I don’t normally put such sensitive and personal information on this blog. But I feel that to put it in my more private blog where people know me IRL would actually be more scary.

The people who do know me here, are other mothers of loss, or other people who know my pain associated with adoption loss, and therefore… I have decided to post it here.

After the loss of my daughter, I wanted to die. I felt inadequate, like, I couldn’t defend my daughter against the evil Shorsteins who stole my daughter from me in the hospital room. I couldn’t protect my daughter from the stupid doctor who felt entitled to save me in her own reborn catholic way and drugged me up in the hospital.

So, for the past 10 years, I’ve felt like an inadequate mother, when I feel like a mother at all.

I’ve always felt, intuitively, that I’d never be able to have children again. I shouldn’t have lost my first daughter… who is to say that it won’t happen again?

People don’t understand the depth of this pain. People don’t understand the depth of this loss.

When I went to holistic doctors 4 years ago, they told me my hormones were all fucked up. Yeah, I knew that. At that time, I’d had high prolactin levels since losing my daughter. Never went down. Prolactin is what makes breast milk, so yes, I’ve had breast milk since the loss of my daughter. I still do. But the doctor told me other things… I can’t quite remember all of the hormones that were fucked up… but one I do. It was Luteinizing hormone, which allows the egg to stick to the uterine wall. Which meant, I can “get” pregnant, I just can’t stay pregnant. I had the thought that if this was all the farther I would get in being pregnant, then I’d just have to live with being infertile. Infertile, to me, meaning, I can get pregnant, but I can’t stay pregnant after the egg is fertilized.

Well, mid February, I was a bit concerned, as I felt the signs of fertility. I got a pregnancy test, and what the fuck? I’m pregnant. It was unexpected, because, well, I’m infertile, but once I realized I was, well, I was happy. And scared. I was had extreme anxiety, I had extreme PTSD, because, well, I still don’t know why and how evil people exist to steal babies, and how did I know that it wasn’t going to happen again?

My hormones went crazy. I found a midwife. She said I was at least 10 weeks pregnant. 10 weeks? This isn’t supposed to be able to happen! But I was so happy. I told both of my partners, and they were super supportive. I really couldn’t have had a more supportive community, friends, partners, everything. You’d think that I’d be okay. You’d think that I’d realize that it was 10 years later, and I’d be able to handle it, I’d be able to protect my child, not even by myself, but with my whole community present. And, my wonderful midwife. No hospital for me this time. No fucking stupid dumbass crazy selfish bitch is drugging me up. FUCK NO!

My wonderful midwife, whom, was going to help me have my little one at home.

On easter sunday, that dream burst. I went into labor. Full blown labor. 2 hours, starting at 5:30ish, ending a bit after 7:30ish, pm. Little Luz was born at 7:52pm. It was a little egg, with a little tiny baby in it. After talking to my midwife, she thinks that it was actually about 12 weeks old. 12 weeks….

We had a ceremony for him, and we buried him. Me, and his two daddies. Yes, my baby had two loving, wonderful, supportive daddies. Because, damnit, no one is taking my baby. I’ll have an army, a community, three families, and two daddies to help me.

A was concerned because he thought that I was really worried about everything. EVERYTHING. Yes, of course, everything had to be PERFECT!!!! Because, if it wasn’t perfect, someone might come and take my baby.

And, me, A and J, all got together, talking about how they could both help me. They were both super super supportive. I’d stop working and take care of the baby after it was born. I started saving up money right away. We went shopping for maternity clothes.

What I now realize, is that I went into some severe PTSD trauma. Which adds a whole new element to my infertility issues. First it was just… oh…. well, it’s just a luteinizing hormone. I will just be infertile. But now, it raises whole new issues and questions I have to ask myself.

People don’t understand how painful adoption loss is. Not just emotionally, but physically, physiologically, mentally, every way. My anxiety over the loss of my daughter made me have a miscarriage, because I was sooo afraid that if things weren’t perfect (or, scarier yet, even if everything WAS perfect) someone was going to come and take my baby from me again… so, because my body decided I could not live through that again, I had a miscarriage, and my little baby died.

And, still… people don’t understand. “You are fertile! You can get pregnant!” “All you have to do is get over the loss of your daughter!” and so on and so on… what people don’t understand, is that I can’t ever get over the loss of my daughter. And, I don’t know if I’ll EVER be able to carry a baby to term.

The theft of my daughter has affected me sooo much, that my body has killed my baby! That is how harmed I am. And, doctors can’t figure it out. No one has any answers as to what to do. Or how it happened. But I know, even if they don’t… I know.