Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Sometimes You Just Need a Good Cry

I've been absolutely buzzing with excitement since our appointment with the fertility doctor. We have a good chance of having a healthy baby. We have a plan. We're starting to get everything ready to begin again. It's all so exciting.

So why do I have this pit of anxiety in my stomach? A pit that I'm attempting to fill with food?

I don't think I've written about this before but I am a self confirmed comfort eater. If you ever meet me in person you will agree that I'm clearly a girl who loves my food. As a result I've struggled with my weight since around the age of 30. I was overweight when I got pregnant with my son and even though the doctors insist that it was most likely a virus or infection that caused the placenta to stop growing, I sometimes think my weight may have also been a factor. Even if it wasn't a factor, it's still not a healthy way to be. And my husband and I promised each other after our son died that we would both commit to getting healthy for each other.

I've been doing a pretty good job up until now. I've been exercising 5 days a week, one of those days with a personal trainer. I've been changing my diet to add more fruits and veggies and to eliminate a bunch of the junk I was eating before. I've even lost a few pounds and I'm looking and feeling better than I have in a long time.

But over the weekend and early this week I've fallen off the diet wagon. I haven't exercised since Friday before our appointment. I've been craving chocolate and nachos and junk. I have allowed myself to gorge on macaroni and cheese and brownies. I feel guilty and sluggish and blah.

And confused. Why am I comfort eating when I've just gotten such great news. Shouldn't I be happy? Shouldn't this be even more motivation to get fit and lose some more weight before another pregnancy?

Last night in bed it finally hit me. While I'm happy about our new path, I'm in mourning. Not just for my son, but for the fact that I am saying good-bye to having a child that is genetically mine. I know logically that once I carry this new child for 9 months I won't care that his or her origins were from an egg donor. I also know that any child we have will still be genetically related to my husband.

But I still need to wrap my head around the fact that the only child I will ever have that could have been like me, or looked like me, or had my great memory, or my silly sense of humor, or my brown eyes, or my funny looking toes,,,,, that child is dead. Any future living children we will have will have all those things from my husband but not from me.

So I had a good cry about it last night. And also right now as I'm typing this. And these tears feel good. I know in my heart that I want to move forward along this path. I know I need to come to terms with my sense of loss. I suppose that's why our fertility clinic offers free counseling. I am excited about things and I can't wait to get started.

I am feeling less like I want to stuff myself with food today. And I will for sure have to exercise because my trainer is coming over any minute. So hopefully I'm back on the dieting wagon. 

Sometimes you just need a good cry!


  1. Yes you do! I wondered about your fears when I read your last post. I know I would have these same fears and need to grieve them as well. I would love to be a foster care provider some day if I could get the man to agree, but there is something to be said about biology. It hit me the first day I looked into the mirror and saw my mother's face looking back at me. Nothing good will come of bottling those fears up. Express them until you can allow yourself to move forward. You deserve to mother a living baby!

  2. The funny thing is that at first I didn't realize I had them. Until the food thing started up and I knew something wasn't quite right. I'm very good at repressing my feelings.

    The old me would have stuffed my face for months before confronting the real issue. The new me only took 3 and a half days. So that's progress right??

  3. Any personal emotional roller coaster sets me off track.

  4. It's happy....and sad at the same time. It's okay to cry.

  5. I think after going through the kind of trauma that we've been through, we probably all have a kind of tendency to self-sabotage if something good is on the horizon. Like we don't want to get our hopes up *too* much. I think that you're self-awareness is wonderful and you're brave enough to straight up admit how you are feeling and why. (OMG I am starting to sound like my therapist... maybe because that's where I'm spending all my free time...).

    Anyway, I also wanted to say that I do get the biology thing and your feeling of regret. There is a real impulse to make little people with our genes. It makes me think of the time I went over to a new friend's apartment and saw a picture she had up of herself and her mom. They're sitting on a porch swing, drinking coffee, and their mannerisms--the way they held the coffee cup, the way they tilted their heads to the side ever so slightly as they grinned at the camera, the way they crossed their left leg over their right--were all exactly the same in the photo. They looked just like mother and daughter. But the thing is, my friend is Korean, adopted at the age of 2 by a white middle class family in Illinois. So no matter how this embryo is created, there is something more than biology and more than pregnancy that will make this baby yours. And this baby will be lucky to have you.

  6. I feel for you, from my slightly different path towards pregnancy. There's no shame in crying just because you need to. *hugs*

    Visiting from PYHO

  7. Please don't forget that nuture will play a massive part. This baby will be a part of you. Maybe not genetically but I'd put money on that they will pick up so many traits.

    My OH's cousins are adopted and the first time I met them I assumed they weren't because they have so many attributes of their parents. Even now its very hard to visualise that they have birth parents out there.

    But crying is good, you need to get it out. Do what works for you!

    H xx

  8. How awesome that you are so plugged into what's going on with you. It's such a tough journey you've endured and I can imagine the mixed emotions you're having. Good luck and always remember that you can get back on the wagon again even in the same day! I've joined to follow your site.

  9. Yes! Absolutely sometimes you just need a good cry. And you've got lots of things going on right now that are really emotional subjects, so it's not surprising you're wanting mac n cheese and brownies (now you've got me wanting, them, too!) and crying. Hugs to you! xx

  10. What a heartfelt post. Brought me to tears. Brooke put it so well. My middle son is mine, but not my husband's (he came via my first marriage). However, everyone always comments on how he is so obviously my husband's son. He has his mannerisms and ticks. There is something to be said for nature vs. nurture. I'm sure your baby will pick up on your own idiosyncracies and claim them as well. Good luck to you!

  11. Hugs!
    I have no idea what this is like, but I just wanted to say that I admire you for what you are doing. It takes a strong person to bring life into this world and go through this emotional roller coaster that you are. Praying for health for both you and the baby!

    ~Annie of

  12. I admire you for thinking of all the options that you have and, after thinking about using egg donation if our first few IVF cycles don't work, loved your description in your last post about it being 1/2 way between your own child and adoption. I now feel more positive about it as an option after reading your post - your inspiration comes through in your writing and your love and determination will get you there. Nurture is the most important thing and your little one will bring you great joy no matter what... you sound as though you are a strong and loving mum - so you little one will be lucky too :)) xoxo