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.