Letting go of one dream - to embrace another

I have felt almost on cloud nine since the Education and Preparation programme on Friday. Okay - maybe not cloud nine - but in a pretty good space. And for this SI; good spaces are so very welcome!!

Something shifted on Friday. Whether it is the fact we've made a big leap up the ranks as far as the actual adoption process goes or the simple fact we attended a day-long course that made it all seem so very real and possible - I'm not sure.

I have recognised that I have been in grief for a good couple of weeks around letting go (once again) of my dream to have another biological child. How many layers there are exactly to this grief, I'm not sure. Just when I think I've closed the door on SIF; along comes another lot of intense, raw grief. Yet every time I allow myself to grieve; I come out with more acceptance and there is somehow more of a space between SIF and myself.

So I've just been through another one of these phases. I have made the jump emotionally towards embracing adoption as the way our second child is likely to come to us - if we are so lucky to be picked. After hearing various stories about open adoption here in Nelson on Friday; I know that we can do it as a couple. We're a pretty open and accepting couple as far as people's life-styles go. What I'm trying to say is; with open adoption often the birth families will come with some issues and it is certainly not the place of the adoptive parents to judge.

I can imagine driving/flying somewhere to pick up our baby. It doesn't seem so bizarre although as some of the adoptive Mums said; it is very hard to not feel as though you are stealing someone's baby under the circumstances - mainly at the start of proceedings.

We went up to the hospital yesterday to visit our neighbours who are both under twenty and have just had their first child. I was genuinely happy for them. We were even one of their first visitors. It felt so good to be rapt for someone else. To be resentment-free, even!

I don't expect all my SIF issues are completely behind me. But I do have a strong sense of having moved along quite a way over the last couple of days. We've decided we will stay in the adoption pool for just two years. After two years you have to renew things. I figure if a baby hasn't come along by the time I'm around 43; then it really wasn't meant to be.

I feel as though I can start to plan a bit more around some other things in our lives as really, there is nothing more I/we can do right now than hand our adoption dreams over to God. We're moving through the process - got accepted at the application assessment stage (medicals, police checks and references) as I found out on Friday, so that's pretty exciting. Apparently it's only if they notify you of problems that you need to worry. I'm pretty confident that we will make the final cut, as such. There are a few more stages to go, but we are well over half-way through.

Yesterday our daughter was pretty excited to meet the neighbour's baby in hospital. It was not hard to imagine that one day she could be face-to-face with another newborn that could become her little brother or sister.

I'm full of hope, faith and love right now. Sometimes you have to let go of one dream before another one can fully emerge. I think that is what has happened here.

The Preparation and Education Programme (for Adoption ) - Part I

Today we finally got to go to the Preparation and Education Programme for adoption in New Zealand.

It was a great day. There were seven couples - some had been on the previous Information Meeting back in April - but many we hadn't met before. The majority had travelled from other provincial towns in Malborough and Tasman.

We watched loads of videos all filmed in New Zealand around six/seven years ago (apparently). Clips about closed adoptions and how painful that was for the birth mothers, the adoptive families and the adopted children. There were also clips about adoptive adults who had found their birth families.

There was a "panel" of local adoptive parents too which was very interesting. Great insights into open adoptions that had occurred in recent years. One birth Mum was there too to share her side of the story.

At the beginning of the session we all introduced ourselves by name and by occupation. I "outted" myself as a stay-at-home Mum to a four and a half year old. I didn't want to pretend we weren't parents already though at the beginning my reveal did feel a little uncomfortable.

We got into groups and discussed possible adoption scenarios in the future and talked a lot about loss - for the adoptive parents, the birth parents and the adopted child.

My head is a a-spinning right now as we were there from 9 - 4.30pm. The next session (Part II) is in three weeks. Which is a good thing, I think. It was quite a lot to take in. I think it will be good to have a few weeks to digest everything.

Tonight my husband and I have our date night which will be good - it will be nice to go for a bit of a walk and get some fresh air and maybe a bite to eat somewhere local.

When I write my book about SIF I am going to have to have a chapter called: People Say The Darnest Things (!) as yesterday I was absolutely flabbergasted by my Mum's neighbours "offer". Short story: she came round to tell me her daughter was in labour and then asked me how our adoption plans were going. Which to begin with is bizarre as I don't have a relationship with her and frankly I think our adoption plans are none of her business! Her daughter obviously filled her in...Anyway, she proceeded to tell me that she might be pregnant and didn't want the child as her three kids are fully-grown (she's 47 and had her kids young) and asked me if I wanted her child!! WTF??!! I was speechless!! She asked me how that would work and I said it would have to go through social workers etc but really, if she is pregnant, it would obviously not be so good for the neighbours of her daughter to be raising her child! Not right in so many ways!!

I had to laugh at that one. I mean it's one thing for a friend to comment that my daughter must want a brother or sister to her face because she's pretending to cry like a baby - but another for an almost stranger to ask me if I'd like to raise her baby?!

Today I feel like we are moving somewhere on this baby quest - going on this programme today obviously helped. And to meet real life adoptive parents certainly helps. It could be us one day - you never know.

Birthdays can be tough

Today is my forty-first birthday. It is a sunny day after a stormy night last night. Spring is in the air and the sky is blue. The weather conditions are perfect - yet my heart is heavy.

Birthdays, Christmas, Mothers Day - these are hard days. It is impossible to ignore the tug of the very present I had hoped for at the very core of my being. For the last few birthdays I have hoped that God might somehow orchestrate a miracle. Yet every birthday I wind up feeling older in the true sense of the word and further away from my dream of another biological child.

I hate that this desire clouds what should be simple pleasures in my life. Like how today no present, no matter how sweet or thoughtful can replace what I really want.

Today my daughter's Kindy are off to the local petting zoo. It will be a nice morning yet I am not looking forward to spending part of my birthday with all The Completed Families that will be there. It is so unfair that once again my SIF grief threatens what should be a lovely outing with my daughter. I didn't have to go either - it's totally up to the parents on whether they choose to come or not. But there is always this background fear that my daughter could be my only one; so I am not missing out on anything! - even if it means having to tolerate groups of MOTs and MOTHs from time to time.

Does the God of my understanding have a sense of humour or what?! As on my way back home from dropping off my daughter at Kindy just now (as I have an hour here before heading back for the petting zoo excursion); my eighteen year old neighbour informed me that she thought she was in labour and asked me to sit with her until her Mum arrived! Thankfully her Mum did arrive just five minutes later. I would have supported her - and have always said I would - but still....My neighbour asked me if I thought she was in labour to which I said you're probably better off asking your Mum. Her Mum said "Oh, because you've just had one". Well, no, the reason I was thinking her Mum would be more knowledgable was because I had an emergency c-section so haven't actually experienced labour!

I truly want to enjoy the rest of my day so hope by having a wee vent this morning I can feel my Higher Powers love today. I want to have hope and faith and to feel abundance in my life. My daughter and I made a chocolate cake last night and decorated it with lollies. We're having a simple family dinner tonight. Then afterwards I have my book club to go to.

I feel obliged to feel on cloud nine because it's my birthday but I don't feel like that at all. I just want to tell someone that "I'm 41 today. I've been going through SIF for almost three years and actually, it sucks. I don't much feel like celebrating."

I've been working the twelve steps around SIF for several months now and am partly through Step Five: Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. When I shared my step four on Monday, I was able to reveal how much I hold back in my SIF grief. I have realised that not being able to share how I truly feel with friends and family has been hugely detrimental to me. So, I am going to attempt to be a little more open with those around me. It's not my problem if they don't understand, feel uncomfortable or don't take my pain seriously. I am not going to be the last woman who goes through SIF - there will be many women to follow. So I think I will be helping others by disclosing as much as I feel comfortable revealing.

Grieving alone

The last week has been a tough one. Without a doubt I got triggered on the SIF front in a chain of events that left me feeling quite deflated. To top it all off: today would have been our second child's second birthday (had the chemical pregnancy Dec '07 lasted). The main reason I remember this date is because it is three days out from my own birthday (yep, I will be 41 on Wednesday). I don't do the "if the baby had made it, it would be such-and-such age" thing purposefully. Somehow the what-might-have-beens creep up on me every now and then.

Today a MOT who I met originally through our antenatal class came into work. She was there with her two kids. Yet her mother is dying and I know things are pretty rough for her right now. I have to remember that MOTs have their own struggles in life. Life is not completely rosey for them just because their families are complete.

Yet, my jealousy prevails. When I am in the midst of my SIF grief, like I have been this last week, I cannot deal with the MOT friends in my life. I really need the emotional space to have the freedom to grieve the way I need to. I feel I have to hold it in (my SIF pain) when around MOT friends. I have to pretend that all the second child milestones they naturally share with me don't break my heart. I have to pretend that I'm happy for them when most of the time I'm not.

So rather than feeling like a total SI b**tch; I distance myself from these friends. This comes at a price, however. It means I end up feeling even more alone in my grief.

I really hate the way SIF has caused such rifts between myself and my friends and family. I hate the way my pain is so intense and deep that it has become part of who I am these days. I almost feel as though I have infertile stamped across my chest. I wish people knew what to do - how to act, what to say. It is so very tiring swinging between holding it together and falling apart. How I wish it was socially acceptable to fall apart because my empty womb is aching. How I wish I could describe my intolerable pain for a second child feels to friends and family in a way they could understand it.

I feel immense pressure to be more sorted out than I am. Thankfully, when I read other people's journals and comments on line in Dailystrength and RESOLVE; I know that I am not alone. I know that my feelings are so very real and normal for someone experiencing SIF. I am not exaggerating my pain.

I know last week was a rough one and pray for lightness and relief this coming week. I sincerely hope I feel more hope as we get closer to the next step in the adoption process.

I don't want to be miserable. I want to be happy and involved in my life - excited about my future and motivated by my dreams and aspirations. At the moment SIF seems to have cast a dark enormous shadow over my being. I look forward to the day when SIF becomes a distant memory.

But for now I have to keep on fighting, holding my head up high as much as possible and not allowing myself to be beaten by the intensity of SIF.

Look who's come for a visit - AF

It's been quite the week of appointments - Monday to the oestopath (about my sore lower back), Wednesday to the Dr (about my abdominal bloating) and today to radiology (a referral from the Dr). Turns out there is no cyst.

First thing this am there was an indication that AF was arriving. After five months of no periods, it is quite the surprise to have AF visit. I suspect that my bloating is hormonal this time round. After five months without a bleed, my body probably doesn't know what's going on.

It has been a tough week. I have been triggered on the SIF front on several occasions: first thinking I might be pregnant with a swollen belly and all, consequently facing a BFN, and then today going in for an ultrasound only to be reminded of my empty womb, one ovary and failing reproductive system. It has not been easy.

I just feel so alone and so tired of trying to get people to understand my SIF pain. The only people who get it of course are the ones also in it - the people I've met on-line through Dailystrength and RESOLVE.

I feel as if I just want to distance myself from pretty much everyone I know when my SIF grief flares up. Afterall, who is going to understand that getting a recent BFN could shatter my world when it's old news that I am infertile? The general feeling out there is - even without spelling it out - shouldn't you be over this already?

Well I'm not people. I'm close to three years of fighting/living/struggling with SIF. THREE YEARS. It does not get any easier. Time is not a healer, in this case.

I can only begin to heal when my family is deemed complete. I don't know why God cannot end this cruelty and just take my desire to have another child away. It would make things so much easier. But no, here I am, hanging in there, feeling like such a tragic fool.

I try so hard to budge my life to move somewhere beyond SIF but to no avail most of the time. Somehow my/our future with another child is all tied up with other areas of our life and so everything is on hold. I cannot bear to be in touch with those who have what I so desperately want when in the throes of my SIF grief. I do not want to hear how sweet life is for them. I cannot face it.

Sometimes, when the SIF pain lessens, and I am able to come out of my SIF cave; I can reconnect briefly, fleetingly with those I love. The trouble is my loved ones often take this to mean that I'm okay, I'm over SIF and I'm ready to be out there in the world again. But I'm not. I'm so not.

A week like today just illustrates how raw the pain of SIF can be. I am in such a catch-22 situation where I want someone to listen to my bleeding heart - but most of all, to understand it. Yet at the same time I don't want anyone to see this ugliness - the desperation, the jealousy, the bitterness, the pain - and the despair.

SIF would have to be one the loneliest things I've experienced in my life - and I've been through stuff. I saw a woman the other day with her family and her head was shaved - probably a cancer victim. I had sympathy for her - her kids were young. Yet I could not help but think what about us IFs and SIFs - nobody can see our suffering. It's invisible - infertility - so most forget or seem to forget that it exists.

I've had enough of this thing taking hold of me. I so look forward to the day when I can look back on SIF and say "That was a hard phase in my life but it's in the past now." Please God, don't let that day be too far away.

As expected - a BFN

I just got back from the Dr. Sure enough I did a pregnancy test first. And I just knew, knew it was going to be a BFN. Yet I feel devastated after getting a BFN as I had allowed myself to dream, to fantasise about being pregnant. I feel like a fool.

I never thought I would ever take another pregnancy test as I thought I had pretty much being written off around TTC again. I hate that I had to take one which was 99.99% likely to be a negative. It feels as though my infertility was flaunted in front of me and I really didn't need to be reminded, thank-you very much.

So I have this swollen belly that looks like pregnancy...I am going in for an ultrasound on Friday to see if there is a cyst in there. My Dr's verdict today was that I have irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). WTF??!! It's caused by stress, she said. And yesterday - when I had the blurred vision, splitting headache and nausea - it was probably a migraine.

For a day or so when I thought I might perhaps be pregnant, I did think how amazing would it be to be off this SIF roller-coaster. In particular to be past all this stress. As no matter how hard I try to "lighten" up - I feel the burden of SIF on my shoulders. It's never far away.

I'm hoping the further we get into the adoption process, the further away SIF falls behind. If and when we get picked as prospective adoptive parents; perhaps I will relax a bit more. But until then we are still waiting, going through the motions of adoption. It's positive but it is a painstakingly slow - well domestic adoption is in this country (NZ), anyway.

I've shed some tears while writing this today. I feel like my morning has been blown to pieces. My precious "me-time" while my daughter is at Kindy is about picking myself up off the floor and dusting myself off. It sucks. I feel angry. Angry at God once again for allowing me to believe what seems to be the impossible. Grrrrr.

Oh well, Friday week is the Education and Preparation Assessment programme (with adoption services). Only ten days to go to that!

Out of touch with my body

One of the side affects of my SIF has been a feeling of no longer understanding or being in tune with my body. I used to know my body so well. Yet for the last two years or more I have been completely and continually baffled by my reproductive system.

This swollen belly is starting to do my head in. I had a bout of slightly blurred vision today, followed by an intense headache and then some pretty bad nausea. Luckily I was able to blob on the couch for a couple of hours watching tele with my daughter.

When the nausea hit I was starting to buy into the possibility that no periods for a while, a swollen stomach and nausea could equate to pregnancy. Hello? In most cases that would make sense wouldn't it. It would all add up. Not with me, I'm afraid.

The blurred vision of today tells me that something else is going on. Before I got pregnant with my daughter I used to have excruitating periods whereupon I would black out. That's kind of how I was feeling today - a similar feeling where I was on the verge of a black-out - without AF present. I never made it into the box for endometriosis many moons ago, but occasionally specialists will ask or have asked along this SIF journey of mine if I have had it.

Anyway, my appointment with the Dr is first thing in the morning. I just want to get the pregnancy test out of the way so whatever else is going on can be figured out.

I hate that I cannot let myself get hopeful really because of the reality - the dark, horrible truth that a pregnancy is so very, very unlikely. It does suck how what should be a dream just feels like one ridiculous fantasy.

I guess I am triggered because I have been doing the "what ifs" these past few days around being pregnant when I thought I had well and truly closed the lid on even thinking that was a possibility. Who knows what's going on with my swollen belly: perhaps it is just a cyst-bump. I have been waiting gingerly for someone to ask the awkward question since I do look a few months pregnant. But luckily those in my Mum's networks gave up looking at my stomach to see if there was a bump a good year or so ago.

What a strange, strange journey this SIF is. Continual unknowingness and confusion. It has been bizarre allowing myself to go there today and to imagine that it (SIF) could all be over. Could it? One more day to find out.