Poem

I feel am a mother, though my children you cannot see
I have a special mother’s heart that beats inside of me
Hard and long I’ve struggled, long and hard I have prayed
I’ve taken medication, I’ve tried so many many ways
Yet, it didn’t seem to matter how many times I tried
I was unable to conceive, my dreams inside me died
I know I am a mother, I feel it deep inside
I know I have a mother’s love, her grace and hope and pride
I long to hug my children close, to kiss them all good night
For now I keep on waiting, and hoping with all my might
I know God holds my children, in His strong and mighty hands
I know He keeps them safe for me, He saves them for His plans
One day I hope I shall be a mother with her kids
Grateful for all the nursery rhymes and games of pick-up-sticks
Until that day arrives, I’ll remain and forever be
A mother in my own mind, with children no one can see 

Changing Gears

 Friday I was finally able to speak with Consuelo, from the adoption agency. She answered my questions regarding the paperwork and the orientation/informational session, but more importantly, she made me feel like I am doing everything correctly and she seems willing to work at the same pace we are – which is quickly. Consuelo explained that we don’t have to attend the informational session, that she covered this information with me when we first spoke on the phone, but if I would like to I can come in on 7/13 to hear it all again. Me, being me, would like to hear it again because A) the first time I was in Wawa getting my lunch, so I couldn’t write things down and B) I still have a lot more questions than answers and I am hoping to get the answers at this informational session. So, I told her I will be attending. She said I can turn in all the paperwork (except the autobiographies) at this time and also bring along a money order or certified check to pay for all the clearances – that’s $106. She states she hopes that most of the clearances will be back before our training sessions the end of August and through September (they are every other Saturday over the course of six weeks). And, she would like to have our interview before the training sessions. She said we can work on our autobiographies but we will need to revise them after the trainings. And I will need to translate Flaco’s from Spanish to English. I like having things to do because it makes me feel like the whole process is moving forward. No action makes me feel like we are in limbo, not actively trying to conceive yet not actively pursuing adoption. I don’t like ambiguity in the best of situations, but when it comes to something this important, I simply cannot stand it.     
     In a definitive step away from infertility, I have officially stopped taking the Metformin. When I told a fellow infertile friend that I had stopped, she seemed completely flabbergasted. How could I stop taking a medicine that might miraculously help me to get pregnant? I hadn’t been on it that long and it takes time for it to regulate my body, to hopefully get me to ovulate again. Don’t I want a biological child anymore? I reflected on our conversation later, thinking perhaps I was being foolish in not continuing to take the medication, to let go of the last tiny ammunition I had to beat infertility. But, I am too far gone into adoption world to head back into infertility, no matter how minor. Flaco and I have made our decision. We are adopting. To borrow a term from the fertile world, we are expecting. If we were expecting a biological baby, we would not be trying different techniques or continuing medication to conceive. Why should we when we are expecting a baby through adoption? I cannot simultaneously attempt to get pregnant while I am in the process of adoption. In my mind, if I were to get pregnant I would not want to pursue adoption and go from no babies to two babies in one fell swoop. And, I would not be able to have a child placed with us, only to turn around and hand them back because I’ve got my own bun in the oven. So, to me, the best thing to do is not pursue any infertility treatments. That would include not taking the evil Metformin. Why should I cling to that deceptive hope that one zany month the Metformin will cause me to ovulate and egg will meet sperm in perfect harmony? I’ve ovulated in the past and never got pregnant. Not once. I am convinced there is more than one problem with my dejected system, but no doctor has taken the time to try to figure it out. And I am too emotionally exhausted to keep jumping from one doctor to the next in my desperate pursuit to figure it out. Might I be willing to go through this all again in the future? Sure. But, why should I hold myself hostage to infertility treatments when I believe there is a baby out there that God means to make mine? I have grieved the loss of a pregnancy I will never have. I have come to terms with it, I have made my peace, why turn back now? Aunt Flo is on her current monthly visit and this is the first time in a long, long, long time that I have not tried to second guess the spotting (oh, it might be implantation bleeding this time – it’s never implantation bleeding!) I have not wept at the arrival, feeling my hopes being dashed and my heart be ravaged by the disappointment. This month, I didn’t mourn the baby I thought I would be elated to meet in 9 months. I did not obsess over when I might be fertile and force us to have sex like baby-making drones. I didn’t try to figure out my potential due date or start picking out baby names. This month, I accepted my period as I had what seems like eons before I started trying to conceive, with a groan that Aunt Flo was here, slap on a pad, swallow some Tylenol for the cramps, and get on with life! I am concentrating on the baby I am expecting through adoption, the baby I already love before I even know him/her, the baby that will make our family feel more complete. I am no longer hanging desperately onto a hope that nearly kills me month after month after month. I need to be whole for the baby God plans to send my way and if I am dwelling in the place of hurt, in the place of desperation, in the place of “Why not me?!”  - I cannot be dedicating myself to the baby we are expecting. I don’t know if I make any sense and I don’t know if anyone else has ever felt this way about adoption vs. infertility treatments, but I created this blog to help me navigate this desolate land of infertility. This is where I am today, this is where my journey has brought me. And as crazy as it sounds, I find it so much easier to believe that God will deliver our baby to us through adoption that I do to believe He will give us a biological baby. I’m not sure why that is, but I know my faith in God guiding us through adoption to meet the baby He has created for us is so much stronger and greater than I ever felt dealing with infertility. Maybe that’s a sign. Although, I am leery of signs because they too brought false hope in infertility, this feels legit to me. So, we soldier on into another world unknown, taking every day one tiny step at a time. The end of the dream, no matter how achieved, is equally as beautiful – a baby in my arms.  

Little Pieces

     It’s the little things that get me; the small occurrences that sometimes cut me to the bone and leave me aching, longing, hurting. Last week there had been a few of these occurrences. One happened Tuesday night. Nearly every Tuesday night I attend a success meeting for my Mary Kay business. This past Tuesday night there was a new consultant attending, who happens to be pregnant. As the director was explaining a challenge for us consultants to achieve (that is to sell 10 sets of the Satin Hands), New Consultant made a face and the director thought it was about the challenge. Nope. New Consultant explained that she made a face because the baby just started kicking and she/he was stuck up under her ribs and it took her breath away. A small kick. A huge reminder of the miracle New Consultant is blessed to be experiencing. I felt a burning behind my eyes and my stomach clenched in anguish. I stared at my trembling hands, taking deep breaths, hoping no one saw the tears gathering in my eyes.    
     Last Thursday at work I received the electronic edition of our monthly Employee Bulletin Board, which usually showcases 4-5 new items for employees around the state. The last one on the list was Text4Baby: Information for New and Expecting Mothers. I wondered to myself if “expecting” mothers might be extended to include a mother expecting a baby/child through adoption. So, I foolishly clicked on the link. The link explained that this is for new or expecting mothers to get information on newborn care and healthy pregnancy. It can be timed according to your due date. I guess adopting mothers don’t have to worry about their baby’s nutrition or prenatal care. It reminded me that right now, my baby is in the care of another person; someone who might not be willing or able to care for him/her in the way I would want. I said a quick prayer that whoever the biological mother of my baby is, that she is taking precautions to care for the precious life of a baby that will be ours.    
   One night last week Flaco and I were laying facing one another in bed, chatting and dozing off. Flaco scooted over leaving space between us and then he said, “Can you imagine having a baby laying here between us?” The imagery touched my heart and I knew that Flaco has been dreaming and imagining what it will be like to finally have our baby, just like I have been doing. We could both see this precious baby in our lives, although he/she remains intangible right now. It was such a poignant moment, one that both makes me hopeful and leaves me feeling so despondent.      
     I have nearly all of the paperwork filled out, I just need some clarification from the adoption agency. I called and left a message for Consuelo last Friday and also sent her an email with all the questions I have. She returned my call and left two messages for me on my cell phone on Wednesday, but was out of the office yesterday. I plan to call her today to ask those questions and I hope we can move this along. Flaco and I will attend the trainings in August and September and hopefully all of the clearances will come through by then. I don’t know how quickly a baby will be placed with us, I just keep praying that God will send us the child He meant us to have. 

Bunk Beds

     So, yesterday I told my parents that Flaco and I are going to adopt. They were supportive of this decision. My mother’s initial response was, “You’d better get bunk beds because the second you adopt, you’ll wind up pregnant.” This was not the first time my declaration of our intent to adopt resulted in the “well maybe that will get you pregnant” response. Why is that? And everyone has an anecdotal example, “You know, like Paul and his wife. They tried for years and then adopted two little girls from Korea and wound up pregnant.” That was my mother’s example. Hell, I even have my own example. The wife of my former youth pastor was adopted. Her parents believed they could not have children, but she was still an infant when they found out they were pregnant with her sister. This wasn’t a fluke because they went on to have another daughter (the funny thing is that the middle sister looks like the adopted one because she has red hair, the youth pastor’s wife and her younger sister look like they are biological sisters).            So why do people assume that adopting a child will result in a pregnancy? Is it because the pressure the couple feels to procreate is relieved? Is it because the couple is too distracted with the new addition to worry and fret about infertility (which harkens back to the “just relax and it will happen” school of thought). Is it because everyone can think of an example of a childless couple adopting and then miraculously becoming pregnant? Does God decide to bless couples who choose to adopt with a child of their own? Who knows. I tell anyone who suggests adoption could be the way for us to resolve our infertility that I cannot think this way, it is too hurtful and quite frankly, I don’t think it’s fair to the child that we will adopt. “Mommy, why did you decide to adopt me?” “Well, Little Johnny, we wanted a baby of our own and someone suggested if we adopt we would have our very own biological baby.” I say it is too painful because I feel like I need to completely cut ties from trying to conceive to adopting. These two things can not mutually exist in my mind and in my life. I have been struggling with the experiences that I perceive to be losing, in not being able to give birth to the child that will be mine. If I hang on to the hope that adoption will result in gaining those experiences, I am doing a disservice to myself and to the child. My heart is not in the right place, if my mind is only thinking that I will get what I want most of all, if only I do this one thing. My mindset must change to come to the full understanding that adoption is the way I will become a mother; not the second best way, not the only option way, but rather just the way it is to be. 

Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde

     I feel very much like there are two people who have decided on an uneasy  co-habitation within my heart and brain. As I struggle to fill out the adoption paperwork, I am bombarded with feelings of elation and desperation all at once. I try to focus more on the positive thoughts, rather than the disappointing ones, but sometimes the Hyde pops out and dashes away all the feelings of goodness Jekyll clings to.
     Dr. Jekyll – I am excited to be beginning this journey of adoption. I know that Flaco and I will be good parents and I am anxious to get a chance to prove it. I am thankful that the Lord, working in the mysterious ways He is so fond of, saw fit to soften Flaco’s heart to the idea of adoption, since he had been so utterly opposed. I am grateful there is a way we can adopt that will not cause us vast amounts of money and I am glad I work with someone who is going through this process, blazing a trail ahead for us. Before, I would daydream about bringing our newborn home from the hospital, when now I dream about accepting a baby or toddler into our household. I think about how quickly we will need to buy a crib and other accessories for our child and I have already “window” shopped online for baby/toddler clothes. I imagine our first day with a child we will finally call our own and I wonder if we should stay home or plan activities. Mentally, I have already made a list of the things we will need to move, change, or get rid of once there is a child living in our home. I visualize the dogs and cats adjusting to a baby pulling on their ears and tails and utterly terrorizing them. I have imagined myself washing and folding baby clothes. I wonder how on earth I will know what size diapers to buy and think perhaps I would like to use cloth versus disposable. I think that I need to get a baby bullet food processor (they have infomercials for these things) to make my own healthy baby food using organic veggies from the farm. I imagine putting a car seat in the back of my car and wonder if we will need a stroller. These are not new things I think about – I’ve thought about them before, but under a different context. Before, we were starting from scratch, from 0 hour with a child we conceived. Now, my mind is spinning with the possibilities of having a child that could potentially be a few years old, already walking and talking. I think about finding a daycare for the two weekdays Flaco will not be home to watch the baby (I say baby, but to me this encompasses up to at least age 3). I am excited by the possibility that motherhood is but a few months (and lots of paperwork) away. I can already picture myself finger painting and making blueberry pancakes, taking walks and visiting the farm with my baby. I imagine going grocery shopping with a baby, going to the playground, taking the baby to the Farm Show in January, I think about getting a family picture taken and snapping candid shots during Christmas and other holidays. In my minds eye I can see me feeding the baby breakfast and gently waking Flaco to take care of him/her as I head out to work. I think about me and the baby greeting Flaco with a big hug and kiss when he comes home from work at night. I think of how wonderful our lives will be with our own child. And I want to cry happy tears of joy.
     Ms. Hyde – I get new little snippets of things that we will be missing each and every day. They drop into my mind like bombs of napalm, searing everything in their path. Yesterday, I was at a pregnant friends house and I was asking her to be a referral for me and Flaco in this adoption process. This is the first time I have seen her with the baby bump and I must say it was hard to look at; right there in my face were all my inadequacies, all the tears and sorrow of two and a half years. She said how she always thought about adopting, after working at a daycare for several years after high school. She thought it would be  a nice idea, yet here she is with her growing belly all up in my face. Then she proceeded to tell me how wonderful this is, how great that we’ve decided to adopt, ad nauseum. It’s hard to hear how happy she is for us, considering she only had to try for five months before Wham-o! She’s preggo and it’s in there. I told her how sad I was to know I would not get to experience exactly what she is going through at the moment. I wanted to punch her when she said, “Well, at least you will get a child.” Which I translated into infertility speak to mean, “Poor dumb schmucks, this is the best you can hope for because your baby-making factory is busted.” I looked at her protruding belly and felt the tears stinging behind my eyes. Other than getting fatter, my belly will not bulge. Flaco will not rub my tummy and whisper to our growing baby that he loves him/her. Pregnant friend mentioned something to her friends about taking prenatal vitamins and some asked why she was still taking them. She turned to me and asked, “But you can take them even before you get pregnant too, right?” I nodded, but my snarky mental response was, “Hell, I’ve been taking the dam things for over two and a half years, so yea you can take them before you get pregnant.” For whatever reason, today the thought popped into my head about a book many expectant mothers rush out to buy when they first discover they are with child. “What to Expect when You’re Expecting,” is not a book I will ever need to read. I did wonder if anyone has ever written a book like, “What to Expect when You’re Adopting.”  Maybe not. Back over two years ago, I purchased a book that a pregnant mother writes to her baby as he/she grows inside the womb. After a year and a half, I tucked it away where I would not stumble across it inadvertently. Now, I am thinking that I will not need it and perhaps I should send it along with the two bags of clothes I plan to donate to the Goodwill. Maybe I can find a similar book for adopting mothers. Pregnant friend had baby magazines on her coffee table and a Target baby registry as well. Do adopting parents make baby registries? We don’t even know what age our child will be, so that doesn’t make much sense. When my mom was pregnant with me, my parents were building their home, the one they still live in. The first picture in my photo album is of my very pregnant mother, standing in front of the frame of the house with a T-shirt that says, “Under Construction.” I think it’s the cutest dam thing. I can’t think of anything witty to put on a T-shirt for a mother adopting a baby. “Knocked up? I have an ap for that.” Not as cute. I wonder if our child’s birth mother would give us baby pictures, so we can show the baby what they looked like as a newborn? As I began writing my autobiography, I thought to myself, “What can I say about myself that will convince someone to give me a baby? What are the qualifications for motherhood?” Pregnant friend also told me her sister, a former crack-addict now in recovery, is pregnant with her fourth child with a fourth different man. I mentally counted to 10 before I asked, “On purpose or accidentally?” To which my friend responded, “Well it’s not like she doesn’t know how it’s done.” I know how it’s done, but that doesn’t mean I can get pregnant. Just another example of life’s little injustices.

     I pray to God that this adoption process is not as emotionally taxing as the trying to conceive process has been. I pray that He might make a way for us, so that we might quickly find the child He intends us to have; the one He has made just for us. The paperwork I am filling out scares me a bit because it asks about how we will work with a child with special needs, but my friend assured me the definition of “special needs” is pretty broad for the state and might just be a child of mixed race. Flaco and I have no preference when it comes to the race of our child. In fact, we would love to find a child that is Hispanic/Caucasian because that is what we are (to split hairs, Hispanic does not describe a “race” but rather a “culture” but regardless, that is how we identify ourselves).               

The New Waiting Game

I have been experiencing some technical difficulties with my blog lately. Wednesday night I typed up a new entry and when I tried to post it, the “Internet-Explorer-webpage-has-expired” popped up and I lost all that I had written. Also, I cannot make a comment on a post either. When I try to post it, it takes me to the log-in page. I type in my credentials and the secret code and it takes me back to the page to type in my credentials again. After losing my entire post the other night, I gave up and went to bed.

     The following is my response to Amy’s comment:
"Amy - You are in no way being an ass by your response. In fact, you have been one of my most staunch supporters since the beginning, for which I am thankful. Experiencing the loss of a pregnancy is never easy, no matter how many living children you have; it is something that cuts deep and it is an ache that never fully leaves. Whenever I am feeling the most down, I remind myself that I have never felt the elation of a pregnancy only to then experience the immense sorrow when that pregnancy ends in a miscarriage. So, in that respect, I cannot fully understand the loss you have experienced. I think right now, I am just mourning the loss of never experiencing pregnancy; I won't feel a baby growing in my womb, I won't get to hear the first heartbeat or feel the first kick, I won't know the pain of labor (not such a bad thing, I suppose) and I will never nourish my child by breast feeding him/her. This is not to say I will not cherish the child that will be mine through adoption. And I am not saying that one is better or worse than the other. It is just very hard to let go of a dream I have been dreaming ever since I was a little girl playing dress-up and shoving a pair of pants in my shirt to make me look pregnant. Flaco and I will miss out on so much, not being able to experience the journey of pregnancy. We will not be taking baby bump pictures and posting them on our Facebook accounts. There will be no ultrasound pictures to show the expecting grandparents. If we have a baby shower, I will not be waddling in with my bulging belly for all to oo and ahh over. No one will be trying to see if it looks like I am carrying a boy or a girl. There will be no birth announcement, no hospital visits. The baby we have will not look like his/her mommy or daddy or have the “So-and-So” family legs/eyes/nose/smile what-have-you. I guess what I am trying to say, is that I envy anyone who has a child that will resemble them, one that is a combination of the love of their mother and father. But, I realize that no one has a perfect journey, no matter how it looks to the outside world. I try not to compare myself to others because I am different and my experiences are different. Thank you for your kind words as always. Know that you too are in my prayers.    

     So, Wednesday I finally spoke to the woman from the local state adoption agency. I decided to call her on my lunch break, since I needed to leave work to buy lunch at the local Wawa. Generally, I pack a lunch and eat in the staff lunchroom with other coworkers, which does not lend to having private phone conversations. So, I spoke with Consuelo. She sounds younger than I thought she would be, but she was very nice and professional. She explained that we would need to attend several training classes, which (of course) had just wrapped up last week. The next time they will be holding these classes will be in August. The classes are held on Saturdays (every other week, I think she said) and we can choose to attend in English or Spanish. We both must attend. This will be a problem for Flaco, since he works every Saturday and has a very hard time getting off. I guess we will cross that bridge when we get there. Consuelo went on the explain that while we wait to get into the training classes we can complete the required paperwork, such as the initial application, the medical requirements, financial eligibility paperwork and she can even come out and do a walk-through of our home all before August. She explained all of the paperwork that is required. They want to see the past 10 years of our income. Well, 10 years ago Flaco was 15 and living in Nicaragua. Ten years ago, I was just finishing my first year of college and worked part-time in the summer as a waitress. I did tell her Flaco has only been in the country for 4 ½ years and she said that is not a problem. They want to see the immunization records for all the animals in the home (which I am sure will dredge up the on-going “let’s get rid of the animals” battle), which I know we are lackadaisical on keeping the animals up-to-date. In fact, the kitten has never been to the vet (he’s a year old now) and the last time the older cat was there was when she was fixed about three years ago. Again, we shall cross that bridge when we get there. Our animals are healthy. I guess we shall see what the out-come will be. Consuelo explained what she would be looking for when she did the walk-through of our home (I’m thinking this is the home study, but she didn’t call it that, so I am not sure). We would need to show her where the child would sleep and keep their things. We would need to lock up medications (I’m on Metformin, but other than that we only have vitamins and over-the-counter drugs which we generally keep in a medicine cabinet above the sink in the bathroom. It is unlikely a toddler would be able to reach them, but we shall lock them up, if need be) and baby-proof the house in general. Since, it is just the two of us living there, the house is anything but baby-proof. We would need to get the covers for the electric sockets and put the batteries back in the smoke detectors (the one in our spare bedroom goes off any time something smokes or there is steam in the kitchen, which I found highly obnoxious). And apparently, we need to get a fire extinguisher in our kitchen. Really? I don’t even know where the hell we would get a fire extinguisher! Who sells these things? Fire Bugs Are Us? I’m sure it will cost a small fortune to get a mini fire extinguisher. I don’t even know how to use one, if there ever was a need. But, I guess we will get one, since it is required.
     I understand why the agency needs this information and requires all of these precautions. I know it is for the protection of the child, but it seems like just another slap in the face to a couple already faced with the insurmountable grief of not being able to procreate. We lost our bodily privacy to meddling infertility doctors and now we must fling open the doors to our private life for some strangers to poke into all the crevices. Like hearing the dentist’s drill, I find this intrusive process grates on my nerves.
     Consuelo also explained that since we want to adopt (and not just be foster parents) we will need to write up a profile, which she explained was “basically your whole life story.” My whole life? You mean, from my first memory of getting my tonsils out at age 4 up until this very moment, sitting here typing this story? Does it really matter that I was in 4-H and homeschooled in high school? Does being the 1999 PA State Lamb and Wool Queen make me a better candidate as a mother? Did going to college and then joining the Peace Corps better prepare me for motherhood? And what about Flaco? Few Americans can truly understand what it is like to grow up in a developing nation. How will they relate to his experiences walking to the local school and playing soccer barefoot in a dusty field? Or quitting school to help his father in the fields and then moving to Managua at age 15 to work with his cousins in a school supply stand at the country’s largest market? Who will understand the devastation he witnessed during Hurricane Mitch in 1998? I hate answering the “tell me about yourself” question because I never know what they are trying to find out. It seems like a large minefield in which if you say too little, you are hiding something, and if you say too much you have revealed something disadvantageous about yourself. Perhaps, Consuelo will have guidelines in what we should include in our life stories. She also mentioned we will need to get about 4 references to write something nice about us and why we deserve a baby.
     I feel overwhelmed by all of this paperwork and I haven’t even started filling it out yet! I mean, wouldn’t it just be easier to bump nasties and get knocked up the good old fashioned way? Sure, but that is no longer an option for us. We’ve defined insanity by trying the same thing over and over and over again for the past 2 ½ years. It’s time for a completely new game plan. I don’t relish sloshing through this process, in fact I think I already dread it. But, for some reason, this is how God intended for Flaco and I to have a family. It is a trial by fire that we must live through so we can come out as beautiful diamonds in the end. So, Consuelo is sending us a packet of information and also the forms we will need to begin filling out. I say, “Bring it on!” Whatever will get us closer to the baby out there that God intends to place in our lives.   

Decision vs. The Only Option

      Last night I was talking to a fellow infertile friend (sometimes she seems like the only infertile friend, since everyone else is pregnant or has had a baby). We were talking about our decision to adopt and she said her and her husband are thinking about starting the process next year. She said she is so scared to even contact an agency to get started. Her fear hit me like a ton of bricks, crashing into the fortress I had built around my heart. I realized, yes, it is scary. And I’m scared. I am scared that it will happen and I am scared that it will not happen. I fear entrusting our child to someone else for the beginning of their life (before the child becomes ours). I fear the entangling web of bureaucracy  in the adoption system and I fear the poking and prodding into our lives (although, we are used to this, thanks to fighting our way through the immigration process!). I’m terrified of finding a child we love, only to have something go wrong and lose the child we already loved. After two and a half years of the never-ending cycle of hoping and believing in my heart of hearts that this was going to be our month to get pregnant only to be severely disappointed every single month, I am emotionally raw. I don’t know if my heart can handle anymore loss. I am scared, but I’m going to do it anyway.
     Yesterday I discovered there is an open house event next week at a local adoption agency. I want to attend, however Flaco will be working and he cannot go along with me. I don’t want to go by myself, but I feel like I need to explore all of my options before we decide on an agency. This is a big decision. It feels even bigger than the decision we made to start trying to have a baby. This process also seems more convoluted and I fear getting frustrated enough to give up altogether. Flaco and I have not discussed telling our families, but I think we should drop the bomb on them sooner rather than later. I hope they will all accept and respect our decision, but it makes no difference in what we have decided.
     A friend posted on my blog that she and her husband have considered adopting. They have a beautiful son together. I applaud their decision, however, I couldn’t help but think about it in terms of my own situation. They have a buffet of baby-making options open to them. They can reproduce on their own, without interference from prodding medical staff. They can decide to adopt. We on the other hand, have limited options. We can only choose from the value menu. Having a biologically baby would involve intensive and invasive treatments, not to mention lots of $$$$$. While adoption is still a decision, it also feels like the only option we have. Growing up, I always thought I wanted to adopt. My heart aches for all of the beautiful children out there all over the world, who do not have a loving mother and father. They do not have the safety of a home to call their own. They are tossed about and shoved around, sometimes in less-than ideal conditions. I thought it would be a good thing to help at least one of these precious children by opening my heart and my home to accept them. I thought I would have a few of my own kids and then once they are off to school, I would adopt to fill the empty nest. Never did I think adoption would be the only viable option to having a family. Never did I think adoption would go from being a decision to the only way possible.
     I am still at peace with our decision and I have accepted our lot in this Russian Roulette of infertility. Just sometimes a tiny part of me still feels jealous of all the dam fertile people out there. Sometimes I remember the dream I had so vividly of the children I would birth and then, like in the Titanic movie when Rose shoved a dead Jack off the hunk of floating wood to save her own life, I whisper, “I’ll never let go” and let my dreams slowly sink into the inky depths. I must now recreate a new dream. The beginning is not what I had in mind, but the ending is still fabulous. I just need to hang onto the beautiful ending.  

New Journey

     Flaco announced this morning that he has decided he would like to move forward with adoption. I am both happy and sad, relieved and terrified, excited and disappointed. There are so many emotions! Flaco said we can start looking right away, so I am going to contact the woman who my friend from work suggested. I am fairly certain we are going to use the state agency, but I am also checking out some other options. I've looked at possible funding options for private adoption and would consider applying for financial aid. I dread the home study and the poking and prodding at our lives and our motives, but it can't be any worse than the testing and waiting and hormonal medication I have endured with infertility treatments.
     I don't know if anyone else has gone this route and how they felt when they decided to give up on forcing broken parts to reproduce, but is it normal to feel so happy and disappointed at the same time? I am excited about being a mother, about welcoming our baby home. But, I am sad to have to miss out on the steps most mothers go through when having a baby. I won't be getting ultrasounds and listening to a heartbeat. There won't be any birthing classes or visiting of birthing centers. But, we will experience the joy of caring for our special little one, sharing our lives and teaching him/her all that we know. This is not the way I would have chosen things to go, but I am content with the decision we have made. I am ready to move forward. But, I am also very open to advice! What has worked for others and what pitfalls would you suggest we avoid?

At a Strange place

     On Memorial Day Flaco and I went out to a restaurant we haven't been to before. It was nice. While there we began talking about my favorite topic and Flaco's least favorite - our infertility woes. I mentioned to Flaco that I was thinking I am ready to try the doctor where my mom works, to see what other torture, er I mean tests, he can perform to determine what is preventing me from getting pregnant. After all, I have ovulated on more than one occasion and I have never once gotten even a little pregnant (it's a joke. . . ). So, this leads me to believe there is something else going on, that the infertility doctor did not feel like exploring, he would rather we jump straight to IVF. It looks better for his stats, I suppose. Flaco reiterated that he did not want to spend tons of money on infertility treatments. He then proceeded to tell me that he is disillusioned and no longer even cares about having a baby. He thinks we should just get on with our lives. I was somewhat frustrated and so I told him that I cannot accept not being a mother. I am a mother, in my heart, even if I have no children to be a mother to, at the present time. I said I could accept not pursuing infertility treatments, if only he would consider adopting.
     Whenever I brought up adoption in the past, Flaco immediately shot me down. No second thoughts, nothing. Just a big fat no. Well, on Monday he was more pensive. He told me how he had met this woman (a friend of a friend or the wife of a friend of a friend - something like that) and she adopted a little girl, then later adopted a little boy and discovered that they were brother and sister. He thought this was nice. He said he might consider adoption, since he also discovered that the government gives you a nice chunk of change the year that you adopt. For whatever reason, this made adoption more appealing to Flaco. I did tell him that if we wanted an infant we might have to use a private adoption agency and that they are expensive. But, if we used the state adoption agency, or we became foster parents first, that the state would cover the adoption costs.
     I spoke with a friend at work who is in the process of adopting a little girl. She has three biological sons and had been a foster parent for 8 years. She gave me the name of the woman she has worked with, who happens to be bilingual (as is my friend and her husband). Flaco had asked for a week to make his decision and I do not want to push him. His week will be up on Monday. If he decides he would be willing to go ahead with the adoption process, then I will call Consuelo, the name of the Social Worker that my friend gave me.
     I thought I might feel sad, deciding to adopt rather than having a biological child. Oddly, I feel at peace. I know that there are many children out there who need good families and I believe Flaco and I can be that good family. I spent some time looking at pictures of waiting children on the states website. They are beautiful children and without knowing them, I love them all and want them all to have loving homes. Flaco and I are not picky about the sex of our child or the race. The only things we are concerned about are the age (we know we might not get an infant, but we wouldn't want a child over 5) and the health of the child. We do not feel we could financially care for a child with severe disabilities.
     So, this is a strange place to be in right now. Part of me feels relieved. The pressure to conceive is off and the weight of my empty womb has lessened. I know my child will not have my smile or Flaco's laugh, but he or she will still be so loved and so wanted. My desire for a child is the one thing that infertility has not been able to break. I know the adoption process might be difficult and there might still be more cycles of frustration, but our struggles up to this point have made us stronger in the face of adversity. Am I sad to think I might never get pregnant and give birth? Yes. I am. But, I know that when I have my baby, my child, in my arms and I am reading him/her a bedtime story and soothing her/him to sleep after a bad nightmare. Or laughing at their silly joke. When we take our child to visit Flaco's family in Nicaragua, when we spend Christmas at the farm and sing Christmas carols all the way home - it won't matter! It simply will not matter. We will have our beautiful family.
     I brought this topic up to Flaco again last night. Not to get his decision, but to let him know what I discovered from my friend at work. Flaco still seemed open to the idea of adoption. He asked if we could adopt two children, maybe siblings. I told him that we should take this one step at a time and just worry about adopting one child and then once we are settled, we can talk about adopting a second child (we are both determined to not have an only child. Ideally, we wanted four children, but not that infertility has put a damper on that parade, we are hoping for at least two).
     A little tiny part of me feels like a cop-out. Like we didn't try hard enough to get pregnant. But, we simply don't have the resources to go through treatment after treatment after treatment. Believe me, I know we would have if we could. Another part of me worries about how Flaco's family will accept an adopted child. Well, and my family too. We haven't said anything to either of them yet. Mostly, because we don't know what we are going to do yet. But, I hope they will support us in this decision. When I made mention of this to my mother in the past (that I just wanted to give up and adopt), she said, "Don't give up! There is still so much more that you haven't tried!" I already mentioned to her about seeing the doctor where she works. But, now I'm wondering if this isn't just the way God wanted it to be for us. Perhaps He never intended for us to have biological children because He knows how many children out there need parents. When I first thought of adoption, I thought that maybe I was being like Abraham's wife Sarah. That I was trying to circumvent waiting for God by creating my own way. Sarah gave her handmaiden to Abraham to bear children because she could not. Even though, God had promised her she would bear a child. But, now I think that God has actually been nudging us towards adoption and He opened Floco's heart to the possibility. I guess the only way I'll know is to give it a whirl.