Update

I hope everyone reading this had a wonderful Christmas. (Or, if you don't celebrate that particular holiday, I hope you had some good time off from work, and did something fun.)

The court date went really well. Of course it was just the last formality, and not much that could really go wrong by that point, but we were nervous, nevertheless. However, our anxiety was unfounded. Everyone in the court was so happy and cheery and everyone was going goo-goo over Baby Boy. Then we were called into the judges chambers, where we were sworn in, and asked a series of questions, such as, "Is it your intention to provide for physically, emotionally, and spiritually for this child?" Yes, it is. "Do you understand that once the adoption is finalized, this child will be as if he were your natural-born child under the law?" Yes. "Is this what you want?" Yes! (I am seriously paraphrasing by the way, I'm sure I'm not getting the wording exactly right, but you get the gist.) Of course Mister and I were holding back some tears at one point during the proceedings. We are so happy to be at the point where we are fully recognized as his parents, once and for all. Even though we have been his mommy and daddy in our hearts from day one, it is a nice feeling to be legally mom and dad, instead of "temporary legal guardian." After we were all done, the judge posed for a few quick photos with us, and then they gave BB a teddy bear. So nice.

The rest of the week was a bit hectic. I had to go to the Flower Market to pick something up for a client on Friday morning. I had to bring BB since we are still sans childcare, as the nanny is no longer available due to debilitating morning sickness from her pregnancy (sigh) and we have been having a hard time finding a day care situation that is accepting infants. Anyway, first to the flower market, and then to the OB for an urgent appointment to figure out what some strange bleeding I was having was all about. (Apparently nothing--caused by the Clo.mid thinning out my lining from my last period, causing it to oxidize and come out, well, really dark.) But, nothing like getting the vag checked when you have no one to watch your baby. By the time I got done with those 'errands' BB was so far off his schedule that he was going ballistic. The rest of the day was a bit rough with a very cranky baby. He's also getting molars, and was then, and is, still, dealing with a bad cold. So, to be nice, my husband brought home some leftover steak sandwich from his lunch and heated up for me, and poured me a glass of wine as soon as he got home from work. UNFORTUNATELY that lovely steak sandwich gave me THE WORST case of food poisoning. Meaning, I woke up in the middle of the night and had it coming out both ends for the next 8-9 hours. Needless to say, I was totally out of it all day Saturday. We were supposed to go to Mister's parents house in the country on Saturday, but I couldn't move. I still felt nauseous, I felt like I had been severely kicked in the kidneys, and I was getting the chills on and off all day. So, we went out to Lodi (where Mister's parents live) on Sunday morning instead, but had to leave bright and frickin' early, because we had to be there by 10:00 a.m. to meet the family at church so we could stand up as god parents for Mister's niece (13 months) whom Mister's sister (who was visiting for Christmas) was having baptised at their parents' church.

From there through Christmas was a blur, as we were splitting up our time between Mister's family in Lodi and my family in San Jose. We had a lot of fun visiting with everyone, but I was very happy to get home the day after Christmas. Since then, I've been dealing with an increasingly sick and irritable baby. (Teething, cold-that-won't-die). We will be going to the Dr. tomorrow just so I can rule out anything above and beyond cold and teething issues (like an ear infection, etc.).

So, that's why I've been off the radar, but I have been checking in on you guys when I can and thinking of all my bloggie friends and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday. I hope that all our dreams will come true in 2008.

Some Good News

Just got a call from our adoption attorney's office, and it looks like we have our court date set! December 20th~which is exciting not only because we'll get to finalize in 2007, but also because it will be Baby Boy's 9-month-birthday that day! How nice! And, we'll have another Holiday to celebrate in December from here on out: "Happy Adoption Day!"

It's All Over But the Cryin'

So I tested. It was negative, of course. Would love to hop on the wagon for IUI #2 but my O will most likely end up right on Christmas Eve or thereabouts. Not gonna work since we'll be with family and out of town. So I guess we'll be taking a forced month off. Gotta love the Holidays.

I guess this means I get to have a glass of wine tonight.

Dream a Little Dream

Last year, after my miscarriage, and after hearing from a doctor that "I would never have biological children," I went into a deep, deep depression. I was completely inconsolable. I wavered between being insanely angry at God, and deciding that there was no God, and that everything was random. And crazily unfair. The depression lasted for many many months. And there were times when, as I tried to fall asleep at night, I prayed desperately for God to take me in the night, so that I wouldn't have to wake up to face another day. The pain was just too great. And no amount of medication, therapy or prayer seemed to take it away.

Then one night, I had a dream.

Now, I am not a big "dream-analyzer." I rarely remember my dreams with any real clarity, and couldn't even tell you if I dreamt about anything at all last night (though I'm sure I did). But this dream was different. This dream was so vivid, and clear that it altered me. It was a very simple dream that didn't last very long, but it was powerful. It consisted of this: In my dream, I held a baby. I could feel the baby's warmth against my chest, I could feel the weight of the baby in my arms. I could hear the light breathing of the child, and could smell the "baby" smell that is so intoxicating. My heart was so full of love, I thought it would burst. And in the dream, I said one simple thing. "Thank you God, for this gift." And that was it. The dream was over. In the morning I awoke with this vision in my mind, and I knew, somehow, sometime, a baby would come to me. I would be a mother. I didn't know if it would be through pregnancy or an adoption, but the love I felt was so intense that I just couldn't wait to meet this baby. This dream had been so realistic, activating every one of my senses, it caused me to believe that somehow, it was more meaningful than just random synapses in my brain trying to work something out. I took it as a message.

Now, I'm not saying that it completely took away my depression. I'm not saying I never doubted the dream in my dark moments. But it was there. So clear, so vivid, and always easy to call upon when I needed to.

It took several months, but eventually, my dream came true. The first time I held Baby Boy in my arms, I knew the dream was being realized. And I did thank God for such a gift.

Today is 12 days pIUI. I have not taken a pregnancy test. Mister and I decided to wait it out. At least until we reach a full 2 weeks past the IUI. I think he and I both want to live in the hope that we feel for as long as it is possible. If I'm not pregnant, and I do a test today, I might be robbing myself and Mister of two more hopeful days. I know this may sound crazy, but after nearly 4 years of trying to conceive, you take what you can get. Sometimes, that is just putting off the disappointment in exchange for two more days of hopefulness.

This past weekend we went to Mister's parents' house in the country. Mister's brother, sister-in-law and their youngest daughter (4 months old) were also visiting from New Orleans, so it was a full house. We had a lot of fun. And, every time my sister in law started talking about pregnancy and childbirth (like, "Every time I'm pregnant, blah, blah, blah..") I was able to soothe myself by saying inwardly, well, I will know what it's like soon. I could even be pregnant right now. So, that's the good thing about being in the two week wait, I guess.

And the last night we were there, I had a dream.

Again, this dream was very vivid. It was very clear in its simplicity. In the dream I held a pregnancy test in my hand. It was not the kind where you see one line if you're not pregnant, and two lines if you are. This test had one window with a great, big, blue (+) sign in it. I held it and stared at the (+) sign for a long time, and my heart filled with joy and excitement. It was so clear and vivid that it woke me up in the middle of the night. And, later that night, after I had fallen back asleep, I had the exact. same. dream. Again.

So, based on previous experience, I am deciding to believe in the dream. I could pooh-pooh it away. I could say it is just my subconscious dealing with all the thinking I am doing about wanting to be pregnant when I am awake. At night, my brain is just sorting through it, and mirroring it back to me. It is not a message, just a reflection of my longing. But no, I choose to believe that, like my other dream, something, someone--God, The Universe, my Higher Self, is trying to send me a message: Have heart. It will happen.

It may not be this cycle. Truth be told, I do not feel pregnant. If anything, I feel a bit like my period will come in a day or two. I have no idea when the dream will happen in real life. But, I am choosing to hold on to the belief, at least for now, that I have it on good authority that it WILL happen.

Adoption Progress, IUI and Other Random Stuff

So we recently received what is (supposedly!) the LAST piece of paperwork we need to fill out for Baby Boy's adoption. And, (supposedly!) after we fill it out we will be getting a court date. We're hoping for a court date in December (if we're darn lucky) so that Baby Boy's adoption will be finalized in 2007--the same year he was born. That would feel really good to us, and would be a great Christmas present for our little family.

As for the IUI. I am 7 days post IUI and I don't feel anything. No sore boobs, no fatigue, no tell-tale pregnancy signs. If anything, I feel like I usually do at this point in my cycle--with Aunt Flo comin' round the bend, in about 5 days. However, I guess it's not over till it's over, so I'm trying to keep positive. I am not scheduled for a blood test or anything, so I guess I'll be peeing on a stick by Monday (12 dpiui). Unless of course, I get my period by Monday.

Today I took Baby Boy to a Gym.boree class. This was very interesting. I think it was a little overwhelming for him. He started crying a shrill, high-pitched cry at one point and I had to take him out of the play area to calm him down. I think we'll give it another try, though--and see if he warms up to it. It is a good way for him to really move around and get some more activity. (Not a lot of space for him to explore in our tiny house!) Speaking of exploring, right now he's ripping up some magazines, so I'd better go.

Bye!

So Well Said

If you haven't already, please hop over to Mel's blog and read this post. I will be emailing it to everyone I know.

Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am

Well, the IUI was so quick! I don't know what I was expecting--like some sort of ritual would ensue after I was inseminated or some such nonsense. I guess there's really not much to it. I swear, from the time I got my feet in the stirrups, to the time the doc was wishing me good luck and heading out the door, had to be, no more than 2 minutes. Tops.

It was about as uncomfortable or painful as I expected. I'm still feeling slightly "twingey" but wouldn't put it in the same category as say, menstrual cramps.

The good news is that Mister's--er, contribution was glorious: plenty of 'em, and fast-moving. So, now I am just envisioning all these rock-star sperm, hanging out with my two Amazonian, Lucy La.wless-type eggs, just having a party in my, um, fertile crescent.

The doc was the same woman as yesterday--not my real RE. But, I guess they have the doc of the day do the simple procedures. Fair enough. Also, I never asked for my bloodwork results. I figured if my FSH was super high, it would bum me out, and I need to be as positive as possible right now. No news is good news at this point.

Here I go into the 2WW!

The Update

So, all went well today with the ultrasound! Righty: one 28mm one 16mm, Lefty: one 25 mm. And, I'm about ready to pop. Doc said that the two 20 somethings are really big--and that the "lil guy" probably won't catch up in time but the big guys are definitely ready to go. I asked if this means I responded well to the Clom.id, and she told me this was really good.

IUI scheduled for tomorrow (Wednesday) at high noon!

Now, I'm just hoping these over-acheiving eggies don't pop out too soon! Hang on guys!!

Nervous

I'm going in for my day 11 ultrasound today, to see what my lil' ovaries are up to. I am very nervous. I'll also be getting the results from my last round of blood work. I am hoping to see ovaries full of ripening follicles!

Appointment is at 2:15--I'll update when I get back!

Thanksgiving

I woke up feeling pretty low today. Truth is, I've been in a bit of a funk these past few days. I guess the nanny pregnancy news hit me pretty hard. It's like I used up all my positive thinking and suck-it-up-ness on my friend Tina's (miracle at 42) pregnancy news. So, the nanny thing came out of nowhere and just hit me upside the head like a sack full of bricks. Also, I think the Clo.mid might be getting to me. Not really sure...

That said, I really DON'T want to feel down today. I love Thanksgiving. I am excited to go to my sister's house today, and visit, and cook, and laugh. I am so happy that this year there is a child in our family to share this holiday with. I love celebrating all BB's "first" things: First Halloween, First Thanksgiving, and, I'm really looking forward to First Christmas.

So, in the spirit of today's holiday, here's what I'm giving thanks for today:
My son. (Hooray!!)
My husband.
My cats.
My dog.
Our home (be it ever soooo humble) :0)
My family.
My health.

and...

YOU. Finding this on-line community of amazing women who are facing the battle of IF, and hearing all your stories, and receiving so much support, has meant the world to me. So, I'm thankful for you.

Past the Lips, and Over the Gums

...look out ovaries, here it comes!

100 mg Clomid, cycle days 2-6.

Took my first dose today.

All aboard for IUI #1.

I Can't Take it Any More

The Nanny is pregnant.

I am not handling this one well.

So much for not caring...I'm trying.

Fertility Aside...

Fertility and procreation, obviously, are not my strong-suits.

But, I have let that rule how I have felt about myself entirely--for too long. When I think about myself, it's all I think about. When I look at myself it is all that I see.

It's time for the evil reign of Infertility to loosen its grip on me.

I have many other gifts. And, have had many other accomplishments in my life (other than bearing children). Here is what I am able to come up with right now. I hope to keep adding to the list.

- I have a way with animals. Don't know why or how exactly, but they seem to be at ease around me.

- I have a beautiful singing voice. (IMHO)

- I'm a pretty darn good cook. (When I feel like it).

- I am a very talented floral designer. I have made hundreds of Brides (among other people) very happy, as a result of my talent. Also, my work has been featured on two wedding-related cable tv shows, and in probably 10 or more magazines.

- I make a mean cocktail.

- I have a quick, and sometimes kooky, sense of humor. I can make people laugh.

- For some reason, my son's birth-mother saw some quality in me (and Mister) that she thought was unique and special and good and real enough to entrust the life of her child--FOREVER--to us.

- I think I am doing a pretty darn good job (so far) of being a mom. I'd like to think so, at least.

So, fertility aside, I've got some pretty good abilities, wouldn't you say? You could even say I've been blessed.

Now, if I can just convince myself of that on a daily basis!

The Elusive Miracle-Surprise

Another friend of mine is pregnant.

I found out as Mister and I were excitedly driving out of town on the way to our first day of vacation. My cell phone rang, and, I was delighted to see my old friend's number. So I answered. And she told me the news. After I hung up, Mister said he was very proud of me, because I did such a good job sounding excited and happy for my friend. To which I replied, "Well, I'm a very good actor." But, the truth was, I am happy and excited for her. And jealous and crushed. Simultaneously. This friend of mine is a bit older than me. (42). She had her first child 4 years ago, and though they struggled for about a year and a half to conceive (natural conception) they had no other issues. Due to my friend's age, she and her husband figured they'd better jump right back on the train and try for number 2 right away. So, for the past 4 years or so, they've been trying to conceive. ART is not for them, and so, after 4 years, and after celebrating another birthday, she figured it was over. She totally moved on. She gave away all the baby stuff she'd been hanging on to (high chairs, clothes, toys, etc.) some of which I was the happy recipient. She told me, the last time I saw her, that she and her husband knew they would just be a family of 3, and that was fine. Done. Moving on. Next topic.

Then, Blam! Pregnant. A total miracle-surprise.

There have been a lot of these miracle-surprises happening lately. There have been several recently out in the blogosphere that I am aware of. And, there's all the second-hand stories I hear everywhere. (Some one's friend's-sister, who only had one ovary, tried for 5 years, yadda, yadda, yadda.) I have heard so many of these miracle tales over the past 3-4 years that I honestly assumed that eventually, one day, MY miracle-surprise would happen. It is what has kept the flame of hope alive through all of the bad news and evidence to the contrary I've received, that one day, it would happen.

So the overwhelming feeling I had when I hung up the phone was, "Where's MY miracle?"

And the following answer my mind and heart came up with was this. Maybe there is no miracle in store for me. Miracles are miracles because they don't happen every day, or to everyone. They are miraculous because they are "not supposed to happen." And the overwhelming evidence suggests that, after 4 years of wanting and trying to have a baby, there is no miracle in sight. In 4 years, I have never managed to get knocked up naturally. We got pregnant one time, on C.lomid, but it didn't stick. And, each month that passes, my already crappy eggs just get older and more geriatric. So, I am most likely one of the people on the other side of the miracle story: the ones you don't hear about. The ones for whom there IS no miracle. One of the ones that never gets her pot of gold. And, being sad, or angry, or jealous, or sorry for myself, won't change the outcome. It won't change the facts. So, then, why waste the energy feeling angry, jealous, and sorry for myself, if the outcome remains the same? Why?

I cried for a while after I got off the phone with my friend, as all these thoughts were swirling around in my head. And then, I vowed I would not let this bit of news ruin my vacation. And I didn't. Furthermore, I gave myself this cycle "off." I decided to not care (as best I could) about where I was in my cycle, what my ovaries were doing, or any of it. I did not bring along my thermometer, did not do any charting, nothing. Also, I drank wine, ate pizza, sweets, whatever I felt like. I started my mornings with my old friend coffee! I even had a cocktail at lunch, no less, one of our days out and about. Because I felt like it. Ha! I just tried to be present and enjoy myself, and my husband and my son. And it was great. There were even moments where, for the first time in a long time, I just felt "normal." I felt like Me.

And, since that day I decided to try and not care any more about my infertility (a weighty undertaking, but I'm trying) I have been repeating a few things over and over to myself. Mantras, if you will. Of course, the aforementioned, "Being upset about it, will not change the outcome. So don't be upset." "Be fluid" or, "Go with the flow." And, "What will be, will be." Also, every time I look at a pregnant woman, I think, "Some women are made to be pregnant. Some aren't. I'm one of the latter. So be it."

I'm not saying that I have reached some sort of higher ground (as you can tell if you read my last post about being in I.kea). But, it feels better than always expecting a different outcome than what I have received.

So when I was at my acupuncturist's office the other day, she asked me how my mood was. I told her it was pretty good, that I was feeling pretty relaxed after my vacation. And then, I told her about my friend. And, the conversation went something like this:

Acu: How do you feel about that? I can see it is making you weepy.
Me: Well, I wish it were me this time. But it's not. And, I'm beginning to think, it just may not happen for me.
Acu: And how do you feel about that?
Me: I just wish I could stop caring. If I could just open up my brain and remove the wiring that makes me care whether I ever get pregnant or not, then, life would be great.
Acu: What would your life look like if you could do that?
Me: Great. I could move on. I could focus on other things. I could just be a wife to my husband, and a mother to my son, and, I have this AMAZING child! We could get our life back on track, financially. We could stop living like we are on hold--in limbo.
Acu: Yeah?
Me: Yeah!
(Pause)
Me: But I'm not quite there yet.
Acu: But, I think this is how you get there. Day by day. You grieve a little, and you let a little go. And then, one day, you come out on the other side of it.
Me: I would like to get to the Other Side of this. I would like to have my life back.
Acu: Then you will.



Maybe I've had plenty of miracles, but have refused to recognize them, because I've been so caught up in my strangle-hold of trying to have a baby. For instance, is it not a miracle, that, despite the fact that my body refuses to procreate, I have here, right in front of me, a beautiful HEALTHY BABY? Is it not a miracle, that, the biological mother of this amazing child picked Mister and me, out of all the people on the frigging planet, and said, 'Here, I want to give you my Baby'?! Is not a bona fide Miracle-Surprise that we got matched with our birthmother the very first day our adoption profile went up on our agency's site? Is it not a miracle that this baby loves me, and reaches for me, yes me, when he wants his Mommy?

And, the other thing is, I'm tired. I'm exhausted from the caring about my infertility. I'm tired of wanting and not getting. I'm sick to death of the sad feelings and the jealousy and the distance I have had to put between me and my fertile friends, and, sometimes, the world. I'm so tired of giving a shit, that I could just scream. I am ready to be done. I am not quite done, I know, in my heart, but I truly want to be done. Perhaps that is the first step on my road to recovery. When I think of how life will be after I reach that elusive place of not caring about being infertile any more, it makes me very happy and hopeful. So, perhaps my focus is changing. Changing from reaching that pot of gold (pregnancy) to getting past the point where I'm even looking for it any more. To being satisfied with what I have.

Lastly, I still want to do the IUI. I feel that I must pursue, at this point, what options we have, so at least I will know that I did all that I could. I am keeping the flame of hope lit for now. However, I'm feeling (at this point) less committed to the outcome. As I see it, one of three things will happen with this IUI. 1. I'll actually get pregnant! 2. I won't get pregnant, and when it's all over, I'll really be in that place of saying, 'okay, I'm done.' and I'll move on. 3. I won't get pregnant, but we will learn some new information about my body, and how it responds to the treatment that will be encouraging enough for us to go ahead an give it another try.

I think I am ok with any of those.

Attention Pregnant Women!

It must be "Pregnant Woman Day" at I.KEA. Because, I was there today, and boy, every pregnant woman within 5 counties was there, too. Honest. So, if you're pregnant (and really, who ISN'T pregnant right now?) get yourself over to I.KEA because they must be giving something special away to all pregnant women who walk through the door. And, please, let me know what it is. I'm curious. Hope it's better than a jar of lingonberry preserves or a bag of Swedish meatballs.

Back From Vacation

I have a lot to write about; things are rolling around in my head. But for now, here's a couple of photos.

Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut

Sometimes you don't.

Up and down, up and down, goes the never-ending roller coaster of emotions surrounding my (in)fertility.

*Sigh*

Yes, I've been in the doldrums lately. And, at times, down right sad. Also despondent. A little anger and self-loathing thrown in for good measure.

I think a large part of my mental state may have to do with being totally exhausted. The wedding season is coming to an end, but, the slow-down isn't coming soon enough for me. I've been going balls-to-the-proverbial-wall for about 3 weeks straight now. (Well, six months, but the last 3 weeks in particular have been loony-toons). I'm at the point where I'm so tired, I can't sleep for crap. (Does this happen to anyone else?). Sort of an on-going cycle of sleep deprivation. Enough to make a rock-solid, emotionally stable person crack up a bit. For me, it's down-right dangerous territory.

My poor husband.

Also, I'm having a lot of anxiety regarding our upcoming (and now, postponed) IUI. We were going to do it this cycle (and I'm on cycle day 2 now, so I would have been starting the Clomid tomorrow) but we decided to wait one more cycle because as bad luck and timing would have it (natch') we'll be on vacation, with friends who are coming from out of town, next week. And, at the end of next week, we have planned a baptism for Baby Boy, with family and friends in attendance, and yes, as luck would have it, that would probably be the exact day that I would have to go in for the IUI. Too hectic. Also not fair for Baby Boy. That should be his day, with no interruptions or side-trips to the RE so Mommy can get a catheter shoved through her cervix. (As much as I enjoy the thought of that).

But the good news is: We're going on VACATION! I can not express to you how BADLY I need it. We are staying local, and renting a house up in Wine Country for a week! A divine, lovely, wine-filled week. And, I guess it's also good I'm not doing the IUI this cycle, because then I don't have to feel guilty about all the drink, and indulgent food. Or the spa treatments that could potentially include hot mud baths or some such craziness. If we were cycling, I might feel afraid or timid about participating in all of the above.

Hopefully, I'll be so relaxed and in such a good place after my vacation, that it will make my body all that much more receptive to getting pregnant when we do go forward with the IUI the following cycle. I am just a little bit bummed to have to put it on hold, though, because I was looking forward to finally attacking this problem and feeling like I'm doing something about it.

See? Up and down, up and down...silver lining, black hole, silver lining, black hole. It never ends.

It will end.

One day.

This will end. Somehow.

I've Been Schooled

Today was my IUI class.

I got up at 5:00 a.m., got dressed, woke up Baby Boy, gave him a bottle, packed his bags, and got in the car for the long drive into the City. I dropped Baby Boy off with my dear friend Susan around 7:30, and headed to the hospital for my mandatory class. The class started at 8:00 a.m.. I was early. The first one there, actually. As the rest of the people filed in, I couldn't help surreptitiously looking at each of them, and wondering about each woman or couple; how long have they been trying? What is their diagnosis? and, Will they or won't they get pregnant?

Most of the stuff in the class was pretty basic: The different kinds of cycles, (natural, Clomid, or Injectibles) procedures, risks, etc., etc.. As the nurse went through the information, I kept sneaking looks at everyone else in the class, as we were all seated around a big conference table. Maybe it was because it was early in the morning, but everyone looked sooo (what's the word?) sullen. Or were they just sleepy? One very well put together, gorgeous, blonde, young, fashionable woman (who was there with her suit-and-tie-business-man husband) had a look of down-right indignance on her face. As if to say, "why am I here? This should not be happening to ME." Granted, she looked young (too young to be 'infertile' perhaps, in her mind), and I got the sense everything else in her life had gone according to plan up until this point. I imagined her having gone to the 'right' school, belonging to the 'perfect' sorority, meeting Mr. Young Investor, and having the perfect, lavish, beautiful, stylish wedding. I imagined their perfect home and their perfect friends. Everything perfect, except for the next step. The perfect baby, at the perfect time. I felt badly for her, but I also felt, somehow, vindicated. I thought, "See? Infertility doesn't discriminate. Even the Perfects over there are susceptible." Of course, I don't wish this on anyone. It's awful. And, I also got the sense that young Mrs. Perfect was in a lot of pain over there, and holding it all together. Or, maybe I am projecting. That's totally possible. Either way, when she looked my way, I shot her a smile. A smile that hopefully read, "Hey, this sucks, huh? Good luck to you guys." Or something like that.

Everyone seemed so sad. It was like we were all there to begin a death-march. Maybe that is why I waited a year to do this. Maybe that is why we adopted first. Today, I was not sad. I was excited. I was feeling like, "This is good! We're infertile, but we're trying! We're doing something about it." I wanted to run around and hug everybody in the room and say, "Hey! It's going to be ok!!" But, maybe if I had started this a year ago, right after my diagnosis, I'd be in death-march mode. I was so depressed back then. I was in shock. I was angry and confused. I looked like a lot of those people sitting around that conference table today. Of course, I don't know how I'll feel about it as we get further into it. I am aware that there may be disappointments ahead. I am not sure how I will take those disappointments. But for now, I feel pretty good. And, I don't feel so desperate. I'm already a mom. I just want to get pregnant. I reeeally want to get pregnant. But, either way, I am a mom.

Speaking of moms. One lady came to the class with her toddler. If looks could kill, this poor lady would have probably been dead before she got to her seat. Of course she, for some reason, decided to sit next to me. Maybe it was random, or maybe she sensed on some level that I was the one person in the room who didn't want to kill her. I, having just dropped off my child with a friend, could totally understand how hard it is to be juggling motherhood, with pursuing treatment. If it weren't for my friend Susan offering to babysit (and it just so happens she lives not far from the hospital--convenient!) I might have been in the same boat. But, having spent so long being one of those people who looks at women with babies with jealousy and even anger, I would more than cringe at bringing a baby or young child into a room full of Infertiles. Yeesh. Ah well, whaddya gonna do?

The second half of the class consisted of being taught all about self-injecting. After we learned how to use all the different kinds of needles, pens, etc., the nurse asked if any of us would like to try injecting ourselves. Everyone was silent. The nurse urged, "Come on--you don't want to be sitting there at 10:00 o'clock at night the first night you have to inject yourself, and just not be able to do it because you are too scared, or because you're afraid of doing it wrong! This is your chance to do it with a nurse in the room!" Everyone was acting all sheepish and cringe-y. Finally, even though I am not doing injectibles (this time--and hopefully I won't have to, cause the Clomid cycle is going to work, right?) I raised my hand and said, "I'll do it!" (Gosh people, have some guts!) The needle was tiny, by the way. So, with the nurse watching, I stuck the darn thing in my belly (it was only filled with saline solution) and boom. It was done. I looked up, and Mrs. Perfect was staring at me like I was crazy. The mom next to me audibly cringed and turned away as I was doing it. I looked around the table, and, trying not to laugh, said, "It doesn't hurt. Really, it doesn't hurt." (Maybe I should have turned around, pulled up my shirt, shown them the big tattoo on my back, and said, "Now, THAT hurt!") Eventually, several more people decided to give it a try. And then, class was over. Everyone kept lingering a bit. I'm not sure why. But, being the first to arrive, I was also the first to leave.

I really, really hope that that will be the only time I'll have to jab myself. Not because I'm afraid of the needle, but because I'm ready for a break. Ready for something to work. It would be so incredibly wonderful if this first IUI just....worked.

And, hey, no offense to anyone out there who is afraid of needles. I understand. If the nurse had, for instance, pulled out a bag of spiders and said we had to stick our hands in there, I'd probably run out of the room as fast as my feet would carry me.

Not Sure You Want to Know, But...

My period did come early, but I eeked out a couple of more days after my last post. I wound up with a 23-day cycle, as opposed to my usual 27-28 day cycle. Distressing, but I am trying to get back on the positive thinking train, and tell myself that everyone has random weird cycles, even 20-year-old fertile women. So there.

And on to bigger things: Next month we will do our first ever IUI. I got my "packet" from my RE's office the other day, complete with lab slips for me (to get my FSH, TSH tested) and for Mister (to check his swimmers). Also in the packet is my prescription for Clo.mid. Feels a little deja vu-ish, (the Clo.mid part) but I am going with it. My RE wants to start with the Clo.mid, so I'm down. Hey, we might get lucky, right? I am opting for some extra monitoring (ultrasounds) though, to make sure we get a clear picture of how my little ovaries are responding to the drug. If I'm not getting enough good mature follicles, then I don't want to waste any time doing it again. I'd rather move right on to injectibles.

Of course, I am hoping that we get lucky with IUI either way, so we don't have to go to IVF. As y'all know, finances are an issue for us at the moment. And, if we find ourselves facing IVF, it opens a whole can of worms. Can we afford it? What do we give up in order to afford it? How many can we afford to do? How many can we afford to do if we want to have any hope of adopting again if it doesn't work? Are we willing to spend it "all" on IVF and risk not being able to adopt again if it doesn't work? How badly do we (I) want to be pregnant? Or is it more important to just to grow our family? And what about Donor Eggs? When will I give up on my own eggs? Should we just forget it all now, and wait a couple of years, when our financial situation is improved, and go strait to DE? Ugh. My little brain gets dizzy.

At any rate, I am trying to take it one step at a time. And, I am trying not to get too worked up over this first IUI. I am trying to think of it just as a fact-finding mission. Sort of like just doing more fertility testing. You know, see how I respond to the drug, see what my ovaries are doing, and get a better picture of what our options are.

I hope I can hold on to that mind-set as I'm actually going through it, and all jacked up on the hormones.

Some Days...

For the most part, I have been making a very concerted effort, these past few months, to be more positive. I have really been trying to banish my gloom-and-doom thoughts, my thoughts of jealousy, frustration and anger, and trade them in for thoughts that make me feel as happy or as hopeful as possible. I think I've been doing a pretty good job. I think if you asked my husband he would probably agree--I've been in a better mood lately. For instance, on most days, when I see a pregnant woman, instead of thinking, "why her and not me?" Or, the even more dark, "that will never be me!" I've been trying to think, "One day that will be me." At first, it felt really forced, and un-natural. (I'm way more cynical than that). But after a while, it got easier. I'm not 100% sure if I believe myself all the time (about 100 times a day--those pregnant women are everywhere). But, it sure feels better than telling myself it will never happen. And, if those Depak Chopra types have anything going, then all that positive thought/creative visualization/whatever/ can't hurt my chances.

But, then there are days like today. Days when I can't muster up the positive thoughts to do battle with the negative ones. Days when despair, doubt and sadness all come flooding in. A day like today, when I am on the brink of getting my period, a FULL WEEK early, that I feel as though all hope is lost. I can't help feeling like, now that we are finally on the cusp of getting treatment, when we finally had a shred of hope, that the rug is being pulled out from under me. Having a 3-week cycle, I fear, signals the beginning of the end: a spiked FSH, the shorter periods the doctor last year told me were imminent, and impending menopause. My hope seeps out of me on days like today. And, today was one of those days when I found out my good friend (I used to call her my 'best friend' but that's another story) just gave birth to a baby boy. Of course I am thrilled for her. But I am also sad, and jealous. Jealous because it only took her a few months of having good old-fashioned s.e.x with her husband, to become pregnant. And that is the whole story for her. Jealous and sad that the story for me includes years of trying and NOT getting pregnant, a full year of testing, a 'teaser' pregnancy (finally pregnant! Oh, sorry, no heart beat), a d&c, tens of thousands of dollars spent on all those tests (which my insurance did not cover) and an adoption. Jealous that the status of "motherhood" for me also includes the words: Birth-parents, adoptive parents, Birth-mother, Biological Mother, Social Worker, Home-study, Court Date, etc., and not the words: Labor, Delivery, Pregnancy, Maternity Ward, Doula, Midwife, Breast Feeding.

And today is one of those days when I start to think that all the acupuncture, wheat grass, caffeine-abstinence, alcohol-abstinence, and clean living, ain't gonna do a thing for my eggs, and, who have I been trying to kid. Myself, apparently. Maybe my husband is right, and, I should save my money, and while I'm at it, eat whatever the f#*k I want. And have a coffee, dammit!! Today is the type of day when I do think, "maybe I will never be pregnant." Which is a thought that makes me so sad, I can't even deal.

But I still try really hard to get to the next-best-feeling thought that I can. Anything that is a leg up from despair. Despair is a terrible place to reside, and I was living there for a long time. I still visit, but I try not to stay too long. When I'm feeling really bad, I just try and close my eyes and picture my son's face. I picture him smiling at me, and my heart feels like it grows 3 sizes bigger, and I can't help but smile. I think about how I feel when I am holding him and he reaches up and touches my face and my hair with his little hands. I let that feeling wash over me, and I know that one thing has gone very right today.

But, either way, today is a day when I could really use some encouragement. And a beer. Ah, dangit!

Out, Out, Damned Teeth!

Oh, poor baby. Oh, poor Mommy. Mister and I awoke last night at 3:30 to the sound of shrill, ear-piercing cries. Baby Boy neeeever cries like this. He is such a mellow guy. So, you know he is reeeaaally upset/in pain when something like this happens. This poor kid is getting his MOLARS (already! at six months!) and this is just more than he can handle at this moment. Ugh. Long story short, I was awake with him until about 5:30 a.m.. He wouldn't fall asleep anywhere but lying on my chest. Finally, fiiiinally, he was able to go in his crib after he had fallen asleep with me on the couch. Poor guy was pretty cranky today as well. Needless to say, so am I.

There is no doubt that I am his Mommy though--when he was in the throes of his painful cries, guess who was crying too? That's right. His mommy. It just hurt me so much to see him in such distress. I felt like my heart would break.

God, I love that boy.

Now, get on with it, molars! And stop torturing my son!!

And That is Why You Get a Second Opinion!

Okay, I'm feeling much more human now, after a full-night's sleep. Did I say I was off to "make dinner" in my last post. Har, har. Actually my adorable husband made dinner. But you should know that "making dinner" for us consists of opening the freezer and deciding what sort of boxed item will be opened and put in the microwave or oven. Last night's meal was a delicious veggie burger. Mine with a big helping of sliced avocado. Yummm.

Anyway, enough blathering. On to the visit with the RE. We'll call him Dr. Nice. So, Dr. Nice looked over all my medical records, including the results from the ultrasound and my consultation with Dr. A. Hole last year. Dr. Nice said that though my FSH was high, it wasn't thaaaat high. He also said that my antral follicle count from last year's ultrasound (at Dr. A. Hole's office) was pretty good. The same antral follicle count that Dr. A. Hole looked at last year and deemed my ovaries and any chances of getting pregnant with my own eggs a useless waste of time. Hmmm. Dr. Nice said that as long as my FSH hasn't spiked dramatically in the past year, and my antral follicle count was still "good" (as high or close to last year) then we should definitely try to get pregnant with my eggs first before moving on to DE. He also said we had some time to try some lower-impact, lower-cost measures first (IUI) because I am "ONLY" 35. Yes. He said that. He actually said time was on our side.

We then proceeded to the ultrasound room where I said hello to the dildocam again to check the ol' antral follicles. At day 6 of my cycle, there were 3-4 visible on the right, and 6-7 on the left. A total of AT LEAST NINE!!! Pretty good, eh? I know I won't win any contests with a twenty-something fertile woman, but, hey, at this point I am not going to complain.

So, now, decision time. Dr. Nice seems to think we should try IUI with Clomid first. Up to three rounds, before moving on to IVF. And, as far as IVF goes, we figure we can probably save up and afford to try it...maybe...ONCE. Hmmm. My friend, B., who was a patient of Dr. Nice (and who is now pregnant from her first IVF) told me her advice would be to skip all the IUI's and go directly to IVF. Why waste the time and money? However, she did IUI's with her regular OB, and not Dr. Nice. By the time they came to Dr. Nice, they were ready to move on to IVF. Also, their insurance paid for a whole lot of the IVF costs. Ours pays nothing. Zip. Zilch. The only thing our insurance will cover in any of these scenarios is the Clomid. Ha, ha. So, we think we kinda want to at least try the low-cost option once or twice to see if we get lucky? You never know, right? But I think B. is right--we don't want to waste too much time or money if it just isn't working.

So now, we need to schedule our first IUI. I can't believe I'm actually moving on to a real attempt to get pregnant. It's exciting and scary. Scary because we know there is noooooo guarantee it will work. But exciting because now there is this dose of HOPE that we have not had for many years now. Since our appointment, it has been like this huge black cloud has been lifted between Mr. and I and just around us in general. It's like, just having someone (Dr. Nice) who is in our corner, and cheering us on, is such a validation. It feels so great to have an ounce of hope again.

Of course, if I DO get pregnant, we'll have to figure out how a family of FOUR is going to live in our teeny tiny house. But, that's fine with us. Small thing to deal with compared to what we would have to be happy about. Am I dreaming too much? How much hope is it safe to have, here?

Oh, yeah--I'll have to get my FSH re-checked. Gulp.

Quickie

Hi--
Soooo busy with work and other stuff the past couple of days--no time to write. Got up at 5 a.m. this morning to go to the Flower Market, and just got home from work. Exhausted. So, the very quick update on the RE appointment: I LOVE MY NEW RE!!! The appointment went very well, and now Mister and I have much to consider. I will spill all the details soon. I promise. But now I must make dinner, play with Baby Boy and go to bed early. ZZZZzzzzzzzzzz

Gird Your Loins!

Alright, I'm going in...
Today is the day. My appointment with a new RE. I am very nervous and sort of jittery right now. Which is weird, because up until today, I've been totally calm about the whole thing. I guess now that it's here...I am nervous about what he is going to say. I am afraid it will just be more bad news. Or, I should say, the same news as before. Which is bad. I am afraid he will just give me the whole Donor Egg speech again. I'm afraid he will say I have useless ovaries.

The good news this time though, is....I am a little better prepared. I know some things he might say, and I though I don't want to hear them, I am prepared to hear them. This time around, I am at least already a Mom. I have that little boy to go home to, so I feel a little less desperate. A little. Also, my sister is coming to meet me and take care of Baby Boy during our (Mister is coming with me, thank goodness) appointment. So, I have double support if it goes badly. This time I have more questions to ask, and I am also more empowered with the knowledge (despite what this RE might tell me) that women with my condition can and do get pregnant. Some even naturally. Many with the help of drugs, IUI, or IVF. With their own eggs. And....that even if none of those things ever work for me, I know two things: 1. I am a good mother, and my son loves me. If we adopt again, my other child(ren) will love me, too. 2. If I reeeeeaaaally need to experience pregnancy some day, I can do the Donor Egg thing later, when finances allow. There is not such a rush if I'm not using my eggs, and I can still experience pregnancy.

But, I still want a miracle. I still want that pregnancy. I still want some spark of hope. I still want a different outcome than what has come before.

We shall see. I'll update tomorrow.

Wish me luck!!

Small Disappointments

I awoke a few minutes before my scheduled alarm this morning (aka 4:45 a.m.--it's Flower Marketing day) to that familiar feeling of Aunt Flo knocking on my uterus door. "Ugh," I thought as I slithered out of bed, tiptoed over the sleeping dog, and skulked into the bathroom, "why now?" Well, why not now? At least she's fairly punctual. Fairly. The sad thing was that earlier in the week I thought I was supposed to get AF and I allowed myself (foolishly) to get a little excited that perhaps, maybe, possibly, she was l.a.t.e.. But, a quick review of my calendar yesterday proved me wrong by a few days, and, of course, here she was this morning, on the dot, so to speak.

And, unlike in times gone by, I didn't dissolve into sadness. I didn't get angry and frustrated. Just mildly annoyed as I popped a few Ibuprofen. A minor, albeit regularly scheduled, inconvenience.

But, all that silly hopefulness, and "what-if, just maybe..." kind of thinking over the past couple of days, had me in a really good mood. Which, I must admit, is not totally crashed-and-burned, but is much, much, dimmer considering this morning's arrival.

But why would I even let myself think for a minute that this month would be any different than the all the other months that have come and gone over the past three years?

Dunno. Eternal (guarded) optimist?

I have been trying some new fun ("fun"-?) fertility stuff though: The acupuncture, as you know. I also started using a new fertility ("fertility"-ha.) monitor, called "Maybe Baby" which I purchased off the Internet. A simple dot of spit on the little lens tells you if you are about to ovulate by the ferning pattern that appears when you look at your saliva under the mini-microscope. Quite fun to play with, actually, and much more convenient for my busy lifestyle right now than OPK's and BBT charting.

The super healthy diet and the no caffeine or alcohol thing though has been a challenge. I've sort of been off and on with the "diet" since last winter, after I read "The Infertility Cure" by Randine Lewis. I'll admit, it's much easier to do during my slow season when I have more time to plan, shop for, and prepare my meals, and I'm not always on the go-go-go. Cooking at home? What? Not till November or so, when work slows down.

But, somehow, I guess I held some hope that maybe something would shift for me.

But, no--not this month.

However, I guess, now is the beginning of a new cycle, and another chance to work on things in fertility land.

Gotta try and drink my wheat grass more often.

Ah well....for now it's okay to indulge in some much needed wine (and whine?) on the first day of the new cycle, right? I think I'll be picking up a bottle of white on the way home. I can go back on the wheat grass and sugar-free wagon tomorrow, right?

Tomorrow is another day....

p.s. As I write this, my "intern" (the 18-year-old pregnant one) is chatting away about her "bump" to one of the other girls. Oh heck. Where's that bottle of wine?!

Not Much to Report

Hello All,
First, I want to thank everyone who sent me their supportive comments. It is so nice to be reminded that there are other people out there who can actually understand what I'm going through, and are empathetic. Not many people around me are super sensitive to the whole thang that is INFERTILITY!.

My friend, J. is about 10 days away from her due date. I had the opportunity to spend some quality girl time with her a week ago, and I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself. I asked her to tell me how she was feeling, I let her "complain" about her pregnancy symptoms, and I just tried to be a good friend, and put that whole IF thing on the shelf as much as one can. At the end of our "friend date" I even put my hand on her belly to feel the baby kicking, and I put my face near her belly button, and said, "Little Dude, this is your Auntie Frenchie, I can't wait to meet you. Be nice to your mommy when it's time for you to come out! I love you." And, even though tears were appearing as I stood back up, I meant it all. It is possible to love your pregnant friend, love her baby, be happy for her, wish her the best of everything, and still be a little bit sad that it's not you in her shoes.

And, in my own little world, I have been going crazy as usual with work/home/life responsibilities, but I have to say, it all means nothing when I look at Baby Boy. Every time I think it is NOT possible to love that kid any more than I already do, another day goes by, and I discover a new level of love for him. Sometimes, I'll be holding him, giving him a bottle, or just playing with him, and I just start crying (Okay I cry a lot. I'm a cryer. V. annoying) because I just loooooove him so much! And I can't believe he's MY son. I guess that's what being a mom is all about...just being so in love with your child, that it is bigger than you ever could have imagined, and impossible to really explain. Adopted, biological child, product of donor eggs, donor sperm, in vitro, carried by surrogate, whatever the case...your child is your child. The most precious person in your life, the person that makes you A MOM! How wonderful! How awesome! Anyway, he is such a gift from that Big Guy Upstairs. And, I just felt that I should let y'all know, that despite the frustration of the whole IF thing, (which I mostly talk about here on this blog) that I am very aware of how dang lucky I am. I am. I know. Deeply privileged to be his mother.

Phew. Getting a little ver klempt.

In other news, my appointment with my new RE approaches (Sept. 10th). I don't know if he'll have anything new or interesting to tell me, but we'll see. If they are willing to do IUI with us, it might be something to consider. A cheaper option than IVF. Waaaay cheaper. *sigh* I don't know.

A very nice person made a comment on my last entry about Donor Eggs. Yes, it is in the list of Things to Consider. The good thing about donor eggs would be (aside from a high chance of actually getting pregnant and delivering a healthy baby! *My darn eggs--phhhhhtttt*) that there wouldn't be such a huge rush. I mean, if we're not worrying about my ageing eggs, and since there's nothing wrong with my uterus, etc., I could certainly do the whole DE thing in several years. Which is probably the amount of time it would take to save up the money to do it. Hmmmm.

Anywhoo...what's up with you all?

Two Paths

There have been many conversations around our house lately (and some tears, to boot) regarding whether or not (and how, and when) Mister and I will (or will not) pursue bringing another child into our family. I, as you all know, very much want to experience pregnancy and child birth as part of my experience of being a mother. I also would very much like to have a biological child (as opposed to using Donor Eggs, which is also a consideration). Mister, however, couldn't care any less whether or not we have a biological child. He wants to have more children, but whether or not they come from our bodies, doesn't really make a difference to him. It may have to do with the fact that he, himself is adopted, and he is totally secure and happy within his family, and never felt like he was missing out on anything being an adopted child. He never felt the need to seek out his biological parents--he always says that he had the best parents anyone could ask for, so why go searching for something else?

And, that's sort of the attitude he has with our family. Baby Boy is the best child we could have ever hoped for (and he is) so why go looking for something more? When it's time to add a sibling to our family, adoption is a great way to do it. It worked out for us once, why dive into the murky waters of ART and why on earth would we go back to the emotional roller coaster of trying to conceive?

However, he does understand that it is important to me to at least try. Or so he says.

But (and I mean a BIG BUT) we do not, at this point have the means to do IVF or any other expensive fertility treatments. We are still in debt from the adoption (and other things) so, there isn't any money to pursue ART. And, we certainly won't be doing our lives, relationship, or Baby Boy's future any good to go further into debt at this point.

Mister is a logic and statistics kind of person. He looks at the odds, and makes unemotional decisions based on reality. Chances of getting pregnant, even with IVF, are on the low side. The stakes are high, financially (and emotionally, too) so why gamble? Go with the safe bet, and pursue a path that has a 100% guarantee of having a baby at the end of it: adoption.

How can I explain my deep longing to become pregnant, and carry a baby to term? How can I fly in the face of such sound logic and say, "No! We have to choose the other path!"?

Can I?

Even in the absence of trying any expensive ART, Mister does not want to even try the "Natural" path. (Acupuncture, herbs, diet, yoga, etc.) That, too, he says, is expensive. (It can be). And why would we spend any money on something that isn't going to work anyway, when we need to spend any money we can spare on paying down our debt and putting money away for Baby Boy's college?

I don't know, how can we? Why should we?

Is the fact that I feel deep, deep down in my bones that there is a child that is meant to come to us through my body. That, though the challenges are many, that I deserve the opportunity to pursue my dream, so that I can feel that I have done all I can before I give up the dream.

Is that crazy?

Of course, I don't want to push our family into financial ruin. Not for this dream or any other.

But aren't both people within a relationship entitled to pursue their dreams, at least, in a responsible way, as long as both partners can agree? Can't there be a way to move forward that that allows me to feel some empowerment in knowing I am doing WHAT I CAN to pursue optimum fertility?

I am willing to give up many things (and I already have) to make room in the budget: Therapy, manicures, hair stylist (I have actually started cutting my own hair--and coloring of course). I am no clothes horse, and I drive a hand-me-down car. All this I do without complaint. The one thing I want, in the absence of being able to afford medical treatements, is to go to acupuncture twice a month and take whatever herbs my TCM prescribes.

This, I feel, at least, will promote and foster whatever fertility I may still possess.

Am I crazy?

Still there is another side of me that says, "I am tired." I am tired of the trying, the wanting, the hurting, the jealousy and the arguments. There are plenty of times where I look at my son, and think, "This is enough. I am happy." Those moments are wonderful.

Maybe one day soon, I will come to a place where I am totally, 100% fine with not trying anymore to get pregnant.

In the meantime, the stress of doing NOTHING is too great.

Maybe I am crazy. This is sounding a little schizophrenic, even to me.

But, for now, I am doing the following:
Acupuncture 2x month. (I have a new acupuncturist, who specializes in fertility issues, and I looooove her).
Whatever herbs (bleeech!) she prescribes.
Lots of vitamins, supplements (folic acid, fish oil, CoQ10)
Trying (TRYING!) to eat right. No white flour, sugar, caffeine, alcohol.
Trying to gain some weight. (I am one of those annoying women who actually complains about being too skinny.) But it's true, if you saw me, you'd probably tell me to eat a sandwhich.

As soon as my busy season winds down, I hope to do more for my body, such as yoga.

I'm trying to find some time each day to breath deeply. I need to learn to meditate.

I'm trying (TRYING) to think positive thoughts. I know, I know, I've even referred to myself as Miss Negativity. I'm trying to change that. Some creative visualization and positive thoughts can't hurt, at least.

I am going to see a new RE next month to get a second opinion on my diagnosis and prognosis. This is purely a fact-finding mission, since, as you know, IVF is not an affordable option right now. If it even IS an option, with my eggs, at all. Well, I'm going to find out what the deal is.

Two paths, one already traveled, one unknown and full of potholes. Which one will we take?

Negative Spaces

There has been a lot of baby-and-or-pregnancy related stuff going on around me lately. Last week , I attended my friend, J.'s baby shower. I actually wrote a post about the baby shower, but took it down after I received a somewhat 'slamming' comment from an Anonymous lurker. She accused me of being extremely negative. Well, she was right. I was in a very negative place at the time I wrote the post. It is true, that I feel very deep pain about being infertile. I can't help it. I try to think happy thoughts, and focus on the positives. And, doing so helps me get through the negative spots. But, I have to have a place to vent. I guess that really comes out in my posts, and, overall, makes me look like a really negative person. If I had time to post every day, I'd probably post about a lot of other things in my life, things that have a more positive ring to them, but I don't. About once a week or so, I sit down, and write. I write about all the negative thoughts that have been swirling around in my head or things that have been bothering me, hurtful comments that others have made, or situations that I have found difficult to deal with. I have to get it all out, so that my husband, my co-workers, my friends and my family don't have to hear about it. Because they don't want to hear about it any more, I'm sure, and, well, I have to try to go out into the world and seem normal, and hopefully, somewhat minimally pleasant to be around. I especially need to do this for the sake of my son. I want him to have a happy mom. And, blogging about the infertility stuff helps. A place to put it--a way to get it out, and (hopefully) let some of it go, until it builds up again and I write another post. It's sort of like therapy, only, way, way cheaper.

Anonymous was right--I am sure I do come off as being very negative. I have never been a Suzy-sunshine, God-has-a-plan, the-sun-will-come-out-tomorrow sort of person. I am a little more cynical, sarcastic, and distrusting than all of that. But that is not 100% of my personality. I'm sorry if that's all I present HERE. I will try to post about more positive things when I can, but I am not promising things will change over night. So, Anonymous Commenter, if you don't like the tone of my blog. Please find another blog to read. This is my space to spew whatever I want. I don't even NEED anyone to read it, just need to write it. But, thank you for your comments. I have taken the time to really think about them and consider them.

But, I digress. To return to the original purpose of this post:

My friend J.'s baby shower was lovely. She was very pregnant, happy, and glowing. I was very very happy for her. But it was hard to watch. Sorry, but it was. It just was. I was proud of myself for showing up, and participating as much as I could in the revelry. I really made the effort. But, I had to leave after about 2 hours. The rest of the afternoon was difficult. I was PMSing really hard which did not make it any easier. And, yes, I was in a negative place.

Then, this past week, one of the young (18-years-old) girls that works for me as an intern, announced she was pregnant. There was a lot of glee and talk and giggling and general merriment around the workshop in response to the announcement. She claims it was an oops! pregnancy, but I am not so sure. She said she took the home pregnancy test, and said to her mom, as they looked at the pee-stick, "make that 2nd line go away! ha, ha..." This was like a knife in my gut. Luckily, I was in my office--I could hear everything they were saying, but they could not see me crying. As the pregnancy talk went on and on, I had to find some errands to run, so that I could get out of there for a while.

I decided to come home for lunch. To see my hubby, and get a little bit of a baby-fix. Seeing my son's face just cheers me up. He is so precious to me.

However, Baby Boy was taking a nap. And, my husband took the opportunity of my being home to let me know that his brother's wife had just given birth to their third child. A girl, with a beautiful name. I knew the announcement was coming any day. And I am genuinely happy for them. But, at that moment, it just made me feel totally spent and empty.

It is true, I still long to achieve a pregnancy and have a healthy baby. I wish I had a different body and could some how make it happen. I always dreamed of having children (plural) and I always vowed I would not raise an Only Child. However, the reality is that after begging, borrowing and stealing (that is a figure of speech, we didn't steal anything) to hire a kick-ass adoption firm, and then being matched surprisingly quickly with our birth-mother, and pulling a rabbit out of our collective hat to be able to go through with the adoption before we were financially prepared, we are too broke to pursue any Fertility Treatments. It may be a long time before we have the money to do so, by which time, any dim chance we now have, will only be dimmer, or, burned out completely.

So, it is true, the pregnancy and birth announcements, the happy wonderful baby showers for my pregnant friends, they sting. I wish it were me.

However, to set Anonymous Commenter straight: I do value, love and cherish my son. He is the brightest light in my life and I would not want to have a life without him. You are wrong that I don't appreciate him. But, like many women who face secondary infertility (they have a child but cannot conceive a second time) the love I feel for my existing child does not extinguish the longing in my heart for the other child(ren) I always thought I would have. And, in my case, never having had a successful pregnancy and being the only person in my circle of friends who has started building her family through adoption, I can feel very alone in all of this. Some support would be nice. But that is another negative space in my life I need to find a way to fill, I guess.

Now, I am going to go play with the World's Cutest Baby and (Happily! No negativity!) go about my very blessed day.

Dear Fertile People

Dear Fertile,
My name is Frenchie, and I have taken it upon myself to write you this letter on behalf of myself and my other Infertile friends. We have a few requests for you, if you would please take a moment to consider the following:

1. Please, and I mean PUH-LEEAAASSSE (!) don't whine and moan about your pregnancy symptoms in front of your infertile friends. I know you are uncomfortable, and indeed you have every right to bitch about your swollen ankles and your aching back. But, keep it between you and your fellow fertile friends. Trust me, no matter how "fine" your Infertile friend might seem, she DOESN'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT. Consider the following: Though you are struggling with discomfort and even pain, it is nothing compared to the pain of infertility. Your infertile friend would gladly take on all the nausea and discomfort if it meant she could be pregnant and deliver a healthy baby. I know, I know, the extra weight of your pregnancy is making your plantar fasciitis bother you even more, and I know it sucks you have to wear that brace thingy on your foot, but your infertile friend would probably cut off her own leg below the knee and stick in a broom handle for a peg-leg and hobble around on that for the rest of her life if it meant she could be pregnant and deliver a healthy baby.

2. Please, PLEASE! If you MUST complain about your symptoms and problems, DO NOT say something like, "I just wish my body would function normally." Hey, all bets are off when it comes to being pregnant with regard to what weird things your body is going to do, and you signed up for that when you got knocked up. Deal. Again, I know it sucks, but keep those kinds of comments to yourself. I guarantee your infertile friend is thinking, "Well, your body functions normally enough to make a baby!" Trust me, she'd trade places with you in a fetal heartbeat.

3. If you have recently found yourself pregnant, don't try and hide it from your infertile friend, but be nice, and find a time when you are not at a party or some other gathering to give her the news. Do NOT under any circumstances, start musing about how easy it was to get pregnant, or what strong swimmers your husband must have. Such comments are dangerous, because they have been known to send Infertiles into psychotic fits. If you must talk about such things, make sure the room is clear of sharp objects.

4. Be supportive of your friend. Especially if she has 1. had a pregnancy loss (no matter how early in the pregnancy), 2. has recently gotten bad news on the type of infertility she and her partner are facing, or 3. has recently had a negative pregnancy test after a cycle of IVF or IUI. Treat these things with the same reverence and caring you would give her if she had 1. lost a "real" living child. Believe me, from the moment she got a positive pregnancy test, that child was very real and living. 2. had just found out about another serious medical crisis, such as cancer. Studies show the stress Infertiles deal with is the VERY SAME level as those dealing with life-threatening illnesses such as cancer. It is a very real life-crisis. 3. had just gone through a very expensive and risky procedure to potentially cure her life-threatening illness, and was told by the doctors that it didn't work.

5. Speaking of IVF and IUI, take TWO minutes to go on the internet and find out what some common lingo is in your friend's world. Really, you should know what an RE is. COME ON!

6. When you do spend time with your infertile friend, please understand, she may not want to hear about every other friend, co-worker, family member or acquaintance of yours that is ALSO pregnant. I know pregnancy is very much on your mind right now, but find SOMETHING ELSE to talk about, honestly. Every new pregnancy announcement is like a dagger in your infertile friend's gut.

Thank you for taking the time to consider these suggestions. If we work together, the relations between Infertiles and Fertiles can hopefully improve.

Yours,
Frenchie

Miss Negativity

I haven't posted in a while, and mostly it's because (same old story) I've been reeeeallly busy at work. But, there is another reason. I've been in a bit of a negative tailspin lately. I didn't want to bore you guys with all my negative pissin' and moanin'. But, here's a quick overview:

1. I can't stop comparing myself to other people.
And by other people, I mean other people who are fertile. My friend J. is due in September. After a few months of marriage, she fell pregnant, and, at age 36 is (thankfully) experiencing a healthy pregnancy with no issues. I don't know why, but lately, it's been bugging me a lot. And, I've been practicing avoidance. I keep meaning to call, but I don't. I keep meaning to make a date to get together with her, but I don't. I keep meaning to send her a package with all of Baby Boy's too small clothes, but I haven't. The thing that's really like a knife in the ribs to me? If any one could AFFORD fertility treatments, or private adoption, (or all of the above) it's J. She married a Google bazillionaire. But, I digress. My sister in law, K., is due next month. Number three. Enough said. There are lots of other pregnant people or those who have lots of bio kids. But, the list is too long.

2. I keep thinking about my miscarriage. Get over it, right? It was a year and a half ago. But, I keep thinking, that was my one shot. The ONE time sperm met egg (that we know) and I got to know the feeling of seeing two lines on the pee stick. And then it was gone.

3. I am so burned out right now with my job. Too many things here to discuss, but, let's just say: employee "issues", long hours, early mornings, needy clients, and... if you want something done right, then the owner of the company (me) better do it. UGH.

4. I look in the mirror, and, who the f#@%! is that old, harried, wrinkly, frumpy looking woman!? Depressing.

5. My ovaries. I'm obsessed. What can I do to dust them off and make them function?

Okay. So. I need to get out of this dreary dump. So, I'm formulating The Plan. As long as I have A Plan that I can work on, then at least I can feel like I'm doing something, instead of just circling around in the dumps. It will give me a focus--and somewhere to put all that negative energy, and hopefully take the edge off. Will hopefully make me more fun to be around. (I will create a separate post for the The Plan, next.)

Before I go, I would like to try and balance the negativity scales, with some gratitude. Very Oprah, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Here I go:

Things I am grateful for:

1. My son. Amazing. Beautiful. We definitely won the lottery. Love of my life. There are not enough words.

2. My husband. My best-friend. Endlessly patient with my ever changing moods. Pretty much a saint. Awesome dad.

3. My pets. Daisy, Max, (thank you God for helping him survive the pit-bull attack!), Molly. Unconditional love. Always.

4. My home. It is small. It needs work. I complain about it all the time. But it's ours. We actually own a home in the Bay Area. And, it's probably the place my son will have his first memories.

5. Even though I'm burned out right now--at least I have a career. I have something to be proud of. I gave birth to something--my little empire. And, a reason to get up every morning whether I like or not, has been a life saver (literally) during the really really dark days over the past couple of years. (Note: NOW my biggest reason to get up in the morning is my son, and I'd be happy to spend my days with him. But, you know what I mean about the job.)

Okay, well that's five for five. So, that's good. Must focus on the positives.

Sick

After weeks of running myself ragged, working my tail off, and generally burning the candle at both ends, my body has finally thrown in the towel. My body is rebelling--what started out this morning as a tickle in my throat has progressed to a full-blown sore throat (the kind that makes it hurt to swallow or speak) a throbbing headache, and a general "icky all over" feeling. Sure to follow tomorrow: stuffy/runny nose, and more of the head-in-a-fishbowl sort of experience, fever. Hopefully, it will peak at just a cold, and not turn into a full-on flu, or worse, something requiring antibiotics (sinus infection, strep throat). Of course, I am afraid to go near my son, because I don't want him to get sick. And this is really depressing to me, because, the biggest joy of my day is spending time with him. It's frustrating--beacause the reason I'm working so hard right now is for him--in a way. We are so unbelivably in debt from the loans we had to take and the money we spent out of pocket to facilitate our adoption, that I can't afford NOT to work my ass off this year. It makes me really angry, because, most fertile people don't have to go into huge debt to start a family. They just have sex. Which is free.

And, if we weren't so financially backwards right now, I'd not have to work as hard, run myself down, and go crazy. And, I'd get to spend time with my baby.

But, I digress. We are where we are. We have the situation we have. Of course, it was worth every single cent that we spent to adopt him. And he's worth working as hard as we have to to make it through this time in our lives, and rebuild financially, so that he has everything he needs. I'd walk over broken glass for my new little family. They (hubby and baby boy) are so precious to me.

So, of course, tomorrow, sick or not, I'll be back off to work. (And the nanny will be hangin' with baby boy, watching her Spanish soap operas, chillin' on the couch. Grrrrrr.)

Stuff and Things

I'm still here. I've just been really in my head lately. You might say on the verge of being depressed, but waaayy too busy to be depressed. I know I sound like a broken record, but I'm totally drowning with everything on my plate right now. Right now it's past midnight and I am wide awake with a churning stomach and a busy brain, just stressing out over all the loose ends and to-do's in my world right now.

I've been ruminating over a lot of things. Things I'm not ready to write about, but will, soon.

I actually got an estimate from Merry Maids today. Despite the fact that my house is a minuscule 760 square feet or so, I can't seem to keep it all clean. And, it's expensive. I dunno, maybe it's worth any amount of money at this point just to take one thing off my mental to-do list.

Alone on Infertility Island, or, What's So Wrong With This Island, Anyway?

I am feeling very melancholy, as my one and only Infertile Friend has set sail away from the Island, happily waving goodbye to me from her lovely raft. After her first IVF attempt, she is blissfully pregnant...has seen the heartbeat (which I never got to you might remember, from my one and only pregnancy) and is already starting to "complain" about her morning sickness. Or as she calls it, "all day sickness." Before I go any further down self-pity lane, please let me say that I am really and truly happy for her. Of any of the many, many people I know who are pregnant right now, or who are new moms, she deserves it (in my Infertile eyes) more than anyone. She is a dear, sweet, loving person, who will make an awesome mother. She and her husband have fought long and hard for this, and I honestly do wish them the best. Okay? I'm not a total A-Hole. It's just that, now that she's made it off the island, I feel so, so alone. Granted, I am here on the island with my own wonderful son, Baby Boy (aka World's Cutest Baby). And, I am so in love with this little guy, and so grateful that he is here with me. However, what many people don't understand is, adoption doesn't "cure" infertility. It doesn't totally erase the feelings of 1.Longing. Longing for that long-sough-after, long-wished-for pregnancy. The longing to feel life growing inside you, to know that you are bringing life into the world from your own desire for children, your love of your partner, and the strength of your own bodies. 2. Loneliness. The feelings of loneliness when it doesn't work, you finally admit that your body doesn't work like everyone else's (and every one else around you is working the baby-making thing overtime). The loneliness of feeling like a freak-damaged goods, inferior. Whatever you want to call it. The loneliness of not being part of "The Club." Even though you may finally be a parent, you'll never be part of that elite club of women who did it all. Conception, morning sickness, the big-belly waddle, back pain, labor, delivery, etc., and who will always have a genetic connection to their children. Nothing could make me love my son anymore than I do, but how do I explain to a Fertile Person that it kills me that I can't claim any credit whatsoever for how adorable he is, other than the clothes I chose to dress him in? That his cute nose, his red hair, his gorgeous eyes, his beautiful smile--all those things he got from someone else. 3. Despair. Despair because time is running out. Each day, each week, each month and each year, our chances get a little slimmer that a miracle could still happen. That we one day might be granted access to The Club. 4. Jealousy. Sorry, but it's hard not to be jealous of that 20-something pushing the stroller down the street, with her big, swelling pregnant belly signaling she's got another one on the way. And jealousy brings us back to Loneliness--and 5. Isolation. Because as each and every one of our friends has walked past the velvet rope--has gained admittance into The Club, we're left out in the cold holding an out-dated, wrinkled, wet ticket. And, even though our friends pop their heads out once in a while to see how we're doing, the jealousy and despair and loneliness we have been feeling so long drives such a wedge between us, that we can't be bothered to say much. So, they give up, and go back inside with the other Clubbers.

There seems to be a never-ending swell of new friends and family members announcing their pregnancies, or babies being born. It gets a little bit easier as time goes by, but not by a whole lot. People assume now that I have Baby Boy I am happy to hear the news and join in the celebration. They treat me like an "honorary" member of the club. Which, frankly, makes me feel weird. I want to be treated like one of them, but I know I'm not. So, I feel stupid. Like the geeky tag-along friend of the popular girl, who convinces her other popular friends to be nice to once in a while. But really, they're just waiting for her to walk away so they can all laugh and make fun of her clothes/hair/glasses/whatever. That's me. Poor Frenchie, it's so cute, that she is all acting like a Mother now because she has that baby. But we all know she had to BUY her way into the club. It's not a Full Membership. It has restricted access.

So, I wish I could just be happy where I am. Alone on the Island. Well, not really alone, because I have my gorgeous son. But alone in the Infertility thing. I am realizing that since I have no control over what cards I have been dealt, the real pain comes from wanting different cards. If I could just be happy with what I have, and where I am, then, why should I care if other people's cards look different? The anguish comes from imagining the life I wish I had, instead of appreciating the life I do have. Maybe I am just not evolved enough. The little Buddah inside my head tells me to live in the Now. But right now, I am crying, trying to figure out what could possibly, right now, take away a little bit of the pain.

No Rest For the Weary

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. The truth is I feel like I'm drowning. Work, work, work and more work. I can't complain. I mean, I've spent yeeears building my little empire. And, hard work, and lots of it, has never scared me. But now, with baby boy (and lots of sleep deprivation) things are different. I still care about my business. I still want to give it my "all." But, I have more important things on my plate right now. And I'm tiiiired. Really tired. Anyway, I'm having a hard time keeping up with all the work I need to do. And, when I'm not working, I'd rather spend time with baby boy and Mister than to sit around blogging. If I could develop a way of writing posts straight from my head to the computer (without any of the pesky typing) then I'd have hundreds of posts under my belt. I do think about posts I'd like to write--and I do write them. IN MY MIND. I "write" them in the van on my way to the flower market at 4:00 a.m.. I "write" them driving to and from events, in between client meetings, during middle-of-the-night diaper changes and feedings. I "write" them when I'm trying to cram in a load of laundry before I have to run off to work, while I'm tending to my sick cat (he's much better, by the way--thanks for asking Tiff) and I write them as I'm eating my Kashi frozen entree dinner. (I haven't cooked an actual meal since we arrived home with Baby Boy).

And, I'm behind on proposals, bookkeeping, and a myriad of other duties that I should be on top of if I want to keep my business running smoothly.

Drowning.

But I'm not complaining!! :0)

The truth of the matter is, I love my job, but if I had the choice right now, I wouldn't work. I would stay home with Baby Boy. I would actually CLEAN the house. I'd prepare nutritious meals. I'd take better care of myself and work on bolstering my fertility. I'd take better care of my poor husband.

But, that is not an option. We need my income. And, I can't let the business lapse. Because, I know that as much as I want to stay home right now, I also know that after a couple of years, I'd go stark raving mad if I couldn't go back to work, at least part-time. And, if the business isn't there to go back to, I don't know what I would do. I'm not really qualified to do anything else.

And, the other truth is, that I'm really proud of my little empire.

Is that so wrong?

Urban Myths and Old Wives' Tales

Any one who has gone through infertility has heard them. They range from pure legend to people's personal anecdotes. I'm not talking about the usual assvice we Infertiles could recite in our sleep--(say it with me ladies!): "Just Relax!/You just need a vacation!/Just get drunk and go for it!/As soon as you stop thinking about it it will happen!" No, I'm talking about the even more sinister stories that friends and families tell you, that early on in your infertility struggles might have given you hope, but now, just make you want to slice your ears off. They fall into a few different categories:

On Trying to Conceive you might have heard this one: "Oh, I had a friend who tried for yeeeaars to get pregnant. She and her husband went to doctors, they couldn't find anything wrong, but still, no baby. Finally, they tried IVF, still it didn't work. Finally, one day, they decided to quit trying. They said, 'I guess God does not want us to be parents.' They made plans to (fill in the blank: go back to school for a Masters, travel, move to Siberia, whatever) and then, BOOM! they found out they were pregnant that same month."

This is a hard one for us Infertiles, for many reasons. One, because we're so damned JEALOUS of whomever that friend of yours is, we want to scream. Two, because we fear it WON'T happen for us, and three, because we hope it WILL. I am particularly tetchy to this one because this type of urban legend has roots in my very own family. My mother, no less. With me. Go figure. After marrying my father at the tender age of 20, my mother discovered she was pregnant right away, with my sister, Katie. Katie was the light of their lives, and they wanted more children. Sadly, they struggled for many years, and my mother suffered two miscarriages. Finally, well into her thirties, with my sister a senior in high school, my mother started making alternate plans for the rest of her life: She had let go the very idea of having any more children, and was looking forward to the freedom she was about to have with my sister off to college. My mother decided she would go back to work as a teacher, and maybe even go back to school. She spent some time abroad teaching, and was really enjoying it. Though still married to my father, the marriage was shaky, and my mother was trying to sort out what to do next. During a hiatus from her teaching position, and home with my father and my sister, she and my dad must have found some common ground, because, well, I came along 9 months later. And my mother's plans for the next several years were put back on the back burner. At 38, my mother had no idea, thought, hope, or incling that she would become pregnant. But, she did. So, I'm glad, I suppose, cuz, hey--I'm here. But, it's kind of awful. I think my mother still believes, despite my explanation of my bad ovaries and sickly eggs, that I, too, will have a miracle 'surprise' pregnancy any day now. She believes, like it happened for her, it will happen for me. I have to keep reminding her that it very likely will not, and I have to keep convincing myself it won't, either. Because the hope is too painful.

On Miscarriage one might hear this one: (The following is an actual story told to me by a {pregnant at the time-ugh!} friend): "I'm so sorry you had a miscarriage, but, my sister-in-law had a miscarriage several months ago, and had to have a D&C. Several weeks later, she was feeling really tired and sickly, and she was convinced that somehow they had botched the surgery and she had some sort of infection that was making her sick. She called the doctor's office and read them the riot act--sure that they had not taken good care with her. They doctor told her to come in for an examination. Well, turns out, SHE WAS PREGNANT! The doctor scolded her for having sex too soon after her surgery (but hey, she and her husband 'just got drunk one night and went for it') but it didn't matter--she was already 3 weeks along. Now she's due any day, and, guess what? She's having twins!!!!"

I heard this one, along with many similar stories, right after my miscarriage. I heard so many of these tales that I truly believed I would become pregnant again immediately. Well, over a year later, I have not gotten pregnant. Not even close. So much for that one.

And, on Infertility and Adoption, you might hear something that sounds like: "I know this couple. They tried for yeeeeaars to have kids, with no luck. So, finally, they decided to adopt. Wouldn't you know it, less than one month after bringing their son home, they found out they were pregnant! Now they have a (adopted) nine-month-old and are expecting their second child any day now! Boy, are they going to have their hands full, ha, ha."

Okay, so this one hits especially close to home as well. This urban legend is at the core of my husband's family lore. Absolutely true story. My mother and father-in-law were trying to get pregnant for years with no luck. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong (and of course this was in the late 60's/early 70's so there weren't really any infertility treatments as we now know them). So, they decided to adopt. Well, they were lucky enough to adopt Mister, my husband (hey, I'm biased). And of course, (you know how the rest of the story goes) my mother-in-law discovered a few weeks later that she was pregnant. So, Mister and his brother are 10 months apart. A couple of years later my mother and father-in-law welcomed a third child, my sister-in-law. My mother-in-law jokingly says all the time, "Oh, our first child (meaning Mister) was so eeeeasy. If M~~~ (their bio son) had been our first, we probably would not have had any more children, ha ha ha."

This is so hard. First of all, because the decision to adopt should NOT be because you hope it will help you get pregnant. That is just twisted. It's totally unfair to the innocent child you will be adopting. I have actually had very (normally) sensitive friends say to me, "Why don't you just adopt--then you will get pregnant!?" COME ON!!

In a way, I feel like I am sinking under the weight of these home-grown family legends. Both my mother's and Mister's mother's. I wonder if everyone is just sitting around waiting for me to fulfill some sort of pregnancy prophecy. Or, maybe I'm just paranoid. But, either way: We've had baby boy for 2 months, and I'm not running off to the store to buy any pregnancy tests or anything. (Of course, we're not even TRYING at this point, but that's another post).

I know people mean well when they whip out these stories. Somehow they feel like the power of the stories will (I don't know?) 1. give us hope. 2. ease our pain. 3. come true. In a way, it's sweet: They want these myths to become our truths. I know our friends and family hurt to see us hurting. They mean well. They just don't understand how hard it is to have these stories and anecdotes circulating and creaking around in an Infertile brain. For me, every year closer I get to the age my mother was when she had me, the more I lose what little hope I'm still holding on to that it might happen for me, too. Each month that passed after my miscarriage without another pregnancy made me more and more furious. We are so desperate for anything to give us hope (or at least I was) that we cling to these stories (even while dismissing them outwardly). It's true. We can't help it. (Or at least I can't help it. I guess I should just speak for myself, here.)

I guess I'm myth-proof. If an urban legend regarding pregnancy exists, it is sure not to come true with me.

Stay tuned for Part Two of this post, titled: The Stupid Things People Say to You When You Adopt.