Baby Showers

How do you all feel about baby showers? I hate them. I never want to go to them, and I rarely do. (I didn't even really like wedding showers all that much either, but I'm old enough that I've passed out of friends/family having wedding showers and have moved into baby showers.)

It's weird. I'm always happy for the people having a baby. Having a baby is a great thing and definitely worth celebrating. I just don't like to go to a party and ooh and aah over a bunch of baby stuff. Or ooh and aah over a pregnant lady.

Quick catch up for anyone new - Mister and I were married in 2003, TTC 2004-2006, and started our adoption process in 2010.  So it's been a long road without children. A friend who was married the same weekend as me and started TTC around the same time as us now has 3 kids and her oldest is halfway through kindergarten. It's been a long time that I've been without children. I know it's not a race, and everyone finds their way at their own pace and I'm OK with that. Except at baby showers.

A long time ago, I drew the line that I would not go to baby showers. Except for the showers of certain very close friends or if either of my 2 SILs had baby showers. Otherwise, I send a gift and make alternate plans for the day.

Mister doesn't understand why I've drawn that line, why it's hard for me to go to showers, why it makes me sad. While it's true that (fringe acquaintance/colleague/family member) having a baby has no impact on our ability to ever have a baby, it's somehow related. I can't quite explain why they're related, but they somehow are.

I've always said that I don't want a shower when it's my turn. I hate being the center of a party like that, I hated it at my bridal showers, I hated pretending I was happy and excited to open another set of bowls or towels. I mean, I was happy to get the stuff, of course, but really, they're bowls. Or towels. And I made a list and said, "Buy me this." and then they did. How excited can I be about it? Part of me not wanting a shower also goes along with the uncertainty of domestic adoption. There's a part of me that won't believe our match or placement is true until a year has gone by. I don't want to open boxes of clothes and monitors and whatever else people need for a baby and then not have a baby, you know?  So it's not likely that I'll register, I'm really hoping that I won't have a shower, and that's kind of how I want it.

But this all comes up today not because I'm thinking of a shower for myself anyway. I talked to my dad today and he told me that my aunt is looking for my address because this cousin's baby is due in April. And April is soon. And my aunt is having a shower for my cousin. And before my dad even told me what the date was, I was making plans to be out of town that day... I'd prefer to send a gift and make other plans for the day. As I do. But I know that Mister will want me to go, which is all fine and good since he won't be invited, so we'll see. And I know that my dad would never understand why I don't do baby showers. I think the only way I'd go to this shower is if my SIL is planning on going. And I bet she isn't. At least I hope she isn't.

Please tell me that I'm not a terrible person for:
1) Hating baby showers in general
2) Not planning to have one for myself when I have a baby
3) Not going to my cousin's baby shower

Old Friend

An old friend has recently resurfaced in our lives after several years. He was Mister's roommate in college, and a very close friend to both of us. He was kind of like my 4th brother. After college, he ended up moving to Boston, so we remained close and all saw each other often.

In 2007, he called me to say that his wife was pregnant and they were moving cross-country to be closer to his wife's family. We all got together one final time in Boston before they moved, and that was the last time we saw them. Not really because of anything but that they lived really far away, they lived in a small house and didn't have a guest room, and shortly thereafter they had a new baby so it would become hard for them to travel often.

Shortly after his baby was born, I started to really think about and deal with my grief about infertility. I think after our diagnosis, I sort of slid through, thinking, "When we're ready, we'll adopt" like it would be that simple. Also shortly after his baby was born, he fell in love with his sweet daughter. He would, with his heart in a good place, wanting us to share in his love, e-mail us frequently and say, "When are you guys having kids?! You've been married a long time. Come on!!" and other things like that. I ignored the e-mails and continued with my new job that I loved, and kept thinking, "when we're ready, we'll adopt."

He sent me one too many of those e-mails once, and I opened up to him, sharing the story of our infertility, sharing my grief and sadness that our life hadn't turned out as we planned. I told him that we were hoping to adopt someday, but that we weren't ready yet. Until then, I didn't want him to ask me about it anymore. I told him that if he wants to talk to Mister about it, that's fine, but I didn't want to talk about my hope for the future when it was so nebulous and so very connected to my sadness about the present.

Because he is a kind and sensitive person, he said the right things, that he was sorry that we're sad, he's sorry about our infertility, he never meant to make us feel bad and that he too was hopeful for our future.

We really didn't talk much after that e-mail exchange, and I felt guilty, like it was my fault. I threw this awkwardness out there, and neither one of us really knew how to deal with it. So neither one of us really did deal with it and it just kind of sat there. Meanwhile, we're thousands of miles apart, busy with our own lives. It might have been different had we been nearby, because we probably still would have continued to see each other frequently. When you only talk on e-mail, it's hard to talk about anything but the most major things in your life. His was a new baby, mine was lack of a baby. So we kind of drifted apart.

Recently, he and his wife announced that they're expecting their second child later this year. Obviously, we love them, so we're thrilled for them. On the other hand, they have a 3 year old we've never met... :(

The part that's really funny to me is that within the last few months, he must have somehow been missing us a lot. He reconnected with Mister and they played fantasy sports together and have completely resurrected their friendship. The added benefit for me is that he has reached out to me as well, e-mailing frequently and actually stating his desire to be friends again, to write more often, and to talk on the phone. He offered to play fantasy sports with me, but I don't play, so I challenged him to online Scrabble instead!

So this friend who had been almost completely absent from our lives for the last 3 years is back. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason other than that he missed us and that our friendship was important enough to him that he regretted drifting apart. And honestly, I missed him too, so I'm grateful that he was willing to reach out, to make this effort. I appreciate that my friend had the wisdom to feel like our history as friends was more important than the awkwardness that pushed us apart. The thing that was holding me back was really the awkwardness. How, after saying, "don't ask me about when I'm going to have a baby" do you go back to talking about baseball scores and the weather and other people you know? Especially when all the other people you know are also having babies at the same time? The awkwardness only got bigger and bigger the longer it sat. Yet when he reached out, I realized I actually didn't feel awkward at all anymore. So I'm even more grateful for his renewed effort in our friendship than I thought at first.

Interpersonal relationships are funny. That's for sure.

Infertility on TV

Did you watch How I Met Your Mother last night? What did you think?

I actually didn't watch it when it was on, but I saw a lot of people in my Facebook feed talking about how funny shows shouldn't make people cry and people were feeling sad. So this morning, knowing what it was about (kind of) I decided to watch it on CBS.com.

I have to say, I was kind of annoyed at all my well-meaning friends for the first 20 minutes of the show. (On CBS.com, it's only a 21 minute show!) It was a funny episode, I thought. Dark, of course, which is really the only kind of humor around when having invasive tests at the RE's office. As we all know.

Then the last few minutes were kind of a gut-punching twist that I wasn't expecting. Took me right back to 2005, it did.

**SPOILER**

Infertility and the death of a parent... sheesh. That's crappy. But hey, at least they're not actually infertile. It just hasn't happened for them yet. Which, whatever. It was clearly the worst year of my life that began with the death of my mother and ended with an infertility diagnosis. I wouldn't wish that year on an enemy or a stranger. Or even a fictional TV character.

But it wouldn't be bad to see a TV character actually be infertile and continue to live their lives. Come on TV, show us what it's really like. I'm sure that whatever show tried to actually document infertility would get terrible ratings.

On the other hand...

You know what show on TV that I have always thought deals with infertility in a sensitive and almost realistic way? King of the Hill. Seriously.

I don't know how many people watch King of the Hill anymore. It's on Cartoon Network and Fox reruns late at night. But the thing I love about the infertility story line is that it comes up sometimes. Hank and Peggy had trouble conceiving Bobby, and now he's 12 or 13. They would have liked to have had more children, but they never did. But 13 years later, it still kind of bugs them.

Sometimes. Not always, and since their son is 13, they've kind of moved on. But every once in a while, they'll talk about wishing they could have had other children, or that they would like to try to have another baby. (This is where the realism comes in...) But of course, Peggy never gets pregnant again. And the best part is that they just live their lives. They have this sadness around this one part of their lives, something they always wish could have been different.

And just like in real life, they always wish their lives had been different, but they weren't. This is their life, and they continue to live it. I'm sure if the show had been focused when Bobby was 2 or 3 and Hank and Peggy were TTC again, infertility would have taken over a lot more space on the show. But since he's in middle school, they're dealing with middle school, and "Boy, I wish we had been able to have more children..." comes up once in a while.

The thing that I always wondered about King of the Hill and infertility is because it's so sensitive and realistic, I wondered which writer had that personal experience. Because seriously, who's going to imagine that that's how it feels? Clearly writers can't, otherwise How I Met Your Mother would have ended differently. Or Charlotte never would have (finally) gotten pregnant (with one *of her own*) after adopting from China in Sex and the City. Or any of the other contrived infertility tropes we see on TV and in movies.

So knowing that someone who worked for King of the Hill had that personal, first-hand experience kind of makes me sad for that person. Because as I said earlier, I wouldn't wish it on an enemy or a stranger. Or a fictional TV character. Or, apparently, the writers of said fictional TV characters.

Have you seen infertility portrayed in new and interesting ways on TV lately?

Venting

I'm just going to take a moment to point out something that bugs the crap out of me.

I *HATE* this commercial.

"It's 2 AM.... Christmas morning... our first Christmas as a family."

After feeling angry that Kay Jewelers obviously thinks that Mister and I are not a family, I feel sad for these 2 jackasses that their lives had no meaning until apparently 2 months ago when they made a baby.

Now, in order to present the most balanced approach, I will say that it's possible that they were not a family last Christmas. My parents were married in January and my brother was born in December of the same year. So Christmas 1973 really was my parents' first Christmas as a family. And they had a new baby. So while it's possible that these people were married in early January and got pregnant immediately thereafter, I really don't think that's the Kay implication on that one.

So yuck on that commercial. Because Mister and I are a family. A small family, but a family nonetheless. Whether we ever have a baby or not, Mister is my family.

Because I don't want to leave on a sour note, I will sign off with my absolute favorite Christmas commercial in the history of Christmas commercials.

I love that little red kiss with the solo at the end. And then he's so worn out he has to wipe his brow. As if a Hershey Kiss has a brow! It's so cute.

What commercials do you love (or hate) lately?

Waiting

Last week, I was on an adoption related forum, and a bunch of the posters were talking about adoption Christmas ornaments. I have to say, I've seen many, and I've never seen any that were my taste at all. (If you're reading this and thinking, "I love adoption ornaments and I have 35 of them on my tree!" I'm sorry and I don't mean to insult you or your tree. I'm sure your tree is lovely, but adoption ornaments have just never been my thing.)

Anyway, on this forum, one lady posted a picture of an ornament that she got while she was waiting to adopt her daughter. It said, "We will hold you in our hearts until we can hold you in our arms." For whatever reason, that struck me as one of the most lovely sentiments I'd ever read. And it was phrased nicely. It just hit all the right notes for me.

I told Mister about it, and he rolled his eyes. He doesn't get this whole "waiting" thing. His perspective on having an ornament to acknowledge "waiting" is that it's mournful, and hanging a reminder on the Christmas tree of what we don't have. So the idea of holding someone in our hearts while we wait only serves to make us sad about who's not here instead of celebrating and enjoying the people who are here with us now.

I kind of get it. Kind of. I didn't really have a response to him about it either. But here's why it's different for me. Being sad about who's not here (which I totally am) doesn't fall into the "adoption waiting" department. When I'm sad and mad about who's not here, when I get annoyed at the fact that EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE of my friends has kid(s) and that they get to send picture Christmas cards and buy Baby's First Christmas 2010 ornaments and write jackass messages on Facebook about how many diapers they've changed or when was the last time they slept (last Tuesday) or whatever, I don't blame adoption for that. Oh no, those complaints go straight to the source - infertility.

In my mind, infertility = bad, terrible, angry, sad, all those feelings that make me mournful for who's not in our house for this Christmas, last Christmas, any Christmas. I can be angry with our infertility. I am furious with our infertility. It has robbed us for the last 6 Christmases of the holidays we dreamed of. That's the infertility department. That's where all the hateful feelings go.

But adoption = hope. We Wait in Joyful Hope, remember. I am angry, furious, even hate infertility. But infertility is not the same as adoption. Sure, we're adopting because of infertility, but I come to adoption with an absolutely pure and hopeful heart. When I think of adoption, I don't think of that feeling of having been robbed for the 6 Christmases in the past. I think of the future, and all the Christmases we will have together. Someday.

You know how people can read the same thing and get a different meaning? "We will hold you in our hearts until we can hold you in our arms" doesn't emphasize empty arms to me. It emphasizes hope for the time when I will hold our baby in my arms. It's not empty arms, it's full heart. To me, that ornament says, "Hang on, Baby. We're coming. Someday we'll all be together."

On the other hand, I don't need an ornament to tell me that I have a heart that's full of hope for the future. "Hang on, Baby. We're coming. Someday we'll all be together." Well, that's what I say to myself every day, every breath. Every fiber of my being is waiting. This baby does not leave my thoughts. Hanging an ornament wouldn't change that.

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have gotten a "waiting family" adoption ornament anyway. As I said, it wasn't really ever my style. But I absolutely will be holding this baby in my heart until I'm holding him/her in my arms, no matter what I hang on my Christmas tree. And some Christmas, my arms will be as full as my heart.

Weird Weekend

Ok, we'll sum it up in 2 sentences.

Saturday, I went to a baby shower for a friend, where another friend told me that she is also pregnant. After the shower, I drove home where I checked Facebook, logged on and saw a pregnancy announcement from yet another friend.

Wha?!? A baby shower for a hugely pregnant friend, where another friend told me about her pregnancy only to go on Facebook and see someone else announce a pregnancy on the same exact day!?!

It's funny. Mister and I have been married a long time. 7 years now. When we were married for 2 years and none of our other friends had kids yet, it seemed like everyone was telling us to have a baby. That was also when we were TTC, so it seemed particularly painful to not be able to be pregnant and it felt like everyone noticed. Now, everyone has babies and kids and no one asks us anymore. I guess people just figure that if we were going to have kids, we'd have done it already.

When our very first friend got pregnant after only trying for a month, when we had been married for 2 years, I cried. I cried that year when any friends got pregnant, any teachers at my school, basically anyone that I knew (even remotely knew) got pregnant, I cried.

Honestly, I'm kinda over it now. Everyone else is (or already has been) pregnant. Whatever. It'll be my turn. Not to be pregnant, of course, but certainly to have a baby. I'm really not worried about it anymore in relation to "but everyone else already has a baby...." As I'm fond of saying to Mister, "If this was a race, we lost." We totally lost that race in 2005 when my first good friend told me she was pregnant. So it never was a race anyway, but if it was, we definitely lost. So whatever. I don't really cry or get upset at pregnancy announcements anymore. Apparently it is what happens to women in their late 20s, early 30s and mid 30s.

But sheesh, 2 announcements on the same day as a baby shower?! Now that's a bit much.

Actually, I've decided to do this as 2 separate parts because the other part is getting super long. Probably most people won't care what my other half of the weird weekend was, so I'll split it out, and if you care, you can keep reading. If you don't care, don't feel compelled to continue!

Social Stuff

Thanks for all the support on my Christmas wish! I just hope it comes true.

I have a quick adoption update and 2 social quandaries to discuss.

Adoption Update - I got an e-mail today from someone at the agency who said that our fingerprints have been received at the agency and that's one more thing we're no longer waiting for. Also, the profile books are scheduled to be delivered to the agency tomorrow. Now they're waiting for the final copy of our home study and a big old check from us. I guess I'll send the check tomorrow. And then, holy moly, I think we're officially waiting. Who knows how long we'll be waiting, but waiting is better than being almost ready to be waiting, no?

Weird Social Situation #1 - This is not a quandary as much as it is just weird, but here it is. I signed up to go to a book club that meets tomorrow night. I'm scared to death. I read the book, and I liked it, but I'm nervous to talk about it. But you know, we moved down here almost 4 years ago, and I have no friends here. I worked with a bunch of great people at my school 2 years ago, but I don't really see them or talk to them that much anymore. They're all busy working in the pressure cooker that is elementary school. I was great friends with them when I worked there, because we were all there 10-12 hours a day and they were really cool people. But now, they're at work 10-12 hours a day, and I'm home. So I figure it can't hurt to do something new that may expand my social circle. But I'm scared to death. But you know that saying? "Do one thing every day that scares you." Well, I know what mine is for tomorrow! Gulp. Mister keeps telling me that the worst thing that could happen is that I go and it's terrible. Then I won't go back next month. And who cares? It's just about trying something new and maybe meeting some new people. So that's my first weird social situation of the night.

Weird Social Situation #2 - This week on Facebook, I reconnected with someone that I haven't seen in probably 9 years. We used to work together, and I left that job 9 years ago, and I really don't think I've seen her since. As with probably any 9 year segment of anybody's life, a lot can happen in 9 years. 9 years ago, I was engaged, I was in grad school, I had a job, we lived in Massachusetts, we hadn't gone through any IF stuff, we definitely weren't home study ready for adoption (woo hoo! I just have to keep throwing that out there because it's so exciting...) So of course, she wrote on my wall tonight, "How are you? What are you up to now?"

I feel like I could go several ways with this. I'm generally a positive, happy person. I'm not a complainer. And most importantly, *NO ONE* in our lives (except for 2 very close friends and one brother) knows about our adoption plans. We are not "out" at all about our IF and adoption stuff. Obviously, we tell people that we don't have kids, but we tend to shut down the conversation there. I'm just not a sharer (funny to think of the cognitive dissonance that allows my non-sharing personality to write a blog.)

But in the last 9 years, I've gone through a lot of crap. A lot of great stuff, too, but it feels like the great stuff is less significant stuff. Except being married. That remains the most incredible thing I've ever done, and Mister remains the most incredible person I know.

So since I last talked to this lady, I finished grad school, got married, got the greatest dog, went through IF crap, moved to Connecticut, got a great job, lost a great job, still have no kids, took some awesome trips, and a bunch of other stuff.

But it's weird because I don't even really know how honest or open I want to be with her anyway. I haven't seen her in 9 years. And I liked her, I liked working with her; she was a lot of fun. But I haven't seen her or talked to her in 9 years. So beyond the "Oh, we're great, live in CT now, keeping busy" filler, maybe it won't even go further. If I ran into her in the mall somehow, that's probably all I'd give her. But because it's Facebook and it's the same space I share with some deep friendships and family, I'm tempted to be open and honest and tell her that it's been 9 years with ups and downs. I don't know. Facebook is weird, man.

How honest would you be with her if you were me?

Extended Family

I am the only girl in my family and I have 3 brothers. My mom was the oldest of 4 kids in her family, and they never really got along. My dad was one of 5 kids, and he always seemed to get along well with his brothers and sister. The cousins I grew up with are the cousins on my dad's side. As kids, we would get together several times a year. We were kind of in the middle of all the cousins - one group lived about an hour north of us and another group lived about an hour south.

As we were growing up, it was really important to my mom that my brothers and I would get along and love each other and enjoy being together. She wanted us to enjoy each other's companionship as kids, but also that it would carry over and that we'd enjoy each other as adults as well. Quite honestly, we really do. I love my brothers. I love my brother's wife. Happy, happy. I love my immediate family. (Are my brothers always my immediate family, or is immediate family only the people who live in your house? I never really knew the official designation on that one.)

So I have a bunch of cousins, all about my age. They're all late 20s-early 30s. I don't really know how to categorize how I feel about my cousins; it's kind of weird. When we were kids, we enjoyed playing together 3-4 times a year. Anyway, my cousins are fine. This is where it's kind of weird to describe the relationship I have with my cousins. They're fine. I don't dislike them, but I'm kind of neutral on them. Now, as adults, we've all sort of moved away to whatever different places we live. Maybe we see them once a year. So yeah, they're fine, I'm happy to see them when I see them, but we're not like the BFF cousins that some people are.

At any rate, of these cousins, only one is married. They were married 5 years ago. (See where this is going yet???) I can't really remember when I saw them last. Maybe 2 years ago. Anyway.

So I just got this e-mail from my dad. Forwarded from my cousin who sent a mass e-mail pregnancy announcement that his wife is pregnant. But he didn't have the e-mail addresses for the cousins, so could all the aunts and uncles please pass along the news. So my dad e-mailed all 4 of us. No comment, no note, just passed it along. (Now that I think about that, I wonder what my dad is thinking. The whole ripple effect of IF...)

I have 2 observations on this pregnancy announcement.

1) When people I dearly love get pregnant, I think it's the greatest news I've ever heard. When my closest friends have told me (even by e-mail) that they're pregnant, I am truly, genuinely thrilled for them. When people I'm kind of neutral on are pregnant, I'm not really sure how to react. It's happy news; I hope everything goes well for them. But that's pretty much as much brain space as I would like to give this. "Wow. Great, good for you! That's happy news and I hope everything goes well." And that's the extent of the brain space on this. But there's the gut-punch and the heart space. I'm pretty much a selfish jerk, but I WANT MY TURN!!!

2) My older brother is a much better, kinder person than I am. (Or a better faker.) He and his wife are also adopting. (This falls into the category of being truly, genuinely thrilled for other people. I already love my little niecephew (like that word I just made up?!)) so much. So they're walking this IF/adoption road. They get it. Which just makes our adoption that much more extraordinary. Upon receiving this e-mail from my dad, my brother replied back to all of us and said, "What awesome news for A&J! So exciting!"

That was not what I was thinking. Not the e-mail I would have sent, which is why I have not yet replied. My brother is a better person, or a better faker. Either way.

Am I a terrible person for not wanting to reply to this e-mail to congratulate my cousin on their functioning body parts? Am I a terrible person for not wanting to e-mail all my brothers right now to say that I'm thrilled that my cousins' bodies work? I mean, it is good. I'm glad for them that their bodies work. And, of course, I have no evidence of how well their bodies work. I've not asked them, nor will I. I have no idea what it took for them to achieve this pregnancy, so it's possible that they don't particularly feel like their bodies do work.

Meh. Who knows. I guess I'll send my cousin an e-mail congratulating them on their news. It is good news.

Someday I'll have good news too. I hate that that's my takeaway from everyone else's good news.

Party!!

Mister and I went to a party this weekend. That we were invited to a party is somewhat a rarity. I think I've said before, but we are really not the most social people ever. Not the most antisocial either, but we're probably close.

The friends we have tend to be people we've known for a long time. I love the friends we have, and it's nice to say that we've known most of our friends since high school and college. The problem with high school and college friends is that physically, we've gone our separate ways. Most of our friends live somewhere else, mostly in other states.

I've honestly had a hard time making friends as an adult. And I totally blame infertility. This is a hard thing for Mister to understand because it's just not the same for men, but here's the condensed version of how the conversations always go with me and other women near my age.

Her: Nice to meet you. Do you have any kids?

Me: (Count to 3, no physical reactions please, no making faces.....)

Me: No/Not yet/Maybe someday/We're working on it/Just the 20 I send home every day at 3 PM!/No, just the dog right now/We hope we will someday soon (Answer depends on my mood, the situation, the person asking, whether or not she seems to want a conversation or easy small talk)

Her: Oh. I have 3 kids.

Conversation ends here. Every time. I don't even know what to talk about with strangers. As soon as they hear that we don't have kids, I'm not worth their time.

So generally, I'm not really enthusiastic about going to a new place to meet a bunch of new people who will ask me all about my plans for having children but not actually care.

I wasn't going to go to this party. This friend is not really a close friend and she lives kind of far away. We used to work together, and I really enjoyed her at work. She was kind of weird, a little bit dorky, but she definitely got my sarcastic wiseguy kind of humor. Mister had met her a few times and wasn't really crazy about her or her husband. They were fine people to sit with at another colleague's party or wedding or whatever, but I don't think he felt like he wanted to seek them out as friends.

So when she invited us to her party, we both kind of waffled. It's kind of far to go, no one else from my old school would go, so I wouldn't know anyone but my friend and her husband, there are plenty of other things that I'd rather do on a summer Sunday. Well, we decided to go, figuring at least it was a nice day for a drive, we'd be together, and we could leave whenever we want.

And then I got there, and I remembered what it is that I love about this friend. She has a 3 year old daughter who is absolutely not the center of every thought and conversation. This is a lady who has a kid, and to the people with kids, she can talk about kids. But she certainly doesn't feel limited to kid conversation topics with people without kids. So she had some toys and stuff set up in the yard for people who brought their kids. My friend scheduled this party to coincide with her daughter's nap. Why? So she could have a party.

And then my friend shot to the top of my list.

When you go to parties, how do you talk to new people? What kinds of things do you ask them that takes the focus off "I have kids/I don't have kids, but I'd like to and my heart hurts about it constantly"? I feel like I have a fairly strong arsenal of stuff to talk about with guys, but with women it's so hard to find that common ground when their only activity/thought/conversation seems to revolve around small children. What is your common ground with fertile women? (Which totally makes them sound like aliens, I know. I don't mean to make it sound rude or mean, but I'm doing sociological research here!)

An assortment

So it's August, it's almost 90 degrees in Connecticut right now and I'm looking at catalogs of fall clothes.

It's weird, because I'm not a cool weather person at all. I hate snow, I hate cold, and therefore, I cannot think of a more miserable time than winter. I hate socks and shoes - I'd wear flip flops or be barefoot all year if it were possible. Connecticut's winters are too cold and wet for that, unfortunately.

But I have to tell you... there is just something satisfying about looking at a catalog of new sweaters and jeans. More than any type of clothes, I love to look at fall clothes.

So yeah, it's 90 degrees, I'm sweating, and I'm looking at jeans, boots and sweaters. As a teacher, September is like my New Year's. I guess I have all those memories of starting anew in new clothes. The weird thing is that since I lost my job and haven't found another one, I have nowhere to wear new clothes anyway. I think I might try to sub this year, so maybe I'll need some new clothes after all.

In other news, I'm on a Nutella kick these days. My goal for tonight is an ice cream sundae with Nutella sauce. I think it'll be good. What better way to celebrate 7 pounds of weight loss in 4 weeks than with ice cream, right? Not that I'm trying to sabotage my success or anything. But you know, everything in moderation.

Anyway, I need to rebound from the last week or so. Since we got home from Colorado last week, I've gotten two Facebook pregnancy announcements and a third friend had her baby. Dear God, what a week. Just when I think everyone who could possibly have a kid already has, another pregnant person appears somehow. And oddly, I have a drastically reduced, pared down social circle as a result. I have like 5 friends. How could 3 of them be pregnant at the same time?!!? Sheesh. So yeah, ice cream for dinner tonight. And just because everyone I know is pregnant and I'm not, I may have a glass or two of wine. So there!

Welcome ICLW!

A little bit of our story

We were married 7 years ago, in 2003. Way back when. We decided not to try for children right away, rather, we would enjoy a year or two of being together and building our marriage. About a year later, we decided it was time to start trying. Nothing happened, except crushing monthly grief. Month after month, I “knew” I was pregnant and so excited for 2 weeks. Month after month, I was wrong. I think each month the disappointment got worse. Mister told me that it would be OK, we’d try again and it would be OK. We kept trying, I was not pregnant and nothing was OK.

When we finally took ourselves to the doctor after the requisite “12 months of trying and no success” we were given the sad news that we would not be able to conceive. It just wasn’t going to happen for us. The doctors offered to keep testing us in future months, just to see if our bad condition would have improved. We declined.

A funny thing was happening at the same time. In late 2005 and early 2006, even though we had not officially been diagnosed as irreversibly infertile, I was googling the heck out of adoption terms. Even though I was still hoping that we’d be able to have biological children, I was also hoping that we would adopt from China. I started to follow some blogs of families with children adopted from China, and I started to read the Rumor Queen. OK, I kind of became obsessed with adopting from China.

I didn’t know how it would all play out in the future, but when the doctors told us there wasn’t anything they could do, I was pretty OK with that news. “OK, we’ll move on. Next thing, we’ll adopt from China when we’re both 30...” It was that easy. Of course, nothing’s ever that easy and I should have known it.

We weren’t ready to adopt right when we both were 30 and by the time we were 30, China had slowed to an almost halt of their adoption program. In fact, people who received their referrals from China this month sent their dossiers before I even turned 30. If we had submitted our dossiers the moment we were both 30, we’d still be waiting. And we’d still probably be waiting next year and the year after and the year after.

When we finally decided we were ready to adopt, it was just a few months ago. Now we’re 33, we haven’t sent a dossier to China (yet) and we’re instead planning to do a domestic infant adoption. We may still send a dossier to China for #2. Or not. Who knows. Right now, the goal is to finish the homestudy and the profile book for adoption #1 and from there we’ll see where we end up. I have no idea what we’ll do, but the adventure so far has been one heck of a ride, and we’re in it for the long haul.

What a long, strange trip it’s been. I’m sure it’ll only get stranger and longer, but here we are.