Riding off into the Sunset

I never like to be one to be wishy washy, and usually when I make a decision I go with it.  Which is why I now need to tell you that my decision to come out of retirement was a mistake.  My posting last week was based on emotion.  Perhaps saying I was finished blogging made me miss blogging if just for a moment.  Various posts about the ALI community and the drop off of those who are pregnant or parenting also made me feel as though I wanted to add to the conversation.  

But as I analyzed the “why” I was going to blog again, the benefits and reasons to not blogging outweighed (for me) the reasons to blog.  I just don’t have the time.  I want to be present in my son’s and husband’s lives.  And when I came back to thinking about blogging, I had blog posts running through my head and I kept wanting to come check my blog and see if anyone had stopped by, etc.  To everything, there is a time and a season, and right now, I am focusing on real life efforts of homemaking, mothering, and enjoying every busy and quiet moment I am given.  Those quiet moments are few and far between, and there are so many other things I want to do with my time in those quiet moments. 

I began my blog because as stated recently, I was struggling to find joy in the daily moments of my life because I didn't want the pain and anguish of IF to derail me in my efforts to be happy.  My husband and I were moving towards the path of adoption, and I wanted and knew that my heart needed to heal.  My faith was fragile, my outlook jaded, and I was tired of feeling that way.  This blog and all of you who followed me in my journey helped me in my efforts and desires to find joy.  I am so appreciative to all of you for your kind words and helping me feel that I was not alone.  So you might think I am turning my back on the ALI community by leaving my blog behind, but I don’t think I am. 

Because I am not blogging doesn’t mean I am not thinking about you who are still in the trenches.  I can still stop by your blogs, cheer you on, add some words of comfort, or share a joke or two.  

So as this blog rides off into the sunset I thought I would share one final quote that I recently heard that I liked—

“Our impact is less likely to emanate from the pulpit—more often it will occur in one-to-one relationships, or in small groups where we can have an impact on an individual.”  (Neal A Maxwell)  All of you who took time to read and comment on my blog have impacted and helped me.  Thank you.

“The only person you need to compare yourself to is the one you were before”  (just saw this quote on FB, don’t know where it came from)  It is so easy to compare ourselves and our circumstances to others who have different strengths and weaknesses rather than just comparing ourselves to ourselves and seeing how much progress we have made. 

One of the first posts I wrote included a picture of a sunrise, so I think it is fitting that as I thought about this post, the view of a sunset came to mind.  We start this journey of being parents with the excitement and beauty of a sunrise, only to find ourselves in the middle of a miserable day that seems like it will never end.  But then all of a sudden, the most amazing sunset appears on the horizon and we realize all is well, and that the difficulties we went through were worth it because we got to experience and see this amazing site.  Eventually the day ends and we have a new day, a new opportunity to tackle different problems and experience new joyful moments.  That is how I feel at this time about this blog and the IF chapter in my life.  It was a day, a beautiful and difficult day, but one that ended with a sunset and vista more amazing than I could ever have imagined.   

Articles on Infertility

So it recently came to my attention that an article I wrote for my church's magazine a long time ago was published online.  I really don't tell you this to get attention for myself.  There are other articles written by others who have struggled with infertility.  And maybe something they, or even little old me, have written might be of some help.  I wrote this article prior to our adoption,  (it was a long process to have it approved and then published--the published date was this last spring)

Here are the links to the site
Faith and Infertility  and then if you click on the link at the top under additional experiences it takes you to the link below
Faith and Infertility an Online Ensign Exclusive
And this is the link to my article:  Mending My Broken Heart

There you go, some heavy reading material.  Not for the faint of heart  :)

Infertility Myth Buster

For National Infertility Awareness Week I decided I would participate in Resolve's "Bust an Infertilty Myth" blog challenge.

The myth I have chosen to write about is well known and I am sure many of you have heard it.  It is:  "Just adopt and then you'll get pregnant".

Many people who knew my husband and I were hoping to adopt a child would tell me, "You know, once you adopt, you will get pregnant."  And then after we adopted our child, invariably some people just had to tell us about some random person they knew who had adopted a child and was now pregnant.

When people say this is I really don't think they are thinking about what they are saying.  Do they really think I adopted my child in hopes that once I did so I would become pregnant and have a biological child?

Adoption is not a means to becoming pregnant.  In fact only 5% of couples who adopt later become pregnant.  It is a very insensitive thing to say to someone who has adopted a child.  And when I am told this, I cringe, take a deep breath and try to explain in the nicest way possible that this is simply not true and I that I don't appreciate hearing this statement.  I cannot imagine our family without our little guy who came through us through the miracle and blessing of adoption.   I would hate for him to think that we adopted him only in hopes that by doing so I would then become pregnant and have a biological child.  Love, not blood, is what binds my family together.

I hate being on my period

Why do I have to get so crabby, irritated, and emotional?  No idea.  I really want to just go to sleep and have a new day to start fresh on, but unfortunately I took a late afternoon nap and don't feel tired at all.  Bummer.

Having a unicornuate uterus with a very thin lining makes it so my bleeding is next to nothing.  You would think that would come with the additional perk of very little irritability and emotional ups and downs.  But no such luck.  I think I will put a request in to the "Man upstairs" that He gives those of us dealing with infertility a break when it comes to dealing with this monthly visitor of ours.  I don't think that is too much to ask.  Also, you would think that with dealing with this month after month for how many years, I would've figured out how to ride this wave of irritability.  Nope, sure haven't.  I think one mistake I made this month was thinking I had figured it out.  I guess the bright side is, I will get another opportunity next month to see if I learned anything.  Don't hold your breath on that one.

I like to think I am easy to live with the rest of the month, but right now I am really not so sure.  Right now I just don't remember what my excuses are the rest of the time.

Enough of this already.

I guess I will go peek in on my sleeping baby and that will bring a smile to my face and make everything better.  Looks like he is awake and wants a little snack and some snuggle time.  I am happy to oblige him.

*update*  Yep, the snuggle time with my baby did the trick.  There is something about holding him and listening to his heavy breathing that just brings peace and happiness to my heart.  Now, I am off to try and get some zzzzs as well.

It's that time of the month again.

Yes it's time for ICLW.

And yes, Aunt Flo is visiting as well.  I think the thing that bothers me most about her is how she gets me irritated and moody.  I have come to terms with the realization that her arrival means no baby, but I wish I could just not get bugged with my closest friends and family when she comes by.  I am working on that.  I think I did a better job this month.  I'll have to ask my hubby.

I haven't done a welcome ICLW letter for awhile, so I thought I would do one this time.  You can see the info on the side bar of my blog.  But here it is quick and dirty.  I spent a lot of time, money, and energy doing infertility treatments and dealing with insurance companies.  None of which turned out well.  I spent some more time, money, and energy devoted towards adoption, and have reaped the benefits of it.  I have a beautiful baby boy who is a joy to be with.  He has such a pleasant, happy personality and is always smiling and laughing except for when he's not.  :D  Which isn't too often.  :D

As you can see from my header, my blog is about finding joy now, today, not later, and not tomorrow.  In the throes of life and the ups and downs it brings, I have found that if I can keep my perspective and focus on being happy, then I can get through anything--even infertility treatments and the stress of adoption.

I still write about infertility and adoption.  But now I also write about being a mom.  I also write about ordinary things like exercise, crafts, and whatever else I feel like at the moment.  I enjoy photography, reading, being outside, and learning most anything.  I am working on my cooking skills and am hoping to find pockets of time in between naps to learn how to garden, work on some crafts, and edit and digitally scrapbook my photos.  I hope you will stick around and join me in finding joy in life.

Food for Thought

Thanks for all of your great comments on my previous post.  It really did give me some "food for thought".
You helped me rephrase how I can refer to my struggle with infertility.
Here are some phrases you helped me come up with.

I struggle with infertility.
I have been diagnosed with infertility.
I have a unicornuate uterus, don't ovulate, and have required the assistance of a RE to try to get pregnant.  That sentence should raise some more questions.  But that explanation might also forgo the "oh, just relax" solutions that seem to fly out of people's mouths.

Now that I have a child I wonder if I will get as many people asking me when I am going to have more kids.  It seemed that since I didn't have any kids I was fair game for people constantly nosing around and being so concerned about my small family size.

I guess I will just have to wait and see.  I hope so, I could use a little relief from that.  But I'm sure eventually well meaning people will get tired of seeing my family of 3 and want to see 4 of us, until eventually I am on the other side of the coin where people all of a sudden feel as though I have too many children and probably would make it their business to tell me so.  I don't think I will run into that problem, but you never know.  At any rate, I already know that there is just no pleasing some people, so I'm not worried about that.

Oh, and I hadn't realized, out of some of the infertility is... sentences, she made an infertility manifesto.  Go check it out.  It's great.

I have infertility

doesn't that phrase sound weird?

I think so, but I wish it didn't.

Sometimes, it bothers me that when we are diagnosed with infertility the phrase that works best is, "I'm infertile."  I have thought about this for a long time and wished for a better phrase.  I can't think of any other medical diagnosis that when you receive it, you then become it.  For example, do people say, "I'm breast cancer?", "I'm leukemia?", or "I'm kidney disease?"  No.  I guess some people say they're diabetic, but they can also say, "I have diabetes".  And while I don't let infertility define me, sometime just the fact that when I tell people "I'm infertile"  I feel like it has defined me.  I know this is just semantics, but I wish there was a better phrase.  I suppose if I start saying "I have infertility"  maybe it would catch on, but probably not.  At any rate, it would cause some confusion.  And that is always fun to do with fertiles.  Since adopting our child I have thought I might say, "I have overcome infertility", or "I'm an infertility survivor" like cancer survivors are able to say.

I don't know.  It is just something I have thought about in the past, and again now in the present.   What are your thoughts on this?

I was reminded of these thoughts I had because blogger Keiko at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed had a post where she wanted her readers to fill in the blank to the sentence:  Infertility is...

It was interesting to read what others wrote.  I added my own endings to the sentence.  Here they are:
my first thought was:
infertility is exhausting

second thought was
infertility is not the winner. I beat it. I am an infertility survivor

and this sentence goes along with the 2nd thought.  

infertility is not how I choose to define myself. 

Do you have infertility or are you infertile?  Maybe I am splitting hairs semantically, but I do think it matters at least mentally and how you view yourself and the particular brand of infertility you are fighting against.  

Embracing Adoption

A few weeks ago  I received a question from a reader.  The question is listed below.  I have thought about it a bit and I will do my best to answer this well thought out and sincere question.  I will try to illustrate how I came to embrace adoption through a story.  If anyone else has some advice or insight, feel free to share it.  I must also say that I like the nickname "Mrs. Joy"; that made me smile and brought me joy.

Question: 

Hi Mrs. Joy :)I have been following your sweet story, and feel blessed to have a glimpse in to your life. My husband feels like he is being prompted to adopt, so we are heading that way, but I am still struggling with the thought of not being pregnant, and actually giving birth to my baby. You said you had come to terms w/ it, was there something that helped you move past that feeling? I would really appreciate any advise, you are certianly a great example! Thanks!!! ~Haley

Answer:

To rephrase and summarize the question, it was: How did I come to terms with not being pregnant and actually giving birth to my child?

I think it was a process over time.  I don't know that it was any one thing.  

At some point early on in our infertility and realizing that having a baby was not going to be as easy as we had hoped I  happened to walk past the store "Motherhood Maternity" while in the mall.  At the point I had a breakdown.  I sat down on a bench and felt sorry for myself.  I don't know if I outright cried, but I wanted too.  I was angry and felt justified in my anger at my body, God, and those that easily become pregnant and just waltz into a store to buy maternity clothes.  All I wanted was to wear maternity clothes.  I wanted to get pregnant and have a baby.  Was that too much to ask?    

I had always been open to adoption and as time went on with the infertility treatments not working out I began to realize that adoption might really be something we might be involved in.  As time went on I realized this focus of "wearing maternity clothes" was a bit myopic.  Time and the sheer fact that infertility treatment after infertility treatment failed led us to seriously consider adoption.  When I found out I had a unicornuate uterus I learned that bedrest, preterm labor and c-section were likely in my future due to this diagnosis.  I had to give up the idea I had that I would have a natural unmedicated delivery, let alone carry a baby to term.  Trying to have twins via IVF was out of the question.  For me, these small bits of information helped me begin the process of accepting the fact that I would have to give up what little control I thought I had in this reproductive process.  

I realized there was more than one way to have children.  One would require maternity clothes, morning sickness, hormone fluctuations, ultrasounds to hear the heartbeat and learn the gender of the baby, registering for baby shower items, etc.  The other would require any length of waiting period, allowing someone else complete control over choosing us as parents, scrutiny from social workers, travel to any part of the US to meet birthparents and our child, a completely different way of announcing to friends and family of being matched, and of meeting our child for the first time, an intense amount of stress and joy in short spans of time, building relationships with people you never dreamed of, etc.  

So with time and this realization,  it really wasn't that difficult for me to "come to terms" with adoption as a means of growing our family.  Sometimes, yes, I would have a tinge of sadness if I thought, I wonder what my biological child would've looked like?  Or if I was feeling anxious or unsure of myself I would think, "why do I think I can be a good mother? or, "what if the child I adopt doesn't like me"?   It was one thing to take on the responsibility of bringing a biological child into the world, but to raise and parent an adoptive child made me really  put pressure on me to think about whether or not I was up to the task of being a good mother.   I think these questions and feelings are normal and important to recognize.  It is important to acknowledge the loss that is is to lose the dream of becoming pregnant and carrying your child.  I always recognized it as a unique and beautiful thing that I hoped to experience, so it while it was hard to set that dream aside, once I realized I had replaced it with another one just as beautiful and unique I was more than okay with adoption.  I was excited about the possibilities and joy the child we would adopt  would bring into our family.

I think having an open adoption was also nice in the fact that I know who my child will look like.  I really enjoyed getting to know my son's birth parents.  I know their personalities, traits, and physical characteristics.  My son gets his amazing good looks from his birthparents.  I will be able to tell him that and tell him what they look like and other things about them.  That gives me peace and hope that my son will be able to "come to terms" with any "loss" he might feel with adoption.  

I think time and just the realization that if I wanted children, and I did, that this was the way it could happen, and probably the only way it would happen.  I read stories and articles about adoption and I saw it as something miraculous and amazing.  I realized that not many people have the opportunity to adopt a child, and that I was lucky to be able to have this unique experience.  And unique and amazing it has been.

I think serious consideration of adoption is just a natural progression that occurs if having a child biologically is just not feasible.  It doesn't mean the child I adopt is loved any less, or that I am sorry we turned to adoption to grow our family.  I truly hope my child will know that.   I also hope society and people will realize that too.   I am so grateful to have adopted our child, it has been a great experience.  

The night or two before we left to go see our child in the hospital and finalize the adoption I had to go to the mall.  I went to the side I never go to, and saw a certain store, you guessed it, Motherhood Maternity.   I hadn't seen the store since that time years ago, and as my mind reflected back on how devastated I was at the time, this time all I could do was laugh.  As far as I was concerned, I would never enter that store, and that was perfectly fine with me.  I had other things to do, I had to hurry and find the item I was looking for and then hurry home to finish everything else I was occupied with for the adoption.  That was a great feeling. 

To get to this place here are some other things that helped: 

Blogging and writing in my journal helped me organize my thoughts and feelings.  Reading scriptures and uplifting talks by church leaders helped me feel at peace with my infertility and not be upset with my body's inability to become pregnant. Praying about what direction to take helped.  Exercising helped.  Good friends and family helped.  Humor and laughing about infertility helped.  Focusing on others and trying to help them helped.  

My advice to you is to be patient with yourself.  Let yourself take the time you need to be okay with not being pregnant and having a biological child so you can give yourself fully to the adoption process and your child that you adopt.  

I hope my story and thoughts have helped you.  

In limbo between 2 worlds

Lately, I have been in a bit of a quandary as to trying to decide where I belong in this blogging world.  I made it to the other side!  I came out of this ordeal with a baby in my arms and now I want to continue blogging about the joy he has brought me.  But I worry that in doing so I will hurt and cause pain to those of you who are my dear friends in cyberspace.  It could be that many of you who used to read my blog no longer do, and that’s okay.  I understand how hard it can be to feel happy that someone else has a child, but to feel so sad that you still don’t. 

I feel that in many ways infertility helped me to learn to find joy in the day to day of life.  I am a much more confidant person and happy person now than I was when I was in the throes of focusing on what I didn’t have and how infertility was cheating me out of a happy life. 

You may read this and say, oh that’s easy to say now that she has a baby, but honestly, the day before I got the call that we had been chosen by our child’s birth parents I was doing a triathlon training bike/run and as I ran I thought, “I am happy.  I have found joy.”  And I am so glad I had that feeling and experience before I received the news about our adoption.  This was what I was ultimately working towards.  This was something I could control.  I couldn’t control when a baby would come, I couldn’t force myself to become pregnant, and I certainly couldn’t force a birth mother of father to choose me to parent his or her child.  I could only control my outlook on life and my attitude. 

So in many ways I feel like I no longer belong here.  But at the same time I feel as though I do.  I have learned so much and just because I will talk about parenting it is through the prism of infertility and adoption.  And also through the prism of finding the joy in the highs and lows of this new adventure. 

I want to tell you of the thrill and confusion it was to fill out my child’s medical record as I tried to figure out where I was supposed to sign and put my info.  I was now the mom and the parent, not the patient.  At the doctor’s office when they are ready to see him, they call us by his name, not mine.  It is such a confusing and joyful moment in my life. 

So as you see, I am not sure if I fit into this new mommy world either.  I have a completely different outlook and perspective than the vast majority of these other amazing moms.  I love my pile of baby laundry.  Although it is growing steeper and steeper by the day and I don’t know if I will ever get around to folding it.  I just dig in the pile to find something cute and we get up and go.  I love my messy house.  I will take the sleep deprivation that comes with this new job any day.  Sure, I will admit, at 1:30 am I had a sleep deprivation moment and wasn’t the happier camper in the world, but then I remembered how lucky I was and that immediately cured my frustration at my screaming child.  So because I am so happy to experience these seemingly terrible portions of motherhood I kind of feel like a foreigner in this new world.  But that’s okay.  And so, I think if I can continue to blog about the happiness of parenthood, maybe it could also help those who are beaten down and tired of the day to day grind of it all.  And I don't want to become beaten down by the day to day difficulties that do come with parenthood.  I am enjoying this new pair of rose colored glasses I have and don't want to take them off.

I don’t know.  Ultimately, I just want those of you that I care about in this blogging world to not be hurt as I talk about my newfound joy of motherhood.

And I am sorry to admit it, but I am probably now a very annoying person for an infertile person to see on FB.  I post a lot of pics of my little guy for my friends and family to see.  I tried not to do too many, but they all love him and want to see him, so how can I not?  

A few addendums to the previous post

Some who have read my previous post about infertility and baby loss have gotten the wrong idea.  I no longer feel the pain or loss that can come with infertility.  This was resolved awhile ago.  My pain was no longer my inability to get pregnant and give birth to my child, my pain was not being able to have children come into my home who would consider me and call me their mom.  I realize that we are all in different places in our journey through infertility and growing our families.

Sure, it would be great to wake up and be pregnant, but I don't expect it, and don't feel sad that it doesn't happen.  I have embraced this new way of growing my family.  Will I pursue more infertility treatments in the future?  Who knows?  You never want to rule anything out in this game, but at this point, I have had my fill of the RE, stirrups, hormones, BFN, etc.

It is also important to note that adopting or having a child does not cure infertility.  Sometimes it still takes time to come to terms with the emotional and psychological pain infertility has caused.  And it is important to come to terms with it.  Thankfully, I feel that I have.  Writing in this blog, learning of your stories, and focusing on finding joy on a daily basis are just some of the ways that helped me to be able to do that.

But I don't feel like my body is broken.  No one has the ideal body.

Also, no one has the ideal family.  Realizing this helped me deal with and come to terms with the fact that my family size wasn't what I wanted it to be.

My ultimate goal has always been to be a mom and to have children in my home calling me mom.  It took time to come to this realization.  I had to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be pregnant or that I wouldn't hear my baby's heartbeat or find out his or her sex via an ultrasound at the doctor's office.  And I have embraced the perks that come with not being pregnant or going through labor.  I am thrilled that we were able to grow our family through adoption and I look forward to adopting more children.

And as far as people telling me how brave I was to go on FB...Yes, it was difficult to put myself out there.   And I still wonder if maybe I should delete it.  We'll see.  Not because what I feel has changed, but that maybe the people that read it there will also get the wrong idea about my feelings on infertility and our adoption.

And if I didn't have my little guy with me, I am pretty sure I would not have said anything unless I had already been brave enough to use the outlet of FB to get the word out that we were hoping to adopt.  There are a lot of insensitive people who say stupid things.  And whether or not you want every person you know on FB to know about such a tender and difficult trial you are experiencing is up to you.  We all know how difficult this journey is.  Sure, it would be easier if we all talked about it.  And it sure would be much easier if the general public knew how to better talk about pain, infertility and infant loss.

I just take one day at a time, one step at a time.

Facebook : Baby Loss Month post

I woke up at 3 am to feed my little guy and couldn't go back to sleep.  Around 5:30 I got tired of lying in bed and started putzing around the house. I messed around on the computer, fed the little guy (I think from here on out I will refer to him as LG), read, and then reflected on an idea that had been vaguely mulling around in my head.  And the following is the result.  I decided to write a little something on FB about infertility and baby loss.  I lumped infertility into it because, as infertiles, even though we have not physically lost a baby, we deal with the unrealistic, but yes, lost dream of having children at the drop of a hat.  I came out on FB, because, frankly, now it was easy.  It is now clearly evident, I think, that we had infertility issues and were blessed with a baby through the miracle of adoption.  We naturally keep the pain and diagnosis of infertility hidden, especially on FB, for various reasons which I won't go into at this time, but now, that my infertility is no longer hidden, I felt strongly about writing something about it, especially on FB.

So here is what I wrote and posted:

I don’t usually post things like this here, but I just wanted to, so I am.  It has been an exciting, crazy, busy, fun month, as many of you know.   But, as an infertile I would feel remised if I did not post something here on FB about October being Baby Loss Awareness month.  It is a month to remember all types of pregnancy loss and infant death including miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, etc.  So while you would have to live in a cave without any other human contact to not know that it was Breast Cancer Awareness month, (not knocking Breast Cancer Month), but you may not have known that is also Baby Loss Awareness Month.  And I am sure it is many other things month: like nephew appreciation month, Hispanic heritage month, etc.  I will let someone else speak about those causes.  The reason I am putting this on FB is because FB can be a cruel reminder to infertile people or those coping with infant loss of just how much we are missing out on.  Many infertile people comes to hate FB, because as I remember one fellow infertile said something to the effect of, “FB is like opening a Christmas card about someone else’s amazing life, only you have to do it 365 times a year”.  Not to make any of you feel bad, that’s just the reality of it.  So, for those who are infertile, I know your pain and I hope it will be relieved soon. 

So, I just wanted to tell all of those that have experienced an infant loss that I am heartbroken for you and your loss and I hope you can find peace and comfort in some way and in some time.  For those who have not experienced the pain of infertility or infant loss and sometimes wonder what you could say or do; well since I don’t have space to write a novel here, I would merely say, be sensitive, be compassionate, be understanding, and reach out and let them know you care.  

That’s all.  Thanks for reading.  

October

Of all the months of the year, for me, this one seems to always revolve around infertility and children.   I spent many an October crossing my fingers and holding onto hope only to find myself in tears wondering when the hole and ache in my heart would heal.  So, the fact that my hubby and I were hoping to adopt our child in October filled me with some fear and trepidation.

October is a month filled with family fun with the onset of fall and Halloween.  I have always loved seeing kids trick or treating and filled with excitement as they run around in their costumes.  I have fond memories myself of trick or treating and enjoying the smell of candles burning in jack-o-lanterns.

But with every IVF treatment ending in disaster in October, I came to hate and dread this lovely month.  Holidays are so much more fun when kids are involved.  They create the magic and excitement that comes with the holidays.

With a child in our home, October has become a happy and exciting time of year again.  We visited the pumpkin patch as a family and I reveled in the peace and happiness I felt to have a child to call my own.

For many of you, you are still waiting for the laughter of a child or even more children to come to your home.  And my heart aches for you and I hope it happens soon.

The irony was not lost on my husband and me when on our stressful adoption placement day as we were waiting for time to slowly tick by until papers would be signed that Tom Petty's song, "The waiting is the hardest part" came on.  We nervously laughed, then sighed, moaned, and groaned.  My husband said, "no kidding".  For all of those still waiting, I am thinking of you and I know how hard it is.

Adoption is about love

I will probably never by #2 on the stirrup queen's ICLW list again, and I have been trying to figure out what to say.  Do I say something witty or something profound?  Do I talk about infertility, adoption, or upcoming baby stuff?

I suppose I will write from my heart and write about adoption and more specifically about birth or expectant parents.

I have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration of the birth parents of our "soon to be" child.  I think they are amazing and selfless people.

My husband and I are humbled to have been chosen by them to parent their child.

We look forward to telling our son about them and how much they love him.

They are doing something for us that we cannot do for ourselves.  They are bringing a beautiful child into our home.  Adoption truly is a miracle.  I know they will experience heart ache and pain in this process, I only hope my prayers and love for them can ease some of that for them.

I have been thinking a lot about what gift I can give them during placement, and while I have some ideas, everything just seems so small and insignificant in comparison to what they are doing for us.  So, while I will give them a small tangible gift they can hold, I think the best thing I can give them is continued contact (as we have already agreed to do) with us.  I can also give them the peace of mind through the months and years that will follow that their child is loved by us.  I will also always hold them in high esteem and tell our son how much they love him as well.

Adoption truly is about love.  I am so grateful to have my life touched by the miracle of adoption.  Many years ago when we started down this infertile path, my mind turned to think about the fact and hope that we would someday be able to experience this great miracle of adoption in our lives.  I am filled with love for my future son, love for his birth parents, and love for all those that have helped me and continue to help me in this journey.

The Infertile Brain

I loved this post by one of my bloggy friends, Augusta,  because it captured some of the feelings I have been having as it relates to our upcoming adoption.  Augusta is referring to embryo donation, but I think it applies to all of us with infertile brains.  She said, "Do I have to leave the safe platform of my fears and leap wholeheartedly, believing unequivocally that this process will work. Is it reasonable to be afraid, and does being afraid mean that it will fail? Ah, the superstitious workings of an infertile's brain. I tell ya."


This is where I am in my "infertile brain".  I have become accustomed to not having things work out in the infertile world I live in, so I am getting a little nervous that I my heart might be crushed through adoption.  I know I should be positive and I am, but my track record makes me a little skittish at times.  I am still hesitant to buy anything.  I am still hesitant to tell hardly anyone.  A few people when they hear the news have excitedly said I need to have a baby shower, but I don't want to have a baby shower until after the baby comes.  I wish I could just let my fears go, but frankly I am terrified.  


What do I fear?  I fear my heart will be broken.  I fear all the incessant questions people will ask about the adoption. I fear the questions that would come if things did fall through.  I fear I will have wasted all this time being afraid when I could've been celebrating.  I just feel like a deer in the headlights paralyzed and hoping the car won't crash into me.


So, I guess I need to answer the questions Augusta posed. 
I think I must leave the safe platform of my fears.  


I think of when pools used to have super duper high diving boards.  Every summer I would go to the pool w/my siblings and we would jump off the diving boards.  The high one was so scary though.  I would usually have enough courage to do it once or twice a summer.  It would be so scary and I dreaded walking up the stairs to the diving board.  But once I was at the top, fear and all, I needed to jump.  I wouldn't dream of going back down the stairs with everyone staring at me wimping out.   I don't know that I ever leaped off the diving board.  I think I merely walked off hoping I would make it to the bottom alive.  When I hit the water and realized I had survived, I would feel relieved.  Proud of myself for doing it, but I never really enjoyed it.  


So, I guess that is my answer.  Maybe this whole process is like going off that super duper high diving board.  It must be done.  Maybe now I am older and wiser to be able to leap or jump off the board with more confidence that I will make it as scary as it might be.  And who knows, maybe I will enjoy it a bit.  But I do think it is reasonable to be afraid.  Just as every year going off that diving board was just as scary as it had been the previous year.  But even though I was afraid, every year, I survived.  


So, I would have to say no, being afraid does not mean failure, being afraid means being human, infertile or not. 


Will I let my fear get the best of me and send me back down the stairs afraid to go off the diving board?  No, not a chance.  I am infertile but who cares?  I am adopting a beautiful baby in a few weeks.  I will try not to let fear rob me of this excitement.   


I am going to jump in the pool.
SPLASH!
Come join me.  Let's have a pool party.

Flip Flopping

Sometimes I feel like a politician.  There are politicians who are known for frequently switching their positions.  Whether or not you agree with them is beside the point.  This is just what they are known for.

Well, I am beginning to wonder if I am a flip flopper.  I can’t seem to make up my mind.  One day I am totally fine with God’s plan for me, and think I can do this, and then the next, not so much.  I feel confused and upset and aggravated.  Then I go to bed and wake up and think, okay I can do this, things will work out.  All of this flip flopping is driving me crazy. 

Here’s how the latest occurred.  It was Sunday, and I was talking about something that has been on my mind for awhile.  My hubby simply asked, “have you prayed about it?” 

I replied something to the effect of: “yeah, but just praying about something doesn’t make it happen”.  Sometimes my hubby is so full of faith and I just feel like I am floundering.  Things are so simple for him, and so complex for me.  I was slightly annoyed that he thought I could just pray and things would be solved.  Didn’t he have any idea how many prayers of mine have gone unanswered?  I was slightly upset at him, but we worked it out, because really it was God I was mad at.  I was mad because how am I supposed to believe I can pray to Him and have things work out when it seems like so many things aren’t?  

Of course this occurred minutes before we were supposed to go to church.  I didn’t want to go.  I never just skip church, but so many times this year I have wanted to.  This was another one of those days.  I almost stayed, but then with the convincing of my hubby and sock monkey I decided to go.  (If you just read that last sentence you will know how weird I am.  I just love my stuffed monkeys)  My hubby was having Stanley my sock monkey talk with his arms folded asking me why I wouldn’t go to church, and how was he ever going to learn about God if I didn’t teach him, etc.   And then he would kiss me with his big fat red sock monkey lips.  It was pretty funny. 

Anyhow, so I went to church, it was okay.  I was getting through it until the last class.  It was the worst.  And it made me wish I had stayed at home.  It was about the scriptures and I had to hear people talking about how the scriptures are a great guide for them and when we aren’t praying and reading the scriptures that is when life is the worst.  That isn’t necessarily true.  I read and pray and life still brings hard times.  So I got mad and sad again.  It was one of the longest classes in the world, but finally it ended and I was able to go home. 

One of the hard parts about it was last week my hubby and I had discussed the talk this lesson was on and we had a great discussion and I was full of faith and conviction about how great the scriptures were, but now a few days later, I was bitter and sad.  I was just flip flopping again.

One of my biggest fears with all of this infertility stuff was that I would end up turning away from God.  But many times it seems that He has turned away from me.  I am trying to hang on to my faith in Him, but sometimes it is really hard.  

Oh well, life goes on, right?  Yep.  So I went to bed, felt a little better when I woke up, and now am back to feeling a little “blah” after writing this.  Oh well, guess I better flip flop my emotions again and go work out or eat a yummy breakfast.  

Or maybe I’ll see if I can run for mayor or council member.  With all of experience with flip flopping my feelings on God and life in general maybe I’ll be pretty good at politics.  Yeah right.  I would hate to be a politician.

32 and not pregnant

Ever heard of this show?  It's my reality show.

I have a friend who said the "16 and pregnant" reality show came to her hospital and filmed a 16 yr old having her baby.  I have never watched the show, and have only heard a little bit about it.  Wikipedia says, "It follows the stories of pregnant teenage girls in high school dealing with the hardships of teenage pregnancy."  I am sure it would be interesting to see, but since hearing about the title of this show last year, I have often wondered why there isn't a reality show that airs right after it titled "32 and not pregnant"

That could be quite a double header.

I used to really want to be able to get knocked up, (by my husband of course), and I would especially get upset when I would hear about a teenager or a druggie getting pregnant.  It just wasn't fair.  But as we all know, life just isn't fair.

Anyhow, here I am quickly coming to the end of my 32nd year and the show's season is almost over.  When I first thought up this title in my head many months ago after hearing about the "16 and pregnant" show I felt bitter when I thought about it, but now I am happy to report that I am okay with being "32 and not pregnant".

I have put that dream aside and come to terms with it.  I remember when I first started down this infertile path and I was determined to beat this and by golly, I was going to get pregnant and have a natural birth.  I'm a nurse, I know how everything works and what is best.  Right?  Wrong.  Well, when I was diagnosed with my unicornuate uterus, I thought, "ok, no problem, I will still get pregnant, but I guess I will be okay with having a C-section if I need to.  Then, came all the IF treatments, and all the negative results.  I began to beg and plead to just get pregnant.  Who cares how it happened, or how the baby came out, I just wanted to get pregnant.  Now, here I am still not pregnant, but now I am fine with that.  I suppose I should change the title of my reality show to "32 and childless" but that sounds a little depressing to me.  And if there is one feeling I hate feeling, it is being depressed.  That is no fun.

I guess an alternative name for my reality show could be: "32 yr old future mother"

Now while my husband and I wait to adopt a child I realize that  I have relinquished all control of pregnancy and birth process over to someone else.  In some ways that is a little liberating.  I no longer have to stress about whether or not I will get pregnant.  I don't get depressed when AF comes.  I know too much about what can go wrong during a pregnancy or labor, which was always a little scary to think about.

The non liberating part of relinquishing this control, is that I am no longer in control.  There is no timetable as to when I might have my child lovingly placed in my arms.  Sometimes it feels like I am in elementary school waiting to be chosen to play on the baseball team, only I'm blindfolded while I wait.  Who will choose me?  When will I be chosen?  How many other people am I with that are also waiting to be chosen?  What are my odds of being chosen soon so I can get out on the field and play?

I hope I get chosen to be a part of Team Mom soon.

And when I do I can change my reality show title to "32 yr old mom".

Now that would be a blockbuster hit.

If you're infertile and you know it: Stomp Your Feet

Have you ever felt like that?
I know I have.  


Well today I checked on a blogger friend at myinfertilitywoes and she had attached a link to her blogger friend Lily at The infertile mind.  Her friend had made an inspirational e book on infertility that can be viewed as a video or a pdf which you can download from her site. It was great.  I was so glad I viewed it, and I hope you will too.


Her ebook helped me put in perspective the anger and sadness I had felt regarding my infertility this weekend after I was told I was "still young" and "had plenty of time", and then later when a different person told me to "enjoy this time I had without kids".  


While I would've rather these friends hadn't told me these things, there is some truth to what they said.  


I am still young, and even if I am old when I have kids, I won't be too old to love them.  I may not be a celebrity, but they certainly aren't the only ones who can have kids way past their prime.  And I should enjoy the time I have to be with just my husband, I dreamed of this time when we would be able to spend time together as a married couple.  And if I only focus on what I don't have I will spoil this time that I do have.


So, if you're infertile and you know it: Blog about it. 


That might help.

Searching for Meaning in Life

Over the last 2-3 wks I have been reading Viktor Frankl’s book: Man’s Search for Meaning.  The following is a good summary written by the Vienna, Austria (AP) on September 3, 1997.  The quoted information was found on this website:  http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/frankl/frankl.html

“Frankl survived the Holocaust, even though he was in four Nazi death camps including Auschwitz from 1942-45, but his parents and other members of his family died in the concentration camps.

During and partly because of his suffering in concentration camps, Frankl developed a revolutionary approach to psychotherapy known as logotherapy.

At the core of his theory is the belief that humanity's primary motivational force is the search for meaning, and the work of the logotherapist centers on helping the patient find personal meaning in life, however dismal the circumstances may be.

Frankl's teachings have been described as the Third Vienna School of Psychotherapy, after that of Sigmund Freud and Alfred Adler.

In "Man's Search for Meaning," which has sold approximately nine million copies worldwide and been translated into twenty-three languages. The Library of Congress called the book one of the ten most influential books of the twentieth century. Frankl said: "There is nothing in the world, I venture to say, that would so effectively help one to survive even the worst conditions as the knowledge that there is a meaning in one's life."

According to logotherapy, meaning can be discovered meaning can be discovered by three ways: "(1) by creating a work or doing a deed; (2) by experiencing something or encountering someone; and (3) by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering," he wrote.

"We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation," he insisted, a theory he gradually developed as a concentration camp survivor.

"As such, I also bear witness to the unexpected extent to which man is capable of defying and braving even the worst conditions conceivable,"   

The book was very inspiring.  Frankl divides the book into two parts—in the first he writes about “experiences in a concentration camp” and in the second, he writes about “logotherapy in a nutshell”.  And as I read I read the book I was able to make a few connections to the struggle of infertility.  As I share this I am in no way minimizing the suffering the Jews experienced.  I cannot comprehend the suffering the endured at the hands of evil and sadistic people.  And I am in complete awe of how the Jews overcame this terrible cruelty.

That said, as I read I had been feeling down again about infertility and wondering how long I would have to wait for an adoption to occur, and was feeling a bit overwhelmed with this trial.  And while I completely realize that my life is not terrible or hopeless, as I read, I thought that maybe infertility was my “concentration camp” and I wondered if I would survive the emotions and pain of it to arrive at day of liberation when my child would be placed in my arms.  I then had this stream of thoughts and questions: How would I spend my days as I waited for liberation?  And what if I was never liberated?  What then?  Could I rise to the occasion that this suffering had dealt me?  Could I find meaning in other ways?  Could I find meaning in accomplishing other things?  Could I find meaning through experiencing the goodness or life, nature, or people?  And as Frankl said, Could I experience “another human being in his very uniqueness by loving him”?  (man’s search for meaning p. 115)  Could I find meaning in my suffering and change my attitude towards this unavoidable suffering?  Suffering through infertility has taught me so many things, the last thing I want it to teach me is to give up. 

This book helped remind me in whatever way and at whatever time liberation from my suffering comes, I must find meaning during this time of waiting, or else I might not make it to my day of liberation. 

In conclusion, a few thoughts come to mind.  I used to love the phrase: “knowledge is power” until I was heard someone say that unless you act on that knowledge, it is meaningless.  So now that I once again reminded of what I need to do to find meaning in life and manage the pains of infertility, I hope I can act on this knowledge.  

Jumbled Up Thoughts

This week I was reflecting a lot on my relationship with God and my thoughts on prayer.  I had a lot of different thoughts, and I will see if I can effectively summarize them.

Typically it is just when I start to think things are going pretty well, and I am emotionally and spiritually back to where I was before all of this craziness with infertility started is when I fall back on my face and realize that there is no going back to what I was like before infertility.  There is only going forward.  And I can choose to go forward in faith or I can choose to simply go forward without it. 

On Friday I happened to catch a few minutes of Dennis Prager on talk radio.   He was talking to a lady that whose sister had died a premature death.  Her belief in prayer was now being threatened.  Dennis Prager brought up some good points.  He asked her “When you have heard of the millions upon millions who died prematurely [before]…how did you reconcile that with your faith?”  She responded that she “accepted it as a part of life, and honestly doesn’t know”.  Prager then stated that a “very big mistake within major religions… is to assume that our requests will be answered.  In the vast majority of instances, God says no.”  To which I would reply—"No" is an answer, just not the one we were hoping for.  Which doesn’t necessarily help me feel any better, and occasionally makes me feel bitter.   

He then went on to give another example of how a lady called him up one day and informed him that she now believed in capital punishment for murder.  This was not due to anything he had said to convince her, but due to the fact that her brother had been murdered. 

When I heard this, I knew I was in the same situation—my relationship with God and feeling about prayer was being threatened due to my negative feelings with infertility.  When others dealt with infertility or loss, I was so naïve about what they were going through and accepted it as part of the trials in life.  But now that I was STILL going through it, it wasn’t so easy to brush away.  Would I lose my faith over it?  That was the question.

At times I have accepted God’s will, at times I have been angry, and at this point in time I was tired and confused.  Would I now after everything turn my back on God because in my weakness to accept His will it seemed like He had turned on me?  I would be the one to lose in a battle against God.  That much I knew.  I fully believe in the doctrine of my religion and I had made a commitment to myself and to God that I would act accordingly to these doctrines.  So who would be the liar and go back on their promises now?  It would be me.  And if I faltered, then God would be off the hook.  It’s crazy the way my mind thinks.  God can do whatever He wants, who was I to force His hand?  I knew that wouldn’t work. 

And on top of all this, I was having a problem with prayer, again.

Going back to Dennis Prager, in his radio broadcast he continued by saying that when we pray “we shouldn’t say please give me X, Y, and Z,” instead we should say, “because I believe in you and love you, I would like you to know what I would like.”   

All that my mind registered from hearing that was “since God typically says no, why am I bothering to ask Him for help?”  Also the phrase:  “unmet expectations create frustrations” came to my mind.  I thought, "that was my problem—I was expecting God to help me, and when He wasn’t, I was feeling frustrated."  So my solution was to not ask for His help.  I began to pray again, and didn’t ask for anything, but I was still feeling frustrated and upset.  I think it was because I didn't believe He would help me if I asked.  

On Sunday I was poking around on my church’s website and ended up reading a talk by Rex Pinnegar about prayer.  (“Peace through Prayer,” Ensign, May 1993,  65 )  Peace through Prayer

This was the part I especially liked:

“There is terrible suffering in our world today. Tragic things happen to good people. God does not cause them, nor does He always prevent them. He does, however, strengthen us and bless us with His peace, through earnest prayer.

“It is not the usual purpose of prayer to serve us like Aladdin’s lamp, to bring us ease without effort,” Elder Richard L. Evans wrote. “Prayer is not a matter of asking only. It should not be always as the beggar’s upturned hand. Often the purpose of prayer is to give us strength to do what needs to be done, wisdom to see the way to solve our own problems, and ability to do our best in our tasks.

“We need to pray … for strength to endure, for faith and fortitude to face what sometimes must be faced.” (The Man and the Message, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1973, p. 289.)

It was the Lord himself who taught us by His own example how to find peace when the answers we receive are not what we asked for. On the eve of His crucifixion, with “soul … exceeding sorrowful, even unto death,” Jesus knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed to the Father, saying, “O my Father, if it be possible [and he acknowledged ‘all things are possible unto thee’], let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.” (Matt. 26:38–39; see also Mark 14:36.)

We can only try to imagine the anguish the Savior felt when we read in the Gospels that He was “sore amazed and very heavy” (Mark 14:33), that He “fell on his face” and prayed not once, but a second time, and then a third (Matt. 26:39, 42, 44). “Father, if thou be willing remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.” (Luke 22:42.)

We cannot imagine the anguish of a loving Father, who, knowing what had to be done, accepted His Beloved Son’s willingness to suffer for all mankind. In this agony Christ was not left alone. As if the Father were saying, “I cannot take it from you, but I can and will send you strength and peace,” “there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.” (Luke 22:43.)

If we, like the Savior, have the faith to put our trust in our Father in Heaven, to submit to His will, the true spirit of peace will come as a witness and strength that He has heard and answered our prayers.

If we resist the inspiration of God and turn from His promptings, we are left to our own confusion and lack of peace.

Sometimes, when our prayers are not answered as we desire, we may feel the Lord has rejected us or that our prayer was in vain. We may begin to doubt our worthiness before God, or even the reality and power of prayer. That is when we must continue to pray with patience and faith and to listen for that peace.”

Reading this helped a little bit.  Now I just need to put it into practice.  I like that last paragraph, I think it summarizes how I was feeling.  

I hope that those of you who are going through hard times will be able to find some peace through your trials.  

Feeling Better

It is amazing what:

• a good cry
• a good hug
• an husband's listening ear
• a bit of sleep
• and a kind blogger comment

can do for you. I made it to bed last night. My sweet husband tucked me in, sang me little orphan Annie's song: "The sun'll come out tomorrow", and thankfully, I feel asleep.

When I woke up this morning, I felt better. And I remembered a phrase from a talk I liked so I went to the computer to read it this morning before heading off to work. This talk was given in 1996, but I have always remembered this analogy for dealing with adversity. But I was sure surprised to see that the title of this talk was: Finding Joy in Life: Here's the Link: LDS.org - Ensign Article - Finding Joy in Life

I liked this part: "sadness, disappointment, and severe challenge are events in life, not life itself. I do not minimize how hard some of these events are. They can extend over a long period of time, but they should not be allowed to become the confining center of everything you do. The Lord inspired Lehi to declare the fundamental truth, “Men are, that they might have joy.” 1 That is a conditional statement: “they might have joy.” It is not conditional for the Lord. His intent is that each of us finds joy. It will not be conditional for you as you obey the commandments, have faith in the Master, and do the things that are necessary to have joy here on earth."

And then this was the part I remembered this morning when I woke up: A pebble held close to the eye appears to be a gigantic obstacle. Cast on the ground, it is seen in perspective. Likewise, problems or trials in our lives need to be viewed in the perspective of scriptural doctrine. Otherwise they can easily overtake our vision, absorb our energy, and deprive us of the joy and beauty the Lord intends us to receive here on earth. Some people are like rocks thrown into a sea of problems. They are drowned by them. Be a cork. When submerged in a problem, fight to be free to bob up to serve again with happiness.

I had remembered the part about the "pebble", but I had forgotten the "cork" portion. When I woke up and had a new perspective I realized that I will be fine going to my sisters. I just needed to stop focusing on the difficult facet of the trip and remember all the great things that would happen--I"ll see my brother, some nephews and nieces, and see my in-laws, it will be great. How could I have forgotten all that? It was because I let this stinky infertile fact block my vision and perspective.

The rest of the talk is great, but I gotta go. I hope I can remember to keep the "pebble of infertility" on the ground in perspective, and be a "cork" the keeps coming up and finding happiness.