We Got the White Stuff

Just for the record, I am sick to death of the white stuff.

We have had more snow than I can ever remember in my whole life. In fact, we had the largest accumulation ever seen in my lifetime this year. It was really exciting.... for the first two days.

First there was the white Christmas, then the really huge snow that kept us out of school for an entire week. After that, three more snow days thanks to the cold white slippery stuff. Now, I know what you are thinking. If I work in an elementary school, shouldn't I be loving the whole snow day thing? I mean, I get out of school for the day, to curl up with cocoa and my algebra homework while Hubby toils away down the hall in his office. What could be better right?

Initially, this was true. I've had a really rough school year. I haven't enjoyed my job very much this year which is very disturbing for me. I'm working my buns off for a degree doing something I truly love. To loathe going to work each day is a serious challenge right now, however I know that it is merely the circumstance I am in right now and not my passion for what I do. Unfortunately, this makes going to work even harder.

Truth be told, since Christmas, I have cried at least once a week before going to work in the mornings (ok so two or three times a week).

Are you seeing where this is going? It took me weeks...

Not only did work cause problems, but the mere thought of delving head first into another brain-cramming semester made my heart race. I was a horrible person to be around the week before Christmas break ended. I was a miserable, anxious, weepy mess. One year earlier I was cherishing precious, but fearful final moments with my granfather amidst two jobs, and a full time college semester. That anxiety came back with every fluttering flake of snow.

School started, then college, then the snow. The more time off I had, the more I dreaded a day away from home. Honestly, I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers in my warm cozy bed and never leave home. I couldn't sleep, but I was exhausted all the time. My cycle even got out of whack.

A couple of weeks ago, with more snow in the forecast, my anxiety hit an all time high. Hubby was so sweet. He stayed up until nearly two in the morning because I was simply terrified. Of everything! I worried that I might crash into someone on the half mile drive to work. I worried that Hubby would die in the middle of the night and leave me alone. I worried that my math homework submission didn't go through. I worried that someone would come over before I had a chance to do the dishes. It was a nightmare... without the sleep.

That night, I finally drummed up the courage and announced to Hubby that I was taking a sick day and I was going to the doctor. He reluctantly agreed. I've managed to be off medication for 8 years.

I can't lie. The feeling of defeat was immense. I really struggled, and I still do, with the fact that I couldn't find a way to make it on my own. I feel like I let Hubby and my family down. I've always been the one everyone relied on and now I'm broken. What would they do? I also feel like I let our future children down. There's no way we can take on the stress of adoption right now, and what if they don't let us adopt because I can't handle life? It's frustrating to say the least and only adds to the anxiety I am working so hard to get rid of.

I'm almost two weeks into the medicine. I'm on a really low dose for now. I can feel it starting to help, which is a huge relief. I can finally breathe sometimes without an elephant sitting on my chest. I still have bad days. In fact right now I count life in moments and I have frequent bad moments, but things are getting better. Despite all of the feelings of defeat and failure, I wish I had done this months ago. I should have asked for help when I first realized things were going to be bad.

I'm biding my time right now. I savor every moment of sunshine. I work hard to make myself find a positive note for each day. I'm trudging one slow step at a time through the thick mud of winter. I'm working hard to wish away the white stuff and bring on the green stuff. Spring, you couldn't come any sooner!

Pray for Noah

I know I haven't posted in months. School is unbelievably hard right now and a few things have taken priority unfortunately with any additional spare time. I miss you all. Hopefully, I can squeeze in my posting time from now on....

I need your help!

I don't remember if I wrote about this or not, but the girl that I run the nursery with at church was pregnant. A couple of months before her due date the doctors found an upper hernia in the baby. I don't know the technical or medical terms, but basically his organs had slipped up through a hole in his abdominal cavity and were crowding out his lungs and his heart. They gave him 0% survival chance.

Of course this would be devastating for any one, but she has already had a similar experience. She has a teenage daughter and a few years ago she ended up pregnant. Six weeks before the baby was due it died and they had her carry it until she went into labor.

I watched her work hard not to bond with this baby throughout her pregnancy. Just as her guard started to fall and she started to openly talk about the baby and even name him, she found out he was sick. When this happened you could see her resolve harden. Then she saw another specialist.

The specialist told her it was a grave situation but that he thought they had a 50/50 shot. They would do everything humanly possible for this little fella. We've been praying endlessly since.

He was born just before Thanksgiving. Things seemed okay at first. They did surgery though and were unable to separate his one good lung from his liver. It keeps him from being able to breathe on his own. He's been on a ventilator so he can grow and get stronger since then.

Not once has his mother come home. She's been by his side every step of the way. I can't imagine.

This week Noah took a turn for the worse. He has developed a lung infection from what I understand and they moved him to an oscillator hoping that would help. They had to sedate him because just touching him would send his numbers pin balling. This afternoon they updated us to say he is now on an ECMO (a lung, heart bypass machine). I'm not sure what their plans are, but they could use every prayer possible!

I can't bear the thought of her losing another baby. It is terrible to think that she has had this long to fall in love with this baby, aching for the moment she could hold him and take him home, only to lose him. If ever there was a group of women to understand where she is right now it's all of you!

I've not gotten a chance to see this little guy in person, but I have visited several times. She brings me out pictures on her cell phone every time so we can see how much he's grown. I just love him. He is such a beautiful baby. I pray that he can overcome this stumbling block and come home soon!

Happy Birthday

For the first time in months I finally have an opportunity to spend some time curled up on the couch in front of the Christmas tree. Every year I look forward to this moment. It is the first snow of the year. School is cancelled and I can stay up late in the silent peacefulness of winter. With my schedule what it is, it is very difficult to find any time to do this, so when I do, I cherish and treasure every second. Tonight is no different.

I actually hate winter. I dread it with a growing anxiety every single year. As the days grow shorter, my sadness grows stronger and I fight to muddle through until the sunny green days of March. Usually I am already struggling by this time of year and I really try to embrace Christmas and the holidays to help propel me through to spring. This year, I am surprised to find that the sadness has been replaced with a quiet melancholy that only rears its head in those precious quiet moments I try to steal here and there.

I try to allow myself this. I think I need those reflective moments alone in my head to acknowledge the feelings I try so hard to put away all year. Christmas is especially hard for infertiles. I know Hubby and I have struggled quite a bit in years past over simple tasks like putting up the Christmas tree. This year there is hope. I did not hesitate to put our tree up. I wanted to embrace the hope and the happiness I had. We are in our new place, and even though our child is only a wish and a dream in our hearts, I feel content and happy.

This year my melancholy lies in memories where it should be rather than in the fear of an empty future. As the snow swirled furiously to the ground tonight I remembered the last snow we had in our small town. Hubby and I drove cautiously through the town snapping pictures to take back to my grandfather. For reasons unknown to myself, I felt it was my top priority to find a way to show my grandfather the beautiful snow that blanketed the ground. I brought the camera back to him and slowly scanned through picture after picture. It was the last real moments we shared together. He struggled to talk, but he nodded his head and smiled as the dazzling snow flashed across the screen.

I can't look at those pictures yet. He was sick for so many years and our family, without ever saying anything out loud to one another, worked hard to make sure that each Christmas was special and meaningful, especially as it became clear that our time with him was drawing to an end. I miss him so much tonight. His birthday was yesterday. I felt his absence deeply, but I am so thankful that he no longer has to suffer like he did. I know our time was spent cherishing every moment and I am so thankful for those moments now.

Tonight I will smile at the memories we had, I may cry a few tears, and then I will look forward. Hubby and I have so much to look forward to this year. In the next few days we plan to contact someone about adopting a child and hopefully this can be the last year we spend as two. I will admit, the anticipation of another year without tiny footprints running through our home is the main source of most of my holiday sadness, but for the first year I feel like I might actually have a little bit of Christmas for myself.

Hope...Finally!

For the past eight years I have danced around with hope, chatted noncommitally, we even went out for coffee a couple of times, but never have I dared to invite hope into my home and especially into my heart when it came to Hubby and I ever having a child of our own.

This past week our lives took a dramatic shift.

It started with our intense determination to move into a larger apartment with our own washer and dryer. Both of us were fed up with lugging our laundry down to the laundry room every week and we were feeling a bit cramped and frustrated in our tiny one bedroom.

Within moments of handing over our deposit on a beautiful new home (that we will spend the holidays moving in to yay!) the thought occurred to both of us that we now had the space for a child without the child. This is the very reason we never moved from our one bedroom. We both sadly shrugged and my wheels started turning (Prayers also began flooding out of my heart).

After many conversations, a visit through some wonderful websites, an amazing book, and those said prayers, a miracle happened and we have both agreed that it was time to start down the path to bring our child home. Our journey I believe will not be typical, but few journeys are.

I am excited, overjoyed, anxious, hopeful, and scared to death! We are only just beginning our journey, but I can't wait to have things to share as the months progress. I need all of the advice I can get. We are hoping to adopt through the foster system. As it stands right now, we are looking at a school aged child. I would like to hear from anyone who has knowledge of this process.

Up to this point we have always considered international adoption and we focused our information gathering on there. As it is, we are a bit clueless....

And we couldn't be more excited!

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.

Why?

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.

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.

Reaching out

I have a really hard time with friendships. I've had things happen in my past that make it difficult for me to allow anyone into my world. I didn't realize until recently how much I hold back with the friends that I have now. A lot of it has to do with my past, but there is a significant portion of my discomfort with other people that originates with infertility.

I have a hard time making new friends because most of the people I know already have kids and there is just no common ground with them. It hurts a lot to hear them talk about having something I want so badly too. I was never a real eager friend getter, but now I actually find myself sabotaging potential friendships just to avoid the heartache.

I hate that I do this. I really try to push outside of my comfort zone and reach out, but I just can't. I miss having a really close friend to share my true secrets with. I feel isolated sometimes and lonely, like something is missing.

Today I got really brave. I called an old friend of mine. We were really close. Some things happened and I pushed away from her completely a few years ago, but I miss her terribly. She always understood me before, better than anyone. I could tell her stuff I can't even tell my husband because she just gets it, how my crazy mind works. We met at the park today and talked. She invited me to her house, but I wanted a neutral place where I could feel safe. It was great! There was no awkward silence or discomfort between us. I felt like I always have with her. I could tell her anything and she did the same.

We talked for about two hours and I felt as if someone had lifted a huge weight from my chest afterwards. I finally felt free from some of the crazy thoughts I store up because most people would consider me insane if they knew half the stuff I over-rationalize and internalize. It took a lot of courage to call her up, but it was worth it and I know it won't be the last time.

I'm sad that I can't open up with the other people I call my friends and I am going to try to work on that a bit, but for now I'm just happy for small steps. Never underestimate the power of a friendship!