Just when I thought I was finished crying over this sh*t, I cried some more. What the f*ck?
The B*tch made me cry. She made me cry. She reminded me of my defect. I'm infertile. I get a period every month, but I can't make babies. Thanks for that awesome reminder, Period. I wonder how you'll feel when I schedule that hysterectomy on your ass.
I thought I'd get to a point where I'd be ready to think about it. I don't want to adopt. It's too much drama. I want my kids, not someone else's. It's funny because my Mother and I had the worst fight of our lives over the issue of adoption. She said some pretty mean things about it, at a time when I thought there was a chance I might attempt it. Her thoughts on it didn't influence me at all. I'll tell you what did.
1. I saw some old friends who adopted a child from out of the country. They were happy and beautiful, but their stories of getting to that point scared me. I don't have the mother's patience or compassion. I just don't.
2. A co-worker's daughter just met her birth-mother for the first time. I think she's like nine. She came to tell me that the name given to her by her birth-mother is the same as mine. Her father didn't seem bothered by it. I did. I couldn't imagine parenting and loving a child, only to ultimately compete with the birth-mother's love. Not my cup of tea.
Not happening. Nope not ever. I'm over the kid thing. I'm not strong enough to keep fighting. So I'm not fighting. The only reason I won't have the remaining embryos destroyed is because my conscious can't handle it.
I don't believe in miracles anymore, but I'll get into that later. I don't want to hear stories about women who tried for decades, and one day popped up pregnant. That's not my story. As I close in on 33, I know that will never be my story. Every month I still hope for a shocking pregnancy, but that's just because I'm dumb. *shoulder shrug*
I'm still fat. I had to take off a week. I tweaked my knee badly. I even had a limp. I plan to get some new shoes and start the Turbo Fire program from the beginning when I return home.
This is going to turn off a lot of people, but I no longer believe in God. It's odd because by default, I talk to this supposed deity daily and say grace before I eat. They are habits I am working to break. Infertility knocked the faith right out of me. Praying won't get you anything. Hard work gets you things, but sometimes that's not even enough. Something is either meant for you or it's not.
Religion is a con served up to keep those struggling from giving up and committing suicide. I mean poor people pray their entire lives for comfort, but guess what? Things don't get easier, their children starve, they suffer from illnesses because they can't afford medical care, and when they die, there's no money for a proper funeral. Yet! they are some of the most devoted.
I was devastated after my FET failed, but once I stopped questioning why God did this and that, it got easier. Once I realized there was no God and there were no spirits waiting to become my children, it got easier. I didn't say I don't cry, but it's easier. Now, I don't feel I owe a God anything, nor does it owe me anything. The only being or entity I'm indebted to, is my MOM and boy is the world lucky for that.
I'm not here to preach against God. If you believe, good for you. Glad it works.
I was able to type out that entire thing, but just last week when I was asked if I believe in God, I couldn't denounce him out loud. I simply said I was raised to believe in God. So there... I'm a sucka!