Profiles and Petri Dishes

2010-05-05T18:09:00.000-07:00

Today is my anniversary.

Five years ago, I married my sweetheart.

Somedays I feel like we've walked through a lot of fire for just being married five years. There have been many struggles, mostly surrounding growing our family. Infertility is hard on a person, but it's also hard on a marriage. But I am glad that he's the guy with whom I've chosen to walk this path.

Seven years ago, when we met, I never would have imagined this future for us. Marriage, first of all (I never would have thought I would end up marrying him! No offense love) But I did not see the sweet brown babies either.

When I think how crazy we must seem to many,

after all we have adopted twice in just five years,

I sometimes feel like I agree.

What was our rush?

There was something, or rather someone,

prompting us to light a fire and get a move on.

Sometimes people feel a prompting that now may not be the right time-

but I literally felt like fire was lit beneath me

and I HAD to get a move on.

Sure glad I listened:

Embrace this day

2010-04-09T12:48:00.000-07:00

"Embrace this day with an enthusiastic welcome, no matter how it looks." F. Enzio Busche (full speech here)

When we first were trying to have a family with no success, I needed this advice. Some days, I woke up, and despite beautiful blue skies, my outlook was only that of dark grey clouds.

Even now, I still sometimes find myself in a funk. Despite the two beautiful children whom I can call my own. I think allowing myself to live under a cloud for so long has made these clouds somewhat a permanent feature. Or it could be attributed to a bit of the post adoption blues (like post-pardum only for adoptive parents). A real thing? You betcha.

But on days like today, when the 2 year old destroys all in her path, is full of sass and attitude and the little one keeps fussing for no apparent reason... I still find myself stopping to look at these two miracles in my life with such love and care. I find myself overwhelmed with incredulous joy.

The unspeakable joy that I get to be their mother.

so push on, ladies. Embrace this day, despite the clouds that might threaten.
After all, every cloud has a silver lining.

Honored Too

2010-03-25T18:58:00.001-07:00

My dear friend & fellow infertility blogger, Kara of My Road to Motherhood awarded me this sweet honor! Thank you! Kara was actually the reason I started this little blog here, she inspired me to let out all my feelings by writing them down. So really, I have her to thank for all the wonderful and amazing women I have met through writing about the rollercoaster of family building. She is a wonderful writer, photographer and designer and I adore all she does in her professional life as well as her strength, faith, hope and perserverence as she has struggled the sorrows of infertility. Kara, you are my hero! If you aren't reading her blog, start! www.aroadtomotherhood.blogspot.com

the rules of this award:

1. Thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.
2. Pass the award on to 5 other bloggers who you think are great.
3. Contact those bloggers and tell them you've awarded them.
4. Write 7 things about yourself.

So...Other Bloggers I think are Great:
1. the ladies of All Things Thrifty I love their brillant, thrifty ideas!
2. Ashley of Feigning Fertility! She writes often the things I think in such a way that moves me.
3. Michelle of In Pursuit of Parenthood, what faith she displays! I enjoy reading each post as I find myself lifted from her sweet example.
4. Betina of B-Happy. Her secondary title says it all: Formerly Barren, Now Busy.
5. Kim of Simply Me, beautiful photography, beautiful writer!

Now the 7 things about me:

1. I LOVE reality TV. It is my secret addiction. LOVE it. It is so ridiculous, but I love watching other people's lives unfold, especially if their life is crazy/stupid/inspiring/amazing. I. am. addicted. Just ask my DVR. My new favorite? Guiliana & Bill on Style. Especially now that it's all about infertility. Like moth to a flame.

2. I do most of my clothes shopping online. It's obviously easier with two kids, but you can find killer deals at all my favorite retailers in the clearance. And when you find something fabulous...even more delicious!

3. I LOVE cake. Funfetti to be exact. For my wedding, my priorities were 1: dress, 2: cake. And of course the groom.

4. I re-arrange the furniture/rooms of my house at least quarterly. What can I say? I love change. Strange isn't it? I feel so much better about life when I have rearranged my house. It's my stress reliever. I even rearrange drawer contents.

5. I can never find my cell phone. I promise I'm not screening phone calls, I usually just can't find it until my husband comes home and can call it endlessly so I can hunt for it. If it's on vibrate and I misplace it...let's just say it's my husband's pet peeve.

6. I have colored my hair since I was 13. (first highlights, then came the gray, so now it's full color). I've had red, black, blonde, and brown hair. Tyrell likes blonde (typical) I like really dark brown.

7. With each adoption, I've promptly put on 10 pounds. Who says you have to birth kids to gain baby weight?

Priceless

2010-03-02T11:09:00.000-08:00

Couldn't resist this from our trip to pick up Tate in Louisiana.

This is our newest motto at our house:

God does answer prayers,

just ask the Philpotts.

Worth It All

2010-02-08T19:46:00.000-08:00

Tatum Tyrell
Born February 3, 2010
7 lbs. 5 oz, 19 3/4 inches

Adopted February 5, 2010

Nesting in No Time

2010-01-28T13:45:00.000-08:00

With both babies, the time line of their arrival has been short on our end.
Mac came to us only a week after we were chosen by T.
This little man (who is still cooking in the oven BTW)
will arrive a month after D picked our family for him.

So what about nesting?

Well, with Mac, I packed the two blankets and 3 onesies we had
(seriously how unprepared can you be?)
and flew to Louisiana on Christmas Day.
The day she was released from the hospital to our care,
We hadn't even bought a carseat yet.
Thank heavens for Mary, the hospital social worker,
who sensed our ill-preparedness (and knew we had no idea Mac was being released until we arrived at the hospital). She sent us out and checked on Macaroni until we came back to the nursery, car seat in tow.
(Don't worry- we are planning to visit Miss Mary while in LA)

This time, we are a bit more prepared.
we have several sleeper outfits
a package of onesies
4 burp cloths
a car seat all ready to go
the crib set up
a few blankets
the most darling bedding set ever

From none of which I have removed the tags.
Let's face it, with adoption there is never a guarantee we'll leave the hospital with a baby.

I've been searching travel site after travel site
preparing myself for where to stay & how much our flights might be.
But guess what?!
IT'S MARDI GRAS & CARNIVAL
and this baby is making his debute in New Orleans.

Oh heavens.

So we run the risk of buying flights cheaper now for the induction date
when luck might have it,
as soon as I purchase tickets, he'll decide to come early!
Then we're out $150 to change the tickets! Blast!

Nesting?!?
There is no relaxation in my nesting
despite the fact I have DEEP cleaned my house several times
including every closet
(which meant Tyrell had to build shelves in the garage...)
let's just say it's been quite a project.

If I had nine months...
we would have built a new addition to our house by now.
That's how out of control I've been.
Poor hubby.

I haven't set anything up,
opened any packages,
painted any walls
because if I had to come home to a beautiful nursery
with no baby to live in it
I would be devastated.

But at least this time
we already have a crib.

CHOSEN

2010-01-21T20:45:00.000-08:00

About three weeks ago we heard about a birthmom.
All we knew was that she was from Louisiana.
And that was all we needed to know,
because somehow we knew she was OUR birthmom.
Just a few short days later,
we got the phone call we'd be waiting for.
We had been CHOSEN.

Words cannot describe what it's like knowing that someone out there, who is willing and able to place her child has looked at your family and said, "This baby should be part of that family."

To have it happen twice is a freaking miracle.

I haven't said anything earlier
because as you know, adoption is never a for-sure thing.
But with all we've got, we're hoping to be bringing a baby home in February.
Not only that,
A BABY BOY.

As I've been pacing floors, skipping heart beats each time the phone rings, & sleeping like CRAP,
I've thought of you lovelies.
And how after all your love, support and understanding this past year
I wanted to share the joyful news with you.

Knowing, that for some it might bring a bit of sorrow for your own struggles
but hoping you feel renewed hope in knowing miracles happen.

Remember, McKinlee's a Louisiana baby.
Call it a coincidence,
but another bayou baby is such a miracle to us.

We're planning to fly out as soon as our sweet "D"
goes into labor (which could be anytime-she's 37 weeks)
and hopefully will get there in record time.

Mac is a Christmas baby (Santa knew just what I wanted...)
and this little man will be a MARDI GRAS baby.

I laughed today, while making an appointment for my annual
when I thought, "last year I was gearing up for IVF. Boy is she going to be surprised when I show up at my appointment with a little black baby."

It just goes to show, the Lord has his own plan and own timing.
How grateful I am that our time has come so quickly!

Transitions

2010-01-16T19:49:00.000-08:00

Perhaps the hardest choice a couple might face with infertility is knowing when enough is enough. When do you say, "this is it-our last IVF, AI, IUI, whatever." It's hard. Part of you feels like you are giving up. Throwing the towel in.

The first time for us, it just felt like we were done. In every sense of the word. (notice I said the first time? Who knew we'd do it all again?)
I was done with doctor's visits, shots, pills & crazy hormones.
My husband was done with having a moody, insane wife.

What we necessarily weren't prepared for was the transition.
We knew we had children who were meant for our family.
We knew infertility treatments weren't bringing them here.

It's a transition.
Going from knowing from your baby photos what your kids will look like.
To understanding that YOUR kids might not even be the same race.
Going from the general expectation of pregnancy and 9 months,
To not knowing when a child might come into your home.

The list goes on and on.
For me, it was a whole change of mind-set.
If we weren't doing any more procedures, what were we going to do?
(Heaven knows I just can't sit around and do nothing-I go CRAZY- crazier than clomid crazy)

Should we take a break?
Should we adopt?
Should we do foster care?
Should we just wait and see if our reproductive organs work it out?

People would ask us, "so are you just going to adopt?"
Know this: you don't "just" adopt.
There is more emotion, paperwork, heartache & drama than "just."
You have to be emotionally prepared.
Prepared to love a child that is not biologically yours.
And sometimes that is too difficult for people.

I threw myself head first into adoption.
And loved it!
Nothing can describe the overwhelming love you have for a birthmother & father and more so the overwhelming love you feel for a baby you just met.
(just to note: I really didn't feel 100% bonded to my adopted daughter until about a week after her birth--quite a common timeline with adoption--I got some tips from a great nurse!)

I will never forget calling my dad when we found out we had been matched with Mac.
He sounded disappointed at first-
and I instinctively knew it had finally hit him that my children wouldn't "look" like my children. They wouldn't have Grandpa's nose or Grandma's smile. I think it was a jolt to him.

But that's why it's a transition.
You change your way of thinking.
You re-evaluate what is really important.

And what was really important to me, was having a family.
It didn't matter how we became a family.

And while I still wistfully think of what labor might be like
or what our t-pott kids would look like,
I can't really imagine another story for our family
then getting a phone call about a new baby destined for us.

Two Already?!?

2009-12-09T14:54:00.001-08:00

Holy Smokes!

For Christmas/Birthday

(since they are the same day for little Mac)

gift for her birthfamily,

we had some photos taken of this almost 2 year old.

They are going to love them!

It's hard to believe it's been nearly two years

since our sweet baby Mac joined our family.

Ouch

2009-12-04T13:56:00.000-08:00

While we had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family (despite a raging cold in our family)
one comment from a sister-in-law still makes my heart hurt and burn with anger.

Keep in mind this sister in law is pregnant.

But in speaking about her pregnancy, and her struggle to get pregnant and stay pregnant
and our "similar" struggles with adoption and infertility she said,

"I'd rather have your trials than mine."

It reminded me of a talk I heard from Sheri Dew at a women's conference.
She shared a story about how after a different speaking engagement
a woman came up to her and asked,

"do you ever feel guilty that you chose a career over a family?"

(Sheri is in her 50's, never married or had children, despite all her prayers)

It was like she was speaking to me when she said
"if this woman could see the tears and the nights spent pleading with the Lord she never would have said that."

Not to say my trials are worse than others.

But if this sister could know fully the tears and sorrow
and prayers for the situation she is complaining about...

she never would have said that.

Nia Vardalos - National Adoption Day 2009 - Today Show

2009-11-20T08:42:00.001-08:00

I love that she says,
"I finally found you"
when she looked at her daughter.

Every day I think that about my daughter.
I finally found her.
That is what it's like.
You know your child before you ever meet them.
And I can't wait to find that next little one.

Hooray for National Adoption Day
and such an awesome spokesperson.

Timing

2009-11-17T14:36:00.000-08:00

I attended a stake training a few months ago
where someone shared this story about the early Saints in Kirkland.

The Saints knew that Kirkland was not their final stop, it wasn't Zion.
But they were there, and needed homes and needed to set up businesses.
And people were unsure of how settled to get in Kirkland.
Should they build with logs? Knowing they may not stay for long?
Or should they build with bricks
and make this their permanent home?
Would they be there for months or years or decades?

In answer to these questions
came the revelation in Doctrine & Covenants 51:

And I consecrate unto them this land for a little season, until I, the Lord, shall provide for them otherwise, and command them to go hence;

And the hour and the day is not given unto them, wherefore let them act upon this land as for years, and this shall turn unto them for their good.

The speaker spoke of how we do not know
the Lord's timing in all things.
But we should do our best with what we have
and act upon our circumstances like they will last for years.
And as we find joy in our circumstances,
they "shall turn" for our good.

I was reminded that the Lord will provide
when our "little season" of waiting is over.

How You Can Help Adoption

2009-11-09T15:28:00.001-08:00

While we may not get tax breaks or credits from any stimulus package (grrr)
and we have health insurance for which we pay monthly
which covers 100% maternity but 0% adoption...

We do qualify for the blessing of an adoption tax credit.

Did you know that domestic adoption costs an average $30,000?

No kidding.

Did you know that adoptive families can get a tax credit for about $12,000?

Did you know this is the main reason we can afford adoption?

Did you further know that this credit has an expiration date?

But did you know there is a bill which will extend this expiration?

Well, now you do!
So write to your representatives and be sure this credit sticks around.
It's a direct way you can help our family grow.

Democracy rocks.

Choosing An Agency

2009-10-30T16:11:00.000-07:00

So, you've made the decision to adopt.
Now you've just got to figure out who to adopt through.

Sounds easy?
It is really hard actually.

Most agencies have wonderful programs that fit families perfectly.
Most agencies are very upfront about fees, services provided, etc.
So do your research
and I guarantee the right agency for you will "pop" out.

This is what we looked for:

1) References. An agency could sound great, but previous adoptive couples will give you the real scoop on their experiences.

2) Failed placement refund/roll-over. If a birthmother changed her mind and decided to parent, we did not want to lose money invested already in our adoption experience.

3) Fees. What does the fees include? An agency might show a low fee, but it might not include medical, legal, birthmother expenses, etc. All those things still should count for your total expenses you are calculating. But don't forget many birthmoms are covered by medicaid, and adoption laws differ for each state (you might need more than one lawyer). Also beware of less expensive rates for African American children. I am bothered that anyone would say my daughter is "of less value" than another child. Be sure you know what you are paying for.

4) Percentage of failed/interrupted adoptions. Which leads to...

5) Birthmother support. Does the agency provide birthmothers with support before, during and after the birth?

6) Will the agency be supportive of our feelings in the adoption? Will they support our decision to not pursue a situation based on our feelings?

There are many things that contribute to how we've selected both agencies: the agency we used in the past and the one we chose for this adoption.

The most important factor to us:
the guidance of the Spirit.
The Lord will tell you what is right for your family.

Once we knew what to do, everything fell into place.
And today, we finished our homestudy.
Just waiting on our BCI (Background check)
and we'll be adoption ready!

It's Official: We're Adopting & Excited

2009-10-22T19:46:00.000-07:00

You probably read the title of this post and said "Duh."
Afterall, we said if the IVF was a bust this would be the next move.

Even after adopting once before, it's still not an instant answer.

There is a lot to consider:

1) finances, cause let's face it: adoption is muy expensive

2) emotions, IVF was an emotional roller coaster
we had to rebound from.

3) finances...we're still paying for Mac's adoption.

4) How long are we willing to wait?

5) How are we going to pay for this?

We prayed. We read our scriptures. We fasted.
And we never felt good about what our next step was
even after we made a decision.

Then we considered different agencies. Then we attended the temple, again.
And the clouds of doubt and trouble lifted.
We finally felt the peace knowing we're following the Lord's plan for us.

Yes we are adopting again
and finally so pumped about the how/when/who in our plans!

It's exciting to know that a little one will be joining our family
perhaps sooner than I thought.

Just a side note: We adopted Mac through a different agency than we're working with now. It was the right choice for us then, but we had a "not great" experience (so I have not listed them on the side bar). We know we'll have better with our agency this time. We've done our research and asked around (which you should always do) and we are more educated about what to expect and know our rights as adoptive parents. Just a word to the wise.

Unexpected Blessings

2009-10-19T16:05:00.000-07:00

I attended a stake leadership training this past week.
I had planned on learning more about cubscouts,
Nursery and other Primary related stuff.

I did not expect direct answers to my prayers.
But the Lord works in mysterious ways.

From the begining of the meeting to the end,
it felt as if this training was just for ME.
(Even my presidency commented).

As the meeting started,
I held back tears as I felt each word of our opening hymn:

"When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee, and sanctify to thee,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume, thy dross to consume,
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine."

The music was inspired to sing the LAST verses
of "How Firm a Foundation."

My heart has been through some fiery trials this year,
and I realize the Lord has called me to these "deep waters."
And I have felt like I was drowning in a river of sorrow.

But this past week, I was reminded that He is with me.
And He will bless my troubles.

I Got Nothing

2009-09-27T15:15:00.000-07:00

When we decided to adopt, it was October.
Our daughter was born Christmas Day.

We felt prompted to adopt.
It was a "go, go, go" and "hurry, hurry, hurry"
prompting.

We knew as soon as we saw the website
what agency we should use.
(It wasn't our first choice, but that's ok).

We got the phone call about our daughter
& birthmom ONE week before she was born.

We had already chosen not to pursue another situation.
(That was a really difficult day).
Because we felt it wasn't right for us.
(Thank goodness for the promptings because the birthmom decided to parent and we wouldn't have had enough moola on hand to adopt Mac a few weeks later).

After we adopted Mac,
we felt strong promptings to pursue IVF.
Strong promptings, even though we didn't think it would work.

It didn't work and I keep waiting for those promptings
to guide us to the next decision, the next path.
You know what?

I've got nothing.

I haven't sat still in this family making business.
I have been go & do.
So I am at a loss.
We have more kids, I know that.

I just have no idea what the Lord's plan is
to get them to our family.

What to expect when you're expecting...

2009-09-23T09:22:00.000-07:00

Life is hard.

And sometimes I just don't have that "grace under fire" thing down.
Especially when others announce they are expecting.
And I know that those expecting struggle with telling me they are pregnant.
Which almost makes it more sad for me.

Because I want to be happy for them and scream and shout for joy,
because I don't want those I love to have the pain of infertility.
But it's still a moment where I am glad for them but sad for me.
If you're infertile, you know exactly what I mean.

If I do say so myself, I do a pretty good job of being happy for them.
Even if I cry later in the shower for myself.
(I always cry in the shower...it's odd, but it's my place).

I'm trying and I genuinely am happy for those special people in my life.
But understand I may not go to your baby shower.
I certainly am not going to throw one for you.
I don't want to talk about how crappy being pregnant is.
And I don't want to talk about how my time will come.

This will help to avoid another "incident"
like the one I had at the gym.
Details to come.
Let's just say I freaked out on a stranger.
So sorry lady. You caught me on a bad day.

What to do after a failed IVF

2009-08-31T14:41:00.001-07:00

Go to Hawaii.

The Scoop...at last!

2009-08-31T14:03:00.000-07:00

It's taken me a while to finally write about our whole IVF cycle.
Not because I'm traumatized (ok I'm a little bit traumatized), but because it's been one crazy summer.

So here's the story:
After we decided to go ahead with Dr. G and the EcoIVF (mid-Feb), we paid our moola (May) and started getting blood tests and ultrasounds (June). Luckily, I have wonderful drs here in the state who were willing to order tests and get things done.
I didn't react to the meds as a normal "infertile" woman...my body is so regular that they actually had to increase the level of hormones to override my body regulating hormones so more than one follicle would mature.
After a few scares of "maybe" cancelling...those little follicles were ripe for the picking.

We jumped on a plane and flew
to New York for our egg retrieval (mid-June).
Overall, not a bad process,
since they knocked me out
(thank goodness).
It was an extra $$ option, but let's face it: a giant needle that would puncture the ovaries and suck out follicles (basically in laman's terms)? Ouch.
I opted for drugs, call me a wimp.

Even better, I was back to my usual self within an hour after the retrieval.

Since it is an IVF program with limited stimulation,
I had 3 mature eggs,
2 of which were retrieved and
1 of which fertilized.
Which we thought was perfect.

As that little embryo grew,
we toured the city (my most favorite city),
I dragged my husband to museums day after day,
we watched the Mets play
and after three days had the lone embryo implanted.

All of which went beautifully.
We had great eggs,
great sperm a
nd great endometrial layer.
Little embryo grew wonderfully, blah blah blah.
Everything was wonderful & great.

After two weeks of modified bed rest (boo). I started to spot.
Then came the serious flow, and a blood test confirmed the IVF failed.

It's been two months since, and I am still sorrowful.
I honestly thought, "all we needed was one egg."
We got it, but no pregnancy.
I do not regret trying.
In fact, someday we might try it again (call us crazy).

While some argue that NY was a silly choice because it will be just as challenging and expensive to try it again, since we don't have frozen embryos,
NY was the perfect choice for us.

While I do wonder why Heavenly Father would lead us to IVF and NY, only to have it not work, I do not doubt that it was what we were supposed to do.
Perhaps someday we'll know the reason why we needed to go through all this.

I am grateful that I have no doubt.
We almost reconsidered, A LOT.
Think swine flu outbreak in NY.
Or an unexpected $5500 in blood tests (ouch).
There were many more stumbling blocks along the way.

Each time, we'd wonder:
"Is this God telling us not to go?"
So we'd pray, think about it more and come to the same conclusion: that this was still what we should be doing.
We had that witness again and again.
I thought that it meant IVF would work.
I even had
"we are the champions" r
eady to play on our blogs-
we were going to be victorious over our infertility.

Those promptings I consider a gift. Because I don't wonder if we should have done it. I know it was the plan because I felt the prompting over and over.
It gives me great peace.

So now?
We've got our adoption paperwork started.
That's right! We're adopting again!
It may take us some time,
because the drama of our life never ends (future post to come).

We are headed down a new, but familiar path.
Hopefully, this time with a rainbow at the end, again.

You're Never Alone

2009-08-23T11:02:00.001-07:00

It's a marathon we run: to bring children into our homes, into our families.
No matter how we do it, there are hills.
Good thing we have eachother to cheer on.
Thanks for cheering for us, I keep cheering for you.
Remember:
"Fear Not, I am with thee
O, be not dismayed.
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand.
Upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand."

One helping down...

2009-08-19T14:40:00.000-07:00

Recently, my brother asked me: "isn't all of this (adoption/infertility) not as hard emotionally, because you are already a mother? You already have a baby."

It's something I too, expected after we adopted Mac.

That all of this heartache wouldn't be part of our life.

Boy, was I wrong.

While it's not as difficult, simply because we do have an answer to our prayer at our house, it is still an uphill battle everyday. A battle full of questions of "why?" and "when?" and "how?"

It's like going to an all-you-can-eat buffet. The really good kind in Vegas. And watching people fill their plates over, and over again. While you can only have one plate.

I'm still hungry after one plate.

You Scream, I Scream

2009-07-14T15:25:00.000-07:00

So remember how I mentioned that I am a big eater during times of sorrow?

Well, this week proves it.

We started the week with a gallon of vanilla ice cream and some leftover orange soda & rootbeer.

Now?

All of it is gone.

How much did Tyrell eat, you ask?

Not one bite.

In my defense, I have a sweet tooth and could eat ice cream at any moment without hesitation.

Same goes for cake. I LOVE cake.

But I don't know if I could really justify that orange float at 10:30 am last week.

But it was delicious.

One Failed IVF later...

2009-07-09T14:14:00.000-07:00

Ever seen Meet the Robinsons? Here's my favorite part:
"From failure, you learn. From success, not so much."

I am tired of learning.

But I never tire of great words,spoken to my heart.

Before we adopted McKinlee, a quote was dominantly displayed on our fridge.
Every time I opened that fridge
(which is a lot when I'm sad)
it was a sweet reminder to me.

It's from Janice Kapp Perry:
“You need not possess children to love them. Loving is not synonymous with possessing, and possessing is not necessarily loving. The world is filled with people to be loved, guided, taught, lifted, and inspired.”

At that time I was full of sorrow,
but soon had the joy of bringing home the miracle of McKinlee.
Now again, our hearts are full of sorrow,
and a new quote is on our fridge.

"Faith in something greater than ourselves enables us to do what we have said we'll do, to press forward when we are tired or hurt or afraid, to keep going when the challenge seems overwhelming and the course is entirely uncertain." -Gordon B. Hinckley

Heat Wave

2009-06-08T15:49:00.001-07:00

So this is it! 6 days of drugs & 9 days into the cycle. I learned today how to inject myself (a good skill to add to my list) and now my tummy is a bit sore.

Surprisingly, my regular hot flashes haven't been too bad. Previously, when I've been on the meds before, I would break out in sweat & turn bright red. A bit embarassing, especially when I was in the middle of a meeting at work.

Mostly, today I am grateful for a wonderful doctor here. He gave me after hour numbers so I could call him if I needed him to check something, or order something for Dr. G in NY. His nurses gave me a crash course on injections. Plus they gave me smaller needles. The ones from the pharmacy in NY? Gigantic.

Now the needles are less scary, so hopefully self injection won't be too bad either. Perhaps Jill, you should be prepared to stick me...just in case I get cold feet.

Somedays I wonder the point of all this infertility business. What am I learning, or supposed to be learning? Why is all this trouble part of the plan for our family?

I often think the answer to that is compassion. I have more compassion for others now.

Because I know what it's like to wish with all your might for a positive test, but it turns out negative.

I know what it's like to sit in church on Mother's Day and not be a mother.

I know what it's like to put in adoption paperwork and have everything about your life

examined.

I know what it's like to wait and then get a phone call about being chosen by a birth mother.

I know what it's like to be anxiously waiting IVF.

I know what it's like to hope desperately your first child won't be your only child.

Perhaps in a month, I will know what it's like to have a successful IVF.

Or perhaps, we will have the compassion for those whose attempt failed.

Either way, I am nervous/excited/anxious/shy/unsure/overwhelmed and so ready to try!

McKinlee's part of this list...

2009-06-08T15:12:00.001-07:00

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

2009-05-28T21:13:00.000-07:00

Or is it?

We almost went to NY in May. Almost.

Instead, we had another HSG (so much better than the first- when it was over I didn't even know it started).

Now... looks like we're on for June.

That's right! Just a few more days before I become a human pincushion. And just a few more days until we FINALLY get this show on the road.

And perhaps FINALLY get some closure on all this business.

Is it odd to be so anxious to just be done and either have a great result, or know we tried our best and now can move on?

But, ready or not...here we go!

And some stellar news, our insurance became rockstars and paid for all our pre-ivf testing. That's a grand total of $5,250. No kidding. I could have reached through the phone and hugged the lady when she told me. It was like Christmas day at our house.

I quit

2009-05-22T23:05:00.003-07:00

2009-05-20T17:15:00.000-07:00

If you don't read Moosh, for shame! Not only is she another struggling through infertility (secondary at that), she is a fabulous writer.

This was all confirmed by these latest posts: Faith and I am the pregnancy rule

here's a bit of my favorite:

But there’s also times when it’s really hard. When something I’ve worked so hard for never quite seems to work out in the way I think it should.

Infertility is an excellent example of this.
There is a huge part of my heart that wants to be done with all the tests and waiting. But there is also a very rebellious part of my heart that knows it’s just not my time and it’s not up to me to say ‘when.’

There’s another kerfuffle currently brewing in my life that I have thrown myself and my faith head first into. I want so badly to see even just one tiny improvement. To know all the sacrifice, fasting, tears and hours spent on my knees in prayer has helped.

Amen, sister.

Happy Anniversary

2009-05-06T15:31:00.001-07:00

Grow old along with me,

the best is yet to be.

Happiest Anniversary, my love.

Wilson & Me

2009-04-21T16:32:00.000-07:00

Wilson is another member of our family. Sure, he drools, has made trails in our grass, and leaves plenty of unmentionable piles in our backyard. But he's part of the family.

We got Wilson when we bought our first home (I know, totally crazy to add an insane dog to a new house). He will soon celebrate his 4th birthday. Some of the neighbor kids are terrified of his spastic ways, but others love him like he's their own dog.

Wilson has chewed up plenty of sprinkler lines. He loves eating bones. He has even eaten the carpet from his dog house. The saddest casualty was the air conditioner he put to rest. Or maybe it's the beautiful maple trees he ate when we were in route to meet Mac.

Ah, the memories.

Either way, our life would not be the same without him.

Gladly, Mac loves Wilson. And Wilson loves Mac. While he's jumped on nearly ever person he's met (although this number is not growing like it once did), he has never jumped on Mac.

Instead he licks her face, comes to her if she cries, and always must be checking on her, making sure she's ok. If she falls down, he's there waiting for her to stand back up (and maybe his tail occasionally whacks her, much to her dismay).

He's a sweet, crazy dog. And we love him! And love him more for loving Mac.

Have you seen the movie, "marley & me?"

I swear to you, it is the story of our lives. Miscarriage and all.

You could call us Owen & Jen.

And Wilson, Marley.

The Sweetest Sight

2009-04-21T16:18:00.000-07:00

We've had a lot of family functions the past few months, and there have been babies, babies everywhere (anyone know the Color Box book? Love it). At my Grandfather's 80th birthday party, Mr. TPott was holding a relative's new baby. He loves babies and is such a great daddy. Then he turned to me and said,
"take her, holding her is making me too sad."
(my heart broke for him).

Then we went to a cousin's wedding and instead of dancing with his incredibly hot wife, he opted to hold and feed my other cousin's baby. It melted my heart (let's face it, I also hate dancing).
We've had a phethera of friends and family announce pregnancies in the last few weeks, and sometimes it's a tough pill to swallow.

Not because we're not overjoyed for them, because we are! We love you guys!

But we are sad for ourselves. The past week I was sorry for myself.

But hopefully, I've picked myself up off the floor and am ready for a new week.

sorrow that the eye can't see

2009-04-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

Today I discovered that my fertility champion passed away.

Just last week I saw him at my follow-up appointment,
he played with Mac and gave her suckers.

I had another appointment today, and received a phone call to let me know about his tragic death. My amazing fertility dr died this weekend, at the young age of 39.

Now, despite our professional aquaintance, he's been our champion for nearly 3 years. He's the guy who did all 6 IUIs, was with us through surgery & tests, and has been doing all our IVF preparation. Through all this, he's become a friend.

He was the first doctor who made me feel that my infertility was just as important to him as the pregnancy of the next patient.

He was a true warrior for our infertility & sorrow.

In fact, he was the one who randomly thought of us and hooked us up with EcoIVF.

We owe him a lot, he directly helped us through the toughest trial of our lives.

He is the dad to four little ones, and supported all our efforts in becoming parents- especially our adoption of Mac.

So, thanks Brett, for always believing in my uterus.

How Sweet It Is

2009-04-08T14:02:00.000-07:00

Monday was a long day. I dropped my sweet girl at daddy's work, then headed to the dr's for a hysterosonogram. Oh the joy.

Now for those of you yet to experience this lovely procedure, let me fill you in: Dr's lie, nurses lie. Ironically, moosh just posted about this same topic.

You see, they will tell you that there will be slight cramping and minor pain. What a joke.

I took my 800 mg of ibuprofen and it still rocked my world.

Let's just say, there were tears and the lovely nurse said, "now you know a bit about labor."

Honestly, I almost bagged the whole "baby from my own womb" thing right there.

After my cup of juice and crackers (apparently it also can give you lightheadedness & tingling in all extremities), I had more blood taken.

I joked with the nurse (and all the ladies in the lab as I left):

"all this junk better lead to a baby."

Transracial Adoption

2009-03-31T17:20:00.000-07:00

Adoption has been on my mind this week.

So has moola. Why just yesterday, the doctor sucked nearly 1 pint & $1000 worth of blood from my arm. All that blessed pre IVF testing. Joy.

But while I was having a "twilight" moment at the dr., I also had the joy to spread some adoption love. You see, because I'm a white mama, with a darling black bambino, most people correctly assume that we are a family through adoption.

Which I love!
It's like having a sign that reads, "ask me about adoption."

Nearly every where we go, we are able to talk with people about our experience and our love of adoption. It is fabulous.

It is amazing to also to be a family that shows that

families come in all shapes, sizes and colors.
Transracial adoption is still a bit controversial, a bit less common outside of Utah. Seriously.

When we first decided to adopt, I wasn't 100% on board for a transracial adoption. I worried.

Not necessarily for myself, I worried for that baby, that baby's future.

But, I have a wonderful Aunt who shared our story with a friend. And she shared her story with me. Her letter changed my heart about transracial adoption. After reading it, I knew it was something I could do and something I wanted to do.

Before reading her letter, I dreamed about our family and we were all white & alike.

After her letter, when I dreamed about our family, there was always children of different races.

maybe her letter will touch your heart too:

I am black and was adopted by an ALL white family. I was adopted at 5 weeks old in 1973. My family was eager and willing to bring me into their home and extended family never blinked an eye.

Growing up just seemed normal for me. My mom did have to learn some things like, how to "do my hair" and we found people around that were willing to help. People have asked me on several occasions growing up (and even to this day) what it was like to be black in an all white family. My response to them many times is... sometimes I forget I'm black until I look in the mirror. I don't mean that as a bad thing, it is just I am part of the family, it is how it has always been and will always be. In school (like elementary years) I would at times get questions like, "is that your mom?" and I simply responded yes and we moved on. No one really made a big deal out of it. I am the oldest of three children. My parents wanted to adopt first and then they biologically had my two sisters.

In all honesty they only real time that I felt a little "out of place" was during my fist year in college at University of Washington. I really had not been exposed to too much prejudice or negativity about the dynamics of my family prior to that. I do remember trying to "learn" a little more about "who I was" during that college year though. I went to a few meetings for an all black sorority- it was interesting, but not really my thing. I did notice that I was much more comfortable being in a room full of white people and me being the only black person than I was being in a room full of black people. There is a different way of communicating with each other and dynamics among people. Although on the outside I looked like I belonged, on the inside I definitely noticed a difference. I jokingly say with friends (who mind you are all white but one) I am the whitest black person they will ever know.

My parents did not go all out to celebrate African American traditions and cultures and you may have a different feel about that. I was simply part of the family and we did what the family did. My grandparents and parents did do things like... one Christmas we (my cousins, my sisters and me) all got cabbage patch dolls for Christmas- do you remember those they came with adoption papers and you had your own doll that you adopted from the patch. You got to dress them and everything. Well my grandparents gave me a white doll and everyone else received a black doll. No one blinked an eye. After they were unwrapped, we just played. We all at one point got Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls (home made of course) and some got a white version and some got a black version. Barbie dolls came in all shades across the years. I think just treating "the difference" as no big deal is what helped me to realize I simply am who I am. I love my family, they love me and support any and everything that I do.

I wish you the very best of luck. I think (of course) that adoption is a great thing. My mom had a saying that was up in my room from a baby on that read: Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own. Never forgot for a single minute, you didn't grow under my heart but in it.

This letter changed my life, literally.

A month after receiving it, we had a beautiful black baby girl.

We feel lucky to be surrounded by other families who have adopted transracially. I know it will be a blessing for our family to have families in our neighborhood, ward & stake that look like ours.

Mostly, I feel lucky that Heavenly Father sent a precious girl to us to be part of our family. No matter her color, or my color...we are still a family. And an eternal one at that.

All the Paperwork

2009-03-24T13:24:00.001-07:00

Since this is a blog just for all that fertility business...here's the latest "drama" at our house.

IVF is not something to enter in lightly. (You're thinking, duh).

Since our rocking' acceptance into the IVF program of our choice, we've been filling out paperwork. Now this is not the medical history junk, all dr's have you fill out. This is serious stuff. So serious in fact, that since we are out of state, we have to have our
signatures notarized.

No kidding.

It's time for big decisions. These decisions are big no matter what, but religion comes to play highly in these decisions for us. Ethics & morals, baby.

Of course, there are lots of papers to sign about inherent risks of IVF (multiples, no positive outcome, hyperovarian stim...etc).

The paperwork also includes a three page disclaimer, because IVF is new. There could be risks to children born from IVF. After all, the first "test tube" baby isn't that old. There is also a lengthy few paragraphs about how fertility drugs may have unknown effects, also because they are so new and haven't been around for long term evaluation.

Awesome. But, we feel good about it, so we power on.

Then come the papers that give us some decisions to make. Tough decisions.
For example:

If we have a larger number of embryos, do we want to freeze some for another cycle?
If so, what if we never use all those embryos?
What kinds of disposal do we feel comfortable with?
How would we like the embryos destroyed?

There's the kicker.

We're pro life people. Due to faith, personal beliefs, and due to the fact that we have Mac because someone else is pro life too, we believe in life. I think of all the families who could have a child to love, and it saddens me to know that for many the only choice is abortion. I could scream it from the roof tops!

Adoption!!!

So how do we feel about embryos?

Honestly, I feel like we won't have many to start with, so this point is somewhat moot.
But...what if?

(Keep in mind some IVF cycles have more than 16 eggs develop--that could mean a whole lot of embryos- if they are all viable).

My first reaction was, "why are they asking me now? why don't we cross that bridge if we get there?"

Their reaction, "You'll be too emotional to make these decisions later. Now you can rationally make these choices, without too much emotion in play."

Which, I admit, is true. If I had to make decisions in NYC, during a cycle, I would be on the crazy drugs. I do not think rationally on crazy drugs. No arguing.

Which means we're making decisions. Tough ones.

How do we feel about embryos?

I guess we'll just have to use them all

(in a stricly, non-octomom kind of way).

P.S. I was reading this and the thought struck me- Man! With Mac's adoption paperwork and now this...that's a whole lot of paperwork to have a family. Crazy.

We are In

2009-03-11T18:27:00.000-07:00

So, since we're just "laying it all out there," here's a bit more into our random journey of IVF.
I call it random because, to me, it is. When we decided to adopt, I let go of all those "baby from my own womb" feelings. We were divinely directed to adopt. And at the time, I really felt like we would adopt from here on out.

But then...Heavenly Father showed his sense of humor, and we felt prompted to move back into the infertility treatment business. So here we are.

Now the moola is downright frightening. IVF can cost a bucket load.

So we felt good about exploring an option told to us by our fertility doc and a friend. It's called EcoIVF. Compared to the University here, it's about half the cost (including drugs).

It's a program part of the CHR (Center for Human Reproduction) in NYC. You have to qualify for it, and be "accepted" into the program for the sweet discount.

There is a difference between EcoIVF and regular IVF. They discount for a reason.

Typically with IVF, the amount of hormones and "crazy" drugs (as we call them here) are enough to produce up to 16 eggs suitable for fertilization. With these crazy drugs there are potential risks: including that of ovarian hyperstimulation, which is quite serious.

EcoIVF, in essense, does lower dosage, fewer crazy drugs. So, the average woman will have any where from 1-4 eggs mature.

Now, you're thinking 4 is plenty! There is no need for another octuplet mother!

But when you're talking eggs, you have to consider viability. Maybe you'll have 4 bum eggs. Maybe only 1 will be viable. And with the odds of IVF (25% each egg implanted) you need all the goodies you can get. Plus, the cost for IVF #2 is less if you've got some sweet frozen embryos (no retrieval).

But, on the plus side, less drugs = less chance of the high risks of side effects of the high dosage.
So we're taking a chance. It could mean no viable embryos. No chance for a baby. Or it could mean a baby for less moola. Either way, we're in it.

And today, we found out that we've been accepted.

Now we just need to have more blood tests, physical exams...blah, blah, blah.

A Brother & Sisters...

2009-03-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

I chatted with Mac's birthmom yesterday. We have an open adoption with her, it's about a monthly thing to send photos and talk on the phone. She was getting homework done with kids and trying to get them into bed. The kids were yelling and playing in the background.

We never met any of Mac's biological siblings, but yesterday I was delighted to talk to her 4 year old sister. All the questions I asked her, she responded "yes mam'." I kept thinking, Mac has sisters! And a brother! None of whom know she exists.

It will be an interesting conversation we have with Mac some day.

Luckily, I can show her some photos of this 4 year old sister

who look so much like Mac, I'm startled when I see photos.

I'll have to teach Mac to answer with "Yes Mam." After all, she's a Southern girl.

Making Our Deposit

2009-03-04T21:51:00.000-08:00

Image courtesty of Google

So nothing can quite compare to the experience of yet again depositing another "specimen" to the beloved laboratory. Mr. TPott might cringe when he reads this, but nevertheless...it is a subject worth talking about.

Perhaps the most interesting point about infertility is the "openness" you become accustomed to whilst being prodded, poked and tested.

Mr. TPott has never been too shy when it comes to our infertility. He tells random strangers about what's going on quite frequently (to my shock and horror). He's just that kind of guy, leave it all in the open and no one will wonder what's going on.

Before we even thought about starting our family, he'd always joke:

"maybe my boys won't swim."

Believe you me, there were plenty of heated discussions about that stupid joke.
And what do you know? They can swim, just a little bit crazily.

So our doctors want to run more tests. Yes, it's been over 18 months since the last ones, so I'll grant them that...but if you've never had all the tests run here's the low down: expensive, invasive, embarrassing, expensive, not really informative, expensive.

You can see we're excited about it.

Last week it was blood tests. Keep in mind that Mr. TPott gives blood on a required basis only. He's the guy that ends up needing a cookie, juice and a chair for a LONG time after. The last time he had his blood tests taken, he called me on his drive back to work.

Our conversation:
Me: How did it go?
Him: I had to stay for a while. They gave me a cookie.
Me: It's not even that much blood.
Him: I can't talk about it anymore, I might pass out.
Me: Seriously?
Him: Change the subject. I'm pulling over.

This week it was a dreaded SA.

While we're open people about all of our infertility & our general reproductive health
(which might be more obvious after this posting),
this is the most hated test of all.

But, something we're accustomed to. After all, this is SA number 4,
plus 6 cycles of IUI where the cup is mandatory.

We survive by laughing & joking a lot.

For some reason, this is the most embarrassing moment of infertility.
We make bargains and deals on who gets to drop the deposit off to the lab- because despite the nice, professional nurse behind the counter,
it is just a weird conversation to have with a complete stranger.

This time it was no different. Mr. TPott lightened the situation by joking,
"Oh, all those people who never get to experience this fun are really missing out."

That's the kicker of infertility. All our lives we're trained to keep our "bedroom doors shut," what happens there is private between spouses. But infertility seems to open those doors to doctors, nurses, med students and the receptionists in their clinics...

And I just let you in, just a bit.
And why not?
After all, Mr. TPott probably has already told some random stranger on the street.

Going to Australia

2009-03-01T14:34:00.000-08:00

Image courtesy of wikipedia

Deciding to have a baby is like planning a trip to Australia. You've heard it's a wonderful place, you've read many guidebooks and feel certain you're ready to go. Everyone you know has traveled there by plane. They say it can be a turbulent flight with occasional rough landings, but you can look forward to being pampered on the trip.

So you go to the airport and ask the ticket agent for a ticket to Australia. All around you, excited people are boarding planes for Australia. It seems there is no seat for you; you'll have to wait for the next flight. Impatient, but anticipating a wonderful trip, you wait--and wait--and wait.

Flights to Australia continue to come and go. People say silly things like, "Relax. You'll get on a flight soon." Other people actually get on a plane and then cancel their trip, to which you cry, "It's not fair!"

After a long time the ticket agent tells you, "I'm sorry, we're not going to be able to get you on a plane to Australia. Perhaps you should think about going by boat."

"By BOAT!" you say. "Going by boat will take a very long time and it costs a great deal of money. I really had my heart set on going by plane." So you go home and think about not going to Australia at all. You wonder if Australia will be as beautiful if you approach it by sea rather than air. But you have long dreamed of this wonderful place, and finally you decide to travel by boat.

It is a long trip, many months over many rough seas. No one pampers you. (So true!)You wonder if you will ever see Australia. Meanwhile, your friends have flown back and forth to Australia two or three more times, marveling about each trip.

Then one glorious day, the boat docks in Australia. It is more exquisite than you ever imagined, and the beauty is magnified by your long days at sea. You have made many wonderful friends during your voyage, and you find yourself comparing stories with other who also traveled by sea rather then by air.

People continue to fly to Australia as often as they like, but you are about to travel only once, perhaps twice. Some say things like, "Oh, be glad you didn't fly. My flight was horrible; traveling by sea is so easy."

You will always wonder what it would have been like to fly to Australia. Still, you know God blessed you with a special appreciation of Australia, and the beauty of Australia is not in the way you get there, but in the place itself.

By Diane Armitage printed in the April 21, 1995 "Dear Abby" column.

Being Positive

2009-03-01T13:49:00.000-08:00

I'm a fairly positive person. I would say that I also am fairly calm and level headed. Mostly. However, despite a calm exterior, when it comes to having babies, I am somewhat manic. Perhaps it's the remnants of clomid (or as Mr. TPott calls it, my "crazy pills"), or perhaps that point is the height of my emotions- just waiting to spill over the edge.

Either way, it's difficult to be positive when surrounded by the chances to be negative.

Some days, I'm cool and calm and collected. I feel at peace, all is well, blah, blah.

Some days, I see a commercial for baby wipes and I'm a mess.

(Have you seen the newest Gerber commercial, with all the pregnant moms "pledging" their best to their baby?) I saw it once, and now immediatly change the channel when it comes on.

It's too much. In fact, it tempts me to throw things at the TV.

Our situation is an interesting one in the fact that we have no diagnosed reason for our infertility. Sure, the doctors have found minor issues: a bit of endometriosis, a bit of motility & mutation issues, but none of which are so overwhelming that it is "the cause."

Which leads to a roller coaster life. Because there is that chance, that one month it just might happen. The stars might align and BAM, no more negative- just positive results.

The odds are with us, right?

Which is why, for the last two weeks, I have been dumpy. No matter how you prepare yourself and talk yourself out of expecting a different outcome, there is the slim hope that this might be the miracle month. And then, you're at Walmart buying more Tampax.

But while you're throwing that hated purchase into your cart, you notice the sweet toddler in pink has actually eaten through the peel of the bananas and is now covered in disgusting banana mess. The milk sippy cup has been chewed up and the cereal box is now soggy from the spilt milk, and she goes straight for the tampon box (because, let's face it what kid doesn't like taking ALL of them out?)

And despite the gross mess, the ruined groceries and the stares from strangers, you can't help but laugh and feel lucky.

Because you are the mom to that boogey, banana covered, sippy chewer.

You feel sad that you've been

so distracted from the miracle you already have- because you've been so concerned with the one you haven't had.

So despite the bruise on your arm from the most recent blood tests, the need to buy more ovulation sticks and more tampons, printing more pass along cards and the savings account that might soon be empty...

you feel like you're on top of the world.

And all the hot flashes, shots, blood tests and money

feel like small penance for such a wonderful blessing.

All of your negativity melts away, because there is that positivity saying,

"it will all be worth it...again."

No matter how the next TPott comes...whatever we do to help them get here will be worth whatever price we paid.

2009-02-18T21:00:00.000-08:00

Found this post from a fellow infertile blogger and had to post it myself. To check it out, and check out her blog, click here. I think it is beautifully written and speaks right to my soul! It's exactly what I mean to say, only she said it first!

Plus, again, I love knowing that I'm not the only girl who feels this way: the guilt that I am a mother, I have a beautiful daughter...and yet there is still that sorrow for more!

What's that line from "Juno?" I think she calls a family with kids who are looking to adopt again, greedy.

So there so you go. I admit it. And I love being greedy.

It's like chocolate. I love it. I crave it.

And I'm not talking about the sweet "chocolate" baby in the next room.

I love motherhood. I love children.

So I'm going to fill that longing and find me some more sweet babies to love!

Anywho, here is that rockin' post:

The wave hit me while visiting my friend in the hospital and holding her brand new perfect baby boy...well, to be honest, I could feel the wave approaching a few days before that as I sat beside her with my hand on her belly feeling the little boy kick and squirm inside her. This, along with the birth of my wonderful niece and my admiration for my "little" sister who did such an amazing job giving birth to baby Mina... all these factors were contributors to the wave, I believe.

This was not a wave of nausea, rather a wave of sadness with a distinct after taste of longing. Longing for pregnancy, longing for feeling a baby develop inside me, the curiosity of creating life the looks like Kenneth and I.

This has happened a few times before. Of course, before Eden came, it was more like a constant waterfall of grief. But once I had come to terms with infertility and was blessed with Eden, I figured that was all "water under the bridge".

Not so.

The first time the wave hit me after Eden's arrival I was utterly shocked. What business does this wave have, coming into my life, messing up my day! I was a mother now! That was all I ever wanted, wasn’t' it? I had a child, an amazing, perfect child who had not yet learned about sharpie marker fests. What did I have to be sad about?

The wave came again, a little while after Oakley was born. Again I addressed it like an invader, an unwanted stranger who was knocking at the wrong door. "Sorry, Mr. Wave of Sadness and Wo, I think you have me confused with the other infertile woman down the road. I have COME TO TERMS. I am done. I will never have stretch marks. Please go away."

I am learning, though, that this is a wave that will likely hit me off and on for most of my life. This does not mean that I wish I had been pregnant instead of adopting the children I have -- My kids could not have been who they are without the things their birthparents gave them.

From where I am standing now, I would not go back and recreate my life any other way.

I am on a different path. For the first time in my life I am starting to understand that this is a DIFFERENT path than if I had created children in my womb. Until now I have thought that adoption was just a jump-skip along the way on the same path, I don't think this is so. Though the outcome is similar - I am a mother to wonderful children - but there are going to be different challenges in my life, there will be different blessings in my life, there will be different joys.

Different is okay. Different is good. I love different. But different is not the same.

I Would Die For That

2009-02-18T20:15:00.001-08:00

Doesn't this just say it all?

I Would Die For That, cont.

2009-02-18T19:53:00.001-08:00

Love that song and video.

Somedays it's a hard pill to swallow that in so many ways we can't control what happens in our lives. Especially when it comes to infertility.

It's hard to not know when, or if another child might come into our family.

It's hard not to be able to just "decide" and nine months later have a child.

And while I love that my sisters call to share their news, it's hard to not feel that sadness in my heart that we're not making the calls to share that we're expecting.

Sometimes I just want to shout, "it's not fair!" But mostly, I want to share with those sisters, how this miracle is something they shouldn't take for granted. So many others would love that chance that comes so easily to my sisters.

Love you, all my fertile myrtle sisters.

But those moments, send me to look in my sleeping toddler's room.

And looking at her sweet face (a bit boogey, but still cute), I can't help but feel the overwhelming gratitude that I have her as my daughter.

Heavenly Father knew I needed her, and she needed me. And he knew that she needed to come a special way to our family. We needed to adopt.

I count my lucky stars,

and realize she's all the more precious because it took so long to get her here.

Being a mother is more precious to me because of the infertility in my life.

Another Infertility Article To Love

2009-02-17T14:58:00.000-08:00

Another Rockin' Article I have come across in our years of infertility. I love reading articles about infertility and adoption because it helps my own feelings feel validated. It is reasurring that my moments of despair, heartache, joy and deep sorrow are understood by others. It's helps me know that I am not crazy! And that yes, I am dealing with things like others in this situation. It's always good to know you're not alone when facing a trial. I hope it inspires others too! It's written by Jayne E. Taylor.

A large portion of our lives as Latter-day Saints centers on reproduction, parenthood, and raising children.

When couples become aware that reproduction is delayed or unattainable, they enter a stage of emotional crisis--the crisis of infertility. The emotions include feelings of surprise, denial, frustration, anger, guilt, and typically isolation. Another initial reaction is the sense of helplessness and anger at losing control over one's life plan and body. This reaction is particularly true of people who are goal-oriented and people who need to have control over their lives. The feelings of one or both partners may negatively interfere with many areas of their marriage such as communication, sexual adjustment, and the whole quality of their life.

A common fear for an infertile couple is that the fertile partner might abandon the infertile one, or worse, stay in the relationship resentfully. Some even make offers of divorce or say such provoking things as, "Well, if you had married someone else, you would have a family by now." The fertile partner may hide his or her disappointment and anger instead of dealing honestly with his or her feelings. Often we find that single people who know they are infertile will retreat from relationships or keep them superficial because they don't want this dreadful secret to be out. Married people may do the same.

Infertility can also reactivate unresolved past feelings of danger or loss. Sexuality can become extremely threatened. One Relief Society sister told an infertile woman, "You are not really a woman until you have borne a child."

The next phase following the initial shock centers on body image and self-worth. Feelings of worthlessness, defectiveness, and shame are common. People become preoccupied with the infertility workup, formulate theories about why this has happened to them, why they are defective, and why they are denied something that the rest of the world can take for granted. Barbara Manning, the past National Resolve president, said,

"There's a sense of loneliness and isolation in infertility that defies description. The couple frequently feel they have no one to turn to, but each other. Family and friends are often reluctant to discuss such a personal and inherently sexual problem. If they do listen, they seem to answer with platitudes and misinformation born of generations of mythology and superstition. Somehow worthiness and pregnancy get conflated. "

Because of these feelings of failure and inadequacy, it is hard for a couple to discuss this with anybody. Defense mechanisms are often set up to deal with family and friends. A man and a woman often feel damaged and defective. I have heard women describe themselves as feeling hollow or empty. One woman described herself as looking like Hiroshima after the bomb. Men describe themselves as castrated or talk about intercourse as shooting blanks.

These feelings of defectiveness go further. Many people comment that they cannot do anything right. One woman was unable to work on her doctoral dissertation; she said that her mind was sterile also. I had a very hard time going back for my master's degree until I had resolved some of my feelings about infertility. Somehow it affected my whole inner self.

The monthly menstrual cycle is a terrible reminder and an enormous tension builds up towards the end of each cycle. Many women feel a deep depression verging on despair when menstruation begins. The intensity lessens over time, yet it is still always there as a reminder.

The next phase involves mourning the loss of the children a couple will never biologically have.

This is a very difficult task because the loss is so vague. It is hard to define a potential. There are no funerals, no rituals to help the bereaved. It is an invisible process. I work in an intensive care unit with parents who lose children. For the most part, they have a lot of support systems--family actually present, support from family members not physically present, people who work with them, support groups, and a funeral helps them through the grief process. But people who are infertile may have no one to talk to.

The final step is that of resolution. The couple must now redefine their sexuality so that procreation is not a central point and work at regaining a healthy self-image.

Conclusive knowledge can help people who know there is absolutely no chance of ever becoming pregnant. They can close the chapter, go through the grief process, and continue with their lives. One woman I talked to recently had had a hysterectomy after years of trying to become pregnant. She was surprised at the relief she felt knowing that she couldn't become pregnant. There are many cases of infertile women who have had tubal legations just so they can't get pregnant.

The couple must assess their inner resources and decide what they are going to do in the absence of biological children. Sometimes this has to become a joint decision on which they can both agree, or the relationship will not last--or if it does, it will be unhappy. If you continue to have faith, does that mean you continue to go to the doctors?

The nonresolution of infertility can be a leading cause of failure in adoptive placements. Adoption may symbolize one's inadequacy in reproduction, and the presence of the child will actually be seen as a narcissistic injury for a couple who has not worked through that infertility. The point is, adoption does not cure infertility. Anecdotal evidence to the contrary, the statistics simply do not show that adoption cures infertility. Adoption and infertility are two different issues.

Failure to grieve is the most common block to resolution and the easiest to help. Every person has losses. We all have losses. It is very useful to give people permission to grieve. They must realize and acknowledge that a loss of great magnitude has taken place and that to grieve is normal. Also, grief runs a predictable course, and the pain does lessen as time goes on.

In summary, the challenges to most infertile individuals/couples, and particularly those in the LDS culture, are very significant and far-reaching, in part due to many contributory cultural factors. Most people in the resolution of those challenges go through the steps of emotional crisis, mourning, and resolution. A social support system is very helpful in the successful resolution. As we remain mindful of these points, we can make a significant contribution to those suffering with infertility.

References
Mazor, M (1979). Barren couples. Psychology Today, p. 101.
Menning, B. (1975). The infertile couple: A plea for advocacy. Child Welfare, 54, pp. 454-459.
Packer, Boyd K. (1973). Why stay morally clean. Salt Lake City, UT: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Tanner, N. Eldon (1973, January). ENSIGN, pp.7-8.

Black Baby, White Mama

2009-02-15T18:37:00.001-08:00

One of the joys and challenges of adopting a baby of a different race is the looks we get.

From all kinds of people, in all kinds of places.

Inevitably, it will be a serious discussion when Mac has her first experience with racism, or when she asks the question, "Why are we different?"

But having a transracial family also is a great way for us to share our feelings that families are families. Whether they look alike or not. Families made by love, not by color.

When people see our family, it's obvious Mac is adopted. What a blessing it has been to be stopped in the grocery store, airport or bowling alley and have the chance to share our story and our love of adoption. Occasionally, we still get the comment: "Are you going to tell her she's adopted?"

Seriously.

I must admit sometimes I want to lie and say she's a medical mystery. A genetic mystery.

Whether her adoption was obvious or not, we will always tell our children about their birth families and how lucky we feel that they gave us the gift of a family. We feel so blessed to have Mac, and her presence in our family is the direct result of a birth family making a difficult and selfless choice. We will always celebrate adoption with our kids.

Mac's birth family story is a bit unusual. Her birth mom is 30, her birth father 33. They are married, they have five other children. At the time she was placed, they were separated. Neither had jobs, they had lost so much in hurricane Katrina. They felt neither financially, physically or emotionally able to care for another child. The pregnancy, birth and adoption of this child is a secret.

Her birth parents know.

We know.

The hospital social worker knows.

Our social worker & agency staff know.

But that's it.

So, I find myself incredibly defensive in our birthmom's behalf. We did not "save" this baby from a terrible life, as so many people assume. Racial stereotypes are rampant when it comes to adoption.

She would have been loved. Her birthparents are good people. Good people who made a choice to give their child the chance to go to college (we promised them we'd get her there), to give their child two parents who would love the baby and each other, and they gave their five other children the opportunity for more by giving our family more. What an amazing sacrifice for what they felt was right for them.

T, Mac's birthmom, says she knew from the very begining that this was what she wanted for her baby. She went to all her appointments, but never saw an ultrasound, or sonogram. She didn't learn the baby's gender. She felt like this child needed to be a part of another family.

What an awesome lady.

We love her. We love her husband.

They gave us a joyful gift.

They made us parents.

Being a different race never mattered to us. To us, a baby was a baby. Sure, I've got mounds still to learn about ethnic hair and how to care best for her skin and hair. And sure, we'll no doubt have a few explanations that a one race family might not have.

Honestly, I forget we're different. Until I pull her from the tub and see us in the mirror, and I think: "Oh yeah, we're different." She's Mac and that's what Mac looks like.

I love that I am a Mama. Who cares that I'm a white Mama.

Bless that little Primary child who asked me when we first brought Mac home:

"Why is your baby dark and you are light?"

I gave a ten minute speel about where adopted babies come from.

And he said, "So some babies are dark?"

Yes, some babies are dark, some babies are light. But all babies are children of God.

Finding Our Way Over Mt. Everest

2009-02-07T15:41:00.000-08:00

Mr. TPott and I have been considering, for months now, how to make our family grow by having another child. For us, it's not the simple equation of "do it, and they will come." In fact, it's a conversation that throughout the past year we've skirted around, and steered clear of. Oh sure, we've had the "lets have more kids," comments and the inevitable question follows, "how?" But no game plan, no strategy. Then came Mac's 1st birthday and with it, the need again to start the process of building our family.

Rewind three years. When Mr. TPott and I decided to add kids to our family we had the simple expectation of a few months and we'd start the nine month countdown to baby. But months passed and we still had no bun in the oven. Soon six months had passed and the good ol' annual exam came. The Dr. said no need to worry: the average couple is pregnant within the first year of trying.

Then, it was a year and nothing had happened and all of a sudden I felt an urge and drive to get things going stronger than I had ever felt. I felt compelled to do all we could as soon as we could. So we were poked, prodded and analyzed. First tests for Mr. TPottP came back with motility problems, all my hormones were good.

Our Dr. recommended IUI (interuterine insemination). The first cycle was a brillant success, but as fast as we became pregnant (just to be sure I took 5 tests), the first signs of miscarriage came (did you know some studies show up to 50% of pregnancies end in miscarriage?). The Dr. told us not to take a break, that studies showed the best time to become pregnant is the month following a miscarriage. Over the next eight months, we did five more cycles of IUI. At our fertility clinic, 96% of IUI patients conceive and carry to full term by the 6th cycle.

Still, the feeling of urgency remained. Despite our best efforts and a full year later, we did not have a baby. We had considered adoption and discussed our feelings about it throughout all of these experiences. Suddenly, we felt like it was exactly what we needed to do. Once again, we felt like we could not waste a moment. We searched agencies, asking questions, and finally felt very strongly that we had found the right place for us.

The next month was a blur of home visits and paperwork and after being approved by our agency for only a month, we had a beautiful baby placed in our arms by a loving birthmother.

No wonder we had felt such urgency, if we hadn't hurried through cycles, tests and paperwork, we would have missed our daughter.

Fast Forward to now.

Now, tides have changed and we feel the need to go into a totally different direction. Instead of feeling like it's right to adopt again, we feel like we need to try IVF.

I must make it clear that we did not adopt before going through all the needed grief and sorrow of "losing" our biological children. We grieved, we wept and we felt the peace of the spirit tell us this was the plan for us.

However, I grieve still for the loss of being pregnant. It is something that I have always imagined in my life and Mr. TPott feels similarly. As we watch our siblings hold their pregnant bellies, or for their husbands to look at them with that tender look we feel sadness not knowing what birth is like, or feeling a child inside you, or be a part of the miracle of birth, co-create with God...etc.

So we've decided. If we didn't ever try IVF, would we always wonder if it would work? Yes.

For us, IVF isn't about trying for that baby who will look like us.
We don't care.
We've moved on.
We've let it go.
Who knows, maybe our biological kids will be hideous

(sorry kids, we'll think you're beautiful).

Trying IVF is about being pregnant. Or at least really feeling like we really did all we could do to make it happen.
If it works, awesome.
If it doesn't, we'll adopt again.
If it does work, we'll still adopt again.

We don't care how our children come to us, just as long as they come.

Infertility Ettiquette

2009-02-06T16:11:00.000-08:00

I recently read this article posted on RESOLVE's (National Infertility Assoc.) website and loved it! Throughout our years of trying to have biological children, ALL of these have been broken by family and friends. I'm also admitting I've broken these myself prior to my own search for children.

Even though I have a beautiful, darling, magnificent daughter (who, just the other day surprised me with the greeting "Hi, Mama, Hi"- yes I melted) I still have my days where I'm broken up about our infertility. Usually, those days are the result of things like: packing up baby clothes and realizing we may never pull them out again, realizing another month of hope has ended with nothing to hope for, or getting a phone call or comment with more advice that the caller believes will produce that elusive baby. On those days, the pain is fresh and curling up in a ball seems to be a solution for solace.

But in my efforts to be a better advocate for other like our family...I thought I'd share my favorite parts of this rockin' article. Maybe educating some will lead to one less bad day for another.

Infertility Ettiquette
by Vita Alligood

Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than five million people of childbearing age in the United States experience infertility. Yet, as a society, we are woefully uninformed about how to best provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.

Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.

The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal. As the couple moves into infertility treatments, the pain increases while the bank account depletes.

Most infertility treatments involve using hormones, which alter the user's moods. (That statement is like calling a lion a cat-my husband would tell you that the side effect is insanity!) The tests are invasive and embarrassing to both parties, and you feel like the doctor has taken over your bedroom. And for all of this discomfort, you pay a lot of money. Infertility treatments are expensive, and most insurance companies do not cover the costs. So, in addition to the pain of not conceiving a baby each month, the couple pays out anywhere from $300 to five figures, depending upon the treatment used.

Don't Tell Them to Relax
Everyone knows someone who had trouble conceiving but then finally became pregnant once she "relaxed." Couples who are able to conceive after a few months of "relaxing" are not infertile. By definition, a couple is not diagnosed as "infertile" until they have tried unsuccessfully to become pregnant for a full year. In fact, most infertility specialists will not treat a couple for infertility until they have tried to become pregnant for a year. This year weeds out the people who aren't infertile but just need to "relax."

Infertility is a diagnosable medical problem that must be treated by a doctor, and even with treatment, many couples will NEVER successfully conceive a child. Relaxation itself does not cure medical infertility.

(I can speak from experience, this continues to be the hardest "advice" to hear. Partially because it's just so ignorant (okay stupid)...Why do people assume that not having a baby is due to your stress that they just compound upon by telling you to relax! That is in no way helpful. And we've heard it...from about a zillion people. Luckily, early on our doctors told us no amount of relaxing produces fertility).

Don't Minimize the Problem
Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy.

Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. You wouldn't tell somebody whose parent just died to be thankful that he no longer has to buy Father's Day or Mother's Day cards. Losing that one obligation doesn't even begin to compensate for the incredible loss of losing a parent. In the same vein, being able to sleep late or travel does not provide comfort to somebody who desperately wants a child.

Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen
Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone?And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.

Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents
One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature.

Don't Ask Why They Aren't Trying IVF
In vitro fertilization (IVF) is a method in which the woman harvests multiple eggs, which are then combined with the man's sperm in a petri dish. This is the method that can produce multiple births. People frequently ask, "Why don't you just try IVF?" in the same casual tone they would use to ask, "Why don't you try shopping at another store?"

There are many reasons why they may not be trying IVF: IVF is too expensive with low odds, physically taxing & full of ethical dilemmas.If they do IVF: A couple who chooses the IVF route has a hard, expensive road ahead, and they need your support more than ever. The hormones are no cakewalk, and the financial cost is enormous. Your friend would not be going this route if there were an easier way, and the fact that she is willing to endure so much is further proof of how much she truly wants to parent a child.

Don't Play Doctor
Once your infertile friends are under a doctor's care, the doctor will run them through numerous tests to determine why they aren't able to conceive. There a numerous reasons that a couple may not be able to conceive. Infertility is a complicated problem to diagnose, and reading an article or book on infertility will not make you an "expert" on the subject. Let your friends work with their doctor to diagnose and treat the problem. Your friends probably already know more about the causes and solutions of infertility than you will ever know.

You may feel like you are being helpful by reading up on infertility, and there is nothing wrong with learning more about the subject. The problem comes when you try to "play doctor" with your friends. They already have a doctor with years of experience in diagnosing and treating the problem. They need to work with and trust their doctor to treat the problem. You only complicate the issue when you throw out other ideas that you have read about. The doctor knows more about the causes and solutions; let your friends work with their doctor to solve the problem.

(We still get comments like this all the time, even from complete strangers. With the addition of McKinlee (who is obviously not our biological child) random people in restaurants will give us unsolicited advice about conceiving. It's an embarrassing and aggravating thing to have people giving "advice" about the intimacy in a marriage).

Don't Complain About Your Pregnancy
This message is for pregnant women-Just being around you is painful for your infertile friends. Seeing your belly grow is a constant reminder of what your infertile friend cannot have. Unless an infertile women plans to spend her life in a cave, she has to find a way to interact with pregnant women. However, there are things you can do as her friend to make it easier.

The number one rule is DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY. I understand from my friends that, when you are pregnant, your hormones are going crazy and you experience a lot of discomfort, such as queasiness, stretch marks, and fatigue. You have every right to vent about the discomforts to any one else in your life, but don't put your infertile friend in the position of comforting you.

Your infertile friend would give anything to experience the discomforts you are enduring because those discomforts come from a baby growing inside of you. When I heard a pregnant woman complain about morning sickness, I would think, "I'd gladly throw up for nine straight months if it meant I could have a baby." When a pregnant woman would complain about her weight gain, I would think, "I would cut off my arm if I could be in your shoes." I managed to go to baby showers and hospitals to welcome my friends' new babies, but it was hard. Without exception, it was hard.

Stay sensitive to your infertile friend's emotions, and give her the leeway that she needs to be happy for you while she cries for herself. If she can't bring herself to hold your new baby, give her time. She isn't rejecting you or your new baby; she is just trying to work her way through her pain to show sincere joy for you. The fact that she is willing to endure such pain in order to celebrate your new baby with you speaks volumes about how much your friendship means to her.

(I still avoid baby showers, they are painful reminders of what might never be again. And if someone complains about pregnancy, I usually find an excuse to walk away...)

Don't Treat Them Like They Are Ignorant
For some reason, some people seem to think that infertility causes a person to become unrealistic about the responsibilities of parenthood. I don't follow the logic, but several people told me that I wouldn't ache for a baby so much if I appreciated how much responsibility was involved in parenting.

So, what can you say to your infertile friends? Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load.
Here are a few ideas.

Let Them Know That You Care
Remember Them on Mother's Day
Support Their Decision to Stop Treatments