I don't know what my problem is lately. I have plenty of things that I could be writing about, but I end up not doing so because I don't feel like I could write about them with the humor and storytelling that they deserve and that is characteristic of my style. I feel like I do a quick and dirty stick and move – just hit the topic and have it over in a few lines, which is unlike me because I'm usually long-winded and often have to curb my writing so that I don't bore you to death. I've just been stuck unlike any degree of stuck that I've ever felt here before.
I'm sure that a lot of it has to do with the redundancy of finding myself at the starting line yet again. I mean, seriously – how many different and interesting ways can I say that I'm once again looking for intended parents?
June 2, 2008 was what we thought a good news day , and was what should have been the first bit of good news that my road with Mia and Urs was headed towards Babyland. Unbeknownst to us at the time, it was actually the exit ramp onto Highway: Destination Hell and was the first of betas which later tanked and gave us the finger on the way out the door. Two weeks later I rambled about compartmentalizing my feelings about the early miscarriage, closing the chapter to my journey with Mia and Urs, and the awkward-guilt-gratefulness of needing to immerse myself in el Cinco to begin my personal healing process.
June 2, 2009 I rambled about compartmentalizing my feelings about another early miscarriage, closing the chapter to my journey with Chance and Apollo (oh, how I miss them), and the awkward-guilt-gratefulness of needing to immerse myself in el Cinco to being my personal healing process.
Broken record, anyone?
Now here I sit, on June 2, 2010, pretty much in the same place that I was in the past couple of years: grieving the loss of a another wonderful match with Miss W and being in the sucktastic position of going through the matching phase all over again. Speaking of how much the process of matching sucks for me because it smacks my infertility/subfertility around in my face over and over again: June 15, 2009. At the end of that one, I wrote;
So, there it is. Remnant sadness and wonky ovaries and all, I'm trying
to find intended parents. Again. This time next year, I hope I'm writing
a post of a different, much happier persuasion.
So much for that.