a spiritual and emotional level as it is an opportunity to just be and to make peace with the way life panned out. I think for so long I dreaded being at home on my own while my daughter was at school as I couldn't accept there wasn't a second child at home to care for.

But I've been (mostly) gentle with myself over these last three months. I've used the time to read, write, join a local Tai Chi group, go to a writers group, try new recipes, declutter, go to a sports physiotherapist and practise exercises for my arm, to start getting fit again, to see friends for coffee, to enter short story and poetry competitions and to write my book - I've even applied for the odd job here and there. But I've tried not to clutter my week and so I've had time to just be, which I believe, has allowed me to heal - to find peace and contentment being at home on my own while my daughter is at school. Often she needs a rest from school and was sick for two weeks. It has been great to be here for her and to not have to juggle work with her needs.

It hasn't all been smooth sailing. There has been some pressure (mainly from myself), to figure out what I'm meant to be doing with my life if it's not motherhood for the second time. There are a few ways I could go next - I most certainly seem to be at crossroads. A year's study could give me a Masters Degree, a teaching qualification or a post-grad qualification in journalism or social work or I could do a writing course for a year - so many choices!

It has been like an identity crisis going through secondary infertility as I have been affected deeply in mind, body and soul. My self-esteem as a woman has dropped because of my failure to conceive. Forgiving myself is still a work in progress. I feel lost in life in some ways but just have to trust that now is a time of healing - a time to regroup, reevaluate and rest (as written in my journal this morning).

I just have to trust that the next thing will come along in God's time and that sorting myself out is perhaps the priority at this stage.  In the meantime I continue to write and will get published again in Gods' time with that. I plan to resurrect my art again today (!) as it's been a year and a half since I last painted. I have a table booked at a Plunket Baby Bonanza in November. I've put it out there in regards to freelance writing and graphic design work as well as teacher aiding so it will be interesting to see which way my Higher Power wants me to go next.

Today I am also going to order some hard copies of family photos. We hardly have any printed out (but thousands on the computer!). I want to create albums for us all of my daughter growing up/family life. I want to celebrate being a family of three.

I think I am doing pretty good, all in all. I only seem to be blogging about once a month at this stage. I guess life is becoming about more than my secondary infertility experience. There is light, love and hope in my life again. I just have to sometimes remind myself of that - I have to work hard to live in the present and to let go of my past.

A Sad Little Story

Today I told my daughter
A Sad Little Story
Because it was something
She needed to know

She has been asking for a while
If she could have a little sister
And my answers so far
Haven't satisfied her so

I said I was pregnant once
But it wasn't for long
It was before she was two
And things went wrong

There was no easy way
To make it sound any better
Than A Sad Little Story
That I wish didn't matter

Her eyes misted over
When she realised what I'd said
That she had had a sister once
But that she was now dead

She asked if the baby
Had been given a name
If it was a boy or a girl
And where it now laid

I said it was too early to tell
What the baby was going to be
I'd a feeling it was a girl
But that was my dream

She said for Christmas
She wanted a little sister
That if she wished hard enough
It could be a dream for her

She's too young to understand
That I can't do it again
It was my last pregnancy
And some things you just can't mend

I've broken her heart
With my terrible news
She is only seven and too young
To hear there are dreams we can lose

What Comes Next

Well it's been two a half months since our adoption file "expired" - or in other words, two and half months since our adding-to-our-family journey ended, as mutually agreed by my husband and myself.

The first few weeks after this milestone was reached were hard. A lot of "old" grief resurfaced and I felt pretty raw. Over time I've been able to accept my fate, once again (as this journey seems to be about acceptance in all it's guises) but this time at a much deeper level. I've been able to put my whole SIF/early menopause experience in perspective and to see it as one of life's lemons (one very big lemon!)

The thing is I've been dealt some other challenges - a daughter with autism and an arm that is still very much healing from being broken last November at the elbow. If anything, letting go of adding to our family has forced me to put the focus back on these two other big things in my life that I need to face. My main focus now is supporting my daughter (not that I wasn't before, but more of my energy is now available to support her) and to heal myself - I'm doing this through physiotherapy and slowly adding running and swimming to  my exercise programme.

But the big shift that has come about on an emotional level, which I perhaps didn't expect, is the reemergence of another dream and a stubborn determination to make it happen - to be a writer. It is a dream that has always been there - since childhood - but one that has got buried along the way in life with all sorts of distractions - study, men, travel, partying, socialising, sport, motherhood, demanding jobs, SIF...yet here I am in this new phase in my life that is evolving into something a lot less complicated. And life has to be simple for creativity to exist. It is so easy to drown out or forget creativity in a busy life or a life immersed in grief (which mine was, for way too long with SIF.)

I left my most recent demanding job just over two weeks ago. It was part-time but incredibly busy. Juggling that with a child with special needs and a husband who works twelve hour shifts was too much and I was feeling beyond stretched. It took me six months to actually "leave" my job. There were a few things I wanted to put in place before I left so I did that and then I resigned.

I have just spent the school holidays with my daughter and yesterday was the first day that I had to embrace my "new life" - the one where there isn't another child to worry about while she's at school and no job to suck all my energy away. I have even let go of the gym. Life as I knew it for a very long time has dramatically changed. I'm no longer in the inbetween - waiting and hoping for life to go as planned - no longer putting things on hold in the vain hopes a second child was coming our way.

So here I am. I feel as if I have "arrived" in a sense. It was devastating to let go of my second-child hopes. But I had to. My reward, it seems, is the opportunity to allow another dream the time and space to emerge. I have a feeling this is a dream that God may actually support. In fact, if it wasn't for the pain, loss and grief I went through with SIF; then I wouldn't be here, putting my time and energy into a dream that could have easily been cast aside while raising two children.

I feel in time this blog will come to a natural end. I will keep it going for a few more months. But really, I'm not sure I have a lot to share about SIF these days. Sure I still have my moments where I see a bump/baby/two siblings playing and pine for what might have been. It is without a doubt a life experience that I will never, ever forget because in many ways going through SIF has shaped who I am today. I certainly have more depth emotionally and way more compassion and understanding around loss as a result.

I guess you could say I'm doing ok. I still apply self-preservation and don't plan to go frocklicking in the sun in fields of babies anytime soon! But I know somehow, that each time that I feel a pang when I hear others talk about their completed families, that I am slowly being healed. God does have His own plans for me. For a long time I was in the corridor waiting to see which door would open for me. Now I can finally walk through this amazing door God has in front of me right now that has the sun bursting underneath with so much promise and hope. I trust that this door/my new path will provide the abundance, joy and opportunities that will fulfill me - perhaps as much as or at least in a different way, to what mothering for the second time would have.

Lessons Learnt

It must be about six weeks since our adoption file expired. The first month post-it all ending was hard - way more emotions came up then I expected. I felt very raw and defeated.

But I'm feeling better about things now. I'm a big believer in feeling your feelings and working through things - pain comes up for a reason, and if faced, better times are on the other side of trying times. Sometimes a shift in perspective is all that is required - and this is something that can only come with time.

I suppose I've emerged out of the SIF chapter in my life a much stronger person. I certainly have way more compassion than I ever had before - and I was an empathetic, compassionate person before all this.

Life and the lemon's it throws, either to myself and others no longer surprise me. It's not that I think life completely sucks. More like, I think life is actually pretty good. But tragedy is part of life and will affect each and every one of us in different ways, either personally or to those who we love.

With SIF behind me, I feel I am able to understand big loss and major grief in a way I never could before. I understand that some life events are near impossible to overcome or if they can be overcome, could take a very long time to heal from.

I understand about rebuilding a life when a dream has been lost. About starting again and finding a new direction.

I really, really get at a deep level, that life is not perfect.

Accepting life on life's terms, and being able to see the bigger picture is finally allowing me the perspective I've needed to put SIF behind me. It is something that happened to me. Not something that is happening to me now.

Sure, I will get triggered probably in some way for the rest of my life. Pregnancy, babies and siblings  - those are all bittersweet things that will always be part of my life as life is about child-birth and families, afterall. I don't think I will ever be cured or done and dusted completely with SIF.

But I will not dwell on it. I have a belief in God and God is helping me let go, to finally move on from a dream that wasn't meant to be. I do trust that a different life awaits. I have to trust that it will be a life that will be just as good as the one I hoped for.

I feel blessed today. I've come out of all this with a new gratitude and appreciation for what is, rather than what isn't. Life can change in an instance. Things don't always go as we hoped and planned. But it is possible to not only survive the impossible, it is possible, I believe, to thrive.

I have booked to do a novel writing course next Sunday. I am deadly serious that I will write my book about my own secondary infertility experience. I am not afraid to share my story and to be an advocate for those in society who often go through SIF in silence. I don't think it should be or that it needs to be that way.

Last weekend my seven year old daughter and I went to Sydney for a weekend. It was a whirlwind trip - fun to see family and the sights of Sydney. I know I will now make more of an effort to spend time with family outside of our city now that our daughter really is a confirmed only child.

We have had some challenging times with our daughter - her autism changes as she gets older and in many ways although it is easier to read, it is harder to manage. I do think any sibling our daughter may have had would have being greatly impacted by her autism.

At the same time, our daughter was asking recently about adoption and we had to explain it was all over - we had explained it before, but I guess she's still digesting it. We talked about fostering. Even she said "Maybe when I'm older." But I don't know - I'm really not sure about fostering for us. I guess we will leave things as they are for this year. I have another operation for my arm later this year (to remove the metal). It doesn't feel like the right time at all to be considering opening our home to foster children.

My replacement starts at work tomorrow and we will be training for three weeks together. I haven't yet found another job but have applied and enquired about a couple of jobs to do with community/social work. It is the first time in five and a half years I'll be looking for a job for me as a career move as opposed to a job to do "until the baby comes." There is some freedom in that.

So all in all, I would say I'm in a pretty good place. I had a big response to the poem I wrote "Don't Leave Me Alone" in my last post, two weeks ago. I put it on Facebook and got some interesting feedback - many valued the insight to SIF. I was hurting when I wrote it and it was incredibly healing both writing and sharing it. That is my hope for those that follow in my footsteps with SIF; that they don't feel they have to get through it alone - that those around them will reach out as much as they possibly can. Nobody can take away the pain of SIF but being supported, even in a small way helps.

Don't Leave Me Alone

Don't leave me alone

To stew in my grief

Because it's not my fault

My family is incomplete

My body went through

"The change" very young

Amongst my peers

I feel like the only one

People think

Because I have one

That the pain isn't as deep

As those that have none

I feel so guilty

To have wanted another child

I have been called greedy

And for that I feel judged

Nobody seems to know

What to do or say

But it's a death I'm experiencing

So I need help in the same way

A phone-call, a cuppa

Just asking me how I am

All of these things will help me

To feel not as lonely as I am

Grief is not something

That disappears one day

Just because we are at the end

Doesn't mean the pain

Has gone away

My heart is still breaking

Every single day

Reminders are everywhere

Of the child that wasn't
Meant to be

Please understand if

I cannot rejoice

In your pregnancy or your baby

As I didn't have a choice

I want to be free

To move on from this pain

If you'd listen to me for a moment

Then a lot could be gained

Don't ever judge

If you haven't been in my shoes

I should have a right to be a mother

To as many kids as I chose

It's been a long journey

Lasting five and a half years

So many methods

So many tears

There is no quick fix

No easy answer

As secondary infertility

Was simply my personal disaster 

Lonely Times

Dealing with the aftermath of our failed attempts at adding to our family would have to be the hardest thing I have ever being through. Mainly because I feel so very alone. There is nobody to turn to at this time, no shoulder to cry on.

Sure, God is out there somewhere but the truth me known - I am angry with him at this point in time.

I try to open up as much as I possibly can in order to release some of the pain I am carrying around. But it either falls on deaf ears or ears that get it so wrong.

This morning two Mum-of-two friends were talking about birthday parties and how they were trying to simplify things now their eldest kids were older. One of them said "It must be different for you, because you have an only child." To which I replied "Well because I couldn't have the second child I wanted, I celebrate birthdays (not that I'm saying you two don't celebrate birthdays) by going with whatever she (my daughter) wants to do." There was silence after that statement. Gosh I wish people had a clue as to how painful this actually is.

Today another friend said to me something along the lines of "You're lucky to have one, plenty of women can't have any" to which I responded "That just makes me feel more guilty for having the grief that I have." (something like that). Silence, once gain.

What I really want is someone to call or pop round for a cuppa and just me talk, let me vent, let me release my grief. But it's all too taboo, too uncomfortable and too socially awkward for most to deal with.

Even the woman from the infertility support group I started who has had a baby recently said  in an email " I couldn't pretend to understand what you're going through." But that statement has made me feel so very, very alone.

My seven year old daughter is watching a video of her first year of her life right now. I had to leave the room. I cannot do babies right now. It is too, too painful to watch knowing that that was it - I won't get to repeat those glorious years ever again.

I've felt so alone in my pain this week that I've been googling secondary infertility in a desperate attempt to ease my intense loneliness and overwhelming grief. Perhaps it's time I went for another round of counselling. I am swimming in a sea of grief that is too big for me to manage.

 I want to look on the bright side but my grief is too big right now to do that completely. I agreed with another Mum Of One (who doesn't know about my secondary infertility), that having one child had it's perks this week, such as being able to travel more and to travel longer distances (because of price). Next weekend I am taking my daughter to Sydney to see my sister and niece. I'm not sure we'd be going over for a weekend if I had two kids.

I want God to fill this baby-shaped hole with something else. It seems so unfair that after all I've been through, I'm still left feeling disappointed, dissatisfied, empty and so very, very alone. At least God, take away this desire to have another child - it seems so cruel to live with a dream that is forever-broken.

So I shall go and take my dog for a walk out in the darkness of the night now. I might shed some tears and plead with God to lessen my pain. I want to be ok, to find peace, to embrace new dreams. I want to be set free from the prison of secondary infertlity that has tormented me for way too long.

Now What?

I have surprised myself as to just how rough I have found reaching the end of the road to be. I thought I had processed and accepted so much over the last five and a half years - so to be feeling as raw as I do right now is a shock. I really thought I'd be doing better than I am. But I can't change the way I feel.

I spent the first part of Mother's Day in tears this year. At first I didn't want to go out. I didn't want to be out there, in the world of completed families celebrating my incomplete family. I cried into my husband's arms that it  it was all my fault that we were here - no baby because of my body - and that we had to go through the adoption process all for nothing...

But my daughter wanted to go out and so did my husband. So we found a not-so-busy cafe, which was perfect for the frame of mind I was in. We sat out in the sunshine and had lunch then went for a drive to visit A Guinea Pig Village I'd heard about. There was an adorable shop nearby and I got spoilt with a few things from that shop for Mother's Day. So in the end, I was able to celebrate the day despite the grief that came up.

It has been so hard sitting with this grief that most have no clue I am carrying. I want to scream at the Mums Of Two or more that I sit chatting with as we wait for our kids after school that I couldn't have any more kids. Couldn't even adopt, as it turns out. I want them to know that I wanted, more than anything, to Be A Mother Again. More than anything.

So now what God? I have handed my life over to Him but I have no idea what comes next. I've just four weeks left in my job and I don't know where I'll end up next job-wise. I am picky. I want and deserve to be happy and so am being very careful and selective around what I apply for. I am drawn to either working with children with special needs or going back into the abnormal psychology field (I have previous experience in both areas). 

I fear my heartache won't subside. I've had to apply self-preservation big-time. I cannot be around pregnant women and if I have to be; it has to be at arm's-length. I cannot cope with babies at this time. A woman from the infertility support group I started has had a baby recently but I've told her I'll have to leave visiting for a while as I'm processing my own fate and that has been hard. 

I want to kick and scream and yell at anyone who cares to listen that I am struggling to accept our outcome at this point in time. The trouble is, nobody really does want to listen. Babies smile at me, toddlers walk towards me, preschoolers want to talk to me - and my heart breaks every time. I'm not sure any of this will ever make sense - why I have such a desperate longing to be a Mum again and why it wasn't to be.

So in the meantime - until I get to the place where I've settled into the life God has chosen for us - I have to find other things to focus on. At the same time, God has given me many signs that it's time to slow down, to give myself a break, to stop and to listen to what He has to say. Easier said than done.

What I've realised is that in order to cope with my intense feelings of grief over the last few years, I've created (unintentionally), a very busy life. My job is one that is flat-out with never enough hours in the day and often involves extra unpaid hours. This has meant I've struggled to fit part-time work around my husband's 12 hour shifts and the needs of my autistic daughter. I've been "running" for so long - trying to fit in the gym and community commitments amongst the chaos of work and home. No wonder I tripped and fell six months ago and seriously broke my arm at the elbow. No wonder I have a rash on my chin right now that doesn't appear to be going away in a hurry. No wonder I am emotionally depleted. It has all been too much to handle.

But it's a new chapter now, whether I like it or not. I am trying out a Tai Chi class on Monday night as I'm attracted to more gentle forms of exercise right now and am more than happy to let go of my gym membership. I have found a novel-writing workshop next month so plan to attend that. I've applied for a couple of jobs that match family life and hopefully won't be such a stretch should I get one of them.

I'm a fighter. I know I'll get there. I have to get there. It's just such a lonely road. More than ever. I just don't know anyone who went through secondary infertility and didn't get a baby. All my contacts did in the end...So no-one understands just how awful it is to be faced with a garage-full of clothes, toys and bikes that you were hoping to pass on to your second child. No-one gets it. And I'm too tired and burnt out from it all to even begin to explain my feelings. I'm done with justifying why I feel the grief I do.

Our profile got sent back to us last week. Wow, was that a kick in the teeth. Yes I knew it was coming back - but to receive it back in the mail...I cannot bring myself to open up the courier package at this stage. Not now. One day it will, as my husband says, be a historical document of a point in time in our lives. Of a dream we hoped for. Hopefully one day we'll look back and see all the good things that happened instead.

I feel so many things right now that it's almost impossible to name all the feelings. But the feeling that hurts the most is a lack of hope. I have lost some drive and oomph in my life because of this whole experience - it has left me feeling weak, hopeless and disspirited. I can only hope that this gentle path that God is prompting me to go on now - the one where life will slow right down (or as much as possible!), will allow time to heal, to reconnect with myself in mind, body and soul, and to find joy in other things again.

It's Over

Well it's over. Two weeks ago our adoption file expired and that was the end of a very long chapter. Five and a half years of waiting, hoping, praying and emotional harrowing times, over.

To be honest, it isn't that easy being at the end of it all. I've been letting go and preparing for the outcome that has been obvious for some time - the no baby outcome - the living as a Family Of Three outcome. But now that we're here - at the end - it is actually very sad.

Even my husband who I thought had let go of the whole adding-to-our-family hopes quite some time ago; felt as though the ending was all rather flat. He commented one weekend how our seven year old daughter was reading to our two year old neighbour and how cute that was...

I feel as if I have a responsibility to be more upbeat than I feel right now - a responsibility to those who read this blog and may be following in my tracks; that surviving infertility and not actually beating it is ok.

But it's not.

It's so not ok. It sucks big-time that after all these years, all that time and energy was wasted  - for nothing.

I don't feel bitter though.

Just very, very disappointed. Hurt. And disillusioned.

But I know that I will be okay.

I will continue to be real about this, as I have all the way through. It is no piece of cake living with infertility - and it seems once you reach the end of the road and your dreams are shattered - all you are left with are crumbs.

It is no coincidence that I resigned from my job the day after our adoption file expired. I figured if I cannot change the size of my family, then I will change the job that I am not happy in!

I think those who go through infertility and are left with nothing - no result; no baby to be blessed with are indeed dished out a pretty raw deal. It must be so incredible to survive infertility and to eventually get the baby - to finally hold it in your arms and breathe "It was all worth it." Suddenly all the heartache and agony of the years gone by could be understood because afterall, if one hadn't endured infertility; there would be no baby.

But for those of us who come out of this without the baby- the whole thing can feel like a bit of a sham (well it does for me!). Sure, I have grown emotionally and spiritually. I've started a support group for women going through infertility locally. I'm even writing a book, for goodness sakes about my journey! I'm giving back, I'm helping, I'm being open about it all. You could say, my reason for going for all this was so I could help others.

Yet the sight of siblings together, a baby in a pram, a pregnant belly - those sights have never lost their power to cause me to crumble on the inside. Why did God not think I should be a mother again? It is a question I daren't explore too deeply as searching for an answer will only leave me depressed.

Just the other week a Mum Of Three proudly wheeled her newborn into the school grounds. I had my sunglasses on, but I had tears streaming down my cheeks as just days earlier our adoption file had expired. And I sat there flanked on each side by two Mums Of Two who were comparing the personalities and similarities of their children - the old second child spiel...it was absolutely heartbreaking.

Our social worker phoned recently to double-check that we'd really reached the end of the road. I confirmed we didn't want to reapply and to go through the adoption process all over again. She said she will  be sending our profile back in the mail. There was a time when I thought we were good candidates for adoption - I feel like a bit of a fool right now. I know we gave it our best shot - but we weren't picked. And that hurts.

Our social worker asked us about Home For Life - which is what permanent fostering is called here in New Zealand. I said we'd leave it for now, but that we had talked about it before. I feel we need time to heal as a family before considering going down that path. I'm personally not up to going through yet another process for fostering. Also with fostering, you would get a child - an older one - not a baby - as there are obviously loads of children out there who need foster homes. Maybe one day we might look into it but the time is not right at the moment. I also have big concerns about mixing our daughter with autism with a child with emotional/behavioural problems.(which is the reality of fostering). So I'm not going there for now.

I feel as if outwardly I have nothing to show for what I've been through. At least six months on post-accident the scar on my arm is so very visible and obvious from the two surgeries I have after I broke my elbow. People see it and ask about it.  But infertility - it's invisible. So many people I know have no idea what I've been through.

But it's a case of onwards and upwards - because there's nowhere else to go. At least I can really sink my teeth into my book now as the conclusion has been finally reached and I needed the ending before I could write my book properly.

I wish I felt as if I was in more acceptance than I am right now about the whole thing. I want others to know who are in the midst of infertility that the finality we are all so very afraid of (no baby) isn't so bad. But I can't lie - getting here, where I am, feels like a tragedy. I can't pretend it's any different. Telling the truth and speaking from the heart is simply my style.

I will be okay though. I know that. I am just processing and trying to make some kind of sense of the last five and a half years, that's all. I have to trust that my life will open up in a different way.

A New Freedom

It seems I have been waiting a very long time to end my SIF/family building journey. So unbelievable in some ways that in a weeks time, it will all be over!

Relief has been the main feeling I've felt for the last few months. Relief that life can soon/now be about different things - other things.

I had coffee with a friend this weekend who is going through primary infertility. How nice it was to be able to share with her that there is an end to it all - an end to the emotional torture, regardless of whether a baby comes or not.

We purchased some bunks this week for our spare room. When we bought our house two years ago, one of the reasons was because it was a three bedroom home and could accommodate our hoped-for family-of-four. The social worker from Adoption Services came round and inspected our place. She ticked it off as been a good home for an adopted child.

So for the two years we've lived here, our spare room has been an in-between room - a room that might one day be decorated or kitted out for our addition.

Now that that isn't going to happen, we've accepted that our spare room is a guest room/office (aka my "woman-cave"!). It's not the biggest of rooms so the bunks fit perfectly for guests and I have space to write in the office and do whatever else I want to do (blog, use Facebook...)

The closure around this era feels good. I'm certainly ready for it and embracing it - the end of an era.

There are changes ahead.  I was sharing with the friend going through primary infertility how small my world became when dealing with secondary infertility/going through premature menopause. Well my world is opening up again and I just want to embrace and enjoy life.

I am not happy in my job and am making steps towards finding another one. I have decided I want to do teacher aiding as it fits in with school hours and working with special needs children has always been an interest of mine, even before I was a Mum and ended up with a daughter with autism - that is simply one of life's ironies. 

My current part-time job is demanding and unrewarding in so many ways.  I am done with it. I want to teacher-aide and then find time in my week to write, write, write - because at the moment that (writing) isn't happening as much as I'd like it to. My brain is too full with the stress of my job and I am exhausted a lot with my husband working 12 hour days. 

I want and deserve a more balanced life - especially after enduring a disappointment (understatement) like the one I've been through - 5.5 years of pining is too bloody long, if you ask me. And not in character with how I usually respond to life's u-turns. Normally I get it quite fast in the piece - I back paddle out of situations that don't appear to be working for me. But not with SIF. It was just something I couldn't let go of for a very long time.

But I have no regrets. I TTC, used fertility drugs and went through the adoption process for another child and nothing worked. I can't say I didn't try or didn't give it my best shot.

Now that I have a conclusion, I finally feel I can sit down and spend some time writing my book about my experience. Even though I've been blogging on this topic for four years, and I've wanted to write a book about it for some time and have started editing my blog; I did need an ending to give me a perspective of some sort. I like that I can offer a tale of stamina, strength and honesty based on not getting what I wanted.

I've met a few women - mainly online but also some in real life (through the infertility support group I started), who once they got pregnant after a time of infertility, hoped and even believed that I would too - or later down the track,  believed that we would get picked as adoptive parents. I wanted to have the faith these women had for me after their dreams were realised but I guess at some point reality hit and I knew the chances of me joining them were incredibly slim, for reasons known only by God.

When I drove past Adoption Services this week I could only think it was meant to be part of our journey - going through the adoption process. I learnt a lot and healed too around not being able to have a biological child at that time. I know I could raise a child that wasn't biologically ours now. I probably always could have done that, but after having a biological child it did take a while to make that leap.

Now I'm in a position of seeing the word's children in a different way - it's not just about mothering our own, it's about mothering those that come to us. I know with teacher aiding I will bond with children in some amazing ways. I've been there before, a lifetime ago before I was a mother myself - nurturing children with special needs. I guess this is the direction I am meant to be heading in.

The Final Countdown...

Wow, 14 days to go until our adoption fire expires. Two weeks to go until we will be finally done and dusted with this long, painful and frustrating period of our lives.

I know once we're officially out of the pool of prospective adoptive parents, I will be able to move on and make sense of things.

Over the last few days our seven year old daughter has been asking about siblings again. When she asked today I had to say that we weren't picked - that there were lots of families to choose from and they were all different so there were lots of choices for the families adopting out. I'm not sure how much of it she got. She just wanted a chance to be a "big sister".

As I walked back from the fish and chip shop tonight, I saw two siblings (one is in my daughter's class) playing happily together on a trampoline. I know our daughter is missing out, not having a sibling in so many ways. I have to try extra hard to provide her with play dates so that she is around other children as much as possible. This is easier said than done when autism is added to the mix.

Who knows how things might have gone had another child being added to our family. If it had happened biologically, perhaps we may have ended up with a second child with autism. That could have been a possibility. Or if we'd adopted, who knows what the dynamic between our daughter and another sibling would have been like. I know from the families I know with autistic children that their siblings are affected and things can be tricky. But at the same time, family is family and to have a sibling that loves you for you; that is priceless.

I spoke to a very close friend today who went through primary infertility and went on to try for another child but it didn't happen - she reached the end of the road recently with that. So we were able to share about our journey's and the relief we felt at being at the end of it all. We tried to be positive about it all, as best as we could.

I packed up some of my daughter's old clothes today to post to one of my sister-in-law's who has three children. It's all her size six and seven clothing. I always find it to be a little heart-wrenching saying goodbye to her old things - things that represent different eras that I'll never get back, especially because she's my only one.

Now my daughter is seven she seems like such a big-little girl - no longer a new entrant at school and so sophisticated in her thinking and speech in lots of ways.

Even though I am reflecting back a bit as we approach the end of the road with this journey; I am also looking forward. I just want life to be as fun and as light as possible after all the heaviness and seriousness of the last five and a half years. Life is short and I can't stop life throwing me a lemon every now and then. But I can enjoy the good bits and make the most of things the way they are.

Adoption File Expires in 3 Weeks!

Finally it's April 2012. The month and the year in which this five and a half year chapter in my life finishes. At long-bloody-last!!

I'm well over it. And in many ways I have moved on - emotionally and spiritually. I've carried on with my life and gone on to live it as a Family Of Three. Who knows when exactly I determined that it was best to stop hoping and dreaming for A Family Of Four. I guess it happened in stages. I just couldn't do it to myself anymore.

I've found a new freedom in accepting what wasn't meant to be. Though admittedly a little part of me - (so very, very small) - wonders if at the end of all this, at the eleventh hour, if we might get "The Phone-Call." That is, the call they talk about during the adoption process where the social worker apparently starts the call with "Are you sitting down?" Because what follows are the words that those couples (and singles) in the pool of prospective adoptive parents dream about "You've been picked!" (by a birth family.)

I'm not going to pretend I haven't played out that scenario and had visions of us all hopping into in the car off to some part of the country to collect "our baby." Moments of intense emotion have been anticipated too around taking home "our baby" while comforting the Birth Mum.

Yep, I have lived in hope and fantasy for a very long time.

So in three weeks time I genuinely am pleased that I can finally rid my hands free of secondary infertility. Because by that point I will no longer be TTC, trying fertility treatments. undergoing surgery or waiting for a baby to be adopted into our family in order for our family to feel complete. Secondary infertility will not be relevant - and hopefully will be very much redundant in my life. Because life will no longer be about trying to add to our family or trying to change what perhaps wasn't meant to be.

This period of time is significant not just because our adoption file is about to expire, but because I can now officially say I've been through "The Change." Yep, at 43 I am post-menopausal. I am finally on the other side of what was a very difficult transition - mainly because I did want another child but also because I was only 38 years old when I started going into premature menopause.

Our daughter is now seven years old. She was just 18 months old when I TTC for the second time. Most of her life has been about trying to add to our family. I always told her when she was seven we'd know whether a baby was coming to us or not. In three weeks time, when our adoption file finally expires, I will be able to give her that closure.

She hasn't asked about another sibling for a while. Perhaps her needs have changed or she's accepted her status as an only child. She gets lonely at times and my heart breaks during those moments. But she also, with her autism, needs a lot of space and quiet times. Maybe being an only child is what was best for her - even though it wasn't what I wanted.

We've had my husband's brother staying with us for the last six weeks. It has been challenging for all of us sharing our small three bedroomed home. Fostering for now remains something that may or may not be looked into further in the future. Perhaps it would be too disruptive - especially if it wasn't permanent. For now it doesn't feel like the right track to go down.

I think for anyone who has been through a loss and survived, the only way to move is forward. That is where I've been headed for a while now. But our upcoming closure in three weeks will help me further. I know I will really be able to get my teeth stuck into other dreams - such as writing my book about secondary infertility - once I've been set free.

I've learnt so much over the last five and half years. I know that my experience with SIF is more than just the death of a dream. It has been about opening up to the lessons offered when life throws a lemon - to allow myself to grow emotionally and spiritually at those times. I have mainly learnt that life is imperfect and that the bumps come along at any time. For that reason, I have given up fighting life and am accepting things the way they are - no matter how uncomfortable that is at times.

Updated Profile Handed In

Well I finally handed in our updated profile this week. I printed it off and then took it to our social worker. We sat down for a short five minute chat. She was checking in to see where we were at with things.

She asked twice if we wanted to remain in the pool of prospective parents past April and I said no. I said we very sure and happy with our decision to leave the pool at the end of April. I told her I was in a good place with it all and that other things were starting to open up in life. She said it sounded like a good place to be.

So I feel free in that knowing that's it - there is nothing further to do, no more updates to worry about. We have just six weeks left!! After that point, the whole journey of secondary infertility followed by the adoption process will finally come to an end.

I have to say, I'm pretty happy about that. :)

Despite my positive outlook of late, I do still get triggered by baby bumps and families of more than one. But it doesn't ruin my day like I used to. It's very much an in-the-moment kind of reaction. It is no nice to not be consumed by grief.

There are some friends I have kept on the outer for the last two years or more who have two or more children. For self-preservation reasons, I was only able to handle a couple of friendships in my life with women who had the families I'd dreamed and hoped about for so long while in the throes of SIF.

Now I'm slowly reconnecting with these women - and connecting with them around other things - not just motherhood.

I've been putting my book about secondary infertility together ever so slowly. I'm glad I'm writing it now as I think there will come a point where I don't want to think about it deeply any more. There are other things I want to write about - I want to have some fun with it all!

I hosted a meeting for the infertility support group I started up a couple of weeks back. The topic was Hope. Three women came along who have joined in the last six months. An infertility support network is certainly something that is needed in the community. I still run it but don't attend all the coffee groups for two reasons - the majority of women in the network are going through primary infertility and secondly because I'm not TTC and haven't been doing so for years. For now I just host formal meetings every four months and just email out suggested dates for coffee togethers. It seems to work.

I'm connected to an online early menopause group here in New Zealand, but I'm not a very active member. I was asked to submit a few sentences in order to part of alongside a handful of women to be selected for an upcoming magazine article. This is what I wrote:

Hi, I’m Lynda. When I was 38 years old my husband and I started trying for our second baby. It became clear quite early in the piece that something was array; especially since we conceived my daughter after just three months of trying. I slowly stopped ovulating and my periods became few and far between. My blood tests revealed that I could have POF – premature ovarian failure but this was never formally diagnosed. What followed was a year and a half of chasing herbalists, GPs, gynaecologists and eventually an infertility specialist in order to find an answer. I look relatively young for my age and no-one wanted to say the “M” word ie: menopause. I even had an operation at one point to remove a cyst in the hope that this would somehow restore my fertility. But deep down I knew I was undoubtedly going through premature menopause as I was experiencing hot flushes, night sweats, painful sex, my cycles were diminishing and I was battling mood swings. I was desperate to conceive another child but had to face the reality that wasn’t going to happen shortly before I turned 40 years old. Going through premature menopause was huge for me. It was an identity crisis unlike any other I have ever experienced! I felt much older than my years for a long time and this affected my self-esteem and femininity as a woman. I felt like a failure because I was unable to have any more children as well as feeling robbed by what should have been my God-given right. My sex drive was basically zilch as I went through it and I felt guilty as a consequence within my marriage. We are currently in the pool of prospective adoptive parents and our file expires this April. We’ve made a decision not to renew it as we are ready to move on. It has taken me years to work through and accept my fate of premature menopause. I’m now 43 years old and finally at peace with it all.

It was a really good exercise to write as it helped me condense my story in my head while at the same time giving me an opportunity to acknowledge my huge, life-changing journey! It was timely too in that I'm not "in" the midst of SIF anymore. I am most definitely on the other side of one harrowing journey that I wouldn't wish upon any woman.

The other day I was sitting outside my daughter's classroom, waiting for her to come out after school. I was talking to a friend and another Mum and somehow we started talking about menopause. The other Mum (who I don't know so well) shared how she's been through menopause - that she started at 43. I said I was 43 now and had been through menopause too - and that I had started at 38. She said "That is young." It was good to get that acknowledgment. I don't go around sharing my hormonal state with everybody; but I'm not afraid to in the right context. I'm all about educating and advocating!

It Might Not Be Right

I've been doing a lot of pondering over the last little while - about adoption/God/life. Yep, some soul-searching has been going on and with that has come a change in perspective.

Over five years of wanting things to be different in my life - or at least a thing (another baby in our family); caused me to have a negative outlook in life. I became a victim and although I was able to see some beauty in my life; the blinkers were on and I lost the ability to smell the roses.

In short, I was robbed of a lot of joy and contentment in my life. It was not a nice way to live.

Somehow, time, months and years of processing all this SIF shite, a reconnection with the God of my understanding and a very different take on life lately have resulted in a much healthier outlook.

Five years of "unaccepting" has ironically enough, led me to a place of acceptance.

Somehow breaking my elbow has resulted in a significant change in perspective. I have (finally) accepted the imperfections that life brings - accepted that life doesn't always go as planned; the unexpected happens and that we never know what is around the corner.

After five years of waiting and wanting another baby in our family; I do still question if it is the right thing for us now. So much has changed.

In the time I spent creating an "in-between" life - the life I had to keep me busy while I waited for our family to be "complete" - I have created a new life for myself - one that I have grown into and one that I am beginning to truly enjoy, for the first time in years.

The other day in town I was walking around alone while my daughter was at school, missing her like I often do and remembering all those days before she started school when she and I would have trips into town together or to the beach/park/cafes/wherever. There were of course several Mums in town pushing babies in buggies. It seems so long ago that that was me. So long ago that now, with my daughter turning seven in several weeks time, I find it hard to imagine handling a baby again.

I also was thinking in town how much time and energy looking after a baby requires. I am the sort of Mum that gives everything - or at least, that's how I was with my daughter when she was very young and dependent.

I have changed post-accident. Because my of arm injury, my parenting is different. Obviously I love my daughter in the same way I always have. But I need rest at the moment with my arm and I cannot do some things that I used to do with my daughter. It's been good for her independence, but hard in some ways for the two of us. I have to tell her Mummy needs to sit for half an hour (with a cast I have to wear to help straighten my arm) and that she has to do things for herself in that time.

What I'm trying to say is; I don't have it in me any more to ran around after a child! I'm not one hundred recovered by any means from my accident. I still have a way to go. And the reality is; I may and most probably will have for life, a permanent injury.

So in town I was thinking given that I only have a certain amount of energy and my passion for writing is reemerging loud and strong; I'm not sure I even want to sacrifice it all for another baby. Yep, you heard right!

Can you believe it?! After all this time, all this pining, all this grief and pain - and now I'm losing interest?!

Ironically just as I was having these thoughts in town one of the former adoption social workers walked by. Just as I was thinking, perhaps creativity is my "baby" now - not a baby in the flesh as such.

So what a turnaround. I'm not sure I'd be here if it wasn't for my arm-accident. It truly has been life-changing.

But, I do still plan to hand in our updated profile anyway very soon as our social worker is back from holiday. I figure we've gotten this far, I may as well. Even though I can't help but wonder if God wants me to let go of this dream - to figure it out for myself - and to not rely on Him for an answer/conclusion.

Still In Two Minds

Well, it seems I am still in turmoil as to whether to hand in our updated profile or not to our social worker. Our social worker is back from holidays this week so I need to make a decision soon...

Just when I think I've decided what I want to do about things, I don't feel a hundred percent satisfied with my decision. I guess we could always say no - if by some huge miracle we got picked as adoptive parents over the next couple of months, and I didn't feel up to it.

Because that's the truth. I don't feel up to parenting another child right now - for a number of reasons. I'm emotionally burnt-out after 5.5 years of living in the inbetween - living a life on hold and hoping for something that has seemed so far out of reach. Physically I'm in a lot of pain with my arm still and exhausted as daily life has an impact on my arm and I often have sleepless nights as it's very hard to get comfortable.

Spiritually I'm probably doing well with it all. I have given up trying to make life be the way I want it to be. It is so much easier living with what is rather than what isn't.

I have discovered a new-found freedom as I get closer to the end of this rather long era in my life. I do feel a lot more positive about life and am more engaged. I guess a lot of the energy that went into the pain and grief of SIF for so long has been turned around. It is a much better place to be in.

This is my third week of turning my blog into a book. Although I enjoy writing, it does bring stuff up reading some of my posts. I certainly went through some very hard times. (understatement!)

I know things are shifting in ways I cannot describe. Perhaps because I am ready to just let things unfold as they are meant to, I can finally enjoy the life I have been given.

I've planned a few trips over the next few months. My sense of adventure and fun has been reignited. I'm off to my hometown next month for work (for a weekend), then over Easter am going on a road trip with my family of three to the Westcoast of the South Island (just over three hours drive from where we live). In June my daughter and I are heading to Sydney for my niece's 10th birthday.

It feels as though I am able to celebrate again. I realised that we hadn't been away as a family of three for a while so I'm looking forward to our family-of-three road trip.

My relationships and friendships with MOTs (Mums-Of-Two) - or more - are easier. Although a part of me will probably always get a pang of jealousy or a stab of grief when I see siblings playing together; I no longer feel as resentful to the MOTs as I used to.

I even went and had a cup of tea with a Mum Of Three who lives across the road from me yesterday. She is going through treatment for breast cancer so is going through a lot. But we were able to talk openly about all sorts of things. Because of SIF, I feel I was able to understand the emotional side of being diagnosed with cancer.

Last weekend my sister and my niece visited from Sydney. My niece is also an only-child. My daughter said she wished they were sisters but we all agreed that cousins were a close second to being siblings.

I have never really seriously considered raising an only child as I didn't want that to be the case for so long. Now that it is most likely the way it is going to be permanently, I will make allowances for that the best I can. I can no longer think the heartache of being an only child will be taken away by the arrival of another sibling as that just doesn't feel like a possibility anymore.

I think I need to do some soul-searching over the next few days and decide whether or not I want to drop off our updated profile. I think it would be quite freeing to let go of the whole adoption process right now. I need to have a few words with God to see what He thinks.

At Crossroads

A week ago my body started to have what I think is a backlash to all the medication I've been on post-surgery the last couple of months. I've had vomiting, nausea, stomach cramps and well, the rest. Scarily many of the symptoms are in line with bowel cancer. So I went to my Dr and have been recommended to have a colonoscopy. I'm not sure yet if I'm going ahead with it.

After my recent accident with my arm, and my five plus years of dealing with SIF; it has almost been too much.

Yet, it seems it has all been a huge lesson in powerlessness. There is so much in life that can't be controlled, or predicted. Somehow recognising this at a deep level has propelled me into a much more positive frame of mind.

It's now February and in two months time we will have our answer around our family size - finally! There is sadness in the mix but more than that, there is relief. I'm so over living in the in-between and waiting for life to be different or better. I want to get back to enjoying life as it is today - instead of desperately wanting things to be different all the time.

It's almost as though a big part of me is at crossroads and wants to pull the plug now on our adoption plans. I strongly feel that that isn't God's Will for us - to adopt - so I almost cannot be bothered handing in our upgraded profile. Although I've amended all our changes and it's all ready to print, for whatever reason I just didn't get it done before our social worker went away for three weeks. So she won't get it until the end of the month now.

Even my husband has sensed a change in the wind - that we have moved on somehow from adoption. That perhaps adoption really wasn't meant to be. If I hadn't hurt my arm so badly; perhaps I wouldn't be feeling this way so strongly. But somehow having a physical injury has made it pretty obvious that right now isn't the best time for us to adopt.

Even though my physio gave me the green light to go ahead with adoption, when I sit in the silence and think about things; I know in my heart of hearts that I'm not one hundred percent well yet post-accident. I would like to change jobs this year but even with that feel I need to get a lot more stronger/further along in the healing of my arm before I can put myself out there again.

I guess over the last few years and particularly in the last few months; I have been preparing myself for the inevitable. I've got to a point in which I have to and want to create a different future. I know 2012 will be a better year because I will finally get to move on; I will finally be able to rebuild my life.

Not been able to conceive and then (most likely) not been able to adopt caused me to lose faith in dreams for quite some time. But somehow lately I've managed to pick myself up off the ground and to rediscover old dreams. My inner spark is returning as is my belief that life can be wondrous.

I've talked about it for a few years - writing a book about secondary infertility - but just wasn't quite there in my journey until now. I needed to have gotten to a certain point with it all and needed to be close to a conclusion. Well that time has finally come...

So I've made a commitment to write a book about my SIF experiences this year. Starting now! I plan to write around five hours a week and will just fit in in around mothering/my job/life.

I feel excited that I'm finally putting into action a dream I've had for so long - to write a book. Ironically the loss of one dream has fueled another dream.

I'm not healed or immune to "second-child envy" by any means. On Facebook the other day when I logged on the first three updates were all to do with second children. Over the course of the last week I have met other Mums for the first time who - without saying so - took my only having one child as a sign that I only wanted one. One Grandma who raised twins was picking up her grandson from son who is also an only child and commented about how lonely he was. All I could do was nod my head in agreement.

Next month my daughter will be seven. I've told her she would know if she would get a brother or sister by the time she is seven. In six weeks - until her birthday - I cannot see that happening.

It feels like a huge milestone as she's now in her third year at school and not so little anymore. It was hard to let go of the under five years. But five and six was still pretty little. I now have an almost seven year old who is independent in lots of ways.

I cannot perhaps express where I'm at with it all in a way that makes complete sense. But I know as far as the spiritual side of things go; I am feeling a huge release around moving on from this looooong chapter in my life. Emotionally I am relieved more than anything.

Back in the game - for three months!

I had an appointment with my physio on Tuesday. She thought that I had progressed quite well with my arm. I can bend it more - but not straighten it so well. Now that I'm back at work, the gym and driving again, my confidence has increased (around living with a bung arm) and she noticed that.

So I asked her. I asked her if she thought I could care for a baby - that our plans to adopt were on hold and that we only had a few months left in the pool of prospective adoptive parents. She said to go for it. She suggested practising carrying around bags of pototoes or flour (!). I said I had been testing the water, trying to lift our cat!

The thing is, she's young and not a Mum and I'm not sure her advice is necessarily right. I feel weak, sore and tired right now. But I am getting better each week. The reality is I will have a disabled arm for life. It will never be the same. I damaged my arm way too severely for it tofully recover. My surgeon and physio have both warned me about this.

I phoned our social worker on Tuesday and told her what the physio said. So she is happy for our file to be reopened. I've just emailed her an edited version of our profile - as a few things have changed over the last six months or so (husband has a new job, we have a dog, I hurt my arm and if we adopted now, I would leave my job for good.) I will be dropping off a colour final version to her by the end of the month.

Our file expires April 29th so we have in effect three months left in the pool of prospective adoptive parents!!

I have to say I am both excited and relieved about this. We have a teeny tiny opportunity in a very small time-frame for something to work out. And if it doesn't; it is finally over. I can honestly say I am glad the end is in sight, whatever happens.

Our social worker said it was time to consider a biannual update if we wanted to go in the pool for another two years. She said we could think about it and come in and let her know. I said we knew already - I told her we didn't want to go in the pool for another two years. In fact I wanted to say "God no!!" when she asked me. I'm so over the waiting. I said we'd consider fostering but that might not be immediately - that later on we'd make contact with the appropriate social worker.

For coming up to five and a half years I have lived a life on hold and I simply can't do it anymore. I'm done. I've started looking to the future and there is hope that a life exists for me post-SIF, that once this era is finally done and dusted I will be free and able to move on. If fostering is something that happens, it will be more likely that we invite a child or children into our home to fit into our lives - not the other way around.

I'm moving forward - somewhere. I even booked a weekend in Sydney for my daughter and I in June. We are going over for my niece's 10th birthday. I got flights for a reasonable price. If I'd waited for another three months - until we got our "answer" around adoption I would have missed out on the flights.

So 2012 is about making life fun again - about something other than what isn't in life. I'm ready for it.

Has My Dream Expired?

I always knew 2012 would be a big year on the SIF front. I knew it would be big in the sense that an answer would finally be given around adding to our family - we would either be welcoming another child into our lives, or moving on from that dream.

For a long time I thought I would have to wait it out until April this year - when our adoption file expires before working out what comes next.

But fate intervened. Breaking my elbow put a big spanner in the works. Two months on from my accident and I still don't feel as though I am in a position to mother a baby. I cannot tie my hair back,wear a regular bra (because I can't do it up) or put on a necklace. My arm extension is severely limited. My surgeries may be over - for now at least - but there is still a long way to go physio-wise. I have three slings to wear at home to help bend and extent my arm. I am in pain and discomfort about eighty percent of the time. I'm driving and am back at work again. But I have a long way to go recovery-wise.

I know within my heart that I have made the right decision putting our adoption plans on hold. But the reality is we may not even be going back into the pool of prospective adoptive parents before April if my arm/physical health isn't greatly improved over the next three months.

As angry as I was at first to have to accept that possibility; it has somehow given me the reality check I needed perhaps to move on for once and for all. Because at the moment the whole adoption deal seems to be moving against us.

So instead of waiting until April, I am making changes now in my life. Changes I need to do for me. I am looking for a new job and am hoping to find work as a teacher aide and to perhaps work voluntarily in a Kindergarten to see if that is the field I want to move into. It seems retraining in 2013 in Early Childhood Education is a big possibility.

Even though I cried when I shared with a friend that one night a voice came to me recently that said "Mummy, go and help the other children." - I believed it was a message from my daughter who passed over during early pregnancy at the age of six weeks. Don't ask me why I think the baby I miscarried was a girl - I just do. I feel her spirit with me often and I feel I am really getting that it is time to let go of my dream of a two-child family. If I hadn't broken my arm and had time to reflect about a lot of things, I'm pretty sure I would be desperately holding out for an adoption outcome in April.

A peacefulness has emerged within our family over the last few weeks. My husband has had three weeks off work, I've worked very small hours so have also been in holiday mode and of course our daughter is on Summer school holidays. We haven't gone far. Many families around us have gone camping. But because of my arm and the pain/discomfort I'm in and the physio I'm still doing and the fact my husband is very happy to stay put after working long hours for months; we stayed at home. We've had very cruisy days holidaying in the town we live in and have had to make the most of our own company since friends have been away. It's been good for us. Almost as though a type of healing has take place.

If this is the way my life is meant to be - as a family of three - then I finally give up the fight to make it different. The universe has made it clear that it's time to move on - that my dream has pretty much expired.

A Brand New Year

2012. Four days into a brand new year and I wonder what it will bring. It is the year in which we will finally gain some closure around our adoption plans as our file expires in April. Our file is currently on hold as I continue to heal from my fall two months ago. I had my second surgery on my arm just a week ago and am still in a lot of pain and discomfort - especially at night. Certainly not in a position to be nurturing a baby, as much as I hate to admit that.

I've been doing some soul-searching/reflecting these last couple of months. One thing that has come resoundingly clear over the last few days is I want to leave my job. I only applied for my job to keep me occupied while my daughter was at school so I wouldn't be at home wallowing in my SIF grief. Too much. And obviously I may as well be earning some dollars during the week too.

On some level, despite the cynical side that dominates my being after five plus years of SIF; I believe everything happens for a reason. So yes, there have been lessons from this job, and experiences gained. There have been loads of challenges and the main one being that the field I work in hasn't been funded by the government for the last two years and it has been like fighting a losing battle.

Before my fall I was stretched managing my job/home-life/my daughter with my husbands' long working days. But now that I'm physically disabled (I cannot extend my right arm and this limits a lot of what I can do), I know that I will be stretched more than ever.

So I am contemplating resigning soon and looking for other work. Not immediately; within the next few months.

I have also been thinking that it is important for me to come up with an alternative if the adoption plans fall through. The reality is, the chances are high that adoption won't work out - and we may not even make it make into the pool of perspective adoptive parents if my arm isn't "baby ready."

Fostering was my original plan C if we couldn't have or adopt another child. But at this point in time my husband isn't so keen...

So come April I need to know that there is something else for me to look forward to in life if (and I want to say when) our adoption plans fail.

I have been thinking about retraining as a Kindergarten teacher - or the correct term - an early childhood education teacher. My degree is in education/psychology so I only would have to do one year to be qualified. It's too late to apply for this year plus I'm not physically well enough to do some serious study. So I'm looking at 2013.

I thought after leaving my job at some point this year that I could have a go at teacher-aide work and perhaps do some volunteer work at the local Kindy to see if is for me.

This might all sound very exciting - and God knows I like to study and retrain. But it breaks my heart that I am now at the point of seriously having to consider another plan to motherhood for the second time round.

Yes I know I would get to "mother" the three and four year olds under my care if I was a Kindy teacher, but I know I would get triggered at times - especially with families of growing families that would be part of my daily life.

I no longer feel as though my life can be great or exist beyond my wildest dreams. My dreams have been shattered anyway - and have been so out of reach for so long, that I no longer know what they are. I once fantasied about being a writer and although that is my passion, the reality is I want to write for me - I enjoy creative writing or writing my story. It is something I can develop in my own time but am unlikely to make a living out of. I'm not really interested in other types of writing. I don't think...

I feel so old and downtrodden. Perhaps I have hoped for too much. I have given up creating the kind of life that I wanted and am instead being guided by God - and am just not at this stage so enthused about the direction He seems to want me to go in. I seem to have lost all positivity and it's not how I want to be. I just have to pray and hope that God will lead me to a new beginning, if that is the way it's meant to go, one day at a time.