just in the last couple weeks, it has really started to sink in that a baby is coming to our home by the end of January. (!!!) i typically keep a lid on the thrilling excitement, try to stay level headed about this. i've mostly been staying very non-chalant until the last couple of weeks, in "self-protection mode". the time has come though, it's time to nest. and I'm in full force.
the thing about nesting, when you don't have a big basketball under your shirt, is that it's pretty lonely... much more so than i project those with said "basketballs" are experiencing. sure, i hear complaints from my expectant friends about all the unwelcome touches to their tummies and questionably insulting comments and questions ~ "woah, you're ready to pop!", "are you having twins??", etc... to be honest, i think the tummy touches are a lovely connected experience (as a "tummy toucher", it's like a way to bless and send loving vibes to that precious life), and part of me feels like "we" are missing out on that. hopefully our little guy is getting it in his current community. and in addition, without that basketball.... making a registry and buying stacks of clothes and diapers kind of makes you feel like a "poser". i'm pushin' through it anyway.
a couple of stories, to futher illustrate the contrast here between basketball and non-basketball hostesses. a couple weeks ago a dear friend of mine met me at babies-r-us (is there even any other options? how'd they get the corner market on all things baby??) so that i could work on our registry. i had managed to do most of it online (to avoid the posing) but wanted to make sure some of the items selected online matched what i was looking/hoping for. anyway. this dear friend of mine is expecting a baby in february (big basketball) so you can imagine the experience we shared in babies-r-us... a plentitude of questions for her and questionable looks at me, as i walked around with the registry scanner. to be fair, once i talked to the customer service gal about how we were adopting, she was very accomodating and friendly (and she's our "go to" now, as jeremy and i have been back several times now to pick out the perfect stroller... they don't make them well for tall people, we're finding!). then, the other day i went to a local used baby store and picked up a bunch of lightly used newborn outfits - the sales clerk asked me "is somebody having a baby?" ~ and i replied, without hesitation, "yup, me!" (but felt i had to explain when she looked at my flat tummy). i have to say, i am proud of myself for owning this, finally, and yet, i guess there's something about the entitlement/status of the basketball-under-the-shirt that i'm missing, or envious of, just a little.
i've been telling people, more and more, that we're "adopting a baby in january" and as i do so, with less hesitation, and it's becoming more and more real. i smile more. i'm also able to accept the genuine excitement and well-wishes of random people in our community - sales clerks, receptionist, nurses, colleagues, facebook friends, etc. i've decided to just step in and be excited, regardless of fact that things could change. I'm gonna prepare for this little one who (we pray) will be entrusted to our care.
so, today it's saturday. our weekend goal: paint nursery.
thankfully, no funny looks or basketballs needed under the shirt to buy a gallon of paint.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
story behind the blog. part two.
so, in typical carla fashion, i jumped into this new mission. seminars, workshops, agency visits, library and internet searches, and borrowed books (coupled with advice) from friends who'd done their homework on adoption. we decided on an agency (recommended by said friends) and signed up to begin a homestudy. i remember those weeks/months to be full of anxiety (which we later discovered had been quite unnecessary anxiety) but so it is with walking into unknown territory when you feel you have to prove something to someone or some governing body, i suppose. in this case, "are we eligible to be parents". health records, physical exams, FBI checks, home and fire inspections, personal references, etc... i remember thinking - "this is more invasive than getting my greencard!"
the homestudy process also require us to answer a series of essay questions about our upbringings, our marriage, experiences in our pasts that shaped our values, our reason for choosing adoption as a way to build our family, our perspectives on discipline, our goals and dreams for the future... really a great process that all future parents should invest in, i'd imagine. i remember feeling a large weight of responsibility in terms of being "intentional" in starting a family - if we get the choice, shouldn't we be ever so careful. again, perhaps a process all future parents should pace out... but one i just didn't expect. why couldn't we be like every other surprised couple who finds out they are pregnant and all of the sudden has to make adjustments and changes to make it work. instead, we were set up for a timely and step-by-step expectancy that had no due date. "it could be tomorrow or two years from now" ~ neither a threat nor a promise.
we finally completed our homestudy around April, if memory serves, after some face to face meetings with a designated social worker. these meetings were the in person version of our essay questions, i suppose, but ended up being quite an encouragement to us. our social worker was able to provide some perspective about the emotional roller coaster of the process of waiting (as she put it) for our arms to be full. she was candid about the realities of what we were walking into, and affirming of the emotions we may experience. she gave us advice about how to relate to birth family members in the future, and shed some light on what kind of scenarios were possible. one story that she shared, i will never forget. she told us of a couple she had just worked with who finally receieved their first child through adoption. she shared that the couple waited exactly nine months from the completion of their home study to getting "their arms full", and it was evident that she thought that was the coolest thing ever. I smiled on the outside but on the inside i was thinking "nine months?! i hope it dosn't take us that long..." and alas...
nine months really IS a long time. April was only SEVEN months ago and i struggle to remember the details of all that happened. in our seven months since completion of the homestudy, we've waivered... our journeying has been rocky, challenging, often feeling uphill with no destination, or one that's seemingly unreachable. we were on one side of a cliff, seeing our dream on a completely different mountain. we needed a bridge (or helicopter!) to get there. more doctor's appointments, surgery, hormones, and IUI attempts... none did the trick. the feeling of hopelessness crept around, with every failed attempt. an emotional rollercoaster perhaps self-induced ~ but i don't regret any steps in the process. we didn't give up... (sure, we took little "breaks" along the way) , trying after our goal - to be parents... with what resources were available to us.
and so where are we now?
i suppose we're in the bridge building stage... having been "chosen" by birth-parents, we are working on the foundations of building a relationship with the birth-family members of this precious baby boy who is due in January. they will forever be a part of our lives, and we of theirs. this is a "bridge" we don't have an exact design for. how exactly will our families connect and interact? but i suppose it's one we will design together.
humbled and in awe of what all of this means...
what are the chances?
the homestudy process also require us to answer a series of essay questions about our upbringings, our marriage, experiences in our pasts that shaped our values, our reason for choosing adoption as a way to build our family, our perspectives on discipline, our goals and dreams for the future... really a great process that all future parents should invest in, i'd imagine. i remember feeling a large weight of responsibility in terms of being "intentional" in starting a family - if we get the choice, shouldn't we be ever so careful. again, perhaps a process all future parents should pace out... but one i just didn't expect. why couldn't we be like every other surprised couple who finds out they are pregnant and all of the sudden has to make adjustments and changes to make it work. instead, we were set up for a timely and step-by-step expectancy that had no due date. "it could be tomorrow or two years from now" ~ neither a threat nor a promise.
we finally completed our homestudy around April, if memory serves, after some face to face meetings with a designated social worker. these meetings were the in person version of our essay questions, i suppose, but ended up being quite an encouragement to us. our social worker was able to provide some perspective about the emotional roller coaster of the process of waiting (as she put it) for our arms to be full. she was candid about the realities of what we were walking into, and affirming of the emotions we may experience. she gave us advice about how to relate to birth family members in the future, and shed some light on what kind of scenarios were possible. one story that she shared, i will never forget. she told us of a couple she had just worked with who finally receieved their first child through adoption. she shared that the couple waited exactly nine months from the completion of their home study to getting "their arms full", and it was evident that she thought that was the coolest thing ever. I smiled on the outside but on the inside i was thinking "nine months?! i hope it dosn't take us that long..." and alas...
nine months really IS a long time. April was only SEVEN months ago and i struggle to remember the details of all that happened. in our seven months since completion of the homestudy, we've waivered... our journeying has been rocky, challenging, often feeling uphill with no destination, or one that's seemingly unreachable. we were on one side of a cliff, seeing our dream on a completely different mountain. we needed a bridge (or helicopter!) to get there. more doctor's appointments, surgery, hormones, and IUI attempts... none did the trick. the feeling of hopelessness crept around, with every failed attempt. an emotional rollercoaster perhaps self-induced ~ but i don't regret any steps in the process. we didn't give up... (sure, we took little "breaks" along the way) , trying after our goal - to be parents... with what resources were available to us.
and so where are we now?
i suppose we're in the bridge building stage... having been "chosen" by birth-parents, we are working on the foundations of building a relationship with the birth-family members of this precious baby boy who is due in January. they will forever be a part of our lives, and we of theirs. this is a "bridge" we don't have an exact design for. how exactly will our families connect and interact? but i suppose it's one we will design together.
humbled and in awe of what all of this means...
what are the chances?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
cour·age /kɜrɪdʒ/
noun
1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
2. Obsolete . the heart as the source of emotion.
idiom
3. have the courage of one's convictions, to act in accordance with one's beliefs, esp. in spite of criticism.
synonyms
4. fearlessness, dauntlessness, intrepidity, pluck, spirit. Courage, bravery, valor, bravado refer to qualities of spirit and conduct. Courage permits one to face extreme dangers and difficulties without fear: to take (or lose ) courage. Bravery implies true courage with daring and an intrepid boldness: bravery in a battle. Valor implies heroic courage: valor in fighting for the right. Bravado is now usually a boastful and ostentatious pretense of courage or bravery: empty bravado.
we've had to have a lot of courage over the last few years. i think we can feel both proud of and thankful for this. somehow we're able to keep moving forward. staying stuck or moving backwards are not life-giving options. i so want life. i also recognize that not all apparent "forward moving" decisions result the way you hope or expect. a lot of where we've had to navigate in this walk with infertility has felt like walking in the dark, in uncharted territory (at least for us). there have been "no guarantees", and despite hopes and plans, things do not always turn out the way you expect.
tomorrow is potentially a very significant day in the life of our future family, and to be honest, i'm feeling a bit more relaxed than i would think i would. i mentioned to a friend that the interaction we will have tomorrow is sort of like a "blind date"... but i've been on blind dates and i'm pretty sure i always felt a LOT more emotion prior to them than i'm feeling right now. i'm not sure if i'm subconsciously just guarding my heart, if God is doing that supernaturally for me, and/or if this is just all OK... and i have no need to be anxious. there are lots of potential things TO be anxious about - unknowns about the health of the baby, openness of the adoption/how we will connect with the birth family, our readiness to be parents, finances... but really i feel fine. we have prayed that God would just pave the way for us, if this is His intended plan for us. And I do trust that He will, that He cares for us, that He has a good plan. So... praying for continued courage for tomorrow.
1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
2. Obsolete . the heart as the source of emotion.
idiom
3. have the courage of one's convictions, to act in accordance with one's beliefs, esp. in spite of criticism.
synonyms
4. fearlessness, dauntlessness, intrepidity, pluck, spirit. Courage, bravery, valor, bravado refer to qualities of spirit and conduct. Courage permits one to face extreme dangers and difficulties without fear: to take (or lose ) courage. Bravery implies true courage with daring and an intrepid boldness: bravery in a battle. Valor implies heroic courage: valor in fighting for the right. Bravado is now usually a boastful and ostentatious pretense of courage or bravery: empty bravado.
we've had to have a lot of courage over the last few years. i think we can feel both proud of and thankful for this. somehow we're able to keep moving forward. staying stuck or moving backwards are not life-giving options. i so want life. i also recognize that not all apparent "forward moving" decisions result the way you hope or expect. a lot of where we've had to navigate in this walk with infertility has felt like walking in the dark, in uncharted territory (at least for us). there have been "no guarantees", and despite hopes and plans, things do not always turn out the way you expect.
tomorrow is potentially a very significant day in the life of our future family, and to be honest, i'm feeling a bit more relaxed than i would think i would. i mentioned to a friend that the interaction we will have tomorrow is sort of like a "blind date"... but i've been on blind dates and i'm pretty sure i always felt a LOT more emotion prior to them than i'm feeling right now. i'm not sure if i'm subconsciously just guarding my heart, if God is doing that supernaturally for me, and/or if this is just all OK... and i have no need to be anxious. there are lots of potential things TO be anxious about - unknowns about the health of the baby, openness of the adoption/how we will connect with the birth family, our readiness to be parents, finances... but really i feel fine. we have prayed that God would just pave the way for us, if this is His intended plan for us. And I do trust that He will, that He cares for us, that He has a good plan. So... praying for continued courage for tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
eligible?
jeremy and i completed a home study in april to be eligible for adoption. eligible to be parents? we had to complete parenting trainings that, probably, every parent would benefit from, not that they were all that informative. people just tell us all the time "nothing can prepare you..."
we are ok with that. we just want the opportunity to experience it.
if i had somehow conceived in april, instead of gone to parenting trainings, i would be about 6 and 1/2 months pregnant right now. i have a whole new appreciation for women going throught that long wait. april seems like forever-ago.
this week, we will be meeting an expectant couple who have chosen adoption for their child. they have read our "adoption profile" and asked to meet with us to discuss open adoption arrangements. a baby boy is expected to be born late january 2011. to think that he might get to belong with us... lights up my eyes and makes me hold my breath just a little.
we are ok with that. we just want the opportunity to experience it.
if i had somehow conceived in april, instead of gone to parenting trainings, i would be about 6 and 1/2 months pregnant right now. i have a whole new appreciation for women going throught that long wait. april seems like forever-ago.
this week, we will be meeting an expectant couple who have chosen adoption for their child. they have read our "adoption profile" and asked to meet with us to discuss open adoption arrangements. a baby boy is expected to be born late january 2011. to think that he might get to belong with us... lights up my eyes and makes me hold my breath just a little.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
story behind the blog. part one.
my name for this blog was deliberate. chance. what are the chances (that we would be in this situation)? what are the chances (that will come of this situation)? the unknowns are mind blowing at times. but truly i do have hope and wonder for how our story will continue.
so how did we get here?
on my birthday, two years ago, Jeremy and I visited a urologist who broke the news and indicated his suspicion that Jeremy may have a condition called Klinefelter Syndrome. His sperm count was ZERO and bloodwork was to be done at Mayo Clinic to examine the keryotype of his DNA to confirm the suspicion. We were referred to a genetic specialist and an endocrinologist for further medical care following the results which confirmed the diagnosis.
prior to the visit with the urologist, we had visited the fertility clinic (where i would later go through the IUI process) for the original semen analysis, per recommendation of my OB-GYN. (count, already 5 doctors on the case, each with their respective staff... so many people). my fertility doc gave us the initial alternatives for conceiving a child, suggesting both the sperm donor list, and "snowflakes" (embryo adoption), planting those seeds in our minds (or... my mind anyway). the genetic specialist spoke to us of adoption and asked if there might be a suitable family sperm donor, in the case we might want to pursue a pregnancy. our quick reaction was "no way", and our focus became learning about adoption.
those initial many months seem like a blur. we were determined to walk boldly through the process and not wallow in the dark pit of grief and fear and pain. i remember feeling very connected with jeremy in our determination, but very alone in my own personal moments of sadness and loss. i tried very hard to be courageous, to not "blame" the feeling of emptiness on his biology. to find some kind of humor and wonder in the fact that God had put me (ME, the one who only ever wanted to get married and have lots of babies) with this man who was... sterile. I would cry myself to sleep.
we kept busy attending informational meetings, workshops, reading info packets on different adoption options, but we were blown in lots of directions (mostly by our own indecision i suppose), never seeming to get anywhere (still feels like that somehow!), and i was having a very hard time with the apparent fact that i would never have a pregnancy. still full of grief.
one weekend, I returned from a trip to visit old friends and came home to a new conversation - Jeremy had been thinking and wanted to ask his brother to be our sperm donor. I remember a smile coming over my heart. it felt like hope. but then all the thoughts of "implications" started, all the doubts, fears, and unknowns overwhelmed me. Months of conversations, pauses, trying to find alternatives led finally to a measure of peace that allowed us to proceed to "try" the idea.
"Directed Sperm Donors" have to go through a lengthy process of tests and proceedures before their samples can be used, so we were subjected to more waiting. In the meantime, I had to go through testing of my own to make sure I'd be ready for the fertility process. more roadblocks.
in September of 2009 I was scheduled for a test to ensure my fallopian tubes were open and ready for action. I went to the test thinking "this is a waste of money," assuming all would be fine. after one of the most painful medical procedures I had ever experienced, (and I had gone by myself, so I had only the radiologist - a colleague, to boot - to comfort me, which he didn't, really) I lay on the radiology table, tears in my eyes, but resolute. "OK. I guess we're adopting then". my doctor wasn't so quick to give up. he had me return the next day for a less invasive procedure to retest, in case the blocked tubes were only my reaction to the test (the result of muscle spasm). the second test had the same results as the first, and I left the clinic with a new focus ("get out of my way, infertility, i have mothering to do").
to be continued...
so how did we get here?
on my birthday, two years ago, Jeremy and I visited a urologist who broke the news and indicated his suspicion that Jeremy may have a condition called Klinefelter Syndrome. His sperm count was ZERO and bloodwork was to be done at Mayo Clinic to examine the keryotype of his DNA to confirm the suspicion. We were referred to a genetic specialist and an endocrinologist for further medical care following the results which confirmed the diagnosis.
prior to the visit with the urologist, we had visited the fertility clinic (where i would later go through the IUI process) for the original semen analysis, per recommendation of my OB-GYN. (count, already 5 doctors on the case, each with their respective staff... so many people). my fertility doc gave us the initial alternatives for conceiving a child, suggesting both the sperm donor list, and "snowflakes" (embryo adoption), planting those seeds in our minds (or... my mind anyway). the genetic specialist spoke to us of adoption and asked if there might be a suitable family sperm donor, in the case we might want to pursue a pregnancy. our quick reaction was "no way", and our focus became learning about adoption.
those initial many months seem like a blur. we were determined to walk boldly through the process and not wallow in the dark pit of grief and fear and pain. i remember feeling very connected with jeremy in our determination, but very alone in my own personal moments of sadness and loss. i tried very hard to be courageous, to not "blame" the feeling of emptiness on his biology. to find some kind of humor and wonder in the fact that God had put me (ME, the one who only ever wanted to get married and have lots of babies) with this man who was... sterile. I would cry myself to sleep.
we kept busy attending informational meetings, workshops, reading info packets on different adoption options, but we were blown in lots of directions (mostly by our own indecision i suppose), never seeming to get anywhere (still feels like that somehow!), and i was having a very hard time with the apparent fact that i would never have a pregnancy. still full of grief.
one weekend, I returned from a trip to visit old friends and came home to a new conversation - Jeremy had been thinking and wanted to ask his brother to be our sperm donor. I remember a smile coming over my heart. it felt like hope. but then all the thoughts of "implications" started, all the doubts, fears, and unknowns overwhelmed me. Months of conversations, pauses, trying to find alternatives led finally to a measure of peace that allowed us to proceed to "try" the idea.
"Directed Sperm Donors" have to go through a lengthy process of tests and proceedures before their samples can be used, so we were subjected to more waiting. In the meantime, I had to go through testing of my own to make sure I'd be ready for the fertility process. more roadblocks.
in September of 2009 I was scheduled for a test to ensure my fallopian tubes were open and ready for action. I went to the test thinking "this is a waste of money," assuming all would be fine. after one of the most painful medical procedures I had ever experienced, (and I had gone by myself, so I had only the radiologist - a colleague, to boot - to comfort me, which he didn't, really) I lay on the radiology table, tears in my eyes, but resolute. "OK. I guess we're adopting then". my doctor wasn't so quick to give up. he had me return the next day for a less invasive procedure to retest, in case the blocked tubes were only my reaction to the test (the result of muscle spasm). the second test had the same results as the first, and I left the clinic with a new focus ("get out of my way, infertility, i have mothering to do").
to be continued...
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