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.