Pushing On

What is it that makes us take a terrible situation, and keep going forward?  Just our will to forget and move on?  I'm not sure, but I've been noticing it's a theme lately.  I can't help that I'm drawn to people who have faced the worst circumstances and moved on, or found happiness again.  Those that have faced adversity and come out on the other side. 

There is a common theme in all of us, to love, and find happiness, but on that trek, well, life happens.  I was on a run yesterday and with the colder weather on the east coast, I have been dragging and finding excuses to not get out there.  But I yelled at myself to stop thinking about it so much and just go do it.  It sucked, in a nutshell, but something happens after that first mile.  I start to find a rhythym.  I start to think about random things and before I know it, I have run another mile.  Those are the best runs, losing all sense of the time and miles ticking away on my running watch.  I looked down to see that I had run 1.67 miles before I even knew it.  It felt great and then the ensuing miles felt great.  And the weather was no longer cold, but sunny and bright.  I was no longer cranky, but feeling a sense of accomplishment and good tired. Pushing myself, physically and mentally I got it done.  Getting through a run is one thing, but doing that in life when the chips are down, is another.

About a month ago, a dear friend lost her mother, too young.  She had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer this summer, and things progressed quickly.  She had already lost her father a few years ago, and now, her and her three siblings find themselves adult orphans.  My heart tightens everytime I think about it.  She, however, seems to be doing ok.  Back to work, a positive outlook. 

Her story is not the only one, another friend who is now in a "scary" pregnancy, another friend who can't get pregnant, and another going through another cycle of IVF.  Friends' parents or spouses with health scares.  And further out, teens involved in bullying, or miners being stuck underground for 69 days.  If their tale is not an example of pushing on, I'm not sure what is. 

This weekend, one of the Chilean miners will be in NYC to run the NYC marathon.  He ran six miles a day underground, but that is about all the training he has done.  I doubt it will matter much when it comes to the marathon.  For his tale is one of survival and the true definition of discipline.  And he will be surrounded by many strangers who were cheering him on while underground and during the rescue. 

It's stories like his, or my dear friend, that I look upon for strength in my own times of adversity.  But there's another common theme here.  That we can't do it alone.  But perhaps together we can all push on.  Get rid of the imaginery lines that divide us, and do it together.  Run together, survive underground together, change together, and push on together.   Perhaps there's someone who needs a boost today, or a just a quick email that says we are thinking about them.  Perhaps someone needs a little push, perhaps it's you who can give it to them.  Afterall, it may be you that doesn't realize your ability to push on.  Or, if you are the one that needs a little push, then I hereby reach out to let you know you are not alone.  We are, afterall, in it together.  Push on my friends. 

Believe

We had just finished dinner, and our waiter brought our check over to us.  On top of the bill, there were two.  Neatly wrapped.  I quickly ripped my open and read it out loud.  It felt about right...we are due for some big things.  For some big news.  I put it into my purse for safe keeping.  When I feel down I want to read it and know that I still have hope. 

I was taking the train to the city the other day and gently put a glass bottle of Starbucks coffee into my (new) purse so it wouldn't leak.  Got on the train to realize it had in fact leaked all over the interior of purse.  Tried to rescue what I could.  Saw the small peice of paper soaking, or better, swimming at the bottom, and pulled it out and placed it on a ledge to dry out.  I must have put it back in my purse at some point, but I hadn't seen it since on the train.  Hadn't thought about it either.

Last night I was remaking Bailey's bed.  She likes to kick all the covers out of her bed sometimes, so we carefully remake it into the queen's bed she so rightly deserves.  I picked up one of the blankets and the fortune floated down to the floor like a falling leaf.  I picked it up and smiling, I read it again.

Why is it that people can tell you over and over again that good things are going to happen, but I read a five cent fortune and I believe again.  But it's true, I do believe again. 

When Life Gives You...

This morning I stumbled out bed with eyes half closed, hair messy straight to the coffee pot.  I knew I needed to really rally at work today, so coffee on those days is a must.  I grabbed a mug from our dish set, but saw further back another familiar mug...this mug.

 

When K and I were still dating I was in a job I absolutely hated.  Not only was I working long hours, but I wasn't very good at what I was doing, mainly because I really hated it.  Plus, I was having a hard time getting along with my bosses and it reaked a little of "Office Space."  

Yeah, I'm gonna have to ask you to go ahead and come in on Saturday....

Knowing my misery and K's love of the comic strip Red Meat, he bought me this mug.  I smiled through closed teeth and put the mug at the back of the cabinet...I thought it was a little gross.  Especially for my morning coffee.  But for some reason, once we moved and I started drinking coffee from home more, this has quickly become one of my favorites.  Plus, I think the message is funny and apropos now, and I feel I've earned the right to drink from it.  

This morning though, I immediately thought of my good friend.  I had lunch with her yesterday and she is a good friend from college (we were roommates for a time) and she happens to live in NY about 20 minutes from us.  She is pregnant, which I knew without it being confirmed.  But things are going just ok for her.  A few weeks ago she got a viral infection that in pregnancy could be hazardous to the fetus.  So in a few weeks she will need to get an amniocentesis, and see how the baby is doing.  You can tell she is scared, but excited, and wants to tell people and have everything be ok.  

I can't help but think of when we were in that similar situation.  Telling people we were expecting, but something in the back of our minds not letting us truly feel excited, and not buying much for the baby at all.  It's a crappy situation to be in, and not something I've wished on anyone.  I feel for her, and will be praying like crazy for a healthy baby.

But in chatting with her she made a comment about how great K and I have handled everything we've been through.  For some reason, we continue to persevere.  We have never stopped in our quest to start our family and though we've hit bumps in the road...we've dealt with them.  And no matter her outcome, she will persevere too.  Perhaps it's our outlook, that when dealt a crappy hand we see the silver lining, or we just make poop juice.  I guess the point is, it doesn't really matter how we get through, it's that we do. 

I'm Still Here

I keep coming back here.  To this place, where I have left so many of my thoughts and feelings over the past few years.  It's as if I'm stalking my own self.  To see if I have posted yet.  Everytime I check I see that the page is blank.  After my last post, I had all but thought I was done.  This summer, I didn't even think about writing.  But for some reason now that fall is in full swing, words and posts and thoughts and feelings are clouding my brain and I'm guessing they need an outlet.  And that's ok, not everything has to be so absolute or black and white.  If I need to write, I shouldn't feel like I'm breaking any rules of not posting. 

I took a much needed break from hearing my own words and it was a great summer.  It was our first full summer out here on the east coast, and we tried to get out and do some different things.  We played in our town in Connecticut which is a vacation destination in itself.  We live close to the beach, so I spent a lot of time running, and also taking Bailey out for many hikes near the State Park by our home.  I gave the emotions and thoughts a rest, and concentrated on my physical self.   This must go back to when we were kids and summers were for swimming and playing and come September, it was time to put our brains back to work.

We also checked out other avenues for "Operation Baby Drop" (it's like we are in a war that will never end).  But those proved fruitless so we are back to adoption, and with a new agency.  We are just waiting for the official "approved" from them so we may start to get shown to birth moms.  Even to get this point, this agency really has their stuff together.  It's amazing how bad the other agency was in hindsight.  It's not nearly as exciting as it was last time, and that may be ok.  We are going to be more strict about what situations we will allow, and make sure that the fit is right for us too.  It may take a little longer, but we can't let ourselves get into a situation like last time.  My hair is still growing back in...it's a constant reminder of the turmoil everytime I try to fix my hair or tie it back in a rubberband and I see sprouts of hair all over my head that have a mind of their own. 

So here I am for now.  No rules, no obligations.  Just here, figuring it all out. 

Finding Peace

This morning I crawled my way out of the covers with a dog that kept licking my face, and laced up the ol' running shoes to make my way out the door for a run.  I tightened my shoes before I took off down the street and looked at the tag on my shoe.  I have an ID tag with my name, and a couple emergency contacts in case something ever happens to me and they can't identify who I am.  On these tags there's a couple of extra lines where you can put a motivating saying, tag line or nickname.  One of my friend's put "Don't Hurt Me" on hers, which still makes me laugh, but on mine I put "My Feet Keep Me Running, My Wings Let Me Fly."  It's the title of the first blog post I ever wrote. 

I have been feeling very at peace lately, and glancing down at that tag, I realized just how far I had come from about two years ago, right about the time I started blogging.  When I started blogging I was just a few months past losing my most precious gift, and I was not in a great place.  I was trying...trying to be positive, but I've come to realize that when you lose someone very close to you it really messes you up.  And looking back, I'm so proud of the way I came out of that darkness, but know that my heart was still broken into many pieces.  And I think this somewhat stayed until we moved to Connecticut.

Moving has given us a reason to slow down a bit.  Leave the city life, smell the fresh sea air and experience greenery besides weeds growing in the sidewalk.  I truly believe we were given this gift to help center us, and put us in a better place emotionally.  At least I know it's been that way for me.  Going on hikes 1-2 times of week, something happens to me when I'm out there in the woods.  I feel weightless, centered, and healed.  But since we moved it hasn't all been harmonious.

I noticed a couple of months ago that I had a new growth of hair coming in.  Not just a couple strands, but all around my head spurts of hair! I thought maybe that I had damage from hilites, but that didn't make sense since I only get them on top and I had hair growing at the bottom too.  Last time I was at my hair dresser I asked her about it.  She said sometimes diet could make that happen, and I did lose 15 lbs when we moved.  But more than likely it was stress.  With a big move across the country, embarking on adoption, and going what we went through with the adoption, it is very likely my hair fell out somewhere along the way.  I have a TON of hair, so I never really noticed, but now that it's growing back in...It's hard not to notice because it's really messing up my 'do. 

But now, I have peace.  After the adoption failed and we picked up the pieces, I had feeling wash over me that everything is going to be alright.  Desperation kind of found the exit door, and I know that I can't do much to change that plan is set for us.  We are still being proactive with adoption and one last round of IVF, but I'm equally excited about them both!  It's almost the question of what is going to happen...and either way, I couldn't be more interested to learn what God has planned for us.  I now know that God hasn't forgotten about us, but that it's going to be damn good since we've waited so long.

Rubber Mats and Play-Doh

Finally the weather out east is starting to break.  This week, along with my foul mood, the weather was dreary and chilly and left me wanting to stay in bed all day.  Topped with my cutting back on caffeine, an AF that was trying to win some sort of contest and Mother's day...well let's just say it was a rough week around these parts. 

But now that I see sun again, I find myself wanting to run more.  Running for me is a must in my life, and it's painfully obvious when I haven't run in awhile.  I feel lethargic, fat, lazy, unaccomplished.  That may sound harsh and is probably a little harsh, but after a run, even a short run my whole outlook changes, instantly!  I only run about 3 times a week, but when that is taken away from I feel that my outlet is gone. 

I always find it funny when people say that "it's so great that you run," as if I have any sort of choice in the matter.  When you are a runner, you just find yourself lacing up your sneakers to hit the pavement.  But what people don't realize is how LUCKY I am to find myself out there.  I'm a kid again, playing outside, looking for my next adventure.  The other day I ran down a winding, shaded hill, feeling free and fast.  I passed a house and could smell the hose running water.  Why does water from a hose in the summertime always smell different?  I kept running and passed another house that smelled like daycamp from when I was 10 years old.  It smelled of rubber mats and play-doh.  On my way back home, I ran past a park getting freshly mowed and could smell the fresh grass, and see specs of it swirling around the lawn mower. 

So to me, I'm the lucky one.  Today, I will hit the streets again, and let the sun shine on my face, feel the sweat on my back and say a little prayer back up the hill that I generally swear at.  When I come home I will feel that sense of accomplishment and look forward to the next time I can feel like a kid again.  If you don't run, perhaps give it a try today, all you need is a pair of sneakers.

**Update tomorrow on book club.  I've chosen the first book, nothing too long or tough to read!**

Acutely Aware

Sunday came and went.  It has been 4 mother's days now that I have not been a mother and have so wanted to be a mother.  The pain associated with this day is not something that is getting any easier for me.  I am still feeling the sadness and repercussions of feeling empty on this day.

Three years ago, my first mother's day after we had started trying for a baby, I don't really remember.  I don't think I felt an emptiness or sadness so much.  I'm sure I thought about it, but given the fact that I don't remember it, I'm certain that I must have felt ok with the day. 

Two years ago, my second mother's day after we had started trying.  Well two months before that mother's day I had lost my baby.  I was still supposed to be pregnant, but instead, I carried around the extra pregnancy weight that I could not get rid of.  An awful reminder.  My mom and I went about our day of getting our nails done and brunching, but I remember feeling in a haze that day.  I remember sitting in Starbucks and looking at a painting on the wall that looked like sperm swimming toward an egg.  I remember feeling the elephant in the room, because no one said anything about it, not even my mom.

Last year, we had our "last" failed IVF cycle.  We were done, and I felt a huge weight lifted.  We were moving on to adoption.  We were also moving across the country.  So we did what we do best, we left town to avoid Mother's day at all costs.  It worked because I felt fine, and fairly confident that by next year, I'd have a baby, or maybe waiting for a birth mom to have her baby. 

This year...was rough.  Probably as rough as when we lost the baby.  I think because in both cases we were so close, we had a baby waiting in the wings, but again, that would not be our fate.  This year, I knew would hurt.  And you know what also hurt?  The bottle of wine I drank the night before Mother's day resulting in one of the worst headaches I've had to date.  Wine + Depression = hell.on.earth. 

A few days before Mother's day this year, we got a call from K's brother.  They are expecting.  She has had a rough journey of her own, taking a long time to conceive, and having a ectopic pregnancy in December.  So I knew this day was around the corner.  And I am so so happy for them.  Thrilled actually.  I know the pain of infertility, probably better than most.  On Sunday, they called again and said it was twins.  The more happy I feel, the more I feel the knife cutting through my heart.  I feel the last pieces being cut away, that somehow, they are pregnant with the last babies on earth.  That 2 1/2 years ago, we were making the same announcement, with twins.  That now...on this Mother's Day, I was left empty handed once again and must put on a happy face for someone else's joy, and can only hope that one day, we will be acutely aware of the joy we feel as well.

Reading Frenzy

Last week I was laying on the couch watching Idol or DWTS, or some other inane program feeling my brain slowly rot away in my head.  These are pretty much the only two reality shows I allow myself to watch, but I hate myself everytime I tune into them.  They just don't tell a story, have a plot or even give much drama.  At least if I watch a drama, I feel at least as if my brain has to think about what's going on, or what will happen.  These reality shows...well quite frankly I'm over them.  But when it's winter and you live in a town where you don't have many friends, there aren't many options out there.  Plus with the laparascopy, I had to stop running for over 2 weeks so I've been booooorrrrreeeed, but at least I can start that back up again this week.

But back to the original topic; reading.  I decided aloud last week that I'm going to have my own summer book club.  After Idol and DWTS end this season, along with all my other shows, I'm going to turn off the tv.  I'm going to concentrate on running and reading, and maybe meeting a friend or two.  The idea came to me because we bought new furniture last month for the office.  Since I work from home, our old stuff just wasn't cutting it, and we needed to upgrade.  When I was going through our bookshelves, I found all these old books that I haven't read yet.  Classics that I bought and have been wanting to read, but probably turned to the just released page turner.  

So starting...well, now...I'm starting my summer bookclub and I invite you to join me!  I did just find out that my three most favorite authors are all releasing books this summer, but I can usually read those in a couple of days but would be happy to have those in the mix too.  But I'd love to embark on a few of the classics that are new to me, or I just never read. 

Here are a few of my suggestions...
Farewell to Arms (read about 1/4 of this, never finished, but need to, and loved what I read!)
Huckleberry Finn (of course read this, but back in grammar school)
Grapes of Wrath (never read, but East of Eden changed my life)
Sense and Sensibility (ugh, I think I'm the only female who is not a Jane Austen fan, but I have this on my bookshelf)

So I invite you dear friends to join me!  Let's do this together this summer...I'm 100% open to some other suggestions as well.  I'm finishing another book that I've already started and then would like to start on a classic.  My goal is 3 classics this summer.  I don't have huge goals here, but that's about a book a month and we all know how quickly the summer moves!

Leave a comment if you're interested, and what you'd like to read!  If I don't get any comments, I'll just go ahead and read and report back on my findings.  Happy May!

Hope is a Choice

I have a secret to tell.  It's not a big secret, but it's something that has been happening since the failed adoption.  Here it is...are you ready?  I...am...feeling...hopeless.  There I said.  It's the first time since we had started trying for a baby, that I actually thought about throwing in the towel.  On everything. 

I know, that may not come as a shock, but it's not something that I felt I could control.  Things just started to chip into my hope.  And I don't mean that...like we're taking a break from everything.  Or let's hold off for awhile...and secretly hope that one day we'd adopt or get pregnant. I mean that like I was getting to a point that I didn't even know if I wanted kids anymore.  That we were DONE.  That maybe it would just be K and I, and we could stop everything, we could travel, we could buy expensive wine, maybe in a few years buy a vacation home.  That we'd just be the fun aunt and uncle.  In my whole 33 years of life, it was the first time I felt this way.  I always felt born to be a mom...I secretly thought if I ever had an unplanned pregnancy I'd deal with it, because I could not wait to have to have a baby, and have kids.

After the adoption (and it wasn't just that she changed her mind about keeping the baby, it was how the whole process went for us), I started to see things in grey.  I think I was tumbling into a sort of depression.  When we lost Nicholas we had time to prepare.  We knew he wasn't healthy, and the pain started well before we actually lost him.  So when we actually lost him, we were already grieving.  With this baby, we remained so hopeful until we got the phone call that she had changed her mind.  When we returned home, and the weeks following, that's when the real grieving started.

We then decided to start looking into fertility treatments again for a few reasons.  We always kind of felt like we had another IVF try in our back pocket.  Our somewhat unspoken plan was to adopt a baby.  Give that baby all the love in the world, and then perhaps try IVF one more time, or maybe not.  I also felt like once we brought an adopted baby home, I might never try IVF again, but the door wasn't shut.  So when the adoption fell through, we felt more pain dealing with the family and the agency than anything else.  We thought maybe we should give IVF one more shot NOW, as we're younger, we don't have to deal with a birth family or an agency and it could be OURS.  Our situation.  We call the shots.  We were pretty badly burned as you can probably sense.

So we met with the number two IVF clinic in the country which is basically in our backyard in NYC.  He didn't give us hope, just wanted to run some different tests.  We went along.  Yet, last week I had this overwhelming feeling of what the heck are we doing?  We've tried IVF FIVE times!  Yes, we got pregnant once, and one time had a chemical pregnancy, but I looked at our situation from an outsider's perspective and I almost laughed at myself.  At us, for maybe hanging onto something.  Then I looked at our savings that would once again take a hit for either IVF or adoption, and in the depths of my soul felt that maybe we should just stop.  Stop it all.  And I also wondered aloud at dinner why our super awesome social worker hadn't called to check in on us.  She was amazing during the adoption process, but I suspected she was just giving us time to figure things out.

Last week, one day after I felt at the depths of desperation, our social worker called.  She wanted to check in and gave us some information on an adoption agency that she really liked and they seemed to have their act together.  That she had done a few adoptions with them and everything ran pretty smoothly.  She said the wait times seemed to be about 7 months to bring a baby home.  We spoke for about 30 minutes, just talking about the old agency, this new agency, where we're at.  She is amazing.  I hung up with her and felt a little light flicker again.  I remembered when we were going through our homestudy and how hopeful I felt.  How excited we were getting. 

I relayed the conversation to K and we had a long heart to heart about what our next steps are.  In the meantime I was watching or reading something online, and I remember seeing "Hope is a Choice" fly across the screen.  And the little light inside of me grew a little brighter.  I thought yes, no one but me is taking away my hope.  I felt like it was just vanishing, but maybe that was a choice.  Now is the time I need to bring back my A game.  Hope is a CHOICE...not a reaction.  And it's a constant struggle to keep that alive, but I'm going to fight.  I am going to pull myself out of the self-pity I've allowed myself and we ARE going to have that family.  Because that's what we choose. And right now, plain and simple, I choose hope.

With Fresh Eyes

I, like most people I assume, often go about my day in robot mode. I get up, drink my coffee, start work, eat the same thing for lunch, have the same snacks in the late afternoon, take the dog on the same walk around the neighborhood and often make a dinner that is below average.  But since we've been back from vacation, and since the surgery, I have been forced to see things with fresh eyes.

Usually after vacation I come back in somewhat of a blissful ignorance, which is evidenced by my previous post.  And isn't that the goal?  To come back so relaxed and happy that you tune out the white noise around you.  That is generally my goal after vacation.  K and I were joking around that while we were in Mexico, I was too relaxed to even read.  We just sat on our pool chairs with a fruity cocktail zoned out for most of the day.  That sort of relaxation does not come often.

But after surgery I was forced to come back to reality quicker, and become more aware of my body and surroundings.  I know people who have had the laparoscopy, but I guess I underestimated what a big surgery it is.  It has knocked me on my ass to put it bluntly.  It's now Tuesday, 5 days after surgery and I am still in quite a bit of pain and my stomach looks like I'm about 4 months pregnant.  Taking the dog for a walk around the block has been a challenge, setting her bowl of food on the floor is painful because forget about bending over at the stomach.  Climbing stairs has been eventful, as well everyday things like, oh, buttoning my jeans.

Though it's times like these that make me more thankful.  Thankful for my health, and ability to run 5 miles or go hiking with Bailey.  The ability to pick up a basket of laundry and walk up 3 flights of stairs to the bedroom with it.  Thankful that I don't normally get so tired I feel the need to nap after making lunch, or that I can sleep on both sides of my body...something fairly detrimental to a "side sleeper."

Since I've been in slow motion I have noticed more about the neighborhood, walking slower down the street I know which trees have budded, and those that are still holding out.  I know better where Bailey likes to stop and smell because we're walking so slowly she pretty much has her pick of where to stop.  I noticed the other day a "Welcome to the World Baby Girl" sign on our neighbors' lawn.  I walk past there everyday, and have seen the woman who lives there outside, but never knew she was pregnant.  Was I so absorbed in the mundane of my life to not even notice?  I'm afraid so. 

So with my fresh post-vacation, post-surgery eyes I'm trying to really see the world...and those things around me.  And thankful once again that I am able to.

Ignorant Bliss

Wednesday morning I found myself walking along the beach, the bright green Carribbean Sea to be exact.  I took a deep breath in, smelling the sweet salted air, and squinted my eyes one last time as I took a mental picture of this beautiful place.  We were catching our flight back to NYC in a few short hours, and I had to say my goodbyes to the beach. 

The past few months have been a time of reflection, questioning and wondering.  But mostly trying to make peace, and I believe I have.  I have thought little of the baby that we are not holding in our arms, but mostly of the birth mother and her family.  They still wind their way into our conversations every so often, but there is little anger, hurt or confusion there anymore.  I am just glad I never held the little guy...otherwise, my dreams would be filled with him. 

But we decided that if this had fallen through, we would need to get away.  We love to travel, and have taken a couple weekend trips here and there, but we needed more.  We NEEDED a swim-up pool bar and someone delivering pina coladas to us before the lunch restaurants even opened.  And that is exactly what we got.  Four glorious days of sitting on our tooshes in Playa del Carmen at one of the nicest hotels I've ever stayed at.  The food was delicious, the sun was warm and the games of ping pong even better.  It was fun to crawl out of our hole and experience something different.  We really needed to get away and let loose, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.

We came home on Wednesday night, knowing that I'd have my laparascopy on Thursday morning.  It was somewhat planned that way, so I could just take the whole week of off work and relax.  The procedure went well and they did find some endometrious...a fair amount I believe he said.  I'm pretty sore, but looking forward to catching up my tv shows from the week and just laying around some more...I think we kind of planned this perfectly!  Just wondering if my hubby will deliver Pina Coladas or Daquiries to me on the couch?  Those go well with percocet, yes?

So begins a new chapter.  We are finally putting to bed the illusive adoption we experienced, and moving forward.  I'm still not sure what direction we will go, adoption again or another IVF round, but I'm kind of liking the ignorant, relaxed bliss right now. 

Footprints

I'm not sure the first time I read the poem Footprints in the Sand.  But I do remember the feeling that came over me after I read it.  There was just something about it that I loved, even at the young age that I read it.  I loved the "surprise" ending of learning that, when this person felt the most abandoned in his/her life it was at those times that God was carrying them.  It still affects me obviously.  It was also one of my Grandma's favorite poems and now in our guest room we have a frame with the poem that she kept in her room until her very last days.

When I'm going through a particularly hard time I always think, "is it so bad right now that God is carrying me?"  I often hear myself say a resounding no.  I know I'm strong enough to get through most situations, but there are times when I know I'm getting a little help.  When the adoption fell through, I felt so completely out of my mind.  We couldn't get out of Utah fast enough, and I couldn't stop crying. But I also felt relieved.  I went to sleep that night, or really the next night when we got home, and just knew with all my being that I was being carried.  And boy, did I need it. 

I'm not an overly religious person, and since I went to parochial school for my entire life, I feel I've had enough structured religion to last me a lifetime.  But I do still pray almost every day.  I very rarely pray asking for something.  I just don't like to constantly ask for a baby, or more money, or for a better job.  I usually try to just say thanks for what we have already been given.  But last week I prayed that we'd get some answers...that there would be a sign of some sort to point the way.  A few weeks before that, I had made an appointment at the number two IVF clinic in the entire county which is right in NYC.  We couldn't get in until mid April, which was about two months from the time I made the appt.  Well the day after I prayed for something I got a call that there was a cancellation this past Friday.  Now I didn't take this a sign that IVF was really our chosen path, but I did take it that I was getting some help in moving along the process to get some answers.

The appointment went pretty well and we really liked the doctor.  He went through our phone book of medical records and asked all the appropriate questions.  He thinks I may have endo and wants to do a laparoscopy, which I scheduled for April.  K has to go through a bunch of testing as well, so we are currently in the process of doing all that.  We are not 100% sure we will move forward with IVF, but it's definitely on the table. 

So where does that leave us with adoption?  Well...that would be a good question.  We were burned by it, and we are still healing from it.  We are over the family, but now we are gun-shy.  I'm also not sure we're cut out for domestic.  I give so much credit to those adoptive parents who can do it, but I'm not sure I will be able to connect with another birthmom.  I'm not sure right now I want to.  If we do adopt, we're leaning toward international.  But those are just our thoughts at the present moment.

But for now, we are just taking our time. We definitely want to move forward with something, but right now we are content to just get some answers about IVF, ease back into things and get ready for summer.  We are also taking a much needed vacation to some sun and sand soon. 

I still feel that I'm being carried right now, more so than ever.  And for now, I'm just fine with that.

New Day, New Blog

And new week, new month, a new leaf...

We got home from Utah now a week and a half ago, and I felt good with where were at then.  We had a nice weekend last weekend, seeing some friends in Manhattan at a fun and loud German restaurant.  We finished unpacking and just kind of got our lives back on track.  The week started without much fanfare but as the week progressed I started to feel the effects of all that we had gone through.  I had a couple bad days at work, and even broke down crying one day at my desk.  I work from home, so it's not as bad as it seems.  The stress of it all just hit me and for that brief moment, it was more than I could bear. 

Friday came along with a wallop of snow storm, that seemed apropos for the week I was having.  By late Friday afternoon, the skies opened up and we had the most beautiful sunset I've seen with crisp white snow.  I went for a hike with Bailey down the street at the forest preserve and it was stunning.  It looked like a winter wonderland, and again I was reminded how beautiful Connecticut is.  My heart belongs in Chicago, but Connecticut might be one of the prettiest states I've entered (and I've been to about 30).

As I hiked I started to feel better.  I shed the rough work week and had a chat with myself out there.  I needed to step back up.  To bring my A game to work, infertility, adoption, whatever the case may be at that certain time.  That adoption had seen it's last tears from me, and I just can't live life feeling like my head is underwater. 

I know better things are to come.  We survived the snowstorm and caught a glimpse of the sun.  Today is a new day, with a fancy new blog to match.

New Ride, Rollercoaster of Life

The other day I was sifting through some old boxes from grade school and high school and found a journal I kept when I was in college, and a few years beyond. I was not very good at keeping up with it, and really only wrote when I seemed to have a problem with a boyfriend or my parents. But months and months would go by with no entries, until, the 1st of the new year. Without fail, I had many resolutions to write more, to lose weight, to exercise 3-4 times a week, to get better grades that next semester. Then, around February, my writing would stop and I didn't "hear from me" for another 10 months or so.

I don't really do resolutions like most people. I guess I always try to eat healthy, but since we moved to CT I decided to eat what I want just in moderation. And run a few times a week...crazy enough, I lost 15 lbs doing it. (I just might have gained 5 lbs during Christmas, but I'm not talking to the scale right now...I will see next week after I'm back on track). I guess my point is I stopped denying myself, and tried something different. Went a different route.

This year is sure to bring many new beginnings, or many new obstacles. I'm certain that life is meant to be a rollercoaster at this point. That status quo just doesn't apply to us. We both had the week off of work last week, and almost found ourselves getting bored, and looking forward to getting back to the grind. I need to have a sense of purpose, and feel like I'm contributing to something other than cussing at Cablevision for taking away my HGTV and Food Network.

As I embark on this new year, I have high hopes, and dreams and many many prayers. I will continue to take care of myself, and my family. The rollercoaster is slowly slowly climbing and all we can do buckle our seatbelts, close our eyes and hold on tight.