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Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Being in a Limbo

Living in a "limbo" was commented by blogger Dana in one of my posts. I thought about it and all the delays of volunteering or traveling have been set by this "limbo."I want to find different ways to cope because of my powerlessness to this thing called  infertility or the tragedy of losing a baby (Calvin's mom talks about "powerlessness" in her blog). Some of the things I would like to do as a means of coping are not beneficial for TTC. For example, whether I can realistically make it or not, I would like to participate in a boot camp just to get all my anger and frustration out!!!  Right now it's probably not a good idea as I am still going through treatments. I take it day by day... trying out different recipes for cooking.... enjoying time with my hubby for his summer off... reading...

All my summers were supposed to be enjoyable. However, we were both financially unable to plan a nice getaway and medically feeling protective of possible pregnancies. I like the feeling of hopefulness when I actually go through with IUIs. I DO NOT like the feeling of disappointment when I stumble upon medical obstacles or another negative preg test. I am quite tired of this "limbo." What really goes through my mind in this journey is the PLAN. Not that our plans have ever gone through but I mentally start calculating how many more cycles I want to do the IUIs and if something goes wrong, I wonder what it will take to pursue inter'al adoption. Yes, this is overwhelming every time I do this. I say all this just to express how depleted I feel from not knowing the answers. I pray that this summer will be the last summer of being in this transitional state. At this moment, I don't think I can go through another long summer of uncertainties.

So another July 4th is coming up. The first July 4th was the hardest without Joey. I would like to get out of town even if it's not so far. I would like to celebrate what we still have even while missing Joey and Juno. I still have my little furbaby and my dear husband.... we have each other through the hard times like this.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Baby Juno

Today was the due date for my miscarried baby. June 20th. Today is the day I once again "could've" had a living child if the pregnancy went perfectly. My husband had a feeling the baby could've been a boy but of course, we will never know until we see "him" one day. I wanted a unisex name and thought of "June" from the due date then "Juno" as a nickname.
To medical professionals he was merely a blighted ovum. An embryo that didn't quite make it. A chromosomal mishap. I even tried to make light of this past miscarriage from November but I can't get past the fact how much we wanted the baby. The baby stopped growing and we didn't get to see the baby. I only remember the empty sac from the sonogram. How could a baby just not be there? I know some ladies keep every pregnancy tests but I never bothered to even though getting a BFP is truly rare and precious to me. The picture of Juno's positive BFP is all I have left of him. He really did exist. Does anyone care? I may not cry as much as I do for Joey but Baby Juno was loved and dearly wanted by us. I hope that's all what counts for a miscarried baby to be as valid as any other baby.

In a perfect world I would be holding my two children.

Lost you before I found you
Gone before you came
But I love you just the same
Missed you before I met you
On earth we never can
But in heaven we’ll meet again

Chorus from the song "Still" by Gerrit Hofsink

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Right Where I Am: 1 year 7 months, 3wks and 5 days

I don't think I have responded to a theme or maybe I did one time with another blog. For some reason, I missed out on still life with circles blog until I dropped by out of curiosity. I was attracted to its posts and especially the topic. The shared topic is just like the title says, right where we are from the beginning of grief. As I ponder upon this,  I also remember today also happened to be the very FIRST BFP I ever had and that was my precious little girl, Josephine (Joey) - June 4, 2009. I am not good at remembering dates but my husband is.... so he remembered. He talked about what it would've felt like to walk down the aisle with Joey as we watched "The Father of the Bride" yesterday. He woke up this morning playing with our little dog on our bed and he thought about what it would be like to have his Joey wake him up in the morning. She would be 19 months old.... I'm so out of the loop with babies' developmental stages but I am assuming she would've been walking and saying some words or phrases. Every time I miss her, I imagine myself just holding her so tight...

The healing process would have been different if we had our rainbow baby by now. I think about where I would be if my life went differently. Where would I be if the miscarried baby could've made it to the due date of this month. No, I don't think I would've ever forgotten my daughter or stopped grieving. I think I feel more pain because of this infertility struggle. It is quite potent when you mix infertility and grief. It stings a little more every time you miscarry like I did back in November. Facebook has been the worst enemy. I feel a stab at my heart's desire and brokenness every time I see a picture of someone's newborn on FB. Trust me, I have stopped reading many newsfeeds but it finds a way to pop up through someone else's comments. "Deactivate" has been the best way to go.

My hubby and I have isolated ourselves from many friends or acquaintances. Why? Most of them have kids and what else is there to talk about with others besides their children. John's coworkers are getting pregnant and I feel increasingly "left behind." This burden of feeling "left behind" has never left me since the early years of infertility.... I thought I would become immune to pregnancy news, pregnant friends, pregnant strangers, pregnancy commercials, etcetera, etcetera one of these days.... But no, it doesn't just simply vanish and go away.

Four and a half years of TTC, sometimes I just say five years, I recall the summers of avoiding church activities or vacations thinking I would get pregnant "this month." Were those long summers just wasted? So here I am trying to be normal again as I feel ready to hang out with others. They will get to know the masked version of John and I if they don't know our story. We need friendships but not just any kind of friendships. We need friends who accept us where we are emotionally, who don't preach, or offer unsolicited advice. My defenses are still high due to some negative comments from the past. I am afraid to be transparent with those who never walked through infertility or loss because too often I would hear things I don't want to hear. Our social life has slowed down quite a bit. Will this all be turned around just because we have kids in the future? Maybe; maybe not.

By now, I have processed my guilt and have come into acceptance that Joey is not coming back. I wish I had all the medical answers I do now back in 2009. I also bounce to the stage of shock once in a while; I ask myself "Did I really lose my daughter and a miscarried baby?" It's surreal. It's unfathomable. I long for Joey but this year I find myself smiling more than crying at her cute footprint in my living room. Bottom line is I am at a place where I long to hold Joey in my arms and where I yearn to have rainbow children soon. I have one foot in the past and one foot in the future.