Wednesday, February 18, 2015

irons in the fire

Our adoption journey continues on, despite both of us screaming that we need a break.  (Summary here: It's been a busy week at our house.  We sent S some shoes for her birthday.  I saw them and I loved them, so I knew she would LOVE them.  It took some effort to find out her shoe size and I had to really take her from the back of my mind to the forefront.  It wasn't pretty.  There was a tsunami of tears as I searched her posts and pins to find her shoe size.  I messaged her family members and friends with no response besides someone who gave me an obviously fake shoe size.  I was convinced that she had told them all not to make contact with us and that she hated us.  Then she messaged me.  That little ping was the sweetest sound!  She thanked us for the "GORGEOUS" shoes and I don't think I've ever been so glad someone liked my gift.  They were even the right size, thanks to my mom who remembered it from the night we went shopping.

S and I chatted for about an hour, both crying our eyes out.  I miss her so much!!  I love her so much!  I wish I could stop, because it hurts so badly, but I can't.  She has moved out on her own and I am that much more worried about her.  What if her feet hurt?  Who will rub them?  What if she goes into early labor?  What if she can't pick something up off the ground?  What if someone tries to hurt her or rob her?  What if she's too tired to make dinner? I wish I could stop loving her.  If I'm being honest with myself, too, I still want her to place with us more than I want anything.  I've tried so hard to let that hope go, but it's still hanging on by its fingernails in the back of my mind.  Not only for me, but mostly for the baby and for her.  I want her to live in an apartment at SUU and become best friends with her roommates and chase her dreams and catch them.  Not this.  Not becoming best friends with that little boy and sacrificing her dreams for him.  I love her too much.  I want her to be the happiest she can ever possibly be.  I want to make her happy.  I would make sure she was.

A couple in our ward is from Haiti and has a family situation they told us about.  His aunt and uncle are considering placing a baby boy and girl, twins, are 4 months old. Typically, a Haiti adoption can take a lot of time and money and can be pretty complex but they are thinking that they can pull some strings since they're family.  They are over there right now for a visit and are getting some information for us.  I've been secretly reading articles about twins on sleep schedules.  I always wanted twins when I was little.  A boy and a girl.  We'd be done, too.  Never having to go through this ever again.  Plus their Aunt and Uncle would be a big part of their lives and we could even visit Haiti.  Stop me whenever you want.

We were also contacted by a K via our Instagram challenge.  She sent us a heart-wrenching e-mail last week and I responded the next day after some thought and prayer.  She never wrote back.  I'm thinking she is probably a scammer, or changed her mind.  She was only 8 weeks along, so there was a lot of time for her to waiver.  Perhaps she'll contact us again in 7 months...

Yesterday I was contacted by a friend in the adoption community about a "Stork Drop" situation.  That's where a baby is placed last-minute and needs parents pronto.  We're still gathering information and haven't been able to reach the agency. She is four weeks old and I am dreaming of cuddling her.  I woke up holding a pillow.  We need to come up with 30,000 dollars ASAP if we want her.  (Haha!  IF!) and if we pay, she's ours.

My Dad said that he was excited that we had "several irons in the fire."  It doesn't feel like it.  They don't feel real.  Maybe I am so broken that I don't dare feel anything anymore.  And even if I do feel a little pang, I don't know what Heavenly Father wants us to do.  How do I know which baby is mine?  If any?  All of my friends say that you know because everything just comes together.  They even tease that I might end up with 5 kids under one.  How crazy would that be.  I would do it in a heartbeat.

S said that she wished she could heal me.  How can I not love her.  I want to heal her too.  All of the articles say that adoption doesn't heal infertility.  Well, I'm not technically infertile, I just can't carry a baby all I want is a baby.  That's it.  That would heal me.  Maybe this break in my heart is so deep and so jagged that it would take five babies to heal it.  I don't know.  I really think just one would do it.  Just one.  Just one.  Just...I'm using that word a lot lately.  I just want to be a mom.  I'm just trying to breathe. Can't someone just call us and say, "I have your baby."  I just want to know.  I just want this to be over.  Just.  It isn't just.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

pillow talk is back!!!!

Omg I am so excited right now!!! Spencer hasn't said funny things in his sleep for a while, but this just happened:
Sleepy Spence: Hey why are you still up?
Me: I have that stupid headache again! I can't get rid of it! It's been four days!
Sleepy Spence: I assume you've taken medicine and put the heating pad on your head?
Me: Yes. Not helping.
Sleepy Spence: Well, if it's not going away it sounds to me like a user-driven an application you've brought with you. Some guys...some point is...I don't remember. I'm half asleep so take this with a grain of salt. Some people do weird stuff when things don't work. Like, if you give a cat spaghetti it solves most problems, you know? Anyway, my theory is you should do a hot and cold treatment with cold focusing soley on your eyes. Sorry I was being weird. I kept having visions of people eating pizza giving advice, like, they all give really good advice you know? 
Me: (No reply bc I'm covering my mouth so I don't laugh hysterically.)

Tuesday, January 13, 2015


2014 was supposed to be the year.  Some of my passwords have even been "baby2014" for years now.  2014 was going to be my year.  Then my grandma died, I got shingles, I blew my face out, and then S... We made a memory jar at the beginning of the year to put good memories in and read them on NYE.  I ended up having a seizure on NYE, so we had to cancel our plans with our friends.  Spencer woke me up at 11:00 and we watched the ball drop.  I wanted to take the jar and throw it, "watching it shatter like my dreams."  (I am so dramatic.)  But Spencer insisted that we read them.  It was true that most of them had to do with S, but there were a lot of other good ones too:
  • We put our papers in
  • The Aggies (Seahawks) won the Superbowl
  • We went ice-skating
  • We got a call from our adoption case worker on Valentines Day
  • I made a walking dead cake, a top hat cake, a rose cake, a china cake, an armadillo cake, and planned my first official client birthday party in March and turned 30
  • We had our home study and my MIL couldn't open the door because of the child locks, so hilarious!!
  • We were approved!
  • We participated in an adoption carnival fundraiser
  • Spencer got an awesome promotion
2015 will have it's ups and downs, just like every other year.  I'm making a memory jar for this year too, and hoping that it will be "the year."  I'm still waiting for the motivation/guidance to apply with another agency.  I'd better do it fast, though, if it is to be "the year." ;)  

Things are still really hard.  My baby brother turned 28 on Sunday, so we went up to Logan to get him a birthday gift and have a date night.  We also wanted to get some bricks from the Toaster, the church we went to together when we were engaged.  I'm still trying to think of something cool to do with them and am welcome to suggestions!

We decided to get him some Aggie gear.  One whole wall of the store was baby stuff.  One. Whole. Wall.  I steered clear, but when there are only two walls...well.  I swallowed the lump in my throat, telling myself, "I'm not pregnant anymore," and as I said the words the panic came.  

Previously, upon experiences like this, I might tear up a little or feel the familiar pang in my heart, but now it's different.  I can almost feel my heart breaking itself.  I can barely breathe.  It feels like there is an elephant standing on my chest and if I try to take a breath my heart will finally tear itself apart, making that one last final rip. It feels like I could drown.  In words, in blood, in sweat, in tears.  

I'm trying.  I'm trying so hard.  I'm clawing my way through my days and each day I get a little further than I did the last.  Nighttime is the hardest.  It's when the elephant comes back.  I know someday the elephant will let me train him, eventually.  I know I will have my baby someday.  Maybe sooner than I realize. But until then, this elephant is a mean one.

My friend's sister recently had to deliver her stillborn baby boy and bury him.  I do not have her strength.  Give me a baby doll and stick me in a padded cell.  I can't imagine her elephant.  This business of being mothers is so difficult.  There are so many girls with so many elephants.  

Saturday, December 27, 2014

light from darkness

Just some lyrics from Mason today. They really resonated with me. Hope for the future in the first verse, bewilderment that the world is still turning in the second.  

"Somewhere in our everafter telephones still ring
Somewhere in future journals, love still means something
I have learned a mighty lesson from this change of plans
Loss is brutal, I can't stand it, I wonder how you can
And all the while there's dogs a-barking
Streets are talking out my window
Out the light and the snow is flaking, hearts are breaking
Words are making a mess out of these
Thoughts I'm thinking, boats keep sinking
It's drown or keep drinking
And if this darkness came from light
Then light can come from darkness I guess
If this darkness came from light
Then light can come from darkness I guess..." 
-Mason Jennings's Drinking as Religion

I can't wait for the day our telephone rings. 

Thursday, December 18, 2014

tender mercies

I know my Heavenly Father loves me.  Even though I am a little angry with Him.  Can I say that?  I don't know if it's even angry...perhaps just bewildered?  He still loves me, in all of my imperfectness. We had a (perhaps final) meeting with our caseworker on Tuesday.  On Monday I was so nerved up about it.  It felt so overwhelming.  Talking about starting over with another agency.  Yet another thing that is not in my plan.  We went to Walmart to do some grocery shopping.  As I was contemplating what toilet bowl cleaner to buy in place of my Scrubbing Bubbles toilet bowl scrubber refills, which they never have, (does anyone know where to get those?!) I looked over and saw our caseworker standing at the other end of the aisle.  She lives in Layton so she was a long way from home for grocery shopping, and I didn't really believe it was her.

I talked to her about my concerns and we cried together about the situation with S and about the closing of the agency.  I was able to sleep that night because of her reassurances.

We met and she gave us our file back to submit to other agencies.  It's surreal, that file.  It's not very thick, yet it contains our entire lives for the past year, and a history of our lives up to thirty years of age, an analysis of our personalities, our marriage, our home, our health.  It is weird to read.  Kind of a point of pride, kind of sad, kind of uplifting, kind of a lot of things.  I probably won't ever read it again.  :)

The day of our meeting one of my best friends came over to visit and brought me a gift from her and another friend.  I opened it up to find a glass slipper and a card that gives one of my favorite lines from a song I sing when I rock babes to sleep, and myself when I'm sad.  "No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dreams that you wish will come true."  It was such a thoughtful and perfect gift.  I will cherish it forever.

I am so blessed to have many BEST friends.  I can't choose just one.   They laugh with me, be silly with me, cry with me, talk for hours with me, advise me, reminisce with me, and love me.  Julie has been a best friend since college.  I met her my freshman year.  I was crying in my dorm room and she walked by, and upon seeing me, asked if there was anything she could do to help.  Through the years we've gone through a lot together, from baptisms to boys.  That day, as I recounted the story to her, we both started crying and she just held me in her arms and let me cry.  She cried too.  I felt her tear run down my cheek with mine.  That's love.  That, is a tender mercy.