Woe-fullness

Thanks to all of you that commented on reading my blog a few posts ago. It means a lot to know that more people read it than I originally thought. I'm especially touched by those new readers whom I've never meant before and are friends-of-a friend. That is so cool to have people routing for Kyle and I that we've never even met before!! The internet is a crazy place for making new connections.

Speaking of connections, I have to say that without this blog, I would be in a very lonely place right now. Sure I have a lot of friends and family in my life, but none of them really "get it". They just can't fathom how it feels to be on the "island".

This blog is virtually my only link to women going through infertility or trying to adopt, besides my college roomate, Kris , who coincendentally has been trying just as long as I have.   I used to know a lot of infertiles in real life, but most of them resolved the situation either through successful infertility treatments or adoption. Year by year, the real life infertiles I knew have become mommies. And, of course, I'm so happy for them and inspired, but I feel left behind too. On top of that I feel discouraged, especially since I was a part of a tight-knit IF support group that was my saving grace and now that they all have children, I hardly hear from them anymore. A lot of them cut ties with the group once they were successful. And out of the seven of us, it's me left standing alone on the "island". So I'm an outcast even in the world of infertiles, too, which is is very, very crap-tastic. Maybe there should be some kind of demented game show for this because I'm sure I would win.

To say it wasn't getting harder would be a lie. You'd think after years of letdowns, I would be a pro at being infertile. But I'm really starting to wear down from it. I know what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and God doesn't give people more than they can handle and I believe that. But, I also believe that I've paid my dues and have learned as much as I'm going to learn from this lesson of sorts. I've been trying for six and a half years to be a mommy. And during these six and a half years, I've supported my friends in their pregnancies, babysat their kids, gone to umpteen baby showers and kid's birthday parties ( well, as much as I feasibly could attend or wasn't excluded from). I've bit my tongue when countless people have said heartless things to me such as "just relax, it'll happen", "maybe you weren't meant to be a parent", "now that you are adopting, you'll get pregnant" and so much other bunk. After numerous treatments and three miscarriages, I've laid to rest the dream of ever having a biological child of my own. And, I've embraced adoption wholeheartedly and believe that it is that path I'm meant to be on. Because I really do have a lot of love to give (in the midst of all this ranting). And I think Kyle and I would make a pretty darn good parents, too (pay no mind to our spoiled fur kids).

I'm sorry this turned into a mini-pity party but I needed to release these feelings. I don't talk about my "situation" much in real life anymore. But, not a day goes by that I don't long to be a parent and I'm not acutely aware of the burning deep inside of me. Not one single day. And there's been a lot of days to experience that - around 2282 days to be exact. But, who's counting?