Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Are we trying?

I get this question a lot lately. I'm not sure when it became the business of my entire workplace, our church, friends, etc, but apparently it has.

I understand that they are just trying to care. They have (in most cases) a genuine concern for Hubby and I, but it rubs me the wrong way most of the time. I usually just smile, shrug, and go about my way without any real answer, but deep down I'm always rattled. Sometimes that question eats at me the rest of the day.


Well, truth is, I don't know the answer. I really don't want to be honest with myself either way. We are currently in limbo right now and I'm too scared to do anything about it. There have been a couple of times that I have reached out to grab the phone and call the doc, but I never do it. I make excuses and go out of my way to avoid thinking about the next step. I know at some point we will have to work on that, but I just can't.

Every time I think about opening the closet where I keep all of the horrible facts of my infertility tucked out of sight, I get physically ill. My heart starts to race, my palms get all sweaty, and I feel like I can't breathe. I get an overwhelming urge to throw up. I like being in limbo. There are possibilities and no certainties all at the same time. No one can say I can't, although no one will ever tell me I will.

Most of the people closest to me, even my family, think that it's all because of the provera. I tell them we can't think about anything right now because I'm on provera to keep the evil cancer cells away. Every time I say that I hear the words of my doc echo in my ear, "Call me the moment you become pregnant. It is a very real possibility now." My doubt usually laughs when this happens and I shake my head and move on.

In my own mind I have moved on to adoption. I just skirt over the entire issue with a whole new solution. Still, I keep up with my cycle and I get antsy after every refill of provera. I question when my body gets out of sorts and I cling to the tiniest shred of hope sometimes.

So am I trying? Well I guess the answer is I'm not not trying.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Today I Am Missing You

My Dear Sweet Baby,

Today my heart aches to be near you. I have never felt your chubby fingers grasp my own. I have never gotten the chance to breathe in your sweet smell as I kiss the top of your soft head. I've never snuggled you close or rocked you to sleep. My heart does not yet know the melody of your laughter or the pain of your tears. Someday we will share all of these things. Someday I will look deep into your eyes and we will both somehow know of the journey it took for us to be together.

I long for that day. I wait patiently, desperately. I pray fervently for that day to come soon. There are days that my pain is unbearable. The emptiness I feel that only your giggles will heal overwhelms me. Some nights I awake to my own outstretched arms, reaching out to you, but never touching you.

I know our eyes have never met on this earth, our hands have never touched, but today I miss you as if we had been together for an eternity and suddenly you were gone.