Flooded

Where to even begin. How about the facts

Grey and I have started hunting for adoption agencies, looking into various meetings and filling out applications. To date, three different agencies, each with their own statistics and demographics. Each with their own set of questions.

Let's move on to feelings triggered by recent events: anger, fear, sadness, worry. Worry about getting all the information together, making it clear and non-crazy sounding. Anger about having to talk about my upbringing, having to relive some of the abuse. Sadness of knowing that the chapter on fertility treatments, the hope for pregnancy is coming to a close. And fear. Fear of living a life I never wanted to live.

Yesterday I woke up to find Grey in the middle of a panic attack. One of the agencies we were looking into is from his hometown. Initially, it seemed like a good match, as we would be able to pitch a connection. But then we began to dig more, with Grey uncovering red flags. And with those red flags came the fear that I would bring in outside elements that would tear us apart. What started as a panic about this agency lead to my sweet husband curled up into a ball, sobbing uncontrollably over this past miscarriage. Grieving openly for our lost children; grieving for the baby with mommy's eyes and daddy's nose. It was hard. Very hard. I wished for a way to take the pain away from him, to erase the memory of the past 2.5 yrs. Instead, I cried with him.

Today wasn't much better. Though Grey is healing, I spent the day getting hit with reminders on how I was failing at my career, all due to the fact that I have trouble concentrating on anything not fertility related. I feel old, worn out, lack luster. And my heart hurts from knowing that we are still no closer to bringing home baby.

The truth is, we need a vacation. Yet I worry about dropping money to get away because we will need it as we begin the adoption process. At the same time, I feel so alone. I miss being around friends and family, yet Grey's family is currently a source of pain and mine is completely out of the picture. Friends are distant too. After all, what fun is an infertile?

I'm in a funk. I feel we've painted ourselves into quite a corner. And I don't see a way out. Originally the plan was to move within a year and there was excitement to finally have change to look forward to. Now with this adoption, I fear that's on hold too. And because of that potential hold, I feel even more cursed.

I'm sorry to be a downer. I really wish I wasn't. But the path forward is no longer clear. Grey and I are meeting with Dee tomorrow to help figure out if there's a way to reset. And Grey has become more hopeful since finding this last agency. We even reserved our spot in the pre-adoption meeting today.

But there's a sinking feeling I can't shake. A feeling of being cursed with the role of the outsider looking in. That the wounds are too deep to ever heal from them, turning me into some deformed creature. Currently, I'm too flooded with emotion to think clearly about this. To know what I really want.

Tonight, I'm praying for a sign. A marker in the wilderness to direct me to a path. I'm tried of hacking my way through uncharted territory, walking along trails that few are even aware of. I want to find that lone shack in the wilderness, the one occupied by someone who will offer me a place to rest, allowing me to tend my wounds close to the fire. Instead, I feel like I'm left in the cold.