I miss my dogs. When I'm at my loneliest and feeling blue, I miss them putting their muzzles in my lap. When I am running around outside with the kids, I miss them chasing each other, and always circling. They would constantly be keeping an eye on all of us like the good herding dogs they were.
I am sad that I don't have many pictures of them on my computer to share with you. One was fairly large and wooly, the other was medium sized with smoother fur. They were both black and white border collie mixes.
Today, on a whim, I went to Pet.finder and looked at collie cross dogs. There were so many it was almost overwhelming, even with the search narrowed down to young collie dogs in the North East. Thousands of dogs that need homes.
Could it really be this easy? Is it obtainable joy, or just a band aid for a broken heart? We had always intended to adopt another dog when the boys were somewhere around 7 or 8, when they were old enough to lend a hand in a dog's care. A young dog adopted now would be able to see them through until they went to college. Maybe...maybe. Right now I am looking at the adorable faces of just a couple and wishing I had one here to pat, and hug, and lick my tears.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Friday, February 1, 2013
Hoping for Hope
I would give my left ovary right now to just be able to HOPE for a chance at a FET. Not the hope that my lining would be good, that the embryos would thaw, that I would have at least one to transfer, that one would stick...but just the hope that I may actually do it.
I am tired of having the same conversations with my husband over and over. The last time I only mentioned that we HAD to go to counseling, that he had no choice, and he blew up at me. At the end of fight #whothehellisstillcounting he said that maybe he would consider going through with a FET, after counseling. It was like I had been swimming against a rip tide and I suddenly could see the shore, just for a minute. It was hope. But by the time I was snuggled in our bed, I realized that he was just putting me off again. And even if he wasn't, I can't trust anything he says.
This is so unbelievably unfair. If we were a fertile couple, we would have agreed to try after going around and around, and I would have ditched the birth control. Then after trying one month, he would have balked again. Then he would agree to try again. Then we would get pregnant. Then we would lose the baby. We would fight again, and he would agree to try one more time. Then we would have sex, and he would freak out! He would be screaming that there was no way he wanted another child. And he would tell me to take the morning after pill and rant and rave that he was forced into this against his will and that if I became pregnant I would have to have an abortion. WHAT? Hold on...that's illegal. But because I'm infertile, my embryos can exist in a frozen state at three days of life for all eternity. It's not right. I didn't flush birth control pills down the toilet, poke holes in condoms, or sleep with a random guy to get pregnant. It's not even like we got pregnant by accident, because accidents happen to fertile people, not people like us. He signed a permission form. He got his blood tested...including an AIDS test...which he had to sign. He had to give me our prescription card to pay for the medications. He had to watch our children while I drove to the clinic over and over again getting follicle checks and blood draws. And then, the icing on the cake, after he had his freak out and didn't want to go through with it, he spanked into a cup and agreed to have embryos created. GAH!!!
All I wanted was some hope. An actual baby would be nice, but the hope that I could actually get pregnant would be a nice start.
I am tired of having the same conversations with my husband over and over. The last time I only mentioned that we HAD to go to counseling, that he had no choice, and he blew up at me. At the end of fight #whothehellisstillcounting he said that maybe he would consider going through with a FET, after counseling. It was like I had been swimming against a rip tide and I suddenly could see the shore, just for a minute. It was hope. But by the time I was snuggled in our bed, I realized that he was just putting me off again. And even if he wasn't, I can't trust anything he says.
This is so unbelievably unfair. If we were a fertile couple, we would have agreed to try after going around and around, and I would have ditched the birth control. Then after trying one month, he would have balked again. Then he would agree to try again. Then we would get pregnant. Then we would lose the baby. We would fight again, and he would agree to try one more time. Then we would have sex, and he would freak out! He would be screaming that there was no way he wanted another child. And he would tell me to take the morning after pill and rant and rave that he was forced into this against his will and that if I became pregnant I would have to have an abortion. WHAT? Hold on...that's illegal. But because I'm infertile, my embryos can exist in a frozen state at three days of life for all eternity. It's not right. I didn't flush birth control pills down the toilet, poke holes in condoms, or sleep with a random guy to get pregnant. It's not even like we got pregnant by accident, because accidents happen to fertile people, not people like us. He signed a permission form. He got his blood tested...including an AIDS test...which he had to sign. He had to give me our prescription card to pay for the medications. He had to watch our children while I drove to the clinic over and over again getting follicle checks and blood draws. And then, the icing on the cake, after he had his freak out and didn't want to go through with it, he spanked into a cup and agreed to have embryos created. GAH!!!
All I wanted was some hope. An actual baby would be nice, but the hope that I could actually get pregnant would be a nice start.
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