I am sorry this is SOOOO poorly written. I just wanted to get my feelings out (which I am not good at). I feel I owe this to all the bloggers who opened up on thier blogs- it helped me so much. Here you go...
Pregnant. I knew it right away. Around Christmas. I didn't take a test till January, not even sure of the day. Then we waited, we cried and waited for another miscarriage. We were within a month again of trying to pay our initial adoption fee (for the third time-we got pregnant each time we tried). I tried to prepare myself and thought that maybe it would be easier this time because of knowing this won't work. I wondered if they would let us start the adoption process anyway or if they would make us wait till after the miscarriage. I was hoping they would just let us get started, this is the third time. It had been a year since we decided adoption was an option, a better option, an option we truly and whole-heartedly wanted. Even wanted more than giving birth ourselves. It became part of our future, not giving birth. Once our hearts were ready for adoption, pregnancy for me didn't matter. Really. I thought that in the future if it happened, then great but what would be the impact on our adopted child? It just didn't matter, I dreamed constantly of the perfect birth mother and we began praying for her. I thought of the amazing relationship we would have, a unique bond that only we could describe. The thrill of being chosen by her, preparing for the baby, or maybe it would be short notice- the thrill of running out and buying supplies and recieving a baby in just days. The adoption blogs I found gave me an incredible window into what it would be like, the good and the bad. The possible hearbreaks. These couples, along with their birth moms were so Christlike, so good, so strong that to think I could be counted among them was intimidating but amazing. I couldn't wait to get started, but money and miscarriages spanned the time out to one year. One long year of doing nothing to get us closer to our baby.
The day finally came, spotting. This was it, well atleast it was here and we could get this thing over with. I was suppossed to leave in 10 minutes to talk to the young women. Brett got a hold of someone at the church building to tell them I was sick. So I rested. I cried just a little and thought that, yes, it is easier being prepared. I already had a doctor appt. set in a couple of weeks. Perfect, I would keep it and go to make sure everything was gone, and move on. At the appointment I told the nurse I had miscarried and she said that bleeding is common and I should keep my hopes up. Right. Does this woman know how $20,000 in futile infertility treatments and two miscarriages just a couple of months ago is like? Right, thanks for that. Can I just get the ultrasound? I had the same ultrasound technition who broke the bad news to me the last two times. This poor girl, getting sucked into my endless heartbreak. I felt bad for her, having to gently break the news to me, she seemed so nice. Ultrasound showed heartbeat, 8 weeks along. All looks normal. Alright fine, I guess it hasn't happened yet. So I wait longer. Doc says chances of miscarriages go down after seeing heartbeat, yada yada yada. By the way, Doc, we saw a heartbeat with the last one. The appointment did little to ease my mind and I just prayed that if this pregnancy was going to end, that it would happen soon and at a convienent place.
The days and weeks go by and each appointment shows good news. Hard to believe. I try not to get my hopes up. So many emotions fill me; excitement for the baby, guilt for being pregnant when so many infertile couples deserve it more than us, sad to let go of the dream of adopting, fear that it might be harder to adopt in the future if we have a biological child, finances, my health, fear of complications later in the pregnancy, fear of the change this will bring to our lives. After everything we've been through it was hard to just imagine the problem gone. Infertility has been a part of our lives for a long time. I almost felt like a hypocrite in a way. To say the least, it was overwhelming. I always imagined being so happy when this day finally came and now I am shocked at the emotions I feel and find myself guarded. Don't get me wrong, underneath all these initial emotions is extreme happiness and gratitude. The last thing I would ever want to convey is being ungrateful.
People ask me how I'm feeling physically and I have a hard time even mentioning the unpleasant side effects because really, they are nothing compared to not having them. Every side effect is a sign that this is real, not imagined. Some women express how long 9 months is when you are uncomfortable and I am sure I may feel that way toward the end. But really, if they only knew how EASY this was compared to the heartbreak of infertility and complications of adoption. If they only knew how cheap preparing for baby is compared to infertility treatments and adoption. I don't blame them, the fertile people, not at all. We all have our trials, this is ours. And I would not trade it for ANYTHING. My purpose with the Lord is clear because of this. I am who I am because of this. Our marriage is what it is because of this. No, I don't regret it. Not any of it. Not the money, the hurt, nothing. Everything we did was to show the Lord we were willing. We were willing to follow His commandment to have children, in the beginning. Then we changed. We then became willing to do His WILL. Whatever that was. We knew we would be parents, we never doubted that, we just didn't know when, or how to get there, or what to do in the meantime. But we learned. His plan slowly unfolded and our acceptance of that allowed the kind of patience I never knew existed.
This isn't over yet. We still have a long road ahead of us. I'm not sure I can fully take it in until I have a healthy baby in my arms. But I do feel extremely blessed and optimistic that this just might work. Stay tuned for updates...
UPDATE: Now having weekly ultrasounds through at least week 24(I am currently 17 weeks). Had two this week because they found two sacs of fluid in the placenta. They have no idea what this is, could be nothing. I see a perinatologist on Tuesday.
Reese loves the baby toys, its cute for now but I hope she's willing to share when the baby comes.
Most cats would hate this, but Reese just loves being carried around by us! And if the carrier looks uncomfortable-its because Brett put it on wrong. I have since showed him the correct way. Its probably good he is practicing with the cat so the baby won't be dropped by our inexperience with baby carriers.
Hmmm, I think this is 25 weeks (I'll be 27 weeks tommorrow)
