Sorry for myself
I don't know whether I can keep this blog up. I think with adoption ahead of me I need to put the rollercoaster of the miscarriages behind me. I am not really finding any of this very helpful - I am really glad for those of you out there who are pregnant, but it is doing my head in. I got pregnant lots of times, so that means I'm not really much of an infertile? I am now 43, so I would be stupid, right, to continue hoping?
I remember long ago, before I started writing this blog, reading a miserable, rather bitter message on an IF message board written by someone who had 'gradually seen everyone else get pregnant and move on'. She described how she felt - it was like a sense of abandonment by the people she had once turned to.
This is a bit raw, and is not meant to sound as though I am like her. I don't feel abandoned, but I feel I may need to abandon you. I read more blogs than I write posts here, but your blogs mostly make me sad or jealous.
I didn't just lose one baby - I lost 6.
I know when each one happened, but I don't mark the 'would have been due' dates. Apart from the one on my birthday and the one on my dad's birthday (which are obviously hard dates to forget for other reasons) I don't mark the days that the miscarriages happened. After all, when does it happen? The day the beta doesn't double? The day you start bleeding a tiny bit? The days you cramp and bleed and pass the huge clots? Is it over when the bleeding stops?
And I don't have a current or even a future pregnancy to look forward to. No-one expects it of me anymore. I have helped them to get to this point, and I am happy that I have, because the pressure had to stop. I will never be a mother. Never. Be. A . Mother, Vivien.
If we have a child, if this adoption process is eventually "successful" I will not breastfeed it. It will not look either like me or like R. People will always refer to his/her 'real' parents. It will belong to me even less than any birth mother's child.
I will never give birth.
Give. Birth.
That is really something to give.
KT said at our last meeting that she did not doubt mine and R's capacity to love and empathise with a hurting child. (What else are we, though a little older?) She felt we were warm, loving people who could offer a child a great deal. But we needed to give serious thought to how we would cope with not being loved back. I said I would carry on loving, (a child never needs your love more than when s/he least deserves it) and KT said that being a parent was essentially about giving without any expectation of receiving anything back. Sounds about right to me, but what do I know?
What if I find I can't give any more? Sometimes I feel that I can't already.
Please excuse long pauses between posts, but I am struggling to keep this blog going. I am not sure if it has a point.
I remember long ago, before I started writing this blog, reading a miserable, rather bitter message on an IF message board written by someone who had 'gradually seen everyone else get pregnant and move on'. She described how she felt - it was like a sense of abandonment by the people she had once turned to.
This is a bit raw, and is not meant to sound as though I am like her. I don't feel abandoned, but I feel I may need to abandon you. I read more blogs than I write posts here, but your blogs mostly make me sad or jealous.
I didn't just lose one baby - I lost 6.
I know when each one happened, but I don't mark the 'would have been due' dates. Apart from the one on my birthday and the one on my dad's birthday (which are obviously hard dates to forget for other reasons) I don't mark the days that the miscarriages happened. After all, when does it happen? The day the beta doesn't double? The day you start bleeding a tiny bit? The days you cramp and bleed and pass the huge clots? Is it over when the bleeding stops?
And I don't have a current or even a future pregnancy to look forward to. No-one expects it of me anymore. I have helped them to get to this point, and I am happy that I have, because the pressure had to stop. I will never be a mother. Never. Be. A . Mother, Vivien.
If we have a child, if this adoption process is eventually "successful" I will not breastfeed it. It will not look either like me or like R. People will always refer to his/her 'real' parents. It will belong to me even less than any birth mother's child.
I will never give birth.
Give. Birth.
That is really something to give.
KT said at our last meeting that she did not doubt mine and R's capacity to love and empathise with a hurting child. (What else are we, though a little older?) She felt we were warm, loving people who could offer a child a great deal. But we needed to give serious thought to how we would cope with not being loved back. I said I would carry on loving, (a child never needs your love more than when s/he least deserves it) and KT said that being a parent was essentially about giving without any expectation of receiving anything back. Sounds about right to me, but what do I know?
What if I find I can't give any more? Sometimes I feel that I can't already.
Please excuse long pauses between posts, but I am struggling to keep this blog going. I am not sure if it has a point.
posted by Country Chick at
8:48 pm
7 Comments:
If posting is more of a chore and not a release--don't do it. If it helps clarify things, flesh things out, continue on. I do so relate to where you are in all of this, however. And am terribly sorry for all of your losses. Each and everyone.
By
Ali, at 2:10 am
Alice is right - if writing the blog isn't helping you in any way, then don't do it.
But it's perhaps worth you knowing that reading it has helped me. I had my fourth miscarriage a month ago. I've been reading your blog for a while, and it brings some comfort to know that what I'm feeling is pretty normal and reasonable (in the circumstances). Even (& especially) the 'angry' things. I can really relate to so much of what you say.
I do wish you the very best for the future, and I hope you're able to adopt. I understand your feelings, but you (and R) would still be the most important person in that child's life. Which is a lot.
By
Anonymous, at 9:04 pm
It's hard, though you may not want to hear that from me right now. I have tried however to make my blog about the process of becoming a parent, in a holistic sense. But if that's not helpful for you, don't feel any obligation to your readers...
By
DrSpouse, at 9:39 am
I know how you feel, that sometimes it is more work then the good you may get out of it.
Please don't completely abandon me just yet though, ok? You were one of the first to reach out to me when I came to Blogland and I may need a shoulder again, depending on how things proceed. My track record isn't all that great either.
By
Shinny, at 8:36 pm
LIke everyone says, only you can decide what to do with this, and it should be whatever you need it to be. But do know that if you stop we will miss you - I already miss you in between increasingly infrequent posts. And if you go, we will all be keeping our fingers crossed that your journey towards being a family is going well.
By
Thalia, at 10:19 pm
Thinking of you.... do whatever it is you need to do, but we're here if and when you need us. xxx
By
M, at 7:00 am
I think what you are feeling is normal. I looked at my blog list the other day and realised that everyone on that list is pregnant. Except me. It is very difficult to accept and I don't think words do the struggle justice. How do you accept this? I still haven't figured it out and sometimes I think blogging helps and sometimes I think it just makes it worse. Do what you feel is best for you.
By
Anonymous, at 3:07 pm
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