My Futile Attempt

It always seems like a good idea. This cookie recipe is wonderful. And their so cute... nice to give away to people. I made them last year for my son's pre-school class for his birthday. They were a big hit, so I thought I'd do them for Halloween.

They're relatively easy to make. But it gets to be a pain in the arse about half-way through. Just a lot of steps, and a big mess. Nonetheless, I do enjoy it.

My husband sampled one last night before they were decorated, and said they were delicious. I finished decorating them this morning. I was feeling pretty good about them. I proudly showed them to my son, and said, "Do you think your friends will like them?"

To that he replied, "They look great, mommy! They're gonna love their apple cookies!"

Blood... blood everywhere!

That's what I woke up to this morning.

My son, M.J., has had a viral thingy for the past couple of days. Fever around 101, stuffy nose, sore throat. General uckiness. He knocked on our bedroom door around midnight last night and said, "I'm sick, and I need to snuggle." He's got us wrapped around his little finger.

So he hopped in. DH hopped out. He can't sleep with all 3 of us in bed, so he uses the sleeper sofa for occasions like this. Fortunately, they don't happen very often. We've been very lucky with M.J. He's rarely sick, and a very good sleeper (just like his momma!).

Now, if you knew my son, you'd know he's a lot like his father. And if you new his father, you'd know he's a big, tough guy on the outside, but rather wimpy on the inside.

My son cannot stand the site of his own boogers. If one happens to escape, say, onto his hand, he is mortified. He hates to blow his nose, for fear of having to look at the boogers. Strange, I know. The upside of this is that I have never seen him pick his nose, something a mom can feel proud of.

Anyway, imagine his fear when, around 4 am this morning, he thinks that boogers are gushing out of his nose.

Imagine his mommy's fear when she turned on the light and saw blood all over his face, pajamas, and pillow.

I consider myself a pretty calm person. I'm a nurse after all. I have to be calm. I've been in "codes" and have helped to try to resuscitate people near death.

But I nearly shit my pants when I saw all of this blood coming from my child.

As it turns out, it was M.J.'s first bloody nose. Turns out he's not fond of blood coming from his nose, either.

Halloween came a little early to our household.

I think I have issues...

I'm so embarrassed.

I went to a birthday party yesterday, and ended up crying. Crying about my infertility and my miscarriages. At a birthday party. Pathetic.

It wasn't my fault. One of the guests, whose kind of an acquaintance/borderline friend-of-a-friend, started the whole "I'm so sorry..." and then when my eyes started welling-up the "Oh shit... I'm soo sorry" look.

Thank God I managed to avoid completely going into ugly cry mode, but it was a close one. She seemed sincere, and genuinely interested in hearing what I had to say. She didn't awkwardly run away. She sat, and listened. She asked a few questions, like "Why does this keep happenening?" and "What options do you have now?" It was nice. Kind of an impromptu therapy session. Which would have been fine, had it not occurred at a 1 year old's birthday party.

I also received an e-mail with a picture of my new niece today. The niece that was born 5 days after I lost this baby. The niece that was born 3 weeks early, as if just to spite me. So, she's going on almost 6 weeks old, and no one had felt comfortable enough to e-mail me a picture? Do I come across that fragile? Now, granted, I had not requested a picture. Partially because I am jealous/envious/bitter/angry/etc., and I just couldn't. I couldn't look. I couldn't look at what I don't have.

So yes, I have issues. I know I have issues. I think I'll continue to have issues. Quite frankly, it's not my fault I have issues.

I am going to visit my sister and the new baby in a few weeks. I think I'll be OK. As in, you won't see me on the evening news in hand-cuffs with the headline, "Psycho sister attempts to kidnap sister's baby." How refreshing! I think I'll do OK holding the baby, and loving my niece. God, I hate how loss/infertility effects how I love my niece... yet another way it's robbed a part of my life.

Musings on AF

AF reared her ugly head this past Wednesday. First time since the miscarriage. 6 weeks to the day since the D&C... with all 3 miscarriages, AF has always showed 6 weeks to the day. Faithful old friend.

With AF came yet another not-so-subtle reminder that I'm not pregnant, I will not be having a baby in March, and that there is seemingly no baby in sight.

So, now that I've officially had "one full cycle," it's rekindled emotions of trying again. I've been avoiding my RE. I have no desire to meet with him and rehash everything that has happened. I have no desire to call the receptionist and explain why I need an appointment. I have no desire to see the befuddled looked of the office staff when they see my face in the waiting room. I have no desire.

I'm so discouraged about the process of adoption. I'm inpatient. I want to submit paperwork and have a baby/child in a couple of months, not a 9 months-2+ years later. Haven't we waited long enough? I'm also broke, so that adds to the problem.

I suppose an appointment with the RE wouldn't hurt. I could hear what our options are. But, do I really feel like paying our co-pay to hear what I already know? I should just get it over with.

I feel like I'm on the teeter-totter from hell. Adoption-treatments-adoption-treatments... it doesn't seem to stop in my mind.

Today is CD 4. Do I really need to keep track anymore? Ugh.

In other random news, I dyed my hair yesterday! 4 inch roots gone! I had planned to get my hair touched up back in July (it was long past due even then), and then got my BFP, and of course, wouldn't dare let hair dye near me. Then I was pregnant for 12 weeks. Now I been un-pregnant for 6 weeks. So, it was time. I dyed it all brown, a shade or two darker than my natural color. Darker... hmmm... subconscious irony, perhaps? Perhaps.

Amazing Grace

Had to work today. I must say, I'm so fortunate to have a job that's so interesting. As a Hospice nurse, the work is often very intense. I learn a lot. Not just about medicine, or how a disease process makes people's bodies ultimately shut down, fail, and die. I learn a lot about human will and human spirit. My work often strengthens my faith in God, even during times where I'm amidst a really shitty situation. You know, the times when something awful is happening to someone with such a beautiful spirit, or to a family who is so loving, so wonderful, and doesn't deserve to watch their loved one die.

I had an instance like that today. I should be charting about this instance as I type, but have decided to reflect on it now (or procrastinate, however you want to look at it!).

Mr. C. is (or was... I'm not sure where he is at the moment... this life or the next...) 88 years old. He has/had 3 adult children, several grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He is/was a Reverend. By all accounts, it looks as if he's lived a full, productive, good life. The poor man has/had a rough year... been in and out of the hospital for months now, for various reasons. When I met him, he was basically unresponsive, on a ventilator, and his body is failing. His doctor recommended Hospice. That's where I come in.

I spoke with the family that Hospice is allowing the body to go through the dying process, without any intervention, except those that are meant to keep him comfortable. I explain that it is a natural part of the dying process for people to lose there ability to swallow, and therefore, they are unable to eat or drink. A lot of people actually die of dehydration. This is natural... the body releases endorphins as this is occurring, allowing for natural pain relief. Of course, we top this off with a touch of Morphine, just to be on the safe side.

The patient's son, who is also a Reverend, kept stating that he believed that God would answer the family's prayers by delivering them a miracle... that Mr. C. would wake up and eat, drink, converse, etc. The rest of the family was clinging to his words, agreeing that God could give them this miracle.

I believe in miracle's. I do. But, in all my years as a Hospice nurse, guess how many "Lazarus miracles" I've seen. I'm talking about the patient is clearly dying, and suddenly the dying process stops, and the person is cured.

That would be Zero.

I mean no disrespect. I know that God has the power and certainly could intervene in this manner if He wanted too. I have witnessed "small" miracles before... once I had a patient that had been in a coma for a week, and he woke up to say last good-byes, even give last kisses... that's what I would consider a "small miracle." Sweet miracles, but not grandiose.

Mr. C.'s son kept going on, about this miracle that he was expecting. I had to say something.

With the utmost respect, I asked if he wanted God's will for his father's life. He responded, "Yes, of course." I asked, "What if God's answer to your request is 'No', and that it is time for your father to come home to Him."

He seemed to get it. I encouraged the family to cling to the "small miracles"... the hand squeezing, the stares into each other's eyes, the love in the room.

With this, the whole family started to sing "Amazing Grace." One of the most beautiful moments I have ever witnessed.

The patients Oxygen level started to drop, indicating that his body was further failing. That's why I don't know if he's still here or now in Heaven.

It does make wonder... why it's relatively easy for me accept "God's will" for strangers? Was it God's will for 3 of my babies to die? Is it God's will for us to have infertility? Is it God's will for us to adopt?

I don't have answers to all these questions. I do know that today was the first time in a long time I felt God's peace. And at peace with God.

"God's will" is somewhat subjective, don't you think? Even still, more calm tonight.

Thanks Mr. C., wherever you are.

Seriously?

I've been requesting a few International Adoption packets. I've gotten a few in the mail. Most come in nice folders, some are even cute. The packets are too big to fit in our mail box, so the mail lady has to put them on the front porch. Today, I happen to be outside when the mail lady came. I saw that she had a packet in her hand... I felt like it was Christmas morning! This is the packet I had been waiting for... the agency is here in Michigan and is accredited for Russian adoptions. So much excitement running through me. Until...

... I opened the "International Fee Schedule." Holy Moses! I was under the impression that a Russian adoption would be around $30K.

I guess I was sorta right, but try $37,690-$45,130. Gee honey, sorry, I was off by 7-15 grand.

Seriously, $45,000!?! Did I mention this DID NOT include home study and post placement costs? Yeah, it doesn't.

How can an average person afford this? I mean, come on! I just want another child. This was just, yet again, another kick in the groin. Ouch.

On another note, my online store is coming along. Check it out if you wish http://www.mybabybabushka.com/. Still a lot more work ahead.

The site was named after my son... when he was a baby and all bundled up he looked like a little babushka (which in case you're wondering, is a little old Russian grandmotherly type).

At this rate, I only need to sell 2,466-3,000 blankies to pay for our adoption expenses! Better get sewing!

Seriously.

Precious One's

Tonight I think of you. I remember you. I know we will all be together someday.

I know you all are getting so much love in Heaven... that gives me so much peace.

Sweet Dreams, little one's.

Love Always,
Mommy

I ate a whole Kringle by myself...

In case you happened upon this blog, and you don't know what a Kringle is, please see picture on the left.

I am a transplant here in Michigan... grew up in Illinois near the Wisconsin border... not too far from Racine (see picture on your left). My family would get a Kringle every weekend, from a bakery in Racine, WI.

Fast-forward a few years to my new husband dragging me kicking and screaming to Michigan. A minor culture shock, not to mention that I know no one except my husband. Oh, and did I mention, not a Kringle insight? WTH?

A few months ago, I was browsing the bakery section at my local Kr*ger (shocking), and there it was in all it's glory... KRINGLE!!!!! I was elated! So, needless to say, I pick one up quite frequently... I usually buy 2 and put one in the freezer. I mean, come on, what if they decide not to sell them anymore? A girl has to have her Kringle.

So, I had one in my freezer. I was trying to have a civilized, productive, meaningful conversation re: international adoption w/ my husband. Only, it wasn't going like I had planned. I guess I planned an emotionally charged conversation, where we decided to jump feet first into this thing, hand in hand. It's not that it was awful, he just seems so reserved. Now, I know I'm all emotional. I just want something to be excited about. I just want to make a decision one way or another.

So I ate an entire Kringle. By myself.

I'm not proud of myself. You can pound one of those back pretty easily. I didn't feel good about it after the fact. Whoa is me.

My husband then went out of town for business, and ended up meeting up with his brother and his brother's friend.

Turns out this friend adopted 2 little girls from Russia a few years ago. This is good news because A) It's nice to know someone personally who has gone through the process and B) My husband must be talking about the subject for this to just be "randomly" brought up. He also has agreed to attend an informational meeting next month.

I felt better. Baby steps, right? I guess the eating the whole Kringle incident was in angst. Oh, well.

I'll lay off the purchasing of Kringle's for me anytime in the near future!

Angry?

I was cleaning my sty of a kitchen. I accidentally knocked a glass off from the counter. It broke into a thousand little pieces. My almost-five-year-old, although I still prefer to call him my four year-old, rushed into see what happened. I sternly told him to stay back, as to not step on any of the broken glass. I must have sounded angry to him, as he replied, "Mommy, why are you so angry at God?"

I'm not kidding, that's what he said.

I quickly ran to him and gave him a hug. I apologized for my tone, and explained I didn't want him to get hurt. I tried to inquire more about his statement... "Do you think I'm angry?..." "Why would I be mad at God?" I got nothing except, "Can I watch my shows now." So much for having a deep conversation with a four year old.

Alas, it did get me thinking. Am I angry with God? Perplexed by God?... yes. Confused with God?... yes. But I don't think angry. After my first miscarriage, I can say with certainty I was angry with God. But now, I think I'm over that. I don't think that God has cursed me with infertility and three miscarriages. I think that shit happens sometimes. Shit has happened to me.

As for the perplexity and confusion... I still wonder... Why would God let a 15 year old... a drug addict... an abuser (fill in the blank)... have a child? Why let the child suffer in the hands of the people? There are so many people who are begging for a child, and can't have one... So I do wonder, "Why?"

I don't know, maybe he's on to something.

More on this subject later....

Men

May I vent a little? OK, maybe more than a little.

We lost our baby 4 weeks and 2 days ago (not that I'm keeping track). Strangely, I feel back to "normal." I think I ovulated this week, and got to observe all of those wonderful signs. I wonder when AF will show. Have to schedule an appointment with my RE. Aaaah, things are back to normal. Only, I despise normal!

I've yet to schedule an appt. with my RE since the miscarriage. I'm dreading talking about it AGAIN, only to be told there were no apparent reasons as to why I lost the baby. AGAIN. This is especially the case since I don't think I want to pursue further fertility treatments. Of course, I'll probably change my mind tomorrow.

So, I've been really researching International adoption. Particularly, adoption from Russia. If I could, I think I'd leave tomorrow if our paperwork and finances were in order. Maybe I should see what my husband thinks about that. Which leads me to my problem...

Why the hell don't men talk, share, research, obsess, and focus all their energy on one thing? This has become my focus. I have to come up with a plan, crunch the numbers, research time lines, and learn a few words in Russian.

DH and I talked a little about adoption immediately after the miscarriage. We both agreed things were too raw, and that we would talk about our plans in the future.

Well, the future is now. It's here. I want to get the ball rolling.

I again broached the subject with DH tonight. My plans are to work a bunch of extra shifts over the next few months and try to pay off some bills. Work on my web-store and maybe earn a little extra money for the adoption expenses. The bulk of adoption would be paid for by the money we could pull out of our 401K. We could start the home study process in the beginning of 2008. See, I have a plan.

I decided that, perhaps, I should let DH in on my plan. We talked about it. For a little while. He just doesn't want to delve into as much as I do.

Is this one of the many differences between a man and a woman? Or is this just my DH not on the same page as I am? Will he ever be on the same page?

Anyone have any suggestions? Are there any books out there on men and adoption?

I'm not sure what to do or what to think.

No news is...

... in this case, bad news.

Just spoke with my friend. BFN. WTF?

I have nothing more to add for the moment...

Nothing Yet

I haven't heard from my friend I referred to in my last post. I called and left her a voice mail last Thursday. I'm 99.9% sure that this is the day she was going in for her beta. I'm a little concerned. She's in the 4th year of her residency program, so she's a busy girl. I'm not reading into the lack of response. Ok, I'm lying, I'm trying not read into it, but I am. Here's my analysis...

My hope is she got her BFP on Thursday. Probably didn't want to make any calls because a) It's a private moment. Not everyone knows they're pregnant the moment the embie implants. Maybe they just want a few days or a few weeks without letting everyone know the news and b) Perhaps they are waiting to make sure the beta level continues to double c) Maybe she's trying to "protect" me. She thinks that her good news might be too much for someone who just suffered a loss to handle (while this normally would be the case, an infertile hearing a BFP announcement from a fellow infertile... PRICELESS!!!)

Worse case scenario, a BFN. I don't think this is the case because a) After her failed FET cycle, she called me within hours for support b) It just had to be positive. HAD TO BE!!

Selfishly, I just want to hear some good news from the IVF front. It seems the only stories I know from people I actually know (i.e. not cyberfriends), haven't had happy endings. If we're even going to consider IVF, I need to hear a happy ending.

I just want my friend to have a baby. I will call her later today...

Waiting to make the call...

My dear friend had her embie transfer about two weeks ago.

This morning, she goes in for her beta.

If anyone in this whole big universe deserves a BFP, it's her. I know that everyone has their issues, but she's had to deal with her husband having cancer, her mother having cancer, and infertility all at the same time. This is her third IVF attempt. Her first ended up with a stillbirth at 27 weeks, her second an unsuccessful FET, and now this, her third try.

Please God, let this one work!

It has helped to have a friend going through similar circumstances over the past 3 + years. Although, I much prefer my journey... although difficult, I see it could be so much harder.

I'm struggling with the call I'll make to her later this afternoon. First of all, is it too much to call her on the day she receives her beta results? I mean, maybe I should give her some space. But I want her to know I'm there to support her whatever the results.

And, Lord forbid, if it's a BFN, what do I say? How many "I'm sorry's" does one have to hear?

If it's a BFP, I will be elated. It seems the only joy I find in pregnancy announcements are from those who have had fertility and/or loss issues. Nice.

I'm an infertile and still struggle to find the right words. Perhaps I should cut fertiles and people naive to this warped world of infertility, ART, and pregnancy loss a little break.

Stupid Idea?

I've been tossing around the idea of starting an online store.

I would make and sell baby items... ironic, huh? Mostly easy, cute stuff. I haven't figured all the details out yet, but like I said, I'm thinking about it.

I like to consider myself "crafty." I like to sew. I'm not the greatest, but baby stuff, I think I could handle. I've sewn stuff for my son... clothes, Halloween costumes, blankets, pillows. So that's the kind of thingies I'm thinking I would do.

I would put all proceeds earned towards our future fertility treatments (more than likely IVF with PGD), future adoption, or if we decide to leave well enough alone, donate the money to RESOLVE, or a children's organization of some sort, or even another deserving couple trying to make their dreams come true.

Of course, I'm not planning on making a lot of money. That would be great, but I think I'd be better off working extra shifts at work (I'm a nurse and make decent money... and they always need help). But, I figured it could be a creative outlet, a way to pass the time (especially since the weather's bound to get nasty on us soon... yuck!). And, if I happen to make a few bucks to put towards our cause, then great.

My primary marketing plan is to give my creations out as baby presents. Since everyone I know (and their mother) has either just had, or is about ready, to pop one out, I might as well profit from the fruits of their labor! So, I'm planning on throwing together nice gift baskets, and tucked inside a business card. Oh, I'm so subtle!

So I've been designing my business card. I think it turned out pretty cute. I thought about getting them professionally printed. But I don't want to pour money into this and either chicken out, or just not turn a profit. Did I mention I'm a nurse?? Not a business-minded bone in my body.

I think I'm gonna start working on the website soon. I checked, and the domain name I want is available. So, once I start, I'll post a link to it... I'm all about shameless self promotion!

What do you think, good idea, or waste of my time?

I'm not sure...

** Edited to add: OMG, I just checked out Stirrup Queens... great minds think alike! A sign perhaps?!?