I am not doing well.
The house is quiet. I am lonely. I am sad almost all the time.
I try and rationalize my feelings. Try putting things into perspective.
It's not working.
I find myself looking at his picture on my phone. Listening to his laughter on my phone. Walking by the coffee table to get a glimpse of his hand print.
It has been 8 days since I left him with MGM. I know it took 7 months to attach, it will likely take just as long to de-tatch. I wonder if I can make it.
Infertility must be penance for some past crime.
You try pills and they don't work. You are sad, but move on.
You try IUIs. They don't work. You are sad, but move on.
You try IVF. Maybe once, maybe twice. They didn't work. You are devastated, but move on.
You try foster care. You lose your first baby. You are devastated, but move on.
But when does it end? It's just one pain after another. One heart break after another.
A very large part of me is leaning towards a childless existence. I wonder if it would be better to have one final pain of never having children, or continue being beaten down and disappointed.
I am aware of the argument that the right one will come along and everything will be right with the world.
But from the angle I am currently perched upon, it looks bleak.
I don't know if I WANT another child.
Right now I want MY baby boy.
Times like this I wish I had the ability to fall back on some vice. I don't smoke, don't do drugs, and don't drink much. I wish there was something I could do to take the edge off.
I guess maybe tip tapping away is what I have.
But I gotta tell you, my fingers are tired.