Tag Archives: happiness

Our Family’s Fertility Struggles: Part Two

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Ten months ago, I opened up about the problems my husband I and were having trying to have children. I shared with you our decision to adopt after failing to conceive for a long time, on our own and then with fertility treatments. It is time for an update on our lives.

In the ten months that have passed since that original blog, we have still not gotten pregnant. If you are keeping track, that makes it thirty-one months since we began actively trying to conceive a child — over two and a half years. However, the pain of a possible future without children led us to seek other avenues for building our family, and we started our adoption process last August. It was a long, confusing, at times overwhelming, process, but I can thank God that I am now a Mama — that is, to a human baby, rather than just my cats.

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Let me begin just after the failure of our second attempt at IUI, at the next doctor’s appointment to see if I had viable follicles for a third round of treatment. Because of hormone therapy (and some resulting depression, I’d assume), I’d gained about thirty-five pounds in just over five months and was told that day that I’d gained too much weight for the IVF specialist to consider treating us. I was handling the disappointment of another failed fertility attempt poorly, a baby cried in the next room, and my doctor had just tried to console me by saying, “I’m really sad to see you back here — I just really thought it would take this time.”

In the car on the hour and fifteen minute drive home, I told Josh that I just couldn’t deal with it anymore — I couldn’t handle the pain and disappointment and cost and time of all the doctors appointments. He asked if I could be happy without kids. I told him that, while I loved our life together, I wanted a family — a child (or four) to love and snuggle, who would wake us up early on Christmas morning, and with whom we would have movie marathons in footy pajamas, carve pumpkins at Halloween after trips to the pumpkin patch, go to the zoo and circus, build snowmen, and eat dinner at six. I told him I didn’t think I could be happy without that. He said that, in that case, we wouldn’t waste any more time on “ifs” — if I have enough properly-sized follicles, if I get pregnant, if I don’t miscarry — and we’d start to focus on “whens” — when we get the paperwork done, when the social worker approves our home study, and when a child gets placed with us.

We initially decided to foster children in the hopes of being able to later adopt them. We signed up for classes two months in a row, which were cancelled due to lack of interest. Simultaneously, we started searching out information on other types of adoption programs. We were disheartened by the cost of infant adoption, but we decided not to rule it out.  Our friends, family members, and pastor all gave us advice, along with names and phone numbers to try. We attended a town meeting on fostering and adopting. We contacted several agencies — state-run and private — to seek more information. Then it was time to make a decision.

The agency we chose was All About U Adoptions, a small company based in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. They made all the paperwork, applications, and classes as organized and straightforward as possible, with a clear-cut to-do list and a timeline for getting it done determined, really, by us. Being as ambitious and strong-willed as I am, I forced my husband to complete the essays and budget and coursework as quickly as possible, despite the snails’ pace at which it seemed the state offices ran in filing and approving our fingerprints and background checks. We finished the entire process, including the home study, in approximately four months; we truly had much for which to be grateful at Thanksgiving.

After our photo book was made and copies were submitted to the agency, we were told we would have to continue to be patient, and that they were hoping to be able to match us to a birth mother within a year. We talked to other couples who had completed adoptions, and they gave us hope that eventually we would be chosen. We decided we would wait about six weeks — just until the start of the new year — and then we would look into hiring an adoption marketing company to seek out potential matches for us (which would be another added cost, but would likely result in an adoption for us much sooner than a year of waiting).

Surprisingly, at the end of December, we got the phone call we had been hoping for: there were two birth mothers who might pick us, if we agreed to show them our portfolios. We immediately said yes (of course we said yes, with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm), and we were supposed to hear back if one of them had chosen us by the next day. We didn’t hear back the next day, or the day after. We contacted our agent, who said that one of the mothers had picked a different couple and the other wanted to set up an interview on Skype.

I am not sure if I have ever been as nervous as I was the evening we were to connect with a potential birth mother. I knew that she probably had many other couples on the list, most of whom had likely been waiting much longer — months or years, even — for a match. I was afraid that we wouldn’t have THE quality — the one specific, subjective quality that differs but that all birth mothers look for in a potential family for their child — the quality that can’t be predicted by anyone else but which makes up her mind definitively one way or the other. We had heard that one birth mother chose a couple because of a tee-shirt the husband was wearing in a picture of the portfolio book. Another birth mom chose a family because they lived on a farm.

On January 3, 2017, my life changed forever when Hannibal jumped into my lap on camera during the course of conversation. Our son’s birth mother said, “You have cats. You are so happy — always smiling. I want to move forward.” So we had THE quality — our genuine happiness and love for each other won her over. So did our cat.

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We called our families and friends, and we told them that, while we had been chosen and were cautiously optimistic, the birth mom could still change her mind any time up to five days after the court hearing to terminate parental rights; this occurs some time after the baby is born. So, while our son was due in April, and we frantically made registries and painted his room and set up his crib and joyfully washed all the tiny clothes we received at our baby shower, we were under the constant fear that she would change her mind and decide to keep him or, perhaps (and I’m still not sure it would have been legally possible), pick a different family instead. I was always very careful during that three and a half months to answer everyone’s questions with a warning: “We are so excited, but, remember, she can still change her mind.” I was terrified it would happen.

Our church and our students organized and held fundraisers for us. We also received private donations. All of this helped with the financial burden. Our friends were incredibly helpful, including writing recommendations, offering advice and babysitting services, and giving us gifts and hugs. The towns in which we live and teach were completely supportive and most people seemed genuinely excited for us.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was mid-April and we got a call saying our birth mother was in labor. I’ll never forget the elation and uneasiness we felt over the course of driving those eighteen hours. We were somewhere in Missouri when we learned our baby had been flown to the Arkansas Children’s Hospital because he had to have surgery for a very serious birth defect. Once we arrived in Little Rock, at 9:15 p.m., we were turned away because we didn’t have parental rights; they wouldn’t even confirm our son was actually in the hospital. I can not explain the fury and despair we felt, knowing our son was in a crib somewhere in that hospital, he was sick, we didn’t know exactly how severely, and we weren’t even able to hold his hand. So, while our son was born on Monday evening, we didn’t actually meet him until Wednesday morning, when his birth parents arrived at the hospital and put us on the visitor list.

Our son spent a week and a half in the NICU. Over the course of that time, we were given legal guardianship. We spent each day with him; his birth mother was with him most nights. She was there out of love and worry for her baby, even though it was at great physical and financial cost to herself. She had given him up for adoption because of her circumstances, and it was clear that, while she understood the choice she had made in giving him to us, it still pained her deeply. In that short time, I grew to love her in a way that would be hard for people who don’t have adopted children to understand.

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About a month and a half after he was born, we had to fly back to Arkansas with him to finalize the adoption. The entire trip went smoothly, and we are happily home with our son who is, in the judge’s words, “Ours just as if he had been born to us.” He is calm and sweet. He is learning to smile. Life is literally better than I even imagined it would be.

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For all of you praying for a positive pregnancy test, I haven’t forgotten you. I haven’t forgotten what it feels like to cry quietly so your husband doesn’t hear you when that test comes up negative. I haven’t forgotten the jealous torment of reading someone else’s pregnancy announcement on Facebook or the energy-draining despair of smiling when others say, “You would make great parents — you should think about having kids!” or the anguish of hearing other women complaining about the stretch marks and baby weight and heartburn and late nights and check-ups and morning sickness.

And, I pray that all of you find your joy. It might occur when you get pregnant. It might not happen biologically — it certainly hasn’t happened for us in the ten years Josh and I have been married — so I encourage you to consider other options, too. It might come from rescuing a pet. It might be when your priorities shift and you decide to look into fostering a child — maybe a toddler or even a teenager. Because of the costs associated with infant adoption, we have decided that we will look more into fostering children when our son is a bit older.

As I have stated previously, there is more to being a family than having a child with your genes. My baby doesn’t have Josh’s hair or my eyes, but he has our hearts forever.

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Peace and love.

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Our Family’s Fertility Struggles

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Twenty-one months ago, my husband and I decided to add to our family. Had we been successful, our child would be one year old.

We have now been trying to conceive for almost two years. Speaking not for my husband, but only for myself, I regret the process, and am embittered by it. I have gone through invasive and tear-jerking examinations; frequent, inconvenient, expensive ultrasounds; and several unsuccessful fertility treatments. I have missed work, driven thousands of miles, and spent countless hours sitting in the doctor’s lobby beside excited, heavily pregnant women. I have had blood drawn, taken pills, and given myself shots. I have suffered unpleasant side effects from months of hormone therapy, which included extreme fatigue, nausea, headaches, and weight gain; ironically, the “next-step” doctor told me I have gained so much weight I am no longer eligible for his fertility treatments.

I have experienced physical discomfort, but, worse, emotional pain far more cutting than I ever anticipated. Baby showers and birth announcements regularly fill my mailbox and my email inbox and my social media feeds. My nephew’s wife had a child in June. My brother’s wife is due in January. Two weeks ago my local newspaper, which serves a community of approximately one thousand, featured a picture on its front page: lined up together on a couch were ten newborns that were born in seven weeks to families living in town.

On Friday, I told my husband and my doctor that I just had to take a month off. With school starting, I’m under so much stress right now that any treatments probably would be unsuccessful. Looming over my head is the constant reminder that our insurance only pays for six months’ worth of treatments and we’ve already used the first two, which were the most likely to be successful but failed.

The first time we had a procedure done, I was certain it would work. I never even entertained the possibility that it would be unsuccessful. I began planning what decorations I would buy for the nursery. Josh told me not to get my hopes up, but I had not consciously made the decision to do so — I’m an optimist, so I acted according to my nature. I was so let down by the result that my pain manifested as palpable symptoms: my chest felt heavy and tight, like I was suffocating, like my heart was breaking. My husband comforted me, held me, told me, “We’ll try again.”

When the test came up negative after the second procedure, I was inconsolable. That’s when I gave up. I gave up the hope of becoming pregnant. I gave up the image of squealing with joy at two pink lines. I gave up the idea of feeling a baby squirming around in my belly. I gave up the future of wondering if Baby would have my stubby fingers or Josh’s high intelligence.

And we turned down a new avenue. We, just today, began filling out the forms to start the adoption process. It is going to be expensive, and I don’t know exactly how we are going to pay for it, but I believe God will help us through it.

We are still embracing the excitement of finding out, someday, that we will be growing our family. We are still wondering if we will first be buying pink or blue mittens. We are still prepared to walk the floors at night with a sick child. We are still ready to cover the driveway in sidewalk chalk. We are still excited to leave cookies for Santa. We are still going to cheer the loudest at t-ball games. We are still looking forward to reading stories before bed. We are still going to cry (sob) at kindergarten graduations and high school graduations. We are still going to pull guilt trips by saying things like, “I wish you would call more” and, “I know you’re busy, so just come when you can.”

We are still praying to be parents. Our children don’t have to have my smile or Josh’s eyes. They don’t have to be ours, genetically, to be our kids. Love doesn’t have silly limits.

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Peace and love.

Why I Am Transitioning to Veganism

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I recently decided to become vegan. There were lots of reasons, a few of which I would like to elaborate upon. I don’t wish to offend anyone. I only want to explain my viewpoint.
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I went vegan because in my heart I could not reconcile slaughtering and eating a turkey with adoring and obsessively doting on my cats. How are they different from each other, except how we as a society view these animals (one being food, the other being family)? Many cultures, whether due to tradition or religion or necessity, eat different types of animals than people eating a standard American diet. Some chow down on cats or dogs or grubs or monkeys; others would never dream of eating a cow or a pig as they consider them sacred or unclean.
It hurt my conscience to know that I ate tuna fish from a can yet owned betas and guppies and other types of fish in tanks over the years. I couldn’t justify eating crab after owning and caring for hermit crabs. I’m a very principled person, and I couldn’t stand my own hypocrisy any longer. Just because I love my pets, it doesn’t mean they are in any way more valuable in the world than the cats people eat overseas. All animals are sentient beings who desire to live — they only want what I do, what my cats do, what all of us do: a long, full life, filled with days of no pain and no fear, and a peaceful end.
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I “mother” my cats, making sure they aren’t scared or hurt; why should I pay someone else to kill any other animal, who wasn’t “lucky” enough to be born a human or a purebred, papered, expensive Saint Bernard puppy? Until I became vegan a month and a half ago, I was in an ethical dilemma centering on whether or not I truly loved animals. As silly as it sounds, I cried the day I hit a pheasant while driving to work last year, yet fried chicken was one of my favorite foods for a long time. They were both birds, so I should, theoretically, feel fine about killing both or neither, right? But it wasn’t like that. I felt awful about killing one, and intentionally bought and ate the other. In my head, it made perfect sense, until one day it just didn’t.
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Plants have every vitamin and mineral necessary for a healthy life, without the health risks associated with eating meat (including obesity, Mad Cow disease, and high cholesterol, with its higher rate of heart attacks and strokes). The exception, of course, is Vitamin B-12, but most people don’t get enough of that whether they eat meat or not. Eating a plant-based vegan diet has been scientifically and anecdotally proven to have positive benefits, mentally and physically, for those who follow it.
The decision, for me, amounted to this: eat meat/dairy/eggs, with my family history of stroke, cancer, and other scary stuff, just because it tastes good, or save countless innocent lives and reduce my own health risks in the future by eating a full, well-rounded diet of plants. The choice was easy. I’m no longer emotionally conflicted. As an added bonus, I sleep better knowing I am “the change I wish to see in the world.”
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Peace and love.

Music You Aren’t Listening To But Should Be: The Dixie Chicks

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This is part of a continuing series. Here’s the first, on Billy Joel, and the second, on Matchbox 20.

Admittedly, country music is not my preferred genre. That being said, I do love a surprising number of country bands and solo artists, both old and young. One such group is the Dixie Chicks. These women are incredibly talented, beautiful, and courageous, and I couldn’t recommend that you check them out more highly.

1.”Wide Open Spaces”: Written as a tribute to growing up and going off on your own, this is one of the first songs the band released after Natalie Maines joined as lead singer. It is a song about experiencing new things, meeting new people — essentially going on an adventure and not being afraid to do so.

 

2.”Not Ready to Make Nice”: This song is one of their more recent hits, and was released after the band received media backlash when, during a concert performance in England, they infamously denounced President George W. Bush’s decision to invade Iraq. While the controversy over their comments swirled, the band wrote this song to express their own anger and sadness at how people were reacting to them. It won three Grammy awards.

 

3.”You Were Mine”: My favorite song from this band, the lyrics describe the common but heart-breaking situation of one partner falling in love with someone new and the other not wanting to let go. It has a haunting melody and genuine emotion behind the lyrics.

 

4.”Landslide”: While originally written and performed by Fleetwood Mac, this song very naturally shifts into a country vibe and fits the Dixie Chicks’ vocal and instrumental abilities perfectly. Furthermore, while this is completely unimportant and superficial, the three ladies each look absolutely stunning in this video. I’m fairly certain they are actual goddesses.

 

5.”Goodbye Earl”: In this song, the band tackles some tough topics: domestic violence and murder. Sadly, it brings to light some of the flaws of our justice system, in that while someone is in theory protected by a restraining order, it is, in actuality, often an ineffective method of defense. All that aside, this song’s set to an upbeat rhythm and makes for an ideal group karaoke tune on girls’ night.

 

It was incredibly hard for me to only choose a few of the many great options from the Dixie Chicks. I may have to do another post on this band in the future. Until then, I also suggest checking out “Without You” and “Cowboy Take Me Away.”

Peace and love.

Music You Aren’t Listening To But Should Be: Billy Joel

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I am a huge music lover. Big time. It is my passion. I play the cello. I, for a few years, played the string bass in my high school band. I was in every available choir from middle school through my final year of college. I love all genres of music, from hardcore gangsta rap to the classical Baroque pieces performed by Yo-Yo Ma.

Music is my life. That is why the realization that I haven’t written anything related to music came as such a shock to me. I was humming one of my favorite songs while playing an online game when I had an epiphany: I must share my love of music in a new series about songs people probably forgot or never knew to begin with.

So here it is — part one of my new series. I am beginning with an artist who spans decades and is beloved by people of all ages. He crosses musical genres and he appeals to all generations. He writes songs about history, culture, politics, pain, and beauty. He is the Piano Man.

1.One of my all-time favorite songs by Billy Joel is “And So It Goes.” A man recognizes that his inability to truly trust and be open with the woman he loves has led to a distance their relationship is unable to span. He begs her to stay, but knows she cannot. It is a piece about lost love and heartbreak, a lyric poem set to a beautiful, haunting melody.

 

2.Another of my favorites is “Goodnight Saigon.” It was written as an ode to those who lost their childhoods, and often their lives, in Vietnam. It is a powerful reminder of the lasting and life-altering destruction of war. Whether the war is necessary or not, its costs are astronomical. Whether the war is popular or not, its effects are detrimental.

 

3.My next recommendation from Billy Joel is “Allentown.” It’s about a dying town full of unemployed blue-collar workers. They once believed in the “American dream” but are discovering that the world sometimes lets you down, no matter how hard you work. It is a poignant statement about the dangers of outsourcing our jobs to other countries. It’s also a cautionary tale to our nation’s young people, with the moral being that life isn’t fair and you, unfortunately, don’t always get what you deserve.

 

4. Next up is “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” This song is an impressive list of the major occurrences in the world from 1949 through 1989. Each detail had a significant impact on society. Plus, the tune is fun.

 

5. And, finally, “The Piano Man.” Listen closely to the lyrics — this song describes with undeniable clarity the sadness and various disappointments people must face in life. Some rely on other folks to help with their struggles. Joel both accepts and mourns the fact that he is the one to whom people turn to get them through their pain.

 

Let me know your favorite song from one of my favorite artists. Peace and love.

Why I Feel Everyone Should Read

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I truly and wholeheartedly believe the world would be a better place if everyone considered reading as essential as other daily tasks. I realize that not everyone likes to read; some, in fact, claim to hate it and refuse to voluntarily skim through even a few books a year after they have completed high school.

The result has been, over the last few decades, a disintegration of our civilization on multiple — alarming — levels. As a society, our refusal to read has had detrimental effects: many people’s comprehension, vocabulary, communication, and logical thinking has suffered; they lack basic spelling, usage, and grammar skills; and they have trouble interacting appropriately with others because they are unable to empathize or connect emotionally. Additionally, while people turn away from books and embrace television and Netflix, for example, they are abdicating any responsibility for deep critical thinking or personal growth, as is it common knowledge that binge-watching American Dad cannot replicate the benefits of a focused long-term plot or the in-depth character study offered in books. Furthermore, by wasting time so contentedly on social media outlets like Facebook and Instagram, people are allowing others to dictate their ethics, self-worth, and interests. “Likes” are very important these days, and young people, in particular, will do or say just about anything to earn approval from strangers online.

Being an optimist, I refuse to believe this change to our culture is permanent. I know that reading offers too many benefits to allow it to “go gentle into that good night.” I will continue to promote reading and encourage my students to engage in it regularly. Below are a few reasons why.

Reading serves many purposes. Historically, story-telling was a way to preserve a culture’s beliefs and to pass on its values to younger generations. (In my opinion, it can definitely do the same today.) Problematically, modern-day reading is mainly seen as simply a leisure activity, done with the intention of providing entertainment, and therefore viewed as a “huge waste of time.” A lot of people would just rather “watch the movie.”

Many times, though, people do not realize exactly how much they can take away from reading, in general. We can study a character’s true motivations and analyze the factors that drive their behaviors. We can pick up on clues that a character may be “unreliable” (and, therefore, untrustworthy) through subtle hints and indirect characterization. We can assess the results of a character’s decisions and actions, examining how it impacts his or her life over a long span of time. We can gain insight by familiarizing ourselves with characters from all walks of life, with varying interests, abilities, and personality traits. This can train us for daily interactions with those around us and help us to better know ourselves.

For example, reading a novel which includes characters who are greedy or selfish can subtly demonstrate the danger of such behaviors in our own lives. Similarly, lovable characters can cause readers to forget their own loneliness for a short time, or lead readers to recognize desirable traits that they can adopt for themselves. Sympathetic characters can ease a reader’s feelings of self-pity by opening his or her eyes to other forms of pain and suffering in the world. Heroes fighting against villains — whether successful in their endeavors or not — can teach readers the importance of standing up for what they believe is right.

There are many genres from which to choose, so with enough searching just about everyone can find a novel that suits their interests. Some prefer true-crime documentaries while others enjoy romance novels. Mystery novels are fun because they enable people to piece together information and attempt to make accurate predictions — they keep people engaged. Science-fiction, fantasy, and mythology can expand people’s imaginations while, often, encouraging personal moral decision-making or ethical soul-searching. Nonfiction selections in the self-improvement, history, or autobiography categories are meant to provide useful information and can help people understand themselves and the  world around them more clearly. A few relate best to poetry, as they find that it succinctly expresses their own feelings in unique or unexpected ways, which can be quite comforting. Someone might prefer to read classics, from which they can deduce that, while the world itself has changed greatly over time, human nature and emotions have not.

Reading, most importantly, opens our minds. I have smiled when my favorite characters succeed. I have cried when innocent or helpless characters are killed. I have raged over the injustices characters suffer at the hands of their society. I have been uplifted when characters are able to turn their lives around and make a positive change. I have gained wisdom, courage, and strength from reading about the struggles in other people’s lives. I have educated myself on concepts, ideas, and philosophies about which I had no other way of learning. Reading lets me see the world from many perspectives and experience things I never would otherwise. It allows me to be part of other cultures and travel through time. It helps me to not only visit other worlds, but to live in this one more fully.

Peace and love.11215807_10205957227265590_2406978983197072906_n.jpg