I was finally seen by a doctor today. She couldn’t see anything definitive on the ultrasound, but I’m only 5 weeks so she’s not super concerned. Besides the pain on my right side there is nothing from the check-up that points to another ectopic. However, I’m having my quant levels checked today and Friday so she can get a better picture of where I’m at. If my blood work looks good, she’ll give another ultrasound right after New Year’s. If it doesn’t look good then she’ll give me a methotrexate shot before the tube ruptures. Either way, my nerves are calmed because I’m getting some care from an experienced physician–and I didn’t have to go to the ER! This whole no insurance thing is really frustrating.

The doctor told me that I was absolutely right in pushing to be seen. If I waited another week or two, it would be too late to have the option of the shot, and I would have to have surgery. Plus, we’re hopeful that this is a good one. We’re praying it made its way into the uterus. She thought she saw a faint build-up of blood…we’ll see what happens. I’m actually feeling pregnant. That’s a good sign I think. I am extremely tired in the afternoon and at bedtime. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before. Dare I say, we are feeling more hopeful!!!

Why is it that plans always change? Why is this one simple task of having children so difficult? This is not a “why me” question, just a why question. I am a woman…I am made to bear children. It is a gift and a birthright. And I also want to do it. I want to raise a family. I want to create a space that keeps some of God’s children warm and safe. So then, why is it that after 2-1/2 years of no pregnancies and finally having a solid secure direction in adoption do we find ourselves five weeks pregnant?

�I’m not sure where this will take us. We are hopeful and scared. Even though we’ve been here before, we’ve never had the element of a progressing adoption to deal with. It’s difficult for me because I want to be excited. Somehow, though,�I feel if I get too excited I am betraying my committment to adoption. On the other hand, if I begrudge this blessing, I feel I am dooming it to failure. Our hearts will break if we have to leave our Colombia referral behind. Adam and I know in our hearts that we want to adopt no matter what comes of any pregnancies that bless our family. I’m just frustrated and anxious, and I’m somewhat waiting for ‘the other shoe to drop’ as they say.

There is an intense amount of guilt inside of me, and I’m still processing this shocking news myself. I guess time will tell. Every time I use the restroom or feel a cramp I fear the worst.�I told�a friend last night that I feel like Pavlov’s dog…I’ve been trained by experience to think this way. And yet, every time I look at my nephew I think of how wonderful it would be to see myself looking back at me in nine months.

What will be will be. I pray for grace to bless my soul so that I may deal with whatever comes of the pit stop.

There are oh so many changes I envision. I daydream about them all the time. Going from no children to four children is mind-boggling to say the least. Here are the questions I most frequently think about:

1. How will I grocery shop?

2. What kind of “large” vehicle will work best?

3. Do I home school, private school, or public school them—which would be better for language acquisition, self-esteem, and overall adjustment?
4. What if they don’t attach to one or both of us?

5. How will I adjust to staying home all day…making lunches, helping with homework, playing chauffer, etc?

6. What if I’m not good enough?

7. How do I develop my children spiritually?

8. Will my husband love me the same?

�Let’s be honest, this is not going to be easy. But I live by one mantra—one that I impose upon my students every year… “For everything of value, there is always a price to pay.” If it was hard, it wouldn’t be worth it. I look forward to all the worries on the list. I mostly look forward to having the worries, I know that sounds odd, but anyone who wants desperately to be a parent understands it. I also look forward to problem-solving the worries with my husband.�

I do think about how our lives as a couple will change because we know it will. But I don’t think that has to mean we’ll have less time for each other. We just have to work on a schedule that benefits our entire family. The greatest asset Adam and I bring to this adoption is our strength and flexibility as a couple. Even in our darkest hours of fertility, we could laugh through the tears and figure out what to do next. I’ve never once felt paralyzed by our heart-wrenching challenges. That’s how I know For Sure that this is going to work out…and be wonderful.

���� This is a loaded question, if ever there was one. Below are the two main reasons we want to adopt:�The first reason I want to adopt, internationally specifically, is because of the desire Adam and I have to fill our lives and our home with children and culture. One of the things we treasure most about one another is the way in which each of us sees the world…the life experiences we each have had while abroad. We discussed adoption extensively before marriage—before it being a necessary means to grow our family— and we both had a desire to do so. We each have significant ties to the international community, both in Asia and in Africa. We want to fill our home with both children and culture—this is the best of both worlds for us.�
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The second reason I want to adopt, is because it feels right. Although adoption was on the table from the beginning of our marriage, we thought it would be in addition to, not instead of, having biological children. I have been utterly unsuccessful at carrying a fetus past eight weeks, and I have had many miscarriages the past few years. I started to feel as though my entire life was wrapped up in fertility treatments, doctor’s visits, and all the emotions that go with the experience. In January 2006 it was decision time for us…I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. We saw our options as these:

1. Keep on the “fertility train”� being poked, prodded, and paraded.
2. Remain childless and revel in the brilliance of being Aunt Rach and�Uncle Adam.
3. Go for adoption. �

���� At that point, one fantastic thought came clearly into view…I want to be a parent more than I want to give birth. It’s taken me three years to come to that conclusion…and this past year, I have felt the idea firmly take root in my heart and in my mind. I just want to be a mom. I am not above IVF or Clomid or just being an aunt, but would rather have the blissful chaos that being an instant mom of four will bring. The challenges of parenting will be just as trying as the heartache and heartbreak of failed pregnancies and failed attempts at becoming so…but the difference is that I will be a parent. That’s all I want.�

���� For us infertility has not been “a stealer of dreams” but an opportunity to look beyond ourselves and find something beautiful and real—our new family!!!

Here we are pulling out of our driveway in the fog, snow, slush, and mist to make the one hour drive to our social worker’s house for our first meeting. (If you click on the picture you will see Adam waving to the camera :) I wasn’t�nervous at that point because it was�only an initial–get your paperwork–say hello–type meeting. It turned out great. Craig is going to be very easy and wonderful to work with. I felt super comfortable. All of our interviews will be held at Craig’s house. It is a beautiful home–I’ll have to make sure to get a picture next time–it was too wet and slushy to pull the camera out this go-around.

We have the opportunity of participating in an online adoptive parent education program. We also get to attend monthly seminars in Ogden that address pertinent adoption topics such as culture, institutions, attachment, etc… Some of my journal posts are elaborations of questions I was required to answer for the education program.

I am taking the advice of my brilliant friend Jaime Lynne Lea…we are snapping as many pictures of the adoption process as we can think of. She reminded me the other day that this is?like our pregnancy phase of the journey. Why shouldn’t I take pictures? If I was pregnant we would take them all the?time.?Plus our kids will love to see them and hear stories one day.

Tonight, I was puting our adoption binder together. I love that we are documenting all of this. I may be able to circumvent many afflictions of a pregnant mama like swollen feet,? heartburn, and more weight gain (heaven knows I don’t need this). However, no pregnant mom has to order, fill out, and organize so much paperwork. It’s insane. I knew beforehand how much it would entail, but with international adoptions there are so many extra steps.

Anyone know what the term apostille means? How about the difference between the INS, BCIS, and USCIS? Yeah, I thought so. We even know more about notarizing than we ever wanted to.

As the binder gets thicker and thicker, I realize that bringing home our children gets closer and closer. I now have something tactile to show for it. I LOVE MY BINDER! Instead of rubbing my tummy, I can rub my binder. Weird, huh? Not natural, but very cool!

Let’s be honest, this is kind of weird for me! I’m not used to blogging without�cool pictures and awesome content like trips and�holidays to draw inspiration from. I’m hoping�this part of�our blog�site will be more like an adoption�journal (including back journaling). There is so much about our fertility/adoption journey that I want to remember, preserve, and ultimately share. I’ve been meaning to start this for a LONG time now. I guess the thought of a little family on the way has spurred me to action. :)

I’m sure some people (even myself at times) wonder why? Why would�I want to share something so personal, so deep, and, at times, so sad? I have�deliberated over and debated about this quite a bit. My main motives are as follows:

1. I want to put pen to my thoughts…to my pain and to my joy. The feelings I have felt the past few years have been real and intense and long-lasting. I don’t want to forget a single moment.�No matter how painful, I want to remember�every time a friend or sister�announced a pregnancy, every time I miscarried, every time I was poked, prodded, and paraded in front of doctors, and every time we vacillated between remaining childless, pursuing adoption, or continuing to endure fertility treatment. I�MUST Remember! Otherwise, my trial means nothing. It is in the remembering that I draw strength. Journaling is obviously cathartic for me.
2. I want to preserve the lessons learned. By journaling my experiences, I solidify the growth within me. I never�knew I was capable of so much compassion. Don’t get me wrong–I still have a long way to go. However, I feel more deeply for�those�in the midst of�trials…I am much more cognizant. I am much quicker to give comfort. I am more sensitive.�I allow myself to cry more.
3. I want to share this story with my children, and perhaps others. My children will need to know one day�what�I went through in finding�them, and how�I was led to each of them.�They will need to know that just as they endured tragedy and cruelness before they came to us, we endured much sadness and trial�before bringing them home. They will need to know how unconditional our love is for them.

My end goal is to put all of my thoughts and experiences into a book…mostly as a gift to myself and my children. It is the only way I know how to make sense of what I’ve experienced. I look forward to writing down many things here. I hope that any of those peeking in on my personal journey will reverence it and enjoy it.