Bittersweet

So life here has been overwhelming. We've got sick grandparents on both sides. My sister was diagnosed with asthma and probably has some kind of cardiac problem too. (This seems to be a trend in my family--late onset cardiac issues. Weird, huh?) My youngest brother got into a spot of legal trouble. Okay, not a spot. He stumbled into a huge fucking swampland of likely felonious, hopefully only misdemeanor trouble.

My dad had to go in for some cardiac procedures including a pair of stents in the vessels heading down to his legs. I'm terrified this is just the first of many similar procedures for him. I watched Apa, my paternal grandfather, lose both of his legs to diabetes--and I just can't imagine watching Daddy go through the same thing. It's really a sobering thought.

I'm also worried about my mom. She's the one trying to juggle all this madness at home. She's had serious heart problems in the past (heart attacks, hardening of the cardiac muscle and vessels) so I'm always secretly freaking the fuck out about her. I'm a notorious secret worrier. I worry about everyone and everything. It's so taxing.

Here at home Dave and I are coming to grips with the likelihood that we'll never have a biological child of our own. It's been so hard for me. I try to be, you know, all strong and shit but, Jesus, this has been rough. I feel so betrayed and angry. I worked so hard to get in shape. I took all the fucking meds and denied myself all the yummy little treats I desperately craved. I made a complete ass of myself with all those ridiculous post sex rituals, desperate to increase the chances of just one little spermie making its way to one of my eggs.

And nothing. I had one really good cycle after coming off birth control pills to calm my ovaries. I tried not to get my hopes up but, dudes, it was a textbook ovulatory cycle. I had all the changes you're taught to look for when doing fertility charting: the spiking temps, the EWCM, etc. I can't even find the words to describe what it felt like to sit there in our bathroom, pissing on sticks, and hoping, praying that maybe this time... But no.

I've done a lot of crying lately. In a way, it feels really good to just wail and get it out. There's really not much else you can do. You'd think I'd want to be around my family at a time like this, but, honestly, I'm sort of relieved Dave and I didn't have the traveling budget or the days off at work to make the trip. I just can't do it right now. I can't be around all these people who love us and pretend that everything is all right. It's not. I also don't feel comfortable talking to my extended family about our infertility struggle. I don't even know how many of them would even know why I'm so distraught lately.

And all the kids and *surprise* pregnancy announcements at family functions... I was talking to Mom on Christmas Day and there were all these babies in the background. Joey has a handful of friends with kids and Mom just dotes on all of them. After that phone call I felt like absolute crap. I just kept thinking, Jesus, I can't even give my mom grandkids. They've got to settle for surrogate grandbabies.

And, yes, obviously I know my mom wasn't in any way, shape, or form trying to insinuate that but when you're dealing with infertility, you tend to focus on weird crap like that. Unfortunately, I've known women for whom that's been absolutely true. People can be so cruel when it comes to infertility.

It's strange but generally I'm totally okay around kids. You'd think I'd be a sobbing, slobbering fool but shockingly I'm fine. On Dave's birthday, we were put in the family section at Olive Garden. We were surrounded by babies and toddlers and older kids and happy families. It didn't faze me. Well, I wished that one set of kids would have stopped running around our section. That's super rude!

So, anywho, Dave and I have decided to keep giving this reproduction business the old college try for another 6-10 months. After that, we're done. We won't be pursuing IVF or any complicated injection/IUI protocols. We've chosen our adoption agency and are working on saving the 15-40K we'll need for our first adoption. I have to say I felt the greatest sense of relief and calm when we made our decision. In a way, I've always sort of known that I'd be an adoptive mother. As a kid I used to write out adoption certificates for my dolls and bears. This just *feels* right.

And, it's like The Ash told me during our Killeen trip. One way or another, I'm going to be a mom. And really that's all that matters.