Monday, December 28, 2009

I Feel Like I've Been Stabbed Seven Times And Had Organs Stolen

I've been crying all afternoon.

I am not even sure why.

I guess hormones could be an issue? Or maybe it's just having so much time to think about everything that has happened.

It could be that it's now been 17 months that we have been waiting.

17 months of waiting for the adoption. Almost 7 years of waiting for a baby.

I am in pain, which doesn't help anything. The pain has been pretty consistent because even though I am getting better, I am also taking less pain medicine and getting up more.

Adam went back to work today. I have been on my own for the first time. I have really missed him.

My throat is killing me. It's actually my throat, mouth, and tongue. I hope I never need a breathing tube again for the rest of my life. I think it had tiny knives attached to it.

Basically, I am miserable.

I felt like I should post something because I have not written since I first got home from the hospital. Now you see why. There is nothing going on here but pajamas, pillows, pain meds, sleeping, crying, and family visiting.

I'm going to be leaving the house tomorrow. Carefully. Very carefully. My parents are having a dinner at their house because my brother and sister in law are leaving on Wednesday to go back to Oregon. So, that will be interesting. It may be good to get out of the house. Maybe wearing pants (even if they are sweatpants) will make me feel human again.


  1. I don't know if I have any words that will make you feel better - but know I'm out here thinking of you and sending lots of virtual hugs and good thoughts your way. Hang in there, my friend.

  2. I am so sorry. I don't even know of a way to console you. You're in my thoughts and prayers and I'm sending a virtual <<<<<<>>>>>.

    I'd send virtual chocolate, but then you'd have to lick the computer screen. Ick.

    Lee - aka gamesafoot

  3. Just cry and cry and cry. Don't feel like you have to have a reason, or a deadline to stop. Just cry. It helps.

    Oh, that and Klonopin.

  4. Tears are nearly always right at the surface for me too. I don't consciously think about grieving the loss of my fertility, but I'm pretty sure that's it. I have fleeting "what did I do?" thoughts. I'm considering getting some psych help it's so bad. I haven't told anyone until now that I'm seriously depressed. Seriously. What if the pathology comes back normal?

    Anyway, I thought you might not feel so alone knowing someone else is out there crying without knowing why. And I tried to have a child for 9 years. I wasn't in a position to be considered for adoption. My son was a miracle. He was conceived on my 32nd birthday. It was the month that I gave up trying and had decided that I was done with that relationship too.
    Adoption is a long road. My dad was adopted in 1951 @ 9 months old. My grandparents had been fostering for years, but they were the true miracle for my dad. We met his birthmother and many siblings recently. I feel no bond with them. They look like me, but that's it. The act of adopting is beautiful and as miraculous as a birth. You save a child from a life they don't deserve. Don't give up. Your child will come to you.
    Joy ~kessa3

  5. If pain was a bad guy, and I were a ninja, I'd round house kick it in the face on your behalf. Sorry darlin, hope you get to feeling better soon.

  6. Can I tell you there is light at the end of the tunnel? There is. Trust me on this. Please.

    Seven weeks yesterday. And I found out I had to have a bowel resection and adhesions removed from them too. No one told me until yesterday. Thanks Mr. K, Thank you very much.

    Much love, hugs and prayers coming your way.