Just when you think you've got it all figured out . . .

Today I had an appointment with Dee. Following the news on Monday, Grey thought it would be worth mentioning to her what we learned about the agency we had chosen to see if she had any suggestions. Honestly, we both expected her to give me the this-is-the-way-things-go speech. So you can imagine my surprise (and delight) when she looked at me cross-eyed.

Dee: "16 months? Really?"

Me: "Yep"

Dee: "Why so long?"

Me: "No clue, other than a number of couples that had been on the wait-list for so long finally were picked. Oh, and they told us to hold off on the homestudy until after we move."

Dee: "Meaning hold off for a year. So, instead, the process would take you ~ 2 yrs"

Me (fighting back tears): "Yes."

Cue eye-roll from Dee.

Before I continue, I need to take a moment to again point out how amazing it's been to have a therapist who specializes in infertility/loss and adoption. Dee has helped me through both miscarriages and a failed FET. I shudder to think about where I would be mentally and emotionally without her help. In short, this woman is awesome. I really didn't think she could get much better.

And then I saw what came next.

Following recovering from her eye-roll, Dee launched into a lecture about "homestudy updates" and how this agency's reasoning was probably wrong. During this time, she fished out her laptop and opened up her contact list. After doing some typing, she looked at me.

Dee: "Cristy, have you and Grey thought about private adoption?"

Me (gulping): "Yes. But all the stories I've heard have been scary. The scams, the possibility for getting yourself into legal trouble quickly. The fail rates. We figured it would be better to go through an agency. Why?"

Dee: "Because I think you two are great candidates for it. It's faster, it's a bit more hands and, with the right people, it can be a very positive experience. Just as it was for my husband and me."

Dee then shared her adoption story with me. I knew she had adopted and is a huge advocate for the process. But I didn't know the details. When she finished, she pulled out her notepad and began to write. Within 2 minutes, I was staring at two names, A and P, and contact information.

Dee: "I've known A and P for 20 yrs. They are highly skilled and I think they've started an agency. Contact them. I think you and Grey would really enjoy working with them."

I spent the rest of our session alternating between laughter and tears.


Following my session, I texted Grey. Within 5 texts, he called me, surprised about the information. At one point, he asked if I was certain about my information. When I told him, "it's coming from Dee," he stopped and started to laugh.


This afternoon, both Grey and I got into contact with A and P (I called A and he called P). A and I chatted for 20 minutes and she asked if we would be willing to meet her in August. Grey talked with P and, in addition to sending him some resources, told him that she'd be more than happy to do our homestudy. 


So, as of today, we are no longer on hold. At the end of my session, I promised Dee that we wouldn't push the process and that we would also focus on healing. But now I feel like there's a purpose. 


Aw, life. How I love you. Let it never be said that it's been boring.

What's in a loss

Welcome to those from ICLW. First time visitors can find information on our journey under the TTC timeline. And for those interested in Fertility Socks, yes I'm planning another exchange for the very near future. Stay tuned. Brief background on me: 2.5 yrs on the TTC wagon with a diagnosis of unexplained infertility in January 2011. 3 failed IUIs, one IVF, two FETs and 2 miscarriages. I'm currently in the tail-end of our final FET prior to moving on to adoption. 


First off, we're back from our mini-vacation!! I've been drafting a post and will update you all very soon about our adventure (and for those who are wondering, yes there are photos of orcas). Thanks to everyone for the virtual swift kick in the bum to book the trip. It was very much needed.

Today, Grey and I had our first appointment with the marriage counselor. This past week, both of Grey and I have been reflecting on everything that has happened during the last couple of years. Infertility and the miscarriages, though a big part, hasn't been the only stressor. There's been work stress, home stress and stress caused by family. On certain days, I really wonder if I've been blowing all of this out of proportion, creating my own drama. That maybe I just needed suck it up and all would be okay.

Within the first few minutes of meeting David, both Grey and I were reassured that we were not drama queens. That indeed, we were dealing with a lot of external stress. That miscarriage isn't something one just "gets over." In short, he gave us hope by reassuring us that what we were feeling was completely normal considering the circumstances and he believes that we already have the foundation to emerge from this stronger, not only as individuals but as a couple. Our work is just beginning, but both Grey and I walked out of David's office feeling lighter and hopeful. We haven't fucked up our marriage beyond repair.

Some of David's observations made me reflect on loss. Not just whether something qualifies as a loss, but also how we as society respond to loss. Many people in my day-to-day life look at me in horror when Grey or I tell them everything we've been through. Mo recently wrote a very raw post talking about the train-wreak everyone wants to pity and how debasing pity is. I can relate a lot to what she wrote, as my losses are not simply restricted to my inability to conceive/ stay pregnant. I lost my entire family last year, with my mother making it very clear how worthless I am to her. I lost the safety of a home, being surrounded by neighbors with questionable character. I somehow managed to graduate only to be put into a holding pattern about my career due the economy and fertility treatments. And then I lost my embies due to not one, but two miscarriages. And, even now, I grief for my babies that I will never hold.


The problem with living as the train-wreak is two-fold: first is the pity. I'm completely with Mo on this one; I would much rather people actively hate me than pity me. Being the center of a pity party is such a debasing thing for anyone, but the added pain comes when people use you as a barometer for their own lives. It's the opposite of the pain olympics knowing that people are using you to lift their spirits. 


There's another level, though. People usually fail to see the beauty outside of the train-wreak. In May, I learned of another blogger, CGD. Over the past couple of months, I've followed her journey as she is navigating a divorce on top of infertility and an uncertain future. Her journey is a hard one, but the thing that continually shines through is her grace and strength. When I read her posts, I don't walk away thinking "wow, I'm so lucky," I walk away thinking "Cristy, you can do better." 


Today as I was commuting to work, I muled over the thought that maybe, just maybe, something good could come out of all of this. I've talked before about the creation of villians, wondering if all of this would break me leaving behind a haggard witch. And then I was broken, shattered into a million pieces. But, in place of the villain, I find that I'm slowly emerging just like the mythical Phoenix from the ashes. Somehow, I'm finding strength daily to move forward and a lot of that has come from finding others who understand, who write openly and honestly about their journeys. Not because I can feel better about myself, but because I learn from them that I can do this; I can do better.

On Friday I meet with Dee. We will continue to tackle my demons, but following the events from this past week, with new purpose. At 33 yrs of age, I have experienced more loss than I wish on any human being, yet I'm still standing. Still, this is not enough. I need to find joy again in life, despite the fear and the pain. If not for myself, then for Grey and our children, both the ones we lost and the ones we will find.

Heal

I remember the first time I really injured myself. I was 10 yrs old and riding my bike down a steep hill. Somehow, I managed to gain too much speed and was not skilled at being able to handle the incline. I ended up crashing, sliding along the asphalt. The pain was blinding. I managed to make it to my location, and as I began to clean myself up realized how much pain I was actually in. Panicked, I called my dad who came to calm me down and help clean my wounds.

In the years since, I've managed to injure myself in more interesting and memorable ways. There was the climbing accident that almost took my life, the large metal door that slammed down on my arm, the car accident that even the paramedics marveled about me walking away from and, finally, the skiing accident that left me with a black eye on Valentine's Day. You get the idea. One thing I've learned over time with injury is that there's a pattern: the initial shock from being wounded, followed by the pain setting in and me realizing how severe the situation is. Then comes the healing; the aches and pains of my body trying to regain normalcy. Sometime with healing it's just a matter of ice, a bath and some TLC. Other times more aggressive measures need to be taken.

Following the happy news last week that left me convinced the universe was out to get me, I realized that I needed aggressive measures to begin recovery from this recent miscarriage. What I had done up to this point as simply to bandage the wound and hope that healing wound come quickly. What I failed to do was remove the cause of this injury, causing the wound to deepen and begin to fester. So, with Grey's initiation, I agreed to meet up with one of his coworker Tina, her husband and 11 month old daughter E for brunch.

Grey has known Tina for many years and has always been on friendly terms with her. A few months ago, though, he learned that she too was infertile and had recently resolved. They began talking, Tina sharing her story and Grey filling her in on our treatments. The more I learned about E, the more I hoped that we could have a similar outcome of having such a happy ending. Then January happened. And then March. With this past news, Tina offered to meet up for coffee to talk. And until Sunday, I was reluctant.

You see, E is adopted. And though I've been open to adoption, it wasn't until Sunday that I was ready to hear her story.

Meeting E gave me hope. To see this little girl who came from a less-than-ideal situation be so happy, energetic and vibrant. And to see her parents completely in love and filled with joy. Tina looked at me at one point and with tears in her eyes said something that left me choking back tears. "There was a period where I had this hole in me. This child-shaped blackhole. Now I feel filled."

Following brunch, Grey and I began to talk about how we would do this. Meeting E made me realize that I want to go the open adoption route. I want to meet the birth mother of my child, forming some sort of relationship so that one day I can tell him/her about how they came into the world. But most importantly, I felt like we may have found our calling, our path.

Today I had my meeting with Dee. Like all of you, she sympathized about the news from last week, telling me "it must feel like the universe has shit on you." How true. Yet telling her about E and my feelings had her smiling softly. I think she sees how this fits too.

Our session was spend attacking the image of my broken body, helping me remove the IF/loss shaped knife from my heart and cleaning the wound. She helped stitch my broken heart back together, wrapping it lovingly with fresh bandages and helping me find my new mantra.

It will be okay. Some way, some how.

Tonight I feel the dull ache from this most recent wound, but for the first time in a long time I no longer feel despair. Mind you, I'm not brimming with optimism and hope that this next FET will work and we'll bring home a biological child. But I do have hope that there will be a child. My faith is restored in wrapping my arms around them and I find myself day-dreaming of that moment, that day.

CD4. Five more days till the SIS. Tami-scrambled at Submerged sent me the BEST socks to wear that that appointment. May they work their magic.

Thank you Tami!!!