Thursday, October 15, 2009

Shock and Awe

I remember in the early days of the Iraq War hearing alot about "Shock and Awe," the practice of overwhelming the enemy with force rapidly as a means to stun them into submission and break their will. I think that is where I am tonight, in the "Shock and Awe" stage. There are so many realities beating me down that I wonder if our dreams of having a family are even a possibility. Tonight I feel overpowered, like I am failing this battle on two fronts.

First, there is the ever present battle with my grief, its rapid succession of images, memories, trauma, flashbacks, anger, sense of loss, frustration, sense of overwhelm, sadness, reminders of all that we are missing out on, sense of feeling robbed, feelings of isolation, anger at a disease with no known cause, anger at having to watch my child be that 1 in 50 million, sense of fear about losing future children to Infant Leukemia etc. that go along with missing my Peyton. My sweet, sweet Peyton who Cancer stole from me. She should be here with me. She was my child. I can't get over missing her.

Then there is the second battle front, the infertility front. I got the green light to TTC several months ago. My first two pregnancies came so easily, and still, at the end of the day, my home is empty of children. That's a bitter pill to swallow. I have carried life within me twice and have no children to show for it. Now, when we have already waited so long, when our arms ache to hold our child, now is when my body has decided to become infertile... Why? I don't know how to process this reality, the "we are really struggling with infertility" reality. I don't know how to make peace with being dealt this hand too. The sense of unfairness is smothering me.

So tonight I sit here, pounded, broken, staring in shock and disbelief at these last two years since hubby and I decided to start trying, and wondering how this happened to us? We were prepared. We had so much love to give our daughter. We were ready to provide her a safe, loving, stable and nurturing home. Why do our attempts at having a family need to include so much pain at every twist and turn? Will this ever get easier? Will we ever get OUR chance at bringing home healthy children? Nothing that I thought, envisioned, expected or dreamed on has come to be. When, I must ask, is it our turn to be happy, beaming parents? When can we step off this battlefield?


  1. Oh honey, I wish I had advice or some words that held a perfect answer. But there arent any... There are no words... I wish I knew why things like this happened but, even if we had answers, they wouldnt be good enough. They'll never be good enough.

    Sending hugs...

  2. My husband and I walked a similar road. I had five miscarriages before our daughter Lorelei was born at 36 weeks after I suffered a partial placental abruption. When she was eighteen months, we decided to try again and to my delight I got pregnant right away only to find out at an eleven week checkup that my baby no longer had a heartbeat. After losing her to a genetic disorder called Turner Syndrome, we decided to try again and suddenly I couldn't get pregnant anymore. We tried for a year to no avail. One round of 50mg Clomid resulted in our twins. Then Calvin died and although I ache for a son, conceiving is no longer an option for me. I had gotten my tubes tied during my c-section with our twins. I think for the most part, people in general take fertility and healthy babies for granted. As for your Peyton being a one in 50 million chance for having her form of leukemia, our son also had such a rare heart defect that in his seven years at Children's Hospital, our cardiologist had never seen a case in real life. My baby's surgeon had only operated on two other babies with his defect, and that was when he was working in Philadelphia. With odds like that, it's a pity we didn't win the lottery instead of dealing with the horrific pain of losing our children. I believe you have much love to offer a child and that eventually you will have a child to love in your arms again. You are a wonderful mother, I can feel your love for Peyton in every post, see it in every snapshot you've shared. A love like the one you have to give won't go ungiven...I just can't see it after all you've been through. Hang on tight, hang on to your hope and faith and believe that you deserve and will have that baby in your arms one day. Sending you hugs....

  3. I am sorry that in addition with trying to live without Peyton here you are also struggling with infertility. It's so unfair. I pray that you will be blessed with a baby that you can bring home.

  4. *hugs* Like Michele said there are no words or no answers to explain why we were dealth the hand that we were. Why do we have suffer through multiple losses and on top of that infertility? I wish I understood this because it doesn't seem fair. Those that can love a child the most are not given the chance to love their children. All I can do is pray for peace and that God will someday give me a living child. I will pray the same for you. *hugs* again

  5. I wish I had something amazing and comforting to say but I'm at a loss because I don't understand why either. Thinking of you, sending up prayers like crazy, and asking St. Gerard and St. Ann to pray along with me for your desire to mother a baby here on earth to be realized. (((Hugs)))

  6. I just let out this massive sad sigh reading this. I had no idea you were also struggling with infertility. Have you considered surrogacy? I know it is mighty expensive... but that is how this totally barren woman became a mom of twins at 46.

    I can give you more details if you are interested, especially in an indy journey, which is less expensive. I also have many friends who are surrogates who might step forward to help.

    I asked all of those questions you asked of yourself, felt all those feelings you are feeling now.

    Infertilty's battlefield is a never-ending war.

    Believe it, I have a friend who just delivered, and two months ago, I literally told her I could not see her heavily pregnant. I was going through a rough patch emotionally and though we are BFFs... she has 7 kids... and gets pregnant so easily... and it was hard on my heart. She's a wonderful mom and friend... but the battle of walking into an OB's office, seeing pregnant women, especially the heavily pregnant ones... and knowing (at least, in my case) that I will never, ever know what it is like to be heavily pregnant or give birth, ever. That I had to have "help" in every way down to DNA to become a mom.

    It slaps you in the face sometimes, then sometimes it doesn't. Most of the time, it's ok. I have no issues w/the fact that my children do not share DNA with me, but they share it with my former surrogate and my DH. However, I do have issues with the fact that I've never given birth, but have seen my boys born and feel like, I wish I could have at least, since I've lost 3 kids, experienced birth.

    Hugs honey. Try and move forward as best you can. It will happen for you. I urge you to contact me to discuss surrogacy (

  7. YOU Said: Why do our attempts at having a family need to include so much pain at every twist and turn. Will ever get easier? Will we ever get OUR chance at bringing home healthy children?

    In my heart I believe it is because you will both make the most wonderful parents to very lucky, beautiful children one day. I truly believe this. Does it make it easier(?) For sure, NO. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, and I cry more days than not, but I want to believe there is something else that makes all of this pain worth it.

    I can't even complain, I have living children. I'm sorry that your loving home is not yet filled with babies...soon, God willing.

  8. wow, are we in the same boat. i so badly want to answer all the questions above for you, but they are the same questions that i also ask. they only thing left for us to do is what we are so used to doing - picking ourself up, dusting ourself off, and putting one foot in front of the other. and then hope that it's not this way forever. hugs, friend. xxMB

  9. I'm so sorry that things are so hard for you. :( My husband and I have also been trying to have a family for almost two years now. It really sucks. I wish things could be easier for you. I hope that somehow your body kicks into action again, or that your doctors can somehow help with that, and that sometime SOON you'll get to have a take home baby. You deserve it so much. Thinking of you.