Still Don't Know What to Say, Except, Thank You.

Thank you, everyone for the outpouring of love and support. I can't tell you how much it has meant to me and how it was truly, viscerally, felt from over here. It was like a big, warm blanket of support being wrapped around me that no one else could see, but that I could feel. Bless you. Thank you, Mel, for making the call to circle the wagons. I am touched.

I don't have any ground breaking news to report on the topic of our "no more babies" dilemma. But, things have gotten better between Mister and myself since I wrote that last post. Maybe because I have been just somewhat numb over the whole thing. It's just too much to deal with in big chunks, so I am sort of breaking off pieces one at a time when I am mentally ready. And, lately, I've been so involved with work (I just survived my biggest event of the year this past Sunday--and I'm still recovering) that I have been able to avert my focus, to some degree.

I've been trying to look around corners, for the good things, the positive things, even seeking out any small sign of better times, or better luck on the horizon. Otherwise, I will go insane. Because, it does sort of seem like the bad luck (financially at least) just keeps flowing this way, and I am in a sort of state of disbelief and dismissiveness (is that a word?). I just sort of shrug my shoulders and say, "really?! Okay. Whatever..." Like the other day, when the latest bad news tidbit came rolling down on us: We found out that Baby Boy's health insurance (through Mister's new company) was not going to cost us around $80.00 per month as they had quoted, but $400.00. Whaaa???!! Yeah, seriously. At this point, though I could cry, (and do) I have to chuckle too. It's crazy. So, aside from trying to figure out what The Universe is trying to teach us with all of this crap, we are just plodding along. I wake up each day and just try to think about that. day. Not next week, next month, or next year. Because that's what starts the panic setting in. That's when the heart starts racing and the palms get sweaty. And I try not to go into the past, either. Like thinking about how long its actually been since we actually first threw out the birth control, or like how long it's been since I actually was pregnant that one time, or, what it felt like (briefly) to be pregnant, or....(the list goes on and on). If I start going down that road, the depression and the tears start. So, living in the present is my new challenge, and intention. And sometimes, it's hour to hour, or minute to minute. But, it is working (for now). Just don't ask me to start thinking about the future. I can't right now.

I have had several very vivid dreams recently about being in labor, being pregnant or breastfeeding. But I am trying not to read anything into it. It just is. Sometimes, I think to myself, "maybe in my next life?" And, that doesn't make me feel deliriously happy, but it doesn't throw me into depression either. It's a sort of neutral thought that I can handle right now.

I am trying to think about what other things I might like to do with my life. I mean, since my "perfect dream" has not come true, and so many of the things I thought I would have, be and do, have not really come to fruition, I am trying to think of what else I might want for myself--so that I might change my focus. I can't keep banging my head up against this brick wall of infertility. I am a mother. I love my son. He is awesome. And, on the good luck/bad luck scale, getting to be his mom is a huge weight on the lucky side of the scales. So, I have to remember that, thank my lucky stars, and move on. Mother to one, and one only? Not what I had planned, but...okay*. So what else do I want then? If not more children, what? Maybe being a mother to one means I will have more time in the coming years of my life to pursue something else that will become really important to me.

I just have to figure out what that is.

In the meantime, I am looking under the couch cushions for spare change, and looking through the fabric of my Reality for and kind of change.

*(I haven't 100% completely given up on the hope that it "might happen" for us one day, but I can't pin all my hopes on that anymore, either).