i haven't written in a while about how we are doing in dealing with trying to conceive and adopt; many of you have asked, and i haven't been very forthcoming about all the details and emotions of it. this is the best i can do.
we are good, but it's hard. that's the simple answer. the truth is much more complicated, of course.
there's no rule book for how this is supposed to go. there are no guidelines, no ten commandments of how to grieve loss and how to move on with hope without forgetting the past (actually, there kind of are...in God's Word... but they are not quite as specific as i would like for them to be sometimes). and so, despite being blessed beyond measure, i struggle.
i believe in life at conception. period. i believe the two babies that i have never met are in heaven with Jesus. period. i feel loss because they are not here. i can't explain that completely, but i love them, and i miss them. and that is hard. sometimes i feel like i should be completely over it all by now, but i'm not, and that's just the way it is.
we aren't pregnant. we wish we were. we are trying to be. and that's hard. i know in my head that it is all so very much beyond my control (which also thankfully means that it isn't my fault), but the way i feel is very different from what i know. i feel like i am letting my husband and family down. i feel like i am failing. there are a lot of options out there for people like us. there are medicines, herbs, tricks to try, and a boatload of procedures. some of them we are trying. some of them we are not. some of them we are still thinking about. all of our decisions are being made after prayer and much thought, consideration, and conversation. we are doing what feels right to us. and we will keep doing that until we are successful or until we can't do it anymore. this is a "God thing"; it's in His hands.
if i am honest, despite my beliefs in God's ability to work a miracle in our lives, i don't have a lot of hope for conception to work out. but that doesn't lessen my desire and it doesn't mean that we aren't still trying. i am afraid. i am sad. but i am not giving up. it hurts too much to talk about how badly we want to conceive. it hurts too much to go into detail about all the fears i have about the future if that happens. it is more than i can handle to delve into the what-if's, the maybe's, and the if-only's. so i don't. i don't talk about it a lot. i just can't do it. it's easier to pretend that it's all ok. it hurts to answer well-meaning questions. it hurts to hear advice from people who love us. it hurts to hear opinions, even when they are helpful. i can't explain that either, but that's just the way it is right now. so i avoid the conversations sometimes. or i give the easy answers that everyone wants to hear.
in the middle of it all is the beautiful hope of adoption. this, too, is hard, but it is a comfort to me. we don't know for sure that it will work out the way we hope, but in this situation, i do have more hope. it's not that it's easier (it isn't), or that it is a guarantee of us having a child (it's not). that's not why we have chosen that route. it's certainly not cheaper and it has its own set of complications and difficulties. but for us, adoption is also a "God thing". we feel led to walk this path. i have said that before, but it is good to remind myself of it. we hope to turn our paperwork in this month and begin the home study process. whatever the timing, we want the baby that God has chosen for us. in whatever way that is going to come to be. if it's not through adoption, then He will show us that. if it is, then He will continue to work in that way. if His plan is for us to not have a child, then He will pick up the pieces, as He is doing today, and He will put us back together.
until we have answers, i am doing the best i can. some days i cope better than others. am i handling it all the right way? maybe, maybe not. i don't know if there is a "right" way. i am handling it my way, the best i know how. i know it's not always effective. some of my strategies are steeped in self-preservation. some of them are just a way to deal with the pain. a lot of them are simply my response to fear and to sadness. it's not that i feel a need to have control of the situation (clearly, i don't actually have any semblance of control), but it's hard to know what to do in the interim time of trusting. it's hard to know what to do with the feelings. it's hard to know how to respond to people. sometimes it's hard to even articulate to myself how i feel.
that's how i am. that's where we are in the process.
we are good. but it's hard.
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