Monthly Archives: October 2013

To Know or Not To Know?

Sometimes I have what seems like a hundred ideas for blog posts floating around in my head, but when I find a spare minute to write some of those thoughts down, I can’t find the right words. 

This topic has been weighing on my heart and my mind for some time now. I thought that maybe writing it all out would help lessen the blow. 

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

I’m truly thankful for moving along in the adoption process and I’m looking forward to finally becoming a mother to a special and amazing little boy or girl in this way; however, I find myself dealing with anger issues surrounding my infertility. 

We know what my underlying issues are: PCOS, LPD, hypothyroidism. I take medicines to balance my hormones and keep everything in check. I followed my doctor’s instructions perfectly. We cycled and cycled and cycled some more. Our embryos were of the highest grade during IVF. We had an almost 100% fertilization rate. We did all the shots to help support a pregnancy. We endured the pain in every form. We got to beta day countless times and were disappointed each and every time. My nurse had to break the news for years that our babies decided not to stick around and that she was so sorry.  We listened to our RE offer up possible reasons for our constant failures. We were told to try again. We were told that another cycle may work. We were also told that it may not. 

So here is the question that I’ve been asking myself over and over again for the past two months – Is it better to know why I’m not getting/staying pregnant or is it better to live in the dark so to speak? It’s hard to hear over and over again that the reason for our miscarriages and lack of success with IUI, IVF, and FET is unexplained. Maybe that’s why I’m so angry – because there’s no logical and obvious reason why I’m not holding a baby in my arms today. Again I ask – “Where is that crystal ball with all the answers?”

Honestly, even if I did know what the true underlying problem was, I’m not quite sure that I would feel a sense of relief. A sense of finality. I’m not sure that the feelings of wanting to feel my baby kick and move from inside me will ever truly go away. I know that with time these emotions will start to subside and not always be at the forefront of my heart and mind. 

I hope that one day I feel at peace with our decision to stop trying to conceive a biological child. I know my heart has room to love an adopted child. I know this because there’s room in there to love children of friends, love students I’ve taught in the past, and love others in general. However, I do think there will always be a small space in my heart that can never be filled. There will always be a space for that child made up of our DNA who lives only in my mind and in my dreams. 

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Another October 15th rolls around and I’m still mourning the loss of my babies. I still don’t have a baby in my arms. All I know right now is loss and the pain still feels like it’s fresh some days – especially on a day like today.

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. A day to remember that miscarriages are more common than you think. A day to spread awareness that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage – what a staggering and extremely sad statistic. Today I remember my babies as well as the babies of family and friends who have gone too soon. You may not be with us here, but we’ll always hold you in our hearts. Today I remember those friends who have recently experienced a miscarriage. I remember how tough it was and still is. It’s a pain that you’ll never forget and I hate that you’ve become a statistic. Please never feel like you have to hide your grief or suffer in silence. I’m here to offer support. To offer love. To offer hugs from afar.

If you’re so inclined, please join me in remembering all the babies who have gone too soon by lighting a candle at 7PM to create a Wave of Light.

The Next Chapter

This post has been sitting as a draft for weeks now. Every time I go back to it, I delete what I’ve written previously and start over. The words are never right. My emotions scare me. Taking the next step means that we have to put a whole entire part of our lives behind us.

Today I’m determined to finish this post. To hit the publish button. To make myself move forward. To begin leaving the sad and angry feelings behind me. To look forward to making our happy ending happen.

It’s been almost five weeks exactly since we found out that our last ditch effort at having a biological child was a complete and utter failure. In the past almost five weeks, I’ve been angry, sad, resentful, and bitter. However, I’ve also been hopeful. Hopeful that adoption may bring us the child that we’re been longing for for the past six years.

After a week of keeping to myself, eating way too many pieces of chocolate, and generally being angry at the universe, we decided to start researching and contacting different adoption agencies. We knew what our budget would be, knew that we had to find an agency who would be willing to work with us in our current location as well as our future location, and knew that we wanted an agency that would treat us well as well as provide exceptional support and assistance to their expectant/birth mothers and fathers.

As I checked out multiple agency websites, I found out that choosing an agency was going to be a challenge. After finding several agencies that might be a good fit for us, I sent out emails to their coordinators. Some agencies emailed back. Some didn’t. Some wouldn’t work with us until after we moved in seven months. Some didn’t fit our budget.

The agencies that met our criteria through information we found on their websites and through information provided in return emails made it to the next round. The phone interview. We spoke to three agencies on the phone. We were impressed with two. The other one seemed like they were trying to sell themselves to us a little too much. Their contract terms also rubbed as the wrong way. In the end, we went with our gut and selected the first agency that we interviewed.

This agency has an office about an hour away from us and also has social workers who will be available to work with us once we move in the spring. Since our home study will hopefully be completed a few months before we leave, we’ll only have to do an update once we get settled into our new home. All of the employees we’ve had contact with so far have been nothing but professional and prompt in their responses. E’s parents (who are adoptive parents themselves) have several friends who have adopted through this agency and have shared their experiences with us. These stories made us feel even more comfortable with our decision.

Once we made our final decision, we printed off the pages and pages of paperwork that had to be filled out and submitted to the agency. We contacted potential personal references, looked up old addresses (who can remember addresses from 10 years ago off the top of their head?), and signed contracts and policy agreements.

We mailed off our application and the first of many checks to the agency on Monday afternoon. Much to our surprise, the agency contacted us on Wednesday to let us know that our application had been received and was being processed. Last night, my best friend sent me a text stating that she received her reference form and completed it for us that very same day. It seems like the agency is on top of things and is moving things right along for us.

While I was at the gym this morning, our newly assigned social worker left a message about scheduling our first meeting with her. I sent her an email back as soon as I got home, so hopefully we’ll be meeting with her later in the week if she has afternoon availability on Fridays.

This process so far has been exciting, yet scary. I’m excited that things are moving along smoothly so far and hope that things continue to move along nicely. It’s scary though to close the chapter on trying to conceive especially when that’s all I’ve known for the past almost six years. It’s strange not to be planning our next cycle. Not to be stabbing myself with needles every day. Not to have a sliver of hope that this next cycle could give us that child we’ve been hoping for.

Now we have a new path. A new chance to bring home the child who has been waiting for us. I know the journey will be long, but it’ll be worth it in the end.