Monday, March 19, 2012

Again... crumbling. And rambling.

I almost made it back to happy.

The first time someone I knew became pregnant after being diagnosed with POF, someone told me, "you're a proud woman..." It must be true. I must have the pride of an elephant. Otherwise it would not hurt so, so much when I'm reminded that I'm part of such a small group of women. A select few. 1%.

It's tough to keep faith alive with this. Maybe my faith is just not strong enough. I'm not ashamed to admit it, because we're all weak. I personally seem to have: the pride of an elephant, the faith of an amoeba.

I tire of feeling so minuscule, so helpless. So hopeless. I have prayed to God that He rip off this desire to carry a child. I want it GONE from me, sometimes. The past couple of days I want it gone. If I could just find a way to keep it from hurting so much. Last time, I managed to alienate a whole portion of our family because of this. I hate what I become. Nothing seems important. At work, I literally become glassy-eyed and aimless. I have to push myself to get things done around the house.

And I wish I could be one of those people who when they go through crap, they write on their blogs, "everything has a reason, and I'm confident that God will guide us..." Well, I want to see their weakness, too. I want to see the dark times right before getting to that calm moment. Because that would show their humanity, their brokenness. Everyone breaks. The great King David broke. He begged God to not forsake him. I know I will get there, too; I just... feel so lonely. Three women in our family, including myself, have feared/been diagnosed with "fertility problems". Three. Two are pregnant, in less than a year of "having problems". Guess who's not.......

These are some of the things I wrote today, while at work (thankful for my iPhone):

"Why am I unfit to reproduce? Three women in the family with "fertility problems", yet the other two go on to have big bellies. They go on carrying a child. Why must I be cursed? Why am I not worthy to carry, to sense my own blood growing inside? Hear me O Lord... Have mercy on my devastated soul. I cannot do this for the rest of my life... Please take away this desire if I cannot have a child of my own... I fear this depression lasting for the rest of my life... While I don't desire this on anyone else, if I knew ONE woman out there in our circle of family/friends with the same hopeless case... I would probably not feel as terribly lonely, as I do. The pain is so profound, the isolation so intense. It's horrible to be part of the ONE PERCENT who simply cannot conceive because of this condition.

This cross, Lord... I must need so much cleansing, to be bearing such a heavy cross... I'd been smiling so much lately, I was happy to see myself go back to normal, finally... As if the diagnosis had never happened... I missed being happy. It's gone, again."

I'm tired of tears.

All kinds of women out there get to have babies. Some hate that they got pregnant. Some wish they'd never had kids. Yet, here we are. I'm unable to give children to my loving husband. It breaks me to not be able to. I may not deserve children, who knows; but him? He deserves the world. Sometimes I break down in tears telling him "I'm sorry" repeatedly, because I can't do this.

So we've started looking into adoption. We run the risk of getting our hopes up, and possibly having the birth mother change her mind about giving up the child. We just got to talk to a family who JUST went through this, literally. Building a family, expanding it... I don't know why, but He has decided that it can't be easy for us.