Well, all the meds are here, I'm finishing up my last few days of BCPs and my Baseline appt. is scheduled for Wednesday the 24th at 7:45 am.
I still cannot believe i'm actually doing this.....that WE are actually doing this. Granted, I'm doing the majority of the work but considering my husband will be administering 90% of my medications and putting up with my crazy hormonal ass, I think he deserves to be included.
This process has been a bit emotional for me and I can only imagine that its going to get worse. I'm going to dump all of my depressing stories on here right now so if you don't want to listen to all my woe is me complaining, please do you self a favor and come back another time.
In 2012, I lost my Mom. My mom is actually my grandmother who raised me. Those who know me well know that I call my grandmother my Mom and that lady who gave birth to me my "Mother",
Anyway, I lost my Mom to cancer back in January 2012. When we were doing all the doctors appointments and such back in 2009 she was great to talk to about everything. We had a
cancelled cycle and then
another before we were finally able to start and she was always there to listen. She may not have always understood what I was explaining but that didn't matter.
A little back story, one of the main reasons I wanted to hurry up and have kids was because of her. I wanted to make sure that my babies got to meet her. Sadly it did not happen as quickly as I wanted and as cruel fate would have it, she got sick right around the time J was born and was diagnosed 2 months later. She passed away when he was 18 months old.
In July 2014, my mother passed away. She battled with drugs her whole life. She was in prison for a few years from the time I was a toddler till I was in Kindergarten, had a few good years, gave me 2 brothers and then began her downward spiral all over again. At the time of her passing I had not spoken to her in almost a year. Not because of me but because she basically disappeared. When J was born I made a promise to myself to allow her to be a part of his life if she wanted. So long as she never messed it up by showing up intoxicated somehow or by hurting him in any way. My brothers and I were never enough for her to fix herself and apparently neither was her grandson.
She ended up overdosing on heroin and died July 11th. This was hard for me in a lot of way I never imagined it would be. I mourned not so much her death but the relationship we never had. I wonder if I will ever stop being bitter about not having a mother.
I'm not hopeful.
A about a month before my Mom died in 2012, my Dad (actually my grandfather) found out his prostate cancer has returned. He fought for almost 3 years and I lost him on August 7th, 2014. This was a little less than a month after losing my mother (his daughter).
The passing of my Dad while still hard because he was such a light in not only my life but everyone else's, was a little easier to swallow than losing my Mom.
My Dad was tired. He found a long hard road and when I got to see him the last few days he was on this earth I saw him fade away. He was done and I was okay to let him go. He needed to be with my Mom. We would all be okay. It would all be okay.
This is what I told myself. I would be okay.
The reality, is almost true.
I'm a lucky girl. I have a wonderful husband. He drives me crazy a good portion of the time but I love him more than he knows and I am thankful and blessed for the life we have together and the beautiful boy we made.
I struggle with the happy adult side and my inner child who just wants her Mommy & Daddy.
I knew that eventually, one day, I would lose my parents. I just didn't think it would be this soon. Especially when this part of my life, the part where I finally became a parent just got started.
I miss them. One of my biggest fears about this cycle and God willing having another baby, is not having them. Not having them to call whenever any of the kids* does something new or awesome. Not having my Dad call me and give me endless amount of child rearing information that he heard on TV or read in a magazine/newspaper which made me laugh hysterically every time because it was never anything truly useful. My Mom, who no matter how old I got still always made me feel like I was her baby, her voice was always the most soothing sound and 3 years later I still always want to call her to tell her things. There are moments that for a split second I forget that I can't.
Those moment while so very brief are so incredibly painful.
I try to imagine going thru all of this without her and it's hard.
Aside from my husband, I really don't have anyone else. My brothers are pretty much absent, they're in their early 20's so I guess I shouldn't expect much from them. My aunt is probably my closest "replacement" but she has a demanding job, a daughter of her own and my brother's live with her so she has her hands full. I only really talk to her about once a week IF that.
My best friend, if I can even really call her that any more filled up her house with babies and she's pretty much disappeared as well.
At the end of the day I'm really just grasping at straws because none of them are ever going to be a "replacement" for her.
So there it is.
It's a process, a struggle, in more ways than one but I'm going to make the best of it. I'm going to pray harder than ever and have faith that this will work.
I never imagined only having one child and I want my son to grow up with a sibling
I want him to have a best friend to grow up with & share secrets with.
So he is never left alone and will have someone that will be there for him when my husband and I are no longer on this earth.
Yes, he is healthy and happy and we are blessed to have him. But I'm not ready to give up on this dream yet. I'm not ready to let it go.
I will keep fighting until I have no fight left if it means making this possible.
