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.