Birthmom Chose...

... another family.

And we're pretty bummed.

Our agency was very kind through the "rejection" process. They even told us a few details about the adoptive family the birthmom ended up choosing, to let us know that it really wasn't anything wrong with us that made her choose otherwise.

The baby's future family already has children. He'll have siblings. They live on a farm. They homeschool.

This is obviously not us. And at first, that was very comforting. Our childless home in the city just wasn't a fit for birthmom and baby.

But the more I thought about it, the more bummed I got. What an unfair disadvantage we have! And out of our control! We would be just like that family with several kids, homeschooling and living on a farm, if we could just get pregnant or just adopt already. We've tried nearly everything in our power to make pregnancy happen, and now we're working really hard to make adoption happen. So overall, it just left me feeling more like a failure than ever.

We are not yet the family we want to be. And the family who is everything we want to be just got chosen to parent the baby we've always wanted.

Sigh.

Ok, so I'm being a bit dramatic. Maybe we don't quite want to live on a farm. But I do want several babes. And I've definitely given some thought to homeschooling. AND I wouldn't mind owning a few chickens.

Double sigh.

This whole experience just leaves me with a bunch of WHYs.

WHY did we even show our profile? 

We told the agency we weren't going to really be ready until mid-June. So...

WHY did this "perfect" situation have to pop up?

We should have avoided hearing about this baby all-together. We should have just put our foot down and said: "No profile showing 'til mid-June!!"

WHY didn't God protect us from more heartache?

He already knows how much we've hurt in the past from all our failed cycles of TTC. Couldn't He have saved us from more heartache and just left this situation off our radar?

WHY do we never get a turn?

Are we going to be childless forever? Will we never get pregnant? Will we never be chosen? Will we never have our day of celebration and complete joy?

WHY did I let myself get so excited?

The agency was almost certain we'd be chosen. I could tell by what they said to us on the phone and through emails. My mother just knew this would be our little one. All of our friends and family were praying for us or thinking of us. We bought all the essentials. We just had a feeling we were finally going to have our day. And then...

WHY did she have to choose a family that already has children?

Ugh. Dagger to my already wounded heart.

WHY can't this just be easy?

I thought I had more control in adoption. I thought it would be less painful than TTC. Turns out I was wrong. This has just added to our sadness, anger, despair, doubt, hopelessness.

WHY must I find always find blessings in the most painful situations?

I just want to be a mom. Is that too much to ask?

Here are some more positive thoughts I'm having now, a few things I'm continuously telling myself so that I can feel better...

--That family the birthmom chose has definitely been waiting longer than us. Perhaps a very long time. It was just their turn. They are celebrating today. At least they have joy.

--Perhaps this little guy would have had challenges we couldn't have met. Or perhaps the adoption is going to get really complicated. I did ask God to place him with another family if it was going to be a hard ride. I'm clinging to the hope that us not getting this child was His was of protecting us. But I suppose we'll never know that.

--Other birthmoms will like that we don't already have children. Their little guy or girl will get lots of attention from us. And they'll like our home near the city. It'll mean that we are close to lots of museums and big parks and other fun family activities.

--Our friends and family have only been loving and supportive through this whole ride. I have leaned on many, especially John, since we found out yesterday. It's nice to know how many people truly care for us.

--I've learned how to better offer up my anxiety, stress, fear, sadness. Lots of you got prayers yesterday. Lots of you will continue to get prayers. I wish I could say they were selfless prayers, but they're not. They make me feel better. Thank you for letting me pray for you.

--This has all helped John to be more ready. We have not always been on the same page about adoption. I've always been the dreamer while he's been the one to bring me back to reality. He was very hesitant to show our profile. Attending the Empowered to Connect conference helped. Talking about where we see ourselves in 10 years helped too. And last night, after hearing that we were not chosen, he realized just how excited he had gotten, how ready he had felt. He was just as bummed as me. This "rejection" has helped him realize that he does really want adoption. And that's probably the best thing that's come out of all this.

So where do we go from here?

Well, we're back in the waiting pool. But instead of our agency having 3 other waiting families, now there are 2.

We now have time to take a newborn parenting class scheduled at our local hospital for the end of May. I was wondering how we'd get a chance to learn all those skills if we had matched with this baby due mid-May. So now I don't have to stress about that.

I think I'm going to take a trip home to see my family. We don't have to worry about staying put in Memphis anymore, so we might as well travel and see some loved ones before we do get matched.

I'm going to try to ignore the fact that we have a closet full of baby essentials and a crib set up in our spare room. It'll all get used soon, right?

And I'm going to keep trusting in God, as hard as that is for my human mind and heart to do. I'm going to trust that this little one really wasn't meant for us and that our day in the sun is coming soon. We will get to rejoice. We just have to keep remaining patient.

Sigh.

Mary Undoer of Knots, pray for us.

What just happened? (And some free prayers.)

WARNING: This post is mostly just a big glass o' whine.

Let me tell you, I think I have some cycles elves conspiring against me, because I don't think my last cycle could have been any more of a disaster!

It all started around peak time. I have trouble identifying peak these days because a certain type of man-fluid looks exactly like the peak-type stuff and I can't seem to get a clear reading on things. So, much to Dr. G's dismay, I use ovulation prediction kits (OPKs) to determine when I ovulate.

I was low on OPK sticks this cycle, so I knew I had to use sparingly. I thought I got a positive ovulation test, though it was a little hard to read. I just went with it and assumed, because of the ridiculous abundance of peak-type mucus I saw that day, it was probably right. Though, three days later I had some not-so-great, but pretty stretchy mucus a few times and because I had no OPK sticks left, I just decided it probably wasn't peak and I should just ignore it (and chart it as an 8).

So then, when what I thought was Peak+5 came around, I went and got my blood drawn. And again on Peak+8 (because Peak+7 Thanksgiving) and again on Peak+9. Just as the doctor ordered. But this time around, the guy who drew my blood was new and forgot to label my vials. So by the time I was ready to pick up my blood to ship it off, it was too late and we couldn't tell which vial was drawn on which day.

I figured that Dr. G could still use the samples, so I sent them off on dry ice like I was supposed to. I used FedEx Ground like I did last time because that got them to Dr. G's office overnight, which is what needs to happen in order for the blood to stay frozen and fresh. But, dummy me didn't realize holiday season = busy FedEx = package will take two days to deliver instead of one. Doy. I should have just paid a little more to have them shipped guaranteed overnight.

So the blood arrived warm. The dry ice had evaporated. And normally the lab won't even run the tests if the blood isn't fresh. But Dr. G convinced them to.

I arrived for my monthly follow-up appointment with Dr. G just in time to find out that of the three vials of blood sent to the lab, only one came back with results. And as far as I can tell, my progesterone was still normal and my estrogen was still low.

At this point, I was already 1 day late for my period, though I wasn't letting myself get too excited, because I was starting to second guess the day I had identified as peak. Dr. G offered to do a serum pregnancy test, but I quickly protested. And he agreed that that was probably ok because the numbers from the blood draw were not really indicative of pregnancy anyway.

Then he pointed at my overabundance of awesome 10KL (peak-type mucus) right around peak time, which made him say, "This is great because now we don't have to worry about Clomid messing with your mucus. It looks perfect." Which bummed me out because, like I said, I'm pretty sure I actually peaked 3 days later, on a day that did not have great mucus at all. And I tried to tell him this, but he was pretty convinced that I identified peak correctly. Sigh.

He said he'd like to start me on HCG injections on Peak+3, +5, +7, and +9 for this next cycle. It sounded good to me! Except, on the ride home, I got a call from the lab that sends the HCG and their machine that makes the HCG broke. It's fixed now, but they can't send out any HCG until it's tested and approved, which takes 3 weeks. Which means we'll be cutting it oh-so-close to when I'll actually be needing it. AND we may not even been in town by the time it arrives, right before Christmas. Which means we might not even get to use it this cycle.

And then my period still took two more days to arrive, which of course got me all too hopeful, even when I knew it shouldn't have. Because I had every sign under the sun that I wasn't pregnant. But still, when you've never had a late period before and then all of a sudden it's 3 days late, you get hopeful. Even if you are mostly sure that you misidentified peak.

Bah humbug!

So, to summarize:

• Hard to read OPK that made me think I ovulated.
• Ran out of OPKs when I wanted to test again.
• Misidentified peak because of silly OPKs and silly boy-fluid.
• Blood did not get labeled properly.
• Blood did not get shipped properly.
• Blood did not even get drawn on the right days because I misidentified peak.
• Only one of three vials of blood got results.
• Dr. G is convinced my mucus is good when it's not.
• HCG machine broke.
• Period was "late" (but not really) and I let myself get excited about it.

Let's say it again, all together this time: BAH HUMBUG!

I just don't get it. How could that much have gone so wrong in just one cycle?

Hopefully this means all the bad things are behind us and this next cycle will be perfect! Right? 

Also, you may think I'd be pretty down in the dumps about all this, but actually, I was only sad for about 30 minutes. So that's pretty great. I'm just sharing it now because I thought the shear ridiculousness of this past cycle was sure to make some of you laugh. I mean, it's pretty funny, right? That everything just went that wrong? 

Alright. Now that I have all my whining out of the way, I must say, I'm pretty excited to do the HCG injections this cycle (if they arrive in time). I'm hoping it's the magic touch! 

---

Ok, and now for something totally unrelated, but totally awesome.

I forgot to mention in my last post..

When we attended Mass at a lovely church in Hot Springs, the celebrant, who was a visiting Benedictine monk, asked us all to go to his Abbey's website and send the monks our prayer intentions. They pray 5 times a day and, if you send your prayers to them through their website or by calling, they'll pray for you and your needs by name at their services. How nice is that? John and I have already sent our intentions in, and I hope you will too! 'Cause what's better than a whole bunch of really holy guys sending up prayers for you? :)

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Yesterday was cycle day 1.

Yesterday was my cycle review appointment with Dr. G. 

Yesterday, I broke down in Dr. G's office.

He wants to meet with me monthly now to check in on the medications he's prescribing and how my body is responding. Last month was our first cycle post surgery and he started me on a low dose of Clomid. To check on my body's response to the new drug, he asked me to get blood drawn three times post-peak. At the appointment, he showed me that the Clomid likely messed with my post-peak estrogen because the post-peak labs came back showing low, low estrogen, which was never a post-peak problem before.

So, with this next cycle, we're upping the dose of Clomid to 50mg on cycle day 3, 4, and 5, using Robitussin and sustained release B6 for mucus production, and doing another round of post-peak blood draws to see if the increased Clomid dose is helping or hurting. And if post-peak estrogen is still looking low after this next cycle, we'll consider HCG for the following cycle.

I was fine with all of this information. It sounds like a great course of action and I'm ready to get going with it.

But then he asks me, "How are you doing? Seriously, how are you doing with all of this, emotionally?"

And up until that moment I had held it all together. Well, in front of him anyway. I mean, there was an extreme wave of sadness that came over me when, earlier in the day, at work, I noticed my period had started. And there were those angry tears I shed during the 1.5-hour car ride to Dr. G's office, alone, while in frustrated prayer. And there was the annoyance at seeing yet another extremely pregnant woman waiting near me in the waiting room at the women's clinic.

So I guess it was pretty inevitable that I would burst into tears the moment he asked me about my emotional well being.

It was pretty ugly and I let it all out. I told him about how I felt abandoned and forgotten. How much it hurts to see so many pregnant women or women with newborns around me. How I feel like a bad Christian for being so angry at God, knowing that He could fix this if He wanted. How I had all these dreams and plans for our family that are quickly slipping away. How I'm probably the most impatient person on the planet and none of this is helping me to be a more patient person. How we trust Dr. G and all that he's doing for us, but I really have no hope for any of this. How I want to remain hopeful, but it's so hard to do when we've officially been trying for a year and having nothing to show for it but some still messed up hormones and 4 surgery scars.

Ok, so maybe I didn't quite say it all like that, but that's the general message that spilled out, uncontrollably, and through tears and awkward high pitched cry-talk.

Then I apologized for unloading on him and told him if the appointment had been on any other day than cycle day 1, I wouldn't be such a mess.

His response was so sweet, and so patient. He told me not to apologize for my tears or my emotions. He knows that infertility is hard. Medically speaking, he said, it's probably as hard as patients finding out they have cancer or some other serious illness, because it's a loss of control over your own body and an unclear future. He encouraged me to find support, specifically through my Creighton teacher, who also struggled with infertility for several years, and through other women in our same boat. And he ended by saying he's still hopeful that we are likely to be able to conceive, it will just require time, time spent trying and tweaking different medications and treatments until my body is healthy enough to get pregnant.

There was no false hope in his message. He didn't guarantee a pregnancy anytime soon. He just suggested I find support during the hard times and understand that the solution may not be quick. He also said he's been praying for us and will continue to do so.

By the end of his response, I had pulled myself back together and was just grateful to be working with such a kind, caring doctor. On my way out the door, almost without crying, I told him how appreciative we are of all he's done for us.

Then I walked out of the office, unlocked my car, plopped down in the driver's seat, and promptly let the rest of the tears spill out all over the place. Turns out I had only done about 10% of the crying in Dr. G's office. My car saw the rest. 1.5 hours in the car of crying, praying, crying, frustration at bad drivers, praying, listening to the radio, and just wishing I was home.

I've recently started listening to K-Love in the car, the "positive, encouraging," Christian music station broadcast around the country. Though I have to be honest, the music is almost all up there on the cheesy spectrum and the messages can be a little too sugary and happy, happy, joy, joy, it's much better than the alternative of over-sexed, over-drugged, anti-Church messages that are blasted by pop, top-40 radio stations I used to listen to. So I made the switch about a month ago. And I have noticed that it has generally put me in a better mood, even with the horribly synthesized violins in almost every song and non-Catholic Christianity fluff that comes out from time to time.

So, on my ride home, I had K-Love on in the background. And they were interviewing some guy who recently wrote a book about facing tough times in your life. (I apologize now for my inability to remember the author's name and the name of his corny book title, but it's probably best I don't associate his information with the reflections I'm about to make, especially considering I only heard a small snippet of his interview.)

The hosts asked him if he could talk about the tough time in his life that inspired him to write his book. So he spoke about the time his dad was sick with a terminal illness and how, no matter how much he prayed, it never got better. And though it was one of the hardest things he's had to face, he realized two things from it. First, there's a difference between your plans and God's plans. Second, though it was heartbreaking to watch his father die, he finds peace now in being able to comfort others who are going through the same thing, the death of a loved one.

And, in my angry Stephie-state, I could only think one thing...

BUT HOW DOES THIS HELP ME NOW?!?!?!

Now, maybe it's just because I was extremely emotionally fragile yesterday. I mean, getting your period when you're trying to get pregnant is instant dream crushage, sole sucking, anger inducing, loneliness, and brokenness all rolled into one. Not pretty.

And I can say that pretty much on any other day of the month, I'm doing alright. I find beautiful distractions that bring me joy, I have a great husband who is so fun to spend time with and who takes great care of me, I pretty much love my job (I mean, there are always little things or people who'll drive you nuts, right?), and I know we're generally headed in the right direction with all this baby stuff and overall life.

But yesterday, and still a little today, I'm wondering, what do I do when I feel so low, so forgotten, so sad that all I want to do is crawl into a ball and cry and runaway and never face this pain and disappointment again?

Because I'm pretty sure "God has a different plan for you" and "This will help you help others" are the last two things I ever want to hear when I'm at that kind of low.

I wanted to say to Mr. Interview Book-Writer Guy TELL ME SOMETHING THAT CAN ACTUALLY HELP ME WHEN I FEEL LIKE I'M 100% SUFFERING! Not something that can help me after the fact, or when I'm feeling good enough to take in the "big picture" of this whole situation.

Because it doesn't feel right to spend several hours at work trying to hold back tears. Or to spend 10 minutes crying to your doctor about things he's already trying to help fix. Or to spend 1.5 hours crying and getting mad at a radio station.

Because hearing that God is with me and on my side and carrying me through it just doesn't feel helpful when I'm so totally angry at Him for not fixing something I KNOW He can fix!

Because knowing that it's all going to be alright in 6 months, 1 year, 5 years, 20 years from now does not help the me suffering right here, right now, in this moment.

So what do I do? What do we, sufferers of any emotional, physical, spiritual pain, do?

I tried prayer. I tried motivational radio stations and motivational music. I tried leaning on my husband. None of that soothed me. Prayers are unanswered, radio station doesn't get what I'm going through, and husband is hurting just as much as me.

The best I could do yesterday was distract myself, with guilty pleasures. An episode of Glee (I don't know why I even still watch that show), an episode of Parenthood, greasy pizza, cheesecake, and an episode of Doctor Who. Plus this sunset on my drive home from the appointment...

But I don't want to have to distract myself. I don't want to live the next 3 months or 5 years of my life just waiting and praying and hoping for something that's not happening, while I am forced to do nothing but distract myself from the one thing I really want. I just want to be a mother. Why is this desire written IN BIG, BOLD LETTERS on my heart if it's going to cause so much pain? Why do I have to suffer while others out there are getting exactly what they want as soon as they want it? Why does this one thing have to be so far out of my control?

I have no answers, my friends. Just questions. Hard to answer questions.

I'm so sorry to be such a downer. I'm sure tomorrow will be better. Thank God these lows are far and few between for me. Because I really don't like being an emotional and spiritual wreck.

Sigh.