Friday, November 7, 2008

Wow.

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I will reiterate that I have some of THE best friends in the entire world.

Pupil, is one of them. She comes over weekly to my house, with agenda in hand and we meet about adoption, we discuss adoption...among other things. She is the one who encouraged me to post every day for the month of November about adoption. Funny, when I woke up this morning and checked my blog almost around noon, I came and there were 21 comments. I was like, "WHAT?!" I didn't think the post was THAT grand...so I started reading comment after comment, then I got to anonymous...and then I saw mrs. r's comment, and then comment after comment from people I have met, most I have not...and tears rolled down my cheeks when I realized that these people had read the comment long before I had, they were on a mission to not let one person hurt another one of our sisters...sisters in blogland, sisters in infertility, sisters in adoption...

Every word in her post struck me...right down to the irony. She was at my home when I was writing the "Are you there God?" post. It was a tag team post. Brilliantly thought up and wonderfully executed. As I wrote it, I said over my shoulder, "You know what happened the last time I posted something this deep..." Well, I was so hurt and so crushed that I deleted the blog I had had for over a year. How utterly sad that was. How could I let one person dictate who I was?

Well, it won't happen this time. As you can see...just like me, there are HUNDREDS, and THOUSANDS of women and men who suffer with this particular trial.

You know what? The past three years of wanting another child have taught me, to love more deeply, to cherish EVERY moment because they are so fleeting. To suggest for even a moment that I am not thankful and grateful for what I have been given, it only proves that the person who tried to hurt me does not know me. Every night before I go to bed I spend a large amount of time by the bedside of my children. I hold their hands, I sweep the hair from their little faces, I cover them up...I kiss their cheeks. I recognize and realize that they may be the only children I ever get to have. I kneel down and thank my Father in Heaven for them, and because of the joy I have in them, that is the reason I want to be a mother again.

I want to thank EACH of you for your love and support yesterday. It meant so much to me. It brought tears to my eyes. Every comment touched my heart, if any of you are struggling through something similar, I encourage you to take the time to read each comment, because there is strength in not feeling alone. I will leave you with one particular comment that touched my heart especially, and in keeping with the spirit of the posting this month, I think it is perfect. Thank you Ashley.

I totally understand where you're coming from.I have a daughter through adoption.

I don't want another baby yet.

I am not ready to face my "broken" body again.

I want to feel normal.

I want to have just something, ANYTHING happen without a million pieces of drama, an ordeal or having to lay out my entire life history to the world.

I hate having no privacy.

I hate the fact that the events surrounding the birth of my daughter, and the 45 days afterwards, were spent in fear and pain, not joy. We never talk about it.

I hate the loss of the other children I'd hoped for. I had also envisioned myself with kids in a pew; four, to be exact. But it looks like two may be our limit. That kills me.

I hate that people don't try to understand. That you're told, "Be grateful." It's like being told, after losing your leg, to be grateful for the other one. It's not that you aren't grateful for your leg, your arms and every other appendage you've been given, but you still miss the lost leg.

Having to once again face your own infertility is just another reminder that you're a freak. You can't do what God designed you to do. If you can't produce children, then what good is having the instincts? It's being reminded of all the hopes and dreams you have had to let go of, ones you've probably had since you were a girl.

I love my daughter. I couldn't love her more if I'd made her out of playdough myself. I celebrate her adoption and I give myself major props for being able to pull off an adoption at the age of 24. But I still mourn that I couldn't feel her kick inside of me, I couldn't share seeing her for the first time with my husband. I couldn't look at her for months without feeling guilt and pain for her birth mother.

I would love to share the joy of being pregnant with my family.

And I mourn that I may not be able to.

And that's what makes me totally normal.




16 comments:

mrs. r said...

sensei, i guess you are calling me "pupil" now. i laugh.

yesterday was awesome. i have the best blog readers in the world. i have always said that. they are prolly all addicted to you and your bunk ovaries now. you need them. trust me. so mush of the "sheeee" of infertility and the unfairness of adoption as well as the joy thereof have been taught to me by my amazing friends in blogland. the salt of the earth.

the comments were unreal. i read every single one--mostly monitoring your site for another anon comment. i was so protective of you yesterday, sensei. it was wild. i am nothing if not loyal. and plus, i kinda felt responsible.

the comment that took me off guard and made me WEEP was jen's toward the end. i just kept thinking of your little one in heaven whispering to you, "don't forget about me, mama. it's not quite my time. i have a special mission at a special time. don't give up."

tears.

there are so many incredible people in this world. people with rich emotions who are willing to share their souls. genuine people.

enough to make you forget all about the anonymouses of the world.

love you, girl. i won't let anyone mess with my sensei.

besos.

mrs. r said...

but dood, you cannot tell people about the agenda. the secret will be out about how nerdy i am. i have a coolness reputation to uphold.

you are going to pay for that one.

blair said...

wait... i'm so lost, i thought em was bio yours? you are SO wise.

blair said...

I'm stupid.. I get it now. Sorry, it's a comment. Still. amazing.

Amy and Josh said...

oh Kim... That is so so frustrating that someone is trying to down play what you are going through. Kudos to Mrs.R for putting them in place!!

I CAN'T say I understand or that I know what you are going through, because I am clueless as to what PAIN you are feeling. But I do know that you and people like you who are sharing these deeply emotional issues in blogland are indeed opening the eyes of those like me-who need to be Extra grateful for the blessing of being fertile-and not going through the shiz of infertility.

Because of you and your stuggles I tried to expereince my last pregnancy with more gratitude-even my flubablub stomach that just can't seem to get tone again:)

I will never understand the Aching you feel-but I'm so glad you have such GOOD friends to stand beside you and strengthen you and who you can turn to. I Hope you will have another little one in your home someday!!

Thank you for sharing your story. You have taught me to be more AWARE of those who are hurting around me. To be MORE Sensitive and Compassionate to those struggling with this. Many hugs. Love you, you beautiful lady.

Amy said...

This: Every night before I go to bed I spend a large amount of time by the bedside of my children. I hold their hands, I sweep the hair from their little faces, I cover them up...I kiss their cheeks. I recognize and realize that they may be the only children I ever get to have. I kneel down and thank my Father in Heaven for them, and because of the joy I have in them, that is the reason I want to be a mother again.

Made me so sad. You are the best mother IN THE WORLD. If I could, I'd wish twenty babies for you. The pain of infertility is deep and harsh. I am so sorry that things keep working out the way they do. You are a wonderful and glorious person, and I love you very much.

P.S. You're so lucky to have a Mrs R in your life. She's pretty much the best.

Lace said...

First thing I thought when I came here this morning "ooo.. cool picture!" (Very cool, I like it a lot).

I didn't read all of the comments from below (anyone who knows me knows that would be impossible-I skim) but I did read HUBS. How cute is he? Protecting your honor! And he is so right that you are so loved.

I also caught part of a comment from Arianne wishing you peace. And I love that. That is the perfect wish for anyone. Peace encompasses it all. I think that is all any of us want in our lives.

I love the paragraph about bedtime. So sweet. So peaceful.

Great big loves from me,

Lacie

Dan and Wendy Babcock said...

I WISH Mrs. R was my friend. You ROC girl.

Kim, you are truly one of the most remarkable people I know.

You are of such great value to this world and to all those who can identify with your struggles. I wish I wasn't such a bum bum and would take myself Public. Oh well.

I AM interested in learning more. How should I begin to learn about the process of adoption? I will try to eventually adopt, you already knew that. I might as well get to learnin' right?

I sure miss ya!

Britney said...

Let's just I say I think I love you. It was love at first sight for us. Let's meet once a month as an "abnormal" girlie parts group. Then we can sit around and talk about our "brokenness" without any nameless people judging. What do you think? One of the best things about having my malfunctioning body it that I got to meet you!

And whose to say we aren't the "normal" ones, anyway?

ls said...

"The past three years of wanting another child have taught me, to love more deeply, to cherish EVERY moment because they are so fleeting. To suggest for even a moment that I am not thankful and grateful for what I have been given, it only proves that the person who tried to hurt me does not know me. Every night before I go to bed I spend a large amount of time by the bedside of my children. I hold their hands, I sweep the hair from their little faces, I cover them up...I kiss their cheeks. I recognize and realize that they may be the only children I ever get to have. I kneel down and thank my Father in Heaven for them, and because of the joy I have in them, that is the reason I want to be a mother again."

Made me cry. You are so pure in your love of motherhood and I can honestly say that I feel an ache right up in my throat when I think of the longing, wishing, praying, pleading, crying, promising, forgiving, enduring (etc. etc.) you must surely go through as you struggle to become a new mama again. oh, the pain of it all is so real even to me (and i don't know a hundredth of it, i'm sure).

i love your real words, and i love that the depth of your hunger to have another baby is so clearly evident through your gratitude for the babes you already have.

Carrie said...

Wow! Wow wow wow!

First off- I can't BELIEVE that someone would think you ungrateful! How ignorant and clueless that person must be! Those two kids of yours are so gosh darn loved by you that love drips from every inch of their little bodies! I'm proud of you for not letting some blood sucking parasite bring you down! You have too many other people who love you times a million to let that beasty person get under your skin! I love you!!!

Second- that comment was amazing!

I watched last weeks episode of House last night- the one where Cuddy is adopting a baby- and I BAWLED! I thought of you and how Hollywood could never capture what a woman goes through during a time like this! Your strength astounds me!

You're an awesome mommy, woman and writer!

Calli said...

I only have to say I'm glad that someone has the words to say what I have wanted to say. I'm in the same boat as Ashley. Not wanting to face the drama of it all again. I just hold on to my little angel and thank God for her birth mom. But at the same time a part of me wishes that I was the one that got to be excited that I was having her that she grew inside of me. That I got to be the first to hold her in my arms.

Thanks Kim for making it so I would read this comment. I usually don't have time to read the comments on everyones posts.

Joniece said...

Kim! i love you! just thought i'd let you know that.

Ashley said...

Wow you're sweet. Thank you. I had a horrible letter from a "friend" right after I got home from my interstate. It was along the same lines as 'anonymous.' I was stupid enough to almost let it get me. I was told I was ungrateful, I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to adopt (HA!!! HAAA!!!!) and I didn't deserve my daughter.

I get mad as a wet cat when someone accuses ANYONE in the adoption world or who's had a doctor look at them and utter the words "infertile" of "needing to count their blessings."

It's horrible.

Thanks for not thinking me a freak! :)

Ashley said...

I'd like to give you access to my blog. e-mail me ashley . rittman at gmail dot com

Amanda said...

I remember laying down on my bed after being told the boys younger siblings got ordered to reunification instead of the original Adoption. Which meant there was a possibility that the boys would leave us earlier than thought.

I was crying as all the original emotions of infertility started to get to me. I may never have children through birth or feel a baby growing inside of me. I want that so bad. I want to see the little one on an ultrasound and send a copy to all my friends.

There are so many things you feel you miss out on and the emotions of it can be overwhelming. My blessings get me through the emotions... but never could they stop them from being there in the first place. I am human. I am jealous of every baby announcement.

I explained to my husband the sorrow I felt for not knowing all the first moments of the boys, and how it hurts not knowing where they will go.

I'm sorry, I'm writing you a novel. It is this blog world that helps me realize I'm not alone. Thank you for being here.

Amanda