One Good Egg

Smashing Heads

2011-11-13T21:46:00.008-05:00

I used to bump P's head into doorjambs on a regular basis. Not on purpose, of course (no calls to CPS, please). But I'd be carrying him from one room to another, trying to remember where I'd left the thermometer or his shoes or his bottle and then. . .THUNK. . .followed by. . .Waaaah! To be followed by the internal tongue lashing at my self for being such a rotten mom that I'd cause a head injury to this amazing child that I was caring for until the state officially made me his parent. To then be followed by the worry that I really did hurt him and that I would have to bring him to the emergency room and CPS would decide I was too careless to be a mom and take him from me. Fun times, those were. Eventually, I got better at figuring out how to enter and leave a room without giving P a concussion.

It occurred to me recently that there's the possibility that my clumsiness may have something to do with adoption. I think that maybe part of the reason pregnant women get big (other than carrying a child in their uterus) is to prepare them for parenthood after. If you've become used to maneuvering carefully through doorways for a few months, perhaps that carries over to maneuvering carefully as you carry your infant. . .who grows a bit every month during which you become accustomed to his size and shape and adjust accordingly as you carry him and so avoid walking him into doorjambs. Maybe because we adopted P I just needed a few extra months to get used to his space in my arms. I needed to catch up.

Or maybe not? Maybe all my friends who gave birth to their children caused them near-concussions on a regular basis, but never told me? Maybe it's not an adoption-related issue at all and I'm just clumsy. That's a real possibility.

2011-11-09T21:14:00.007-05:00

I'm still here. It's hard for me to know what to write sometimes. Navigating through adoption is one part of my life, but it's a fairly small part at the moment due primarily to P's age and somewhat due to our lack of relationship with his birth family. My time is mostly spent just living life as a working mom of a three year old. Adoption isn't front and center. And I kind of feel that the reason people tune in here is to read about adopting after infertility or adopting from foster care. I don't know that my adventures trying to get P to wear pants (yes, that is a real issue in our home) are what they're looking for. But I have nothing else to offer at the moment, so from here on out this blog will be a mix of whatever is happening in my life---the terrible (and awesome) threes, relationships, adoption, body image, and a partridge in a pear tree, or whatever else may come my way.

2011-05-15T00:09:00.003-04:00

I didn't call the next morning or the one after that. I waited until DH and I could have time to have a conversation about this possibility of a second child. Immediately being told "Absolutely not" isn't much of a conversation. When we finally did talk, I told DH that I really want to do this. That a sibling isn't taking away from P; it's a gift. That I would be thinking about this for a while because although his No would make my decision for me, it didn't change what I was feeling in my heart. The end result was the same. We're not going to adopt again. I can't force a situation on DH that he really doesn't want to be part of. I called P's adoption worker and left a message, explaining that we weren't able to move forward with the situation and shared some of DH's concerns. She wrote back a kind email thanking us for considering the situation and stating:

the fact that you are so focused on P's best interest is one of the many reasons I thought of you for the child I am currently working with. P is lucky to have both of you.

Of course, we all know that we're the ones who are lucky to have P in our lives, but it was a lovely reply. I'm doing better with the whole situation as time passes. I don't want to live my life as though it's lacking in some way because I have only one child. I know I'm beyond fortunate to have my one beautiful boy. I'm trying to focus on appreciating what I have.

Possibilities

2011-05-02T16:42:00.004-04:00

P's adoption worker called me this afternoon to "check in." Since we finalized over 6 months ago, I was surprised to hear from her. She gave me her cell phone number to call her back and said I could call until 9 o'clock tonight. Little warning bells started going off in my head. I called anyway. She's trying to find a home for an 8 month old legally free baby girl. She asked if we're interested. She didn't know if our reluctance to remain in the pool was due to wanting only one child or if it was about not wanting to deal with legal risk and all that it entails again. I told her that I'm shocked she doesn't have a line out the door for this little one.* I told her I'd talk to DH and call her back tomorrow. What I wanted to tell her was, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

DH has had serious reservations about adopting again. Sure enough, he immediately shot down the idea. He doesn't think he can physically handle two kids. He worries that we couldn't financially handle two kids. He loves taking care of P during the day and is afraid having a baby would take away from P. He's concerned that this little girl may have more special needs than we can deal with (there's prenatal drug exposure and mild developmental delays and the unknown). I totally understand all of his reasons. I know I need to respect his reasons even if I have more faith than he does in our abilities.

But, oh, this is breaking my heart. I didn't even realize how much I long for another child until this afternoon's phone call. Now, I'm sitting here imagining a sister for P, a daughter for us, knowing I'm just torturing myself because it's not going to happen. DH is unchangeable once he makes up his mind. Even so, I'm not going to call the social worker back to give our answer until tomorrow. A lot can happen in 16 hours. It's not likely, but keeping the possibility open even just until the morning makes me feel a bit better.

*Realistically, I think there's more to the situation than she can share with me now. There are many possibilities. Since we aren't at the point of a disclosure meeting, she can't tell me all. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around why there wouldn't be families fighting over this baby. A legally free 8 month old available for adoption is unheard of.

2011-04-30T22:09:00.010-04:00

IVF always works. Everyone who uses it is successful and has a baby.

So I'm a little late on the Bust a Myth post, but the theme of my life seems to be better late than never, so it's only fitting that I'm trying to pump this out less than two hours before National Infertility Awareness Week ends. The reason for my tardiness is that I've been going back and forth about which myth I felt called to bust. I thought perhaps the one about not being able to adopt a baby when doing foster-adopt. Or the just adopt one. Or the just relax one. But in the end, it's the IVF myth that has caused me the most heartache and so, for me, is the most deserving of being busted.

I started 4 IVF cycles. Two of them ended in transfer. Two of them ended in IUIs due to poor egg quantity and probably quality. None of them ended in pregnancy. I was ready to keep on going until I reached my health insurance provider's limit of 6 paid IVF cycles (I live in a state that mandates infertility coverage). I had a friend who was able to get 7 IVF cycles paid for by her insurer and got pregnant with her daughter on cycle #7. I bought into the myth. I figured if I just got in enough cycles, I would hit the jackpot like everyone else who did IVF. . .

And then I had my first, and then my second, failed cycle. . .

And my RE brought up the donor egg talk. . .

And I got booted from my RE's practice so as not to mess up their success rate, nicely booted, but booted just the same. . .

And my new RE told me that my chances of getting pregnant were less than 5% with IVF and way, way, way less than that without it. . .

And my health insurer decided that I'd be blowing their money if I tried IVF again with my own eggs so they said #4 would be my last. . .

And I finally realized that IVF doesn't always work. That the fail-safe sometimes fails. That there would be no biological child for me and Mr. OGE. I wish someone had told me! Although, if they had told me, and perhaps they actually did tell me, I would have always pictured myself on the positive side of the statistics. You can't go into an ordeal like IVF expecting to fail.

The revelation I've come to recently is that even though I didn't get pregnant, IVF didn't fail me completely. It gave me options. It gave me some sense of control. It gave me the opportunity to learn what an amazing and supportive group of friends and family I have. It helped me feel like I did everything I could possibly do to have a biological child, and in doing so it helped me to let go of that dream and move on to another---the dream of becoming a parent through adoption.

For more information about infertility, visit RESOLVE.

For more about National Infertility Awareness week, visit here.

Still here and waiting some more

2011-01-27T23:15:00.002-05:00

I know it's been a while. I just thought I would share that we're still waiting to get P's amended birth certificate. We were told it would take 16 weeks from finalization which seemed an inordinate amount of time at that moment. How naive we were. We aren't at 16 weeks quite yet, but DH went to the state office to check on the status of the birth certificate. He figured it might be ready and if not he'd have a better idea of when it would be. He was told not to bother checking back until at least another two months have passed. And that it probably wouldn't be ready then because they were short-staffed and swamped. So sorry. Next in line.

Ugh. I love bureaucracy.

Is that my kid? Do the math.

2010-11-21T21:53:00.008-05:00

DH found a photo on the ground in the yard at the end of our driveway. It was a photo from a professional portrait studio of a baby wearing a My First Christmas outfit. DH brought it inside and left it on the counter. I asked him who it was. He said he didn't know, but he didn't want to throw it out because he thought there was a chance it could be Phenix. His thinking was that maybe it fell out of an envelope the social worker had given us with another photo of P from right before he came to live with us. She'd found that photo in his file while preparing for finalization and gave it to us along with some other info.

The photo DH found stayed on the counter for almost a week. We couldn't tell if it was Phenix or not and we didn't want to risk throwing it out. More than likely, it's just a photo that fell out of someone's early Christmas card and blew from the mail truck to our front yard. But when you adopt a child older than a newborn, early photos from before the adoption are treasures. Throwing one out would be like tossing your wedding album in the trash. You just don't do it.

Over the past couple of days I've started feeling guilty because I can't tell whether it's Phenix in the photo. It sounds silly, but I've caught myself asking what kind of mother I am that I can't recognize my own kid. Then I remind myself that I've always been horrible in those baby photo contests when you have to match the baby photo to the celebrity. I can't find the similarities between the infant face and adult one. I just can't do it, so this isn't really any different, right? Then I go back to examining the found photo and looking at Phenix and deciding and changing my mind a million times that it definitely is/isn't him. And I ask myself what kind of mother doesn't recognize her own child.

Today I realized that on the back of the photo someone had written the words "6 months." I'd seen the words before, but for reasons I can't explain I didn't really attend to them. I finally did the math and figured out that Phenix was only 3 1/2 months old for his first Christmas. So unless someone labeled the photo incorrectly or had him take a first Christmas photo in March when he actually was 6 months old, Phenix is not the baby in the photo. Other information had pointed in that direction: the baby in the photo was chubbier than P likely was (he had bad acid reflux and was about to be labeled failure to thrive at that age) and the mouth and ears weren't quite right. But the eyes and forehead were similar and I'd never seen him before he was 12 months old so how could I be sure? The "6 months" math seems pretty conclusive.

So the photo isn't sitting on our counter any longer. It's in a drawer in our desk in the office. I still can't bring myself to throw it out. Why? Because. . .well. . .I just can't. You know. Just in case.

Holiday Cards

2010-11-19T21:33:00.009-05:00

I read about this offer (50 free Holiday Cards from Shutterfly) on Wendy's blog, Our Story. Like a lot of people, I don't usually like to post stuff like this on my blog, but I loved the cards that Wendy showcased and I've had good experiences when I've used Shutterfly in the past when making mouse pads for P's Aunties and photo magnets for DH to put up in his locker at work. I figured it was worth a look. I'm glad I did look because when I went to Shutterfly I found the perfect holiday card for us.

This has been a big year for us. A lot has happened, including our finalization of P's adoption, and I'd like to share the news. However, there's no way I'm going to find the time in the next few weeks to get a holiday letter written. When I saw this card, it looked like it was made for us. I'm going to list different events from throughout the year. The #1 moment will be "becoming a forever family." I'm going to put our adoption day photo in the middle and a photo of P on either side. I'm so excited to see the final product. Last year, it took me forever to find a card I liked. On top of that, I spent about 3 days forcing P into various holiday outfits so I could take his photo and had to sort through probably 1,000 photos as a result before I decided on one photo that I liked enough to use. Since this card is about Top Ten Moments of 2010, I feel comfortable using some great photos from the summer and fall and don't feel like I have to use a Christmas one. I may actually get my cards out early this year!

Final

2010-10-25T22:14:00.036-04:00

We finalized! Friday, October 22 was Phenix's adoption day. It was an amazing, joy-filled day with lots of friends and family helping us celebrate. He's been ours in hearts since we first met him, but now he's ours forever. Nobody can take him away. I didn't realize that I was holding my breath, until after the court ceremony, when I was getting congratulations hugs from Phenix's brother's parents. Suddenly, I could breathe again and realized that I hadn't really been breathing for a while. What a difference a signature on a piece of paper makes!

I'm now able to write his real name, Phenix Jake, and share some pics of him. In all honesty, I'll probably freak out about privacy and take these down at some point, but here they are for now:

ETA: I did end up having my privacy freak out and took the photos down. I have to decide how I'm going to deal with the battle between being open and honest and being private on here. Maybe I'll write more about that in a future post.

We have a date!

2010-10-09T21:49:00.001-04:00

In fewer than two weeks, we'll be finalizing our adoption of L! I'm beyond excited. Time can't move fast enough!

2010-10-03T17:16:00.008-04:00

A year ago, I was a new mom: trying to figure out how to change a diaper without my baby arching away from me and screaming his lungs out, exactly how much food a one year old was supposed to eat, how to keep my little guy from rocking nonstop in his highchair during meal times, how to get him to fall asleep and then to sleep through the night. My sister told me at the time that she and my BIL liked to look at a video they took of their oldest daughter's first diaper change at home because it made them feel like they'd come so far. She laughed about how it took two of them a good five minutes to finish the task when soon after she could change a diaper by herself one-handed in 2.7 seconds.

I remember wondering if I would ever feel like that as a parent. Competent, natural, like I had it under control. Because those first few months I wasn't sure it would happen. I felt like an imposter. Maybe it was because he was one and not calling me Mama. Maybe it was because I was his fourth mom. Maybe it was because he wasn't legally ours.* I loved him with everything I had in me, and in my heart he was my son, but I wasn't sure I would feel like I was his mom. Did anyone else feel that same distinction? When we went out in public and someone told me how cute he was, out loud I would say "thanks," but in my head would follow, "we're adopting him so we don't deserve any credit for it." Same when someone would say how well-behaved he was, or how smart he was, or how happy he was.

I'm happy to say that caveat (we're adopting him) has stopped popping into my head every time our guy gets compliments. Not that we deserve or don't deserve credit, but just that it doesn't matter. My response, external and internal, stops at, "Thanks." I don't know when or how it happened, except maybe time, daily living, building attachment, but there is no doubt that I'm my boy's mother. I know he has another mother who would have given anything to have kept him and two more who mothered him when he was alone and most needed it, but I'm his now-mother, his everyday-mother, his forever-mother. I'm his mother. I no longer feel the need to qualify my motherhood.

I've been looking back a lot as the one year anniversary of L joining our family came and went. Maybe it's the looking back that gives perspective. Perhaps it's got something to do with the one year mark. Isn't that why one year old birthdays are such a huge deal to parents? Because the first year is HARD and to have fumbled through it without major harm to baby or parents is surely something to celebrate. And, although I didn't start with a newborn, I feel pretty darn celebratory about making it through this year and coming out the other side feeling like a regular, normal parent.

*We're still waiting for a finalization date for those who were wondering. We've been told we should hear this week sometime about a few date possibilities.

One Year Ago Today

2010-08-13T14:35:00.006-04:00

One year ago today, we got THE call. Of course at the time we didn't know it was THE call. It was another call in a series of raised hopes and false starts. In fact, that's what I titled that blog entry: Another One. We'd just passed on the opportunity to move forward with placement of a four year old boy due to lots of legal ugliness between DCF and the boy's foster mother. We were feeling a little down, secure in our choice, knowing it was the best one for us and for the little boy, but wondering if we'd ever get a call about a placement that felt right.

I was at school trying to get set up for the school year to start in a few weeks. DH called me and left a message that our family resource worker had called about a one-year old boy. It was a legal risk placement and we weren't sure how much risk was involved. There was some talk about a grandmother who wanted him which turned out to be a complete misunderstanding due to his foster mom at the time being called Granny.

We placed a call to the child's worker to get more information. And waited. And started fantasizing about a little one in our home. And wondered how much of our hearts we were willing to risk.

It turns out we were willing to risk everything. I'm so thankful we did, because down the hall there's a little boy napping who will wake up and call for Mama and I'm the one he's calling for. He's the light of my heart, my beautiful boy, my wonderful child, and we first heard he existed in the world, one year ago today.

Still

2010-07-25T21:56:00.005-04:00

I know it's been too long since I've posted. I guess my reluctance to write a new post has much to do with that I feel we're at a standstill. There's not much new to share. I'm still totally in love with my son. He's still the most amazing little boy I've ever met. And. . .we're still waiting for a finalization date. So far the timeline has moved from finalizing in June, to finalizing in July, to possibly finalizing in August, to likely finalizing in September.

What's the hold up you ask? Sadly, the hold up is the choice of L's adoption worker (yes, the one we love/loved?). She's been holding off on submitting L's paperwork until the family of his older brother, P, gets a court date. Which DH and I were fine with because P has been with them for going on three years and they went through a lot more ups and downs than we did. That is we were fine with it until just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong with P's case. Paperwork was lost. Lawyers were reassigned. Some steps took many, many times longer than they should have. Their paperwork was submitted in March and they still don't have a date. Despite that the process has taken months longer for P's family than it should have, L's adoption worker is convinced it will only be a matter of weeks after the process is started for L until we hear about a court date. However, after much pleading and a tiny bit of harassment on our part, she has finally decided to begin the process for L.

So now we wait. Some more. Again. Still.

To the rude mother at our recent adoptive families playgroup

2010-04-25T23:54:00.004-04:00

Just for future reference, it's rude to make any kind of huffing/snorting sound when people are going around introducing themselves and their children. Obviously, my son's name is new to you and perhaps it's not your favorite. Hence, the "L_____ (repeating his name). Hmmph" response when I introduced him. Your response should have been, ". . . . . . . . .". Those dots symbolize silence. "Hi" would have been acceptable, too. "Hmmph"---not acceptable.

By the way, I held back my opinion in the interest of common courtesy, but your daughter's name, the name you changed her birthname name to, is a common stripper name. Next time, you hmmph at my son's name, I'm going to share that info with you.

TPR, Take 2

2010-04-06T21:19:00.004-04:00

L's birthparents parental rights were terminated on Friday. The parents were found to be unavailable rather than unfit. Death does tend to make one pretty much unavailable. Our social worker said that it's usually easier for kids in the long run if their birthparents are not found unfit. We're going to talk more about that at our next appointment.

So L is now officially legally free for adoption. Next step is getting our adoption paper work from L's worker, having it notarized, and submitting it to the court for a finalization date. We're still hoping for June.

TPR

2010-03-24T21:23:00.004-04:00

Don't get too excited. It hasn't happened yet. However, we now have a date and a new lawyer who is appalled that it's taken so long to get a TPR decree for a case in which both parents are deceased and there are no family members interested. April 2 is the court date. Hopefully, she and our awesome social worker will walk out of court with decrees in hand.

Speaking of our awesome social worker, she visited yesterday. She's such a great resource. I had some questions about family medical history. We have minimal information and I hate to picture L at the doctor's office saying, "I don't know" in response to all the family medical history questions. I thought maybe since both L's biological mother, R, and father, J, were in state care at various points, there might be some additional information in their files. Unfortunately, no such luck. However, R has a sister who lives out of state and has completely separated herself from the family. She was the first person contacted about taking E when he came into care. She had no interest in rebuilding any connections with R and was very clear that she didn't want the boys. Our social worker approached her again at various points throughout the years (when E's goal was changed to adoption, when L was taken into care, when R died, when L's goal was changed to adoption) and her answer has never changed. Our social worker is going to try to get some medical history information from her. L's aunt has washed her hands of the family and may not want to talk about medical history, but at least it's a possibility.

I'll admit that my first thought when I heard about the aunt was, "What if she wants the boys now?" Our awesome social worker addressed my concerns before I spoke them and reassured me and DH that even if L's aunt expresses an interest, it's too late because she had numerous opportunities to take them and had very valid reasons for not doing so. Awesome social worker said L has bonded with us, his third placement, and the court has accepted the adoption plan. In fact, she said,"This is a done deal." That's what I needed to hear. However, I'm glad to know L has a more typical biological relative out there and I hope that maybe someday she'll be willing to meet him if he's interested.

Awesome social worker and I also talked about lifebooks and discussing adoption with L (and how talking about adoption with a child adopted from foster care differs from talking about it with children adopted in other ways). I'll share that discussion in my next post.

Adopted vs. Biological

2010-03-16T23:14:00.004-04:00

Why does the U.S. Government, via the Census, need to know whether my son is my adopted son or my biological son? I know, I know. They use it to determine funding for different programs. Perhaps they'll use it to decide whether to extend the Adoption Tax Credit.

Even though I know why they ask, it still bugs me somehow.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about that

2010-03-07T11:50:00.006-05:00

I was talking with a good friend at work who has been having some weird period issues. She had recently been to the GYN and was filling me in on what the doctor said. Then she said, "Oh, yeah. Unrelated to my current issues, but it turns out my bladder is falling out."

I had no idea this kind of thing happened. She didn't either until her doctor told her it was happening to her. Apparently, childbirth with vaginal delivery is the biggest risk factor. My friend, who birthed two children 18 months apart, has since heard from other women, including a friend whose mother actually reached down and felt her bladder coming out of her vajajay while she was in the middle of taking a shower!

The only thing I could think was, "S&%#, that's one huge advantage to never getting pregnant. Score one point for infertility!"*

*At least until menopause. The reduced estrogen of menopause can cause pelvic floor muscles to weaken and a cystocele to occur. Another reason to keep up those Kegels.

Super Secret Special Ops

2010-02-28T10:59:00.003-05:00

Frustrated with lots of bureaucratic runaround for the last 4 months, a couple of family members initiated a clandestine operation: Operation Death Certificate. It was successful, and really much easier than anticipated (and all completely legal). J's death certificate showed up in L's worker's mailbox and is now in the judge's hands. Now that the judge has proof that L's birthparents are both deceased, we're hoping for TPR news this week.

Dry and Not in the Dark

2010-02-27T15:46:00.002-05:00

The basement didn't flood! Woohoo! The sump pump hole stayed full of water but it didn't overflow. My dad brought a generator by in the morning and he and DH got the pump going just in case it rained more, which it did. The power came on around supper time.

DH bought about 10 flashlights so I won't have to use a honking bulldozer flashlight if the power goes out in the future.

Why didn't we buy a better pump?

2010-02-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm lying here in the dark. There's a raging wind outside. It sounds like a freight train rolling by our house nonstop.

The power went out about an hour ago. The only flashlight I could find was L's bulldozer one that honks when you push the wrong button.

The sump pump hole is full of water but the pump's not working because we didn't splurge on the pump with the battery back-up. I put everything in the finished basement up as high as I could but the new chairs and the new toy storage can't be put up.

The dog keeps barking every two minutes because the lack of light and the wind are freaking him out. Luckily L is sleeping through it all, but I'll be shocked if that continues.

Oh, and I'm alone because DH had to go into work to help other people because that's what cops do.

Please send "no flooding" vibes.

Oops!

2010-02-23T21:10:00.005-05:00

I just started a new private blog. I'm the only subscriber. It's basically an online journal about what our little guy is doing. I don't want to forget any of these amazing moments. Apparently I need a little more practice managing two blogs because the post that published here last night was meant for the other one. That's why it's gone today. Oops!

2010-02-19T23:43:00.004-05:00

R, L's biological mother, has been on my mind a lot lately. Sometimes I look at L and I feel such sadness for R, for her abusive childhood, for the choices she made as an adult, for how her life ended. R was not a bad person. She was just not capable of parenting for many reasons, especially given her relationship situation. I don't want to get into details, but trust me when I state that she was simply not capable.

I keep thinking about her in the hospital after giving birth to L. I have his hospital bassinet card, thanks to his awesome adoption worker. It has BF/F written on it. I'm interpreting that as meaning R was breastfeeding L and supplementing with formula. It touches me for some reason that she wanted to breastfeed him. She probably got the chance to try while she was in the hospital after her delivery. Did she think she would get to keep trying at home with L? Did she realize that she wouldn't get to leave the hospital with him? She must have had some idea because she was circumspect about her due date whenever L's brother's ongoing worker asked during monthly visits. R was getting prenatal care so she certainly knew when L was due. Did she buy a bassinet? Did she buy a going home outfit for him? Did she make plans, buy supplies, dream about having him home?

I'm sure she hoped the Department would give her a chance to parent L, even though her older son P, was already in care. However, L left the hospital with P's worker. Her signature is on his discharge papers. The home he went to was the foster home his brother had spent his first year in. I think about how L must have felt, being taken from the only mother he knew by a stranger and being handed to another stranger to be cared for. How confused he must have been. And I picture R leaving the hospital without her baby. I can only imagine how empty her arms must have felt.

I know the strangers were kind to him. I know the decision to remove L from R's care was the right one; he would not have been safe with R and J. I know that without these events happening L would not be our son.

But it's still all so very sad.

Paperwork, Photos, and Pack Rats

2010-02-16T00:20:00.005-05:00

L's social worker, M, visited last week. It's been a while and she was amazed by how much L has grown. Now that he's coming up on 18 months, he looks so much more like a little boy than a baby. Not to mention that he has started to walk! He still has that just-got-off-the-horse-look when walking, but steps are steps.

We love L's social worker. She's very on top of things and has a gift for explaining a situation in a way that lets you know exactly where you stand. The court is still waiting for L's biological father's death certificate from the Medical Examiner. They were told last week, by a reliable source, that it would be sent within the next two weeks. Once the court receives the death certificate, it can issue a decree legally freeing the boys- L and his brother. When that's done, M will begin L's adoption paperwork. We have our next meeting scheduled for the end of March. At that point, she hopes to have the paperwork for us to sign and then she can submit it to the court for finalization dates. The goal remains for us to finalize in June. L's brother's family hopes to finalize in March since he has already been with them for some time.

I asked M about the possibility of getting photos of L from his first foster home where he lived until he was six months old. The earliest photo I have of him is from when he was 11 months old. His second foster mothers weren't big picture takers. M was able to get us L's footprint and id bracelet from his hospital stay after his birth. I know these are priceless treasures and we are so grateful to have them. However, I would really like to have some early photos for his lifebook and for those rotten autobiography projects in elementary school. M is going to get me the address of the now-retired FM#1 so I can contact her. FM#1 took care of L's brother for the first year of his life, until he was placed with his adoptive family, and I know she took lots of photos then. L's brother's mom shared them with me last weekend when they visited. I'm hoping FM#1 also took lots of pictures of L. She has downsized and moved since taking care of L and my fear is that any photos might have been tossed. I pray she's a pack rat.

Foster Care Review Meeting

2010-01-27T22:41:00.007-05:00

This is a boring update, but I hope it explains yet another part of the fost/adopt process.

Every six months, children in state custody are required to have a foster care review meeting. The purpose of the review is to discuss progress toward the child's goals. In the case of L, his goal is permanence which means adoption by us. It's usually suggested that preadoptive parents attend the meetings, but in our case L's social worker told us not to. We had been told at our disclosure meeting for L that it would not be in anyone's interest for us to attend the foster care review meetings. L's brother's preadoptive parents had never attended. L's biological father was always there and the social workers were convinced that he would become confrontational with us. They thought things would get ugly. After J, L's biodad, died, the worker felt like there was no need to change things. We emailed L's worker a narrative of how he was adjusting to our family.

So the meeting came and went. Last week we got a written report about the meeting. Nothing in there was surprising They continue to recommend permanence through adoption by us. It was nice to see us referred to as L's forever family. The report also said the plan is for us to finalize in June.

I would love for us to finalize in June, but it's highly unlikely. For reasons I don't understand the medical examiner has been very slow with issuing a death certificate for J, L's biological father. Until the death certificate is issued, the court can't terminate parental rights. Until the court terminates parental rights, the adoption paperwork can't be submitted. We're hoping it happens soon, but we're not holding our breath. We just keep telling ourselves that it will happen eventually.

Fortunately, Unfortunately, Fortunately*

2010-01-21T22:37:00.005-05:00

Fortunately, I heard the word, "Mama" from L for the first time this morning. Or at least the first time I was sure that it was actually Mama and not more, more, or something along those lines.

Unfortunately, he said it over and over as he was holding on to my leg, trying to keep me from leaving when I dropped him off at daycare this morning.

Fortunately, he loves our babysitter's children and they were able to distract him by getting out his breakfast bowl and getting him to bang his spoon around in it. When I left, he was all smiles.

Of course, he hasn't said Mama since.

*I realized after I posted this that my "fortunately, unfortunately" reference is really obscure. It's the children's book Fortunately, one of my many favorites. I had it in my head when I was thinking about the day.

I Hate Fac.ebook

2010-01-15T01:18:00.007-05:00

Posted on Fa.cebook by my clueless (formerly infertile??) cousin:

Next time, remind me not to have babies 15 months apart.

Consider it done.

Not So Bad

2010-01-04T23:50:00.006-05:00

Thanks for the support!

Today wasn't awful after all. I survived my first day back, in spite of my substitute not having done half of what I left and was kind of (very much) counting on her to do. But it could have been much worse and I'll catch up.

DH called his mother and she came to help out with L so DH didn't have to expose him too much to the awful stomach germ. We're still holding out hope that L's yucky diapers are due to teething and this stomach thing will bypass him. MIL cooked a huge pot of chicken soup and she's a fantastic cook so that was a plus. Lunch for the rest of the week!

L remains happy despite his sour stomach and he's drinking and eating like himself. He had fun with his grandmother and still remembered me when I got home, so not so bad.

Tomorrow is the big drop off at the babysitters. He'll go about 2-3 days per week. The other days DH will have him. Then in about 6 months, I'll be off for another 8 weeks or so and can spend all my time with L and DH.

I'm luckier than many and am trying to count my blessings.

Suckiness

2010-01-04T06:10:00.004-05:00

Just spent two days sick, really, really, sick with the stomach bug

L has diarrhea

DH is getting sick now too,

But he's watching L today

Because

my maternity leave ends today and I have to go back to work.

This sucks!

Update to My heart skips a beat

2009-12-21T21:23:00.003-05:00

CW got back to me and reassured me that L's biological grandmother's request will not delay the process of our adoption. BGM asked for a visit, not custody. CW spoke with her and denied her request. Without going into detail, BGM is not safe or appropriate for the children to visit with. CW said there is no way she will allow visitation. She did tell BGM that she could write a letter which CW would pass on when she visits next. BGM was not happy about that, but seemed to accept it.

Although I have some sympathy for a grandmother wanting to see her late son's children during the holidays, it's best for the boys if they don't have contact with her. Visiting would benefit her, not them. Sadly, this is one of those situations when a person is reaping what they sowed.

Lucky

2009-12-19T23:42:00.004-05:00

I attended a family party this evening and many of my extended family members met L for the first time. My cousin was the first one to see us. Our conversation went like this:

Cousin: Congratulations! How is motherhood?

Me: It's amazing. I love it.

Cousin: Is it what you expected it to be?

Me: It's more than I expected. DH and I are so happy. L is just the coolest little guy ever.

Cousin: Well, you're lucky you didn't get him when he was at the baby-baby stage.

Me: (stunned silence)

Cousin: At least you didn't have to deal with the not sleeping and stuff.

Me: (still stunned) Oh, I was lucky?

Cousin: So how does he sleep?

Me: (answering her questions but asking myself did she just basically say I was lucky that I didn't have a newborn, didn't get pregnant, didn't get L when he was younger. WTF did she just say?)

I do know that I'm lucky, not for the reasons my cousin thinks. I can't imagine being a mother to any child but L. I LOVE him. He is an amazing, joy-filled little boy. I am lucky that he found his way into our home. But seriously, why would you tell someone who struggled with infertility that she's lucky she never had to deal with a newborn? That's just clueless. I wish I could have raised L from birth. I wish I had been the one comforting him when he was new to the world. I wish I'd been there for his first smile, his first giggle, his first taste of blueberries (his favorite), his first birthday. I would have gladly given up some sleep if it meant I could have had L in my life sooner. But that wasn't how it worked out and I accept that. We're so happy now. But seriously, how clueless can you be?*

Oh, and she had her first baby via IVF. Uh, huh.**

* I know her ignorant comment has more to do with her own struggles with motherhood than my situation, but still. . .

**But her second was an oops, so maybe that wiped out her sensitivity to those with infertility?

My heart skips a beat

2009-12-17T21:35:00.005-05:00

We got an email from L's worker today. His biological grandmother (BGM) is requesting visitation. This is the same woman who lost her sons, including L's biological dad, to foster care for years due to neglect. I don't think she's ever met L or his brother. Well, maybe she met his brother during the month he lived with his biological parents immediately after he was born. I can't imagine L visiting with her. He had such a hard time when he had his last visit with his biological father, and he used to visit with him every month. L's caseworker plans to deny the request, but I find the whole situation unsettling. I know it's probably the holiday season that started BGM thinking this way. I know there's no judge in his right mind who would give her custody of the boys, so I'm not too worried about that (but I am just a little bit worried, because it's my nature to expect the roof to fall in). I don't think very many judges would give her visitation, given her history. I'm going to call the CW tomorrow to check in on whether BGM can appeal CW's decision or if it's final.

What this new event has done is started me thinking about when L is older and wants to know more about his biological family. He doesn't have a pretty story about how his birthparents couldn't take care of him but loved him so much that they found a family who could love him and take care of him forever. I'm not threatened by L wanting to have contact with his biological family; I'm scared to death by it. These are not safe people (with very few exceptions). These are people who are caught in a generations-long cycle of abuse, neglect, substance abuse, and criminality. L and his brother have, hopefully, broken that cycle, but what happens when they want to get to know the only biological relatives they have and those relatives are still in the thick of that cycle. How do you protect your child in a situation like that, while still supporting his desire to feel a biological connection?

I know I'm probably partly transferring my worry about BG's recent request onto a future situation, maybe to avoid the present a bit. The thing is that right now I know I'm completely unprepared for that future situation. I found an adoptive parent support group in my area. I'm planning to attend their next meeting. I need help.

A Brother From Another Mother

2009-11-27T22:35:00.006-05:00

Well, actually brothers from the same biological mother, but raised by different adoptive mothers. That's my son and his older brother, P. They're full biological siblings being raised in separate homes. One of the reasons we were chosen as the adoptive family for L is because we live near his brother's family and were willing to maintain contact with them. L's adoption worker, who is also his brother's adoption worker, thought we would be a good match for P's parents and that they would feel comfortable having continuing contact with us.

When L was born, his brother had already been in care for two years and had been living in his pre-adoptive placement for a year. L was placed in a foster home because his brother's family didn't feel comfortable taking L as a straight foster placement. At that point, L's goal was reunification. When his goal was changed to adoption, he was offered to P's family again. They'd been on the road to TPR for two years at that point and were looking at another two years before they could finalize with P. I posted here about how that situation changed drastically, but no one had a crystal ball. We were told it would be 2-3 years before we could finalize. P's family just couldn't deal emotionally with starting at the beginning with L and I don't blame them at all. There were many ups and downs that happened before we entered the picture. There were also the financial considerations of having two kids in daycare and adding another three years of daycare costs. So L's adoption worker started looking for an adoptive home for L and somehow, through some miracle I don't understand, she found us.

We had our second visit with P and his family today. P is old enough to remember L from supervised visits that the two would have together with their biological dad. I don't think there's the concept of "brother." Really, how could there be? They never lived together and saw each other once a month at most. L seems to be familiar with P, but I don't think there's a true memory there. More a sense of, "I think I may know you from somewhere so I'm not totally freaked out by you." They're two years apart, and so are in very different places developmentally. They are both only children who don't particularly like to share their toys so it can make for some testy interactions. There was pushing, toy wrestling, and hitting with toy parts today. Maybe in some sense they do realize they're siblings after all! Actually, siblings or not I think it's all completely normal, given their ages and their age difference.

On the other hand, DH and I, and I think P's parents, enjoy the visits, probably much more than the boys do. It's fascinating to compare notes. How does he sleep? What does he eat? What's biology? What's environment? Also, they are the only people who know what it's like to be adopting a child with this exact family background. And it is a background with a lot of trauma and abuse. Since P is older, they'll be breaking the ground of talking about adoption and birth family before we do so I hope we'll be able to learn from them.

I'm not sure what the ultimate outcome of this relationship will be. Will the boys ever truly feel like brothers? They'll know they're brothers, but how does that work when you don't live together or share any living parents? Will they feel comfortable talking to each other about their background, their feelings about adoption? Will they be close friends? Will they feel burdened by the relationship--thinking they're supposed to feel one way but in reality feeling quite differently? There's no way of answering any of those questions now. I just know it's important to keep the door open to any possibility of a relationship the boys might have so that's what we're doing.

We're going to get together with them again next week. We've been invited by them to attend a family party because I guess, in some sense, we're family now.

From the Mouths of Babes

2009-11-17T21:38:00.007-05:00

L and I were at my sister's the other day. My 5 year old niece, E, was playing with L. He was smiling at her and clapping. She was eating it up. There have been a few jealousy issues in the past few weeks with E. I've been her childless aunt for her entire life. She and her sister always got a lot of attention from me and DH, so this new focus on L is a big change for her. Things have definitely improved. Her new coping mechanism is whenever my sister is paying attention to L, she comes to me and sits on my lap and cuddles or chats. She says since L is getting her mommy's attention, he has to share his mommy's attention with her. He's too little to even notice so it's working fine so far. ;-)

Luckily, L is fascinated by E and, since she's an typically egocentric five year old, she's started to enjoy him much more because of that. Today she remarked how cute he is. Then she asked why the other people didn't want him. She was genuinely curious and seemed a little confused because she's starting to like having him around. Then she asked me if it's because he's trouble. . .if that's why he was left on the street.

Talk about misconceptions! That's the thing about little ones. You think they understand something and then they say something that let's you know their understanding is so far off the mark. First, my sister and I tried to figure out the trouble comment. Apparently, her former babysitter used to call one of the other little girls, "Trouble McGillicutty" because she was always picking up things off the floor and getting into things. She's about 6 months older than L. We explained that her babysitter didn't mean the little girl was bad or really trouble. She was doing what babies do. The babysitter was joking. L is acting the way babies do, too. He's not trouble. He's normal. E was like that when she was a baby, too.

Then we moved on to her real question: Why did the other people not want him? We explained that his parents actually wanted him very much, but they couldn't take care of him. They didn't know how to keep him safe, maybe because their mommies and daddies didn't keep them safe when they were little. It wasn't L's fault that they didn't know how, but children need to be safe so a social worker (someone who's job it is to help children and families) took L from his family and put him in a safe place called a foster home while she tried to teach his parents the things they needed to do to keep L safe. Sadly, for lots of grown up reasons, L's parents weren't able to do what they needed to and still couldn't make safe choices. Because every child needs a safe family, the social worker started looking for a family that L could grow up in where he would be safe and loved forever. The family she picked was ours. So actually he was wanted by lots of people.

She seemed content with our answer at the moment, but I'm sure it will come up again. At the very least it was good practice for when L starts asking these questions.

What's in a name?

2009-11-10T22:23:00.003-05:00

So I'm going to fess up and admit that when I first heard our son's name, I thought it was terrible. Like white trash-misspelled-roll my eyes-terrible. It is a name I would have NEVER chosen to give a child of mine. It's a name very few people choose to give to their child---number 401 in popularity when I last checked. I won't share his name here yet, but I will say that he is named after a video game character. . .from a fighting game that his biological father liked to play. The name is misspelled (missing a letter) and the first and middle name are in reverse order of the video character. DH and I were sure we were going to change it. Then we were told we couldn't until TPR was done, at which point it would be too late because TPR would take a couple of years and he would identify with the name by then. Then we were told we could change it but had to be super-careful to always use his original name for all legal situations and to make sure he answered to his original name to some extent for visits with his biological father. Then we were told we could completely change it when his biological father died.

Now, here's the kicker: we're not going to change it. We are changing his middle name to DH's grandfather's name, but we're keeping his first name. We're even keeping the spelling.* We actually think it's pretty cool. Yup, we've grown to like it. It fits him. His name has connotations of rebirth, rising from the ashes.** It's unique and it seems like part of him now. So it stays.

When we were considering adopting from foster care, the name issue was one of those things that bothered me. I thought of all the time my pregnant friends have spent pouring over baby name books, looking up name meanings and trying different combinations. It hurt that I might not have the chance to do that. One more ritual among many that I wouldn't get to participate in---one last slap in the face by infertility. But you know what? It's OK. It really is. Because no matter what his name is, he's my son. And at this point that's all that matters to me. I know that's hokey, but it's true. I also think that it's different when you're considering a name in the abstract: Which do I prefer? Henry or Evan? Sofia or Ava? But when the name is attached to a person, your opinion of it can change drastically. There are several perfectly nice names that I can't stand because they remind me of particular students (really more the parents of those students). Our son has a name that I wasn't crazy about when I first heard it, but now because it's attached to him, I've come to love it.***

____________________________________________

*My only regret is that people who first see his name will think DH and I can't spell or that were trying for a unique spelling on purpose. As a teacher, cute misspelled names are one of my pet peeves. We could change the spelling, but then people will think he was named after a city in which he was conceived and that's worse. Plus, I think the current spelling is more masculine.

**If you're trying to figure out what it is, that's a big clue. Think mythical. It doesn't begin with L. That's my pseudonym (pseudoletter?) for him.

***No offense to those who have changed their child's name. I completely understand. We've grown to love DS's name. I've seen some on the listings that I think would be hard for me to learn to love and that would be hard for a child to live with when he gets older. I'm hoping DS is happy with his name as he gets older.

I may not have given birth to him. . .

2009-10-26T15:02:00.005-04:00

We had our first meeting with Early Intervention. Our guy has a service plan in place from his previous placement so it was mostly a matter of paperwork. The coordinator asked lots of questions about his prenatal and birth history. I had received all the information at our disclosure meeting so was able to answer her questions pretty well.

At one point, I noticed that she has recorded his birth date incorrectly. She had written a day earlier than the actual date. When I pointed it out to her, she actually argued with me a bit. "Oh, no. I saw it written on his records as __/__/__." She even started shifting through papers to show it to me. Ummm, hello. I may not have given birth to him, but I do know when he was born. I am acutely aware that I missed his first birthday and I am very sure of when that date was because I was thinking about him all day (we hadn't started the transition yet).

It turns out she found her paper and it listed the date I had told her. How about that.

Weird Mix of Emotions

2009-10-14T22:08:00.004-04:00

L's social worker visited today. We talked a lot about L's biological father, J, and how his death has changed the process. She said that rather than looking at 2-3 years to finalization, L should be legally free in several months and that we should be able to finalize by this summer. There is a possibility that one of L's maternal relatives could come forward now that J is out of the picture, but it's highly unlikely. Most relatives on both sides are not suitable because they either have substantiated child abuse complaints filed against them or they have criminal records. There are a couple who would be appropriate, but the Department heavily recruited biological relatives when L was placed in care a year ago and there was absolutely no interest. At this point, the state is obligated to consider biological relatives, but isn't obligated to place L with them. You can imagine the relief we felt at hearing that.

DH and I have decided to send flowers to the funeral home when J's body is released to them. We hope it will help L when he gets older to know that we/he did this for his biological father. We talked a lot with the social worker today about how to process this with L when he's older. She suggested making sure that we talk about it all along. If a friend's grandmother dies, for example, she said we could mention how J and R (L's biological mother) are in heaven, too. The big idea is to make sure it's not secret or shameful since L has nothing to be ashamed of in regard to the circumstances of his birth or of his biological parents' deaths. I'm also not sharing details of his parents' deaths so we can share that information with L when he's ready and it doesn't come from a cousin who overheard the grownups talking.

This whole situation has created a strange mix of emotions in me. J was not someone who made good choices in life and there were safety concerns for all involved in this case due to his past behavior. There was no chance of an open adoption in this situation because of those safety concerns. I certainly didn't wish J dead, but a part of me is glad that I won't have to worry about L being tracked down by J as he gets older and that we won't have to spend the next 2-3 years in court. I wish J had just realized that he couldn't care for L and terminated his rights voluntarily. I also realize that J was an abused child at one time and was failed by the system. He was like L, but he kept being moved from foster home to foster home or returned to abusive parents instead of being adopted as a young child. In many ways, the system messed him up, or allowed his family to mess him up, and then stepped in to take away what mattered most to him because he was too messed up. Again, I'm just so grateful that cycle is broken for L.

Major Turn of Events

2009-10-13T22:26:00.002-04:00

We found out today that our baby boy's biological father died this past weekend. His biological mother is already deceased. Both were products of the system (abuse, neglect, foster care) and had many life-long issues because of that. Their early deaths are sad, but not shocking. Our son is now legally an orphan. I don't know what that means in regard to our attempt to adopt L. Our social worker is coming later this week for a visit and I'm sure we'll have more answers then. Tonight, I'm just going to reflect on the life of a young man who fathered a beautiful boy but, because of being terribly wounded as a child, was unable to be a father to him. I am so glad our L won't have to continue the cycle.

I'm just stunned right now.

Grateful

2009-10-11T20:29:00.009-04:00

Our son has been living with us full-time for almost 2 weeks now. I don't have the words to express how lucky I feel to have this little boy in my life. I've had people tell me that we deserve this because we tried for a while, had multiple failed IVFs, etc (nothing compared to what some have been through). But I know that I have never done anything in my life that would make me deserving of this amazing gift I've been given. I am so grateful that, although completely unworthy, I get to wake up every morning and spend the day with my little guy. He is pure sunshine. When he first wakes up, I like to listen to him for a few minutes via the baby monitor. He usually spends some time talking to himself and turning on his crib soother music. I love listening to his babbling, always hoping for the word Mama to come out at some point of course (still waiting right now although I'm pretty sure I'm hearing "Hi" every morning). When I go into his room, he flashes me a huge smile and every time he does I'm overwhelmed with gratitude.

Come Monday. . .

2009-09-26T21:10:00.009-04:00

I know that I've been horrible about posting. I've been even worse about commenting and I apologize for that. I have been checking my google reader regularly. I hope to catch up on comments soon once we get into a regular routine.

My big news is that Monday is the day our little guy, L., will come to stay with us---forever we hope*. We've had him over our house every day for the past four days and he seems to be adjusting well. We pick him up at his foster home in the morning, bring him to our house (he usually naps during the 45 minute drive), play with him for a while, feed him lunch, put him in his crib to nap around mid-afternoon, play with him some more, take him for a walk with the dogs, and then bring him back to his foster home around supper time. The bringing him back is the hardest part, but we've been going with a slower transition, on the advice of the social worker, in the hopes that it will help him adjust better in the end.

So far, so good. He's happy to see us when we pick him up and comes with us easily. He eats well for us. He sleeps well for us. He's able to be comforted by us if he gets upset. Those are all positive signs in terms of attachment. Today was a little more challenging because he has a cold and I could tell he just felt lousy. Still, he was happy for most of the day, until he threw up all over the giant teddy bear DH bought for him. Although I wish he were here to stay already, I'm kind of glad his first night isn't tonight because I'm guessing it won't be a great one for him. Next time he's sick he'll be all ours, but I'd rather not have his first night with us be miserable for him. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he feels better on Monday.

Our biggest challenge, and in the scheme of things it's relatively small, has been diapering. He HATES to have his diaper or clothes changed. I mean, resists laying down, screams until it's over, wriggles away as much as possible. It doesn't appear to be a sensory issue (in that clothes are uncomfortable for him) because he's fine once he's actually dressed. He's little but he's strong so it really is more challenging than it sounds. Of course, it doesn't help that I'm afraid to hurt him by holding on too tight or that I'm out of practice when it comes to diapering so I'm rather slow. We decided not to get a changing table which I'm glad for now because there's no way I would feel safe with him on it. I change him on a pad on the floor. The only thing that makes me feel better about this is that he acts the same way with his foster mothers, so I know it's not just me. I'm going to try introducing a special toy to distract him during diaper time. Hopefully that combined with me getting faster will help. I'm also thinking about changing him on the bed so it's not so easy to crawl away. I'm open to any suggestions.

I'll update again after our first night.

*A note about the legal situation: L is not legally free for adoption. His is a legal risk placement. His goal is adoption because the state has determined that his biological father is unable to care for him, even with support. The state is moving to terminate his biological father's parental rights, however that could take a year or even more. The risk is that a judge may decide against the state and reunify L with his biological father. This is highly unlikely for several reasons which I can't go into for privacy's sake. However, there is always the possibility, hence the risk. The other risk factor is that a family member of L's biological father or biological mother could come forward and request custody. But as the social worker said, "It could happen, but it won't." Again, I can't go into the reasons for her opinion, but DH and I have decided to trust in it. We had originally hoped to have a legally free placement and were open to older children for that reason. But when this placement came along it just felt right to us, in spite of being the total opposite of what we had originally hoped for. Go figure.

We Met Him!

2009-09-20T21:55:00.004-04:00

We met Baby Boy yesterday. It wasn't like a meeting you'd see in a Lif.etime movie, but it was still amazing. He's cutting teeth (it looks like the whole top rack is coming in at once), he didn't have his nap, and he's developed stranger anxiety, so he was not in the best mood. However, he tends toward happy so he'd look at us and start laughing and playing. Then he'd suddenly remember he didn't know us and the laugh would turn into a cry midstream. It was sad but cute. It's actually good that he has stranger anxiety because it means that he's attached to his foster mom. If he didn't have an attachment it would be worrying. It means that he's capable of forming healthy attachments and, with time, he'll be able to form one with us.

We went back today to feed him lunch and it was much better. We'd left a little plastic photo book with pictures of us and the dogs for him to look at. When we walked in, his foster mom said, "Baby Boy, Mommy and Daddy are here." I got goosebumps. He came crawling out, right over to me and touched my foot (it's at his level after all). He seemed to remember us, and not as the scary people from yesterday, but in a good way. We ended up playing with him in the family room by ourselves for a while. The foster mom started in there with us, but quietly left after a few minutes. BB had no problem at all. At one point, he laid back in DH's lap and just looked up at him. DH started tickling BB's tummy while he was leaning back and BB just giggled and giggled. I don't know if I've ever been so happy. I can't imagine my heart could be any more full.

We had to leave to head to our third baby shower in two weeks (we've been blessed by the generosity and excitement of our family and friends during this time) and made plans to come back tomorrow after work. The foster mom thinks we could take him for an outing on Tuesday. I can't wait!

Through all of this, I keep telling myself that this is really happening. IF has trained me to expect the worst so there's a part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm working hard to keep that part of me at bay. This is too good to ruin with pessimism.

3 weeks

2009-09-02T22:01:00.002-04:00

I want to write about our meeting today, but I'm too tired. I'll share more this weekend. The most important outcome of the meeting is a timeline: In three weeks, we'll meet Baby Boy and begin transitioning him to our home! He'll be with us full-time by the end of the month. I have to pinch myself. Is this really happening?

Meeting Tomorrow

2009-09-01T20:33:00.002-04:00

Just a quick update: DH and I have a meeting with the social worker tomorrow afternoon. We're going to sketch out a timeline then. She said the transition will probably be quite short (only a week or so) once it gets started so we should make sure to wait until we're ready before we begin. We're thinking a few weeks at the most. :D

We're doing it!

2009-08-31T20:46:00.004-04:00

Today DH called the social worker and told her we've decided to go forward with the placement of Baby Boy. We're going to have a son!!!!! We got a lot of information at disclosure and I was able to call the developmental specialists who work with Baby Boy. They work with many young children with autism and they have "absolutely no concerns about autism" with him. He's very social and interactive, has great eye contact, no tactile defensiveness. They said he does headbang from time to time, but they feel it's out of boredom. They even feel that the delays he has, which are mild, will catch up with support. They talked about what a lovey he is. Baby Boy's foster mom had only positive things to say as well.

It is legal risk, but it sounds like there's an excellent case being built for TPR. It feels right so we're going for it.

When I talk with the social worker tomorrow, I'll get more information about the transition and the timeline.

My head is spinning right now--in a wonderful way.

Ambiguity Is My Middle Name

2009-08-22T23:30:00.006-04:00

Our disclosure meeting is scheduled for the end of this week. Our families have been going a little nutty, talking about cribs and toys and becoming aunties. I guess everyone gets extra excited about a baby.

We haven't told them that the child's case worker called us at the end of last week and told us that Early Intervention has been looking at Baby Boy as possibly having autism. This is the same worker who went on about how on target Baby Boy is and how she would take him home if she could. She said she just found out when she received a recent report. However, she says he's improving. He was identified as having low muscle tone (which has gone to the normal range with PT), self-stimulating behavior (didn't specify what-flapping, head banging, rocking, tensing, staring at lights?-but did say it has almost completely gone away), and delayed language skills (at a six month level so three to four months behind; however also improving with EI speech support). Either she had no clue what those possibly added up to or she doesn't know him as well as she seemed to.

One of my best friends has a child with autism who was diagnosed at 15 months. I remember her telling me when he was 10 months old that she had a feeling something wasn't right. I called her right away. She said the above are all signs of autism, but that most kids have some autistic tendencies at some point. Both her children had low muscle tone and both her children self-stimmed (one by tensing, staring at shiny objects; the other by staring at ceiling fans) but only one has autism. She said if the self-stimming is truly almost completely gone, that's a good thing. Kids with autism always have some kind of stim. If one goes away, another replaces it. Her son has gone through about 15 different ones. She also wasn't that phased by the language delay because supposedly his language is improving quickly with EI speech therapy. She said it took her son a year of much more intensive hospital-based speech therapy to just be able to get the concept of yes and no. She has offered to read the EI reports for me when we get them and suggest some specific questions to ask the therapists and the foster mother.

The child's worker said she will give us the name of a specialist at a prominent children's hospital in our area so we can consult with him as well. And of course, she reiterated that there are no guarantees. She said if we had a biological child, he could be facing the same profile.

The last part was more than a little annoying. Adoption is different than having a biological child. If your biological child has autism, you have no choice--you deal with it. Choosing to adopt a child that is being looked at as having autism is not the same. We would be taking a risk with enormous consequences. We would possibly be choosing to go down a road that is extraordinarily difficult. I love my friend's son, but I've seen the struggles he has been through just to be able to communicate on a basic level. I've seen how autism has affected my friend's marriage. I've seen how her view of the world has changed. I've seen her exhausted, scratched and bruised, frustrated because she can't get through to her boy. She told me she loves her son, but there is no way she would be doing this if she had a choice.

The recent news has made us pull back a bit more from the situation. Along with our families, DH and I were starting to fantasize about having an infant around. We had pretty much decided we were going to take the placement and just deal with the legal risk piece. We were thinking about bedding and peeking at the baby clothes when we walked by them. We're feeling more cautious now. Again, we're not looking for a perfect child, but fetal alcohol syndrome and autism are two disabilities to which very few people would say bring it on. This may still be our child, but we're not as sure as before.

Knowledge is Power. . .Maybe

2009-08-15T00:01:00.006-04:00

DH spoke with the child's worker today. Baby Boy is actually nine months old. He's been in care for eight months. His foster mother is an older lady who specializes in fostering infants, but is not interested in adoption. The father is a pretty bad guy. There are some safety concerns and the social worker told us they will not share any of our information with the father. There are no interested family members. The Department wants to make sure any family who takes Baby Boy is willing to maintain contact with the older brother. The social worker said she told her husband she wanted to adopt Baby Boy herself, but he wouldn't go for it. ;) We're going to schedule a disclosure meeting sometime in the next two weeks.

I've always been freaked out by the prospect of a legal risk placement, but for some reason I am strangely calm about this situation. I don't know if I'm in denial or if it's just "right."

I'm probably in denial.

I guess time will tell.

Another One

2009-08-13T22:09:00.004-04:00

We got another call today. This one was regarding a one-year -old boy. The child is placed through a different office than ours so our worker didn't know much about the situation. DH called and left a message with the child's worker. We're hoping to hear more tomorrow. All we know right now is that it is a legal risk placement. That means that the birthparents' parental rights have not yet been terminated. The state is moving to do so. There is also a three-year-old brother in care but his current pre-adoptive parents are not interested in adopting the younger brother. The birth mother is out of the picture completely, as in deceased. The birth father is fighting TPR (Termination of Parental Rights). We're not sure how long this has been going on, how well the birth father is working his case plan, why the child was removed, etc. I'll post when we know more.

The Right Thing

2009-08-11T16:06:00.005-04:00

I spoke with little guy's pediatrician and she eased my mind about some of my FASD concerns. She thinks most of his issues are due to him being a preemie. There may be some neurological issues but she doesn't think it's FASD. That sounds simple enough, but my conversation with her added another layer to this issue.

It turns out that she knows the little guy very well because her kids go to daycare with him. His foster mother works at the daycare and has taken care of the pediatrician's kids. She talked up Foster Mom quite a bit to me: how hard she's been working with him, how much she cares for him, how he's improved so much through her effort. I don't think she knew about the legal issues. It seemed like she was just trying to tell me that he'd been in a good home and was well taken care of. The more she talked, the more I felt like little guy should stay with his foster mom. He has made a lot of progress and disrupting his life now would be devastating.

It would be one thing if Foster Mom still wouldn't commit to him, but she has hired a lawyer and has requested to adopt him, although in the wrong court. The Department doesn't trust her, but I also get a sense that they're really pissed at her for pushing them so hard, too. DH and I were beginning to question the ethics of helping to remove this little boy from the only home he remembers and where he's not abused or neglected in any way. Rather, he's well loved and having all his needs met. If we did adopt him, could we look him in the eye when he's older and explain why his foster mother couldn't keep him? Would we doing the best thing for this child or would we be letting our own hunger for a child convince us to do less than the best for him?

Those were the questions we were asking ourselves last night. This morning we got a call from the child's worker informing us that the District Attorney's Office is going to take over the case from the Department. Foster mother had asked for an injunction to prevent the Department from removing the child. The DA doesn't feel that the Department has a strong case right now. They want the foster mother to be homestudied. It's going to take a while-several months at least, the worker told us. He said he knows the new information will have an impact on our decision. He apologized.

We've decided to bow out of this situation. It seems like the right thing to do.

More information, more confusion

2009-08-08T22:19:00.005-04:00

I know some people have been waiting for an update and I apologize for not posting one sooner. We had our disclosure meeting two days ago and it hasn't make our decision isn't any easier. I have a 3 inch stack of medical records and evaluations to read over and I have to call the pediatrician, the department's attorney, the child's attorney, and the daycare provider. We left the meeting with two weeks to make our decision so we now have about 12 days left. Tomorrow morning, DH and I are heading up north for a few days. I'm going to read and take notes, in between boating, playing with my nieces, and eating good food. I'll start making phone calls on Monday.

The highlights of the meeting were:

1) Foster mom is now fighting hard to keep the child. She has hired an attorney. She has asked for an injunction. It's not clear what standing a judge will give her in the case. The Department's point of view is that she has had 3 years to adopt this child and they do not trust her ability to commit to him at this point. They think she's still torn between wanting to keep him and knowing she's not able to do so financially or emotionally. The child's attorney supports the Department's decision. We plan to talk to the Department's attorney to find out more about the legal standing of all the parties. We hope to talk to the child's attorney to confirm her support of the Department.

2) The little guy has some cognitive delays, which so far appear mild, and he is pretty hyperactive. He also has difficulty focusing for more than short periods of time. It may be ADHD. It may be the after-effects of being prenatally exposed to cocaine and, because of mom's addiction, being born almost 8 weeks premature. It may be that, in addition to smoking crack, mom drank while pregnant and he has FASD.

That last possibility is the most worrying to me. The birth history in the evaluations say mom possibly drank while pregnant. This isn't confirmed in hospital records and it's not clear where this notion came from, but it does make sense. A woman who uses crack while pregnant is not likely to say no to alcohol. Little Guy doesn't have the facial features of FASD (with the exception of a thinner top lip), but I know that the facial features are only present if mom drank heavily during the first trimester. The most heartbreaking part of FASD, the brain damage, happens throughout pregnancy and can be present without the facial features. He has many characteristics of the neurological damage of FASD. At the same time, he has many characteristics of ADHD. FASD is often first misdiagnosed as ADHD. I know kids with FASD can have good lives, but the reality is that dealing with FASD gets harder as kids get older and most are not able to live independently. We would tackle the job of raising a child with FASD if we adopted a child and later found out he had FASD, but it's not something we would choose to take on. It's the reason we previously turned down the placement of the two year old girl. ADHD, learning delays, developmental delays, motor issues, allergies-these I can do.

I don't know why, but I didn't think this would be so hard. With the legal issue ongoing and the possibility of FASD, I really don't know what our decision will be. I hope that talking to Little Guy's pediatrician and the attorneys will give me a few more answers. What I would give for a crystal ball right now!

Oh, and Little Guy looks like a total cutie in his photos.

Good Fortune

2009-07-25T01:13:00.005-04:00

DH and I had Chinese for dinner tonight. These were our fortunes:

His. . .Organize your life around your dreams-and watch them come true.

Mine. . .The path is getting easier from here on out. Luck is helping.

Not bad, huh? If all this works out, I'm going to frame these suckers. Seriously.

If it doesn't, I might burn them. OK, probably not, but it will cross my mind.

Update: The Next Step

2009-07-20T19:23:00.006-04:00

We talked with the little boy's case worker today and have scheduled a disclosure meeting as the next step in the process. It will take place in three weeks. At the disclosure meeting, we'll get to look at all the records and get releases giving us permission to contact the pediatrician and other caretakers. They're not expecting the foster parent to be there due to the contentiousness of the situation. After the disclosure meeting we'll have a couple of days to think about it and make our decision.

The worker did go over the timeline of this child's situation and the numerous opportunities the little guy's foster mom has been given to adopt him. She's turned down every chance but doesn't want him adopted by anyone else either. Apparently, the subsidy, or lack thereof, is the sticking point for her. If she adopts him, she would lose the monthly foster care payment from the Department unless he's determined to have special needs, which at this point several evaluations state he doesn't have. If he had special needs and would get a subsidy after adoption, then she would have finalized already. She says she can't afford to keep him without the extra money. On the one hand I feel bad for her because it must be hard to think about giving up the child you've been raising for four years due to money. On the other hand, most people don't get paid to parent their own kids, and when you adopt that child becomes your own kid. Plus, I have a couple of friends who have children with significant special needs and it seems wrong to want your child to fall into that category. Finally, it's really not that much money per month and I think I'd sacrifice just about anything to keep him if I were in her situation. It's sad all around.

The legal questions aren't entirely answered to our satisfaction at this point either, but we're going to keep looking into it before the disclosure meeting.

Ultimately, everything is still up in the air for now.

Hold On Tight, Folks!

2009-07-19T10:48:00.008-04:00

***I know this post is incredibly long, but writing everything down helps me to process all of it***

We got another call, Friday night at 4:52 PM. I've heard so much about THE call, but that's not how it works when you adopt from foster care. At least that's not how it's worked for us. It's been multiple calls with lots of follow up calls. This new one concerns a little boy. He sounds like a wonderful kid. He's developmentally on target in all areas, doing well in preschool, gets along with his peers, a little active but no behavior issues to speak of, able to form attachments. When we signed up to adopt from foster care, DH and I knew that most of the kids in care have experienced some kind of trauma and as a result often have behavioral, emotional, and physical issues. It was drilled into us during our adoption classes: "Our kids are great kids, but they have lots of challenges." We've put a lot of thought into clarifying what we're prepared to handle and what we feel is beyond us. We're not looking for a perfect child. We know there's no such thing, no matter how a child enters your family.

The profile of this particular child doesn't fit what we were expecting to hear. Of course, he's not perfect but has no behavioral issues, no emotional issues, no physical issues. . .and he's legally free for adoption. There should be people lined up to adopt this child. Then our worker mentioned that he's been in foster care with the same foster family since he was an infant and has been legally free for over two years.

Me: Wait a second. He's been legally free for over two years and the family he's been with for four years hasn't adopted him. What's up with that?

Our Worker: Oh, you noticed that (chuckle, chuckle). Well, I was going to get to that. His foster mother has been given time to consider adopting him, but she wants more evaluations before deciding. He's already been evaluated multiple times (mentioned the names of the hospitals) and found to have no problems every time. She still won't commit to adopting him so we're moving on with finding a permanent family for him.

Me: Is she OK with that?

Our Worker: Hmmm. Well, uh, not exactly. She doesn't want to adopt him, but she doesn't want him removed. She appealed the decision and lost, so now she has no choice. She says she's going to get a lawyer and sue the Department to become his guardian (though not to adopt him) but we don't know yet if that will happen.

Me: And if she does. . .?

Our Worker: Well, technically, it would be a legally free placement, but it's more like legal risk. We've given her plenty of time. too much time, so I don't see how she can win, but there is a chance. Are you interested? Think about it over the weekend and let me know.

I have multiple concerns/thoughts/questions running through my mind:

#1 Clearly this child would be better off staying with his current family if they would have him. He's been with them for four years! Why isn't foster mom adopting him? Are there more issues than his file shows and she's just being an advocate for him? Or is this about getting him classified as having special needs so he can receive a subsidy after adoption (I hate to even think that one)? Why won't the Department just give her what she wants so this little guy can stay with her? Is there more to her than they're telling us?

#2 What's the likelihood that this foster mother could win custody at some point in the future? We're willing to accept legal risk placements (when the birthparents rights haven't yet been terminated, but the state is moving to legally do so). Very few TPR (termination of parental rights) petitions are denied in my state once the state gets to that point. This current legal situation is one that I know nothing about. What kind of rights does the foster parent have? Not to mention that TPR is easier to support because birthparents have been given multiple chances to get it together enough to parent their kids. They're not able to provide a healthy environment for their children. This woman has apparently been doing a great job with this child so far. And then, there's the fact that I don't want to disrupt this child's life only to have a judge return him to his foster parent in a year. I don't want to disrupt my life only to lose the child back to his current placement (which is where it sounds like he should be if she'll adopt him).

#3 Our worker described this child as having an attachment to his foster mother. I know that's always a good thing because it means he is able to form healthy attachments. However, I've also read that a poorly done transition can do a job on a child, even one who's had solid attachments to that point. Ideally, the transition should take time and involve the foster parent and adoptive parent sharing tasks as the adoptive parent slowly takes over. It doesn't sound like that would be possible in this situation. It sounds like the bond would be abruptly broken. I can imagine it might not be at all pretty. DH and I think we can deal with the immediate consequences (I hate you, You're not my real mom, regression, etc). It would be like what many foster parents deal with when a child is first removed from his or her birth home and placed with them. What I worry about are the long-term consequences for this child and his ability to form future attachments.

#4 Why us? Other than the fact that we're a couple of awesome people, why did they choose us for this situation? Are we just a prod to get the foster mother to ante up and decide to adopt this child? I can deal with that, but I'd like to know if that's the case. Is it because we're new to the process and might not know to be nervous about the legal issues?

#5 What will it be like to be instant mommy to an almost five year old boy? I'd need to study up on five year olds. What time do they go to bed? Do they bathe themselves? What kind of car seat do they need? I know, I know, I'm getting ahead of myself.

DH and I have decided to take the opportunity offered to us to speak with the child's worker tomorrow and ask some of those questions.

So more phone calls.

And another roller coaster ride. Here we go!

Just Call Me Chicken Little

2009-07-15T13:39:00.006-04:00

I had my pelvic MRI at 3:45 in the morning yesterday. I got the call today from my Nurse Practitioner. It turns out that what looked like a complex cyst on the ultrasound is actually a simple cyst on the MRI. It's about 1.8 cm. My cycles have been totally screwy (24 days, 21 days, 3o days, 14 days) and I have pretty much constant pain (like someone poking a blister) in my lower right pelvic area. However, according to the MRI it's not a mucinous cystadenoma and it's not something worse than that. I suppose a small simple cyst can cause those symptoms; the other cysts I had after various IUIs and IVFs were pretty asymptomatic. The NP suggested I try low dose birth control pills to try to clear up the cyst and see if that helps all the other stuff. So that's my next step. BCPs for a couple of months and then another visit to the NP and probably another ultrasound at that time.

I want to write more about my reasons (family history and the aftermath of multiple failed IVFs) for being so nervous about the possibility of ovarian cancer, but I'll have to save that for next time. DH and I are leaving to go camping for a few days and I'm leaving my laptop at home. That's a first for me and I think it's about time. I'm looking forward to a few stress-free days!

Worried

2009-07-03T10:10:00.004-04:00

I've always been a worrier. As of yesterday I have new reason to worry. I've been having some lower abdominal discomfort. It feels like I have a canker sore in my ovary that someone pokes every once in while. It's not exactly a sharp pain, but it's not an ache either. There's also been a weird fullness or pressure in the area. I've been having some GI distress for the last couple of months. And for the last two months my periods have gotten weird, varying lengths and lighter, but with some cramps for weeks ahead of time. My PCP was pushing the Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) angle, but I wasn't completely sold on it. I asked for an ultrasound because I worried I might have another mucinous cystadenoma. My left ovary was removed about 2 1/2 years ago due to one. If was after that removal that my FSH jumped and my fertility went downhill quickly.

Yesterday afternoon, I had my date with the dildocam. The GYN nurse practitioner filling in for mine called last evening to let me know that I have a complex cyst on my right ovary. She said they think it's likely an endometrioma or a hemorrhagic cyst. Of course, those are the exact words used by my RE when she first discovered the cyst on my left ovary, which turned out to be neither of those possibilities. I went to surgery thinking I was going to get rid of some endo and woke up without an ovary. This time I feel like my most likely, and best case, scenario is a mucinous cystadenoma. Pessimist that I am (beating the infertility odds on the negative side every time tends to squeeze the optimism out of you), I've been googling the worst case scenario, too. Apparently, there's about a 6% chance that a complex cyst is cancerous.

The next step is to talk to my regular nurse practitioner when she gets back on Tuesday. I was told she'll probably want to schedule an MRI. Personally, I feel like telling her to screw the MRI; just schedule the f&%#ing surgery. They're going to need to operate anyway for a complex cyst and I want it out, O-U-T, OUT. I'm not thrilled at the thought of surgical menopause, but the idea that it could be even worse than a mucinous cystadenoma, that it could the the big C, is way more frightening than hot flashes.

How messed up is it that right next to dying, my biggest worry about all of this is that it will keep us from adopting?

Not Ours

2009-07-01T13:40:00.005-04:00

The little boy I wrote about in my last post was placed with a kinship placement. His sibling's adoptive parents decided to take him. DH and I know it's the best thing for the little guy to be with his sibling, but we're a little sad that he wasn't meant to be our child. DH is more upset than I am. Before our homestudy was complete, he thought I was going to give my heart away to every child presented to us. It turns out that I'm more cautious, while he starts imagining trips to Disneyland and camping and buying toy trains immediately after the first phone call. I guard my heart more closely. I guess the cycle of hope and disappointment from our failed IVF cycles has made me more self-protective. I gave a bit of my heart away to every one of our embryos and I never got those pieces back. I'm not giving away any more until I know for sure that we're bringing home a child.

I appreciate all the encouraging words when I wrote about this latest potential placement. I feel a little bit like "the boy who cried wolf" when I share situations that don't work out. I considered waiting until we got a confirmed placement before sharing on here, but I think I would go crazy if I had to keep it all to myself. If you're going to keep reading, you might be on this roller coaster with me for a while. I really do appreciate the company.

Another Possibility

2009-06-29T18:32:00.004-04:00

We decided to submit our homestudy today for another child. It's an almost four year old child who is legally free for adoption. He came up as part of a matching process through a local organization that helps promote adoption from foster care. It turns out that he's being placed from the same office at which we did our MAPP training. His worker was one of our MAPP trainers. I don't want to go into lots of detail but this little guy has lots of food allergies and intolerances that would need to be accommodated. DH and I have several friends who have children with food allergies and special diets. We see our friends do it and feel that we could handle it.

The hitch is that there's a possibility of a kinship placement so we may be out of the running already. I'll keep you posted.

A Happy Surprise

2009-06-29T00:59:00.011-04:00

I wrote before about how my district has two completely different maternity leave policies for those who adopt a child vs. those who birth one. Women who give birth can use up to 40 paid sick days toward a maternity leave. Women who adopt can't use any paid time.

I brought the issue to the attention of my union because it was pointed out to me by the administration that the reason I was denied was due to contract language.* Most involved in the union were completely unaware of the distinction that our contract made between adoption and birth. The policy has been there for a while, but few have tested it and all believed our administration had the discretion to offer more leave to teachers if they chose. There was a lot of outrage and disbelief and many apologies.

Well, this was a negotiation year and I just found out that our new contract will include a maternity leave provision for adoption that is exactly the same as that for childbirth. We're not getting much else due to the state of the economy, but this was one language change that our union pushed for and that our school committee completely supported.

What does this mean for me? It means that if DH and I get a placement during the school year, I'll be able to take 8 weeks of paid leave, using 40 of my 120-odd sick days. It means that we won't lose two months of income and DH won't have to work like a dog to make up for that. It means that I won't feel like a second-class citizen compared to my coworkers just because I'm adopting. It means less resentment, less jealousy. It means I will get to spend time with our new child, easing the transition, without worrying about money. It feels like a validation of our way to build a family.

Of course, if we get a placement this summer then I won't have the opportunity to use any of this paid time since I'm already off, but that's a trade I'd be more than willing to make.

*I know there are lots of different opinions about the advantages/disadvantages of unions, but I've always been a union supporter. It's a result of my working-class background. However, I am not someone who has ever worked only to a contract. I take pride in my profession and have always gone well above and beyond what was required, as do all the teachers I know. That's why it felt even more like a slap in the face when the contract language was used as a reason to deny me paid leave.

How Easy It Is

2009-06-24T20:25:00.006-04:00

Isn't it always the way that when you think you're doing fine, something happens to knock you back a little? Well, it feels that way to me anyway. I've been doing really well. The hellish, baby mega-shower/goodbye party turned out to be not so hellish and not so mega. Two of the moms-to-be didn't come, there was lots of good food and good drink, and the focus ended up being more on my friend who is leaving than on the baby part. Even a pregnancy announcement earlier in the week from yet another coworker (I kid you not-apparently I work in Fertility, USA) couldn't break me.

Until tonight, when I saw an update on Facebook from another former coworker, now a SAHM who occasionally substitutes at our school, about her baby bump. I suspected she was pregnant, but nobody actually told me. In fact, several people denied it so I figured my instincts were off. Maybe I wanted to be wrong. You see, this is #2 for her. It's also # 2 for another one of the pregnant coworkers, due in September. Besides being pregnant with a second child, the other thing the two of them have in common is that they both got married the same month I did. We planned our weddings together, talking over lunch about dresses and flowers and honeymoon locations. Our anniversaries are weeks apart. In fact, we all have four-year anniversaries coming up next month. . . and they're both, BOTH, on their way to having their second child while I'm still waiting for our first.

It's at times like these when I feel like there's something damaged inside me, something that I keep pretty well hidden. And then an unexpected pregnancy announcement from a particular person happens, hits the tender spot, all the pain comes up again, and I can't keep hiding it. I'm revealed to myself for the wreck that I am.

I'm just so tired of it all.

We Said No

2009-06-18T17:38:00.003-04:00

We decided to not pursue the possible match with the little girl from my last post. After speaking with her caseworker, it became apparent that she has multiple significant delays beyond what we feel we can handle. I have to believe that the right family will be found for this little one and that our child will come our way eventually. It makes me sad that this child's life will be forever affected by her mother's choices when pregnant with her. She deserves better, but we don't feel we're the ones who can give it to her.

We got a call

2009-06-17T17:56:00.002-04:00

but don't get too excited for us yet. DH talked with our social worker this afternoon. He was calling about a two year old girl. It's a legal risk situation, but we can deal with that. Remind me to write a post about what "legal risk" means when adopting from foster care. The part that's holding us back is that they suspect she has fetal alcohol syndrome. There's some testing going on now. We're trying to get more information. Given what I know about fetal alcohol syndrome, I don't know if we can take that on. I need to go do some research.

Mind Tricks

2009-05-18T11:25:00.003-04:00

I was at the copy machine the other day (I really don't spend an excessive amount of time copying, despite appearances to the contrary. It was my turn to copy homework for the week). I was looking around, zoning out because copying is boring, when I saw one of my former students working in his classroom. I noticed how much he's changed in only three years, and I started thinking about former students who are even older. I thought about times when I've run into them and didn't recognize some of them. Some look exactly the same but bigger, while others look entirely different than when I had them in first grade. Many are shaving and their voices have changed. Some are even driving, which is a trip because in my mind's eye they're still trying to figure out how to tie their own shoes.

For some reason, I started imagining my own (someday) son as a teenager, wondering what he would look like, about how it would feel to hug a nearly-grown man while remembering when he could fit in my lap. I wondered if the student I was seeing in his classroom at that moment looked like a combination of his mom and dad. I pictured his parents and decided he did look exactly like that. My mind turned to our child and I wondered again what our (someday) son would look like. I hoped that he would look like my handsome DH. I pictured DH's face in the photos I've seen of him as a teenager and then pictured that face on the nearly-grown man that would be my son.

Suddenly all such thinking screeched to a halt when one part of my mind caught up with the other. I realized that our son won't look like DH or some combination of DH and me. We're adopting so our son will look like some mix of his birthparents, not us. How could I have forgotten that? I could only laugh a little at myself. I think I actually said, "Duh!" out loud. It's not a word I use often but it seemed to fit the moment. It's amazing the tricks your mind can play on you. Maybe it was just the copy machine-one more reason to stay away from it . . .

Smug

2009-05-02T21:27:00.005-04:00

This is hilarious, especially in light of my experiences with my pregnant coworker. I hope this doesn't offend any of my currently pregnant, previously pregnant, or soon-to-be pregnant readers, but I laughed until I peed when I saw this. That doesn't happen often and I just had to share. Of course, I don't think this applies to all pregnant women-certainly not to any who read this blog.

Long Shot

2009-04-30T20:06:00.004-04:00

We submitted our homestudy for the first time yesterday. The child is an 18-month old boy who is legally free and has "mild" physical and emotional needs (whatever that means since mild for one person might be nothing for another). I found the child on an adoption resource website. I was surprised his profile was even on there because usually this adoption site is for children for whom it's harder to find families, like older children and children with significant special needs. Almost all of the children are legal risk placements. I'm wondering if there was some kind of mistake. The supervisor said she forwarded our homestudy to the child's worker and that a number of homestudies have been submitted for consideration. I bet! I'm sure that's an enormous understatement.

That all adds up to this: we have pretty much no chance to be matched with him. Why? This isn't the office that did our homestudy, and I'm sure they have lots of their own families who've been waiting. Surely, the child will be matched with a family that the worker knows through MAPP classes or from doing their homestudy. They're buried in homestudies at the moment which means there's a stay-at-home mom in there somewhere. Seriously, I'd prefer to be a stay-at-home mom, at least until our child is 3 or so, so I'd understand if they preferred to place this child with one.

Bottom line: I'm not getting my hopes up, but it's nice to be able to have a shot, even if it's a only a long shot.

Useless Calculations

2009-04-25T20:37:00.001-04:00

Why did I bother figuring out all of this? Maybe it's seeing women who started the IVF process with me contemplate when to start working on Baby #2. Maybe it's because there have been times recently on a couple of message boards I frequent when a woman has posted about her child's first birthday or taking his first steps, and I've thought, "Wait. I remember when she announced her BFP. How can her child be that old already?" Maybe it's a friend telling me that I have no clue how much having a child is going to change my life. I thought, "Have you totally forgotten how long I've been waiting for that change? Where have you been for the last four years? I'm looking forward to it, even if it is overwhelming!" Maybe it's simply because I've never been pregnant/never will be pregnant and this is my only chance to use a due date calculator. Here are some of my almost-but-not-quite due dates.

If our first cycle trying had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on May 10, 2006 and be the mother of an almost 3 year old.

If our first IUI had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on July 6, 2007 and be the mother of an almost 2 year old.

If our first injectable IUI cycle had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on January 19, 2008 and be the mother of a 15 month old.

If IVF#1 had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on May 19, 2008 and be the mother of a 10 1/2 month old.

If IVF/IUI #2 had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on July 4, 2008 and be the mother of a 9 month old

If IVF/IUI#3 had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on September 23, 2008 and be the mother of a 6 1/2 month old.

If IVF#4 had ended with a BFP and a healthy baby, I would have been due on January 30, 2009 and be the mother of a 2 1/2 month old.

In some ways, IVF seems like ages ago and in some ways it feels like yesterday. The baby updates from successful cycling buddies remind me that it wasn't just yesterday.

I am so ready to stop standing in place while everyone else around me keeps moving forward. ***

***I know there are lots of ways to move forward, and that through adoption we are moving forward with our dream of becoming parents, blah, blah, blah. Just let me indulge in some self-pity tonight. I realized today that it was exactly a year ago that I had my final egg retrieval and we got one measly egg. Even after 3 failed IVFs, I was naive/delusional enough to think that that poor sad little lonely egg might do the trick. Even when I began to fear that IVF#4 didn't work, it never crossed my mind that one year later we would still be childless.

Belonging

2009-04-20T15:05:00.001-04:00

Several weeks ago I attended an adoption conference. It's held annually and is the largest one in New England. DH and I went last year when we were in the middle of our final IVF cycle. We were hedging our bets, I guess. While at the conference last year, I listened to a voicemail from one of my best friends and learned that she got a BFP on her second month of trying. When we had attended her wedding seven months prior, we had been preparing to start our second IVF. This year, she was at home playing with her five month old (he was born early but healthy) while I, still childless, attended workshops about legal risk adoption and post-adoption adjustment, hoping that they'd be relevant for me sooner rather than later.

Last year at the conference, I felt like a faker. In all honesty, we went but we were hoping not to be those people, hoping to avoid the world of adoption, hoping this last cycle would be the one that worked so we could become parents the way we'd always dreamed. This year was different. This year, I felt like part of the family. This year, I looked around me and thought, "Almost all of these people have been where I've been." I live in a state with mandated coverage for infertility treatments, including IVF. Almost everyone who is infertile goes through treatments. Most people who move on to adoption in my state have been through the IVF wringer. They've gone through the hell of infertility and, instead of coming out the other side with a baby like so many, they've come out with empty arms and broken hearts. They've had to resolve themselves to not having a biological child, to never being pregnant, and then had to decide what to do next. They've had to face the failure. . . and then somehow keep moving forward. For those at the conference, the way to move forward is adoption. I am one of them now. For the first time in a long time, I stood within a group of people and felt like I belonged.

One workshop I attended was called When Couples Disagree. DH and I signed up for it because ~~we worry~~ he worries that we'll disagree when we're offered a placement: I'll say yes to any situation while he's more cautious about what we can handle. The session was facilitated by counselors who specialize in adoption and are also both adoptive parents. In the group, there were current adoptive parents who disagreed about how much background to disclose to their children, waiting couples like us who were concerned about disagreeing about a referral, couples who disagreed about which adoption route to pursue, and couples who disagreed about whether to pursue adoption or live childfree. It was quite a diverse mix.

The conversation got pretty intense at times. The session only lasted a little over an hour, but it ran the gamut from tears, to laughter, to anger. I've never been part of a group who were so honest about their emotions so quickly. Much of the conversation revolved around infertility and its aftermath. There was a lot of talk about the scars infertility left behind-the anger, the bitterness, the grief, the fear that nothing will work out, not even adoption. It was comforting to hear adoptive parents talk about how it will get better, how it's all worth it in the end because they can't imagine themselves with any child but the one they have. It is a gift to be with people who understand you without needing to explain yourself--who have walked your path, long before you even knew such a path existed, and who give you only hope for the future.

Approved!

2009-03-31T16:52:00.000-04:00

Our homestudy has been approved! Woohoo!!!!!!

A friend's pain

2009-02-20T23:03:00.003-05:00

My friend B of No Regrets just got a negative beta on her final IVF cycle. I've been there, and I know how much comfort the kind words of others gave to me during that time. Please go over and give her some love.

Thanks for nothing

2009-02-15T21:41:00.000-05:00

MEMORANDUM

TO: My Boss

FROM: Your infertile employee who has worked her ass off for you for the last 10 years

RE: Denial of paid leave

I just wanted to say thank you for your recent letter denying my request for paid adoption leave.

Thank you for pointing out that I will not be giving birth, which means I won't be "sick," which explains why you won't allow me to use any of my 110 sick days when I bring our child home, unlike every employee who has a child the "natural" way. I appreciate your archaic point of view that a woman who gives birth is disabled and needs to take 8 weeks of sick days to recover, as opposed to you granting her paid time to take care of and bond with her child. I personally know of several women who were out running errands within a week of leaving the hospital, but I guess they were still "disabled."

I will try to remember that I am not pregnant so I will have no morning sickness, no fear of fifth disease, no doctor to "write me out." I will also have no labor from which to recover. I will be transitioning a child into our home who has experienced trauma, but that is not the same as pregnancy or childbirth and certainly not worthy of the same amount of paid time off. . .or any paid time off. Thank you for reminding me that building your family through pregnancy and adoption are completely unrelated and that one is clearly less than the other.

Thank you for informing me that DH and I had better start figuring out how we're going to live on one income for a few months. I appreciate you adding in financial stress to all the other stress that adoption brings with it. Did you know that less than 1% of all employees will need adoption leave? It's not like it's going to break you. By the way, how much did it cost for those team-building sweatshirts that you gave everyone at the start of the year? I bet it's less than it would cost you for my substitute. If I get people to dig them out from the back of their closets and give them back, will you let me have a few sick days?

Thank you for making me feel even more isolated and resentful because of my lack of fertility. I will try to not to think about how much paid time several women with whom I work have taken off due to their pregnancies alone. And I'm not talking reasonable time off, I'm talking milking it for all it's worth and leaving others to pick up the slack. I will try not to point out that, in addition to using an extraordinary number of sick days during pregnancy, each of those women also took her full 40 sick day allotment after the baby was born. I will try to refrain from calculating how much all that time has cost the district in comparison to my simple request.

Thank your for making me feel like I'm an idiot by requesting that you to use the discretion that I know is at your disposal to grant me some sick days. I understand your desire to ignore that discretion and stick to the letter of the contract. In the same way, I am sure you will understand when I use my discretion to stick to the contract in the future. I'm not talking about in my classroom because I will never compromise there. But all the extra time I've spent making life easier for the administration suddenly seems like an exercise in masochism. What a fool I was to think that going above and beyond would count for something! I have accumulated 11o sick days because I often came to school when I felt unwell. When I had my ovary removed, I came back at the earliest possible time even though I felt like crap. I didn't take whole days for any of my IUIs. I didn't stay home after ER or ET. Thank you for teaching me a lesson about what you really value. Now I know.

Thanks for everything. Thanks for nothing.

Respectfully yours,

Update: Homestudy

2009-01-23T22:11:00.003-05:00

I got in touch with our social worker today. He made an appointment to get together with DH and me next week on Thursday to go over the draft of the homestudy. He said my part was easy. DH's part was "interesting" and took a little longer. I didn't pass that bit of information on to DH. When we meet next week, our social worker will ask any questions he still has and make any changes we request. Then we'll be done with the homestudy and ready to wait.

How Old Are You?

2009-01-08T21:38:00.008-05:00

I just wanted to quickly share something that happened today. I don't know if I've said it before, but I'm a first grade teacher. I was sitting next to one of my little guys this morning working with him on his writing when the following exchange occurred.

First Grader (looks up at me and, completely unrelated to the topic at hand, says): Do you have a daughter?

Me: A daughter? No. Why do you ask that?

First Grader: I don't know. Do you have kids?

Me: No, not yet.

First Grader: You don't have kids yet? You mean you're not married!

All the other little faces at the table turn toward me and a chorus of "Mrs. One Good Egg, you're not married?" starts.

Me: Well, yes, I'm married. That's why I'm called Mrs.. I talk about Mr. One Good Egg all the time, remember.

First Grader (in a tone that could be characterized as disbelief): But you don't have kids, yet? How old are you then?

This is immediately followed by several guesses from the peanut gallery, some flattering, most not so flattering.

Me: Hey, hey, hey. Alright now, enough of that. Let's just get back to our writing, OK?

So even in the minds of my first graders I'm an old, married, childless failure. Fantastic!

*I should mention that I really do talk about my husband and the rest of my family all the time. You'd think if I had a kid that I might have mentioned him or her before now. It just goes to show how egocentric six-year olds can be that this little guy obviously never noticed. In spite of, or maybe because of, their egocentricity six-year olds are the coolest kids ever. And in spite of, or maybe because of, exchanges like the one above I do love my job.

Better

2009-01-03T20:09:00.003-05:00

The past few days have been better. Thank you to everyone who talked me off the ledge. I appreciate the comforting words. I was glad to hear that my DH is not the first to have this kind of freak-out.

The very good news is that he followed through and saw the counselor on Friday. He felt good about the appointment. He came home and told me that he was surprised to hear that he's not extremely messed up-that his fears and anxieties are normal. Uh. . .yeah. . .that's what I said when he started all of this. I guess he just needed to hear it from someone else. As it stands right now, I'm going to call on Monday to make an appointment with the same counselor. After the counselor sees me one on one, he's going to see us both together. I was worried at first that this guy wouldn't have much understanding of infertility. Then I found out that DH got his name from a friend who, along with his wife, dealt with IF for years. They both highly recommended him.

DH and I have agreed that we'll keep plugging along with the homestudy while this is going on. He said he really does want to be a dad, but he really doesn't want to be the kind of dad his father was to him. He wants to know how to keep that from happening. I don't think there's a chance of that happening because he is nowhere close to the person his father is. However, I think DH needs to figure that out for himself. Hopefully this process will help him do that.

Not Ready

2008-12-29T23:40:00.006-05:00

I haven't written much lately because I'm in a really bad place emotionally right now, worse than I've been in a long, long time. Why? Well, Christmas pretty much destroyed me this year. It wasn't all the kids around or thinking about all the Christmases during which we've said maybe next year. What wrecked me is the conversation DH and I had on Christmas night. What wrecked me is that DH has decided that he's not sure he's ready to be a dad and he wants to slow things down.

Here are his reasons:

His family: DH has some major family issues. He has no contact with his biological father, his mother, stepfather, or his half-sister. Their treatment of him has been horrible for many years and on many levels, so his decision to have no contact is completely justified. However, though he would never admit it, I think DH feels like there's something wrong with him to have had people close to him treat him so badly. How does this affect his thinking about parenthood? I believe it makes DH feel that he's not good enough to be a parent, worthy enough to be a parent. He's also worried that he's going to screw up like his parents did.

Us: We've been arguing quite a bit lately. I think it's because of the stress of the holidays. He's feeling the lack of family. I'm feeling the lack of a child. DH has always been supportive, but his attitude is that we can't dwell on what we don't have. He doesn't get the whole IF grief thing. He thinks I'm too negative. He asked, "Do we want to have a child because we love each other or because everyone else has one?" Of course, I want to have a child because I love him and want to parent with him, but the fact that everyone else has a child is painful to me. And the holidays, with the daily onslaught of cute kid photo Christmas cards, shopping for other people's kids, and fun-filled kid-centered events, make it all the more painful. We've been picking at each other over little things. In less stressful times, we do argue from time to time, mostly about housework, but I think we're pretty typical. However, DH is concerned that we're going to become like his parents and that our child will grow up like he did with constant arguing. I think once the holidays pass, things will get back to normal, which isn't perfect but is good.

Me: Apparently, DH is worried that he's going to get squeezed out once we have a child. He thinks he won't have any say in how our child is raised and that he'll just be there to pay the bills. This one really pisses me off to be honest. At the same time that DH says he's worried about this, he's encouraging me to read books like The Connected Child and Parenting the Hurt Child and to "just tell him about it," rather than actually reading them himself. The thing is that I've always thought that DH will be very involved dad. I feel like he is a great complement to me. I'm a worrier. He's pretty easygoing. I've watched him interact with my nieces and he's such a natural. I don't know what to think about his view that I'm going to take over. I'm trying to tell myself that is has more to do with his own insecurities than with a negative image of me.

DH didn't say that we should stop the adoption process entirely. He said that he wants to talk to a counselor while the process is going on, before we get a placement. He definitely doesn't want to rush things (no efficient follow-up calls, no harassing our social worker to finish the homestudy, no searching through photolistings). He has followed through and does have an appointment with a counselor this week.

As you can imagine, what I heard during this conversation is that the adoption isn't going to happen. I heard that voice again, the one that's been quiet lately, the one that says "nothing ever works out for you, how could you think it was actually going to happen this time, you should have known better than to actually believe you'd have a happy ending." I know it's an overreaction, but nevertheless it's what I feel. Recently, I was starting to view the future with excitement. I was going to work on our kid room this week while I was on vacation. My friends, family, and coworkers have been enthusiastically asking questions about our timeline. I was actually feeling expectant. Imagine that, me--expectant. Now I don't know what to think, what to feel. All I know is that I'm hurting. . .a lot. And it sucks.

We Belong Together

2008-12-14T18:03:00.003-05:00

I got a surprise package in the mail a few days ago. It was from P, one of my closest friends. She and I were roommates when we both lived in California. Although we only lived together for a year, and that was 15 years ago, we just clicked at the time, partly due to supporting each other through various crises in our (but mostly her) life: a major break up, a major unrequited love, a TV falling on her head, a hit and run on my car, getting caught in a riot, an attempted mugging in her classroom before school started. We bonded tightly that year and have remained close even though we now live on opposite coasts. Inside the package was a children's book called We Belong Together by Todd Parr. P and I are both children's book addicts. We Belong Together is a book about adoption. My favorite parts are below:

We belong together because. . .you needed someone to help you grow healthy and strong and we had help to give. Now we can grow up together.

We belong together because. . .you needed someone to kiss your boo-boos and we had kisses to give. Now we can all hold hands.

We belong together because. . .you needed someone to say "I love you" and we had love to give. Now, we all have someone to kiss goodnight.

It made me cry. . . in a good way. I can't wait to read it to our child.

Moving On(ward)

2008-12-11T18:33:00.008-05:00

I'm taking a step away from my ranting posts about easily pregnant newlyweds to share that as of today DH and I have taken two more steps toward meeting our child. This afternoon DH had his individual interview with our social worker. All went well. DH was nervous about it. Well, he didn't say he was nervous about it. He said he didn't want to talk about it, which translates to--- he was nervous about it. I reassured him that he would do fine. Then I warned him not to screw it up. OK, I didn't really warn him not to screw it up. . .that wouldn't be very supportive. . .I didn't say it in those exact words anyway. . .I'm kidding. . .mostly. Actually, I gave him a kiss and told him to be himself. And I did ask him if he used the last of the toilet paper while he was home in the morning to please replace the roll before our SW came, just in case.

I called him from work to see how it went. He shared two highlights with me. One was that our SW said we have really good dogs (thank you to whoever suggested frozen peanut butter in the kongs). It turns out he's more of a dog person that I thought. He actually adopted a dog from the same shelter from which we adopted one of ours. The second highlight was that our SW said he admired DH for how he acted toward J, one of our fellow MAPP class attendees. J has a good heart, but he's one of those people who always have a story about themselves to share during a discussion. Every conversation path led back to him. It didn't matter what the topic was, J had something personal to say about it. There were several classes when we might have got out early if J hadn't started sharing. After a few meetings, some others in class started rolling their eyes when J started talking and they were not the most social to him during break time. No one was outright rude, but no one was clamoring to chat with J. DH would actually respond to J's stories with a quick comment and would happily chat with him during break. As he told me, "J's not a bad guy. He just talks too much." He was extremely patient and our SW, who was also one of our MAPP trainers, noticed. I know my guy is a good guy, but I'm glad that it was clear to our SW, too.

That's was DH's step toward our child. Mine was to get a physical done today. During our training, they warned us that the medical reference form is the one most likely to hold up the completion of the homestudy-doctors are busy and forms get lost in the shuffle. Last week when I called my doctor's office to make an appointment for the physical, the earliest one they would give me was late January. I decided to be assertive (unusual for me) and I even played the adoption card. Luckily, it garnered some sympathy and they got me in with a resident today. He filled out the form in front of me and I just have to stick it in the mail tomorrow. Yay me! Now we wait for the rest of the reference forms to be completed and returned, and then we meet with our SW one more time. I love forward motion!

***********************************************************************************
Just a note about my recent ranting about my coworkers/TTCers. I am so grateful for all the supportive comments. It feels good to be understood. I'm feeling a bit better about my "drowning in pregnancies" situation now. Maybe it's only because I feel like my life is moving forward today, but I have a more laid-back attitude about it. I needed to rage and cry for a couple of days about the unfairness of it all. I'm sure they'll be some painful moments this year when I'll come back to it, but at this point it is what it is. And for the moment, I'm moving on(ward).

Split Personality

2008-12-08T20:46:00.008-05:00

Here I am, thrilled that our homestudy is underway and looking forward to the real possibility of a child in our lives in the next year, and yet I'm still feeling rocked by the second pregnancy announcement at work. I'm trying really hard to reconcile my conflicting emotions. I wrote a few weeks ago about the first of my four ttcing coworkers announcing her pregnancy to the staff. She's due in May. Well, I just found out today that #2 is pregnant. She's due on August 5. This is the one who was concerned that it was taking so long (4 months) so she went ahead with some basic fertility testing-bloodwork, a semen analysis, and an HSG. The test results came back fine, and lo and behold she got pregnant on her next cycle. She hasn't officially announced her pregnancy yet, but she confided her news to my closest friend at work and swore her to secrecy. Luckily, my friend decided my emotional well-being was more important that keeping a secret. She gave me a heads up so I wouldn't be caught off guard at the next staff meeting. I won't spill the beans and I am soooo grateful to my friend. There's nothing like an unexpected pregnancy announcement to bring an IFer to tears. And tears typically don't go over well at work.

In the next breath, my friend said, "So you're OK with T being pregnant." I'm sorry to say that I went off on her a bit. I said (a little too angrily since it's not her fault and she's a good friend), "No, I'm not OK with it. Why would you think I'm OK with it?! It f-king sucks. It hurts. It's going to be one hell of a sucky year, surrounded by pregnant women. But there's nothing I can do about it. So I'll deal." And I will deal because what else is there to do? Especially since all the women with whom I work have good hearts, including the pregnant ones. I'll smile and wish her well. I'll listen to her students tell everyone their teacher is going to have a baby, because that's what little kids do. They take on their teacher's happy news as their own. And I'll listen to my students ask me when I'm going to have a baby, because that's what little kids do. They expect you to give them a piece of the action. I'll listen to the cheerful voices wishing her congratulations (OMG, how wonderful! You must be thrilled!!!) and compare them to the voices consoling us when I shared that we're adopting (Oh, well, that's nice. I bet you'll get pregnant for sure now.). I'll listen to her plan for her paid maternity leave, knowing that, because I'm not giving birth, DH and I have to scrimp and save now for my unpaid adoption leave.

The thing is that I'm still excited about adopting. It seems more and more real every day and I feel more and more certain that it's actually going to happen. We are going to be parents. I'm thinking about furniture and painting the room and potty training and preschool. But it's like those happy adoption thoughts and emotions are on a completely different side of my brain than the "Shoot me, so I don't have to hear another pregnancy announcement" thoughts and emotions. They are separate from each other. One one side, I rage against the unfairness of it all and on the other I am deeply grateful for the chance to be a mom through adoption. I feel like I have a split personality.

One down

2008-12-03T17:39:00.007-05:00

Our first homestudy interview ended about an hour ago. This was my individual interview and I was worried about not having DH with me, but it was not bad at all. Our social worker said that because our profile questionnaire was so detailed, he didn't have as many questions as he usually does. For once, my overly detailed writing style paid off. A pat on the back to me! The interview lasted about an hour and 20 minutes.

He had some questions about our support network. We have a great one between my parents, my sister and BIL, and lots of friends. He asked if there was a possibility I could get pregnant and how that would affect our adoption plans. I stopped him in his tracks when I told him we were preventing. But I also told him that if we stop preventing, I have a less than 1% chance of getting pregnant so it is extremely unlikely. And of course, we would never consider disrupting the adoption because I got pregnant. Apparently, that's not always the case. He told me stories of adoptive parents "sending kids back" when the pre-adoptive mom got a BFP. I was shocked!

A big topic of conversation was the limits DH and I have in terms of special needs. All kids who are in foster care have some kind of abuse and/or neglect in their backgrounds. That combined with the sometimes impermanence of foster care placements can lead to kids having emotional, behavioral, and intellectual difficulties. In my state, applicants who adopt from foster care are asked to fill out a sheet listing lots of special needs and to indicate which they are open to. DH and I have decided that we draw the line at hurting animals, acting out sexually on other children, and starting fires to burn things down (as opposed to starting fires to experiment-yes that is an option and we decided that sometimes kids play with matches-it doesn't mean he's a pyromaniac). Also, we feel that a child with intense medical needs wouldn't be a good match for us since we both work and don't know if we can deal with all the additional doctors appointments, on top of the large number of doctors appointments kids require anyway. However, we are open to children with a myriad of other medical needs including prenatal drug exposure and various physical disabilities, ADHD, learning differences, behavioral issues, etc.

It feels uncomfortable to pick and choose these things because it's not something parents get to do. Most people get pregnant, have a baby, and deal with whatever issues that child ends up having. It makes me feel a little less like a "real" parent to say I'll take this but not this. But then again I think to myself that I would have a lot more control over my child's formative months and years if I conceived him, delivered him, and raised him from birth, than I will by adopting from foster care. Maybe I should just accept this little bit of control as a gift. Mostly this process feels uncomfortable because it feels like we're discarding some kids, saying some aren't worthy or lovable, and who wants to feel like they're doing that to children? However, I also know DCF wants as few disrupted adoptions as possible and the best way to ensure that is for people to be honest about what they can and cannot handle. And we only have this choice now. Once we adopt our child, we'll be like any other parents. Whatever issues arise or whatever we need to do for our child, we will.

We also spoke about age and gender. We're open to a child of any age from birth to five years old, although we've perused profiles of six-year-olds and thought "maybe. . ." I'm open to either gender because I figure that if we got pregnant we wouldn't have a choice. However, I know DH would prefer a boy and I'm fine with that since I don't have a preference of my own. Also, there are more boys in care and more people want girls than boys so preference for a boy should decrease our wait time a bit.

The last subject we discussed was legal risk. In foster-adopt terms, a legal risk placement is one in which the child is not legally free for adoption. DCF has decided that their goal for the child is adoption and are moving toward a termination of parental rights (TPR) of the birthparents. However, there is not a guarantee that TPR will be granted by the court. It more than likely will be, but there is always the risk that the court will order the child to be reunified with the birthparents. A child who is legally free for adoption has already been TPRed so reunification is not a possibility. Younger children are almost always legal risk. Older children are more likely to be legally free. DH and I have a lot of talking to do about this and I don't really know what we'll decide.

I guess a lot more was covered in the interview than I realized. I am just so relieved to have that step done. DH has his individual interview scheduled for late next week. Then it will be two down.

She can't really be pregnant, can she? %#@&

2008-12-01T18:21:00.005-05:00

I swear this isn't like me. I'm not a hateful person. But I'm sending anti-BFP vibes out right now. . .and they're directed toward someone who did IVF. I know, I know, that seems pretty evil, but there's a story behind it and if anyone deserves to feel the pain of a failed IVF, it's this woman. Let's call her B. Don't worry, this isn't a member of our blogging community. She's a friend of a friend and she said the meanest thing anyone has ever said about me and DH and our struggle to have children. When told by my friend that it was taking us a long time to get pregnant and that we were doing IVF (apparently as some kind of cautionary tale when B. was sure she was pregnant three days after ovulating during her first cycle TTC), B. said, "Maybe they just aren't meant to have kids." When asked to clarify, B. said, "They aren't meant to be parents, obviously. It's not working out for them, probably because they won't be good at it. God must be trying to tell them that."

Honestly, I wasn't a huge fan of B. before. I knew her through my friend and have spent time with her over the years at various functions. I always found her to be self-absorbed and superficial. So probably it probably wasn't a conversation that should have been shared with me in the first place. But the second I heard it, I knew it was accurate (it sounds just like B.) and I felt hate in my heart for this woman. Hate is a strong word, but there's no doubt that's what I felt. I actually hoped that she would have trouble conceiving, just so she could feel some of the pain DH and I felt. I thought it might educate her, help her grow as a person, and at least stop her from ever saying something like that again.

Well, it turns out that the Universe has some sense of justice because B. did have trouble getting pregnant. I kept track of her through my friend. I will admit that I felt a small sense of satisfaction whenever I heard that she still wasn't pregnant. After a year of trying, she made the trip to the RE that all of us have made and found out they have male factor IF. I wrote "they", but that's not how B. viewed it. She made sure everyone knew it was "him" that was the problem and that she was "fine." I would not have wanted to be in her DH's place when they got the diagnosis. They ended up doing IVF. Her ER was on November 23 and her ET was on November 26.

And now I hear from my friend that B. is pregnant with twins. I don't know how she could have a BFP so soon-9 dpER-or possibly know it's twins. I guess it's possible that she could have POAS and got a positive, but I suspect it may be a case of B. "just knowing" that she's pregnant. Even so, I wouldn't be surprised if she is. I will be so disappointed. I knew she had a decent chance doing IVF/ICSI with no female issues at all if she got some good eggs, but I wanted her to hurt just a little bit more. I wanted her to wonder if God was trying to tell her something. I wanted her to not get what she wants, to not feel vindicated, for just a little bit longer. IVF#2 would have been good enough (OK that's probably a lie. It wouldn't have been good enough but it would have been better than IVF#1).

I've wondered why I feel so strongly about B. and why her words cause me such pain, especially now when I've given up on the possibility of getting pregnant. I've asked myself if B.'s words hurt so much because I believe they have some truth to them, but that's honestly not the case. I don't believe God is keeping us from getting pregnant or trying to tell us that we aren't meant to be parents. I think it's just that I've never had someone say something so plainly mean about me with such a sense of superiority attached to it. I've encountered lots of ignorance during this journey, but I've never encountered such complete ugliness of heart.

And now I have that ugliness in my own heart and I'm not proud of it. In fact, I'm slightly, maybe more than slightly, ashamed of myself. I don't particularly like the person I am or the feelings I have when I think of B.. I've thought of myself as a fairly forgiving person, but I cannot seem to let go of B.'s words. I probably should hope that she is pregnant because it might help me to move on. As a matter of fact, a BFP for B. would probably be the best thing for me right now.

But you guys will have to wish for it because I. Just. Can't. Do. It.

I Will Not Be Silent about Infertility

2008-11-30T21:23:00.008-05:00

Taina at We Are What We Repeatedly Do has deemed me worthy of the Speak Out, Speak Up award. I appreciate her high opinion of me-that I have the "strength of character to speak out without being a bitch." I know for sure that there are some who would strongly disagree with her on that point. ;)

I guess the award is an affirmation of my loud mouth. I have been far from quiet about my infertility. My immediate family has been in the know since our first RE appointment and I came out to my extended family just before our first IVF over a year ago. I have not been shy with my coworkers either. That openness has led to awkward moments like walking back to my classroom after an IUI and getting a thumbs up from a coworker, to touching moments like a group of coworkers taking my class for a day because I was sick as a dog and they knew I wanted to get better in time for my retrieval.

For a while I was open about my own infertility, but I wasn't quick to confront the ignorance of others head on. But with time I've grown more comfortable and now I have no problem calling people on stupid comments. I don't go around bitchslapping strangers, but friends and acquaintances best watch out if they feel the need to joke about "something in the water" or how if so-and-so relaxes she'll get pregnant. The most recent comment was said by a very good friend about a coworker who has been trying for four whole months. She actually said that if C. stops stressing about it, it will happen. I nailed her with the whole " women in war zones get pregnant, they're pretty stressed... and what about women who live in poverty, they get pregnant, aren't they stressed, what about women who are raped. . ." She cried uncle, as she should have.

My final task as a recipient of this award is to tag four others who have not been silent about their infertility. My nominees are:

Shelby because I know she hopes to be more open when the time is right

Wendy because she's just really cool

Cindy because I know being honest has bitten her in the ass at times (see her November 10 post)

and Steph because she kicks ass as one of the most supportive IFers I know

The Pill

2008-11-29T09:20:00.006-05:00

Did I mention that I'm back on the pill? With so many women in the IF blogosphere trying so hard to get pregnant, it feels sacrilegious for me to say that I have eliminated all chance of that surprise miracle pregnancy that is destined to come to us because we're adopting-you know, that pregnancy that everyone mentions when I share our adoption news. They can't just say congratulations; they have to say, "Now you just know what's going to happen. . ." because everyone knows you can't really be happy as a mom until you've had "one of your own." I apologize for the rant, but the half-congratulations and unfriendly adoption language have been getting to me lately.

Anyway, I've been back on the pill for two months. I struggled with the decision. Our chances of getting pregnant on our own are far less than 1%, but it was hard to take away that possibility, especially since adoption has increased our chances **rolling eyes**. But after I stopped treatment, my body had a major meltdown. Over the summer, during every cycle my cramps started a week and a half before my period and were really bad. Accompanying the cramps was some pretty yucky nausea, which sometimes caused me to lose my breakfast but mostly caused me to lie in bed with a pillow over my head taking deep "don't throw up, don't throw up" breaths. Both the cramps and the nausea continued into my period and, to top it all off, my period was heavier than it's been in a long time. It's always been on the heavy side so you can imagine what these post-infertility treatment periods were like. It was like going back in time to when I was 13, the age at which I went on the pill for the first time due to debilitating cramps (yes, I do wonder if being on the pill at such a young age has anything to do with my infertility). This summer it was as though my body was regressing back to those days. I wonder if it had something to do with my body making one final push toward menopause. I already have Diminished Ovarian Reserve. Maybe the true end of my fertility is closer than I realized.

My gynecologist said it was probably the endometriosis coming back. I don't necessarily agree because the endo they found during my lap in 2006 was light and certainly hadn't been there since I was a teenager. I think it more likely that I just have a f*@&ed up body. She suggested the pill or the IUD, but said with the pill I could come off it more easily if I ever wanted to. She gave me a prescription so I could fill it when I was ready. I resisted until I started back to work after summer vacation and realized how much more miserable the cramps and nausea are when dealing with 20 six-year-olds.

I finally threw in the towel last month. . .and it's been a blessed relief. I'm not in pain. I'm not nauseous. I don't have to go to Co.st.co to stock up on tampons anymore. I feel better than I have in a while. I don't know what it means that I feel better with fake hormones coursing through my body than I do in my natural state, except that, as I said earlier, I have a f*@&ed up body. It's been a relief mentally as well. There's no wondering if I could be pregnant, no "I'm not trying, but I'm still hoping" 2ww, no overanalysis of PMS symptoms. I feel more free than I have at anytime since we started trying. I have control over my body, specifically my fertility now. I may not be pregnant this cycle, but this time it's my choice. I know this choice is just an illusion, but I'll gladly take the illusion of control over reality right now.

One more thing to be grateful for

2008-11-26T19:39:00.004-05:00

We heard from DSS today and a social worker has been assigned to our case. He's the same worker who came to our home to do our preMAPP interview. He was also one of our MAPP trainers, so we know him quite well. We scheduled our first homestudy visit and interview for Wednesday, December 3. For this interview it will be just me. He needs to do individual interviews with each of us and then he'll schedule a visit with both of us together. The visit on December 3 will last about 90 minutes to 2 hours. That tidbit of information threw me a little bit because I can't imagine talking to this man for that length of time, but shoot, I'll talk to anyone for 2 hours if it gets me closer to being a mom.

I am very excited and a little nervous. I'm especially nervous about our dogs. I love them, but they are overly exuberant and very slobbery. They settle down quickly, but I'm afraid the initial reaction might be a little overwhelming. Last time, they "greeted" our social worker and then we put them out on the deck, where they happily sunbathed for the entire time. I don't think putting our dogs on the deck in December is the best way to sell ourselves as responsible potential parents. I'm hoping a long walk before the worker arrives and some kongs filled with peanut butter will do the trick. Any tips?

Happy Birthday to Me (and I Actually Mean It)

2008-11-17T20:17:00.011-05:00

Today I turned 39 and, you know, it wasn't so bad. Last year was a tough birthday for me. Turning 38 put me into the advanced, advanced maternal age category. For my clinic, that meant a major nosedive in success rates for IVF. I had just had IVF#2 converted to yet another useless IUI after developing a dominant follicle. I knew IVF#3 was coming, and I had really hoped to start it before my 38th birthday, as though my chances would immediately drop upon reaching November 17. But my E2 level was too high to cycle so I had to go on BCPs instead and my cycle was pushed back to December. I could feel time slipping away from me and my chances of a pregnancy along with it.

At 39, having stopped fertility treatments, I have virtually no chance of getting pregnant, but amazingly it's OK. I guess that's one of the benefits of choosing adoption. It's changed the nature of time for me. Instead of feeling like time is taking me farther away from a child, now I feel like it's bringing me closer to one. Each day that passes is one day closer to meeting our child, so I'll make a wish (non-TTC related), blow out my candles, and eat my cake with a smile. Bring on a new year!

P.S. I just got back from a family trip to Disney World and I'm a bit behind on my blog reading and commenting. I will work hard to catch up this week.

Great Expectations. . .or not

2008-11-11T09:18:00.001-05:00

One bit of advice that was repeated several times in the course of our MAPP training is that the best approach is to have no expectations of our child and of what parenting will be like. I understand the reason behind this advice: expectations can lead to disappointment and it's best to just deal with a situation as it is without comparing it to the image of what you expected it to be. To be honest I was annoyed by this advice. I thought, infertility has taken so much from me and now I have to give up hope too. Unlike all my friends who are parents, I can't have hope and dreams for my child? Screw that!

I stewed about all of it for a while, until it occurred to me that hope and expectation are not the same thing. I hoped that my closure IVF cycle would work, but I didn't expect it to. I hoped there were lots more eggs in follicles hiding in my ovary that, lo and behold, the RE would find during retrieval, but I didn't expect that to happen. I hoped my one little embryo would be the one, but I wasn't expecting it. It hurt when my last IVF cycle failed, but in a way I hadn't expected it to succeed in the first place (after all, there's a reason it's called closure). The pain was not the same as when IVF#2 got converted. Then I had expected to have the same number or more eggs as I'd had during IVF#1. I'd expected to transfer 3 embryos this time to up our odds. Instead, I ended up with one dominant follicle and an IUI. Now,that was disappointment.

So I've been thinking a lot about expectation vs. hope, and this is how I've come to see it:

Expectation is clearly defined. There's one outcome, an image of what the outcome will look like, and a way to get to that outcome. There is little room for deviation. In fact, deviation leads to disappointment. Expectation is, "I don't think that's too much to ask." Expectation is about control.

Hope is open-ended. It accepts the possibility that the journey may end up in a completely different place that the original destination. It is looking forward to happiness, to good things, without the specific plan of how those good things will come to pass. Hope is, "Wouldn't it be nice, but hey. . . it's all good." Hope is about letting go of control.

And so, I think what our MAPP trainers were warning us against was creating images in our minds of the happy family with the child who loves to read, play ball with Dad, who is smart, well-behaved, funny, and just makes us into the family we've always dreamed about. I think also they wanted to be sure that we don't expect a child to make life better for us, to erase the wounds of infertility. I can see how these expectations could become heavy burdens when loving a child who has experienced trauma. They're too narrow to allow healing to happen.

So DH and I are learning to let go of our expectations, but we still hold on to hope: hope that we can help our child heal from whatever hurts life has inflicted on him, that we'll help him meet his potential whatever it is, that we have enough love in our hearts to take whatever life hands us and make it better. We hope that hope is enough.

Woohoo! Yeah Baby!

2008-11-03T21:04:00.003-05:00

We just got back from our final adoption class. We got a certificate and everything. Of course, it's not really the end of anything, but still it's a milestone. We also passed in our profile questionnaire which is now in the hands of the adoption unit supervisor. Now we wait for an adoption worker to be assigned to us and start scheduling our home visits. Why am I so excited about more waiting?

I Heart Your Blog

2008-11-01T18:42:00.008-04:00

Wendy, from Our Story, gave me the I Heart Your Blog Award. Wendy's blog chronicles her journey from IVF to adoption. Her story reminds me of mine in many ways, and I'm so happy for her as she moves forward with domestic newborn adoption.

The way it works is I need to answer the following questions with single word responses. Then I'm supposed to pass on the award to 7 other bloggers:

1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Where is your significant other? Cooking
3. Your hair color? Chestnut
4. Your mother? Loving
5. Your father? Funny
6. Your favorite thing? Family
7. Your dream last night? Random
8. Your dream/goal? Happiness
9. The room you're in? Cozy
10. Your hobby? Reading
11. Your fear? Loss
12. Where do you want to be in six years? Motherhood
13. Where were you last night? Restaurant
14. What you're not? Energized
15. One of your wish list items? Child
16. Where you grew up? Massachusetts
17. The last thing you did? Wine
18. What are you wearing? Jeans
19. Your T.V.? Off
20. Your pet? Snoring
21. Your computer? Mac
22. Your mood? Melancholy
23. Missing someone? Always
24. Your car? Subaru
25. Something you're not wearing? Contacts
26. Favorite store? Borders
27. Your Summer? Relaxing
28. Love someone? Lots
29. Your favorite color? Green
30. When is the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Today

I'm always bad about passing on tags and awards. I'm the same way about chain emails. Here are a few blogs I love to read. I know it's not seven, but most of my other faves have already been tagged/awarded:

We Are What We Repeatedly Do
Are You There God? It's Me, Cindy, and I Want a Baby!
A Long and Winding Road
The Great Big If. . .

Finding My Place

2008-10-28T16:13:00.028-04:00

One of the hardest parts of being at this stage in my life is feeling like I don't have a place where I really belong. I'm in between worlds right now. I'm not TTC. I'm not choosing to live childfree. I'm not an adoptive parent-yet. And even though I am expecting in a way, I don't fit in with those who are pregnant after infertility. We've come through infertility with different scars, different wounds. For the past two years, as I've been dealing with my journey through infertility to adoption, I've benefited from the generous support of amazing women on online infertility message boards. But as our paths diverge, I feel more and more out of place there. Unfortunately, so far I haven't found that type of connection with those in my situation of adopting from foster care. Many of the adoption boards I have seen focus on those who are already parenting. Or they're specific to international adoption or domestic newborn adoption, which can be quite different than adopting from foster care, at least at the beginning. I know once we're placed with a child, there will be more support options, more connections. But right now I'm feeling a bit lost. I have started forming real life connections with others in my MA.PP classes. My hope is that those connections will grow over the next few months as our homestudy is completed and we begin to wait. I'll admit that this real life thing is new for me. It's taking some getting used to talking about my worries and anticipation face to face.

My underlying worry is that this sense of not quite fitting in will never go away, even after I become a parent. Am I always going to feel uncomfortable or disconnected unless I'm with other adoptive parents? Will I be accepted and will I accept myself as a real parent? Am I always going to have the word adoptive attached to my description when others talk about me? What do I say when other mothers start talking about childbirth? What about when they reminisce about their child's first steps or first words, which I likely won't have witnessed in my child? How do I answer when they ask how I chose my child's name when I probably didn't have a choice? Of course the even bigger more important question is, if I feel like this, how can my child begin to feel comfortable with himself and his place in the world?

I don't doubt myself and our choice of adoption because I'm struggling to find my place or because I'm questioning what the future will look like. I know my questions aren't unique. Adoption can be a minefield of questions about identity and fitting in, about relationships and the definition of family, about rejection and conection. I just hope that I have the ability to find answers that work for me, DH, and our child.

Just Adopt

2008-10-26T00:59:00.002-04:00

I'm back. I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I don't really have a good excuse. I could say that I've been busy with school starting, busy with our adoption classes, busy with filling out the couple's profile, busy, busy, busy. But really, it's just been hard to write lately.

I guess I should start by saying that our adoption classes are going well. I don't exactly look forward to spending 3 hours every Monday night in a windowless, stuffy room at Social Services hearing about sexual abuse, causes of fire starting behavior, and how to deal with bedwetting, but I know it will help us in the long run. Luckily, the other people in the class are a cool bunch. Out of eight couples in the class, more than half have dealt with infertility. Two are same-sex couples. There is one single woman. I actually get to laugh a fair amount. With some of the material that's being covered, if I couldn't laugh, I'd have to cry.

Our seventh class is this week, so one more to go. DH and I are trying to get our 35-page profile questionnaire completed before then. I'm embarrassed to say that I think we're the last ones in class to get it done. It's not an easy task, as it's full of gems like, "What do you like most and least about each other? How do you show respect for each other's differences? Give examples." and "Describe the defining moments in your childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. Give examples. How have these moments impacted your views of parenting?" There are many, many more questions, all with multiple parts. And with my tendency to reflect and elaborate, I'm writing far too much for each one. The 35-page profile is quickly gaining pages.

However, my diarrhea of the keyboard may be necessary to counteract DH's brevity. He has a horrible relationship with his family and is having a hard time writing about it. He's resorted to answers like "None" and "N/A". I've tried to explain to him that "None" is not an acceptable answer to, "Describe your current relationship with your parents." The social worker is going to expect more information. I think he's slowly coming around. I hope he's coming around. He'd better be coming around.

Once the profile is handed in, we'll be assigned a social worker. That person will schedule 2-4 home visits/interviews with us. We'll also need to complete a Physical/Emotional/Behavioral Needs sheet. We basically need to say what kind of tough stuff can we think we can deal with in a child we adopt. When that's done, our worker will use the information from the home visit and the profile to write our homestudy. Oh, we'll also need to get our fingerprints done. That's a brand new requirement in our state. The timeline we're being given right now is that our homestudy might be done by the end of January/beginning of February. Then we wait for a placement.

Since we sent in our initial application to adopt in February of this year, that means we'll be just about a year into the process before our waiting even begins. If anyone ever again in my presence says, "Just adopt," I will hit him over the head with my 35-page. . .45-page. . .OK, 80-page profile. That should knock some sense into him.

We got it

2008-08-27T12:03:00.008-04:00

The invitation letter to our MAPP training came yesterday afternoon. In about a week and a half we'll have our first class. I feel like we're actually doing something toward making this happen, even though in reality we're just waiting to do something. It reminds me of when I went to RE#2 and got a plan for a new IVF protocol. It felt like getting a shot of a new feel-good drug. I guess hope is a high. I remember counting the days until AF would come and I could start lupron---and I hated lupron. I didn't know then that IVF wouldn't bring us the child we longed for, but I'm feeling confident that adoption will. And as of yesterday we're one step closer.

We're in unless I hear otherwise. . .la, la, la, la, la, la (fingers in ears)

2008-08-25T22:01:00.008-04:00

I left a message for our adoption social worker almost two weeks ago asking when MAPP training would start. MAPP classes are the state-run classes all prospective foster and foster-adopt parents need to take in order to be licensed by the state. DH works a lot of nights and we need to arrange for him to swap shifts with people, so I was anxious to have dates in hand. Our social worker called me back last week and left a message. He said that classes start on Monday, September 8. He also said that they would be sending out the invite letters soon. A week later and we're still waiting for a letter, but I'm assuming we're in. He listed all the dates for me and ended his message with, "I hope to see you then." That's pretty much an invite, right? You would take it that way, wouldn't you?

I have a tendency to worry about things. I know it's ridiculous, but I would feel so much better having a letter as proof that we can attend, that we're moving on to the next step. I think that's one of the left-over pieces of infertility that I need to deal with---this low-level but ever-present worry that things aren't going to work out. I find that I often expect the worse. It's one of those shadows I wrote about in my last post. I know this will pass with time . . . with time and a damn letter from social services. Is that the mailman?

There is no light at the end of the tunnel, but then again there is no tunnel

2008-08-18T21:45:00.000-04:00

I was talking with a friend last week about coming out the other side of infertility. She was saying that so often people think the other side of infertility is getting pregnant, but that's only one other side. This huge spiral amorphous beast called infertility has more than one way out, or at least out of the darkest part of it. And I think I'm closer to being out of it than I ever thought possible.

For a while, I was picturing my movement away from the depths of the darkness of infertility, where I've spent the last three years, as moving toward the light at the end of the tunnel. Then I realized that infertility isn't like a tunnel. There's no straight shot from Point A to Point B. Early in my journey, that's how I saw it. I thought I would move down the continuum of infertility treatments and eventually get to end of the tunnel: a BFP. Well, I never got there, and I have since learned from some of my infertile friends that, sadly, a BFP isn't necessarily the end of the tunnel anyway.

So instead I've come to see infertility as an enormous black cloud constantly overhead. It was its own weather system, visible on radar, affecting everything I did, every decision I made. Sometimes I was under the deepest, darkest part of the cloud and I didn't see the sun for days and weeks at a time. During those times, I couldn't imagine that there would ever be sun again, unless I got pregnant. I forgot what the sun felt like on my face. I thought I would always live in darkness. Maybe I even started to think that I wasn't worthy of light-that I deserved to be in this sad, miserable place. I didn't realize that I didn't deserve the unhappiness of infertility any more than someone deserves bad weather. And I had no more control over being infertile than I had over whether it rains or the sun comes out tomorrow.

Every once in a while there were breaks in the cloud and the sun came shining through. Maybe it was because I was taking a break from treatment, maybe it was because I saw a new RE and had a new plan, maybe it was because I came across a post about an adoption conference in my area. I thought, "Ah, yes this is what it feels like to be happy, to feel hopeful, to live again." It took more than a few of these moments before I began to think that perhaps I didn't have to live under the cloud, even if I never did get pregnant. I couldn't move the cloud, but possibly I could move myself. Maybe I could walk out from under it. Maybe pregnancy wasn't going to be my deliverance-a thought that was unthinkable, or at least unacceptable, just months before. I came to that revelation through necessity when our last IVF failed. But really I was starting to get there before then, when I began to think that adopting might be better than hurting like I was, when I began to wonder which I wanted more---to be pregnant or to be a parent.

I don't really know how or when it happened, but right now I feel like I'm living right at the edge of the cloud. Most of the time I'm in the sun. Once in a while, the cloud casts a shadow over me, but it passes. I don't panic anymore or sink into the depths of despair because I know the darkness is only temporary. Even my hatred toward my body will heal, I believe. I don't feel angry at fate for its capricousness or at ignorant fertiles for their ignorance. What I am starting to feel is peace. Now that doesn't mean I don't feel hurt, when others squeal over my colleague's baby bump or my friend shares all the glorious details of her ultrasound. But the pain isn't as deep and doesn't last long. I know that--- the squeals, the bump, the ultrasound---won't ever be mine and I'm beginning to be OK with that.

I came across this quote here, and it resonated with me:

A woman in Barbara Eck Menning's classic study Infertility said, "My infertility resides in my heart like an old friend. I do not hear from it for weeks at a time, and then, a moment, a thought, a baby announcement or some such thing, and I will feel the tug---maybe even be sad or shed a few tears. And I think 'there's my old friend; It will always be a part of me. . .' "

Perhaps I'm not quite at the point of seeing infertility as "my old friend", but I can live with it always being a part of me. I never, ever thought I would say that.

Body Hate

2008-08-04T23:05:00.007-04:00

So I can't deny any longer that I'm fat. Very fat. I'm not "need to be lifted out of my bed with a crane, Richard Simmons is my friend" fat, but I am "shop at Lane Bryant, turn sideways through the turnstile" fat. It's not a total surprise because I've been fat before, but I thought I never would be again. I used to hate my body, but I got worried about my health when my parents were both diagnosed with Type II diabetes. Worried enough that I made a change. I started cooking and eating nutritious food and skiing and kayaking and running. My body was strong and healthy and I liked it that way. Heck, I loved it that way.

Then I started TTC and my body turned on me. Ironically it looked healthy but it was actually messed up inside. So now I guess I've turned on my body. It's defective and isn't worthy of health. I know that's not a rational way to think about it, but I also know that's the way I feel deep down. In the past, I was able to work out and change my eating habits to get my body healthy. I know how to do it and I know I'm capable of doing it. But somehow it's not worth the effort now.

Intellectually, I know that I need to make it worth the effort, but I'm not sure how to deal with the emotional piece. I don't have any answers. I'm just hoping that writing about it will help me sort out the pieces.

Home Visit and Cold Feet

2008-08-01T00:56:00.009-04:00

We had our home visit yesterday. I spent the last two days cleaning and organizing. My closets are neat, my fridge is spotless, and my windows are streak-free. We passed, which wasn't a hard feat because all that the social worker did was peek at our "child's" room (to make sure it's big enough to hold a child), test the smoke detectors, and check for exits. I tried to think of subtle ways to get him to notice the scrubbed baseboards and the neatly stacked tupperware, but everything I came up with seemed slightly awkward. If you don't mind waiting just a minute, I'll get you a tupperware container to take that bottled water back to the office in (I should have baked cookies; I could have offered a container then). Oops, I dropped the matching (and easily accessible) lid right next to our squeaky clean baseboard. No worries. Oh, look how the sunlight streaming in from the crystal clear window glass through the lid makes a prism on the freshly scrubbed wall. Anyway, we should get a letter soon inviting us to take MAPP classes, our next step in the process, in September.

Which is just great timing in light of the fact that DH and I are now beginning to question whether we can or even want to do this. By "this", I mean become parents. Is that shocking? I think it must because I could never even say those words out loud to anyone I know in real life. They just get stuck in my throat. Why are we having cold feet now?

DH has the more noble category of concerns and questions. He's worried about what kind of parent he's going to be. He didn't have the best examples growing up and he doesn't want to pass that junk on to his child. He's concerned that he'll fail in his efforts to teach our child what he or she needs to know to be a good person. I think he's worried about having the same kind of messed up relationship with our child that he has with his parents.

As for me, well, my fears are (embarrassingly) selfish ones. For the first time in a long time, I feel like my life belongs to me. I'm not anxious or stressed out about anything. I don't have to plan my life around appointments and injections. I love spending time with DH without the cloud of treatments hanging over our heads all the time. It's like when we were dating, but better. I feel so free. Am I ready to give up this newly rediscovered control over my life for the roller coaster of adoption and parenthood?

If we had got pregnant from our last IVF, we might have had the same worries, but we wouldn't have perceived that there was a choice. We would have just kept going down the path on which we started three years ago. But, as preadoptive parents, we do have a choice. We could stop all this right now and live our lives child-free: be the favorite auntie and uncle to all our friends' kids, travel, go out to dinner, drink wine, and have only each other to worry about. I've never actually considered that before and now that I'm examining the possibility of a life without adoption, having that choice makes the whole situation feel overwhelming.

From what I've read and heard, all our fears are normal. But still they make me doubt myself. That's what fear always does, right? I can't say that the thought of turning away from adoption brings me less fear. It doesn't feel right to me at all. In fact, it's enough to nearly bring on a panic attack. But I am afraid that the adoption process will turn me into the person I was when we were going through treatments. I don't want to be that unhappy, stressed out person again. Now that I have a bit of distance from it, I just can't go back there--I can't. I guess the benefit of cold feet is that you get to look at your situation and make a conscious choice about how to deal with it, rather than going through the motions. You feel the doubt and fear and move through it, more aware of the pitfalls, and maybe, just maybe, being more capable of avoiding them. Or at least that's my hope.

Ending Rituals

2008-07-29T01:10:00.002-04:00

There are rituals for every beginning and ending in life. We have baby showers, christenings, graduations, weddings, funerals, and countless other events to mark the passage from one stage or life to another. I've noticed lately that I've created my own rituals for the beginning and end of fertility treatments.

When I began treatments, in particular IVF, I made an injection space for myself in our spare bedroom. I made space for my meds in the fridge. I set up a folder with my instructions and bookmarked the Vill.age Ph.ar.ma.cy website. I bought pregnancy tests. Everything in my life was prepared for the cycle. I set my cellphone alarm every day and evening so I would never forget to do an injection at the correct time. I put a bottle of water by my bed every night before blood work so I would remember to drink it first thing in the morning. It made it easier for the blood techs to draw blood from my little veins. I put my phone on vibrate every afternoon so I could know when the nurse was calling with instructions without disturbing the peace. And then, before we knew it, all this structure wasn't necessary anymore and it was time to move on with life. And it was hard because I knew how to do IVF. I'd done it four times. Moving on was new to me.

Ending treatments has led to rituals all its own. I cleared off the bureau that was my injection space. I packed up the sharps container that I hadn't discarded because it still had room to be filled and asked DH to bring it to the hospital for me. I got rid of my old meds: no more follistim or cetrocide in my fridge next to the tomatoes. I planned a vacation for the first time in two years without checking FF to see when I might be ovulating. I have started filling up my wine rack again. I stopped taking prenatals and stocked up on feminine hygiene supplies. I started drinking caffeinated coffee again a few times a week..

All these little rituals have been performed with a sense of purpose. They haven't just happened. I've made myself do them. Why? I guess for the same reason we have christenings, weddings, and funerals. They mark the moment when one part of life ends and another begins. Without that mark, I think we would be less able to move on, more likely to get stuck where we are. I feel like my end-of-treatment rituals are helping me to let go. Each one brings me a step further away from our last devastating IVF result and closer to finding peace with all of this.

To My Dear Friend on the Day After Her Wedding

2008-07-13T19:06:00.005-04:00

Dear Friend,

First, I'll tell you again that you were an absolutely beautiful bride last night. You and your new husband were so visibly happy and hopeful about the future and all it holds for you. On my card to you, I wrote that I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness. That's true, but there are other things I wish and hope for you that I didn't feel I could put on the card:

I wish you hadn't told everyone that you were going to TTC right away (starting last night). You've been so open about starting a family immediately. I hope that you don't regret your honesty as time wears on.

I wish that the excitement you felt last night, as you and DH had "baby-making sex" for the first time, is all you ever feel as you TTC. I hope you never feel like sex becomes a chore because you're having it not because you want to but because your chart or your doctor say you have to. May you never ever feel the need to let an OPK tell you when to make love with your husband.

I wish for you that you get pregnant quickly, that you get to see the two pink lines you long for in the next few months. I hope you never begin to wonder if maybe sex won't lead to a baby after all and start researching REs online "just in case."

I know you'll find a sweet and clever way to share the BFP with your husband. I wish for you to always remember that moment when you both knew your love for each other was going to be made tangible in the world. I hope you never have the memory of your husband holding your hand as the nurse calls with your beta results and crying in his arms when your last chance to have a baby with his eyes and your nose fails. I hope you never feel like your body has failed the one you love.

I wish for you to savor the excitement of both your families when you share your happy news with them. The prospect of the first grandchild on either side will bring extra joy, I imagine. I hope you'll never have to see the worry in your mother's eyes as you share with her that you have an appointment with the RE next month because it's just not happening.

I wish for you to revel in the enthusiasm of friends and coworkers when you share your pregnancy with them, the squeals of excitement and questions about due dates and morning sickness. Please know that I will be glad for you when the time comes, but my first reaction may not be the one you want to see because your gain will remind me of all I have lost. However, that moment of grief will pass and I will feel genuinely happy for you. I know you will be a wonderful mom. I hope you never have to excitedly announce the news that you and your husband will be adopting to be told, "Now you'll get pregnant for sure." May you never sense that congratulations from others are mixed with pity, or worry that your child will be viewed as a consolation prize.

I wish for you that you feel connected to other women as they share their pregnancy stories with you and you get to share your own. You will finally be part of the club. I hope you never feel on the outside looking in because you have no story to share.

I wish for you to see your baby's heartbeat beating strongly on an ultrasound while you husband sits next to you with tears in his eyes. I hope you are never looking at the picture of the embryos you and your husband have created with tears in your own eyes knowing that, because you just got your period, they will never grow any bigger than in the photo.

I wish for you to be showered with gifts and love at your baby shower. I know you've attended many and have long wanted one of your own. Have fun playing How Big Is My Belly? and unscrambling baby names. I hope you never feel selfish and superficial because you feel sad about not having a shower; you've always imagined having one but it's not really done when you adopt from foster care. It's a bit awkward when you don't have specific child for it. Besides, shouldn't you just be grateful to have a child at all?

I wish for you to hold your newborn in your arms and see your late dad's eyes in his tiny little face, to feel wonder that this little infant grew inside you for nine months and is unmistakably yours. I hope you never worry that someone could take your child away from you because, after all, he's not really yours until a judge says so.

And of course, as I wrote on my card to you, I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness.

Love Always,

Karen

Time to get rid of the outhouse

2008-07-01T00:35:00.004-04:00

A social worker called yesterday to schedule our home visit so we can be invited to the state foster-adoption training. We're on for July 31. This is just an initial safety inspection visit. He'll check to make sure we have room for a baby and that our house is safe. By safe, I don't mean that we have to babyproof yet, but that we have smoke detectors, fire extinguishers, etc. Oh, yes, and they also check for running water and electricity. That means DH and I need to call the plumber so we can get rid of our outhouse and install an inside bathroom. How long do you think that will take?

What do you do with the baby photos?

2008-06-25T18:09:00.007-04:00

I was tidying up in our spare bedroom when I stumbled across the photos from our two embryo transfers. That there are only two photos is telling in itself, since we attempted 4 IVF cycles. There the photos were, in between some socks and a couple of camisoles I forgot about. There were three embryos in total: two 8-cell grade B embryos from our first transfer and one 4-cell grade A from our second. I had stashed the pics in a drawer in the bureau that I always used as my injection center.

I don't remember putting either of them in the drawer. I don't remember thinking, "I can't bear to look at these" and hiding them away. I do remember showing the first photo to everyone in my family and several friends, really anyone who knew we were doing IVF. I said, "Look at our babies. Aren't they beautiful?" God, it stings just thinking about how naive I was. I was pretty sure at least one of those embryos would turn into a baby and be in my arms right now. We would have been due in early May. I'd be breast feeding right now, getting no sleep, listening to our baby coo. I remember that DH and I were concerned about twins-part worried, part hoping. I carried that photo everywhere with me during the two week wait. Until I got my period. Then I guess I shoved in the dresser drawer Out of sight, out of mind. But not really.

I didn't show anyone the photo from our second embryo transfer. I was much wiser, more cautious this time. I felt lucky we even made it to transfer, after having two IVFs converted to IUIs. Our one embryo was behind in its growth, but we tried to view it as a late bloomer instead of as delayed. Although I didn't show anyone the photo, I looked at it all the time. I'll admit that I even talked to it: "C'mon sweetie, you can do it. Mommy and Daddy love you. We're waiting for you." Then I started bleeding and I knew that it didn't matter anymore, and that photo ended up in the drawer, too.

So now I'm asking myself what I should do with these photos of babies that weren't meant to be. It seems silly to keep them. What's the point? There's no baby book to put them in. No child to tell, "Here's our earliest picture of you." But I can't throw them away yet. Every time I imagine them in the trash, I get a panicky feeling in my chest. I wonder if once we adopt I'll want to get rid of them, but I don't think so. It seems like my feelings about one have very little to do with the other. So I put the photos back in the drawer. I guess they'll stay there until I'm ready to let them go. If I'm ever ready to let them go.

MIA

2008-05-30T22:48:00.003-04:00

I'm going to be MIA from my blog for a couple of weeks. I'll be following all your blogs, but I probably won't get to comment much. I'm in the final push at the end of the school year and I need to spend lots and lots of time at school. After June 18, I will be back to normal, except I'll be on vacation. Woohoo! Now back to work.

Campfire Reflections

2008-05-25T13:17:00.000-04:00

There's something about a campfire that inspires soul sharing. Maybe it's just the absence of other distractions or the alcohol often imbibed around said campfire. DH and I are camping this weekend. We spent last night sitting around a campfire talking about the past few years. We talked about how I'm feeling, how DH is feeling, our hopes for the future. We talked more than we have in a long time. I think we've spent so much time lately just getting through procedures and appointments and making medical decisions that we haven't taken any time to reflect.

I'm feeling better than I was last week. I think I'm doing well considering the situation. I don't think doing well means I'm never sad or angry or (gasp) bitter. I think it means that I can feel all of these things and not get stuck in those feelings. I can feel those emotions and let them move on. I do find myself able to look forward for the first time in a long time. I've even caught myself thinking that by next summer DH and I will likely, probably, maybe have a child. It's hard to even write it because I start feeling superstitious, like it's possible to jinx it. I've also learned in the past 3 years that life often doesn't work out just the way you plan it, so I'm reluctant to presume anything will ever work out. Even so, it looks like there's a possibility that we will be parents by next summer. So I've decided that if we can't take adoption classes until this fall, I'm going to try to make the most of this summer. I plan to visit friends in other states, read lots of books, and do projects around the house. I always hear people advise pregnant women that they should enjoy the months before they give birth because that will be their last selfish or alone time for a while. I think I'm going to treat myself the same way. After all, I keep telling myself, I am an expectant mom in some ways.

By the fire, DH actually shared how he's been feeling, which is unusual. He is the type of guy who tries to focus on the positive so he tends to avoid talking about what bugs him. He said that at first, when it was clear that IVF wasn't going to work for us, he felt cheated. He wasn't sure he would ever have a child, due to horrible motorcycle accident several years ago. He had massive pelvic injuries, including to his testicles, and doctors told him he might never father children. Then when his semen analysis came back normal and our first RE was so positive about our chances, he started to feel hope for a biological child again. When we tried so hard and nothing worked, he felt like it was worse than just knowing from the start that it wasn't possible. Our whole TTC journey was a big tease.

DH is a po.lice off.icer in a drug-ridden city and has the misfortune of working with many adults who neglect their children. He has to face the unfairness all the time. Here we've been struggling to have a child who would be the center of our lives and some of his "clients" take their children so for granted. Their children should be a priority for them, but they're visibly NOT. He shared with me how angry and upset he gets when he's dealing with people who find money to buy W.ii and plasma TVs, but there's not a single toy in their apartments for their kids. He sees mothers and father fighting about having no money for diapers when there's two new cartons of cigarettes on the kitchen counter. Last night, he told me that every once is a while he lets another offi.cer take over a call because he gets too angry to be impartial. It's one of the reasons he wants so badly to adopt from the foster care system. He sees neglected and abused kids all the time and he wants to give them another life.

Talking about all of this helps us move forward, I think. And it does feel like we're moving forward, ever so slowly. I'm expecting ups and downs-that's why it's called a roller coaster after all. I'm starting to have the sense that this ride will actually end with us being parents. Last week, DH and I were in our spare bedroom, putting some things away, and he looked at me and said, "Hey, this is the baby's room." And you know what? It finally feels like it is.

**********************************************************************************

Thank you for all the kind responses to my last post. I can't tell you how much all your support means to me.

Big Fat Tears

2008-05-15T20:53:00.011-04:00

Hurt is like a big wave washing over me tonight. It came out of nowhere and has me crying nonstop--the big fat slow-rolling type of tears crying. I made the mistake of checking out the IF Grads section of an online board I'm part of. I like to check in on the women there when I'm in a good place emotionally; I've known many of them a long time and I wish them only happiness. I felt like I was doing well enough to handle it. I guess I was wrong. Now I can't stop imagining being a rightful member of that group. Talk of NT scans, scheduling ultrasounds, celebrating my last PIO shot, dealing with morning sickness, deciding whether to rent a doppler, calculating my due date, all the rituals of pregnancy-I so long to be a part of that. I just feel so empty and sad.

I keep trying to pinpoint a reason for feeling this way at this moment in time. I thought I was doing so well with ending our efforts for a biological child and now I'm falling apart. In my mind, I've gone through all the possible reasons that I'm having such a hard time tonight: it's been a week since our BFN; our social worker just told us we probably can't take our required adoption classes until the fall; DH and I are starting to spend weekends in NH again and I was so sure that the next summer I was up there I would be pregnant; I got a letter from my health insurer reminding me yet again that they only approved me for one IVF cycle (obviously the RE's office hasn't billed them yet).

But I think I'm just wasting my time trying to find a reason. Grief is grief. It doesn't follow a straight line and it often shows up unexpectedly. There is no logic to it. My only personal experience with grief is the loss of my grandparents. My grandmother died when I was 4 years old and my grandfather died when I was 16. That was 34 and 22 years ago, respectively, and I still miss them, sometimes at the most surprising times. I missed them at my wedding of course, but I also miss them when I see an elderly couple holding hands in the mall. I remember the intensity of the emotions I felt when I first lost each of my grandparents. Now when I miss them, it feels more like a dull ache than a sharp pain but it's still feels like something. That's another thing I've learned about grief: it doesn't end, but it does get less intense with time.

I know losing a flesh and blood person isn't the same as what DH and I are experiencing. But we are losing the biological children we will never get to have together, our might-have-been children. I used to wonder if my Irish ancestry and DH's red highlights would bring us a redhead-- now I'll never know. I wondered if our biological child would be an early bird like DH or a night owl like me--I'll never know. I wondered if our biological child would have his long classic nose or my button one--I'll never know. Would our child blush easily like me? Have DH's smile, including the dimples? Inherit a thick head of hair from both of us? I'll never know. Never.

I plan to let myself mourn my might-have-been children tonight. I worry that this implies that I'll love my meant-to-be children less, but I don't believe that. I think that I need to let go of what might have been in order to fully embrace what's meant to be. This grief I feel is part of that letting go. I know that I'll be a mom through adoption, and I will love my children with all my heart. My life will hold joy again in the future. But that doesn't mean it isn't hard to let go or that it doesn't hurt like hell right now.

Mother's Day

2008-05-11T19:19:00.003-04:00

I had already been dreading Mother's Day for a year and started dreading it even more once I realized that my beta for my last IVF cycle would take place a couple of days before it. I guess I really didn't expect a BFP and I wondered how I would get through the day. Last year was really bad. I was facing our first IVF cycle and I couldn't believe we had got to that point. I had been so sure we would get pregnant before then. I mean, damn my RE actually had me do a couple of natural IUIs because she thought we would get pregnant easily, too. It was just a matter of timing. Then every month my prognosis got progressively worse. . .a cyst, a bigger cyst, suspicion of an endometrioma, a lap, a nasty benign tumor, an ovary removed, elevated FSH, poor response, possible DOR, definite DOR, and so on. And now this Mother's Day, I would either be pregnant from our last IVF or done with trying to conceive a biological child.

On Thursday we got the word that IVF#4 had failed and now we're officially done with TTC. But this Mother's Day was not nearly as bad as I expected. I don't really understand why. Maybe it's because I know with certainty that adoption is our path. There's no more "maybe I could be," "I hope I will be," "could it be?" I'm done with hoping for a biological child. There will not be a pregnancy, but there will be a child. I'm sure of it now. Perhaps moving forward down the path less-traveled is better than being stuck in one place.

My mother gave me a card for Mother's Day. It told how special I am to her. Then she wrote that she knows DH and I will be great parents, and that when we adopt our child she and my family will be ready to welcome our child into their hearts and their homes. The card made me cry, but in a good way. This is actually the best Mother's Day I've had in years. May next year be even better.

What I have to get used to

2008-05-10T15:31:00.010-04:00

I went to a bridal shower today and saw a glimpse of my future. I figured a bridal shower would be pretty safe. After all, it's not a baby shower. Of course, when I got there I was surrounded by pregnant bellies. There were at least 5 enormously pregnant women present. I should have known. The bride is 30 years old which seems to be the age of fertility around these parts. The shower was a reminder of what I'll have to get used to now that I've put an end to TTC and decided to move on with adoption.

I'll have to get used to hearing conversations about pregnancy "It's another girl. We found out last week," "My labor went so fast when I had my youngest," "Oh my God, I had the worst heartburn with Addison. It was awful,". . .and knowing that I have absolutely nothing to offer to the conversation. All I have to offer are stories of my sister's and friends' pregnancies. How pathetic is that? It's better just to smile and keep my mouth shut. I'll have to get used to being silent.

I'll have to get used to smiling benignly at comments like "There are so many pregnant women here. If I were the bride I'd be running in the other direction". . .all the while thinking that if fertility were catchy I'd be rubbing up against all those preggos right now. And if infertility were catchy, my friend the bride would be running as far and fast from me as she possibly can. As a matter of fact, if infertility were catchy, I'd be standing by myself in a corner of the room.

I'll have to get used to realizing how much others take their fertility for granted and always worrying about that. There's a tradition at bridal showers that for every ribbon you break when opening a present you'll have a child. At this shower the attendants were cutting the ribbons for the bride and guests told the bride she has to break some ribbons. She called over to our friend who was sitting next to me and asked how many she should break. My friend, who has two children still in diapers, replied that she would definitely recommend that she break only two ribbons. I remember being so naive as to think babies would come easily and that I could start and stop having them whenever I wanted. Whenever I hear someone I care about assuming they'll get pregnant, I feel a twinge of anxiety. I say a quick prayer: Please God don't let her be like me.

I'll have to get used to being happy for others when I'm feeling like I'm on the verge of falling apart. The bathroom was my refuge at this bridal shower and I expect it will be at many future events. My friend the bride wants to get pregnant immediately, ideally on her honeymoon. And I know that she will, I just know it. So I'll have a baby shower to attend next year and I will go because she's a wonderful person and I care about her. Actually I'll have at least two showers to attend because one of my best friends is already pregnant. So I'll have to get used to plastering a smile on my face and just crying quietly in the bathroom when it gets too hard.

Something about this shower made me realize that adjusting to never being pregnant is going to be a lifelong task. I could picture myself at age 68 attending my friends' daughters bridal showers and struggling with the same issues. I will never have a pregnancy story or a birth story. I will never connect with other women over those events. Some conversations will always sting. What gives me hope is that I have heard adoptive mothers say that the hurt does get better, less intense once they adopt. It does not go away, but it hurts less. I'm putting my trust in them.