I Choose Us

Have you ever seen the movie, The Family Man? It begins at an airport with a dramatic good-bye scene between a boyfriend and girlfriend. He was planning to move overseas for a year to intern at a company. Then, he would return and they will be together. That is the plan. She desperately wants him to stay. In the scene, she asks him to forget their plan. In her plea she says, “I choose us”.

This quote is the theme throughout the movie. Both Ryan and I really enjoy the movie, and watch it on occasion. Every once in a while we will joke with each other and someone will say dramatically, “I choose us”.

Over the last 6 years, I have been dedicated to beginning a family. Many of my decisions were directly related to this goal. I purchased a ‘family friendly’ vehicle (and when that one wore out, I purchased another). I chose a career that I enjoy, but also has an awesome opportunity to work part-time and from home. We bought a house.

During this time, I would freak out a bit inside when we would spend money on recreational things. I couldn’t fully enjoy it, as I felt any unnecessary purchase was pushing my dream of parenthood further and further away.

But now, I am starting to see things a bit differently. We received a tax refund this year, and anticipate another next year. Together, these refunds could pay for 3 fertility treatments, or put us 1/3 of the way towards having enough money for adoption. It’s possible this money could be what I need to begin my family.

But then I look at Ryan and all he has done for me, and for us. We will be married 10 years next year and, in all that time, we have never taken a ‘real’ vacation. We haven’t flown somewhere new or gone on an adventure. Over the last 10 years we have had ups and downs and everything in between. We’ve worked hard and accomplished much. Where’s the reward? What about us?

I have spent so much time and energy trying to ‘start’ a family, I nearly forgot about the family I already had. Yes, Ryan and I are a family and (someday) when the kids are grown and gone, it will just be us again. We were a family first. Having a baby doesn’t make a family, it just adds to it.

I have decided that we should use that money to take a fun and romantic vacation, just Ryan and I. By the time we go (next year), we will have gotten ourselves in financial order. Once we return, it is back to the task at hand: beginning our forever family. I plan to jump head first into the baby world and I have faith in the process. Should pregnancy happen while we wait, then that is wonderful. If not, we will always have the memories of this vacation to look back on.

I don’t know what the future holds. Perhaps sometimes you need to forget the plan. There is a lot I am unsure of. What I do know is we will have our family someday.

But, in the meantime, I choose us.

Dreams and Signs

You would think that since I have been living, thinking, breathing baby over the past 6 years, I would have had many dreams about pregnancy and motherhood. Surprisingly, I haven't.

I remember the only time I have dreamed about children. It was 2004 and we had been trying to conceive for about 6 months. I had a really vivid dream where I was a mother to a newborn baby boy. It felt so real, that I shot up in bed and looked around for him when I woke up. I remember thinking how strange it was that I dreamed of a boy, as I have always thought my first baby would be a girl.

Since that time, I haven't dreamed about anything parenthood. In the last two years, I haven't dreamed much at all. I'm not sure why, but over the last few months, I have begun dreaming again; many, many dreams.

Last night, I dreamt again about a little boy. This time, he was about a year old. I was laying on the floor and he crawled on top of me. He grabbed my shirt at the shoulders with his pudgy little hands and hugged me, resting his head on my upper chest.

I remember what I felt at that moment: a pure sense of joy. The kind of joy I haven't felt in a long time. Pure happiness.

I wasn't sad when I woke up, just wistful. But I dismissed the dream quickly, got ready for the day and headed to church.

In church this morning, the speakers spoke about signs. One thing that was said today was that signs are not to give you faith, but to reward the faithful. You can't demand a sign from God to prove Himself to you, but He can choose to reach out and touch you, if He sees fit. As they talked, my thoughts wandered to my dream.

I am not saying my dream was a sign. What I do think is that instead of dismissing it, I should take it as a tender mercy from God. It was a glimpse of what may be in store for me someday. When you've spent the last 6 years climbing the mountain of infertility, it's sometimes nice to see what might be waiting for you on the other side.

In Pursuit of Happiness

In January 2009, Ryan snapped this picture of me in a hotel room in Costa Mesa. He was in a two-week training course for work and I had come down to visit him. I like this picture because I think it's a fun close-up. I have used it for various 'profile pics' and the like.

But there is an interesting aspect about this picture that only I think about when I see it. These eyes contained a lot of pain. This picture was taken days before I finally sought help from my doctor. During the trip to see Ryan, I didn't really want to leave the hotel room. Here we were together in beautiful SoCal, all expenses paid, and I felt most comfortable in bed in a tiny, dark hotel room. I spent an entire night of the trip crying next to him while he slept. And I mean an entire night. Although I was pleasant towards him, I was miserable inside.

Months have passed since that time.

Recently, a dear friend and up-and-coming photographer, Isa Sabey offered to take some pictures of us. We hadn't had someone do that for us in years. Here is one of the pictures:

This shot is one of those 'candid' ones Isa snapped when we were laughing at something or other (probably at how awkward we felt having our picture taken).

When I look at this picture, I see a woman who is happy. It has been said that the 'eyes are the window to the soul'. Well, to me, I can see a sparkle in these eyes that has been missing for a long time.

People say a result of seeking help for depression is that you feel like yourself again. Over these five years of dealing with infertility, I had forgotten who I was. I feel like the Michelle from years past. I actually like myself again.

In high school, I was told that I 'always have a smile'. My drama teacher would laugh at me because, even in the most dramatic scene, my eyes were always twinkling. She said, no matter what my face was doing, it was impossible for me not to look happy.

I wouldn't say I'm at that point yet, but I am getting there. I find myself excited about life.

Two days ago, I bought myself a designer purse. The significance of that? Well, for years I have told everyone how much I hated shopping. I don't remember the last time I bought myself something nice. I would go clothes shopping, but refuse to try anything on. Looking back, I realize I didn't really like myself. Not only that, but anytime I (or Ryan for that matter) would purchase something, I would feel that it was pushing my dream of motherhood that much further away. I allowed myself no joy in treating myself unless it was directly related to my goal. The only exception was food. Food was now my comfort.

How things have changed! I find joy in so many things now, including the occasional purchase of something nice just for me. Many people talk about 'retail therapy', but it turns out I only like to treat myself when I feel good.

I could go on and on with the changes happening around here. I could talk about the many times I have turned to Ryan in amazement and said, "I just feel so happy". I can say that I have gone from crying several times per day, to twice in 2 months, and both of those were spiritually related.

The point is that now I feel I can see infertility for what it is, a hard and difficult trial that I pray everyday will have a resolution soon. But, regardless, infertility doesn't define me anymore.

I am a member of the LDS church. I love to cook and bake new things. I like to write. I am learning to be a financial planner and have the best co-workers in the world. Autumn is my favorite season. I work with the teenage girls at church and love it. My favorite smells are the mountains, chopped cilantro, and freshly baked cookies. I like to go camping and visit big cities. I love my kitties and talk to them like they are people. I like the color green, but I don't look good wearing it. I am a wife, daughter, sister, aunt and friend, who longs to also add "mother" to that resume someday.

I still feel sadness when I think of our empty house. I still have days where I don't want to talk about babies or pregnancy or adoption. I still hear the ticking clock in the background and hope I can start my family before it's "too late" (whatever that means).

But I also feel happy. Every day is a pursuit of happiness now. And most days I am winning.

Why Don't You...

A recent anonymous commenter asked me to consider becoming a foster parent. This is one of many 'course of action' questions/comments I receive often.

A recent article I posted on this blog explained the caution one should take in suggesting advice to an infertile. Most likely, we've heard it many times before. We are aware of the options, and are pursuing the course of action that makes the most sense for us in our lives at this time.

However, I have chosen to expose myself and my life on the Internet. In doing so, I understand that well-meaning people will give their opinion. And, since I seem to get the same suggestions often, I feel an explanation on a few of them from my point of view might be helpful. We'll start with the suggestion given most recently by a commenter.

1. Why don't you become a foster parent?

Even before we had decided to start a family, I had the desire to be a foster parent someday. I think Ryan and I would be great foster parents. We have the ability to love a child instantly, we are both patient and loving people, and I think opening up our home to a child in need would be fantastic.

Unfortunately, I have seen into the world of the foster care system and I know the difficulties that are there. My parents, as well as other relatives of mine, have fostered children before. Typically, the goal for the foster home is temporary placement. The county aims to return the child into the arms of their biological family, if at all possible. I have seen the devastation on the face of a foster parent when the child they have loved is removed from their home. It doesn't matter if you knew that was a possibility all along. It is still really, really hard.

Sometimes, foster parents are able to adopt their child, but this is not usually guaranteed.

Having said that, I also know that great joy can come from being a foster parent, and I wouldn't rule it out completely. But my wanting and yearning to be mother is so great, I am simply not strong enough to sign up for that kind-of situation right now.

I am looking for a forever family. I hope one day that could include foster children as well. But at this point, I would need a strong indication that they could be mine forever before I would pursue that path.

2. Why don't you use a surrogate?

First it should be noted that using a surrogate costs tens of thousands of dollars. So, this suggestion shouldn't be made lightly. You are talking about a major financial burden here, and one that many simply couldn't afford.

That being said, in my case, I believe pursuing a surrogate would be jumping a few steps ahead in my treatment plan. My understanding is that a surrogate works well for women who have chronic miscarriages, who have difficulty carrying a child. I have never been confirmed pregnant, so I have no idea whether I could carry a child.

If I end up able to become pregnant, but unable to carry the child, I would personally adopt rather than pursue a surrogate. I don't feel a strong need to have my own genetic child. I, myself, am adopted so I am very open to that!

Unless things were to change drastically, I don't see myself searching for a surrogate any time soon.

And, no, it is not funny when other women offer to carry your child for you. And it sure isn't funny when men offer their wife for this purpose either.

3. Why don't you just adopt?

I have no idea what causes people to automatically add the word 'just' before the word 'adopt'. Do people not know the massive emotional, spiritual, financial, and mental undertaking that adoption is? If not, I'd suggest reading this article again.

I mentioned in the last question that I am a adopted child. I love adoption. Whether I have biological children or not, I hope to adopt someday.

But unless you plan to give me $10,000 to adopt, please don't nonchalantly suggest it, and wonder why I haven't done it already. It is horribly expensive, and I am bitter enough that money has delayed parenthood for years. I don't need a reminder.

And, just for the record, only 2% of adopted couples go on to have biological children. So, if you are planning to suggest adoption as a way to achieve a miraculous pregnancy, I would re-think that thought. Adoption is beautiful way to create a family, not a means to an end.

4. Would you do IVF?

Not sure. For a long time, I said no. IVF averages $12,000 or more. I always thought I would adopt before pursuing that type of treatment. However, now I'm not willing to say one way of the other. Through prayer, Ryan and I will decide if this is something we want to try at one point.

5. Would you live childless?

I don't see how I could do that. I know women who have: strong, beautiful women. But it is just not something I can see for myself. I understand that, at some point, I might not have a choice. But that thought is devastating to me right now, so I refuse to even acknowledge it.

Sisterhood Award

Chhandita at As Good As It Gets has nominated me for an award:

I am so honored that she thought of me and my little blog. :) I am blessed to have found real women out there who love and support me, and I them. TTC is a crappy journey to be on, but I am comforted that we share it together.

Thank you!!!

This is how some hubbys comfort their wife...

Sometimes, I complain to Ryan about our infertility. Many of these times, I will wish he had responded differently to my complaints. I have seen and heard stories of how other men had supported their wives, and wished Ryan could react in that way.

Over time though, I have learned that Ryan's method of support is (most of the time) exactly what I need. Although I think I want to be babied and coddled, what I actually need is to laugh.

Last night, we had a dinner for the ladies in my church. I was at a table with all the young moms. I, of course, was the only one there who wasn't a mom. We played a game in which we had to find a woman in the room who matched different criteria. I was mistaken (as I usually am) as a 'newlywed', or 'someone married less than 2 years'. People thought I would match that criteria. Why? Because I have no children, people automatically assume that I am newly married. Over time it's become quite amusing to see their face when I tell them it will actually be 9 years in August.

Anyway, I digress.

I had a fun time last night, really I did! But I still came home a little blue. Sometimes it's hard to be so different from everyone else in my age group.

I was expressing this to Ryan while he was on his way out of the house to leave for work. As he was climbing in the car he paused, and said in a firm voice,

"Go in there, put your PJs on, turn on the Food Network, relax on the couch, and think about all those moms out there trying to get their kids to just go to sleep!"

So... I did!

And that, my friends, is how some hubbys comfort their wife. :)

Hope Springs Eternal

I am in awe of the power of hope.

It has been nearly six years since I started trying for a child. This means approximately 75 cycles waiting, wondering, and ultimately being disappointed.

This cycle was a little bit late. I had every reason in the world to believe pregnancy wouldn’t happen this time. Why should this one be different than the 74 cycles that came before?

But that hope was still there. Smaller than before, harder to find, but impossible to deny.

Inevitably, it always ends the same, as reality rears its ugly head. I am fortunate that I don’t go through the entire grieving process with each disappointment, as I used to.

Instead I just marvel at the persistence and unwavering that is HOPE.

MY Baby

There is something I have always known, but has become all the more obvious as the years of wanting children have ticked by...

I don't just want a baby, a child. I want my baby, my child.

I firmly believe that our children are predestined to be our children. Somehow, someway they find their way to us.

I have a friend on my support group (I hope she doesn't mind I share this) who had begun the adoption process. In the beginning, she didn't feel a huge sense of urgency. All of a sudden, one day, she felt strongly that she needed to get their paperwork in order right now. It was an overnight realization, and from then on she was full speed ahead, even without really knowing why.

A short time later, they were pulled into their case worker's office. He asked if they had a crib. Turns out, a baby had been born and my friend matched the birth mother's criteria exactly. Before even getting their background check finished, they were to become parents. Now it was clear why the urgency was there. They needed to be ready for their baby.

Another friend recently adopted as well. I had known about the possible opportunity, and had felt a little sad that I wasn't in the position to pursue it. My friend did instead, and I felt a little jealous. Until I saw her baby. In that instant, it was obvious. This was not my baby, it was hers, and meant to be with them.

So, I know that there are special spirits meant to call me mom. The mystery is how I will find them and when. As time goes on though, I become more convinced that I will find them someday. Even though I feel a twinge of sadness or jealousy when I see others start their family, I try to remind myself that just because someone else becomes pregnant or adopts, doesn't mean I never will. They aren't having my baby. :)

My babies are still waiting for me, just like I wait for them, and I know they are worth the wait!

... the waiting is the hardest part ... So true, so true!