It's Still There

I have a secret, one that's not being spoken aloud but will surprise no one. That grief thing...it's still there. It hasn't left, hasn't magically disappeared. In fact, as we are in the heart of the holidays, the intensity is growing.

I don't mention it. Nobody asks me. My assumption is that everyone's assumptuon is that I'm finally beyond it. I haven't talked to anyone about it since the last time it shriveled me to a bawling mess. I tried to talk about it, but I was derailed by other stuff. Stuff that wasn't nearly as important. I know satan does his best to keep me from the healing that needs to happen.

Honestly, I think I would be much further along in this if I didn't have this huge decision looming over me.

Fertility treatment vs. no treatment and pursue adoption.

Both are scary.

My husband is ok with either decision. He will do whatever I want. He will give me the opportunity to have my hearts desire. The problem with that is the decision lands firmly in my lap.

I'm back and forth on it. One week, I want to move forward. The next, I am looking at all the kids who need adopted.

Here's the reality for us.

Financially, we can do one or the other. It will break us, but what value is money to us anyway? As long as we have the basics, money doesn't matter.

There is no guarantee with fertility treatments. My reproductive system is a mess. Even a little hope doesn't mean there's a guarantee. Years of abuse and neglect have left me with a variety of issues. We could dump our savings into treatment and walk away empty handed and broken-hearted.

It's very possible that I could conceive with or without treatment and continue to have miscarriages. Since Each one of those seems to be more difficult than the last, am I really capable of putting myself through that? I don't know.

I could choose a hysterectomy. That's not really optional. My risk of cancer is going to go up exponentially if I do not have one. So, I could have surgery and then we could pursue adoption.

We've talked about adoption a lot. We aren't interested in international adoption or a baby. There are too many kids here who need families.

We don't want an open adoption. We'd prefer a boy under the age of 10.

Now with that said, we have some realistic fears. A lot of the kids in the system have serious issues. Some have disabilities. Some have anger issues. Some are jacked up because of abuse.

We are sympathetic. We really are. But what if those things aren't easy to overcome for us or keep us from loving the child because we aren't the biological parents? We've heard so many of our friends who have children with issues say that its different when it's your own child. What if that's true and we don't love the child enough? We are loving people, but I think our fears are legit.

I know this will sound silly, but we don't want to live in fear either. We've talked about what happens if we get some angry boy who decides to stab us in our sleep? We've seen the 20/20 specials.

So here I am. I'm running out of time to make a decision. If we aren't doung fertility treatments by May, I have to have another surgery and it's probably going to be a hysterectomy.

I'm so confused.

I can't figure out how to make a decision based on what Gods will is for my life and not my emotions.  I can't do it.

So, I continue to have this battle inside me that I fight alone. I smile and engage in small talk, all while my heart is being pulled in two directions. My pain sits on the edge of my lips, waiting for an empathetic ear.

Meanwhile, others holiday traditions crush me. I watch the little girl crawl into Santas lap and wonder why that's not part of my story. I watch a mom teaching a little boy how to give by picking out gifts for less fortunate children. All while I struggle to understand why we aren't given the opportunity to impart those lessons. I bake cookies for kids at church and painfully dream of having little hands dipped in a floury mess.

That loss, those crushed dreams, they are all the more real this year.

When that kind of pain is swirling inside you and there is no outlet, you can't escape the soul crushing agony.

Since most of the world outside this little blog is oblivious, I'll keep smiling and moving through life as if...

As if I everything is fine.

As if my heart isn't crumbling.

As if the road ahead is known and easy.