Strange Things Are Afoot

Life with an infant for the past three and a half months has definitely changed things in our lives.

Well duh, I knew things would be different. I knew things would change. I knew my days of sleeping in and playing 5 hours of Harry Potter Lego were long gone.

Do I miss playing Harry Potter lego on Wii? Sure. Do I miss the frustration of waiting for a match or simply to hear from our agency? NOOO!

About a month into caring for our daughter I started to notice some interesting things. I was starting to lose the curl in my hair (I have naturally curly hair...or HAD it). At first I thought it was because I straighten my hair a lot, but usually if I stopped straightening (really, who has time to straighten their hair looking after a 4 week old?) the curl in my hair would come back.

She is three months old, almost four and my curly hair has not returned. So I've gone back to straightening my hair because my almost curly hair just looks frizzy and awful.

Another odd thing, since the placement in October, my cycles have been regular and I think I ovulated on my own for the first time ever. Did I do anything about it? NO.

I'm not sure how I feel about my cycles regulating. Maybe it was a fluke two months in a row. I know I should be happy. I know I should be ecstatic that I ovulated on my own for the first time in 10 years. I know some of you want to throw rotten fruit or a few choice words at me that I should be happy and just suck it up.

But I'm not happy. Dont get my wrong, I'm thankful my cycles are regulating without help. It just doesn't make sense to me why NOW, of all times, my body is starting to cooperate.

Michael (and a few other people) have told me that it's my "mommy hormones" that are kicking in and changing things, like my curl, and my cycles.

Can that really happen? 

I know I should be happy about this, but the timing is all wrong. I can't even think about a second child right now.

But what if a year from now I "miss the train". UGH! I guess I can't worry about that now.

In other news, things are going good. Miss A is trying to sit up, is enjoying tummy time more than last month, and is loving her activity gym. We are currently struggling with naps. She sleeps through the night (don't hate me), but daytime naps are a bit a of a challenge right now. I'm hoping it's just a phase. She will fight me to go down for a nap, but I know she is tired. I'm trying to be super vigilant about her not getting overtired so I'm putting her down after only being awake for an hour and a half. I'm hopeful things will improve. I think this just might be something I need to teach her how to do.

Update on the last 74 Days

The last 74 days have been a whirlwind of emotions and events. Two days after I wrote this post, something interesting happened. Something wonderful that we have been waiting for finally happened. We got "the call" from our first agency (the one out of state).

A young woman had given birth that morning and hadn't made and adoption plan (though she had all intentions of making one, she thought she had 3 more weeks to make one). Her doctor told her about an agency he knew (our agency) and called them. Two representatives from our agency came over with LifeBooks for her to look at. Her criteria: 1) An infertile couple, 2) a couple that have been waiting the longest.

There were other books in that pile, but we were told that she kept referring to our book. She liked that we lived in CA and that we like to travel.

So we dropped everything and flew to Tulsa, OK.

We didn't sleep well that night. We were in such a daze, I'm surprised we were able to book our flight.

When we arrived at the airport L from our agency was there to pick us up. She gave us some information about the birthmom. I think I was in the mentality that we were "auditioning" to be the adoptive parents.

We arrived at the hospital and meet K, the birthmom...our birthmom, and I have to say that after only conversing with her those 20 minutes, I felt like I had known her forever. There was an instant connection with her that I didn't feel last year with J.

We talked about names and she loved the name we picked out, so she let us name her.

Then they brought the baby in, and I was encouraged to pick her up and hold her.

I was estatic and scared.

It was awesome, even when she started crying as I disturbed her sleep, jostling her in my shaky arms.

I held her close, whispering to her that I was happy to meet her, and apologizing to her that I didn't sound or smell like the woman she had been getting to know for the last 9 months. She quieted in my arms after a while. I didn't take the crying personal.

The hospital had arranged a room for us. We were told that K wanted the baby in her room for a few hours, but that we would have the baby in ours for the rest of the night.

It was a very surreal couple of hours.

It still hadn't hit us that we had been picked to parent this baby.

1 day old


 

 

Our new daughter Ariana* was born on October 5, 2012 weighing in at 6 lbs 14 oz, 19 inches long. While staying in Tulsa until K's court date and the ICPC was completed, A faced some health challenges that forced us to have her re-admitted to the hospital. She stayed there for 10 days, but made a full recovery amazing her doctors and nurses.

We came come on Nov 1st (yes, we stayed in Tulsa for nearly a month), and life with a newborn has been both challenging and amazing. I wouldn't trade it for anything.



1 month old - 8lbs 2oz.

She really is a good baby. She started smiling really early and while others told me they weren't social smiles, I like to think that she smiled just for me. She will let you know when she is hungry, and if she has a very dirty diaper.

2 months old - 9lbs 4oz.

Because she was a preemie (born 4 weeks early), she is still a bit tiny for her age. She still fits into Newborn size onesies, but because her legs are so long, she fits into the 0-3 month pants and pjs.

I love when she smiles at me and follows me with her eyes. I love to hear to coo and gurgle at me when I'm talking to her.

I am thankful that she is our daughter and I love being her mom.


*I will refer to her in future posts as "A".

She Turned a Year Old Yesterday...

It's a date I shouldn't remember, but I do.

I wish my brain could forget it, but it can't.

She was almost ours; she was almost our daughter.

I hate that I remembered her birthday.

I didn't want to say anything to Michael. I didn't except him to remember, and I wasn't going to hold it against him if he forgot. I was actually avoiding him, because I didn't want to tell him why I was sad. But when he asked what was wrong, I started to cry and said,

"She's a year old today."

"I know. I know it's her birthday."

Hearing him say that was like a breath of fresh air. I felt so reassured that he remembered too. I didn't feel so alone in my grief. I started to cry in earnest. Telling him that I need to forget this date. It's not healthy to keep remembering and holding onto something that is not mine.

I have to let her go if I'm to move onto to the next match, whenever that may be.

Happy Birthday, baby girl. Wherever you are, I hope you had a great birthday yesterday. I need to stop thinking about what our lives would be like if you were in it. It's not healthy for me to keep wishing you were here with us. It's not good for me to remember how old you would be each 3rd of the month.  I'm sorry things didn't workout. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to be your mom. Have a good life. Be a good girl. This is goodbye.

Love,
Jonelle

The Security of a Routine

I have realized over the past couple of weeks that I like having a routine. It might seem boring to others, living by a routine, but I have found that there is a security that a routine provides.

Routines are predictable, you can foresee what you will be doing and that knowledge is comforting because there are no surprises.

I wasn't always like this. I used to like surprises, especially if that "surprise" was of the gift variety.

However, living with infertility and the struggles that come with it, the "surprises" I have endured over the past couple of years haven't been all that forgiving.

SURPRISE!! You have Polycystic Ovaries!

SURPRISE!! You will need fertility drugs to help you conceive!

SURPRISE!! That sharp pain in your abdomen, that's your tube rupturing!

SURPRISE!! Your very last IUI turned out to be a chemical pregnancy!

SURPRISE!! Your adoption match has failed!

I hate surprises. I hate infertility.

Lately for the past month, I've had to fit in a new task in my weekly routine - my new old job. Yes, you read that right - I'm back at my old job. Part of the deal in returning was that I would only work two days a week, Mondays and Wednesdays nights, no morning shifts, and no responsibilities.

So far all the terms have been met, which to my relief and sanity has made for a pleasant working experience. But this week I was asked to come in and work a short shift on Tuesday. I didn't realize that a short detour from my normal routine would throw me off so badly.

All day I felt a familiar tightness in my chest, and I was struggling to catch my breath. It was an anxiety attack, all because my routine got thrown off kilter.

I felt like a bit of an idiot getting all worked up over a wrinkle in my week. It wasn't a major change, I was only coming into work for an hour and a half. Big deal. But, why was I getting so worked up over something so little? Because there was a change to my routine.

I think its because I have found the value in the small routines that I have and the security and stability that they provide me. There are no surprises in them, only a predictability that I find comforting.

However, when it comes to food, I don't like routine, so at least there is some spontaneity in my life.

The Darkside of Procrastination

or How is an Adoption profile like a Horcrux?

For the last couple of months I've have been procrastinating getting our profile done and sent to our adoption agency. My brain has been constantly fighting with me about having to do the work.

In all honesty, I don't want to do the work. I feel like I've (we've) been doing the work for 9 years now to try to have a child and doing all the work hasn't done anything for us.

Part of what was fueling this feeling of anger, sadness and resentment was two friends of ours had recent placements within a year or less of waiting...and here we are going on two years and still waiting.

And it doesn't help that it's coming upon a year since our failed adoption and everyone around us is getting matched. Hating myself for being so angry and stubborn, I had some words with God, and naturally He won.

As gently as possible He revealed to me an interesting point: If I don't complete this profile and send it in, I can't honestly say that I did everything in my power, or everything that was asked of me (us) to further our endeavors to add a child to our family.

He's right. If I don't finish it, I'll always wonder what would have happened had I finished it. And not finishing it, would be giving up on this entire journey.

*sigh*

I finished our profile yesterday and sent it in.

I'm a harsh critic of things I do, and while I like the story part of our profile, I'm not excited about the finished product. However, Michael and two of our friends that I showed it to, like it. I'm just waiting to hear from our social worker to find out if there are any additions or corrections that need to be made.

I'm elated that this part of the adoption process is finished. I had such a hard time with it. It seemed like such a simple task, but I quickly discovered that it was not so simple.

My two friends, L and N were keeping me on task with this profile as they were eager to see it finished. One particular Monday, I was asked what part of the profile I was having trouble finishing, and that is when I started crying and ranting about having to do all this work, when I felt others didn't have to do anything*.

My new good friend N (who is a huge Potter-head and someone I get to geek out with every Monday morning about Doctor Who) said this to me in the midst of my tears, "It's [the profile] your Horcrux**. It's an object that you are having to pour your soul into, and that is hard to do."

Leave it to someone to use Harry Potter as a way to illustrate my difficulty with making an adoption profile.

So having poured my soul onto a piece of paper, complete with pictures was both exhausting and exilarating.

And now we wait...again.

*To my RL friends, I apologize for making this assumption. I know you each had your own struggles to add to your families, and I know it wasn't easy being in the midst of the struggle. I was sad when I said this, and I apologize for saying it.

(**Yes, I understand that a Horcrux is a dark object in the Potter-verse, but the sentiment about having to pour my soul into an object (profile) was spot on.)

Awkward Moments Strike Again

It's times like these that I feel compelled to wear a sign that says,

"No, I don't have kids. Yes, I want them, but after 9 years of trying, I haven't been able to have them, so I got cats instead."

I actually said this to someone upon being asked, "So when are you going to have babies?"

It was only my third day back at my old job (yes, you read that right. I'm filling in for my old boss while she is on vacation.), and I already had the Dreaded Question directed at me twice in one shift.

*sigh* WTFrick?

I sometimes wish I was quick enough to say, "beep! I'm sorry the quota of personal questions has been filled. To proceed further, either find a new topic of conversation, or pay a personal question fee of $50 dollars. Starbucks cards are also accepted."

Or I can skip the warning altogether and go directly to the personal question fee. I should charge a personal question fee.

After I said that to her, she didn't look me in the face. I guess I was too honest for her liking, but really, she had it coming. She only had herself to blame. If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard her, I bet you would have done the same.

I work again tonight. I'm hoping my Sheild of Sarcasm and wrist cuffs of Snark will repell any incoming jabs at me.

An Apology to My Readers

I haven't been a good blogger. Mostly because there really isn't anything to post about because nothing, and I mean nothing has been happening.

We switched agencies, but I haven't had the time to make a profile yet (which is on me and no one's fault). Haven't heard anything from the other agency, which isn't so unusual.

I feel like the only thing happening right now is a constant trigger of sadness and anger. It comes and goes in waves. Some days, weeks I'm fine, and then it all seems to hit me all at once and I'm a crying, blubbering mess.

Its been nearly a year since the failed match and you'd think I'd be over it. I know I can't put a timeline on grief, but I feel like I should be able to.

There are so many thoughts running around in my head, which makes it hard to post things. Also, I feel like whatever I post is about me being angry, feeling forgotten, and not being able to control outcomes.

So an update:

We're still infertile.

We are not trying.

We are still waiting to hear about another match.

People around us are having babies, or being matched with one.


I see the pointlessness of me being angry about something that I have no control over. I understand that being angry doesn't get me anywhere, and overall directing my anger at God is exhausting. I'm just so tired of the struggle, of the work it has taken to try to achieve parenthood.

Its close to 9 years trying to have children and I'm so tired. When will our turn come? Will it ever come?

This is what has been going on with me, and what has been consuming my thoughts.

ETA: I'm not angry at a particular person. If I'm angry at anyone, it's myself (which is a whole different post).