My new (proverbial) take on this process...we'll see how long it lasts.

I cried because I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet.

I'm actually in a good mood today. I have a lot of love in my life, and I'm going to try very hard not to take if for granted. I think my husband and I have a wonderful relationship, and we are very truly happy together. For the moment, I'm appreciating that happiness and love, and I know that we'll have a baby sometime soon. In the meantime, Mike and I were sitting in bed this morning at 11 drinking coffee and watching funny movies...that's not a bad life.

Time to appreciate my feet.

Strike Seven

This is starting to feel increasingly hopeless...and if one more person who knows what's going on says either "If you stop trying, it will happen" or "It's just God's plan" I will throw the hissiest hissy fit anyone has ever seen.

Comment A-Please tell me how to stop trying for the thing I want more than anything in the world. Please tell me how to forget what I want so that I don't go crazy for weeks on end paying attention to every infinitesimal tweak and twinge within my body, wondering if it's working the way it's supposed to.

Comment B-It doesn't make me feel any better to think of a supposedly benevolent deity forcing all of this heartache. But hey, thanks for imposing your religious viewpoints on me...that was really what was missing from my life.

Drawing the line

There comes a point between testing way too early and getting close to my period at which I start becoming exceedingly pessimistic.  I feel like that line is very thin.  One day I'm feeling OK because it's still early, and the next day I've lost hope because I should have seen something by now. 

The first time I got pregnant, I didn't test until five days after my expected period.  That's what you get when it's a total and complete surprise.  The nice thing about it was that there was no guessing.  I looked, and I saw two equally dark and clear lines. 

If I had self control, I'd wait until after my period is supposed to come to test...then I wouldn't have to draw the thin line between blind optimism and complete and total pessimism.

Why is God mad at me?

So, my sister got married this weekend.  I was already somewhat upset about Mother's Day, but I was looking forward to using my photography addiction for good (for once).

So then we get there, and one of my sister's friends brought her three week old baby.  Do the math.  My baby would have been three weeks old, had the miscarriage not happened.  OK, so that sucks. 

I was doing OK for the most part...photography is my new coping mechanism...but it was lurking.  It wasn't so much just that it was a baby, though I haven't been doing well with infants recently.  It was that it was a baby who was the same age that my child would have been--at MY family's wedding--being present for something that's a big deal for my family--bringing happiness that I don't have..  It's hard to explain.

I got a little teary just ONCE for about 30 seconds, and I hid it as best I could.  I didn't want people to know.  Sad looks and talking about it is just too hard for me.  I hate pity.  A lot.  Unfortunately, my mom noticed.  This made her upset.  Then my family noticed that she was upset.  So they asked her why.  She told them.  I then kept hearing whispers and getting pity looks and getting HUGS, for crying out loud, from a woman I hadn't even met before!  It was then close to impossible for me to feel in control.

I'm emotionally exhausted.

I also ended up sitting between two infants on the plane ride home...on Mother's Day...

So, really, what did I do to annoy God?  I know we don't get more than we can handle...but I think I'm getting a little too close!

My addiction is back in full force...

My POAS addiction is rearing its ugly head.  I only ordered five tests at the start of this month, because I promised myself that I was going to be a good, patient little girl...and I went through those tests within 7 days of ovulation and then ordered ten more.  It's a really good thing they only cost about $1 each...though I did buy a few of the First Response tests for just in case for later.  While the cheap internet versions satisfy my need to test, I don't know that I would actually trust the results.  I should probably stop and think about the futility of the process, considering this, but I choose not to.

Staying positive is hard...

We're currently on our sixth cycle of actively trying to concieve.  With each passing cycle it's harder and harder not to get my hopes up, and it's also harder and harder to deal with the disappointment. 

I just realized for the first time last night exactly how jaded my poor husband is becoming about the whole process.  Ever since the miscarriage, I've had a hard time dealing with my emotions related to this process, children, pregnancies, etc.  There has not been one single day that has gone by in the last seven months that I haven't felt emotional upheaval and/or pain as a result of something seemingly insignificant to everyone else.  My husband has been very good and strong in dealing with me and his own emotions, but the more months that go by with no luck, the harder it is becoming for him to put on a strong face for me.

I don't slide as badly into darkness as I did for the first month or so after it happened, but I'm still reminded more frequently than people can imagine or what exactly it is that I've lost.  When I see a pregnant woman...a child with his or her parents...a car seat in a grocery cart...baby clothes at Target...the calendar reminding me that I should have a baby in my arms right now...my former guest room, currently a cheery yellow with cartoonish animals in preparation for the baby that doesn't exist anymore...a commercial for Disney World...

It's really quite difficult to stay positive and upbeat about trying to have a baby when I feel so weighted down still with what SHOULD have been. 

I do have one thing to be thankful for...many people on grief and loss message boards write about how one pregnancy doesn't replace another and how one healthy child doesn't erase the loss of the other who was lost.  I believe, however, that the spirit and soul of the child I carried is the spirit and soul of the child I'm meant to have. When I lost that child, that spirit and soul went somewhere safe, and it's waiting to be provided a new home. I truly believe that, when we do finally have a child (I force myself to write "when" and not "if"),  the child I'm meant to have will come back to me....I have to believe this for my sanity.

I probably wouldn't have either...

So, tonight my family celebrated Mother's Day, a week early.  The reason for this is that my sister is getting married in Texas next Saturday, so most of us will be in airports and cars and such on Sunday. 

There was a part of me, a much bigger part than I realized, that fully expected ONE of my family members to acknowledge that I was a mother this year.  Unfortunately there is no card for mothers of angel babies (again, that's what they call it in miscarriage land).  It was hard. 

I know that it's more than likely that they just don't see what happened to me as a piece of motherhood.  The difficult part is, since I DO see myself that way, their lack of acknowledgement feels somehow like a personal slight.  I know it's not, and I know that, if I said something, they would be very supportive.  The problem with that is, if I said something, the point is lost.  I wanted someone to see me as I see myself...as a mother of a child that didn't get a chance to live.  If they don't see me that way, them acknowledging me for being a mother because I said something feels more like it's being patronizing than that they really see me the way I see myself. 

Mike thinks it's because they don't want to risk upsetting me.  That's a sweet thing to say, but I don't believe him.  Yeah, it would upset me, and yeah, I would cry...but I want to have the opportunity to feel those emotions, rather than hiding the hurt I feel behind a camera...since photography of events like that has become my coping mechanism.