Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Not Easy to Say Good-bye

Goodbye little girl with the big blues and smiling face, the dimples just like uncle B’s and hands just like your Grandma’s.
Goodbye little boy with the uneven lips (full on the bottom and thinner on the top), tall for his age, with a little pot belly.
Goodbye little child with my eyes and his nose, my chubby cheeks and his perfect ears.
Goodbye surprise BFP
Goodbye to what could have been, what never was and what never will be.

We made the decision today; we are going to try donor eggs. I feel like I have failed as a woman, or more accurately, my body has failed me. Maybe it’s something between H. and me; maybe my eggs don’t like his sperm. Maybe my eggs are scrambled. Whatever the deal is, it’s just not working for us. We got married October 12, 2006 and basically started trying on our wedding night. There were two chemical pregnancies over that 3 year period, but other than that nada. Two failed IUIs, one failed IVF, countless tears and it’s time to move on to something that gives us greater than 20% odds of getting pregnant.

I am sad that it’s come to this. And, I still can’t help but think “how the hell did I get here?” How did this happen? This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, sigh, but here I am. Time to man up.

There is a poem by Robert.Service called The.Quitter. It was one of my Grandfather’s favourite poems and even though it’s a very masculine type of poem, it resonates with me:

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it’s according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it’s easy to blow . . .
It’s the hell-served-for-breakfast that’s hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now that’s a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know — but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit, it’s so easy to quit.
It’s the keeping-your chin-up that’s hard.

It’s easy to cry that you're beaten — and die;
It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sight —
Why that’s the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and battered and scarred,
Just have one more try — it’s dead easy to die,
It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.

7 comments:

Alex P said...

I'm sorry for your yearning and your mourning. I am my parents child, but I look nothing like them. My dearest friend Kara was adopted as a baby, and her mannerisms, speech style, facial expressions are completely that of her mothers, so the point that people recognize her as "darlenes daughter" before they even get formally introduced. Maybe you won't be the sole biological source of a baby, but your child will be your child for so many more reasons than that. I wish you the best.

Sweet Georgia said...

Alex - thank-you.

Kelly said...

I just wanted to let you know, I read another blog, called Sticky Feet, where she just had twins, along with another child. She is finished having children and would love to donate her embryos to someone else. I can match you up if you're interested. Please email me.

Best of luck in your journey to become a mama!

Kelly
Kfigueroa7@yahoo.com

BabyWanted said...

I don't have the right words.
I do want you to know that however your baby comes, that child will be yours. You will be called, "Mama" and you will be there to love and protect and adore that child, as the child will you.

Lots of luv,

xoxo
Su

Spacey said...

**big, big hugs**
Maybe those eggs don't come from your ovaries, but that baby will be your child no matter what. Your child will grow up with so much love and will have so much love for you. You will be a mom.
**big, big hugs**

Fran said...

Sweetie, I know it's hard, but first of all it's the right decision, the one that will be very likely to give you a baby. Who may even look like you, you know? And you'll give him/her much more than your look.
I loved the poem too. Love, Fran

Cathy said...

Your poem brought me to tears, it is so what I'm feeling right now too. I feel your mourning, you deserve time to do that.
I too am at the point of thinking of other options and congratulate you for being brave enough to take this next step.
Best of luck in your new endeavors - I look forward to hearing about your experience and will be keeping my fingers crossed for you!