Don't Stop Believing

Infertility was so long, so hard. It truly was just a chapter of my life, but man, in the midst of it, it seemed like the sum total of all of my days, as if it would consume everything about me. One of the brightest spots throughout the darkness were the friends I made along the way. So many are special to me. There's a whole list of friends I'd love to meet one day. The truth is that motherhood makes that kind of travel about 10,000 times harder than it once was. By the grace of God, a few of us managed to make it happen recently and it was so good for my soul!

Six weeks to write a blog post seems like a totally reasonable amount of time, right? As promised, I wanted to write a post about my trip to Indiana, (in September) if nothing else because this was a very long time coming and something I'll want to remember. Seriously, Sam started talking about going to the Georgia/Notre Dame game years ago when the announcement was made. I kind of rolled my eyes at the thought, and then he said the magic words, "you know, South Bend is pretty close to Suzanne." Oh, well, why didn't you just say that?

I tried not to get my hopes up. What are the odds we'd get tickets? But as the months ticked by and Sam became more and more motivated, I started to see this as a real possibility. Earlier this year, we were hoping to make it a long(er) weekend. You see, Suz is just an hour away from South Bend, but my sweet, sweet friend Annie lives just a few hours away from Suzanne. It seemed too good to be true. Take a few days off of work, spend some time in Indiana, travel over to Illinois, spend a few days there...magical. And then the adoption process stole all of our days off of work. Sam literally had one day to give...that's it. Sigh.

So the trip was not all that I had planned. It was the exact opposite of relaxing. Following the car-ride-that-would-not-end, I suddenly feel very different about flying. My aversion is melting away at the mere thought of another 10 hour car ride with Garrison. We were in Indianapolis for a whopping 40 hours, but...

this made it all worth it. I hadn't seen Suz since Garrison was a teensy, tiny, little nugget, which means that I had never met her THREE babies. Guys, that's a lot of change. Like a lot. And despite some serious effort on Annie's part, we'd never managed to meet up at all. Plus she now had twin toddlers that I had never met. It was an absolute joy to see these friends and to see all. the. babies. Seriously, if this weekend isn't just a might middle finger to infertility, I don't what is.

While Sam went to South Bend to see the campus and spend the day being football-y, I hung with Suz and spent the day with the wild ones. In light of our extremely tight schedule, we couldn't make it to Illinois, but Annie drove all the way over, just for the afternoon. You guys, how great is she? And Suz hosted us all like her home is a toddler daycare every day of the week (which it sort of is, but still). Wild? Yes. Exhausting? Yes. Life-giving? Absolutely. Worth 10,000 hours in the car with a cranky, screaming two year-old? Without a doubt!

Next time, the girls should absolutely plan to leave the kids with the boys and spend the afternoon getting pedicures and sharing stories. The one thing I was sad about was there was just not enough time to spend talking with my friends...but motherhood does that to you, right? And I'm pretty sure we wouldn't trade all the afternoons relaxing in the world for the lives we've created.

I'll be honest and say three years ago, I didn't know if this would happen. We were all thick, deep in the trenches. The sh@% was hitting the fan left and right for all of us. It just didn't seem likely we'd all crawl out of the pit. And yet, in the matter of 450 days exactly, we collectively went from zero to six kids between us. These ladies have stories worth making a movie about and it was such a privlege to walk through it all with them.

Infertility was a dark chapter in my life. I didn't handle it with have the grace or belief I wish I had, and yet, I'm so thankful for that season of life...for so many reasons. One of those is the ladies. I'm not sure I would have kept my head without them and it was such a joy to celebrate all that grace has given us.

The Sisterhood of Motherhood

Before Garrison came into my life, it felt like there was this members only club, one that nearly EVERYONE got to be a part of, but ironically I could not join. I felt like an outsider forever looking in, pressing my nose up to the glass on the comings and goings of the mom club. Now I'm actually a member of this sisterhood; I'm on the other side of the glass; I can see the inner workings of this group, and I can say this: moms are kind of intense.

I'm sure you've all seen that Similac commercial... the one that had moms boo-hooing for weeks and sharing is across social media. If not, you can see it here.



The commercial first went viral when I was not a mom, when I was still an outsider looking in at this Sisterhood of Motherhood. I remember thinking two things (while not crying in the least): 1- moms can't really be THAT bad because the commercial portrays them as slightly psychotic women with one track minds (i.e. I only care about breastfeeding. Or I only care about baby-wearing), and 2 - I hope it doesn't take a runaway baby stroller to make moms help one another. 

Now first of all, I have to point out that for the last three years of my life, I've lived in this kind of female utopia, at least within the blog world. I know that women are women, whether moms or not, but the infertility community has just been SO supportive of me over the last few years. I know some have experienced hurtful, spiteful comments from fellow infertiles, but I've never experienced it, and very rarely seen it with my own eyes. Rather, what I have seen is a community that is FOR each other, even when we don't necessarily agree. Not everyone agreed with my decision to do IVF, but my sisters still supported me. They loved me for me, and the means by which I tried to start a family were secondary. The same was true of adoption... adoption can be a scary, taboo type of word in the infertility community, and I doubt everyone thought it was the right choice for me to make, but I never heard a word otherwise. I was supported from beginning to end. Apparently this was paradise... in the real world, women often have fangs. 

I also have to add that I was REALLY sheltered from the mom world. Part of that was intentional on my part, as I didn't want to read mommy blogs or parenting books while I was waiting and hoping, and part of it was because I had relatively few really close friends here locally that were moms. So when I was thrown into the deep end, and earned the title of  "mom" in six seconds, I seriously had NO CLUE what was going on. CIO, Ferber, Attachment Parenting, BabyWise... It all meant NOTHING to me. Seriously. I mean I'd heard of "Ferber" sure, but it rhymed with Gerber, and no one hates that, so I had no idea that there was any more to say on the issue. My first (and still only) parenting book was loaned to me the morning I left for Florida. Erika ever so generously packed a diaper bag filled with tons of things I never would have thought to take to Florida. What she gave me was literally all I had at the time. In the bag was her favorite book that helped her with getting her daughter to sleep. I had no idea that this book aligned with a particular parenting strategy, no clue that it was in opposition to other parenting theories. I didn't choose the book because I strongly felt pro one direction or another. Rather, what I heard was my friend, who was a great mom and had already been through a similar process telling me "this book will help the baby (and me) sleep." Well sign me up! That was it... seriously. So you can imagine my dismay when the very act of reading a book stirred up other women (complete strangers) enough to comment. I didn't realize that by reading one book instead of another that I was setting up camp with one group of moms (and apparently giving the finger to others).

My first experience with this came while I was at the hotel in Jacksonville out reading by the pool. It had been a looonnngg day of Garrison hysterically crying for no discernible reason and I was desperately in need of a break. My mom offered to watch him so I could take a breather. I went and sat out by the pool with Erika's copy of The Happiest Baby on the Block, finally finding time to find out what makes a happy baby, because I was obviously FAILING. My baby was the farthest thing from happy. It wasn't ten minutes later when the comments started, "Ooo, you don't want that book; your baby will be so spoiled." And then "I did Babywise (to which I'm thinking what the junk is "babywise?" I'm trying to make him happy... I've got plenty of time to make him wise.) and my baby slept through the night at 8 weeks." It became clear with a little research later that the author of these two books The Happiest Baby on the Block and Babywise are pretty much in direct opposition to one another and that divides women into two camps. There are other books obviously; some are more similar to one, and others are more of their own thing. But all in all, the line gets drawn (on this issue) based on how you respond to and interact with your baby. Camp A FIRMLY believes that you must run (don't walk) as soon as your baby cries and soothe them back into a womb like state because your baby wasn't mean to handle the outside world yet. Your life is drastically altered and basically revolves around baby, BUT these behaviors will help your baby transition into the world and feel safe, protected, and loved. Sounds pretty great to me. Group B takes a very different stance and says that as the parent you handle the schedule and the way your baby interacts and meets the world. They say that by creating a schedule and a cycle of eat/play/sleep, you will help your baby adjust to this new world of days and nights and new stimulation. This group believes that predictability will help your baby feel secure. Also sounds pretty great. Honestly, I see good things about both groups, and don't feel strongly connected to either. But regardless, it's ridiculous to think that someone's choice in reading material lets you know what kind of parent she will be.

There have been several other instances in which I was basically attacked by complete strangers for my parenting choices. My favorite is always the formula deal. I've expressed my interest in and appreciation for breastfeeding before, so while I do understand some of the the thoughts behind these comments, it's just CRAZY that women think they have the right to comment and judge how I feed my baby. "Did you know breast is best, honey? she asks while I try to soothe a hysterical baby in the middle of the aisle in Target by shaking up a pre-measured bottle of formula. I want to say "Well, you see my breast is not best. It's empty. I adopted him. Thanks for bringing up a sore spot as I stand here in front of a wall of confusing formulas trying desperately to ascertain what the hell is different about each one and which will be best for my gassy, grumpy, sensitive little dude"... just ughhhh. I've even had women try to enlighten me about inducing lactation. Seriously? He was like ten weeks old at the time. We're not starting the absurdly hard and long process to induce lactation with NO guarantees that it'll work and NO guarantees that two plus months from now, he'll even understand the concept of breastfeeding. The idea that milk comes out of boobs would be news to him, let me tell you.

Those are instances directed at me, but I've seen so many instances were moms jumped on other moms for their parenting choices. I joined a Facebook group that I knew NOTHING about except that a local friend recommended it. When I was sent the guidelines by the group leader, I remember thinking that she was a little intense, but nothing particularly stuck out in terms of the type of group I was entering. Now when I go back and read it, it's so clear, but to novice me in the first week of parenting it just sounded like a group of moms in my city. What I didn't know is that when you move into one camp, you find friends, companionship, and help in navigating through parenthood... that's the really great part of a group like this. The less desirable thing that comes with planting your flag in one camp or another (at least in my opinion) is that you find a lot of women talking about how "the others" are misguided at best, and bad parents at worst. Really!?!?!

The group I joined believes in "gentle parenting" and apparently that means things like gentle discipline, extended breastfeeding, baby wearing, co-sleeping, and low intervention birth. The truth of the matter is that this is probably not the right group for me. I do believe in gentle discipline, but extended breastfeeding to me would mean a year and I get the feeling that's not what we're talking about here (not to mention, I'm not breastfeeding at all. See above). I do think baby wearing is nice, but use my stroller just as much. I don't want to co-sleep at all. I've never wanted to, but now that I have a squirmy, hot, grunty baby, co-sleeping sounds like hell. And low intervention births? Yeah, when I was a teenager watching a thousand episodes of A Baby Story, a warm bath, bouncy ball, soft music, and massage looked glorious, but the me who has lived through four years of infertility? Yeah, she'd be going with the absolute safest means necessary with every doctor on call or present in the room. Let's just go ahead and have an entire hospital staff on call and waiting just outside the birthing suite in a state of the art hospital with a Level Four NICU team standing by. That's how we'll roll if we ever birth a baby. So admittedly, I don't really agree with everything (or even half) or what's being said in the group, but it's been enlightening (and disheartening) to see the conversations that take place in this private group.

In one situation, a mom, who to me sounded like a first time mom, struggling with a fussy baby, and desperate for sleep, posted asking if anyone had experience with Babywise. I doubt she knew the flood gates that she would open with those few words, but she was all but crucified. It got so heated that the leader had to cut the comments off (which then pissed more people off). The behavior of grown women was so absurd all because a fellow mom asked a simple question. I felt absolutely awful for this mom. I'm sure she just didn't understand that to this group "Babywise" is the exact opposite of "gentle parenting" as many of the women in the group align the practice of cry it out with child abuse. In my opinion, that's a gross over simplification and generalization. I know a lot of moms who have used the teachings in Babywise and all of them are rock stars. Not one of them is abusive. None of them allowed their babies to become dehydrated for the sake of keeping a schedule. They all have happy, healthy children. Calling these friends abusive parents without even knowing them simply because they chose to allow their four month old baby to fuss in his crib for half an hour would be like calling baby wearing moms abusive for risking their child's muscle and bone development by wearing them too much.

Similac made a cute, satirical commercial about a real serious issue to me. Moms are drawing lines left and right and claiming with extreme passion and authority that THIS is the way to parent. The issues are wide and deep and ever so divisive. Everything from traditional weaning vs baby led weaning (or never weaning) to cloth diapering vs disposable diapering. And holy moly, don't, for the love of God, mention stay at home moms vs working moms. Just about every parenting decision appears to be reason enough to go to war if you find someone who does things differently than you. It's frustrating. As a woman, and now a mom, I want us to be better than this.

Truth be told, if I could parent any way I wanted to and everything I tired worked (ha), I'd wear my baby for ease and comfort, but I'd still have and use a stroller because OMG my back and have mercy- boob sweat. I'd breastfeed my baby for nutrition, but also for the lack of a billion bottles to clean. I'd work part time, maybe 3-4 hours a day, enough to allow me to feel productive and have adult interaction while allowing my baby to socialize, and also giving me the freedom to spend more time with my baby (and get more done at home). I'd hold and snuggle my baby for hours everyday, because the snuggly baby doesn't last nearly long enough. I'd have a loose schedule, one that allowed for variation and freedom to go and do, while still helping me predict the day and keep order. I'd have my baby sleep in his own room in his crib, as co-sleeping scares the dickens out of me, and room sharing means tons of baby junk all over my room, and crappy, disjointed sleep for me. I'd let my baby have a paci because self soothing is important to me. I'd cloth diaper because yay Mother Earth and yay my wallet, but I'd also hire someone to clean my house every few weeks because laundry is a full time job. I'm not one type of mother. I feel free to pick and choose the things that I enjoy and that help me be a better mom. 

In general, I think moms are doing the best that they can. Parenting is hard in every stage of life. I have three thoughts on why moms react and behave antagonistically towards one another. First, I think many moms are looking for validation. They want to feel good about the choices they make. When someone chooses differently than they do, they can feel defensive, but really they are just feeling unsure of themselves. I'm guilty of this one. I don't typically respond at all, but I've caught myself numerous times feeling defensive of why I've made choice X and not Y. My second hypothesis is that moms over-zealously want to share what worked for them. They want it to come across as helpful advice, but we all know that "helpful" advice, be that on parenting or infertility is rarely helpful. A good rule of thumb is if the person didn't specifically ask for advice, they are probably not seeking yours. And lastly, some moms are unfortunately just jerks. They are mean, spiteful, and use harsh words towards other moms out of a sense of power and authority. Let's be real. Moms are people first, and in every people groups, there are jerks. Moms are no exception. But in general, I think moms are trying their best; they just fail to appropriately love on one another, especially if that "other" has made different choices.

I for one am claiming now that I will not engage in the "mom wars." If you want to wear your baby twenty hours a day, cool... that's between you, your pediatrician, and your physical therapist. If you want to breastfeed in public until your kid is four, that's fine... I'll probably avoid you during snack time, but in between, we can hang out. If you want to feed your baby formula rather than breastmilk, go forth... many a baby has been fed by far weirder and worse things than a can of formula. Let's call these things what they are: parenting choices. It's not abuse. If we want to talk about abuse, all you need to do is turn on the news and you'll find plenty of real cases of child abuse to get fired up about. Let's decide to use our voices as females, mothers or not, for good. To bring awareness to things that we're passionate about, to help others in need, and to build one another up. There's enough out in the world trying to tear us down. We don't need to do that to one another. Let's agree to help a mom out before the baby stroller rolls away.

Dreams Really Do Come True

In a lot of ways, my life feels like a dream. Who is this beautiful blue-eyed boy that I get to snuggle with each day? Literally, in the blink of an eye, my life changed forever. I don't think my mind has completely caught up with my reality. My life has suddenly become a dream come true, and I constantly find myself thinking "this can't be my life." I used to think that same thing, but in terms of infertility and our journey, as in "this can't be real... crappy eggs at 25 years old?!?" Now, I think the same thing, but in amazement that my life is so freaking beautiful, it hurts my eyes. (And if that wasn't unbelievable enough, I can't believe it now takes me a week to finish a post... this tiny little thing got started on Monday, annnnd it's Friday Saturday Sunday now.)

This past weekend was a dream come true as well. My sweet, sweet friend Suzanne came to visit all the way from Indianapolis!

Suzanne and I first started emailing each other over two years ago, and well, y'all know my feelings on how amazing she is. I had already been thinking that I needed to get up the guts to fly (I'm terrified to fly) to Indianapolis after she gets home with the boys when I got a text from her about super cheap flights to Atlanta. Suzanne has flown into Atlanta multiple times but always as a connecting flight, not as a destination... you would have thought with alllll the traveling that she does, it would have happened within the last two years, but no. So we made it happen.

It was a wonderful, wonderful weekend. And one that has a surprisingly happy and optimistic feel for two girls that were in REALLY different places this time last year. While it would have been lovely to drink margaritas and talk all night about how miserable infertility is, it was particularly special to talk with my sweet friend about BABIES. And the best part is that there were no weird feelings of wanting to be happy for her while squashing down the tinges of jealousy. Life is just dang good for both of us right now, and after coming through everything that we have, it was nice to celebrate what has already come to pass and plan and hope for the days ahead.

Her trip was very brief... just one night and then back home to her husband, but it was a sweet, sweet visit. I can't wait for Suzanne's babIES to arrive so that she can fully experience the joy that is in my heart. It's really, really beautiful to cross these bridges and start our families in the same year. So thankful for the history that brought us here, but SO excited about the future for our families.

Two Truths

My first Mother's Day as a mom is in the books. I must admit, it was infinitely better than years past. I woke up to sweet smiles from my baby (after dealing with a vomtrocious dog at 5am). People were happy to hug my neck, look me in the eye, and finally whisper words they've longed to say. Yesterday was good. But the truth is, there are scars far too deep for Mother's Day to ever be this crazy joyful celebration. I know the pain too intimately to forget even if time does heal all wounds.

There seemed to be 1,000 articles and posts written about Mother's Day this year, and just about every one made me smile. I think it's good to acknowledge the pain, the hurt, the sadness of the day. It doesn't mean we stop celebrating. It means we hold two equally important truths, one in each hand as we approach Mother's Day each year. Truth one: mothers are worth celebrating. Truth two: that celebration, while good, and true, and valuable, will inevitably cause someone else pain. Either she's mourning the mother she never knew, or he's wishing for more time with his dying mother. She may be longing to have her mother back, or he may be hoping to heal an estranged relationship. She may be mourning the loss of her children, or longing to have them return home. For many the day hurts because the one they want to celebrate with isn't available. And then there's those who long to be mothers. Who approach the holiday with trepidation for the comments from others, for the bitterness and sadness that will inevitably arise. Mother's Day is good and mothers are worth celebrating, but that celebration will inevitably cause someone pain.

My first Mother's Day was good. I felt loved, celebrated, valued. But I also felt sadness. Sadness for the babies who came before, who had the opportunity to make me a mom, but in basic terms did not. Sadness for my friends who long for the touch of their mother just one more time. Sadness for Garrison's birth mother. While I'm happy to have my son, it is not lost on me that her loss is my gain. I felt sadness for friends who should be celebrating, but had lost their babies. And those who should have more little ones to celebrate with than they do. And finally, I felt sadness for my friends, my beautiful, beautiful friends who are still in the trenches of infertility or reoccurring pregnancy loss. This day can be so beautiful is you've never known loss, if you have and love your mother, if all of your children are living. But it can also be an incredibly painful day, one that only your bed, a box of chocolate, and the promise of a new day can relieve.

As I said, I read many articles as the day approached, and I think this quote from Melanie Dale at Unexpected summed it up best: "And so there’s the tension. Of wild partying in the Mommy Club and intense grieving over the ones experiencing the pain that I remember too well. And I can’t and won’t resolve the tension, but instead acknowledge them both. I will woo-hoo and weep for all the women." I felt that tension throughout the day. Even within the infertility community there is this tension. For every new woman who slips into the trenches, someone is climbing out. It is good and noble to celebrate those who finally crawl out, while recognizing the pain of those who slip in.

That's it, that's the way we approach and handle Mother's Day each year… dancing with wild abandon for those who get the honor of the title mom, because an honor it is. But in the same moment, it's bowing our heads and turning our faces to see those who are hurting. Melanie closes with this, "while woo-hooing the precious moms I adore, I intercede for the barren with prayers to a God I don’t understand. I exchange knowing gazes and nod my head with respect. The wound is healed, but the scar is gargantuan." For the mamas on the other side of infertility, can I get an "amen"? My wound is far from healed, but I can see that one day it will be… but that scar, it's never going away.

So to those for whom Mother's Day is time of celebration, I hope you felt loved and valued for the handwork that is mothering. I hope you got extra sleep, sweet cards, flowers, and sloppy kisses because you deserve it. And for those who view Mother's Day with fear and sadness, I hope your day past uneventfully, whether in bed with the covers over your head, or out in the sunshine with too many things to keep you busy. But most importantly I hope you felt seen because your pain is valid and real.

Dear Sister, You Are Not Alone

So it's the eleventh hour, but I just felt like I needed to get something together for National Infertility Awareness Week. It certainly won't be award winning, but infertility is just as significant in my life this year as last… it's time to represent.

This year's theme is fabulous… You Are Not Alone. Perfect. Because that's exactly what infertility makes you feel: alone. How do I know? Because I wrote this, and this before I ever found this community. I was 26 years old, dealing with the aftermath of my first miscarriage and a potential diagnosis of infertility and I felt SO ALONE. I distinctly remember feeling like no one in the entire world could possibly understand. I remember thinking I was likely the only twenty something dealing with this crap as everyone around me was getting pregnant WITHOUT TRYING. That season was filled with more pregnancy announcements than I'd like to count of people who "forgot to take the pill at Jill's wedding" or "just skipped the condom one time." And here I was, charting my basal body temperature every morning and pretending like I could fool my husband into thinking I suddenly wanted sex morning, noon, and night. The word alone doesn't even encompass what I was feeling.

But then something amazing began to happen. Because of this teeny, tiny little blog, with approximately three followers at the time, I began to learn that I wasn't alone. I began to discover, ever so slowly, the blogging community. On the recommendation of a friend, I discovered Erika's blog. I remember thinking that it must be impossible that another girl could have had these same thoughts… add in that she was also in her twenties and lived in Georgia, and well, I could hardly believe it. Her blog led me to other blogs, which led to other blogs. I was suddenly no longer alone. Soon I was emailing Caroline, discovering Aubrey, finding Kimberly. I went from all alone to surrounded by other girls. We all had different stories, different diagnoses, different treatment goals, but we were the same in more ways than we were different. We were the same in all the ways that mattered to my broken and beaten heart.

And the more I blogged, the more I met other women. Within just a few months, I'd found lifelong friends. Women would find something in a post worth reaching out and they'd email me. Sometimes it was just a quick correspondence, and sometimes a friendship blossomed. I just finished an email to my friend Kara who I "met" in October 2012. My precious friend Annie and I text regularly with one another. It's amazing what has blossomed from, "Hi, my name is _____, and I'm infertile too." In the midst of isolation and despair, friendship and hope blossomed as I learned that I was anything but alone.

My circumstances never really changed. If anything, they simply got worse. I went from thinking I might possibly need intrauterine insemination to achieve a pregnancy to realizing I'd likely need in vitro fertilization just to conceive. My circumstances have become more and more bleak, but my outlook has improved over the years. The reason is simple. I am not alone. I am surrounded by beautiful, strong, courageous women who I consider it an honor to walk with through this journey. Everything is better when you have a friend by your side. My fear that I was alone proved a thousand percent untrue. I have been blessed with beautiful friendships simply because at one time or another, we all thought we were alone.

So I guess that's my hope. If you find yourself dealing with a miscarriage you never saw coming, or you're thinking about getting blood work to see if there's an answer to why you haven't gotten pregnant, or if you've been suffering in silence for years, quietly hiding your trips to the doctor as you pursue treatment for infertility, know that you, dear sister, are absolutely not alone. Far from it.

Wonderful Weekends

SOOO! The last couple of weekends have been amazing! Now some may say that I'm currently living one giant weekend as I'm not going into work. They would be WRONG! Can I get an "Amen" from the stay at home moms? Totally a difference. But the last two weekends were definitely what weekends were made for. 

Last Friday was our 5th anniversary. Obviously we couldn't do much, but I'm pleased to say that we did celebrate. We're five for five on our commitment to celebrate our anniversary each year. This year we decided that each of us could use some time to relax, so Sam went to play a round of golf and I got a massage and a facial. Golf is Sam's happy place... He LOVES it, but it's like the most expensive hobby ever, so he rarely gets to play. I LOVE massages, but that's definitely a luxury thing for me... my last one was for our second anniversary, three years ago. While we were out for the day, Sam's mom kept Little Man for us. That afternoon we picked him up and went over to my mom's. She kindly offered to watch him for the night, so we went out to dinner at Bonefish and then spent the night at Chateau Elan. Chateau Elan is literally across the street from my mom's subdivision, so we were approximately three minutes away. It was nice to be close enough that I could relax, but separate enough that we could enjoy each other and celebrate five years together. It wasn't the most glamorous anniversary, but I'm really proud that we found a way to keep our promise for another year. I don't have any photos though, so you'll have to just trust me that it happened. 

On Saturday, the day after our anniversary my mom hosted a baby shower for us. It was really wonderful! She worked really hard on decorations, and the house was BEAUTIFUL! It was a really special day for our family and family friends to come meet Garrison and shower our family with love. 

Mom thoroughly enjoyed making a gazillion tissue paper flowers

The beautiful spread

Our one any only interest flop… Mom's goal were those tulle balloons you see
everywhere. FYI… they don't float. Like at all. So some gold spray paint to the rescue.

Sam had present duty for approximately one gift before he vacated the seat of honor

Happy little Greavu family

Mom was really wise (and awesome) and used items that I wanted
for his nursery for the shower decorations. This little
elephant will now take up residence in the nursery.

Sunday was Easter and Garrison's first time at church. We decided to take him to Waumba Land (preschool) as a packed auditorium and a screaming baby sounds awful. 

When you can't hunt Easter eggs, Easter is kind of a snooze.

He got the royal treatment complete with VIP stickers, an "Athens, I love You" onesie, and a sticker to celebrate his first time in Waumba Land. 

I wanted one of him awake, but first days at church are exhausting.

I think I was a good bit more excited about his first day in Waumba, as he pretty much snoozed. For me, this was a very long awaited day. I've served in the preschool ministry since August of 2012. I've watched hundreds of pregnant bellies and baby carriers walk past my door every Sunday for years. But even more, every Sunday for years, I've checked myself in only to have the parent pickup sticker print. Sunday after Sunday, I've simply thrown that part away, but no longer. 

I'll be needing that parent pickup sticker now!

It was a really incredible weekend. One filled with long awaited dreams come true, redemption, and lots of celebrations! It was also pretty crazy to think that this time next year we'll have a one year old to celebrate Easter with. Still surreal to think that this is my life. 

Yesterday my sweet friends here in Athens through me a second baby shower. These ladies have been some of my biggest supporters and cheerleaders over the last few years. In a lot of ways, Garrison is the fruits of their labor as they have spent countless hours in prayer for our family. It was so special to get to celebrate with them and introduce him to the answer to their prayers.

Beautiful (and delicious) cupcakes by my friend, Laura.
Notice that she wrote a bazillion nicknames for Garrison.

The beautiful spread of food. My friend, Danielle, has
THE BEST house. Seriously. Add that she and her husband are
great cooks, and well, they could sell tickets to be friends with them.

Some of the beautiful decorations that the girls came up with…
don't be jealous, my friend Kristin is a ridiculously
popular interior designer.

The remaining Athenian members of my original small group…
love these girls to pieces!

Current small group (minus one). So thankful for each of these ladies!

These weekends have been so special! I wasn't sure if I'd ever get to have a baby shower… kind of a always the bridesmaid, never the bride, type of deal. But now I've had TWO and they were both so special! And while it makes for a rough first few weeks, it's pretty awesome to have your baby with you at the baby shower. We're so, so thankful for the outpouring of love and gifts we've received since bringing Garrison home. He's going to be one well dressed  and well read little dude. 

Fear and Guilt

Well first of all I feel like I've got to get a few things out of the way. First, thank you all for the love and support as we welcome home our son in the most unexpected way. It's been two full weeks since we met, and everyday just gets better. I know for many of you reading this your heart still hurts. Your arms ache for a son or daughter of your own. Believe me friends, I still remember, so thank you for your love, encouraging words, and sweet gifts in a time where you yourself are not rejoicing. We continue to feel so loved. Secondly, as the last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, I'm sure some of you are confused... Since when does Amanda have a son? Don't worry, I think those same things everyday. You can get caught up on the story here and here.

You guys, mom guilt is real. I hadn't even met my son when I first felt guilty. The Friday night that we told the agency we were coming down for him, was a restless night. Sam was out of town trying to be responsible and focus on the continuing education course that his employer had already purchased. Anytime Sam's gone, my sleep suffers, but this night I had quite a bit to think about. I finally went to sleep only to wake up feeling miserably guilty and devastated that my son wouldn't be breastfed. This is in no way a statement for or against breastfeeding. I actually didn't realize I felt so strongly about breastfeeding until that moment. I had done a lot of research and intended to induce lactation if I had four or more weeks notice, but I knew (or at least I thought I knew) that sometimes breastfeeding is just not an option in adoption. And truthfully, a large part of my desire to breastfeed was for bonding and attachment. But that night I woke up and just felt so insanely guilty that I couldn't breastfeed this precious little boy. 

I still feel guilty about it. Just about every healthcare professional has recommended breastmilk for my little guy for one reason or another. Thankfully my cousin had a baby just a few days after he was born and she has donated some, but I still feel guilty that I, his mom, has to rely on someone else to provide for him. Honestly, it's probably a pride thing more than anything else. I've slowly come to see that this is just one of 10,000 things that I will probably feel guilty for over the next 20 or so years. 

Another thing that I'm coming to terms with is that motherhood is full of fears, or at least my experience is. There's obviously the very real possibility that the birth father could still come forward, and if I think on it too long, that fear is crippling. In true ignorance is bliss fashion, I generally don't think about it. But there are plenty of other fears that I do think about. I think most new moms worry if their babies are breathing. I'm no different. In fact, coming out of the NICU may be worse. In the NICU I had a monitor to tell me his heart rate, breathing rate, and oxygen levels. I literally sat for hours watching the green, yellow, and blue lines. Some times those lines were really scary. Alarms would go off. Nurses would come check on him. Now we're off the monitors and there's nothing to tell me if his heart rate is too high, or, more likely, if his oxygen levels are dangerously low. 

In addition to normal new mom fears like "is he breathing," "is he eating enough," or "is he in pain," I keep having reoccurring nightmares where he dies in some awful way. When we were in the hotel, I dreamed the hotel caught on fire and we were trapped inside. The firemen couldn't get to our window so they screamed that I should toss him. You can imagine what happened, I'm sure. I also regularly have images flash through my head of tripping, dropping him, falling on him, etc. I've watched his little head bust open on the concrete in my mind so many times.

In the midst of my self doubt, guilt, and fears, I'm learning a lot, not the least of which is one handed typing. I'm also learning to love and trust in whole new ways. A sweet friend shared this with me, and I'm finding it to be a great reminder every day. She said, "God loves and cares for him even more than you and Sam do and will take care of him." Thankful that that is true. The Lord promises that he knew my little guy long before I even knew he existed, and He has loved him well.

That's all that I can type with two fingers today, except that I'll add this: my dear, sweet friend A found out last Thursday that her fifth transfer failed. She is now out of frozen embryos, which is completely heartbreaking! She is also preparing to switch clinics which is incredibly overwhelming! Do me a favor and stop by her blog and give her some love and support. She's a one in a million and I'm rooting for her until she brings her baby home!

The Good and The Bad

Many of you follow me on Facebook (I'm not too hard to find with a name like Greavu) but I wanted to update here for those of you who haven't heard the news, but also because this deserves more explanation than just a few words. I'll cut to the chase so you're not skipping ahead... we were not chosen.

Before I get into the bad news, I do have some good news to share. Actually not just good news, but great, incredible, awe-inspiring news. If you look at the YouCaring widget to the right, you'll notice that we have reached out fundraising goal... we've actually far surpassed my wildest dreams! I'm not at liberty to disclose many of the details, but basically an incredible woman who recently went through the adoption process with her son wrote us a VERY large check last week. She said that after holding her grandson, she couldn't imagine anyone not getting to fulfill that dream and she just wanted to help make it possible. It is still so surprising, that I have to check the savings account just to make sure that it's real. 

In light of the potential match, you can imagine that Sam and I were feeling the pressure last week (before the check arrived). If matched, we would have had to send $16,000 immediately, completely wiping out our adoption account. Then we would have had just a few weeks to come up with another $15,000 or so. And no, this was not an "expensive" case, it was actually a little under our max. There's just a LOT of money left to be spent. So we began to feverishly apply for no interest adoption grants. The reality of the situation was beginning to set in. As usual, money talks add stress out the wazoo in our family, so rather than fight about something that was neither of our faults, I suggested we table that discussion for the next evening. I went to bed very discouraged. I knew that we would absolutely move forward with the case... it was that perfect, but I was terrified of $15,000-20,000 in debt, particularly of the credit card variety

I kid you not, the very next day, we received the check. This entire process has been the most humbling experience of my life. I would have said I couldn't be humbled more than infertility already had, I mean the inability to reproduce without an entire team of people present is pretty darn humbling, but the fundraising process has absolutely been even more so. Friends who are saving for homes have given HUGE amounts... more than I've ever given to one person for sure. Friends struggling with infertility gave even though they were dealing with the expense of infertility treatments themselves. Complete strangers who simply read the blog and wanted to be a part gave. It's just been the wildest journey. 

When we started the adoption process last September, our plan was to keep the adoption under $35,000 for everything, legal fees, travel, home study, birth mother expenses... the whole deal. We've watched a ton of cases go because of our budget. I don't necessarily feel bad about that, as I want to work with ethical agencies who aren't exploiting adoption, but I admit it has been hard. With that number in mind, we set out to raise a minimum of $25,000 as we felt comfortable with $10,000 for ourselves. Our dream goal, like the "this will never happen" goal was to raise $30,000. Friends we're there... the dream goal. It's so unbelievable!!!

I've already had a few people ask if they could still donate, as they wanted a puzzle piece. Sam and I have decided that we will leave the YouCaring site open until the March 15th deadline. If you want a puzzle piece, you can still donate and be a part of the puzzle fundraiser. "Do we need any more money?" is the question I'm sure everyone is asking. Well, if the situation from last week had worked out, we estimate that we would have needed $2,000-$2,500 more than we have at this moment. So yes, there are most likely additional expenses as that situation was already a little under our budget, but it's also nothing we can't handle. We're in a far better place than we ever imagined we'd be, and we're just so, so thankful. 

Okay, so on to the crappy part. I left you last week following out interview with the birth mom. It went as well as could be expected for something so stressful. We spoke with one of the agency representatives following the phone call. Her info was rather sobering as she said that she and the other rep were split in their opinions of who she'd chose... we certainly didn't hit it out of the park. The next few days were hard. One second I'd dream of bringing home this baby boy, and the next moment I'd allow the "she didn't pick you" phone call to roll through my imagination. I had dreams where we were picked, so real that I woke up believing it for a good ten minutes. I also had hours of restless sleep where I replayed parts of our conversation, wishing I could have explained more, connected more. 

I think ANY scenario where you're one of two, would be hard... to be so close. But this one just felt so, so perfect to me. 

He was due April 6th, 3 days after our fifth anniversary. Talk about an anniversary gift and a reason to celebrate.  

The expectant mom was in Florida, so our travel expenses would be lower. It would also allow for friends and family to come visit while I waited out ICPC. Sam will not be able to stay with me for the 2ish weeks while I await permission to return to Georgia. While I would go to the end of the earth for our child, it would be nice not to have to spend the first few weeks as a mom alone in a hotel.  

The city was Jacksonville... I obviously have a lot of mixed feelings about that city, but ultimately that's where my embryos currently reside. I had ideas of driving by Baptist Medical with my son and telling him about his siblings... they would likely never meet, but it felt like a sweet moment.  

I already mentioned that the cost was under our budget, but that's just SO rare. It was an answer to so many prayers.

All of that just made it seem so fitting. And then we got the check. It felt like things were just clicking into place. The stars were aligning and all that junk... we were almost giddy. We've been on the wrong end of SO many things the last few years. 70% odds somehow turn into 10% odds for us. Opportunity turns to ashes, but THIS felt different. 

And then we "met" her and I fell in love with her. Really. She was so great. An absolute answer to prayer. I admittedly struggle to relate to some expectant moms. But this woman, it felt like we were so similar. She described herself as a sort of shy, people-pleaser who loves to write and is good at math. She said she writes to process her thoughts. It was so very apparent that she loved her son to pieces. Her questions for us were direct, intelligent, articulate, and important. I was just so impressed with her. I wanted it to work out 10,000 times more (if that's even possible) after speaking with her because I really liked HER and felt like we could have a great relationship going forward. 

So what went wrong? Well first of all, I think I probably felt a lot more connected to her than she did to me. Our interview was just that... an interview. The agency rep alternated reading our questions-- one to her, one to us. It didn't allow for conversation really, just question, answer, question, answer. So while I'm hearing her talk about herself, I'm thinking "omg... twinsies" but she never got to hear how similar we were, how I was oddly good at math and writing too, an odd combination. She didn't get to hear that we had tons of similarities. We also had a lot of similar family history. Her questions for us were much more direct... parenting strategies, work ethic, religious beliefs… harder things to connect on. We answered as well as we could, and we were honest, so if she didn't choose us because of one of our answers, well, I wouldn't change what I said. I mean maybe a word or two, maybe different phrasing, but the words were true, so the message wouldn't change. 

When I heard the news on Friday afternoon, I asked if they knew why she picked the other couple. They had said over and over again that she really loved us, that it took her two full days to decide because after meeting both couples, the decision just got harder. She didn't want to disappoint either couple (see how awesome she is?). Ultimately, they felt that the baby's name is what pushed her over the edge. 

The agency rep had told me when we were selected as one of two that she was pretty sure the expectant mom would ask us if we had a name picked out because she did. I asked if I could know the name just so we wouldn't be caught off guard. Believe it or not, I loved the name. It was on my list of names way back when I kept a card of names in my bedside table as if I was going to need forty names for all these kids we were going to have. Further proof that this was meant to be... to me. The name never came up for us. She never mentioned it, and I didn't bring it up, as it felt weird to me to appear as if I already knew all of this information about her. Like the agency and I just gossiped about her for hours. Apparently it did come up in the other couple's conversation. And more specifically, the other couple had a photo in their profile book with a painting in their basement in the background. The painting lists three important cities to them... one of those cities is the name she had chosen. So literally the name of the child she loved so much was written on the wall of this couple's home long before they had ever met. 

So here I am feeling all connected to her and feeling like everything is falling into place so beautifully. There were just so many signs pointing to this being our firstborn. But at the same time that I'm reading the "signs" there's a literal sign telling her to pick the other couple. I mean how crazy is that? The agency thinks ultimately that's what made her decision... she loved us both, felt we were both great choices, so when she didn't feel a clear answer, she went with what felt perfect to her. 

So that's basically it... we weren't chosen. I am admittedly pretty heartbroken. But also embarrassed, discouraged, and frustrated. I wanted this situation to work out SO badly. It didn't, and now we are back at square one... no pending cases, no one is looking at our profile, we're just waiting for another scenario to come across within our budget. It's ridiculously embarrassing to put all of this our there for the world to see and then everyone watch you not get picked… I feel like everyone's thinking "what is wrong with them?" I'm frustrated with myself for not leading the conversation more, for not adding what I was thinking, for not telling her how similar we are and how great we think she is. And I'm really discouraged. It took us almost 6 months to get to this point. I just keep thinking that it could be another 6 months before we're there again.

I must say though that I'm just so gosh darn thankful for the love and support we've been shown this last week, and throughout this whole journey. Suzanne wrote a beautiful post that made me cry, and then the comments made me cry more. Thank you for the Facebook messages, texts, phone calls, real life hugs… each has absolutely meant the world to me. I've never in my life felt so supported and loved than I have in these last few months. Random gifts from blog friends like Jane who sent me an adorable t-shirt to wear when I go shopping for the baby. And on Saturday I received a surprise package... some crazy, awesome human ordered the She Read's Truth Ampersand t-shirt that I mentioned in the last post. I mean, who does that? (anyone want to fess up? No? Well THANK YOU whoever you are!!!) I've just been so, so blessed. It would be so easy to say Sara Hagerty's words that I wrote about last week--"Of course. This is just how my life goes. Why should I expect it to be different? If I want something, it will always elude me." After last week, it would just be so easy to feel cursed. But while the situation ended far differently than I had hoped, I know I'm not cursed as I've seen the Father's love for me manifested in the hands and feet of those around me. I am so blessed to be so loved and supported. So thank you all.

I Said No

The last five years have really taught me the value of a dollar. I mean, ever since my parents' divorce I've been slowly learning this lesson, but getting married and plunging head first into grad school will give you a crash course really quickly. Sam and I lived comfortably, but we regularly said no to fun things that first year of marriage. We would hear about a party with friends or a night out for dinner and a movie with another couple and we would say to one another, "I don't know how they do it!" We were makings ends meet... no ramen noodles on our menu, but we were certainly learning to cut corners and the easiest corners to cut for us have always been entertainment and eating out.

And then, after that first 18 months of marriage, infertility treatments smashed like a freight train right into our lives. It seemed like I couldn't possibly cut the budget anymore. But as time went on, I just simply learned to do without. I never ordered Mary Kay makeup again. When it ran out, I went to Target and bought the cheapest thing I could find. My shampoo was whatever was on sale, plus a coupon. I learned to color my own hair if I wanted a color change. Dinner and a movie changed to Redbox and a five dollar pizza from Little Caesar. Slowly, I began to become a person who says "no" to all "extras." I would say my only real splurge at this time is Starbucks coffee... I'm an espresso drink fan and I literally work 50 feet from Starbucks, but for the most part, I stick to whatever we agree to reload to the card each month. 

My husband is not a fan of the "no" me. There have been so many times that he's wanted to go play golf, or go bowling, or go to dinner. While I'm certainly not the decision maker in this family, I have a way of shining a light on the budget. "Oh, how great babe, I didn't know you found an extra $70 on the ground last week... how perfect for your golf game," It's really an art form. 70% of the time, I successfully guilt lovingly suggest that we should once again skip this activity. The 30% of the time I fail to convince him, I'm really awesome at providing the silent treatment or playing the guilt game over his failure to commit to whatever we're saving for. "I'm so glad you enjoyed your breakfast with friends, love! That's really awesome that you got waffles and hashbrowns, foods you can make for a buck fifty, while our IVF savings account sits about half full"... I wish I could say that those words never came out of my mouth, but they have, more times than I'd like to admit.

Truly, I feel guilty about spending money on things we don't "need." Dinner with my husband just doesn't fall in the necessary column. I've been struggling the last few years to recognize the value in doing things together. Or with friends. The concept of date night is 100% foreign to me at this point. We haven't been to a movie together in over a year, and before that maybe two or more. The last time we went out for a nice dinner was for our anniversary almost two years ago, and that was because we had a gift card which covered 100% of the meal.

While I definitely see the benefits of being thrifty, living below our means, choosing to make sacrifices, etc. I can also say that there are certain losses with that type of life. The loss of friendship opportunities is certainly there. Say no to manicures and karaoke nights enough and eventually your friends will give up on you. I've been fortunate to have FANTASTIC friends who never give up on me, and regularly extend the offer, but I imagine I'm pretty much the lamest friend ever. The answer is always no.

I can also see how the long term presence of "no" within the marriage begins to take effect too. Once upon a time, we thought of little ways to surprise each other... even if it was totally lame like "hey babe, I bought you 64 ounces of diet coke" (swoon). So much of that kind of "I thought of you, so I..." and "I love you, so lets..." has died. Now I'm sure part of that is because hello, we've been married for almost 5 years. The honeymoon is o-ver. But our financial struggles with infertility and now adoption have certainly only added to the problem. so many well-meaning people over the years have suggested that I use this time to "be married." What they mean by that is celebrate our marriage and the good things we have with date nights and vacations and special things. I've literally been told to let Sam "lavish" me multiple times. I've yet to laugh or fire back at that comment but really, things are so far from lavish around here. And that's okay. I'm not looking at my husband thinking why "why haven't you planned a secret getaway?" We live this way because I want to, because I want more for us than date nights and vacations.

I've been thinking lately how much of this attitude has simply become who I am. I don't even think, "well, I'd love to, but..." I don't check the accounts for margin. It takes me less than two seconds to answer because the answer is always no. I sometimes think that once we complete this adoption, I'll loosen up and live a little more. But the honest truth is, I probably won't. At least not willingly. I'll have diapers and formula and daycare to add to the budget. And I'll have those four embryos in Florida to worry about. I can think of 10,000 excuses to stay exactly as I am. But I also think about the child we're hoping to bring home, the one we've waited for for so long. And I wonder if this is the kind of mother I want to be. I'm not talking about blowing the budget, going into debt, that sort of thing... I know that's not the lifestyle I want to live. But do I want to be a mom who feels guilty about spending gas money to drive my kid to the park? I see moms who enroll their kids in swim class and music lessons and gymnastics and all that kind of stuff and I wonder, if we ever get there, to that point in life, will I recognize those expenses for what they are or will I just say no? Has the need to constantly save altered who I am down to my very core so that all if know how to do is say no? Will I ever learn to say yes again?

Another Year Over and a New One Just Begun

It's apparently that time. Time to look back, reflect, remember, and ruminate. Honestly, these posts seem to occur a bit too frequently for my taste. I remember exactly where I was sitting this time last year. I was in Jacksonville, already on my fifth day of stims and thinking what a badass I was for surviving that many injections. Jacksonville and IVF and crushed dreams don't seem that long ago. It just doesn't seem possible that a whole year has passed. But it has; it did, and honestly, we've got some decent things to show for it. 2014 will always be the year of the failed IVF cycle (and FET), but it will also be the year we bought our first home and decided to adopt. We've done a lot of growing this year, and since the growing isn't just around our waistlines, I'll call that a win. 

Among infertility and TTC blogs, the end of the year can be a time of renewed hope in some ways. A way to say "sayonara" to the year that screwed you out of your dreams. You know, give it the ol' "don't let the door hit you" kind of thing. The past year may have sucked in the baby making department, but next year, oh baby, next year is going to be the year. We all say it, hoping that it turns out true. I've certainly done it year after year. I'll be honest and say that I really thought 2014 might be our year. First with IVF. And then I held out hope for adoption. I didn't necessarily think we'd bring a baby home that fast, but I have to admit that I was really holding out hope that we'd match before the year was out. It would have been nice to end the year on a note of anticipation and excitement. But we're here again, and this post sounds a lot sounds a like last year's, except maybe slightly less hopeful. Repetition is really only fun in certain forms, like alliteration. It's certainly zero fun to feel like déjà vu is a permanent feature of your life. So I'm hopping off this repeating record… let's end this year with a celebration!

I submitted my post Still in the Trenches for Mel's  2014 Creme de la Creme. I don't necessarily think it was my best post of the year, but rather the best summation of the year. Although I'm still stuck in the bottom of this stupid, stinking, mud-filled trench, but 2014 was a really good year for a ton of my friends. So here's to you ladies:

Emily @ The Empty Uterus: baby girl born February 6, 2014

Lindsey @ Operation Baby Gage: baby boy born February 11, 2014

Laura @ The Adventures of an Infertile Myrtle: baby girl born February 16, 2014

Lentil @ Lamenting the Lentil: twin boy and girl born February 19, 2014

Rain Before Rainbow: baby girl born February 27, 2014

Ali @ Here I Go Again: baby girl born March 1, 2014

dspence @ Donating Hope: baby boy born March 5, 2014

Kimberly @ No Good Eggs: twin boy and girl born March 27, 2014

Em @ Teach Me to Braid: twin boys born April 17, 2014

Erin @ Gypsy Mama's Magic Moments: baby girl born May 27, 2014

Aubrey @ Two Hearts and One Dream: twin boys born June 5, 2014

Rebecca @ The Road Less Traveled: baby girl born June 9, 2014

Amanda @ beloved burnt toast: baby girl born June 23, 2014

Mrs. Lost @ Where is That Bird?: twin boys born July 10, 2014

Hopeful and Hungry: twin girls born July 14, 2014

Erika @ Something Beautiful: baby girl born August 5, 2014
Emily @ Eat Love Procreate: baby boy born August 18, 2014

Annie @ Sweetest in the Gale: baby boy born August 22, 2014

Beth@ Beth & Harrison Slatery: baby girl born October 7, 2014

Allison @ Belle Haven Drive: twin girls born October 8, 2014, rest in peace Emmanuelle Mac

Julia @ Finding a Way Out of IF: baby boy born October 9, 2014

Conceptionally Challenged: baby girl born October 26, 2014

Infertile 625 @ Hidden Infertility: baby boy born October 30, 2014

Shay @ Sweet Silver Linings: baby boy born November 8, 2014

Holly @ Oh Baby, Baby: twin boys born November 14, 2014

The Unexpected Trip: baby boy born December 2014

Tracy @ Just Stop Trying and It Will Happen: baby girl born December 7, 2014

A Few Good Eggs: baby girl born December 28, 2014

Geez, did I miss anybody? I'd say it was a very, very good year. Congratulations again girls! 

I have a pretty good feeling about 2015 too. I mean, did you hear? Suzanne's got two solid betas  already and an ultrasound on the calendar. Quite a number of my friends have already announced 2015 due dates, so I'd say the year is off to a good start. So, so long to 2014. Hoping that 2015 is filled with an equal number of blessings. Love and hugs to you all, whether you'll be snuggling at home with your baby tonight in your PJs or anxiously awaiting a new year with the chance for renewed hope. And if 2014 was most definitely not your year due to miscarriage, or loss, or 10,000 BFNs, hang in there. If nothing else, the good fortune of so many in 2014 should bring us renewed hope that there are ladders aplenty in this trench. Let's find one and start climbing.

It's Time

I imagine we all have special relationships within this community. For one reason or another, some just burrow down deep into our hearts. Time, and distance, and course of treatment don't affect the relationship. You can be adopting in Georgia and she can be doing donor eggs via a gestational carrier in Colorado and it doesn't change a thing. I've had many of those friendships find me throughout this infertility journey. Every single woman behind every single blog has meant so much to me, but there are always some who are forever a part of my story. One of those women for me is Suzanne.

It was a late night in September 2013. Suzanne and I had been texting throughout the evening. She was really worried about her donor, "Goose, " and her response to stims. Things were going much slower than expected and we were all very worried about a cancelled cycle. I remember riding down Broad Street with my husband when the strangest words came out of my mouth: "I want Suzanne to get this [a baby] more than I want it for us." It sounded weird, but as I talked it out with him, I kept coming to the same conclusion. I wanted a baby with every fiber of my being, but there were some ladies who I had grown to love deeply over the years who just, I don't know "deserved" it more. That's not really the right word... reproduction is a basic faculty of humanity... we all "deserve" to have that work correctly, in between the bed sheets and not under paper ones or in a lab. So that's not the word, but I don't know what is... I just knew that I really, really, REALLY needed this to work for these special friends. I detailed the absolutely overwhelming circumstances that Aubrey and Suzanne and other friends were up against at that time and explained that they were so brave, so strong, so deserving. That I just needed this to work… it would be a healing force to my faith.

Thankfully, just a few months later, Aubrey got THE BEST NEWS EVER. I got the news from Aubrey while sitting in a Georgia Basketball game… I'll never forget it. As I read her news, tears streamed down my cheeks. This was exactly what I had wanted for her… the tears were 100% pure joy! If Suzanne could just transfer and bring home a baby, if Erika could bring home her daughter, all would somehow be right with the wold. But all was not right… as we've all seen, things go right for one person, and terribly horribly wrong for others with no rhyme or reason. Aubrey's good news was not the catalyst for more for my other sweet friends. Since then, the tears I've shed for Suzanne have not been for joy. They have been for frustration. For heart ache. For anger. The last year has not been kind to Suzanne. Thankfully her egg donor rallied after that night and some beautiful embryos were created from her precious gift of eggs. I thought I would be hearing similarly incredible news from Suzanne when I heard about her six embryos, but the months since then have been filled with more and more bad news.

I think I've cried just as many tears over her journey as my own. I mean, take a second and go read her TTC Timeline tab. Suzanne and I started trying to conceive just months apart... May 2011 for me and July 2011 for Suzanne. I stand here today, 44 months into the longest, hardest, battle of my life and I'm exhausted. I feel discouraged. I feel broken. I'm just so tired.... but I haven't been through one fraction of what Suzanne has. Natural BFPs, miscarraige, ectopics, oral meds, injectable medications, IUIs, failed IVF, donor eggs, scarred cervix, Asherman's Syndrome, failed FET... She's been through it all. I know Suzanne has felt as if the stars always align against her on 10,000 occasions. Can you blame her? I mean, gah, that's just crazy you guys. But Suzanne has been SO strong though all of this. She has never once heard bad news and let it crush her. She's been knocked down so many times, but every. single. time. she and her husband find a way, come up with a plan, push forward. Theres is a beautiful story of strength in the face of adversity. And through it all, no matter what she had going on in her own life, Suzanne was cheering me on, sending me gifts, being a true friend. And I know many of you have felt the same love and support for her. When she had every right to turn inward and be bitter and not care about others, she chose to love and support and cheer for her friends.

But you guys, it's time for that story to have a happy ending. Today, thanks to her incredible surrogate, K, Suzanne will have the opportunity to place two of her beautiful embryos into a healthy uterus. You guys, my heart my actually explode from pure joy. If I could reach K right now, I'd wrap her up in the biggest hug, and squeeze her tight. Her gift means so much to me. This year has been such a good year for so many of my precious friends. Well over half of my infertile sisters have crossed that illustrious line this year and they are now celebrating the holidays with beautiful, snugly, chubby cheeked little ones. There would be absolutely no better way to cap off this year than a positive pregnancy test for Suzanne. Today is step one. Join with me in praying for a successful transfer today and a long 40 weeks of pregnancy to follow. It's time.

Hop on over to Suzanne's blog and give her some love and support today. Send her an email. Shoot her a text. Let her know that we love her, we're proud of her, and we're rooting for her and and her husband every step of the way.

This Community

Every single day I am thankful for this community. I have no idea how anyone lives through infertility alone... simply can't imagine. This community of women from different cities, different states, different countries, all come together to support one another during the hardest years of our lives. It's a really beautiful thing. No matter where you are in the journey, you can find someone to walk alongside you. If you're pursuing an egg donor, you're in good company. If you're on your third round of IVF, you're not alone. If your choosing to forgo treatments in hope of a miracle or because you're choosing to live child free, you are guaranteed to find someone who feels just like you. This community is absolutely, hands down, the best part about infertility.

I'm so thankful every day for the connections, the friendships, the stories. When days are good, it's wonderful to have a group of people cheering for you, supporting you, and encouraging you. When things go terribly wrong, this community becomes vital in the blink of an eye. When the rest of the world doesn't know what to do or what to say, our sisters do. We know how to rally. We know how to love. I'm thankful everyday for this blog, that by some small miracle led me to each of you. I don't take that for granted in anyway. Infertility has affected every single part of my life, and most of the time those effects feel negative, but the one thing I can say without a doubt is this: the friendships I've formed here are so positive. These friendships are life breathing in some of the darkest of days. I'm so thankful for the infertility community and all that it brings every day, but today I am particularly thankful.

In case you haven't heard, Jessah's egg donor is Suzanne's gestational carrier... how crazy awesome it that?!? When you hear the stories, you've simply got to stop and say wow. The fact that two blogs from two women on opposite ends of the country walking different journeys ended up at the same clinic on the same day for very different procedures and that somehow that led us to today is mind blowing!

I remember when Jessah first posted about finding her donor, I sobbed, What an incredible gift! What a beautiful opportunity! What a selfless woman, K must be to offer the gift of her eggs! I was so happy for her. But around the same time, everything was falling apart for Suzanne. After the wildest, longest, hardest journey to the transfer, her FET using donor eggs failed. Life isn't supposed to be that hard, people. Suzanne and I discussed surrogacy. And we discussed the cost... and I almost vomited. Renting uterus space and time is expensive. I wanted so badly to find a solution for Suzanne and her husband, but wanting to solve a problem doesn't make you a ready made solution. But then, because of this community, because of the connections we form, because of that one meeting in Colorado, because of the generosity of one woman, Suzanne suddenly had a possible match.

It's been a very long road to today, and there is more road to travel for both of these ladies. Jessah's about half way through her pregnancy and Suzanne is still setting up and finalizing the details for her transfer. But you guys, if these stories don't give you goosebumps and a BIG goofy grin on your face, I don't know what will. Jessah explains in her post that it was meeting Suzanne and hearing her speak about egg donation that gave her and her husband the courage and desire to move forward with egg donation when her cycles at CCRM failed... that in and of itself is a beautiful testimony to this community. Our stories help each other. Our experiences help our friends. When you add in Suzanne's part to the story and you learn how she found K... wow! You guys, this place is so special.

My heart is simply bursting with happiness! Suzanne and her husband signed the contract with K and her husband over the weekend. It's real people! It's going to happen. Two of the longest, hardest journey's among us are going to end well, and not just well, but beautifully! This community just makes me so happy and so thankful! This is a beautiful place made up of beautiful people!

THAT Person

I've often wondered why infertility is a part of my life. When you've tried for three plus years to get pregnant, you have a lot of time to muse. At various times I've wondered about EVERY possibility: population control, a test of faith, a lesson in patience, to prevent some future catastrophe... the brain can go WILD with the options and all that time to wonder. Lately, I've wondered if I'm slated to be that friend... you know the one you go to when X happens. For me, the X, is pregnancy loss or infertility diagnosis.

Hannah's story in the Bible has often been a place of refuge for me in the past few years. I feel like I can really understand her story in ways that I can't really grasp Ruth's or Mary's, you know? First of all, she was so distraught over her situation she wept... I definitely get that. There has been much weeping in the last few years. Secondly, people thought she was crazy (like drunk crazy) and didn't understand her sorrow. I've certainly had conversations and questions over the years which have further proven to me that until you've walked this road, you'll never understand. I get what it feels like to be misunderstood. I get what it feels like when people point out all the other blessings in your life and tell you to be happy (while holding their third child). I understand Hannh's sorrow and her pain. I haven't felt her joy yet, but I imagine my prayer of thanksgiving would be similar.

There's one part of Hannah's story that always gets me... "the Lord had closed her womb." I've often wondered if that's simply Old Testament code for infertile or if it's more literal. Did the Lord literally, intentionally, and specifically close Hannah's womb? Was she a lovely, happy, fertile woman, able to pop out 6-10 babies in her lifetime except for the small detail that the Lord said "no". You can see why this would bug me, I'm sure. I've often wondered why in the world the Lord would prevent Hannah from having a child for so long. Obviously there was a plan, but the details and rationale aren't really spelled out in the text. I find myself pretty peeved about the situation on Hannah's behalf. Now sure, the argument could be made that Samuel had to come along at that exact moment for the plan to come to fruition, but arguments like that just rub me the wrong way sometimes. God is God, and He's all powerful... it could have been both. Hannah could have been fertile, happy, AND have had Samuel at that exact moment in time. 

So why give Hannah a small, but powerful role in the story? Why give a minor character, a woman no less, a voice in the Old Testament? I like to think that the Lord knew that thousands of years later, other women with crappy wombs and broken eggs would take comfort in her story. I wonder if Hannah, even within her lifetime, became that go to person. When women from neighboring areas struggled to conceive, did they turn to Hannah for hope, for empathy, for a friend?

I certainly don't think this is the only reason for my infertility or my miscarraiges, and I'm not equating myself with Hannah, but I'm starting to wonder if infertility is a part of my life so that I can be that person for others. You see, when miscarriages occur, people think of me. It doesn't matter if we're related, best friends, old friends, or haven't spoken in 10 years, people reach out looking for advice, for hope, for a shoulder to cry on, for someone who understands. When people get the dreaded "infertile" diagnosis, they come to me. They want help, they want the secret to not murdering their peppy, optimistic husbands, they want advice on dealing with the annoying questions. I'm that person when this type of thing happens.

In a lot of ways, it's an honor. An honor that people would turn to me, an honor that they think of me, and honor that they trust me. It's also a burden, one that I gladly bear, but a burden none the less. As you might imagine, the circles that I'm a member of deal with pregnancy loss more than "normal". But I often feel like a bad luck charm, like women around me are destined to lose their children. On any given day, someone is blogging about the loss of a pregnancy. That's tough. Some days it feels like we're all destined to stay here, in this pit forever. Some days it feels like all of our babies will die. Add in the real life friends who turn to me in these moments and some days, it's overwhelming... some days I feel like I eat, breathe, and sleep pregnancy loss. It's my whole world. Some days, my only thought upon waking up is that I hope no one's baby dies today... literally. Last week I had four different friends in the process of losing a pregnancy. Between real life and the blog world, some days it feels like a miracle if I make it through a week without terrible news. Some days I'm just walking in a perpetual state of sadness, of mourning, of sorrow so far down deep in my soul for the loss that surrounds me.

Last week started off with the news from Suzanne that her FET transfer had failed. I can't explain the sadness I felt with this one. I was prepared for the news. Suzanne had faithfully updated me throughout her two week wait. I knew the chances were slim as she was testing daily, but sometimes, it's the friend's job to hold on to hope because you can't hope for yourself any longer. I've been there. I get that, so I was holding onto hope. My heart broke when she confirmed the negative beta. Anger and frustration at the Lord rose up while tears fell down my face as I stood in my kitchen questioning The Plan and His ways. The week before had been filled with similarly terrible news. Twenty five year-old women shouldn't lose their first pregnancy. I know because it happened to me. It feels wrong every time it happens, and this one was particularly hard. When my precious friend shared her news with me, the memories came rushing back... the joy at that (deceitful) little stick of good news, the confusion over the beta numbers, the fear, the sadness, the mourning. 

Sometimes the sadness is deep. There's my own sadness, which in and of itself is enough to swallow me up some days. And then there's the burden of mutual sorrow, of bearing up alongside of a friend, or carrying a little piece of their pain... the burden of abiding with that person through the valley. When your world is filled with infertility and pregnancy loss, it can feel like you simply live in the valley awaiting the next person to need you. But maybe this is the reason, or at least a part of it. Maybe I'm where I am, maybe I've experienced what I have so that I can have empathy rather than sympathy. Maybe infertility and pregnancy loss are a part of my story so that I can say, "I've been there".

Unfortunately, I'm not great at offering support, particularly for first time pregnancy loss. Not because I don't care, but because it's hard to put myself in her shoes... my own shoes have traveled a lot farther and it's nearly impossible to unwalk those miles. My first loss was almost three years ago... time and infertility have changed me. And while the emotions are still there, it's hard for me to put myself back there in Augusta, Ga at the age of 25 when that precious digital test read "pregnant" and I believed everything was right with the world. It's hard to remember a time when I didn't know what I know now. It's hard to remember that I was hysterical over the loss. It's hard to remember that my falling hCG numbers still didn't indicate a miscarriage to me. I was waiting on a miracle. It's hard to remember that thoughts like "just stitch my cervix closed so it can't come out" circled through my head even while the blood spilled out. It's hard to remove the knowledge that I now have, the experience that I now have, the protective shell that I've developed since then. The world I live in is FULL of pregnancy loss. Filled to the absolute brim and spilling over. It's hard to remember a time when I felt like the only person in the world who had suffered like this. I'm sure my friends occasionally need less head knowledge and more heart. Less statistics and more stories. I'm sure they often just want someone to cry with them. I could do that; I really could. But here's the thing, if I start, I may never stop. Because the tears I cry aren't just for her baby, but for my babies, and for all of my friends' babies... and that's a lot of tears. 

But like I said, maybe this is my role, maybe this is my purpose. If so, I'm thankful to at least have a purpose. If I could wave a magic wand and end pregnancy loss all together, believe me I would. If I could end all of that pain for you and for me, I would do it in a heartbeat. But since I can't, since my magic wand is broken, all I can say is that I'm here. If you've never lost a pregnancy, I pray your day never comes. I pray you're one of the lucky ones, but if it does, I'll be here. If the horrendous diagnosis of infertility is ever whispered your direction, I'm here. I've been through both. It's an honor and a privilege to stand alongside of you in your darkest moment. This is part of the reason I'm thankful that I'm public with my story, so that other women never think they are alone in their pain. I think many of my infertility and repeat pregnancy loss sisters would agree: the pain is unfathomable, the fear is overwhelming, the sadness is all encompassing, but a friend, someone to understand and say "I've been there" can make all the difference. So if it ever happens, don't suffer alone. Find that person in your life.