It's been a rough week, on several fronts. We're still trying to figure out why I'm having trouble with some meals - things I've eaten successfully suddenly cause me to vomit. In the TMI department, I've been constipated for over a week, despite 2x daily doses of Colace and adding Benefiber to my morning shake. The second dose of Colace has helped a bit, but it's generally Not Fun to have your anus feel like it's clamped down tighter than security at Fort Knox.
I think I've hit that point where at 12 weeks post-op I'm at the "impatient" stage - I want to eat a wider variety of foods, even in small amounts, but my body isn't quite ready. I know this will improve as I pass the 6 month and 12 month marks, but when I really have to hunt for something to eat that won't come right back up at me, it's frustrating.
The other issue, is that I just can't seem to kick the blues. The Man and I used to be foster parents. We had an adorable baby girl (J), who was placed with us at 8 days old, and we were on track to adopt her. We also had a 3 year old girl (T) who could be very sweet, and was clearly in need of love and direction. Unfortunately, due to the extent of her negative previous experiences, she also had some pretty severe issues. We begged for guidance and help with her, and were refused at every turn. "She's just 3", or "You're inexperienced parents" - both facts that were true, but not facts that explained the depth of her behaviors. We were committed to T, and wanted the very best for her, but were struggling.
I won't get into the gory details here - I'm likely to eventually write a book about the entire experience. I think I need it for the cathartic value it may have. But what I will say, is that things came to head with T's behavior and the agency's refusal to act on our requests, and the decision was made to remove her from our home. When they did so, they also removed J. To say we were heartbroken is a laughable understatement. J was taken from the only home she'd ever known, quite frankly as a punitive measure against us. A legal battle ensued, shenanigans occurred at the agency, we spent a lot of money and a lot of heartache trying to regain custody of J (we realized that however much we loved T, that her placement was never going to be back with us).
We ultimately lost that battle. Devastated again doesn't even begin to describe things. Wrapping up the last of all of it took some time - 451 days from the day it began, to be precise, but my lawyer called last Monday to tell me it was finally complete. While I knew exactly what was being done, and it was simply a matter of waiting for bureaucracy to spin it's wheels, when he called it felt like the loss all over again.
Between not feeling well because of the food and digestion issues and the weight of that loss coming back over me, I'm just not in a very good head space right now. I do see Libby tomorrow afternoon - thankfully - but I think it's going to take some work to get past this again, not just a single session.
For my followers that know the whole story, your love and support have meant the world to me. For a few followers from elsewhere who think they know what happened but really don't - go away! You do not know the truth, and your need to harass me about it shows just how shallow and sad you are as human beings.
For those who have no idea what I'm talking about - a virtual hug is always nice.