why is the sky blue?
Another month has gone by. It’s been nine months since Fionn died. He’s been dead longer than he was alive. I was so sure time would help me heal and work through grief, whatever, just not feel this incredible pain, loss, sadness. I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize me anymore. Where has she gone? The happ-ines-s? Instead this person in the mirror has such incredibly sad eyes. For the first time her face seems lined and aged. The steroids have made my cheeks puffy (only a little bit). Who is this woman? Is that me? Is that my life now?
I wake up and go through the rituals of morning and often, as the day progresses I start to slip towards the edge of the abyss. And unless I find something to busy myself with something that gives me a positive outlook or an activity that gets me moving towards a goal… I get sucked down. Today I thought I move forward by facing adoption. I have a list of web-links a friend gave me. So I decided to investigate. Working on the future. But it didn’t turn out that way. I got pulled over the edge of the abyss and started falling, falling, falling… by lunchtime I was sobbing and I was even more upset to load all my emotions onto John’s shoulders. I feel like such a drag. He is so busy trying to make our future and he is so positive, I don’t want to drag him down with me.
My health is returning but I am left with a liver that is damaged. The doctors are afraid to consent to anther IVF treatment, as the IVF drugs might be too much on my liver, they don’t know but it is a risk nobody can truly calculate to say, yes. And then another pregnancy is another risk for my life as well. And I spiraled into a profound sense of failure. And it ended with the ultimate question. Was it my fault, Fionn died? Am I not good enough to have a child? This line of thought was never part of me until I started to investigate adoption. You see when you want to adopt you have to pass a medical. And for some agency and countries you have to be of a particular (young) age, not going on 42. I am terrified of rejection. I have been tried by my life. It seems like such an irony to now be tried by the authority of an adoption board. So I feel another IVF cycle is the preferable option. It’s total crap. I’d rather risk my life than to beg some stupid social worker/institution to grant me a baby…
When you look into adoption, one of the questions you need to face is, why do you want to adopt? Why do you want a baby/child? That’s like asking, why is the sky blue? Why does the rain fall to the ground? Why does the sun get up in the morning? It is not because Fionn died. And it is because Fionn died. I don’t want to replace Fionn, no child could do that. I am mum but I also want to be a mum, actively. I want the job! I believe John and I would be great parents and it seems such a waste not to pursue that destiny of spending my time with child care and housekeeping. And even though it seems unnecessary to mention I want to make a particular point of the love, we have loads of it to share… an abundance of that stuff.
With every fiber of my being I fight the sadness and depression that grips me. I look into the future and see the brightness and beauty life has in store for me. Yesterday I watched “Changeling” I didn’t like the film much, I can’t recommend it. This woman looses her only child, Walter, and searches for him for years. She doesn’t give up hope. What inspires me is the happiness that returns to her despite her loss. And I wish I could fast forward to that point in time when I can be happy again. I drew a little sketch of my future so I can “fast forward”, John and I embracing two little children, a girl and a boy. We are a family. And I know and believe with determination and persistence I shall achieve/succeed. So I get up in the morning and keep searching for the things to do. In search of happ-ines-s. Each/one minute, hour, day at a time.
I feel a bit better now. Just pulled myself out of the abyss… Maybe I’ll do a bit of gardening now. Growing a garden as a part of growing our future.