One night I had the most realistic dream. My husband and I were at the hospital to adopt the most beautiful little baby boy! He had a head covered in thick black hair and was just perfect!  In the dream, we named him Dane.

When I woke up I was so happy and excited! I rolled over and told my husband! He actually liked the name Dane, although we had never discussed it before!

About four days later one of my repeat customers came in, she was carrying a car seat. She turned it around to show me her newborn adopted son.  I recognized him immediately, it was the sweet baby from my dream! I dreamed of him the day he was born! The kicker of it all, she said his name was Dane.

After she left I cried for a few hours. That was supposed to be my son. Now, I just wonder why I have to see other people’s happiness and never get to experience that for myself. My customer gave me the adoption lawyers information, which was very kind. I just wish we could afford to call him.



I am 33, I have literally been trying to get and stay pregnant for a decade now. Nothing in this life has ever made me feel as inferior as a human as this struggle. My final diagnosis: anovulation, as in without ovulation. Boy, if you ever need to know what true pain and utter failure feel like, just think of that word… anovulation.

It means despite taking hormones, figuring out my cycle schedule and literally screwing until I had to have 2 spine surgeries before I was 30 I still don’t get to know the miracle of birthing a baby.

I know, adoption, that’s what you’re thinking, right?  Such an easy term for such a difficult process.

First you have to get your significant other to agree, then comes the huge debate of age/gender/race/open/closed/sibling group.

After which you come to a conclusion and find a birth mother interested who suddenly gives in to family pressures and changes her mind in the last trimester.

So you try again, another birth mother, hopefully a sure thing she strings you along you buy everything a baby could ever need or want you tell everyone and plan a baby shower for after the birth… and she also changes her mind weeks before the due date.

Infertility isn’t just the fact that your line ends with you, it is also the knowledge that 12 year olds are deeming themselves better parent material than you. Watching welfare breeders popping one kid out every 10 months and not caring for them at all.

Then the women you actually bond with, the other infertal ones or the ones who don’t want kids, they get pregnant or marry into a ready made family and suddenly you’ve lost the only sisters you had. Your support group is extinct, you try to be happy for them and you are, but the distancing begins as an act self preservation.

Then your niece decides to pop one out, because she can and you literally want to just scream/cry/vomit. Here you are totally alone.

Where do I go from here? I will try to be happy for my niece. I will only cry when I am alone. How do I function now? I have no idea, this so difficult.

Satan’s Taint

So in a last ditch effort to find humour in my awful (but good paying) job today I decided to give my place of employment a nick name.  So hence forth, I work at Satan’s Taint.  Also, that’d be a hell of a death metal band name!  😉