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.