Sometimes I think writing can be really cathartic. Really healing. Being able to blog has been that way for me a lot of times. I actually love that most people I know personally don't read my blog. I hope that doesn't sound bad. It just helps me feel more free in what I write.
I'm feeling pretty shredded emotionally right now. Majorly defeated. It looks like we are not going to be able to do the adoption. Financially we are hitting a brick wall, and can't come up with the finances. I keep watching these old tv shows and movies, and these people who want children are given children. Given. They didn't have to pay $20,000 and have to endure being scrutinized to the point of insanity. I sure wish it was still that way. I have been going through every range of emotions. I feel guilt that Evie will not have any siblings. I feel sadness that we will only have one child. I feel frustration over my body, that it failed me. I hate the feeling of failure. I hate how people don't know things, and they make comments because they don't know. We always hear this from people when they see Evie: "Is she your only? Really?" I remember when we first moved to this area, and were living with my parents. Their church had Vacation Bible School, so we decided to take Evie to it. One of the workers came up to me later, and nastily asked, "Is she your only?" I said yes, and she proceeded to tell me how terrible I was for not having more children, and that if Evie had siblings she would be better at sharing. It was horrible. People don't know, so they make judgements. Jeff thinks I should just blurt out, "Well, she does have 7 siblings, but they all died". He said that would shut the people up. I haven't done that yet. I absolutely cringe when I get the "how many kids do you have" question. I bristle.
After trying to save and save for the adoption, and not getting anywhere, we started looking into embryo adoption. Embryo adoption is where we would adopt frozen embryos, and I would carry them like a normal pregnancy. I researched for weeks because the cost is a lot less than traditional adoption. The problem is that the success rate is only 26%. That is so low. After finding that out, Jeff and I talked about trying again. I started researching the genetic issue I was diagnosed with. It is called a Balanced Translocation (I'll call it BT to save typing). I called the genetic specialist we went to 11 years ago, and asked them to send me all the paperwork. Back when we got the diagnosis, not much was known about BT. Now there is a lot more information. I got my paperwork last week, and researched online all last week. I found that with the BT, most women on average lost 6-10 babies. Many times, a baby would implant and they would carry it, and it would be chromosomally unbalanced. After delivery, the baby would die shortly after birth. Some babies lived, and had severe problems. What got to me the most was reading about the babies that were "fine". I joined a BT board, and the women would excitedly tell about the babies that they finally were able to carry that lived and were healthy. Then they mentioned, almost like a side note, that their baby tested positive for the same BT they had. In other words, their kids were healthy, except that when they grow up and go to conceive, they (whether male of female) would have to endure the same horrible things that come with BT. Almost all the women who had healthy children said that their kids were BT carriers also. So besides all the horrors that could happen in a pregnancy with a BT, I would knowingly be risking putting my child through what I have gone through. That option flew out the window after I found that all out. Every time we turned to a different option, we have hit a wall.
Jeff was gone all last week on business. When he came home on Friday, we wanted to do something fun. We went to the mall, and went to a pet store. Evie played on the floor with the most adorable puppy ever, and I laughed and laughed. He was called a Havanese, and he was like a little bunny, hopping all around. The little guy brought me joy. Then Evie went on the bungie jumper at the mall. Have you all seen that? It is where they strap the kids into a harness, attached to all these bungie chords. Then they can jump on a trampoline and go about 30 feet into the air over and over again. Evie loves to do it. My little fearless child. She did about 20 flips. I couldn't watch. She had a blast. Afterwards, we went to a Japanese restaurant where they make your food in front of you. Jeff's company paid for it (they do that for the families after a long business trip). We sat at a table with total strangers, and the chef made the table light up in flames, and threw food at our plates. It was really fun, and the food was great. Afterwards, as we were leaving, everyone commented on how adorable and sweet Evie was (she was off looking at the Koi in the pond). People tell us that all the time. She is super outgoing, and well adjusted, despite not having siblings. That is a comfort to me. She said later that she had the "best day she has ever had". She says that a lot, so we must not be ruining her life by not having more kids. That comforts me too.
I am trying to come to terms with all of this. The hardest part is going to be telling everyone. The awkwardness of it all. We are going to give back the money that was donated, then that door will be closed. Amazingly, Evie is fine with all of it. I thought she would be heartbroken. She just wants a kitten. Her siblings will be furry and soft, and walk on 4 legs. I feel better just writing. Less heavy in the heart. I need to move on. I need to walk away from all this grief and sadness and loss that has enveloped me for all these years. Having more children is not going to be part of the picture for my life, and I need to be okay with that. I need to know that I am not a failure as a person. I need to know that having a child isn't what defines a person. I still have a lot to work through.