Tuesday, May 19, 2009

And a cherry on top!

If by cherry you mean a gush of blood, and by top you mean my toe. I stepped on a sewing pin while barefoot (happens quite often cause I am a moron). Ow! When I went to check and see if it was still stuck I say that only about 1 cm of pin was still showing...because it had gone all the way through my toe!!!! EFFING EFF OF AN EFF OOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!! Yup, in a true manifestation of how my life is going these days, I skewered my toe like a tasty shish kabob of pain. FAIL.

Oh, and my car is dead again. Double FAIL.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The universe just hates me, doesn't it?

I have been delaying for a bit, but I guess I should post about my oh-so-delightful Mothers Day (heretofore known as Barren Reminder Day). Here's basically how it went down.

I opted to not attend church. I know, I should have sucked it up and just gone, but I didn't and I think it was for the best. Much as I want to have to dash out before they say "Would all the women 18 and over please stand." And much as I would love to hear endlessly about the miracle that is motherhood and the token, "But everyone can be a mother, even without children." I just thought it would be better to spend the time with the ones I love. I went on a hike/picnic with The Boy and our spazzy dogs and it was lovely. We practiced our Mandarin (Are the dogs American? A little. Would they like something to drink? Yes.) and talked about how someday we'd be able to come do this with our little girl. We speculated about what she would be like and how, somehow, it would all be worth it. If not for this, I don't think I would have been able to go to my parents house and be around my sister's new baby.

I was all relaxed and prepared to deal with it. After all, there will be plenty of people around to hold the kid, so I wont have to. I can show my mom the awesome book The Boy got us on basic Chinese characters (she speaks some Japanese and loves to see the similarities). As our therapist said, "What's the worst thing that can happen? You cry? So what...they know what's going on and will understand, and if they don't understand then screw them." (Yes, he did say that, he is magical as well). I would get through it. Oh how naive I was.

Upon arriving at my parents, my mom asks me if I got her message. Crap. No. What's going on? Apparently, a relative of mine has invited herself to dinner. no big deal, right? Dead wrong. This relative is the same one who said I was too pretty to adopt. She is notorious about saying horrible things (hence why her kids didn't want to do something with her) and she doesn't know we have even been trying to have a kid, let alone the whole story. Hoo boy, this should be interesting.

One by one, family members arrived. My SIL and I chatted a bit about things (she is incredibly supportive of us and actually shows an interest in our plans). The new baby arrived in all pomp and glory, encircled about in layers upon layers of pink, lest we forget that this is the first female grandchild. The horribly, overbearingly, powerfully spermed proud father informed everyone that if we wanted to touch the delicate flower of his loins, we would have to immerse ourselves in antibacterial gel, lest our lowly human germs disturb his heavenly creation.

Dinner was served and my relative proceeded to talk about the many injuries her kids have caused her, and how they don't love her, and how she's basically childless and she hates Mothers Day. Then she wondered why her co-worker, who had just adopted a baby, didn't appreciate the "joke" she made in telling him he had just "bought" a kid. Can't imagine why that didn't make him chuckle. Lord, beer me patience. At least it would be better after dinner, right? Sure.

Unfortunately, my new meds are not helping the pain, in fact, they are increasing it by quite a lot. Near the end of the meal, I had to ask The Boy to help me away from the table so I could lay down. My plan of making it to a spare room failed, since I about passed out trying to stand up and only made it as far as a nearby couch. I lay there trying to control my breathing and not scream, all the while my relative is sitting not ten feet from me, holding the golden one and going on and on to my sister about how she can't believe how beautiful she is, and how is such a miracle she has carried inside her, and how she must be so happy to have been able to create such a wondrous creature in her womb. If I was about to scream before, I am near to pulling the house down on myself and everyone else a la Sampson-style.

Finally, the pain subsides enough for my to put it back in it's little jar, and act like nothing is wrong. Then, my relative says the following: "You know, I would be a surrogate for you, if that is what you guys needed." No. You. Did. Not. Just. Say. That. Oh, but she did. My response? "No thanks. I don't know where your uterus has been." She was shocked that I would say something so rude, and didn't bug me about my lack of offspring for the rest of the night. Win.

It wasn't the worst day of my life, but it sucked. I thought about it alot, and I think I understand why it was so crappy (besides the obvious). Not only did I have to be around a new baby while we are having to wait so long to even start the process, but I couldn't even act like anything was wrong. I couldn't cry, because then someone who has NO business in my personal life, would find out and blab around to everyone she sees that I am barren and bitter and it's just so tragic cause I would make such beautiful babies. I had to put on my best don't-like-kids act so that I didn't have to give any indication that just being around this perfect newborn was enough to shatter every ounce of strength I had stored up. I had to lie through my teeth to everyone around me, while all but one knew what a lie it was. But hey, at least she didn't have to sit at home and wonder why none of her kids wanted to have her over for dinner.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Yeah...I figured this would happen.

So I have managed to pull myself out of my pity party for a few minutes. Not for too long, mind you...after all, we have a clown and cake! Just thought I would update on the current situation and post something that drives me absolutely crazy.

I am doing better than the other day. I spent yesterday pampering my precious hair (deep treatment+ freshening up the color+ discovering awesome new products =much better outlook on life), working from home, and watching movies that amuse me. The Boy gave me a huge hug when he came home and made sure I was ok before taking the mutts out for a run.

Random tangent about hair: My hair is something that has come to represent my infertility to me. I decided about 6 months into TTC that I wouldn't cut my hair until I got pregnant. It was previously quite short, and is now past my shoulders. For a while I would get a bit sad every time someone commented on how long it was getting. "Don't I know it!" thought I. But now that I know I will not get pregnant, my hair being longer should make me more depressed, right? Actually, it doesn't. I learned how to take better care of it, let it do what it wants to (I am quite curly and would flat iron my hair everyday...now I let it be wild and big), and embrace every centimeter gained. Rather than my hair representing my failure to conceive, it has now come to represent the journey in becoming ok with who I am. I may not like what I've been given, but it makes me who I am. When someone comments that my hair is nice I take it, not as a reminder of my infertility, but as a compliment that being myself, imperfections and all, is what is truly beautiful. I plan on letting it grow until we have our daughter in our arms (we'll see if that happens) and now each millimeter is us getting that much closer to having our family together. I'm oddly sentimental about strange things, I know. (I wore a jade necklace to the adoption orientation so that if I started feeling pressured about adopting through them, I knew I already had a daughter waiting for us. I know. Could I be more cheesy?)

Anyway, enough about my awesome hair. Here is what pisses me off. I knew this would happen, but I hoped to be wrong. My sister has a kid from a previous relationship and her husband has typically been good with him. They insist on the boy calling him "Dad" which I don't like, but it's not for me to decide. I was very worried that once the little girl was born, the boy would be put on the back shelf and treated differently because, after all, this is his child now. I hoped to be wrong, but I'm afraid it currently looks to be going that way.

Exhibit A- I understand my parents watching little boy (now referred to as LB, for convenience sake) while sis is giving birth and dude wants to be there with him. I will even give him one more night at the hospital, but that is where it ceases to be necessary to me. If this were a first child for them both, I would say stay the whole dang time if you must, but it's not. There is a little boy staying with his grandparents, wondering why his dad wants to be with his little sister more than him. When my mom politely asked when Dude was coming to get LB (since no one had even officially asked her to watch him) he said, "Oh, I was just planning on staying at the hospital the whole time."
Exhibit B- Dude continually asking LB if he likes his sister, insisting that LB gush about how beautiful she is and how perfect she is. Never mind what happened at school with LB. Never mind that he misses his parents and wants to know when they are coming home to take care of him.

The whole situation just pisses me off. Either your his dad or not. Either you treat them equally, or you don't get to be his dad, you are just Dude. My sweet nephew is already feeling the inequality of feeling like a placeholder until a person's "real" child is born. This is why I refuse to adopt "in the mean time" while we wait for China. I will not have any child feel less special, less wanted, less chosen, and less loved, and if that means we wait 5 years and only have one child ever, then that's how it will be. But what do I know, I don't have any kids.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The worst day since yesterday.

I'm just going to say this from the get go: Anyone who has decided that my feelings about my sister's baby makes me a horrible person who deserves every shriveled little infertile egg I get, awesome. You are allowed to feel that way. You are also allowed to not read something that makes you all butthurt.

Now, for the eventful day. I received a text at 5:30 am saying "Looks like I'm off to have a baby!:)" to which I say to myself, "Looks I'm off to have a bowl of Prozac!:)" To her I say good luck and such, cause I'm not a completely heartless person.

"But wait!" says you, "I mean, that kind of sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world, right?" I suppose not, but the oh so tender irony is this, we were scheduled to attend an adoption orientation meeting today with our local agency. It's like someone has just told me they are going and eating a giant slice of delicious cake, while I will be going to a cooking class that will teach me about how 5 or so years from now, if all goes well, I too may be able to have a piece of my own. Weird analogy, I know, but I am exhausted. Here's why...

Two blocks from the office, my car takes a lesson from my ovaries and shuts the hell down (ovaries, however do not take a reciprocal lesson in shutting the hell up). Luckily, after waiting for about 5 minutes in the middle of the road, someone decides to help me push the red demon into a metered parking stall. Luckily, The Boy is driving separately and can pick me up.

I scrounge around for change to feed the meter, and between the two of us, we get 1 hour and 33 minutes. The orientation is 1 1/2 hours. It was fine, but I was so disconnected that I don't think anything really made its way into my cluttered mind.

We leave the meeting early and miss out on another couples hypothetical questions that are starting to sound like some calculus exam I failed (If birthmom 1 is on a train in Philadelphia, and the adoptive couple are both allergic to tomatoes, exactly how long until the girl sitting next to me goes crazy and smacks us all silly?). I make it back to the car with 3 minutes left. Well done me!

After putting in 2 quarts of oil and jumping the car, we have reached the limits of our knowledge and still I am stuck about 15 miles from home, in a metered spot, with much to get done at home. I call my dad, who happens to be a pretty good mechanic and the conversation goes a little something like this:

-Hi dad, my car is dead, any chance you could come take a look at it?
-Oh hi! I'm just at the hospital. Did you hear that your sister is having her baby?
-Yeah, a few times now.
-You should come say hi!
-Uh...no thanks. Um...how long do you think you're going to be there?
-Well she's fully dilated. Do you want me to come look now?
-No, you can stay there. I'm just kind of stuck and don't have money to pay the meter and I have no idea what's wrong with my car. You can just come when you're done there.
-*Sigh*...no, I'll come.

I promise, I told him to stay several times, but he was kind enough to come help. Long boring car story short, 2 1/2 hours later it looks like it's probably the fuel filter. We manage to tow the car to the parking lot of his office by 4:50. Oh, during the car fiasco I get a text that is a picture of the kid. How much do I hate this? 47 hate units.

Did I mention that I hadn't eaten anything since about 8 am? The Boy picks me up at quarter after 5 after my dad volunteered to drive me to the hospital to see the kid. I flat out told him I was not going to visit either of them in the hospital. He still doesn't get it.

Which brings us to now. I took my very disheveled self to the dog park with The Boy and my two awesome doggies and had a good time. I came home and made some tasty dinner, and now I am off to soak in a hot tub until this migraine decides to die a terrible death. Happy birthday L, sorry your party sucks.

So lets hear it. How horrible am I to not be all butterfly rainbow magic sparkles about the wonder that is new life?

Sister is in hospital

She's having her baby today. Shit.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

What is there to say, really?

I'm afraid that the upcoming holiday has sent me into a rather annoying depression. Not to worry, the razor blades are still kept out of reach, I'm just having a really hard time this week.

While talking to my Dad this weekend he said, "So this Mothers Day should be easier for you than last years, right?" Not so much. Last year, we had been trying unsuccessfully to get me knocked up for only 5 or so months. Long-ish for impatient people like myself, but not an alarmingly huge wait. This year? Well allow me to be all Type A for a moment about this year.

-We have a plan and know we are adopting through China

-Unless China decides to read this blog, get all swollen-hearted a la The Grinch, and change it's age requirements and/or wait time, we have another 5 years until we have a child in our house.
-This year we know that my getting pregnant just isn't going to happen.
-My sister is due to pop at any given moment and her husband is sure to make some huge deal about it since his sperm apparently can cure cancer or something.
-People just don't know how to react to adoption news. When someone is visibly pregnant, it's easy for people to coo over it and ask a ton of questions about the mom-to-be. With adoption, unless you are going to pick up the kid, people are just kind of "Meh" about it. I'm sure it's mostly just from a lack of knowledge about the process, but it still sucks to feel excited about something that no one you care about asks anything about.
-Mandarin is hard. I know, alert the media. I have good days and bad, but I think China needs to settle down a bit and use less words. Seriously.*
-Horrible death pains are still here. Side affects are still here (and they brought hot flashes with them, YAY!). New pains have decided to come join the party. My abdomen is like a constant game of Crossfire, complete with red lights and fog machine.
-Did I mention my sister is about to have a kid? A newborn...Mothers Day...me rather empty-handed...I think you see where I'm going with this.

I know, I know. An infertile's blog about how Mothers Day sucks? How totally unique! Here's the thing. I don't begrudge the mothers around me their joy in the magical little insta-bake oven that is their uterus (mostly...some of them could get a raging case of scabies and I wouldn't care so much). I am, in fact, excited about adopting, as well as not having to deal with crappy pregnancy things. The fact is that Mothers Day is hard for us barren girls, much like Valentines Day sucks for the single. The adoption factor only makes me feel like more of an outcast. The breeders don't understand why I am excited about something that is so far off. The infertiles think that since I will someday have a child in my house that I no longer am allowed to be depressed by Mothers Day. Boo hoo...no one wants to let me play in their fort anymore.

If I had announced my pregnancy, then this would be a year of tiny, cute gifts that would help me see that they realized what a huge thing this was. Since I am "just adopting" and not for a while yet, I will inevitably be put on a back shelf while everyone acts like my sister is Eve reborn. I will be asked nothing about our adoption and will sit in silence knowing that I will have two more progressively hard Mothers Days to go before we even start the adoption process. Should be a fun time.

*On a side note, anytime I am trying to describe the meaning of something to The Boy, I immediately think of Arrested Development and Buster saying, "It means laundry, but like a child's laundry. We don't actually have a word for it here."