Picking up the pieces

The last couple of days have been hard ones. Harder than I every imagined. I've cried a lot, both in private, with friends and with Grey. I've watched him cry too, which broke my heart all over again. I've bargained with the universe, had moments of sadness and anger. But mainly I've been kicking myself for allowing myself to finally feel some peace follow the first couple of betas. Though short, those few days where everything was progressing allowed me to feel that we might actually be able to move forward for the next few months. How foolish of me.

Today I went in for my final blood draw. When I called the clinic to find out where I could pick up my lab slip, I learned that Dr. Sage wanted to see me after my blood draw. I barely held it together in the waiting room, dreading seeing all of them again. But I'm glad we saw him. Dr. Sage examined me and confirmed that, though the pregnancy didn't last, there were good signs that this cycle had been successful. He told me that he thought it was simply a bad roll of the dice and encouraged us to take a month off and then to proceed with a FET. I have an appointment in 2 weeks with Dr. Optimism to check on my progress of recovering and to talk about the future. In the meantime, I've been ordered to rest, allow menstruation to start and to take care of myself. Both Grey and I received many hugs and condolences as we were leaving, reaffirming how lucky we are to have found this clinic.

The question, now, is how long do we stay on this path. The answer is different for everyone; some stop at IUI and immediately move on, others will continue with treatment for many years. There's no "correct" choice and I would never be naive enough to suggest someone take a particular path. Yet it's something, if you've been on this road long enough, that you'll start thinking about.

Last night, something shifted. A good friend took me out for some tea and we spent 2 1/2 hours of me talking/crying and her listening, followed by 30 minutes of her offering words of support and comfort. During our "conversation" it became clear that I needed to begin the process of resolving my infertility. I've been on this journey for too long and I only have a short amount of patience left for treatment. That's when our conversation turned to adoption.

A bit of background on Grey and I regarding this issue: we come from families with two very different view points on this issue. Grey's family is rich from adoption; his maternal grandmother was adopted, one of his cousins and even his eldest nephew. He's always viewed this process as a beautiful thing, as without it he would not have the family he has today. My family views adoption as a great option . . . for everyone else. Like many others in this country, adoption is very misunderstood and is seen as something only "broken" people pursue. And adopted parents are seen as substitutes for the child's "real" mother and father. Granted, this is never spoken outright. Hell, they'll even deny it! But this summer, this view-point became glaringly clear after my mother and aunt conspired to have me adopt my cousin's son after the state threatened to remove him from my cousin's custody. My mother's response to my reasoning why this wasn't a good option of "no child you adopt will ever truly be yours" still echoes in my head.

My view on adoption began to change when I first meet Grey's nephew. Though physically different from the rest of the family, this child was clear one of them. And it was infectious, as they demonstrated to me that love was not a conditional thing. When Grey and I were starting off our marriage, adoption was something we talked about, something to consider after we started our family. It wasn't until last year that I was faced with really analyzing this option that it became apparent it was something I really wanted to do. As I talked with members of my support group about resolving, I realized that no matter if pregnancy was or wasn't an option, adoption would be the path we would take.

Now I know that the road to adoption is a hard one. The process is filled with many different options (domestic vs. international, closed vs. open, infants vs. small children) and I'm more than aware of all the stories of heartache from adoptions that have fallen through, delays and even stress from the process.  In addition, there are many things that need to be considered within the next few months, if this is going to happen, and none of it can be decided overnight. But I also see the stories of those who have come out on the other side and see how much they love their children. The joy that is there in those families. And I want that.

So, here's our plan for 2012: We're giving ourselves 6 months.  We'll proceed with the FET and hold onto hope for pregnancy. But in 6 months, if our situation hasn't changed, we begin the adoption process. I've already looked into local agencies such as AMARA and Holt, but plan on spending time that I normally would worrying about a cycle on researching our options.

Tonight, we are saying goodbye to our two embabies. We will tell them, though they were with us for such a short period of time, how much we love them and miss them. Tomorrow, we'll begin picking up the pieces and moving forward.