August 16, 2004

What Could Have Been

I know…my second post in a day. Amazing. But this is more of a continuation of the first…so bear with me.

Sometimes I feel like such a failure for not being able to give Jeff another child. I feel like he got the raw end of the deal, because “our” infertility lies within me. If he would have chosen someone else, he could have had any number of children. I feel like I am cheating him out of something he very much deserves. I don’t want to be the cause of any sorrow in his heart. It might be an irrational thought, but it’s one that has played over an over in my head: I am the cause of this heartbreak. But, if I want to be happy, if I want to be free, I need to let go. I need to give up the guilt and the negative feelings towards myself, and quit dwelling on heartache. And this “letter” is my way.

You would have been beautiful. You would have had the same eyes as your big sister, the same smile as your father, the same curly dark hair as me. We all wanted you so badly, and it has been a hard road to where we are now. But here we are. At the point of letting go. Although it makes me very sad, I have to say goodbye to what you would have been; to let go of who you could have been. This may seem funny to some…how I can be so heartbroken, why am I writing about someone that never existed? But you did…in our hearts. You were real to us…a dream that seems so very realistic. We just knew you would appear someday, but you never did. I still don’t know why, but that’s a question I need to let go of also, because they whys and the what-ifs would eat me alive. Why can’t I? What if we tried this?

So anyway, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s been too hard on all of us, and for us to be able to heal we need to let go. Though we will always want you, and there will always be an ache in our hearts without you, this chapter of trying so exhaustingly to bring you to us is over. I won’t forget you, I’m quite sure I’ll think of you whenever I see a newborn in their mother’s arms; whenever I hear the sweet sound of a baby’s cry; whenever I see “I’m the Big Sister” emblazoned on a little pink t-shirt. It won’t be easy, but I have to move on.

All my love.

**This past post is just a small, microscopic glimpse of the heartbreak that was our battle with secondary infertility. Obviously we have now moved on from this space we were in at that point, but the heartache is always there…even if it’s smaller. Even reading this is still hard for me. I have my family now – the one I always wanted and I am overjoyed by that…but there will always be a part of me that feels sorrow over never being able to carry another child in my body, not being able to raise another child from the first second of their life. I took so much for granted the first time around. I guess there is a lesson in that.



Blast From The Past

What is it with me using rocket terms recently? Blast, Liftoff…anyway. Wow. It’s been a busy couple of weeks. Isn’t it always though? Our first 2 weeks as an official business, and we had orders for a total of 9 dozen cupcakes all said & done. I know that is just because we announced we were up and running and some nice friends and family wanted to throw us some business – but it was still a nice way to kick-start things. We already have a potential few future orders for birthdays and a wedding too, so we’re feeling pretty good about that end of things.

I was planning on this last weekend being slow and updating here then…but life always has a curveball waiting doesn’t it? This particular curveball was thrown Friday morning when I found out my dad was taken to the hospital after passing out. His blood pressure was extremely low and as it turns out, he has a laceration on his spleen. That’s bad enough as it is, but throw in my dad’s history and it makes it even more tricky. I have been trying to figure out a way to explain all of this and realizing how difficult that is because in the newness of this particular blog, I haven’t really gotten to talk about me and the history of things that have happened to make me who I am today. Part of that has to do with my dad. He was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer a few years ago…but just explaining that doesn’t tell you what you’d need to know to understand. 

Back when my adult self was being formed, when all those things that happen to a person to shape them into who they are today were happening to me – I wrote in a different place. I stopped writing there because I felt like I was done I guess…but now I don’t feel done anymore. But I did feel like I needed a fresh start, and I really like the format of WordPress. It feels good to write here in this space. But when you start fresh, the new people you talk to don’t really know you…so in order to help you “know me”, and understand some of the things I write about like my dad or our adoption story I think, instead of re-writing some of those old painful (and some not painful) memories, I will re-post here some of my past writings that I feel are particularly good or might explain my past a little bit better than I can now…because it was written then, when I was in it. When I felt those things a lot more acutely than I do now.

So when I share these past writings with you, I will just title them with the date I originally wrote them…I won’t change anything else (even if I feel an overwhelming need to edit something – I will not). So you’ll be reading them just as they were written then. I’ll try to post the stories I want to share in order from oldest to most recent…so it will make more sense and maybe you’ll get a picture of who I am today. The good, the bad and the not-so-beautiful (The word “ugly” is such an…ugly word).