How it Went

Last week was a difficult one for me. I really had no idea what to expect. I was about to meet a man who gave me life, his new wife, and his daughter. I had no idea what was going to be expected of me. I was unsure of what my role was going to be. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be what you expected, and the trip would end with an “I’m glad we met, but there really is no room in my life for you right now.”

Your wife had said that she was impressed that I could get in the car with two strangers and go with what the day handed me. The truth is that I was terrified. I presented a calm exterior despite what was happening on the inside. Perhaps life has jaded me in some ways. I’ve had many, many, many people in my life say wonderful things to me, and then turn around and hurt me more deeply than I ever could have guessed. It was a natural assumption that this too could end up that way. It is one thing to say you are accepting of a twenty-seven year old woman that you really don’t know into your life, and a completely different thing to actually make it work.

That first day was interesting for me. I sat on the end of the couch and attempted to internalize all that was surrounding me. Nothing was familiar, and everything was new. This was the equivalent to walking on a tight rope without a net. I wasn’t myself that day. I was a more timid, quiet, and introverted woman, and I am almost never that way. The day came to a close and I was left ambivalent.

The next few days were a whirlwind for me. I get the days confused, and can’t remember what order they came in. This is what I know for sure. Pardon the list, it’s just a bit easier.

• I felt a lot of anxiety to immediately jump into the role of sister. I’ve never been anybody’s sister before. Compound that with the fact that I’m somebody’s sister who is twenty years younger than me, and I’ve never met her or her family before. It was a tad bit overwhelming.
• I do adore my sister. She’s silly and fun, and some of her behaviors remind me of myself. I too stuck my tongue out a lot, loved to strike a pose for pictures as a child, and enjoyed being with all the grown ups. I’m just not used to being around children so often. I hope I did a good job.
• I truly did not care what the house looked like. I wasn’t saying that just to placate anybody.
• I was beyond frustrated the day my mother and I went shopping. We had dinner plans that night for Red Lobster. We truly did rush our shopping and went home sooner than we would have. When we called for directions, and you canceled our plans; I was pissed as all hell. I could have spit fire. I thought it was inconsiderate to cancel plans at the last minute. I could have used that day to visit my uncle while we were already that way. Then, I could have gotten to see him too while we were there. A bit of a warning would have been nice that the plans were changing. This is not to say that I don’t understand why they were changed. In fact, I understand that circumstances were what they were, and that they could not have been changed. I would have just appreciated more notice.
• I truly felt as if the week’s plans were dictated by everybody but me. I’m simply just not used to that. Then, when plans were made, you were late or cancelled. This is in direct conflict with my personality. I was upset and hurt. I felt as if I wasn’t important enough for you to be on time for, or too insignificant to follow through on plans with. I felt these were rationale thoughts considering I don’t know you, and there was a serious lack of effective communication.
• I truly enjoyed spending time with my sister at Friendly’s, and want to thank you for making that happen.
• I politely request that any further comments regarding God and his plans concerning my reproducing cease. I seriously can’t guarantee that I will continue to be graceful and bite my tongue. I do understand that such comments are meant to be helpful, but they sear a hole in my heart. In essence it is as if somebody is saying that my having a child is based on God’s will, and since I don’t have one, then it isn’t his will. Don’t get me started on that.
• I felt a lot of the time there was spent appeasing others’ fears, and that mine were never addressed. (This is partly my fault.)
• I was extremely grateful to my mom for her care and concern and for contacting you with those concerns. However a part of me was screaming, “If I’m important to him, shouldn’t he want to spend some time with me? Shouldn’t this be his idea?!? Why should we have to tell him that I want time for just the two of us!?! Everybody else has him 365 days a year, and I have missed the past 25 years. I don’t want to make him spend time with me. I want him to want to.” Of course, these thoughts lead me down an emotional tear filled road.
• I enjoyed every minute that we got to spend together. It didn’t matter what we were doing. I was just glad to share the day together.
• Saying good bye to all of you was very difficult.
• I’m still concerned that you will disappear. I’m afraid that if I begin to care about you too much, I will end up hurt when you leave.

I did come up with a few questions:

• What made you decide to try and find me when you tried?
• How do you feel about me?
• Am I what you expected?
• Did you think about me throughout the years?
• Perhaps it would have been difficult to have a relationship while I was growing up, but why didn’t you at least write a letter or letters? (Even if you never mailed them, you could have saved them for a day like last week.)
• Why did you never try to see me after the visit when I was little?

So far, that’s how reunion has felt. I’m glad I did it. I do want a relationship with him. I’m just afraid to place to much stock in it just yet. I guess you can say I’m protecting my heart.

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Published in: on March 21, 2007 at 6:59 am  Comments (6)  

Nervous

This post could have been labled, Exhausted, Nervous, Excited, and Scared Woman Wondering What the Hell 2007 is Going to Bring Into Her Already Crazy World. It just wouldn’t fit.

I find myself reluctant to do the by then game with adoption, as I did with infertility. I hate to say we should have a child by the next Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, etc. I so desperately want to be able to say with certainty that by then, things will be as I want them to be.

I’ve been watching my husband with renewed interest lately. I watch him play with our neighbor’s daughter, and I get misty. I watch him put together our future children’s toys, and I just know that I’m falling in love with him all over again. I know this journey will be difficult, but my heart is so full. Full of hope, love, and excitement. Ok, with a little fear and humility mixed in.

Published in: on January 1, 2007 at 12:54 am  Comments (3)  

Not What I Expected

I walked into my parent’s house yesterday, and said, “Mom, I think I want to have a baby shower.”

She replied, “Um, you’re not pregnant.”

(No shit, and thanks for the reminder.)

Again she replied, “I’ve never heard of anybody doing that. At least not that I’m aware of.”

Me, “They do, and it is acceptible, and a great way to welcome the baby into the family.”

Her, “Well, don’t expect any support from the family.”

(What the hell is this all about?!? My grandmother is excited. I haven’t discussed it with others. However they live far away, and it’s not their decision.)

The convesation boiled down to me being upset, and feeling that she didn’t support me in my pursuit of adoption. Allow me to clarify, she’s understanding and excited as long as the child fits her criteria. Cucasion newborn. Um, yeah. Most likely not going to happen. She was the first and only person not excited about the idea. It was definitely a bummer. We’re close, and her support means a lot to me.

How long will it taker her to warm up to the idea of adoption? She says she is supportive, and tells everybody that. However, these off handed comments, lead me to believe otherwise.

Published in: on December 23, 2006 at 9:07 pm  Comments (5)  

An Old Friend

I talked to an old friend on the phone yesterday. She’s the kind who will let you bear your soul. So, I did. I guess it is what I really needed to do. I told her how I thought I had changed, mentally, physically, and emotionally. How I felt about my body and the world around me. We discussed where I was going from here. We talked about marriage, and infertility’s toll. When all was done, we had laughed and cried together. She described what it is like to be an outsider watching a friend go through infertility,

“It’s like standing underneath a giant waterfall. So much coming down on you at once, and you can barely comprehend the force. Yet, when you have time to step back, take a look again from a distance, you begin to understand it.”

I can see what she means. I’ve had time to analyze all of this, and she gets the condensed versions. I love her for being such a wonderful person, and for trying to understand.

In other news, I’m just plain exhausted from the push pull of adoption and infertility. My parents want us to keep riding the infertility roller coaster of treatment. My husband’s want us to move on to adoption. I’m with my husband’s parents, but have to live eight miles from my own. My mother hasn’t been playing fairly either. She pushes emotional buttons that she believes will make me do what she wants me to do. Standing up to her has never been easy for me, largely due to the fact that we are very close friends as well. So, when comments like, “You’re not giving up are you!” come to rise. I squirm, and reply, “No, Mom, just moving on.” So, now I am going to go and take some more M.otrin and try to remember that this too will pass.

Published in: on December 19, 2006 at 9:24 pm  Comments (2)  

100% Not Pregnant

Don’t you hate when you wake up knowing that today’s the day where your pregnancy test will be accurate, and you do the obligatory check for your period. While you stand there ready to pick up either the pregnancy test or the tampon, your heart knows what you crave. However, I had to grab for the box of tampons. I knew last night. I had started spotting.

This month we spent over $1,000 in our quest to become parents. Wow, just plain wow. I could have gone on vacation, and improved my marriage. We all know unsexy infertility is. Whether it is male or female factor, it’s added baggage. Since being diagnosed with infertility, I have never felt uglier. It’s more than the added weight from the fertility meds. It’s something about my womanhood. I’m not sure if I can put my finger on it. Why on Earth should not being able to bear a child make me feel less womanly, less sexy, less attractive all around? How do I get that back?

I miss the me, from the beginning of last summer. The woman who was sipping her cocktail pool side. I miss the me of two years ago, visiting museums and hiking in the mountains. I miss me prior to all of this.

Published in: on December 18, 2006 at 7:59 pm  Comments (6)