J is for Jealousy

Jealousy is simply and clearly the fear that you do not have value. Jealousy scans for evidence to prove the point - that others will be preferred and rewarded more than you. There is only one alternative - self-value. If you cannot love yourself, you will not believe that you are loved. You will always think it's a mistake or luck. Take your eyes off others and turn the scanner within. Find the seeds of your jealousy, clear the old voices and experiences. Put all the energy into building your personal and emotional security. Then you will be the one others envy, and you can remember the pain and reach out to them.

~Jennifer James

Jealousy is an emotion we all feel at some point in time. For some of us, it's a feeling we have on a daily basis. We envy the things others have - their car, their home, their job, their clothes, their jewelry, their children, their husband, their fertility - the list goes on and on.

Very rarely do we find ourselves content entirely with what we have. While we may not be eaten up with jealousy, there is always something someone else has that we wish we had instead. Maybe it's their hair color or eye color. Maybe it's the shape of their body or the way they can effortlessly turn heads as they walk through a room. Maybe it's simply the confidence they have in themselves or the way they make children smile when they laugh.

Whatever it is, there is always some small thing we find in others that we're envious of. For me, the thing I find myself most often jealous of others about is their children (go figure, eh?). I could live without all the other things that I want, but my desire for children burns through me and I feel the evil green-eyed monster rear his head every time I see a Facebook status update from my friends about their children or every time one of my co-workers or friends talks about their children and the silly things they say or do. It eats away at me, this longing for children of my own, and it makes me bitter.

I've spent most of my life walking under that hovering cloud, jealousy, whose acid raindrops blurred my vision and burned holes in my heart.

~Astrid Alauda

Learning to live without feeling such deep-seated jealousy is difficult. I haven't mastered it yet; in fact, I haven't even gotten very good in the beginner's class yet. I want to be able to be around my friends and family with children and not feel so envious of them. I want to not constantly be thinking what it would be like if we had children who could play with the other children in our lives. I don't see how to make this happen, though. As long as we are still hoping and still trying, I don't know how to not imagine the children we should have. I don't know how to not browse through the children's clothing at stores and imagine what it would look like on a child of our own, or how it would look in the pictures I would like to take of our children. I don't know how to not mingle through the toy department and imagine which toys might be the right choice for my own non-existent children. I don't know how to wander through the bedding department at shops and not imagine how I would decorate their rooms.

It's crazy, I know, but how do I not feel this all-consuming jealousy? How do I release this intense longing for something I want but may never have? Have any of you experienced jealousy on this level? If so, how did you let it go? Or have you managed to do so?

For now, I guess I'll just have to accept myself the way I am....jealousy and all.

I is for Infertility

Infertility does not define who I am, however, I would be remiss and the story of me would be incomplete without the mention of it, because it is a large part of who I am.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with my story, I'll give you a bit of background (please note this is discussing infertility, so there may be some information included that may not be comfortable reading for some people). The Hubs and I have been married for 8 1/2 years. We began TTC (trying to conceive) 7 1/2 years ago. We started out like any normal couple and tried, tried, tried. After a couple of years of trying, we began to wonder if something was wrong, but we were in the midst of moving to the US from England (I'm from the US, The Hubs is English), so we didn't panic too much about it. Once we were settled in the US, we began to think about it a little more. At my annual check-up the first year we were here, I asked the nurse doing the check up about it. She stated she thought I might have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) but she wasn't sure. She told me we should keep trying and give it another year. So we let it sink to the back of our minds again for a while.

Early the next year, I had some serious abdominal pains and had to have my gallbladder removed. During the routine surgery to remove the gallbladder, it was discovered that I had a cyst containing more than 2 litres of fluid (yes, you read that right!) sitting on my right ovary. The cyst was removed during the surgery as well and, in my two week follow-up appointment, I asked the surgeon if it would affect our chances of getting pregnant. He stated it should not, as he had only removed a cyst, but that if we continued having problems, we should probably see my doctor.

Call us stupid, but we waited another year before we saw my doctor for help. We thought for sure that it would happen on it's own, but when nada continued to be our answer every month, we decided something needed to be done. So, in 2008, we consulted with my OB/GYN. She diagnosed me with PCOS and Insulin Resistance and started me on a regimen of Metformin. We continued this pattern for several months in an attempt to regulate my cycle (which had been sketchy at best up to this point). Finally, she prescribed Provera to kick-start my cycle and prescribed Clomid to increase our chances of getting an egg that could be fertilized. Four months of this brought nothing but negative news. After the disappointment of these negative cycles coupled with The Hubs losing his job, we decided to have a break for a few months. We continued TTC with natural supplements (Soy Isoflavones) for the ensuing months with no success.

We eventually (when The Hubs became employed again) returned to my OB/GYN to give it another shot. This time, she prescribed Femara to increase the likelihood of us getting pregnant. This, too, was a complete bust with the added complication of completely screwing my cycle up. We finally opted for/talked my OB/GYN into a referral to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE).

Our first visit with the RE resulted in orders for tons of bloodwork, a physical exam and an ultrasound. The results? I have Type II Diabetes, Hypothyroidism, PCOS and Endometrial Hyperplasia. In addition to this, it came to light through the notes from my earlier surgery that, when removing the cyst from my ovary, the surgeon had also removed my right fallopian tube (it had been embedded in the cyst)! While I'm aware the tube could not have been saved, my problem with this was that I was not informed of the removal! This seemed incredibly remiss to me, so I called his office to ask why I had not been given this information. I was told "He probably didn't know." When I asked how this could be, seeing it was in the pathology report and he got that 3 days after the surgery and saw me two weeks after the surgery, I was told "He probably didn't read that far down." I feel this was criminal, however, the surgeon is employed by the hospital for which I work, so there is no action I can safely take without the risk of losing my job. Once again, the universe had succeeded in screwing me over.

Back to the RE. The big concern at that time was the hyperplasia, due to the increased risk of cancer. Throw in a D&C to clear out the affected tissue, six months of medicinal therapy (Megace) and an additional six months (we are currently in the fourth of those six months) of additional medicinal therapy (Provera), along with our RE's refusal to do any fertility treatment until I lose weight (which he never thought to mention until January when we had been seeing him for nearly a year and a total amount of weight loss for which he won't give me a number). Essentially, we are in the great waiting game.

In addition to our medical history, we also have a failed adoption in our past, but that is really too painful for me to talk about these days.

That's our background. But what that doesn't touch on is what the emotional side of infertility is like. It doesn't tell you the tears we've cried. It doesn't mention the tension our marriage has been under at times. It doesn't discuss the depression we both feel. It doesn't take into account the emptiness we feel or the longing we have or the holidays we endure being the only childless ones in our circle of family and friends or the hopelessness we feel when we think about the possiblity of us ever becoming parents.

Infertility is the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I would never wish it on anyone, even my worst enemy. It is so difficult to see parents who take their children for granted (and we've all seen those parents) when we would so happily trade places with them. Infertility is a soul-destroying disease. It hurts everyone it affects. Even those who come through it with their long-fought for children in tow never forget the pain they experienced. Once you've been through infertility, it is a part of you. It's there. It doesn't go away. If you let it, it'll eat away at you. It'll take hold of your life and it will be the only thing you can think about. It will destroy the things you love. You simply have to find a way to get through it without allowing it to take you over completely. That's what I'm working on now.

April 24 through April 30, 2011 is National Infertility Awareness Week. Please get involved! If you know someone suffering from infertility, give them your support! A simple hug and an "I'm here to listen if you need to talk" will go so much farther than you could ever imagine. Don't know anyone suffering from infertility? You can still help! Make others aware of NIAW. Chances are, someone you know is suffering, they may just not be telling anyone. 7.3 million Americans alone (not to mention those in other countries!) suffer from infertility. 1 in 4 women is facing it. Please let those in your life know they're not alone!

February Provera-Scara

Pro.vera is really kicking my butt this month. More so than usual.

I am currently on Day 3 of my dose and I have been so emotionally up and down the last couple of days that I actually feel bad for those forced to be around me. Yesterday morning I started the day off by picking a fight with The Hubs. When I got to work, I had to make a sensitive call to a patient who started crying and I wound up crying with her. By afternoon, I was simply ready to go home and was desperately in need of some sort of change in my life!

I've started thinking I may get a tattoo.

Today, while I've been somewhat more calm, this afternoon while waiting for The Hubs to get off work, I went to wander around Walmart. I'm trying out a friend's phone because I'm wanting to get a new one and I like her's but wanted to try it out, so I was playing around on mobile internet. It's been a cold, wet day in my part of South Georgia, so I was waiting for it to stop raining and was browsing Facebook when I suddenly noticed that nearly every post from friends involved their children! It suddenly hit me that I don't know when I'll get the opportunity to post about things I'm doing with my children. In fact, if circumstance don't fit just right - if the life cog doesn't turn just so to fit the hole left for it by my infertility - I may never be able to use the term "my child". I had a massive meltdown right there in the Walmart parking lot. I started cyring so hard. Then - when I was able to stop crying - I felt so guilty for feeling jealous.

I'll really be glad when I can stop with Pro.vera.

A Dream of the Past

I had a dream last night. I was walking through the mall that was in the town where The Hubs and I lived in England, but none of the stores were open. There were no people in the shopping centre either. It was peaceful. I wasn't trying to get into any of the stores, I was just walking around the place. I could feel myself really missing being there.

When I woke up, I found myself thinking about the dream. I still felt that sense of loss that comes with missing something. I was missing England. The place we lived, the stores we shopped in, the home we lived in, the restaurants we ate in, the experiences we had.

But the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it isn't any of those things I really miss, but the life we had there. The freedom from everything that existed there, in that time. Let me explain...

When we lived in England, it's true that I missed my home terribly. It was the first time I had ever been away from home and, even though it lasted 3 1/2 years, it was still very difficult for me. I missed my family and wanted to be closer to them. I thought that the overt childish treatment I had been given by my family all my life would have disappeared. I felt they would have grasped the fact that I had grown up in my time away from them. Sadly, that is not the case. My mother still treats me as though I'm a teenager. She asks about our finances, where we go, what we do....and not in an interested parent way, but in a "you need to ask my permission" way. She tells me what she thinks we should and shouldn't spend our money on, where and when she thinks we should go and what she thinks we should do. And if we say we're going to do something she disagrees with, her response is often "I said you're not" as though she has a right to dictate our every move.

Don't get me wrong, I do love my mother, but I need space from her. The Hubs and I need the freedom to be adults in charge of our own lives. We are 34 (The Hubs) and almost-32 (me) -years-old, if we aren't capable of running our own lives by now, surely we are in a world of trouble!

But that is only part of what I miss of our life in England. I miss that we were financially secure in a way we've never been here. As I explained in my previous post, we're okay money-wise for the area we live in, but it's nothing like the income we had in England. There we were able to put several hundred GBP per month into savings. That's how we were able to move to the States. I can't help but look at the inevitable: had we stayed in England, at this point in time we would be in a house that belongs to us rather than one we're renting from my mother; we'd already be much farther along with our TTC journey than we are now; we'd almost certainly be happier than we are now with our lives.

In England, The Hubs had held his job for 7 years and he loved it! I had a job I really enjoyed working with a Financial Advisor. We were both happy in our careers and they were lucrative. I felt unhappy there because I missed home, but we were able to visit the States at least once every 6 months. Since moving here, we've been back to England only once. It will probably be next Christmas (2011) before we're able to go back again. I hate that I can't give The Hubs the same support he gave me when I was living away from home.

In fairness, I have to say that, had our plan for moving to the USA worked the way we intended it to, I probably wouldn't feel the way I do about life in it's current incarnation. However, we never intended to settle this close to my family (we live right next door) and we never intended to be doing the jobs we're doing now. Our grand plan was to settle in Savannah and find jobs we loved. Naively idealistic to a fault, it never occurred to us that this would be too tall an asking.

It's soul-destroying to dwell on what-could-have-been and I know that. I know I should leave it alone and be happy, or, at a minimum, accepting of, the life I have now. But I'm currently in a self-deprecating and self-pitying frame of mind, so I'll simply apologize once again for feeling sorry for myself and retreat to my own mind with these thoughts. Sorry for laying this all out for you to have to sift through as well.

What Might Have Been

The little one made his way into the world on January 27 at 2pm. He was born addicted to two different drugs and is currently still in the hospital. C isn't keeping him, but she isn't letting us adopt him. She gave him to someone else.

When I got off work on Wednesday, I went over to Labor and Delivery to try to see them. I simply wanted to see the baby and be sure C was doing okay. No arguing, no berating, no crying or blaming. I just wanted to see how she and the baby were.

She refused to let me in.

She also had the L&D nurses put a ban on me being able to see the baby. At my own work place. It is absolutely ridiculous.

On Thursday while I was out and about in the hospital, C was up walking and passed me in the hall. She gave me the ugliest, coldest look anyone has ever given me, then turned her nose up and walked by me without speaking. She was with the woman she's allowing to adopt the baby and they went out to smoke. I was still making rounds and, when they came back in, they came by me and the adoptive mother said "there she is". Later in the day, I had to make my second rounds to gather the info I needed to do my job and, as I was coming from one section of the hospital, C and a guy I didn't know were walking towards me. C said "I wish she'd quit following me!"

Now, let's stop and consider this for a minute.

A. On Wednesday, what did she really think I was going to do? This is my place of work! If I wanted to start a scene, it wouldn't be there.

B. I wasn't interested in starting a scene. I only wanted to see the baby. I hoped that seeing him would bring some closure for me. I spent all of lunch on Wednesday crying and, after being snubbed when trying to check on them, I cried all the way home as well.

C. I have a job to do. I was not following her. I have to be out in the hospital. After the way she had acted to me earlier, I really hoped I wouldn't run into her at all. It was awful for me.

D. She approached us about the adoption, not the other way around. She pursued us and asked us to adopt the baby. We were happy to oblige, but we did not seek to convince her to give her baby to us.

E. She is the one who stopped contact with us, again not the other way around. She quit answering our calls, lied to us and even moved without giving us a forwarding address. All the while in possession of a mobile phone we bought and paid for. When it was obvious she was avoiding us, we stopped trying to contact her figuring if she wanted contact with us, she would make it.

So, my question is, after all this, why did she make out as if I had done something wrong to her? I had promised that whatever decision she made, I would support her. And I tried to do that. Now, though, I just feel as if it was thrown back in my face. I feel like she never wanted us to parent the baby. I feel she was simply using that child to get money out of us. Something we had the foresight to limit.

In addition to the betrayal and frustration I feel because of someone I considered a sister, I also feel like my heart has been ripped from my body. I didn't think it would affect me as badly as this. I thought, since it was only briefly even a tangible possibility of motherhood, it would not affect me as badly when the little one made his appearance.

I was wrong.

Knowing he's in the world and not being able to hold him and be there for him is killing me. He should be ours! The adoptive mother C picked out is related to her and has a past history of drug abuse. Why is this person being allowed to adopt this precious, innocent baby boy?

I know I'm being harsh. Presumably she is clean now, but she certainly wasn't just a few years ago. I just feel she will not be good for the little one. It hurts me to think he will have to grow up in that kind of uncertainty! I can only pray she has changed her life and that he will have a happy and healthy childhood.

Still, though, a part of me is lost. There is a part of me that, for the briefest of time, was his mother. In that moment, I felt him in my heart. I watched him cry and coo; I watched him grow into an inquisitive little boy; I kissed him as I sent him off on his first day of school, I watched The Hubs and I teach him to ride a bike and to kick a soccer ball; I heard him tell me about his first crush; I saw him battle through his first heartbreak; I watched him apply to college after college trying to pick the right one; I saw him walk down the aisle with the perfect woman for him. All these things happened but in that minimal amount of time it took for me to become his mother in my heart. And then they were snatched away. It's a part of me I'll never get back.

I know he's alive and that is a positive and precious thing. I pray his life will be a good one. And I pray someday I'll be able to have the things again with children who do belong with The Hubs and I. But for now, I feel empty. A little sliver of my heart cut away.

Allowed to Grieve?

Today The Hubs and I were eating our lunch, minding our own business, when a lady who attends church with us approached. We looked at one another because this had been one of the people who had not seemed excited for us when we told her about the adoption, so we were both expecting it to be a bad encounter.

When she reached us, she asked how we were doing and then launched into a litany of how awful the past week had been and all the tragedies that had befallen people she knew. I decided to go ahead and bite the bullet and tell her the adoption had fallen through. Her response? "Well, I figured that would probably happen. Very few adoptions actually go through and I knew that now was not the time for the two of you to be parents. The Lord knew you couldn't handle it."

I expected it to be bad, but that really was like shrapnel to my heart. While I sat in stunned silence she continued "By the way, I saw [enter person] this morning - you know him right? Well that's [enter her son's name]'s friend and he was telling me that he's going to be a daddy! Isn't that wonderful! I had to call [enter son's name] immediately and tell him the good news. I've called him with so much bad news this week I thought this would help him out to know." Did I mention the friend in question - and, indeed, her son - are both 6 years younger than me and 8 years younger than The Hubs? Why is he better prepared to be a parent than we are? After all, we've been married for 7 years and he isn't married to the mother (hasn't even been with her for very long), so what gives?

When I lacked enthusiasm in being happy for them, she proceeded to tell me I should not be upset about the adoption falling through. She again repeated the Lord knew we couldn't "handle" a baby right now and that our time would come in a few years. (I didn't realize she had a mystery phone line to God! If I had known that, I would have snuck over to her house to use it many years ago! But, sarcasm aside...) She could not understand why I was upset about the adoption falling through. It wasn't as though I had been pregnant or if the baby had even been born yet.

It was all make believe.

Which leads me to the question: am I allowed to grieve?

It is true that I was never pregnant, so its not as though I had a miscarriage. We had only known the adoption was even a possibility for a few weeks, so I hadn't had time to get so thoroughly invested that it was like my own pregnancy. I didn't even get to attend a doctor visit. I didn't even begin to suffer what others in this IF community have been through, but still.....

I was his mother!! He had so throroughly become my own in my mind that it was like losing him through a miscarriage. It was like having him in my arms and then him being snatched away. It would not have felt any less of a loss had he vacated my own body too early. He was MINE......and now he isn't.

Am I to not be afforded the time to mourn him? Does the fact that he will live, albeit with someone else, negate my right to grieve? On top of the inability to conceive myself and the continual sentiments expressed to me that this is not important, am I also to be stripped of my time to feel the pain of this latest loss all because he was not of my body?

It seems truly unfair.

All the Messy Details

For those who participated in ICLW last week, I'm very sorry. I completely flaked out on it, but I will make it up next month! Its been a very complicated, messy week and I still feel very down about the whole thing. We've now made a decision, so I feel I should share the details.

On Saturday, November 21, The Hubs and I went out to the movies and a meal for my birthday and our anniversary. We had just left the cinema from seeing New Moon and were headed to the restaurant when my phone rang. I saw that the call was from C, so I answered to see what was wrong. She asked what we were doing and I told her, then she started to cry. She explained that they (she and her BF and 2 kiddies) had lost the camper they were living in due to the police claiming it. Apparently the BF had purchased it a couple of years previously from somone who had actually stolen it from his own father. Therefore, it was considered theft by receipt. She went on to explain that her mother had call the Department of Family and Children Services (DFCS) and they had removed the children from her home and placed them with relatives. Her BF had then told her he had a place to stay and didn't know what she was going to do, but she was on her own. She said he left her with no money and no where to stay except with her mother. Her mother was not allowing her to eat anything or use anything without paying for it.

Naturally, The Hubs and I were seriously concerned and cut our evening short to make the 45 minute trip back home and see what we could sort out for her. She had asked for $30 to get the things she needed. Perhaps its a bad trait in me, but I'm wary of giving people cash, so I told her we would come get her and take her to get anything she needed. I also said we would try to do what we could to help her find somewhere else to stay seeing as her mother and her mother's BF are involved with drugs.

When we got to the house to pick her up, she was in her pyjamas. She got in the car with us and we rode around and talked for a bit. She asked if we could come the next day to get her and procure the things she needed. We said that would be fine and, against my better judgement, we gave her $15 cash so she could eat at her mom's home. After she had calmed down some and we had reassured her we would be there to help her out, we returned her to her mother's home (which I was not happy with, but she insisted it would be okay) and we went home.

The next morning, we called her to tell her we were on our way to get her. She didn't answer when we called, so we proceeded to start on our way to get her. We figured we could wait if she needed to get ready. About 10 minutes after our original call (when we were nearly to her mom's home) she called us back, stated that her BF had come back and they had gone to get the things she needed and they didn't need anything right then. She would call me if anything changed. So The Hubs and I turned around and went back home.

The next morning, I was at work when I received a phone call from the doctor C had asked to change to. I work for a hospital system with an OB/BYN employed there. C had told me she was not happy with the doctor she was using, so we filled out paperwork to have her records moved to the doctor at the hospital where I work. On the Monday, the call came through and I was told that the doctor's office had received a call from C's original doctor stating C was not changing doctors, did not want to change doctors and had never wanted to change doctors! I was completely confused because I had not pushed her to change, that was her decision. I was also told that C had been admitted to the hospital on Friday and stayed overnight to Saturday. The same Saturday she saw us and "forgot" to tell us she had been in the hospital! So I attempted to call C. She did not answer the phone. I tried 3 different times and each time it rang and went to voicemail. When I tried again a 4th and successive times, it did not ring at all, but went straight to voicemail. I was very upset and fearful that she had just turned the phone off to avoid my calls. The Hubs tried to calm me by stating that perhaps the phone had gone dead and I managed to keep my panic to a minimum.

Since I was unable to reach her and I really needed to know what was going on, I left work early and The Hubs and I went out to see her. When we arrived, she claimed she had just gotten back from DFCS seeing what she would need to do to get her children back. She explained to us that, when she first found out she was pregnant, she had been taking oxycodone pills and that she had since been seeing a psychiatrist to prescribe inhibitors to help her curb her addiction while pregnant. She stated that DFCS said this was not good enough and they would be sending her to rehab. She stated that because of this, they said the baby would not be allowed to be adopted upon birth and would have to go into a family placement with the other children. She also stated that the police were involved because of the theft charge against her BF. When questioned about her change of mind on changing doctors, she told us the DFCS would not allow her to change doctors. She did say, however, that she still wanted me to attend her doctor appointment on Wednesday (day before Thanksgiving) with her and that the appointment was at 3:30pm.

As I've stated before, my family kept foster children when I was growing up and I was previously employed by DFCS myself, so her statement that they would prevent the adoption did not ring true with me. After our visit with her, The Hubs and I decided to visit DFCS ourselves, not to get details of her case, but to find out our own status and what we would need to do to become the foster parents and move forward with adoption. This visit led to the interesting news that DFCS were not involved with the baby yet to be born and that our adoption could proceed as planned. C had not been told there would be a problem with the adoption. We thought perhaps she had misunderstood, however, we were also informed that DFCS had not told C she could not change doctors. In fact, they were all for us adopting the child and saving them the work of placing the baby after birth. For, it turns out, C will be going off to rehab for something like 2 years!

From an independent source (DFCS could not give us this information due to privacy issues, however they told us there were several things we needed to know before proceeding with the adoption), we learned that on the Friday she was admitted to the hospital, C's BF and her mother's BF had been fighting and neighbors had called the police. When the police arrived, C had been found in their camper home passed out with a needle in her arm. She had been shooting up!

We were very upset over this news, as you can imagine! Neither of us knew what to think. C had lied to us repeatedly and now she was not returning our calls. And when we have gone to try to see her, her mother says she's not there anymore and she doesn't know where she is.

I tried to reach her to confirm the time for the doctor's appointment, but she wouldn't answer my calls or return them. Therefore, I contacted the doctor's office to confirm the appointment time. I was told the appointment was not at 3:30pm but was, instead, at 1:15pm! Again, C did not answer my calls when I attempted to contact her. (By the way, the phone is one The Hubs and I purchased for her to use. Fortunately, we only got a pay as you go phone.)

The Hubs and I decided to go to the doctor's office and wait to see if she turned up. We waited for an hour for the first appointment. No C. We thought she had, perhaps, actually thought the appointment time was 3:30, so we came back and waited another hour then. No C. And she still was not answering any calls.

At this point in time, The Hubs and I decided we needed to let go of this dream. For that's all it ever was. We have contacted DFCS again and told them we are still interested in the adoption if it comes to it on their end, but for now we have decided not to even attempt to go any further.

The Hubs has requested we try again on our own, which is our current path. I still feel numb about the whole experience.

Complications

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Ours was okay, but we've had some disappointing news. Since things are uncertain at the moment, I won't go into any great detail. However, I will say that, at the moment, our adoption is on hold. We know C has been lying to us about some important things and she is now avoiding us and not answering our phone calls. We both feel devestated. I will post more when we know more. Thanks for your support.

Confusing...

The Hubs' appointment today didn't go as planned. The pre-employment assessment he had to do was an ethical questionnaire. No problem, thought The Hubs. Now you should know, The Hubs is the most scrupulously ethical person I know in a professional capacity (he has had his moments personally, but I digress). So this questionnaire should have been a breeze.

However, it seems that a couple of The Hubs answers were flagged. When asked the question Have you ever been tempted to take anything from an employer? The Hubs answered yes because, he thought, who hasn't been tempted to take office supplies? He was asked what item he had been tempted to take from his employer. The Hubs answered that he couldn't think of a specific example, but he was sure he had been tempted but he never had. He also expressed that he thought this was a common occurence.

A second question Have you ever been tempted to cheat an employer in any way again earned a yes answer from The Hubs, as he figured most people had at some point in time visited a non-work related internet site. This time he was asked what he had cheated his employer out of, so he gave the aforementioned answer. We've all done this, haven't we? I know I have (in fact, I do it most days). Besides, the question was had you been tempted to cheat an employer.

The Hubs said the interviewer seemed okay with these answers, but did not send The Hubs for his drug screen. Instead, he said he would have a talk with the HR Manager (interviewer is the Operations Manager) and, if they decided to call him back, be in touch. No date to expect a call this time.

We feel that's probably it and another job opportunity is gone. Having said that, did The Hubs really want to work for a company that stressed over being tempted to do something no one would ever do? I, mean, even Jesus was tempted.

The wait continues. I will keep you posted.

Thoughts on the IF Journey

Alone.
So much alone
On this journey.

Though many go before me
And still others follow
In this journey I am alone.

Even he who walks beside me
Holding my hand down this path
Can not know my pain.
It is mine alone
As his belongs solely to him.

Though a dream shared,
A battle both have fought,
Disappointment simultaneously felt,
In this ache we are both still

Alone.

The Hubs and I were talking last night about our IF journey and how far we had come and how far we still had yet to go. We were discussing how each of us felt at this point in the journey and how we felt others might be feeling when they reached this point. These words just came to me while we were talking, so I grabbed a pen and wrote them down.

I think that, while we all share this journey, the pain is ours alone. We can't know how each individual feels. We can't know exactly how even our partner feels. Pain is such an intimate private thing. It can't be explained. It can only be felt in each person's own way.

Bitterness and Jealousy

I feel really bitter today.

Lately, it seems every way I turn, someone else is pregnant. And I really am happy for them. I really wouldn’t wish infertility on anyone, but I can’t help but think why can’t that be me? I feel awful for the jealousy that engulfs me, but, short of locking myself in a room somewhere and never coming out, I don’t know how to not feel the evil green monster every time I see a baby belly or a small person.

The truly awful thing about it is that I even feel jealous of ladies who have suffered a pregnancy loss. I know that sounds horrible of me and I really, truly feel for them and wish it had not happened to them. But in the same breath I think how in six years I haven’t ever had a BFP. I’ve never seen two pink lines. I’ve never felt a flutter in my tummy that was my child moving. I’ve never felt the excitement that comes with knowing there is a life inside of you. I’ve never been able to dream of the potential held in that one little moment when it seems life is finally coming full circle. I’ve never been able to give my husband the gift of telling him he is a father. So many things I’ve never been able to do and then there is the worry. Will I ever be pregnant? Am I even able to get pregnant? What if it never happens for us? What if, for some unknown reason, we’re unable to adopt a child? Are we forever destined to be without children?

I know that by having never suffered a loss, we’ve been spared the heartbreak of having our dream within our reach and then having it snatched away. I know I don’t actually want to suffer a loss and I really do feel tremendously awful for feeling this jealousy. And I want to take this time to apologize to anyone who has suffered a loss. I honestly am not intending to make light of what you’ve suffered. I truly do ache that you’ve had to endure it. No one should have to go through something like that.

I just wonder. What if? What if I never have the opportunity to be a mom? Is that where I’m headed?