Monster melt-down

I had a bit of a melt-down last night. It was early this morning actually.

I think it was prompted by some bad news I got yesterday.

One of my BLM friends found out she has serious health issues. Potentially life threatening issues. She will receive medication and medical care, but there's no guarantee. She's been told by her doctors not to put off anything she wants to do. That's always fairly indicative.

Anyway, it was so sad to read her message. She wants so much to live. To live a long and healthy life. She wants so much to be with her son. Her adult son. Her other son was stillborn.

It made me so sad. Because I don't. I don't want to live. If I was in her position, I would be sad for Craig, but not for me.

I was so sad that she wants to live so much and I don't.

I wish so much that I did want to live.

I want my desire for life back. I want my zest back.

I want hope.

Because without hope I see absolutely zero purpose in living.

:::

Don't think of this as some desperate cry for help. It's not.

Don't think of this as some last minute suicidal note. It's not.

Instead I guess it's just a cry of despair.

Despair that I feel that I have nothing to live for.

Despair that I honestly believe the best has already been.

Despair that I believe that all the things which are so desperately wrong in my life will never get better.

Despair that my children will always be dead.

Despair that the life I had -- we had -- is gone forever.

Despair that I have no hope.

Despair that I cannot look at a future. That I see nothing in my future. That I find it hard enough to cope with today, with now.

:::

Anyway, at about 5 this morning all these feelings overwhelmed me and I had a bit of a melt-down. Poor Craig.

We had a bit of a session. I cried. I yelled at him. We talked.

You see, we have a massive wall between us. A huge wall. A seemingly impassible wall.

That wall is children.

I want another baby. He does not. And there's no compromise there. Really. I've tried.

Craig sees many things in our future. I don't. I see nothing but emptiness. I see nothing without a baby. Nothing at all. And I don't know how to get past it.

We've talked about embryo adoption. But Craig doesn't want a baby. So then we don't talk about it. Then he thinks that I've "forgotten" because I'm not talking about it. Then I mention it again. Then he gets angry again. Then I don't talk about it again. It's a nasty circle.

It's like Craig thinks that just because I don't talk about it, I must have stopped wanting it. But that's not how it works.

And all the time I'm getting older.

:::

It's been 14 months since Jet died. That is the longest time that I have NOT been pregnant since I first got pregnant in January 2006.

And the reason I'm not pregnant??? I'm now in a place where I honestly believe that any pregnancy I have will result in another dead baby. Seriously. Even though the doctors will not say that to me. Even though there is no medical evidence.

There are still those hopeful people out there who believe in miracles. Who believe that "somehow" I will have a baby who will live.

If you are reading this, and you are one of those people, let me tell you right now. I do not believe in miracles. I will not have another baby. Not a child who is our biological child. Because I honestly believe that child would die.

You see, I didn't believe that when I was pregnant with Kees. Or with Jet. I feared it. Oh god, I feared it so much. But I didn't believe it. Of course I didn't believe it. If I had believed it, then I would never have gotten pregnant.

Now I do believe it. For some reason, Death follows our children.

I fear Death no more. Because there is nothing more for it here.

Shoo Death. No more of Craig and Mirne's children here. Pick on someone else for a change.

:::

But adoption. I've thought about that. A lot.

However, there are problems. Of course. When are there not problems.

My age. I am 42 years old. Many countries will not let a baby be adopted if there is more than a 42 year age difference between the (adopted) mother and the baby. Well, that rules that out.

In addition, Craig has developed an almighty, overwhelming baby phobia. He does not want to be around babies. He does not want to see them or hear them. He does not want to hear about them. He wants nothing to do with babies. Well, not a problem given that we're not likely to be adopting a baby anyway because I'm too old.

My mental health. I have serious doubts that we would survive any initial adoption application because of it. I personally believe (and so do my shrink and my doctor) that my mental health would improve about 1000% if we had a living child, but I don't know that an adoption agency would agree with that.

Time. In the Netherlands, the adoption procedure can take anything from 2 years to 6 years to be successful. That's if you're approved in the first place. That means if we applied and were successful, we might be 48/49 years old by the time we got a child. Could I do that? Could I do all those years of additional pain and heartache? Could I do those years of uncertainty? I don't know.

Then there's location. Shit. That's a big one. We are Australian. And Dutch. We live in the Netherlands, but it's not where we want to be forever. Our forever home will be in Australia. So if I start an adoption procedure here, I'll have to wait it out. But if I do start an adoption procedure here, then I can't start an adoption procedure in Australia. But ... is one better than the other? I don't know. Probably we would have a better chance in Australia, simply because there are more children available for adoption there. But this is where we are at the moment.

Jobs. I'm not working at the moment. I'm on paid sick leave. Craig is not working at the moment. He's receiving no income. He's at home with me because I need him here with me. I can't deal with anything on my own. So how does that look on an adoption application form? Job: mmm, none? Right, enough said.

Embryo adoption. If I want a baby, and soon, this is our best option. In fact, if I want a child, this is our best option.

For whatever reason (actually there are many), there are simply not enough babies/children in the world who are eligible for adoption. There are simply too many eager would-be parents out there wanting a child. And not enough eligible children.

But embryo adoption is a different matter. There are more embryos available than there are would-be parents willing to adopt an embryo.

And I can carry a child. My body does pregnancy very well. And I want a living baby. Desperately.

So why not? Well, Craig has a baby phobia. And there's my mental health issues. Embryo adoption is expensive, but no more so than normal adoption. And money is not an issue. Not at all. Quite frankly, I'd spend hundreds of thousands if it meant I could have a living child. Literally.

:::

So here we are. Two incredibly well educated professional people. (Seriously, between the two of us, we have degrees and post-graduate degrees and certificates and diplomas and the rest, coming out of our ears. If anything, we are probably over-educated for this world and this life.) We are financially secure. Living in a lovely apartment in Amsterdam. We own two building blocks in Australia. And we are desperately wanting to be parents to a living child.

But probably not able to unless a myriad of strangers, in a myriad of places, approve of every little piece of our lives.

And that doesn't seem very likely given what I have written above.

Doesn't life just suck.

:::

In the meantime, I cried and cried and cried this morning. I haven't cried for months. I've become a hard woman. There's not much that makes me cry any more.

But my lack of hope, my despair. It made me cry. My friend's hope for a long and healthy life made me cry. Because I don't have that. That hope is missing here.