Moving on

 Still waiting for Aunt Flo to get her act together here – just random, annoying spotting. I will need to return to the office on day 2 or 3 of my cycle for yet another blood test and to get the tube-checking extravaganza scheduled and underway. And then? Who knows. I think we will try the Clomid again, with the metaformin and perhaps an IUI (turkey basting the little spermies up there). The office is checking if my insurance will cover a round of Clomid with an IUI (I know they don’t cover the Clomid, but that is not expensive). So, I am thinking this month is a dud. Perhaps we will be like all the little woodland creatures and get pregnant in the Spring – no, wait they have their babies in the Spring. . . . So much for that!
     I am trying to feel better about things and life in general. I had my mourning and then my hissy-fit and now I am moving-on. Before we started the treatments with the Infertility Doctor, I was in a better place mentally. I was able to let a glimmer of hope slip into my mind, but I always peppered it with healthy doses of reality. “It could happen this month, but you should not expect too much.” If I don’t let my hopes get too high, I can prevent the inevitable crash and burn of disappointment. This month, I let my hopes soar! I imagined going through the summer pregnant, telling people I was pregnant, and having my baby in my arms in time for the holidays. And when the reality arrived via spotting Friday night, I was hurtled back to the deepest depths of disappointment and despair. So, the way I see it, I have to squash the large quantities of hope that try to wiggle their way in at the beginning of the month; I have to forget there is such a thing as “the two week wait” and just expect that the results might not be what I want them to be. If I don’t get sooooo high on optimism then I won’t plummet so far into anguish. Simple infertility math. Now, to put it into action. . . .
     See, I truly want to be more optimistic. I want to think of myself as infallibly optimistic, but in this case I find myself left in excruciating pain if optimism doesn’t yield the outcome I desire. I want to be positive. I find it more helpful to be positive when I think “I will get pregnant, some day,” rather than, “I will get pregnant this month!” I guess because I believe I will get pregnant some day, and if I don’t get pregnant this month, I can still keep on believing the same thing. But, conversely, if I believe I will get pregnant this month and I don’t, then I feel like it is the end and we will never get pregnant, so what’s the point in hoping. I was reading a lot on line this past weekend and I found an article relating a study which discovered women who are struggling with infertility have the same levels of depression as someone with a terminal illness. I think it is the feeling of being so out-of-control over what is happening to or with our bodies, that causes such deep depression.
     So, Friday night (before my world came crashing down around me) I was out to dinner with a bunch of girlfriends from work. We were celebrating one of the women getting a new (better paying) job. I was talking to a woman who is the mother of 3 teenage sons (well, I guess the youngest is only 12). She has been a foster mother for 7-8 years and has had over 17 children in her home. She is now in the process of adopting one of her foster children – a beautiful baby girl named Ali. This friend does not know we are struggling with infertility, but I did let her know I would like to adopt someday, but my husband is opposed to this idea. She told me she recommends anyone thinking about adoption become a foster parent first because it gives you an idea of what it will be like. It is also possible to adopt a child you have been fostering and have formed a relationship with. I felt like this was a worthy cause to investigate. I presented the idea to Flaco Sunday night. His knee-jerk reaction was to reiterate his decision not to adopt and to nix the idea of foster care. I begged him to seriously consider it – as a way to help me. See, I think having a child to care for (we could not take a teenager in our home, just younger children or babies) would help me. I would have a child to mother, care for, clean up after, and love; even if it is briefly. Last night we were discussing this idea in more detail and Flaco said he doesn’t think he could do it because he would care too much for the child and it would hurt too much when the child is taken back to his/her family. I know that part will be hard, but I truly feel like this would help me to relax a little bit and not feel the affects of infertility so deeply and acutely. Our home would not feel so empty every month. Not to mention that there is such a need for good foster families and we would be doing something to help a child in need. Just having a new out-let of things to do and prepare for, will help me get my mind off of my broken girly parts; it will give me something to look forward to.
     So, I am asking any infertility sister out there: have you considered becoming a foster parent? If you are a foster parent, does it help like I think it might or hurt as much as Flaco thinks it will? I would love to hear personal stories of someone who has walked this path, if you are willing to share.