Gardening and Dancing In The Rain

  I've become quite obsessed with our patio garden. I water it to the point of over saturation on a reasonably consistent basis. It has been doing quite well. Sure, I've replaced some plants that did not take to my certain style of care, but most are alive, and thriving. It has given me a certain peace in all this to see something I've nurtured grow.

  This is a pretty standard reaction to infertility, I've come to find out. Many turn to gardening. I hate being clinically predictable. I selfishly want to be different, special, coping better than most. You know, make it about me!

  It's been a very difficult month. We're coming closer to our decision regarding our next step, and the emotional complexity of the situation has been overwhelming. We are desperate for the moment when the plans are set and we can get to work, and drive forward with purpose.

  What has made the month most difficult is that at the moments that Shannon needs me the most, when she is at her angriest, saddest, most lost, I struggle to not blame myself for her pain. I just want to say I am sorry over and over. You know, make it about me. I stop myself from doing that at least. Instead I either shut down, or try to solve the problem. Clinically predicable male behavior.

  We've been going to talk to someone about the journey, and it has been extremely helpful. I've been to therapy at one point before, and I remember how odd it is that clarity comes in a room that you are supposed to have clarity in.

  I have to accept that my reactions to all this can be predictable, and that I can't dance through the rain the whole way. I should occassionally take the umbrellas offered to me, and ask for cover when I need it. When Shannon wants to yell while standing in the rain, I'll stand next to her and hold her hand, and then open an umbrella and dry her off.

  

  

Car Child

  There is an azoospermia blog that I read when I got my first zero sample where the writer disappears for a few months and then returns and tells of his divorce, attempted suicide, and time in a psych ward.

  This is not one of those blogs.

  A death march at work, my brother's wedding (next weekend!!), the summer, and our donor decision process have gotten in the way. I also wasn't really ready to write. As much as I like to think I am dealing with this situation so well, I am making mistakes.

  I have enjoyed the freedoms of not having children a bit too much lately. Let's just say there are some college level stories emerging of my time spent with friends. I suppose I have every right to cut loose, but it shows me that I cannot get through this process with sheer willpower.

  I'm having increasingly bad reactions to people discussing their children. I'm in a training program at work where we meet every other week, and discuss management. Each week a member of the group presents a "who am I?" overview of themselves. They discuss where they grew up, went to school, what they enjoy, family, etc. Everyone has children. Everyone speaks about the unimaginable joy their children bring them. Everyone in the room looks at each other and smiles, feeling that glow in their hearts. I see red.

  These are not reasonable reactions.

  I'm treating my car as if it was a child. I have started dressing it up, changing the badge colors, putting on license-plate frames that match the pattern of the seats. I am washing it with special products and then taking pictures of it. I am showing you pictures of my car child. It is that bad.

  We are going to see a counselor who specializes in working with families going through DI (donor insemination - We now have a cool acronym for our challenge). I am really looking forward to talking about how I am feeling.

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And yet, I am so hopeful. I realized after posting I should edit to make sure it is clear that I know we will have everything we want.