The last depressing post for at least 24 hours

May 24, 2006 at 9:33 pm | Posted in AdoptThis!, Blogging about Blogging, First Comes Love - Then Comes... GonalF?, Home, Sweet Home?, The Other D (Better Living Through Chemistry) | 24 Comments

I was going to write a chin-up, hanging in there, positive post. About going back to weight watchers and seizing the moment and maybe influencing a future endocrinologist in the process. Maybe post some really silly photos. Then I started reading my bloglines and I just lost that loving feeling.

I have a confession to make:

I don’t want to adopt.

Or rather, I don’t want to go through the adoption process.

If you dropped a baby in my lap and said, here, here is your baby. Love him. Love her. I would. Immediately. But the process. So much work. So much waiting. And as Karen has so eloquently described, so little to show for it. Perhaps I should make bumper stickers that say: I am nine months pregnant with a homestudy. Please lavish love and attention and societal approval on me. Or: “someone in another country has morning sickness for me RIGHT NOW.”

The other part that takes the joy out of the adoption business for me and that I should probably write more about, is that, to a certain extent, I don’t matter in this process. For some very good reasons, we’ve chosen international adoption and so one of us has to adopt as a “single” woman. Pili has the steady job with the dependable salary and the health insurance. Oh, and the absence of chronic illness. Honestly, when I think about it I’m amazed they even let me adopt a cat. Oh, I remember. Back then I had a real job.

So I don’t have to write a detailed biography and answer ten thousand questions about my childhood. And I don’t have to obtain certified copies of my birth certificate in triplicate, witnessed by a blind nun from Brazil. And oddly enough, that makes me sad. Because we don’t get to do this as a family, talking about both of our strengths and weaknesses and making lemonade out of lemons celebrating the fact that because I have two part time jobs I will be able to quit one and be home with the kid. Instead the homestudy will have to talk about how great the day care is at Pili’s work, even though we probably won’t be using it. Being so irrelevant to the process also makes me into (even more of) a total evil controlling wench, second-guessing Pili’s every move.

It’s funny, because before we failed fertility 101 and 202 and 606, I didn’t care all that much about genetic connections. I am, after all, the person who falls passionately in love with all babies and spends far too much time at faculty parties talking to the children of Pili’s esteemed collegues, rather than the esteemed collegues themselves.

But now that we’ve gone down that road, and I’ve allowed myself to dream soft gauzy dreams of pregnant Pili and babies with my eyes and her mannerisms, I’m finding them damn hard to give up. As I type this I see my about to burst pregnant neighbor (yes, Gourmet, they are mandatory) pulling down her garage door and I feel a fierce shove of anger and resentment. I don’t want to have to go through all of this. I want the dream, and I can’t put it down. I picture a younger me, crying bitterly over a broken toy but unwilling to let it go so that my mom could try to fix it. Before the transcript of our medical charts read failure and bitter disappointment, I was excited about adopting. Now? It’s like having a book you really wanted to read assigned by a teacher you dislike.

I compare the bitter and painful arguments that Pili and I had last night about what questions to ask the adoption agencies and who should do the asking with the cotton candy sweet joy we felt during the brief few weeks of the pregnancy.

And I find myself thinking: maybe one more cycle? Maybe these eggs weren’t so good because I was overstimulated and then had to coast and produced so many. Quantity over quality. Dr. Short-but just raises his eyebrows quizzically when I ask that question. As if, what’s done is done, honey. Crying over $6000 of spilt milk? But I bet if I mentioned that we were thinking about cycling again, he’d change his tune.

The thought even flickers through my mind like heat lightening. Pump. Continuous Glucose Monitoring. I could like, maybe try, maybe.

Then the depression kicks in and I think yeah, right. Remember, nothing works art, this is you we’re talking about. And I start wondering what’s wrong with me that things never seem to work out for me. And poor Pili that her good karma gets pulled down into the gutter with along with my crap. And part of me knows it’s the heavy sunglasses of depression I’m seeing through while an equal part of me is convinced it’s real.

While I’m venting, I also have a little bit of a bloggity pet peeve with someone whose site I’ve commented on lots of times. She’s on my blogroll. And she has not, to the best of my knowledge, ever ventured over here. I don’t think she’s homophobic. She comments on other people’s blogs. She comments on other people’s comments on her blog. We’ve both been through a lot of the same shit recently. So why not me? Do I smell? (Lifting an arm and sniffing, discreetly)

I guess blogging and seventh grade really aren’t that different, huh?

* Before various people start sending me frantic emails: I don’t hate my friends in real life and in the computer who have been through hell and then some to get where they are. I don’t even resent them. Wistful, envious, yes. Resentful, no. I don’t want to avoid them, although sometimes it is hard to see what I want so badly and don’t have.

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  1. ok. where to start… Your pain is palpable. I want to make this all better but I don’t have the words. I want to argue with you about how you are feeling (we can’t debate emotion, it is what it is), berate you into cheering up (good plan, eh?) or maybe find the 10 words that will brighten your day. I hope it helps to know that I (distant random internet friend) want better for you.

    On a more specific note, I consider myself a faithful reader and occasional commenter 😉 but I don’t know why it is that you seem to have ruled out getting pregnant. Please know that if you *ever* want to speak candidly with a woman who has diabetes and has been through pregnancy, I’m your gal. Phone, email, whatever. And if I don’t have the info you need, I can for darn sure help you track it down.

  2. ((art))

    I’m thinking of you.

  3. sitting here wishing there was something, anything i could say to make it better.

  4. Hi Art—yeah, what Kassie said.

    I too have wondered why YOU aren’t the one trying to get pregnant. I’ve been able to get my A1cs down to effing *unbelievable* levels before and during the trying to conceive business. I’ve been able to do it, through testing all day long and correcting all the time and by eating pretty healthily (which you’d do anyway if you were the pregnant one).

    I’m not sure what the deal is with my reproductive issues, but diabetes-wise, my A1c is better than most non-diabetics’. Would you ever consider trying pregnancy yourself, particuarly if you’re strongly feeling like adoption isn’t for you? Is it just the diabetes, or is there something else? (And heck, I don’t mean to pry. If it’s something else and you don’t care to share, tell me to MYOB.) And if it’s just the diabetes, really, email me any time. Heck, email me and I’ll call you back anytime to tell you what I know about getting the A1cs in gear.

  5. No assvice here, just a great big dose of empathy.

    Good luck, and I hope you find a way to get a lot of this pain out, so it doesn’t consume you.

  6. thank you for your post

    i can’t find the enthusiasm for adoption international and domestic i have an old post somewhere about why.

    My thoughts are with you

  7. Your reasons for not wanting to adopt were mine. Before I was ready. The thought of a pregnancy I could be in charge of, that I could choose, was my biggest motivation for trying. It was also a very queer motivation, knowing what roadblocks lie ahead, the levels and layers of stupidity, lies and misconceptions that you have to peel through are so. completely. f-ked.

    I know you want it to stop hurting fast and get on with it, tick tock and all that, but the grieving process is in charge right now.

    Please write one depressing post after another. Please don’t rush it or try to tell us something PC about adoption, don’t give in to pressure that feels wrong, don’t be fine fine fine. Much as it sucks ASS, you have to be where you are to get wherever you are going.

    I wish I could make it better.

  8. it all sucks. every bit of this process.
    thinking of you…

  9. Hi Lyrehca and Kassie –

    Thanks so much for your support. If I do decide to try this, I’ll definitely take you up on it!

    In the meantime, I have a bunch of reasons for not trying to get pregnant. One of them is simply that it always just seemed far more complicated than I really wanted to bother with, especially when there was another willing uterus in the mix. I don’t have any yearning to BE pregnant. Despite the fact that you’re far more likely to see me than P. in a dress, she has always wanted to do this and I’ve always wanted to see her do it.

    I am leery of pregnancy for a lot of reasons. I don’t if I could live with myself if something went wrong with the baby and there was even the iota of an idea that it was my fault – was it that one time that I went high? I’m nervous that putting that stress on my body will bring on complications. And I’m very leery of PPD, given my history. I’ve struggled with depression for a long time, and I’ve struggled with a depressed mother for my entire life. I know how bad it can get.

    The issue with me and my AICs is that I know what I need to do. And I have a REALLY hard time doing it. Right now for example. I woke up this morning at 77. Yippee. (I was 368 last night, but we won’t talk about that). I ate my yogurt for breakfast, and decided to wait a few minutes to take my humalog so that it wouldn’t get in before the yogurt. It’s now about 120 minutes later and I still haven’t taken the shot. Do I know what I should have done? Absolutely. Can I make myself do it? Sometimes. Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

    xo Art

  10. Thinking of you. It does really suck.

  11. ((((((()))))))
    I’m thinking of you.

  12. I don’t have positive things to say only that it really sucks. It is hard to think positive when you are sad or angry or depressed.
    This is not going to help probably but I will say it anyway, as a pumper for a relatively short time (2years).
    I always said I would never have children b/c of all of my “issues”, mostly T1 but others as well. When I got a little older that seemed to change for some reason and I got the itch though I have always loved kids. I was like you in that I knew what I had to do diabetes wise, I just didn’t do it. I knew I needed to “shoot up”, I would just forget or get busy or whatever my excuse was. A1C sucked big time.
    Then I decided that if I ever wanted to try to get pregnant I need to get my crap in order and so I went on the pump, not happily I might add but in order to get my “D” in check. My numbers my first A1C went down by 4 WHOLE POINTS. I know many don’t have such a dramatic drop but I had a long way to go.
    It didn’t resolve some of my other issues but who is perfect anyway. And it certainly didn’t make my pregnancy situation perfect either as I am sure you know but it at least gave hope.
    And come on EVERY woman has the fear I think that they might possibly do something that could harm their baby. It’s normal not just you.
    YOU CAN DO IT. You may not chose to try but know that you could have a healthy pregnancy just like hundreds of other T1’s. It’s something to think about…
    In the mean time have some mac n’cheese for me!!!

  13. Art-sweetie,
    You are so eloquent about all the above and I want to tell you, I understand all this. I think there’s something about a lesbian or gay couple that decides to do the adoption thing that is in some ways harder– precisely because it often involves going back into the closet– and their seperate closets, which is really the pits. Not fun.

    I also want to tell you, I completely identify with the seventh grader blogger feelings. And then I groan with myself– Do I really want to go back to seventh grade? I hated seventh grade.

    All my love.

  14. (o)

  15. you are SO entitled to ALL of those feelings.

    And yes, I TOTALLY feel like blogging is VERY akin to 6th grade popularity, too.

  16. Write as many damn depressing posts as you need to – this is your space! The only reason they are depressing to any of us because we want so badly for you & Pili to be able to have a baby hte way you want to. Your writing is wonderful and eloquent.

    Due to my having diabetes, and some issues on his side, my husband and I have pretty much ruled out having kids the regular way. We have been saying that we will adopt and we will not be super picky about age etc. and that is how we will have kids. I have never pictured myself pregnant, it’s just not somethign I have pictured for myself and I don’t think there is any way I could keep my diabetes under good enough control for that. Lately, though I have been really feeling like I want a baby of my own…I just don’t think I could be pregnant as you say. So I get where you are coming from on that front.

    I will keep my eyes open for babies and if I find a couple of them I will drop one in your lap.

  17. I second Sue on this one.

    Also, who in their right minds can handle a loss like you just had and then start almost immediately down a different path with great enthusiasm? Only a Stepford wife. Adoption is HARD – not harder than any other way, just hard. And it’s even harder when it looks like what it could look like for you and Pili.

    Something that looks terrible an painful now might look different in a while, and if it doesn’t, then that tells you something too. Hang in there, my dear.

  18. ((((o)))))

  19. Oh, Art-Sweet, I’m so sorry.

    As for blogging and 7th grade…..yes yes yes. I try so hard to rise above. Especially since I teach ’em. (7th grade I mean.)

  20. I’ve been hesitant to post on this subject, but some of the things you said mean that I can’t keep my mouth shut. (Me. Go figure.)

    As a lot of other people said, you have every right in the world to be pissed off, sad, depressed and whatever else you’re feeling right now. You’ve just had a really devastating thing happen to you and by trying to bounce up, Tigger-like, and move on to your next project. It’s been over two years since I had a miscarriage and I STILL grieve over it. So take your time, wallow, if you need to. Do whatever you need to do because it’s your grief and you are entitiled to handle it however you want.

    On to the mother-guilt thing. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are ALWAYS going to feel guilt over something related to your child. I don’t have any adopted children, so I can’t say for sure, but I’d imagine that holds true for them, too. I feel guilty because O has diabetes, because A has depression issues, because Boo fell and bumped her head. It’s constant. It’s like having your mother, your Jewish grandma, your old-lady Italian neighbour and Sister Joanne of the Order Of The Penitent, Guilt-Ridden Tears Of Holy Mary living inside your head. All. The. Time.

    I guess I’m saying, just don’t make any rush decisions right now. Let all this stuff settle a bit before ruling out anything.

  21. Art-Sweet …

    I agree with Kassie as far as you maybe being the one who experiences the pregnancy. I’ve known way too many diabetics who have carried successfully and maybe it would be an option you two would talk about soon.

    And as far as writing “depressing posts,” you should write whatever you damn well please. As another commentor said, this is your space. You write what you want. Your readers will continue to read because we just care so much about you and Pili.

    Chin up, if you can, and remember that we’re all here for you, as best we can be.

  22. We’re in the same boat ref: adoption, except we’re totally chickening out on it. Kudos to you girls for pushing forward despite the horrific obstacles, and the awful pain of having a beurocratic process put up false walls of division in your family. That sucks hard. *hugs*

  23. same boat = feeling overwhelmed by the big loads of sucky bullshit, and money, involved in adoption

  24. Oh Art-Sweet. Just got back from vacation and checking in with you. I’m glad that you and Pili are gone to the mountains. I’m hoping that some of the clean mountain air can help with some healing, my heart is breaking for you two.


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