The Waiting Game - Again!

     So, I have not had a chance to call and make an appointment with the new infertility doctor yet. I will get around to it, hopefully Monday morning. I did call the Social Security office (the national call number) and they told me I would need to call my local office. So, I called the local office and was told that they no longer send out the yearly benefits letter (which we could have used in place of the W2s) and in fact, this letter no longer exists. She said I would need to fill out paperwork and send it in with about $35, then wait 4 months to get the past W2s. I do not want to wait 4 months! I did look for our W2s and was only able to find last year's W2s. I have no idea where we (read Flaco) might have put them when we moved the desk to the basement about 6-7 months ago. I find this so frustrating! Something so stupid could hold us up for 4 dam months! And what the hell are my W2s from 10 years ago going to prove? I was in college, working as a waitress over the summer. Uh, $3,000 for a year is well below poverty, but I was still dependent on my parents. And, after college I went into the Peace Corps. Technically, I did not make an income (although the dam government did take taxes out of my resettlement allowance). Again, what does this freaking prove? Flaco only has W2s from the past 5 years because before then he was living and working in another country - to my knowledge Nicaragua does not have W2s. So, I am going to call the IRS number that I have and see if they can offer a faster return on the W2s.
     Today my mom gave me a name and a number to call to possibly get into an infertility experiment. It is being held at a hospital that is about an hour and a half away in Hershey, PA. They are studying hormones in the endocrinology department. I will give them a call on Monday to see if I could fit into the experiment, but more importantly, I would like more information. Yes, it would be nice to get free treatments, but I don't want to relinquish all the control related to treatment. I also don't want to feel like a lab rat.
     I am still not totally comfortable with adopting and pursuing infertility treatments at the same time. I guess it feels like we are just trying to get a baby by any means we can - I suppose, in fact, that is what we are doing. I just hope we are not shortchanging anyone in the process. I try to tell myself that we are just trying to put our eggs in more than one basket - literally and figuratively. Most days, it feels like we will simply never be parents. . . . .

Latest and Greatest

     Yesterday I had a second appointment with the "new" doctor where my mom works. It went much better, in terms of how I felt when I left, but I am still wondering what on earth I am doing. The doctor said that because I have already been on Clomid for six cycles, without much luck, he really didn't feel comfortable in having me do another cycle with it. He feels I might need a stronger drug to induce ovulation. Of course, he still thinks it's a good idea for me to lose weight (duh!) but even that is not a guarantee to ovulation (believe it or not, there are thin women who have PCOS). And, because I am now 30, the doctor thinks we should get a little more aggressive with treatments before we need to start fighting the clock as well. So, he referred me to a different infertility doctor (who's name is dangerously similar to the previous infertility doctor I saw). I explained my concern about the financial costs of infertility treatments because my insurance does not cover a dam thing. I know from the previous infertility clinic that even an IUI treatment can cost well over $2,000. The doctor said he understood and he would write a letter to the new infertility doctor and "work something out" with him - I have no idea what this means. I will call and make an initial consultation with the new infertility doctor. From what Dr. F said, I'm fairly certain he will want to do a more thorough semen analysis - which I'm not sure Flaco will go for. He hated it so much the first time and he told me he does not want to spend any more money on trying to have a baby. I don't know. I don't really think my heart is in it anymore. Not that I don't want a baby more than anything. Not that I wouldn't love to be able to have all the experiences that go along with having a biological baby. But, I think I am just trying to protect myself. I feel like we have really been through the ringer with all that has happened in the past two plus years. I just don't know if I want to go there again, to truly believe that anything I do will make a difference and result in having a baby.
     Things are progressing with the adoption process. I need to find our W2s because it will take at least 4 months for the IRS to get them to me. Plus, it will cost me about $35. We will be seeing the doctor Tuesday morning for our TB tests and physicals, not to mention the drug tests. Flaco wrote his autobiography - or well, he dictated it to me and I edited some of it (let's be real, Flaco is not much of a writer and so if we want this thing to get done, it falls to me). So, once I find the dam W2s, I will get the cats to the vet and we will be all but done! I am excited to think that we could be getting a match so soon, although I think it will take longer than I had hoped to get matched. I truly hope we get a baby, an infant - but I think I would be happy just to have a child in our home.
     Random side note - I was at the grocery store last week and I needed to buy some pads :( and it occurred to me that the pads we right across from the baby diapers and next to the baby food. I don't know if I didn't notice it before because it is different in other grocery stores (I don't always go to the same one), but I found it to be very disheartening. Here I am, on my period and thus clearly not pregnant as I would like to be, and I need to buy pads across from the diapers I might never need. I try not to let myself think of these things because they happen more often than an infertile thinks they can stand and it drives me to the ugly place of "why me!" and I don't want to go back there.
     Today I was supposed to go to a friends baby shower, but I conveniently got bronchitis, so I can let myself off the hook and not go - I mean, I wouldn't want to give my friend bronchitis in her final two months of pregnancy. I will take her the gift personally at some point and send her an apology text, citing my illness and not wanting her to get it. I want to be a bigger person, but I am not feeling 100% and I am not sure I would be able to withstand all the ooo-ing and ahhh-ing today. So, I will beg off. That's not too mean, is it?

Home Inspection

      We had quite a whirlwind weekend! On Friday, I left work early because I was translating a wedding ceremony at the local courthouse for a friend of mine. She was marrying her fiancé, who arrived a few weeks ago from Columbia (so, they only had 90 days to get married). After the brief ceremony, I rushed home to meet a friend to head about and hour away for a Mary Kay training event. When I got back to my car, I saw I had a message on my phone. It was Consuelo from CHOR. She discovered that I had off from work on Monday (10/10) and would it be ok for her to come then for our home visit, rather than the following Monday (10/17) as originally planned. Sure! What horrible timing! I was gone Friday night and didn’t get home until around 6 pm on Saturday. I was home for a few hours and then went to my Columbian friends place to celebrate her nuptials. I spent all day Sunday cleaning, but really only managed to get the office-now-baby’s-room cleaned and organized. Yesterday Flaco and I got up early to finish cleaning and complete some of our paperwork. We did not eat breakfast and ordered Chinese delivery and had just finished our paperwork when Consuelo got there at 2 pm. She was with us for 3 hours. She finished our interview and asked us specifically what kind of child we would or would not accept. Here are some interesting things I discovered:
      1) Flaco has wanted to be a father since he was 17 years old – or at least that is what he told Consuelo. (I suppose that is not such a shocking thing for a young man living in Nicaragua – an American the same age would be doing everything he can NOT to become a father at 17).
      2) When asked what gender and age we desire for our child, Flaco answered without hesitation, “a four-month old girl.” I had no idea he wanted a girl. Of course his answer was too specific, so we agreed upon any gender from 0-3 years old.
      3) When filling out our paperwork there was a question about who we were closest to in our family. I answered my sister and expected Flaco to answer his brother closest to his age. Instead, he said his 21 year old sister, M. 

     So, after our extensive interview, Consuelo walked through our (very, very clean) house. We mostly passed with a few minor, easily correctable things. We didn’t hang our fire extinguisher (which we got at Wal-Mart for $40), mostly because I think it is unsightly, but we will hang it up. We got a new (used) dishwasher but when Flaco put it in place it leaked, so he needs to fix it. The front is off of it, revealing all the wiring, which is a hazard but of course we don’t plan on letting it that way. The child proofing we did to the cabinet where we keep our cleaning supplies is not sufficient, so we need to get another one (and I wonder how long it will take us to get used to the baby proof locks – all day yesterday we would tug on the door, only to have it fwap back into place due to the lock!). Also, we need to lock the cabinet in the bathroom where we keep our hair and shaving supplies. All of our smoke alarms work and we have a sufficient amount. We have all the electric sockets plugged with these dam plastic things I can never get out! I felt bad that we didn’t get all of our paperwork in order before Consuelo came over and when I told her that, she said that we are moving along so quickly and that we are very good about getting our paperwork done and handed in to her. We still have to get the cats to the vet and we need to finish our autobiographies, plus I have to find the dam W2s! Consuelo said we can use the annual letter we get from the Social Security office – I’m fairly certain that if I ever got those, I threw them away because I didn’t know what they were. I went on the Social Security website and there is a number I can call to get a form to fill out and request this information. I wonder how long that will take? But, it sounds like once this paperwork is through, Consuelo will come back to our place and we will be officially approved.  I am so ready to have a baby in our home. I pray that we will be matched with a baby that just immediately feels like ours.

     On Friday my friend at work found out she is going to be a grandmother again. Her daughter is pregnant again. Her first baby was born early and only weighed 2 pounds. The baby is doing very well, but she is still a little behind in her development for her age. They are worried that the moms condition (I’m not really sure what it is) might cause another premature birth, so she will see a specialist for her entire pregnancy. My co-worker received this news while at work and of course I over-heard her call because my desk is near hers. After the call, she came over to me to get a hug. I was fighting back the tears, but I managed to give her a hug and congratulate her on this news. I wonder if I will always feel that twinge when someone else gets pregnant? I hope not. I hope that I will feel an immense overwhelming joy at being a mother, regardless of the process to get to that point. I hope we are offered an infant and I do hope we get a girl, although I would be just as happy with a little boy. 

     So, as I am slowly revealing to people that we are adopting, I am beginning to despise the response, “That’s so great!” While, yes, it is great that we are a loving couple looking to bring a child in need into our lives, this “greatness” fails to acknowledge all the pain and suffering we have endured to get to this point. It was not great to make this decision because we are not able to conceive a biological child. It was not great going through so many tests and procedures and enduring months and months and months of semi-hopeful waiting. It’s not the other person’s fault. Most healthy people don’t think of infertility. In fact, some staggering statistic (don’t ask me where I got it, I can’t remember) states that 1/3 of all pregnancies in the U.S. are unplanned (has no one heard of birth control?!). But, it does not feel great to be at this point of infertility limbo and adoption purgatory. We are not actively pursing pregnancy, yet we are not officially waiting to adopt. We are stuck. But, at least no one has said, “Gee, why would you want to do that?” when I reveal we will be adopting. I wonder if I will ever truly “get over” this whole infertility thing? I hope we are matched quickly! January will mark three years since we made the decision to toss the birth control and start trying to have a family. It seems so much longer than that. I feel like I can’t hardly remember a time when we weren’t trying to have a baby. Hopefully the waiting will end soon. . . . .   

Interviewing Skills for Babies

Last night we had our interview with Consuelo at CHOR. She asked us questions about our families, extended family, education, our childhoods, how we met, our greatest strength as a couple, how we handle fights and disagreements, and if we would be willing to accept a child in legal risk (meaning, they are not 100% ready for adoption, but it is a high probability they will be -  this option would give us the greatest opportunity to get a baby rather than an older child or teenager). We were at the CHOR offices for over 2 hours and didn’t even complete all of the questions. We did set up our home inspection for 10/17. Below, I have listed what else we need before we are officially approved:
     - We both need to complete our autobiographies – mine is nearly done (I need to edit it because it is too long) and Flaco has not even begun his and now he has two weeks. I am not supposed to write it for him.
     - We were given another form to fill out by the home visit and we need to write up a fire escape plan.
     - We need our W2’s from the past 10 years – Yikes! My parents did my taxes until after I came home from the Peace Corps, so at most I will have the past 4-5 years. Flaco has only been in the country for 5 years (or it will be 5 years the day after our home inspection on 10/18). Consuelo will check on how to handle Flaco’s situation. I hope I can find all these W2’s!!
     - We need copies of our car and home owner’s insurance (this is the easiest thing!)
     - We both need physicals, which Consuelo will set up with their doctor after the home visit (bleck!).
     - We need the most recent vaccination records for the animals. This means, we need to take the cats to the vet for their vaccinations and I need to check on Canela (the dog) to see if she is up-to-date (I’m pretty sure she is, we took her in last December for her shots).
     - We need to have all the things done in the house, like a 5 lbs fire extinguisher, covering the electric sockets (this we have done), have fire alarms on all floors (we need to put batteries in the ones up-stairs and we need to get one in the basement), all cleaning products and chemicals should be locked up or put up high or put in the basement, all medications must be under lock and key, we need to get the room cleaned out for the baby (we now have a pack-n-play purchased from someone at my work, a pink covered car seat and walker given to us by a friend of a friend from work, and we picked out a convertible crib that my mom will purchase for us  - it also has an attached changing table/night stand). 

     So, that is all that stands between us and our baby. I am freaking out about the W2’s and the animal vaccinations. Most everything else I think we can handle. I hope Flaco will take his autobiography seriously and actually write it. I think it would be ok if he dictated it to me and I type (read – edit) it. At one point Consuelo did tell me it needs to be in English, which Flaco will not be able to do. Oh, well we will figure it out! But, until we get the final stamp of approval, I think I will be in freak-out mode! I just want us to be approved without any lingering issues. I want to get us on the list so that our baby gets to us sooner, rather than later. I am not letting myself get too excited because I feel like we still have a long way to go in this process. 

     On Sunday, after my parents got done at the local out-door market (my father grows and sells organic poultry and eggs and my mom helps him at the out-door street market on Sunday’s), my mom and I went to Baby’s-R-Us to look at cribs. We found one at a local  department store that was on sale along with a changing table and a little dresser when we were out shopping Friday night. This set is a cheaper quality and my mom was worried it would not hold up. So, at Baby’s-R-Us we found a convertible crib that has a changing table attached, better quality and a little more expensive. My mom wants to purchase this item for us. I know the second we know what age and gender child we will be getting, she will be out buying baby clothing like there is no tomorrow. My mom is so ready to be a grandmother. She wants to spoil this kid rotten. I did much better at Baby’s-R-Us than I did at the consignment sale last week. I did not freak out, but I still felt out-of-place and somewhat detached. The store wasn’t very full and I arrived there before my mom, so I walked around looking at the cribs and the adorable blankets and sheets and wall coverings. I thought wistfully of how different it might have been, if we were having a baby and could joyfully pick out all the cute little items we wanted for a registry. But, I concentrated on what we need, which is a crib/toddler bed for the baby. Consuelo said it was not necessary to have these things for the home visit, just so we can get them when she calls us with a placement, but I will rest easier knowing we are prepared. 

     Yesterday, my friend Sara from work (she has almost completed the adoption process for her little girl – she was the one who suggested CHOR to me), had a friend looking to give away a baby car seat and a walker. Both are covered in bright pink fabric. How could I say no to something free? So, I have the car seat in the back seat of my car. Because we were in a hurry when I got home from work yesterday (I got home around 4:45 and the interview was at 5), we did not remove the car seat from my car. It is so strange to see it there. The walker and pack-n-play are in the trunk of my car (with my birthday balloons, which I forgot to take inside). I feel like things are all upside-down and sideways. We have these random baby items, but don’t know when (or, at this point IF) we will be having a baby. It almost seems like a tease; we have things that remind us of babies, but we do not have a baby. 

     Flaco is worried about the “legal risk” situation. He is worried that we will have a baby placed with us and after a year or more the adoption will fall through and we will need to give up the baby. Consuelo admitted that this could happen and suggested Flaco prepare himself for that. I know that Flaco has worried about loving and getting attached to the baby – he fears he won’t be able to because the child is not his by blood. In fact, it took Flaco a long time to decide he was ok with adoption to begin with, so I know he is fearing falling in love with a child that might be taken away. I told him we need to just rely on God on this one, because it is something that is entirely out of our control. I know we have both experienced a lot of loss through our struggle with infertility – not that we had any miscarriages or anything, but the loss of our dreams of having a biological child was hard enough to bear. I pray that we have paid our pound of flesh, so-to-speak, and the adoption process will be as easy as the infertility struggles have been hard. I guess we will find out, one way or another. . . .  

Birthday Blues

     So, yesterday my mom and I went to a Just Between Friends consignment sale event in town. I know there are a lot of items I cannot purchase right now (like a car seat or clothing) because I do not know the age of the child we will be adopting. But, I thought I could at least get a crib. So, I was a little late getting there and my mom was waiting impatiently. She was pissy because she had to wait for me. So, we were starting this adventure off on the wrong foot. She snapped at me about being late and that they were letting people in earlier (to which, I said we were not allowed in until 5 and it was only a few minutes after 5, but she insisted that was not true – whatever). We were there as first-timers for the pre-view sale, so it was not a crazy mob like it will be this afternoon and tomorrow. Outside of the main room there were strollers and car seats. Inside the large warehouse were the other items. Rows upon rows upon rows of clothing. Many tables of toys. Bouncy seats, high chairs, pack-n-plays, infant items, etc. And, a sea of pregnant bellies. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me ahead of time, but literally everyone (except me, my mom and some of the other grandma’s) was visibly pregnant or carrying an infant. I had a visceral reaction when I stepped inside. My eyes welled up with tears, my throat tightened, my stomach clenched and I wanted to run screaming for the car. I had a “what-am-I-doing!!” thought. I literally felt ill, dizzy even. I felt like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for air and flopping futilely on the ground. “I do not belong here,” I thought to myself. I have never felt like such an interloper in my life. I knew, at any moment, someone would call me out as a fake. What was I thinking? I don’t belong in the mommy club. 
     I fought through these feelings and stumbled after my mother to the area where it looked like they had cribs. Instead, there were bassinets and changing tables. They had toddler beds but no cribs. We searched in vain for cribs and my mom kept pointing something out that I “might” need, but “you don’t know because if it’s a toddler, you won’t need it.” I felt like Hester Prynne, shamefully wearing my scarlet letter for all the world to see. We left empty handed and I cried all the way home.
     My 30th birthday is in two days. My period is due in two days. I’m not sure which I am dreading more. I thought, rather than sit home alone and feel sorry for myself, I would invite out all my favorite people to a local tapas lounge to hang out for my birthday. Really, I was hoping my sister and mom would throw me a huge birthday bash, but that was wishful thinking. So, apparently everyone and their mother is getting married this Saturday. I know at least 5 people I invited who are going to a wedding. Others simply cannot make it (and I know some friends who are far away cannot make it but I already knew they could not, I just wanted them to know they were special to me by sending them the invitation). I am thinking about canceling the whole dam thing and reverting back to my original plan of extreme intoxication in the solitude and comfort of my own home. I don’t want to be thirty. I feel like I have relatively little to show for the 30 years I have been on this earth. I know celebrating another birthday is better than the other alternative. I know some friends who would have loved to see their brothers celebrate their 30th birthdays. But, I am struggling so much with this birthday. Everyone well over 30 makes light of how I feel. “Oh my god! Thirty is no big deal!! Wait ‘til you hit 50!” or “Thirty is still so young!” Great, these things do not make me feel any better. I wanted to have at least one baby before my 30th birthday. I wanted to be living in my “forever” home – a house I didn’t plan on leaving, with plenty of room for several children and space galore. I thought I would be making more money and have a higher position in my career (that has more to do with the lousy economy) or at least have figured out what I want to do with my life. I am just simply down in the dumps this year. And, I stupidly thought that gathering the people I love around me, would help to ease my birthday distress. Instead, I feel like a heel. And, as childish as it might seem, I feel very unloved and unimportant to the people I consider important in my life. I feel like there is simply no point in even trying to get out of this funk. I mean, even my own husband can’t come! (It is impossible for him to get off of work on a Saturday night). No body likes me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat some worms.
     This afternoon, after work, I am getting a hair cut. My hair (when pulled straight) is nearly to my waist. I have been growing it out for about two years so that I can donate it to Locks of Love. Initially, I was going to wait to cut it when I got pregnant, but since that is not happening anytime soon, I decided it’s time for the hair to go. My hair is very thick and hard to manage because it is somewhat curly and mostly frizzy. It takes a whole lotta hair gel to keep my hair in place. And it’s so long, that I can’t really even straighten it with the flat iron. So, tonight I am getting it all hacked off. I don’t really like my hair very short because I have a more round face, but it is for a good cause. But, my hair grows fast, so it won’t be short for long. I have done this once before. After college and before I left for the Peace Corps, I got all of my hair cut off. My hair then wasn’t quite as long as it is now, so the new ‘do ended up being just below my ears. I think the cut made me look really young, and not in a good way for a recent college graduate. It was easier to take care of, giving myself bucket baths in Nicaragua, but it was also very, very hot because I could not pull it all back off of my neck. I am thinking about getting a more funky hair cut this time. I am nervous about the new hair cut because I don’t want to hate it (especially, considering how I am already so miserable about my birthday). I guess I will have to wait and see. I trust my hair dresser, she does a good job. And, I have looked at pictures, but I don’t think I want to take one to her because last time I did that (I was in 4th grade) I got a modified mullet (business on top, party in the back). And it’s hard to tell what would work for my hair, because I don’t have 15 hair stylists doing it for me every day. And I have thick, semi-curly hair, so some of the choppy styles won’t work unless I straighten it every day, which is futile when it is humid or rainy (which pretty much describes the month of September with all the rain and flooding we’ve been getting). I think, in some aspects, the hair cut signifies getting rid of some of the dead weight in my life. I am not one who frequently waxes philosophical, but in this instance, cutting my hair just before a birthday I have been dreading, might help me to cut out the feelings of inadequacy in my personal life. It’s like my own private make-over, outside and (hopefully) inside as well. 
     So, on Saturday my mom and sister and I are going to get pedicures, then go to the mall. There is a department store where my mom said she has seen convertible cribs (apparently, she has been looking at cribs since last year – for the love!). With my sister along (my sister is 5 years younger than me and her main concern right now is getting ahead in her career and getting her boyfriend to propose – she is really not into the baby “thing”) this should be interesting. I just hope it is a more fruitful endeavor than yesterday.

Final Training

     Yesterday (9/24) Flaco and I had our third and final training at CHOR. It was shorter than the other two and we finished early before lunch and at the end of the day. We learned about the different mental illnesses the children in foster care might have and what the symptoms are and what treatments might be used to help them (by professionals, of course). Then, in the afternoon we learned about what happens if a child accuses a foster family of some wrong-doing (like hitting them or neglecting them) and how to avoid such accusations. The last part of the day was Consuelo asking two women in the training, who are already foster mothers, various questions about their experiences.
     After the lunch break Consuelo scheduled an interview with me and Flaco for Monday, October 4th at 5 pm. I am not sure what she will be asking us or what we will be talking about, but it is the next step. At that appointment, we will then schedule our home inspection. Which means we need to get our crap in order and like now!
     I was talking to my friend from work about what we need to get for our baby, as far as furniture. She recommended just getting a crib,a pack-n-play, and a dresser and that is pretty much it, until we know more about the age and gender of our baby. In addition to that we need other things, like cabinet locks and a place to lock up our medicine. And we need to move things out of the room to make space for a baby.
     I don't know why, but for some reason I am really nervous about the interview. I am terrified, in fact. I have been having nightmares that they will not "accept" us as adopting parents - that we will be denied for some random reason and NEVER NEVER get a baby. This started Friday night. After the terrible doctor's visit. So, hopefully the interview will calm my nerves. We will have to see. . . . .

Right Back Where We Started

     I went to see Dr. F. today, in the office where my mom works. It was a mistake. I suppose I was hoping that finally someone would be willing to help me. To figure out why I am not getting pregnant - the whole story. I want to figure everything out. That is not what happened. What did happen makes me feel even more hopeless and sure we will never have a biological baby.
     So, the doctor had me explain what other doctors have tried. He mentioned that my hemoglobin was high and when I asked what that meant, he said my body can hold a lot of oxygen. I have no idea what that means. He said my blood pressure was a tad high, which I said always happens at the doctor's office. Most of the time I was with the doctor, he talked about losing weight. He didn't ask me about my irregular periods. He didn't care that the nurse documented that I pass clots sometimes as large a half dollars during my period. He didn't really seem concerned about the spotting sometimes a week or more before my period. And he did not do an exam (which, actually I was glad about, since I have a head cold and feel worse that 3 day old shit). No, he just kept harping on my weight. Hello! I know I am fat. I have a mirror in my home. I have known I need to lose weight since I was a chubby kid - the only girl wearing a bra in third grade. If I had a dime for every person who felt it was their job to tell me I should lose weight, I would be so much prettier if I'd lose weight, I'm fat, I'm too heavy, I'm undesirable because I am not at a weight that is "normal," I have such a pretty face to be so over-weight, for every backhanded compliment like "you should be a plus-sized model" - if I had a dime for every time I have looked in the mirror and tried to imagine how I would look if I were thinner, for years of hating, loathing, and detesting my body, for every time I get so frustrated trying to find something to wear, for every pound I lost only to gain back. For the kids who tormented me about my weight in grade school. For the Nicaraguans who would ask, "You're so fat, arent' you?" For every time my husband suggests I should try herbal tea or diet supplements or some exercise equipment to lose weight. If I had a dime for every single one of these things, I'd have more than enough money to pay for IVF. So, now I can add to that list, the fact that I can't have a baby because I am too fat. The doctor actually suggested lap-band surgery. So, all the feelings of peace and over-coming the pain of not having a biological child - it's gone. I felt so terrible about myself, that I didn't eat a dam thing for dinner. I wish I had not gone to this doctor. And I am scheduled to go back in a month. For a weigh-in. Great.
     The doctor did put me back on Metformin - which I hate. My body never got used to it last time. I will fill the prescription on Monday. I will suffer some more or some ridiculous pipe dream that I don't even believe in. And I will try to lose weight. I will start walking and eating tiny portions. I will agonize about every morsel I put into my mouth. I will feel miserable and deprived and worthless. But, there really is no point. Now more than ever I don't believe I will ever have a biological child.
     So, tomorrow we have our third and final adoption training. Generally, I have looked forward to our trainings because it takes us one step closer to actually adopting a child. But, now I don't feel like doing a dam thing. I feel so disheartened. And the fact that I have a cold is not helping. And I was just beginning to get excited about adopting a baby. Next week my mom and I are going to a Just Between Friends event, where there are a lot of great gently used baby and children's items. I was really looking forward to it. Now, I don't really want to go.
     I am right back where I was so many months ago - hopeless, miserable, broken. And now, I can add self-loathing to the list. Dam it all to hell.