Our Adoption Story

I started a post about the day we were Unchosen, but then I realized, I need to tell the beginning of the story, before I tell the ending. Besides, the beginning is my favorite part.

In January 2008, we were approved to adopt. I'll skip over all of the boring details and just skip to the best part. In October, 2009, we had a birthmom contact us through our profile on Parent Profiles.

We spent a few weeks just visiting back and forth through email. She was still considering all of her options, and we supported her taking her time. We tried to get to know each other and I spent a lot of time talking about adoption and what it means to me. We were excited, but we didn't dare get our hopes up to high until a decision was made. So we kept the secret to ourselves. I still get tingly just remembering the feeling of joy.

Near the end of November, she suggested a phone call. We were so nervous. We'd start to dial her number, and then hang up. I think we did that a few times. But once we made the phone call, it felt like we clicked. We visited for awhile and agreed it was time to meet. We set something up for the following weekend.

It was about a 2-1/2 hour drive to her house, but being the over planner that I am, we left 4 hours early so we could have time to find her home. Which really worked well because we got lost a few times. I had butterflies in my stomach the whole time. We arrived early, so we decided to just hang out in a parking lot until it was the time we had set up arrived.

When she opened the door, it felt like home. We had taken some treats with us for her family. We sat and visited with her family for a while. Then we headed out to take her to dinner.

We had decided to go to the Olive Garden, which was just up the road from her home. But because of road construction, we had to take a detour to get there. About half way there, a car started honking and pointing at us. We had a flat tire. I was so embarrassed! When we got to the restaurant, Josh had to hurry and change the tire. I just knew the night was ruined and she wouldn't like us anymore.

After dinner, we dropped her off and headed home. We were in love. She was (and still is) one of the most beautiful people I have ever met. I kept hoping she would have a little girl that looked just like her. And her soul was just as sweet. To this day, she still holds a piece of my heart.

We arrived home near midnight. We had decided we wanted to send her an email to thank her for letting us come visit, but when we logged on, we saw we already had an email from her. She loved us and wanted to choose us. There was literally no way to express our joy at that moment.

The next few months were the best months of my life. We tried to go out and see her each month. We went to see the Temple Square lights and went to various movies. One time, she had been excited for a particular dish, but when we went to order, we learned it was no longer on their menu. Josh begged the waitress to make an excpetion, just this once.

Once, when we were coming out of a movie, my mom was there. (I still find that very suspicious.) We hadn't talked about introducing her to our families yet, so it felt like we had been thrown into the fire. (Let's just say that some family members had a hard time with the boundaries we had set.)

In all the months of bliss, that was the only one that gave me bad feeling. I felt like we had thrown a surprise at her without telling her about it, but the problem was, we were just as surprised. It is defiantly the one thing I wish I could change. I still resent what happened that day and have always wondered if that is what led up to the ending.

But the emails continued and we set up plans to go visit again. We were even trying to work it so I could go to an ultrasound and learn the sex of the baby. In the end, she had to get one a little early, so they just did it then.

She was having a girl. We planned on naming her Ashlynn Celeste.

Dear Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,
I would like the chance to address your comment that you left. I'd like to say it gave me something to think about, but mostly it just made me want to share some thoughts of my own.

You said:

Listen, why don't you just adopt. It'll be infinitely rewarding. A human soul is a human soul, it needs nurture, love and support. If you give that to him, he will be your child. Any child you would've given birth to would also have been an individual, maybe nothing like you or your husband. Similarities in genetics or physical appearance eventually only brings you so much joy. What brings joy is seeing a child laugh because of something you did, seeing them do kind things, seeing them grow into the best version of themselves. Because of you. You have nephews, you know this. So go ahead and try and adopt, what's stopping you. There are so many children out there, so so many, that need loving homes and human influences in their lives. You can do that for them. Stop moping and go for it!

Is this your first visit to this blog? If so, can I recommend you read a few posts on this blog and my other blog?
Nobody Told Me

UnChosen
 (Just to point out a few, basically the start and the end. But that are some many posts about our adoption journey over the years.On both blogs.)

Also, you can just look at my sidebar on this blog to get a brief history of our journey.

My next question is, have you adopted your self? Or are all of your children conceived biologically?
Its really hard to answer your question without know that part.

If you have adopted, then you know what a hard, long, expensive, emotional journey it can be. In that case, I'm not sure if its passion that drives you to suggest we adopt or what your motive is. But I would think if you had adopted before you would be more understanding of my own decision.

If you haven't adopted, can I ask why? If you are so concerned for the orphans of the world, don't push them off on childless couples in hopes to ease your conscience. Go and adopt them yourself.  Then maybe you can learn what a hard, long, expensive, emotional journey it can be.

But really, I'm going to guess that you haven't adopted before, because one of the things infertile couples HATE to hear is "why don't you just adopt?" Its not like I sign my name on a dotted line and 9 months late I have a baby. If only it were that easy. (Again, I refer you to notice in my side bar we tried to adopt for years.)

I have stewed over your comment all day. I'll tell you now, I over think EVERYTHING.

My many thoughts today have included:

* "Hello, can't you see that we did try?"  To which you would refute, "You're just worried of getting hurt again."

On one hand, yes, I am terrified to put my heart on the line again. After being unchosen, I sunk pretty low. Not quite suicidal, but on the verge. So yes, to try again and have it fall through again, well, I'm honestly not sure I can do that again.

But I have found peace with what we went thru. That little baby did end up in a loving home. Maybe she would have all along. But maybe, because we were a part of C's life, we were able to help her decide on what she wanted to do.

*I could argue that money is an issue, but honestly, its not anymore. Because we are now older, we are now wiser with our money. We have established careers and have a better income. And if it still wasn't enough, we have offers to help us reach the goal of adoption.

But its not just about money. My heart just isn't into it anymore. I'm still an advocate of adoption. I wish more young mother's would consider it. I wish it was an easier avenue for childless couples to pursue. I wish the world had a better understanding of adoption. Not just the versions they see in the movies, or bad cases portrayed in the news. Most people who adopt, don't magically get pregnant a year later. Most adoptions go thru with out an ugly court case. But those are the things you don't see.

* You mentioned I know all about loving a child because I have nephews. Damn right I do. I love those little boys something fierce. I dare to say that their momma's love them most, followed by their grandma's. Right on those heals is their aunt Savannah.

They have healed the hole in my heart. Because of them, I was able to let go of the dream of becoming a mother.

* Do I mope from time to time? Of course I do. Does a parent who had a child die before them still mourn them years later? Or a family that looses their home to a fire? Or a person who lost a limb to an accident or cancer? Mourning comes in all forms for many reasons. It is a part of human nature. I believe a person can move on with life, but it still okay to grieve for what might have been or what was. I believe the grief cycle becomes less intense, but it never ends.

So yes, I still have my sad moments from time to time. But they aren't near as painful as they used to be. I acknowledge how I am feeling and then I move on. Those moments are pretty rare. I don't think 5 minutes of sadness means I need to jump back into the adoption world.

I may still be young enough to be a mother, but my heart isn't into it anymore. I'm sure you'll call it selfish, but I am at peace with my life.

However, if you feel so passionately about adopting, I throw your advice back to you.

Random Thoughts

1. One of the kids I used to babysit when I was young just had a baby. A few years ago, it probably would've made me cry. But instead, I just feel old.

2. Cramps are a *itch. Seriously. Why should I have to go through this every month since the main baby part doesn't work. Couldn't it all just "not work?" Right now I'm trying to remember why I take birth control so I can have a period every single month. Oh ya, back in November/December, my period lasted for 6 weeks. No cramps, but everything else. Not.Fun.At.All.

3. Yesterday I was browsing the Internet. You know how MSN and Yahoo, on the homepage, they give blimps of articles and news? I was looking at the MSN ones and saw one about infertility. I was kind of excited because I hoped it would help educate the world. I decided to click on it and see what they had to say. Deep down, my infertility still bothers me. Five minutes later I was in the bathroom trying to get a hold of myself and stop the tears that were threatening. Reading that article, which was well written, brought back a lot of emotions and painful memories. It was not fun to relive it. I guess infertility is something I will never completely get over. I was in a funk the rest of the day.

4. On the flip side, I've had a few friends finalize, or will soon finalize, and I'm so excited for them. Its nice to be at a point where I'm just happy for someone, without a side of jealous.

5. Love those nephews of mine. Can you say spoiled? On Saturday, I was in the city and I told myself I didn't need to buy them shirts, I already gave them stuff for Easter. So instead, I bought a box of bath toys. Yep, spoiled.

6. I got to watch Vanessa's boys for a few hours and loved every second of it. I hope to make that a regular thing. She has been so wonderful to let me be such a huge part of their lives. Valex is always excited to see me. I wish they could stay little forever.

Prayers for H

I've kind of developed a quite relationship with God. I know He's there (for the most part), but really, all I do is quick, quite prayers in my heart when I feel the need. But last night I poured my heart out to Him.

"Dear God, I know we don't talk often, but this is really important. I had a lady contact me about a possible adoption situation. Although, I did note the coincidence that the baby is due right around 2 years after we were unchosen, we are not pursuing adoption. So I told her we weren't interested.

But then I told her about H. Dear God, I love H so much and I want her to become a mom so badly. She would be an incredible mom. Right now all she gets to do is play mommy part time, but I want her to be a permanent mom. I want a child to come into her house and stay forever. So I gave this person that contacted me H's name.

Now they get to meet and see if there is a connection. Father, please let there be a connection! Please let them meet and instantly fall in love with each other. Please let this family choose H and then please let everything go smoothly. Please let H get to spend the next few moms as an expectant mom. That was such an amazing feeling for us and I want her to have that feeling too. And please, don't let it end like ours.

Please let things go well at the meeting. Please let the family choose her and her husband. Please don't let it end like ours did. Please let this be their baby they have longed for so much.

I haven't asked for much lately, but this would me the world to me. And to H. Please."

My friend H is meeting with the expectant mom and grandma today. Please send a prayer that it will work for them. I haven't needed God to answer a prayer like this in a long time, but I need him to answer this one. Please join me in praying that it will work out for H. God will know who you are talking about.

Time to let go

The irony is not lost on me that on our almost baby's birthday, I was decorating a birthday cake, for a different baby. I've tried to forget the fact that I have a nephew 2 days younger then our almost baby. I try to not think about the things our baby would be doing when I know he is growing and learning in the same ways. I try to pretend that it never happened.

But it did happen. A year ago a brave young women gave birth and then placed her baby with a family and in doing so affected so many lives. Sometimes I feel guilty for my pain, because I know it is nothing compared to her pain. I tell myself I have no right to hurt because she was never really my baby. But the chance at... almost, does hurt.

I have kept so many things inside because I'm afraid to share. Afraid I'll offend. Afraid that it will make the pain even greater. But I want this 1st birthday to be my last day of mourning. I hope after letting it all out, I can turn around, look forward and never look back.

It was so hard to loose a baby, even if it wasn't one we naturally conceived. I have a new level of understanding for those who miscarry. Loosing a baby is like having your heart ripped out. And then the world just walks all over your broken heart because they don't understand just how much it hurts. We never heard a heart beat. But that didn't stop us from loving and dreaming about a little girl to join our family.

A month after being unchosen, my mom called to say my sister might have to go on bed rest. Might. All I could think was "well, at least she still gets to have a baby in June. Who cares about some bed rest?" I was so mad after that, that I couldn't go to the Josh's annual family breakfast or Easter dinner. I ignored plans for a baby shower because I didn't want to think about my own baby shower I would never get.

The Internet is wonderful and terrible all at the same time. I knew the day the baby girl was born. The next day I sat in church and all I could think was "This is my first day as not the mom." I cried silent tears that no one could see. The next day while a birth mom signed the papers to make someone else parents, my nephew was born. I went to the hospital, but all I could think was, "I shouldn't be here. I should be holding my baby in a different hospital." And no one knew how I was crumbling inside.

I had days where I couldn't get out of bed it hurt so much. When we were first unchosen, Josh and I were in a loving moment when suddenly we both just broke down in tears. We couldn't even enjoy a moment of joy because the pain was so strong,.

One day while doing dishes, I fell to the floor and just bawled. Life was so unfair. It wasn't even worth living anymore, not with this kind of pain. It was in its own way, a moment of wakening. I was deep in depression and I needed to change so I didn't sink lower.

After that, I tried to ignore the pain. She was never our baby after all, right? But that just made it worse. I kept things bottled up so long, that eventually they would explode out without notice. One day I spilled a drink and that seemed to unleash it all. A kicked bucket, a knocked over trash can and a broken toe later, I realized I couldn't hold it in.

Then my husband found a new job. An amazing job that made us both happy and paid a lot better then the previous job. But it was a job that took him out of town during the week. There were so many nights I cried myself to sleep because my house was so quite and so empty.

I reached the point where I realized I couldn't follow both of the two moods in my life. I couldn't grieve when alone and then pretend all was right when I was around others. I needed help moving through the grief process.

I thought only unstable people need therapy. I was too strong to need help. I read online of a few others experiences of infertility depression and how counseling helped them move on. But I still couldn't make myself admit I needed help.

When Halloween came and went and I didn't do my big Halloween dinner, I realized that I was stuck deep in depression. I couldn't even enjoy my favorite things anymore. I tried to get myself in the moment, but the thought of having a dinner with all those people there to look at me, I couldn't do it. I couldn't pretend to be happy.

I had become terribly afraid of people. I couldn't go anywhere. What if they asked questions? What if they didn't and ignored me? What if I lost it and cried? I had become a prisoner in my heart and therefore my home.

I finally broke down and made an appointment. Then I chickened out and cancelled a few days later. Only weak people need help. Then I went through another long week of tears. I wish I hadn't of waited so long to get help. I think things could have gone a little smoother if I had gone to counseling sooner. I wanted to go on anti depressants, but Josh didn't like the idea. I did make it through so I guess depression can be done without meds, but sometimes I wish I had tried them, it might have helped me be more stable in my moods. Counseling did help, but I've still been to afraid to admit that I needed it. Only a few people know about it. I didn't even tell work why I needed an hour off once a week.

Since finishing counseling, things have been better. I think I've only had two breakdowns since then, which is better then once a day or once a week. Both breakdowns happened at church. Its hard to go to church that is so strong on families.

One Sunday they were talking about death. It came up in Sunday School and Relief Society, so I got a double shot of it. Everyone was talking about how hard it is to loose a loved one, but how grateful they are for Heaven and how they know they can see them again someday. How they are grateful for the temple and that they are sealed together as a family. How they didn't understand how people outside of our religion get through a loss thinking they are dead and gone forever.

That's a luxury I don't get. I had lost a baby I loved and I will never get that back. Never. That is how my pain differs from a miscarriage. At least in a miscarriage I would get a chance to raise my baby in the next life, but it wasn't actually my pregnancy. I wanted to stand and how tell them I do know what its like. It is the most horrid thing ever to loose a loved one and know you will never see them again. Never.

The other breakdown was on Easter. Josh's family all lives in the same ward so I'm not usually alone at church. But that Sunday I was. I didn't know it, but my mother in-law was home doing farm chores and reading a book and my nephews were visiting their other grandparents. I didn't know that. I thought they were all together hunting Easter eggs. I was so mad that I wasn't there too. I will NEVER get that experience, why didn't they invite me? When we left church, Josh asked why I was so upset and I told him. He kept telling me that they probably got caught up in other stuff. And he was right, but by then I was so worked up that I couldn't get over it. Even though that afternoon we did help the nephews look for eggs at my in-laws, I was so distraught that I couldn't let it go.

Which really is dumb, because my in-laws have been so good to me. Through all of my grief, I've been able to build a better relationship with them. My grief that Sunday was for nothing because we did get to help the boys look for eggs. I've finally figured out the whole being an aunt thing this last year. I don't have to hold back because I don't have children of my own. I can find just as much joy through them. I can spoil them and then when they are stinky or whiny, I can hand them back to their parents. Not that they are ever whiny.

I was always afraid to love my nephews. I felt like if I did, I would be betraying my dreams of a child of my own. I felt like if I loved being an aunt, that would mean I didn't want to be a mom. I didn't think I could do both so instead I stepped back and did neither. I've learned over the last year, that I was wrong. I can love them fully and completely and it doesn't hurt. After so many years of struggling, I love being an aunt. I love those boys so much, I would do anything for them.

When we were first unchosen, we decided to step back and take a break from adoption. The more time that passed, the more we realized how much we enjoyed living as a family of two. We started talking about closing our profile. We would talk about it, but then not make a firm decision. After so many years of trying, how could we even consider it? I didn't want to feel like all our efforts were for nothing.

But the more we talked about it, the more we liked it. Slowly, we started to step away from building our family. I started by cleaning up the nursery and turning it into a craft room. A room I once hated and avoided became a sanctuary. Then I decided to start getting rid of the baby items. I sold the pack in play, the swing and the highchair and was relieved to get rid of them. I was afraid I might cry and regret it when the truck pulled away, but instead it was like a great weight was lifted off of me. Then I donated a bag of clothes to a friend collecting items for the women's shelter. Again it was easier then I thought it would be. Friends started announcing pregnancies and I experienced only joy and nothing else.

Last month we called LDSFS and asked them to pull our file. I will admit to one last moment of doubt. Josh and I discussed it that weekend and decided that we were ready and it was decided I would call the next day.  The morning was busy and I didn't get a chance. As I went to lunch, I told myself it would be a good time to call. Then I paused. Was I sure? One of the biggest hold ups was we knew once we closed our profile, we would loose the money we put down when we started the process. Four years ago that was so much money to us. Well, it still is, but at that time it was hard to save it up and then pay it.

But was I really ready to close our profile? I said one last frantic prayer and made a deal with God. I was giving him one hour. If we were meant to adopt, I needed a sign. I needed an email to appear in our adoption account. If there was an email, I would think about it more before closing our profile. Then I surprised myself by ending my prayer with, "if we are meant to adopt, I need an email. But I don't want there to be an email."

An hour later I called and asked them to close our account. That experience was weird. When we were unchosen, we asked LDSFS to put our profile on hold. Our status would remain active, but our profile wouldn't be viewable online. We asked a few times and it never happened. I got sick of asking and decided to just ignore it. Its not like we were getting tons of hits anyways.  I expected the same thing to happen when we closed our profile. Our profile was down within the hour. A process that took years of sweat, hope and tears was over.

We haven't regretted our decision. We put all our efforts into adopting. We jumped in with both feet. We did our best, but sometimes things just aren't meant to be. I wish I could get people to understand that. When we tell people we are no longer trying to grow our family, they act like we are giving up. They tell us to keep faith. To try again in a few years. I just shake my head, they'll never understand. We are happy with the way we are. Our family is small, but we are still a family and we love us the way we are. This has nothing to do with how young we are. This has nothing to do with us needing more faith. This is not about us taking a break and trying again when we are healed. This is about us choosing happiness.

Peoples reactions are why we've not made this a big announcement. We only tell people when they ask. But I'm ready for the world to know. My name is Savannah and my husband is Josh. We have been blissfully married for just over 10 years now. We love the life we have. We tried to have children through pregnancy and adoption, but sometimes it doesn't happen that way. There are other families that are just husband and wife. We are going to embrace life now.

I still question why it all had to happen. Why couldn't I have just been happy before? If we were meant to live as a family of two, why did we feel the need to try and adopt? After trying to adopt for about a year, we started handing out pass along cards with our info. Most people were confused. They didn't understand that the best way to adopt is to spread the word you are looking. I finally started telling people, if this doesn't lead to a baby for us, I hope it at least helps someone who is looking into adoption. If I could help just even one girl as she considered her options, it would be worth it.

I'll never know, but I like to think I helped a young women along her path. I bore my testimony of adoption in several emails. I hope that it was because of my example that she was able to make that hard decision. I hope that in all my efforts to embrace adoption, I was able to help her embrace it too. I think that was the reason I had to meet her. I like to think she needed help and I was there to give it to her. If that is the case, then I can say it was all worth it. I'm glad I could be there for her.

The haunted pink room

Our home has three bedrooms; the master bedroom, the back room and the pink room. The back room is the smallest. For years it has doubled as my craft room and Josh's whatever room (i.e. hunting stuff, reloading stuff, etc.). I've tried to draw a line in that room to keep my side clean from his clutter. I've asked him to not put stuff on my shelf or table. My side stays somewhat organized. His side is a mess that slowly grows and finds its way to my side.

The pink room was just kind of dubbed the baby room, even though we have always called it the pink room. For years it has been a kind of, but not really nursery, and a overflow for when the back room gets full. At times it has been set up as a nursery with the pack and play, the swing, and the high chair set up. At other times those have been folded up and literally stuffed into the closet (they are too big, the closet doesn't close when they are in there). The pack and play has been used maybe 5 times in the four years we have owned it on the rare occasion that I was asked to babysit. And even then, once the mother brought her own pack and play with her. The swing has never been used, at least not for a baby. There have been lonely time where I would go in there and just turn it on and pretend. The high chair has gotten a little bit more use, but even then, not really. I'm tired of storing these items. I'm tired of having a room I don't use.

So its time to go in and knock down the cobwebs (both literal and imagined). But when I go in there, all I do is cry. Cry for what never was. Cry for what almost was. Cry for what most likely will never be. I've decided the room is haunted.

I went in tonight to start to gather a few things that I am donating to a friend for her Christmas Project to provide items to the women's shelter. A few years ago another friend gave me a HUGE garbage bag full of baby boy clothes. I thought I'd start by adding them to my donation pile. That was easy. Then I started going through the stuff I bought. The little boy and little girl outfits I bought because I was in the baby section buying something for a gift for someone else and I just couldn't leave without buying something for me.

And the blankets, oh the blankets I hold so tenderly in my heart. The first one is a cow one that I looked FOREVER for when we first decided to adopt. At that point we were thinking of just looking for a little boy and I was determined to decorate the room (which we would paint blue) in little farm animals. I looked all over the web and couldn't find anything I liked. So then I started looking at fabrics so I could have bedding custom made. Then one day on Ebay, I found it. It was PERFECT. When I got it, I set it up in the Pack and Play just so I could see it every time I went in the room.

Then when we were approved to adopt and our profile was published I bought matching John Deere Blankets in green and pink to celebrate. I bought the green one first on Ebay, but then I decided I needed a pink one too for just in case. (By that time we had decided to be open to any gender). The green blanket came with a little matching pillow. When the seller listed the pink set, it included a small receiving blanket along with the quilt and pillow. I emailed the seller and told them my situation and asked for if it would be possible to get a matching green receiving blanket. They told me if I was the winning bidder on the pink set, they would throw in the green blanket also. I was so excited about those blanket sets!  But they just sit in a box unopened and unused.

I am determined to get this room cleaned up and move my craft stuff into there. I would love to do it NOW but between the emotions and the pressure to finish up my Christmas projects it will probably have to wait. But I want to get it done just so I can get it over with. I've held on to this stuff to long. That's all it is anymore, just stuff. Stuff that seems to be holding me in a place I no longer want to be. I'm ready for the freedom that will come by letting go. In a book I am reading about infertility and moving on it said something to the effect of, as long as there is hope, there will also be pain. I completely agree. I'm ready for my life to move on.

Waiting for the wind

A dear friend and I were emailing back and forth yesterday about National Adoption Month which of course led to talking about being unchosen. She also has felt the pain of loving a birth mom and her baby, only to have things change. Its a stinging pain. Its a pain that I am learning lessens with time, but still has its moments where it flames up and you feel like it might consume you. I've been focusing mostly on the good memories and rereading some beautiful emails that were my lifeline a year ago. But its so hard to stop the reminiscing there; its hard to remember just the good parts of a story that has a sad ending. But I digress.

In our conversing, my friend said something that I really liked and I wanted to post it so I don't forget it.

"Play it by day by day and see how you feel. You'll either get a 2nd wind to jump in again...or you'll feel the wind blowing you somewhere else. Either way, everything turns out all right in the end."

That is exactly how I feel right now. The wind isn't really blowing me towards adoption right now, but it also isn't really blowing me away from it either.

A year ago...

A year ago we got an email. At first I thought it was simply another scam. We had seen plenty of those. I was at work when I saw it, so I called Josh to tell him about it. I remember telling him, "Its probably just another scam, but we got an email from Parent Profiles." She had mentioned her due date and in my rush to prove it a scam I did the math, and it was off. But then I decided to turn the calendar to the due date and count backwards 40 weeks. The math was on perfectly. After that I started to hope.

After calming myself for a minute, I sent an email back. Then very impatiently, I waited for a reply. Each hour felt like a week! Finally after 5 LONG hours, I got a reply back from Parent Profiles. Apparently you don't send replies through them. You have to click on the email address from the sender instead of just hitting reply. So I had to send the message again.

After that it just seemed to be a whirlwind of emails. An unbelievable dream. We had finally met someone! She was beautiful and kind and perfect.

A year ago was one of the happiest days of my life. Which really was perfect because a year and a week ago was one of the worst days of my life. C helped me through a hard time. C gave me hope again. C's emails meant the world to me.

Today I'm not going to think about our sad ending. Today I am going to think of the happy beginning and how it changed my life. Today is going to be a good day because a year ago I had a good day. :)

I'm still here

To post or not to post, that has been the dilemma. I start a post and then it becomes too personal so I end up putting it in my journal instead.

So I guess the short version is: most days are fine. For the most part, I am at peace. But infertility is not something you can ever recover from or get over, so that means I still have bad days. I will always have bad days. The problem is I only feel like posting on those bad days, but after writing out my feelings I can't share it.

I think of the "what if" occasionally, but not obsessively like I used to. The first Sunday in church after the baby was born all I could think was "I shouldn't be here." And it was so frustrating because no one knew. The next day I had to celebrate a birth, all the time knowing that the baby I had dreamt about was being placed in the arms of another couple. I hate how infertility makes you plaster on a happy face and pretend like nothing is wrong, even when you feel your heart breaking inside.

Now my thought only dwell on the "what if" when things are brought to my attention, so I avoid those situations. Some may call in denial (and they might be right), but I call it self preservation. I know what I can and can't handle and I don't push myself past that point. Its hard to establish that point, because it affects others, but I've decided my own sanity is more important then what they think of me.

A while back I realized that adoption is no longer my heart, at least not like it used to be. Adoption is a part of my heart, but not my entire heart anymore. I'm not sure what that means for our future. For now, we are okay with how things are. We're not sure what the future holds, but we are not going to worry about it. Our new motto is "Find joy in the journey...now."

Am I happy? Yes, I am. Josh and I have been able to take a great relationship and make it even better. Our family may be small, but we are still a family and we try to celebrate that every day. Each day I am amazed at how much our love has grown. Next month marks our 12th anniversary since our first date. Every day he amazes me. Because of him, my heart is full.

What if?

This year, Josh and I decided we would not attend the Families Supporting Adoption Conference. We have attended the last three years, and have loved it each year, but each year we've always thought, "next year we won't still be looking."

I thought I would miss it. I thought Friday morning I would wake up in a panic, pack a bag, head out to Layton and hope to find a hotel to stay in. But Friday came, and that panic did not set in. Sure, I missed it, but mostly I just missed the friends I have made there. The friends I met last year and planned to meet again this year. The friends I have made on-line this last year and hoped to meet in person while there this year.

We have reached a new level of peace in our family building. We are okay with how things are. Feeling like I could miss conference has just helped add to the peace I have found lately.

Two months ago I started a blog post, but it never got past the draft stages. Here is part of it:

"I'm tired. I'm broken. For now, I am done.

Done with the waiting. Done with the hoping. Done with the looking."

Most days I still feel broken. But that's because I am. My body doesn't work. As a woman, I'm designed to create babies, but my body won't let me. I guess because of that, I will always be broken. Infertility will always be a part of me. I have fought against it for years, but its something I will never be able to change. There are dreams that will never come true.

Some days, I feel the same about adoption. All the waiting. All the hoping. All the heartache. All the unanswered questions and unanswered prayers.

I'm tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of hoping. Tired of the unknown. Tired of the things I can't control or change.

A few months ago, we took on a new outlook on life. What if we never become parents? What if we are wasting all this time on something that may never happen. What if we loose ourselves so completely in the waiting game, that we loose each other? What about all the other stuff we've wanted to do with our lives? Things we can do now.

So what if we never become parents? Is that so bad? We married because we loved each other. That has never changed. We didn't marry each other because we thought we would make beautiful babies. We married because we wanted to spend the rest of eternity with each other.

What does all of this mean about our future family building? I'm not sure yet. I just know I am ready to start living a new way. I want to enjoy each moment. Not spend each moment going, "Nope, can't do/spend/plan that because what if we get chosen?" If it is going to be just the two of us, then we are going to live it the best way we can.

The little things

My purse feel apart a few weeks ago. It had been hanging by a thread for quite some time. I loved this purse, Zipper loved to chew on this purse and that is the reason for its demise.

I can't bring myself to go buy another purse. A few months ago when I noticed its condition I decided I would tough it out until this summer. Then I would need a diaper bag and I could just carry my wallet in it.

I don't need a diaper bag anymore...

I am amazed at how the little things, like a purse, remind me that I'm not going to be a mom this summer.

We have talked about letting Ally have kittens this summer, but I didn't want to have kittens at the same time we had a baby. We think she is pregnant now and they can't come fast enough. I need a distraction and her belly isn't even growing yet.

I think about taking a day off of work and I won't because I was saving all my time for when the baby came.

I'm not even going to mention the baby shower invites.

I wish every little thing didn't remind me I'm not going to be a mom this summer.

He Lives!

Every day is a new struggle. Why did we wait so long to just be looked at? (We started the adoption process three years ago.) In September of 2009, we had the chance to visit with a young mother on the phone. I begged and pleaded with the Lord to let this work for our family, knowing the entire time that it wasn't our baby. I remember the next morning posting on Facebook, "Its still early in the morning, but already I know the answer is no, and it breaks my heart."

Why was it so clear then that that situation wouldn't work out, but why did everything with C feel so different, like it would work out? Why were we chosen, only to later be unchosen? So many questions, and still not many answers. I think I'm okay with how things turned out with C, things happen and minds change. I understand that. But now my questions are for my Heavenly Father. Why must I suffer this heart break? Why after so much yearning, am I still childless? Why did we come so close, only to be so far again?

Today, comfort came in the form of a Swaperoos gift. I was in tears before I left the Post Office.

A charm from my favorite Etsy Store.

Last year my Swaperoo partner had a failed placement. I hope it is okay with her if I share part of her message to me.

"Anyway, something I found myself clinging to last Spring was the hymn I Know That My Redeemer Lives. The lyrics got me through a lot. I knew he could take pain and grief and sorrow from me, but it is a continual process to remember to access the Atonement as you travel down your path laden with twists and turns and roller coaster rides. The first package holds something special I custom ordered for you from The R House Couture (hence the two packages...that one is coming directly from Lindsey). Before you open it, I hope you'll read through the hymn and remember that Spring/Easter is a time of new beginnings and that He lives to take away your pain, wipe your tears away, and silence all your fears. I hope you love it!"

This used to be one of my favorite hymns, I'm surprised I had forgotten it until now. On the drive home, I tried to sing it, all I could remember was most of the second verse. Here is the lyrics to the entire song if you're like me and can't remember all of it.

1.

I know that my Redeemer lives

What comfort this sweet sentence gives.

He lives, He lives who once was dead.

He lives, my ever living head.

He lives to bless me with his love.

He lives to plead for me above.

He lives my hungry soul to feed.

He lives to bless in time of need.

2.

He lives to grant me rich supply.

He lives to guide me with his eye.

He lives to comfort me when faint.

He lives to hear my souls complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears.

He lives to wipe away my tears.

He lives to calm my troubled heart.

He lives all blessings to impart.

3.

He lives, my kind, wise heavenly friend.

He lives and loves me to the end.

He lives and while he lives I'll sing.

He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

He lives and grants me daily breath.

He lives, and I shall conquer death.

He lives my mansion to prepare.

He lives to bring me safely there.

4.

He lives! All glory to his name.

He lives, my Savior, still the same.

Oh sweet, the joy this sentence gives:

"I know that my Redeemer lives!"

He lives! All glory to his name.

He lives, my Savior, still the same.

Oh sweet, the joy this sentence gives:

"I know that my Redeemer lives!"

Text: Samuel Medley, 1738-1799. Included in the first LDS hymnbook, 1835.

Music: Lewis D. Edwards, 1858-1921

When I got home, I remembered a seminary lesson many years ago. This is taken from my seminary journal, November 19, 1999:

"My favorite reason 'He lives' in Hymn #136 is 'He lives to comfort me with faint." I have felt his comfort before, so real that it seemed as if i was in his lap crying and that he was there offering me support and comfort.

Here is my own verse to this hymn -

He lives to hold me when I cry.

He lives to protect me from all lies.

He lives and watches me from above.

He lives and extends me all his love."

I will admit I am weak and I've had my moments when I've wanted to be mad at God. (I will also admit how relieved I was when our caseworker told me all the feelings and emotions I am experiencing are a normal part of the grief process.) But I can't be mad at God because I know that He does live, and He does hear my souls complaint. He has comforted me and He has helped calm my troubled heart. I find it odd I only wrote half verse all those years ago. Here is how I would end it:

He lives to grant me daily peace.

He lives, helping to build my eternity.

He lives to tell me if only I could see,

The promises He holds for me.

Thanks for the gift Megan, it was perfect.

For My Broken Heart

Tuesday we were unchosen by our potential birth mom. I was at work when I got the email. I don't remember much more of that day except trying to hide the tears. On Wednesday I woke up to realize it wasn't a bad dream. I figured since the world was still turning, I might as well go to work. I made it through the day, but just barely. The most touching part of the day was when a co worker helped spread the word, so I wouldn't have to.

I don't think I can make it through another day of normalcy. We are taking the rest of the week off and are headed out of town.

Faith can move mountains

Even though 1 out 6 couples suffer from infertility, it is still a lonely world. It's hard to live in a world when babies continue to enter your life from every direction. It hard to trudge forward with your head held high, when you feel so misunderstood. It's hard to hope on the unknown.

It's just as hard to live as an expectant parent after being approved for adoption. In January 2008 our paperwork was approved and we became a waiting couple. We became expectant parents. We started our own, be it long and drawn out, pregnancy.

I try to not murmur about our trial of infertility. I've tried to remain positive and uplifting to those around me. I've tried to share my excitement, but that's hard to do when there is no end in sight.

Infertility and waiting on adoption is met with lots of advice.

*You just need to relax.

*Be patient, your time will come, it will happen.

*You need to have more faith.

Those three statements are what I dread THE MOST to hear. But they are what I hear the most often. But right now, it's the third one that is troubling me today. "You just need to have more faith."

I'm sorry, I didn't realize that we didn't have faith. Each morning I get up and check our adoption email account, hoping to finally see a message. Seventeen times now, I have opened my email to see that I have a new message. Seventeen times I have thought, "What if its another scam?" But, seventeen times I have clicked on new message hoping against the odds. Seventeen times I have been wrong, but I continue to check this email account on a regular basis. Is that not a sign of my faith?

Each day I watch couples with their children and each day I dare to think, "that will be me someday." Is that not faith? Each night I find myself in deep prayer. Praying for our birth parents; for their health, for their comfort, for their love. Each night I pray that our time will come soon that we will become parents. Is that not faith?

Each day I try to hand out our adoption pass along cards. Sometimes I am met with comments that they won't make a difference. Sometimes I am told it's a waste of my efforts. But I continue to hand them out! I feel that even if our cards don't result in a baby for us, if they help a young women choose adoption, than I am making a difference. Is that not faith?

Sometimes I dare to dream big and I start to talk about those dreams, only to to met by opposition. It comes in many forms, but always it is heartbreaking and I promise myself I will not subject myself to that again. And yet, faith lives on, and down the road I start to try to share those dreams once again.

I know these people mean well, and I know they don't mean to hurt my feelings. I know they say things out of love, I just don't hear it that way.

A week ago I took the biggest leap of faith in regards to our adoption. I told a girl we weren't the parents for her precious baby. Is that not faith? It is so hard to say no. It's hard to think that we could be parents now. But because of my faith, I knew it was what we needed to do. I said no, because I have faith that something better will happen to our family.

I have several friends who are exercising faith while they wait for their families to grow. One friend tried for 18 months to get pregnant. 18 months! I never once would have dreamed of telling her to have more faith. I've had friends struggle to get pregnant and then a few short weeks later have a miscarriage. Would you caution them to have faith? (If you would, than you are not a nice person.)

In our church we are taught that faith CAN move mountains. I've probably heard that a thousand times. And yet, I don't think I've heard that faith WILL move mountains. To me, that is a significant difference. Faith CAN move mountains. If a mountain needs moved, a person can have faith enough to do so. But I don't believe that any faithful person can just move a mountain after having faith to do so. That mountain will move if and when it needs to.

Infertility is our mountain. If my faith alone was enough, then I should have been able to become pregnant. But that was a mountain that didn't need to be moved. It could have, but instead it was a mountain I needed to go over. It's a mountain that needs to stay where it is. My faith could have moved it, but it didn't.

Our adoption wait is our next mountain. I have faith that this mountain can and will be overcome. I also have faith that it will happen on the Lord's timetable, not mine. Even though I continue to pray everyday for our child doesn't mean I lack faith. My prayers are ways of telling my Father that although I am still waiting, I have faith that it can happen. My prayers are said each night so I can feel the peace from my Father in Heaven. My prayers are NOT a lack of faith, rather they are a sign of my faith. If I didn't have faith our adoption would happen, I wouldn't pray for it.

I may get down at times, but I am not broken. Infertility didn't kill me and the adoption wait won't either.

Answered Prayers

A few months ago my prayers changed. I still kept my plea, "please let a birth mom choose us, and please let it be soon". But I could feel my self sinking and I needed something to change, to keep me from dropping down into despair. So in addition to my pleas for a child I also added, "please just let us know that we are at least being looked at."

After a few months, it felt like a repetition to my prayers, but I needed something to restore my confidence, something to let us know we were making an appearance in the adoption world.
Of course, with all prayers, the Lord knew when I would really need this prayer answered. Only He would know that I was strong enough to struggle on further. Only He could really see when I would need that answer.

Saturday night was just another normal night for us. Josh was grilling dinner outside and I was blogging online when the phone rang. A young woman was looking at Parent Profiles; she was looking at OUR profile. I was so nervous and found it hard to talk so I asked her to first tell us about her. What a delightful person who has been placed in such a tough place. She loves her little girl and wants to give her the world. She liked us because we looked so happy. I had a nice time visiting with her, and the excitement I felt was amazing. Could this be our little girl?

By the next morning we knew that this was not our little girl. It was heartbreaking. We knew that morning we needed to tell this brave young woman to keep looking for a family and yet it took us hours to finally write the email and then even a few more hours to send it. It's so hard to say no.

It was another learning experience for us. We still aren't sure when we will finally get to adopt, but we know that this wasn't our time. Josh said it perfectly when he reminded me we are looking for our child and if this girl isn't ours than we would be taking someone else's baby and that wouldn't be fair.

I never could have had the strength to say no if I wasn't so sure of the comfort and peace I knew my Heavenly Father would give me. I knew that when we said no, I would not be alone. I knew He would be right there to carry until I find the strength to move on.

I also remembered those prayers I have been sending heavenward for so long now. I thought I needed that answer months ago and even weeks ago. But this last week has been so trying. This past week was one of the times where for a brief moment I said, "I can't do it. I'm ready to give up." I don't have those extreme moments often, but when I do, my Savior is there to give me a push and a reminder that I can do this. I'm so grateful He waited until now to answer my prayers.

Taking a break from sanity to battle some demons...

*Warning, this is a LONG post. I've actually been working on it since May. I would get frustrated and add to it, then calm down and edit it some more. With the return of my recent demons I became determined to finish this post and hopefully be able to move beyond these issues.

I love telling people we are looking to adopt. I don't mind telling people that we are infertile, I can even joke about it (we have no sperm in our marriage!). But that's about all I can do. I wish I could find the words to describe our infertility, how it makes us feel, how it has changed us and how it affects our day to day life. Maybe if I could talk about it, then people could understand us better, why we have hard days, what causes them, why I sometimes get angry and why I sometimes (okay, all the time) get offended so easily.

A few years ago I dropped into a deep, dark place. I wasn't a mother and thought my life was over. What was the point of living if I couldn't be a mother? I wasn't happy. I would go days with endless crying and other days just feeling numb so I wouldn't cry. It was hard to function. When I was around people I was angry, mean, hurtful, (please continue this list as you like). I thought I could never be happy again, unless I was a mother, but who would give a baby to a bitter person like me?

One of the biggest things that helped turn my life around was joining some support groups. I started meeting other people like me. They too couldn't have babies, and therefore their dreams couldn't come true. I heard stories very similar to mine and stories that were more painful than mine. But I also gleamed hope and faith from these friends. They had found a way to move on with their lives and I could too.

Prayer, hope, faith, time and a loving husband are what pulled me through. I was able to find other reasons to be happy. I was able to restore my faith that I can still be a mother someday. I was able to repair some of the damaged relationships I had sabotaged. I was able to rejoice with my friends as I watched their dreams come true.

I have come a long ways, but infertility is not something you can ever recover from. It will always be a part of my life, it will always be my demon. I have reached the point where I can celebrate new births. I don't think I celebrate them as much as others do, but I no longer dread them. I no longer try to ignore them. I no longer fall apart when they happen. But even as I smile to welcome a new little life, silently my heart is breaking inside of me.

I think that is where some of the misunderstanding comes from. "She must be okay, or she wouldn't have come," is what I fear they say behind my back. But those milestones that pregnant women get to celebrate are road blocks that I have to navigate past. I'm okay that I can't get pregnant... until they start talking about the good moments like hearing the heart beat of the very first time, feeling them kick, seeing them move on an ultrasound and talking about their first moments in this world. Then my demons start to haunt me again.

When families around me started to grow and therefore things started to change, I became angry. They didn't do those kind of things before! They didn't own stuff like that before! I let this eat me up for a long time. I convinced myself that this stuff was happening because they loved these people more than us. It took me a long time to realize what it was really about.

Of course they didn't have toys or traditions like that before. They had no children in their lives before so what was the point. Of course things would change after babies started to enter the family, with those new additions came changes to how things were.

Each time I come to these new revelations, I just have to battle my demons. I just can't immediately accept these new understandings. They make sense and I know I should be okay, but I still have to fight my way to acceptance and peace. Sometimes it takes days and sometimes it takes weeks.

Entering into the adoption world brought so many insecurities. The first (and biggest) stress is, will a birth mom ever find us, fall in love with us, and choose us to parent her child? But those thoughts led to others and eventually I started to question EVERYTHING about myself. What do I know about being a mom? Why do I have to wait for someone to think I am good enough to raise a child? What if they don't like (insert odd quirks here) about me? What if we never get chosen? I'm not cool/pretty/smart/talented/etc. to be chosen. Why must the waiting be so long? Why must the waiting be so HARD?

I was thinking of those issues the other day and I am struggling to over come them. When we did our paperwork, the hardest thing to do was the birth mom letter. We had two pages to talk about ourselves and why we thought we could be great parents. We agonized over the letter and I think we rewrote each line about a dozen times. I kept thinking that if our families read it they would point things out that they didn't like.

After it was finished I had a few copies and a friend picked one up and started reading. My heart jumped out of my chest. I DIDN'T want her to read it. I couldn't understand why. I knew that strangers would be reading my letter and I was okay with it, but I was afraid of what this person would think. When we had family proof read it, I was terrified of what they would say. "That's not exactly true", "Why would you describe stuff that way", "Do you really do that?"

I also started to stress over what people would think when our family grew through adoption. Would they love our children just as much as they would have if they had been physically born into our family? What if biological children were loved more than our adopted children. I really struggled with this. My heart broke over the "what ifs".

Which leads to my newest battle. I just assume that people should care about how we are doing and that they should do something to show they are thinking about us. Then when that doesn't happen, I get mad and declare that I KNOW they don't like me. I have convinced myself that if people don't ask about our adoption, it's because they don't care and it has caused me such heartache. I know this isn't really true, but in my mind all I can hear is "they don't care about you." It may sound silly, but I have lost sleep over this.

After stewing over this for, well probably near to FOREVER, I realized something. Maybe it's hard to talk about the unknown. Maybe it's hard to speculate about something that isn't a guarantee. Maybe they don't want to get our hopes up and give us false hope. Maybe they DO care, but they don't know how to show it.

I've been stewing over this new concept for a few weeks now. It makes sense, or at least I know it should. But I think I have lived with this self doubt for so long that I can't shake it off yet. I've spent so long telling myself that no one cares that I think I have come to believe it. I'm trying to change my way of thinking, but those doubts creep right back in.

And yet each day as this battle goes on, I seem to gain a little ground. Sometimes its the actions of others that gives me understanding. Sometimes it is me, finally succumbing to the will of the Lord.

Sometimes it is a matter of sincere, deep, and long prayers just asking for this burden to be taken from me. I have felt those prayers being answered. I've had moments where I thought "what if..." Then I obsess over it. "If I could just have this experience, I would be okay." And yet I know those are experiences I can't have. So then I just ask for the desire to be taken from me. And it has worked. I'm not asking for the desire of motherhood to be taken, just moments, like hearing heartbeats.

Infertility is not going to break me. I am learning to live with it, learning to deal with the heartache it brings into my life. Some days it doesn't affect me and some days I still have moments where it paralyzes me, but I think I have finally reached the point where I don't revolve around it every waking (and sleeping) moment of my life. Infertility has become a part of who I am, but I don't need to let it be the only thing that I am.

Paper Pregnancy vs. Belly Pregnancy

Infertility has taken the opportunity to speculate about children. I hate it that when someone is expecting, everyone can wonder about the baby. Will she look like mom or dad? Will he be blond or brunette? Will she look like her sister or brother? I always want to remind people that we too are expecting. Sure we don't have a due date. Really, we don't know a single thing about our potential child. But they are in our hearts. We dream about them every night. We talk about them every day. We want to share this experience with everyone.

I guess it's hard to speculate about the unknown. With a pregnancy, the parents and family can talk about upcoming events. "Just think, next Christmas, baby won't be in your belly anymore and will be here to celebrate with us." We don't get that luxury. We have spent many holidays now thinking "next year..." But with adoption, we really don't know that our baby will be here by Christmas, or by any certain date for that matter.

I just feel so left out. Everyone will start talking about future events and such and they always include those who have a bun in the oven, but not about those who are paper pregnant. Do they think it will never happen? Or do they think that it might hurt to mention the fact that not only are we childless, but also we are waiting on the unknown world of adoption to help our family grow? I really think it is the second reason, but it's still hard to deal with.

I want to sit around the dinner table and talk about how our child will have a seat at it someday. Will they have dark curly hair to go with their brown eyes? I want to speculate if our child will be daddy's hunting buddy or mommy's little girl. I want to feel like our family is thought about, hoped for and dreamt about.

An adoptive friend of mine recently posted about this same subject on her blog. Check it out HERE. She was able to describe so many of my thoughts and feelings about waiting in the background of expectant motherhood. She talks about a friend who is expecting a baby through adoption and was just matched with a birth mom. Now this friend wants to start preparation work on the nursery. Some are hesitant to help her because they are fearful the adoption will fall through and not take place.

We live with that fear too, and we aren't even matched with a birth mom yet. It's one of the risks we take by trying to have our family grow through adoption. But all methods of reaching mother hood are risky. I have friends that have suffered miscarriages, still births, and early births that resulted in death. But they were all mothers. They all celebrated their pregnancy, speculated about their children and made preparations for their arrival. And then tragically their children were taken from them.

As an expectant adoptive mother why shouldn't I be allowed to act the same. We are anxiously awaiting our child. Why can't that be celebrated and talked about? If we have an adoption fall through we are going to mourn no matter what. Just because our child isn't in my belly, doesn't mean we love it any less. Our child is growing in our hearts.

Surrounded by mothers

I had an experience this weekend, and even though I'm still not sure what to think of it, I wanted to write it down.

I struggled off and on for the last few weeks about still being childless. Some days the waiting just seems to be too much and I want to give up. I was on the mountain waiting for Josh to call me back and in the quite of my car, I once again found myself pouring out my heart and soul to my Heavenly Father.

"Why must we wait so long?"

"What am I supposed to be learning from this?"

"Will we be parents soon?"

"Why can't I just be a mother already?"

In the midst of all my questions, I looked up at the road. A deer was crossing the road. Halfway across she looked back to watch her fawn cross with her. When she reached the other side of the road, she stopped again to make sure the fawn was still with her.

I don't believe this was coincidence. I believe that I needed to be reminded that motherhood happens in nature. Once again, I was able to find the peace that I go looking for so often.

Things to never say to an adoptive couple

An adoptive mom just wrote an awesome ARTICLE on things not to say to an adoptive mother.

Even though we have not adopted yet, we get questions very similar to those. Here are a couple that are my personal least favorites.

After you adopt, you will be able to have one of your own. This comment makes me the maddest, I'm talking grizzly bear mad. Adoption DOES NOT cure infertility. Adoption does cure childlessness and fills empty homes, but it does not guarantee a pregnancy. Actually only about 10% of couples who adopt, will go on to have their own successful pregnancy later on. I have met hundreds of adoptive families over the last few years. Very few of them have had their families continue to grow through their own pregnancies. I also know couples who do conceive, but unfortunately have miscarriages. Some of those couples choose to adopt and still their family doesn't grow through their own personal efforts. If a pregnancy does happen after adoption than it is just as big a miracle as adoption itself. I am very passionate about this and I think people are finally understanding that we really have no desire to become expectant parents through pregnancy. Please don't ever say this to a couple looking into adoption.

You both work full-time so you must be rich enough to adopt. I have a harder time talking about this subject, but I think it's time to lay it all out. Adoption is expensive, but that doesn't mean the agencies are rolling in the money. They provide: medical care, housing, and counseling (and I'm just hitting the highlights). We will also have to pay legal fees and hire an attorney when we go to court to make everything official. We are not paying money to buy a baby, we are paying to help take care of the birth mom while she is pregnant. We both work for several reasons. I couldn't stay home all day, every day, in a quite house. I would go insane. But the real reason I work is because we need the income. We are trying to save for an adoption, put hubby through school without going in to debt, plus just continue to have the money we want to live comfortably.

I could never do an open adoption, I wouldn't feel like the mother. Adoption has changed so much over the years. Gone are the days of a birth mom placing a child and then never hearing about them ever again. Change is progress. This women chose to place their children because they LOVE them. What a peace of mind they can have as they get the chance to watch their child grow. Once we adopt, the child will be ours for eternity. But we still want the chance to share them with their birth parents. Those parents gave them the chance to live, now we are giving them the chances at life. We've met several birth moms from different situations. I've seen the healing that comes to those with open adoptions. When we first started the adoption process, open adoption scared us. But there is nothing wrong with having even more people to love a child as it grows.

Aren't you worried about getting a baby with problems? Stereotypes are horrid. Birth moms are awesome and they have their acts together. That is why they make adoption plans. They may have made mistakes, but they are turning it into a miracle. Plus, even if we could have conceived a baby on our own, sure, we could of controlled things like drug exposure, but we still wouldn't have had the perfect baby. Medical conditions are possible with all pregnancies. That is just a part of mother nature.

I could never love a child that wasn't my own. DNA has nothing to do with love. You feel in love with your spouse and you weren't related to them. I also feel in love with my in-laws and I'm not related to them either. Love is unconditional, that's what makes it so great. We will love our child no matter where they come from. I should also add that we will love our children no matter what they look like.

Your time will come. No one is more aware of this fact than we are. After years or trying to conceive and now years of trying to adopt, we realize that it will happen when it's supposed to happen. Most days we are okay with this. But it doesn't change the fact that is seems like we are standing still while others move forward with their lives. We live in Utah, where having a family is a big deal. We go to baby showers, baby blessing and even to the hospital to welcome family and friends who have brought little ones into the world. We have friends who were able to adopt a lot faster than us, while we still suffer with those whose adoption plans seem to drag on. We know and adoption will happen within the Lord's timing, but until then we come home to a quite house every night. People probably say this because they think it's what we need to hear and coming from their own mouths, it probably does sound good, but to us it's just a shouted reminder that we are still childless. Instead you could say things like, "We are thinking and/or praying for you." Or you could ask if we have heard anything. The answer is usually no, but it lets us feel acknowledged. Even though we are only a family of two, we are still important.

We are both very passionate about adoption, and we both love to talk about adoption. Feel free to ask us any questions. We want to educate the world about adoption. It's not some scary thing that should be kept a secret. It should be celebrated.

All I can say is....WOW

I had an amazing experience today where I know that God's hand is in my life and it happened....at the dentist office.

Let me go back to the first of the year to really show how amazing this all is. At the beginning of the year the dentist I was using quit accepting our insurance. I was totally bummed over this, because I really liked this dentist. So bummed that I bought off find a new dentist for almost 6 months.

Then last week I noticed that my teeth didn't feel as clean and I decided to get an appointment for a cleaning. I asked around at work and found a new dentist. This Monday, I called to get an appointment, knowing it would be several weeks out because dentists are just busy like that and I wouldn't be a priority since I didn't have a tooth ache. Plus, I only want to go on Friday's which narrows my chances.

Guess what...they had a cancellation for THIS FRIDAY. I have never been able to get a cleaning the same week that I called for the appointment. EVER.

After some pictures, poking, cleaning, I was informed I needed to have some work done and his insurance specialist would help me out with the costs and some appointments. After we were all finished I decided to hand her one of our pass along cards (that's what their for). I still feel awkward when I give these out, but I am getting better. I just let them know that we are looking to adopt and if they know of any one please give them our information or if you feel inspired to give it to someone for the same reason, please pass it on.

Today I gave her our card and got as far as, "We are trying to adopt." She exclaimed that they just started to look into it for themselves. We spent another 15 minutes visiting about adoption. Adoption is so close to my heart that I could talk about it forever. They are going through a different agency, but I've invited her to join our local FSA and I hope we can become great friends there.

I don't like going to the dentist, but I know I was supposed to be there today.