Grandchildrenless

Last week was my MIL's 65th birthday, so we drove two hours north to celebrate with DH's parents and a few of their friends. We had a great dinner at a restaurant out in the countryside and went back to the in-laws' home for tea and cake, although they had a few alcoholic beverages before the cake.

There was lots of chatting and one woman was talking about her son who has started a new job and is going through training. One of the friends across the room did not hear all of the story asked if it was her son or grandson she was referring to. Out of nowhere my MIL replies, "It's her son. You see both Eileen and I are Grandchildrenless." It felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I rolled my eyes and held back the tears that tried to fill my eyes. Then they began a discussion of neighbors' kids. She knows that we want children and that we have gone through fertility treatments. MIL is also aware of the pregnancy losses, and yet she chose to shine a light on the matter in front of their friends. I fail to understand her lack of sensitivity in the matter. Wish you could trade in MILs. Thank God we do not live in the same town and we are a two hour drive away, although it was much better when we were a 4-7hr flight away.

Rainy Day Monday

The last time I posted Aunt Flo had just paid a visit and now I'm waiting for another visit. She's late but I'm not expecting any miracles this month (or at least I haven't bothered to test) as I've had a few hot flashes -- and I've come through a stressful month -- so, it's just a bad mix of hormones and stress.

The evening after my last post I phoned an old friend hoping to chat and to ask if she might be able to provide a letter of reference for this other adoption agency. She finally got back to me the week after Easter. We caught up on each other's news and I vented about the big international adoption agency in town and mentioned how it was 'driving me crazy.' Her reply was: "Well, you could have a baby and going crazy too." Hmmm, wasn't expecting that retort. Then I told her about the out-of-town adoption agency and how they want five letters of reference, and asked if she could possibly write one. Her reply was: "Well, I don't know." I felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. I came back with: "But, you told me last summer that you had written numerous reference letters for other friends applying to adopt; couldn't you just use an old one and change it to fit DH and I?" Her reply was: "But, I don't live in the same city as you two so it's not the same." My heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. We've known each other since 1976 when we were in grade 2 together. She's one of two friends that I've poured my heart out to regarding my infertility.

I quickly changed the topic of conversation and we talked on the phone for another hour and I did not mention adoption again. For a week I felt rejected and depressed. How could she not recommend us as parents? I realize she lives in another city now, but we've kept in close contact by phone and she's heard everything about my relationship with DH from the moment we met through our struggles with infertility, and now trying to adopt. DH told me I was taking it too personally, but how else can I take it? Yes, I am personally insulted that this old friend cannot write a letter recommending that my husband and I would be good parents.

Now DH and I will have to ask a few other friends for references. The problem is that throughout our infertility struggle (almost 9 years) we have kept our troubles to ourselves. Most people don't ask us anymore about babies because they assume that we do not want children. When we tell people our situation then we can't take it back because it's out there and I do not want them to pity us. I am afraid they will be constantly asking us about how the adoption is going and why it's taking so long (as my sister and brother-in-law already do). When I bring this up with DH he is pragmatic and says we should just go ahead and write the reference letters and then send them to our friends to sign.

A week after the telephone chat with my old friend I was feeling better. The tv show 'Glee' had an episode featuring music from the Fleetwood Mac album 'Rumours', and there's nothing like the song "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" to make one feel better. The next day I woke and was ready to start preparing our profile and birth mother letter for the out-of-town adoption agency. Then, while I was on the treadmill, my Mother left a message telling me to phone her immediately. I knew by her voice that something was wrong...someone had died. I automatically thought of her two older brothers who both had suffered strokes within the last ten months. When I phoned her back I was shocked to learn it was another uncle who had been in hospital for a procedure and had died the next day. The family still doesn't know the cause of death, although the coroner did request an autopsy. Very sad news. His funeral was the weekend before last and many more tears were shed.

These past few weeks have been stressful, sad, and difficult. Oh, and I forgot to mention that DH and I invited our families over for dinner just this past weekend: his parents on Saturday evening; and my parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew on Sunday. Oh, and for some strange reason on Saturday morning DH accused me of not wanting to adopt anymore. Huh? I have no idea where that came from except that when I am depressed I lose all interest in everything except eating comfort food and watching movies. I was offended, but told him frankly that I had been: freaked out about my mammogram just after Easter (it was okay); depressed by my old friend's rejection of me becoming a mother through adoption; sad by my dear uncle's death; and stressed about entertaining both sets of parents that weekend. Then I added that I was not a robot and that I had feelings. Finally he understood...I think.

Today is a new day and, apart from the endless rain, I can see bright sunny days in our future. They may not be here now, but their time will come, and until then I will try to be optimistic.

December is the Cruelest Month

December is the cruellest month...at least for Barren Babes. The month is full of gatherings between family and friends, which opens up the possibility for catching up on those you haven't seen in years. With this comes news of pregnancies and birth announcements. So far, for this Barren Babe, the score is: three pregnancies and one birth announcement. Of course, there's still a week left in December so one never knows...

Will write about my mini pre-Christmas 'breakdown' when I'm back home and not blogging at my in-laws. Yes, December is the cruellest month for Barren Babes as we attempt to receive these announcements with courage and grace while keeping our pain and broken hearts hidden away. Chins up. Be strong.

Dreading the Holidays, or How to Cope with MIL

Yes, I am dreading the Holidays. We fly home for Christmas early tomorrow morning, and as much as I love my family, I am really not looking forward visiting. Especially the in-laws, my mother-in-law (MIL) specifically. She knows our struggles with infertility, and yet it's like she has selective amnesia. Last Christmas was difficult because I had a miscarriage the previous spring and my 'due date' would have been around late November/early December, so I was especially sensitive. MIL kept bringing up the baby of Husband's friend from back home, like in the car on the way to church, at Christmas dinner. Ugh! The last time she brought it up I had to be nasty and mention that the friend never wanted children (according to my Darling Husband) and is appeasing his wife (did I mention the baby is, well, ugly). Other times MIL brings up adoption. It's difficult to discuss these topics, so I try not to say much. She really would love a grandchild, but I don't know if we'll be able to provide one, biological or adopted. This year I'm feeling stronger so hopefully it will go better and I won't let her harping get under my skin.

I'm Dreaming of Surviving the Holidays

Oh my, it's getting close to that time of the year. You know the time. When friends and family gather and interrogate you about the most intimate aspect of your relationship: when are you going to have a baby? I dread it. Dread it like the flu and Celine Dion on the radio. My Darling Husband and I are escaping this Thanksgiving and going for a tropical vacation. Of course, as everyone's nosiest co-worker knows, this is definitely the way you get pregnant. Just go on a holiday. You'll get knocked-up for sure!!!!! Hahahaha! Me and my single follicle will be sipping pina coladas on the beach and lapping up the sunshine.

It's Almost That Time of Year Again

Yes, it is almost that time of the year again. The time of family gatherings where relatives think they have the right to interrogate you as to why you don't have children yet. The time where friends and family fill Christmas cards full of photos of their ever expanding families and the dreaded newsletter full of tidbits of what their children have done this year. The time where shopping malls and stores are full of the stroller brigade. It is almost Christmas. Must remember to stay strong. If anyone knows of Christmas survival tips for Barren Babes, please pass them along.