In-Adoption

I couldn't think of a good word for the inability to adopt, so I made up my own:

In-Adoption.* (Think In-Fertility.)

It's a topic I don't often write about here on my blog, because it is very painful.

But there have been a LOT (I mean, a TON) of posts lately about adoption in blogworld, so I thought I'd jump on the wagon.

First, it has been very difficult for me to understand why God has given me this cross on top of the cross of infertility. It is so painful for me to hear and read comments associated with adoption and home studies that take for granted the fact that there are people in the world (though sometimes I feel like the only one) who, through no fault of their own, cannot adopt. I could compare it to an infertile woman hearing people talk about their fertility.

For example, when we hear women say, "Every time my husband looks at me I get pregnant!" it reminds us just how infertile we are, standing on our heads after 5 straight days of intercourse, pre-seed in one hand, OPKs in the other. When another women talks about how they plan to avoid pregnancy with contraception for a specific amount of time, and then come off and BAM they're pregnant, it grates on our nerves to know that the privilege of being able to plan OUR families has been robbed of us. And when fertile people give you that bewildered look- you know that look- when they find out you have infertility, like it never occurred to them that there may be people who just cannot get pregnant, while here they are with 2 kids 10 months apart, 1 previous abortion, and an IUD in place they are PRAYING continues to work.

It is very similar for me in my current state of "in-adoption."

When I hear others discussing how "quickly" their adoption happened, how they "didn't even plan on adopting" and suddenly 428 calls are coming in of birthmothers dying to make an adoption plan with them, or how they are able to discuss plans for the next adoption, it strikes at my very core. And then there's the look- the look of fertiles and infertiles alike, who, upon hearing that I cannot become Home Study approved, know not what to say or do. It just never occurred to them that there are people who cannot adopt.

This doesn't make adoptive parents who make these comments or do these things bad people. Just like it doesn't make a woman blessed with fertility a bad person for saying or doing anything that could offend an infertile (unless, of course, it is done to intentionally cause harm).

But it does make it much more difficult for me to open up about my infertility when I also have in-adoption.

I noticed that I was VERY open with people I hadn't seen in years when we were about 6 months into the adoption process (right before the first "snafu.") At my High School Reunion last June, I told my entire table and my first boyfriend from 6th grade and his girlfriend that I was having trouble getting pregnant and that we were going to be adopting. I was just SO excited about it, and I wanted everyone to know what joy adoption was already bringing into my life.

Even with fellow infertiles and subfertiles, I was much more willing to open up and share about my struggles with infertility when I could close by saying, "But we have been called to adopt and feel that our infertility served (or will serve) a tremendous purpose in bringing us to our first child." Now I tend to not be so open anymore, because I dread the comments, the assumptions, and "the look." (The assumptions being that there must be some good reason why we've been denied, and we must not be good prospective parents. Or that we're dirt poor and have no pot to piss in... which is not an assumption any adoptive parent would have, but those not familiar with adoption assume it's ALWAYS about money.)

The thing is, these comments, assumptions, looks, and implications make me feel 100 times worse than anything I've ever felt about my infertility, because I know my infertility intimately. Let me explain- I fully comprehend the beauty, the purpose, the gift, and the meaning of my infertility. Through the years, it has grown even more beautiful, more purposeful, become an even greater gift and developed greater meaning than ever. Furthermore, I know my infertility is from God.

But I do NOT understand my in-adoption. I see no beauty in being called to the beautiful act of adoption and not being able to fulfill it. I see no purpose in my hands being tied as I watch others achieve their dreams of parenthood through adoption. I do not see in-adoption as a gift that is displaying itself in other ways in my life, or leading me to anything good. And I do not see the meaning in my being denied the ONLY other route to motherhood that is safe and legal (because I suppose I could always become a baby-burglar).

Finally, I do not view my in-adoption as being from God. Rather, it was an objective decision made by strangers who do not know me or my husband. (God's decision to give me the gift of infertility was FAR from objective. At least in my eyes.) And no matter who the strangers are (agency, lawyers, etc.) they would all add 2+2 to get 4, i.e. no matter HOW adoption were put on the table in front of us, OTHER PEOPLE would always come to the same conclusion: we are unfit parents.

There's no way around the fact that that HURTS. God giving me infertility is not Him telling me I am not a fit mother. It is not Him saving the world from any children I may raise, heaven-forbid.
But human beings giving me in-adoption is doing just that. It is telling me, and everyone around me, that I am an unfit mother. It is "saving the world" and all of the birthmothers from the danger of my parenthood.

But just because I cannot make sense of my in-adoption does not mean (I've decided) that I cannot make something of it.

For some reason God has allowed this additional suffering to come into my life at this time. It has lasted 11 months already. One thing I am sure about is that I was meant to suffer this cross at this time. Otherwise I would not have received such a CLEAR call to begin the adoption process when I did, and I would not have adoption placed so firmly on my heart. I would like to think that this cross, as heavy as it is, has been able to lift the burden for others. I've always felt that the suffering involved with infertility has redemptive qualities, so why not the suffering of in-adoption? Why can't I offer up my inability to adopt right now for those birthmothers struggling with whether to make an adoption plan or to abort? Or for other infertile couples hoping to adopt? Or even for those suffering from crosses they, too, do not understand (a child dying from leukemia, a man called to the priesthood but unable to fulfill that call).

Please note: I do not mean to put those two examples side-by-side to imply that those two circumstances are as BAD as the other. Rather, they are examples of situations that don't seem to make any sense no matter how hard you try to make sense of them.

Our counselor, whom we've seen for two sessions already, has recommended that I pray daily and fervently to God to remove any suffering that is NOT redemptive from my life IMMEDIATELY. And what suffering He allows to remain, for it to be as redemptive as possible. I have been praying this for weeks now. I have to believe the suffering that remains is doing some good. Maybe a lot of good.

* For this blog post, the term "in-adoption" shall refer to the inability to adopt OR foster. "In-foster" just didn't sound as good.

17th

On May 17th, two months to the day of the death of our incredible dog, Uzi, my dear friend from college suddenly passed away.

She had a series of strokes. She was 28.

While I wasn't in constant contact with her since college, she was one of my closer friends while we were in school, because she was in my all-female a cappella group (which was basically my life). She was SO full of life, and so confident, talented, beautiful, and strong. It makes absolutely no sense to me why she's gone.

Since I got the news, I've been mourning her loss and celebrating her life with all of the other a cappella group alumnae. But I've had mixed feelings about what I am to learn from this in my own life.

My friend was such a unique soul- always upbeat, could cheer anyone up, and loved to enjoy life (and had an amazing ability to get everyone around her to enjoy themselves, too). I feel that she did embrace life and live it to its fullest- but she had not yet been engaged, married, or had children. I grieve for her parents, who only had 1 daughter and 1 son - her father will never get to walk his daughter down the aisle. They will never get to see their daughter's face in the face of their grandbaby.

I realize there is more to life than these things. I also realize that not everyone has the same goals in life. But I keep thinking of the prayer I would pray to God almost nightly when I was a little girl: "Please, God, let me have a baby before I die." Would I feel, as I hope my friend did, that I had lived a full and fruitful life if my time is up before I am a mother? I'm not so sure.

At least, I didn't used to think so. But as I reflect on my friend's life (especially her young adult life with which I was most familiar), I see just how fulfilling and joy-filled it was. Never a moment wasted. Never an opportunity passed over. Everything she touched became more lively and more fun.

And I wonder... can I learn from her example? Can I start living every day for that day, and not invest so much energy in what will or will not happen tomorrow?

I am going to try.

Please say a prayer for her family if you will.

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

I've been thinking a lot about the feeling of abandonment, and wondering why God would ask me to go through such a difficult time at this point of my journey. Why is this feeling of isolation, of being left all alone, a part of my cross? Isn't the normal everyday suffering of infertility enough?

And then I remembered the Gospel of Mark.

Mark is my favorite Gospel. When I was a junior in college, I took my first Religion class, entitled "Bible as Literature." I was prepared to fill out a yellow index card and drop the class before the first day, I was that convinced it would be Christian-bashing blasphemy. (I went to a VERY liberal New England college.) But I was so drawn to the name of the class- two of my very favorite subjects, Christianity and literature, tied into one. So I took a chance. And I'm so glad I did.

The course was taught by probably the only practicing Episcopalian professor on campus. He was not only a devout Christian himself, but he was also a brilliant professor, with a TON of knowledge on both the Old and New Testaments. After taking the class, I decided to pick up a Minor in Religion, and went on to do an Independent Study thesis with this professor in my final semester.

My thesis was a study of the WHY behind Jesus' crucifixion, suffering, and death. I drew upon several of the Old Testament books, but mostly concentrated on 4 areas of the New Testament: the letters of Paul, the gospels of John and Mark (SO TOTALLY DIFFERENT!!), and Hebrews. Have I mentioned that Hebrews, aside from the Gospel of Mark, is my FAVORITE book of the Bible?? If you have not read it, or haven't read it in a while, I urge you to read it tonight! It's so profound, yet so simplistic in language... it's like "The Dummies' Guide to Catholicism."

Back to Mark.

In studying Mark, both in the "Bible as Literature" course and for my thesis, I learned that there are many discrepancies between his gospel and the other 3. Discrepancies in language, discrepancies in settings, discrepancies in events. They are all VERY PURPOSEFUL. Mark's literary style is brief and to the point- he is definitely not one to elaborate with fluffy language or overexplain anything. Mark is a Gospel you need to read between the lines, unlike John. (My professor used to joke that John has a lot of "Jesus soliloquies," where Jesus would start out answering someone's question, and by the end of the chapter, you forget that anyone else is in the room! It's true! But I do love John, he's my 2nd favorite Gospel.)

One of the discrepancies in Mark's gospel is that NONE of Jesus' disciples are present at His crucifixion. None. He is left to die alone, without any of His friends. (The women were "looking on from a distance.") The only people close to Him as He was on the cross, dying, were the chief priests, the scribes, and the soldiers, all of whom mocked Him endlessly until His final breath. The revolutionaries crucified with Him "also kept abusing him."

This complete and total abandonment was a PART of Jesus' Passion. In fact, one can argue that it was a critical part, being so near to His death.

One of the major literary purposes for Jesus being left alone to die on the cross in Mark's gospel is so that when He cries out, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?" (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?) it makes sense. In invoking Psalm 22 at this time of His Passion, Jesus is not only making it abundantly clear that everything that has happened and everything that is happening is a fulfillment of scripture... He is also personally experiencing the feelings of abandonment and isolation that the writer of Psalm 22 is portraying. We all know and remember that one of those lines that is fulfilled is "they divide my garments among them; for my clothing they cast lots." But before that line are these lines: "scorned by everyone, despised by people," "All who see me mock me; they curl their lips and jeer; they shake their heads at me," "Many dogs surround me; a pack of evildoers closes in on me."

The Psalm opens with that sense of abandonment and confusion (why would God do this?)... but it ends with a proclamation of the goodness of God, praising His name now and forever more, trusting in His deliverance.

Mark's Jesus is showing that despite appearances, He is NOT alone, forsaken and abandoned by all, including His Father.

But even Mark's Jesus had to FEEL abandoned, FEEL alone, FEEL isolated.

It was a perfectly complete suffering that He took upon Himself. He had no comfort in the strength and support of loved ones close by. He had no comfort in knowing that anyone around Him knew just who He was (the centurion didn't figure it out until He had died). In His final minutes before death, Jesus endured an emotional suffering that may have surpassed the physical torture of His Passion.

And here again is another parallel between the cross that I embrace in my life, and Jesus' cross.

Here I am, feeling that everyone around me, particularly those I've relied on for support and strength for the past 2 years, has left me to suffer this cross alone.
I know that many of you still waiting for your blessing feel exactly the same way.

And so I hope that my analysis of the situation helps all of you, too.

I will go out on a limb and say that this part of our cross may very well be a foreshadowing of our Resurrection. After all, it was only hours before His death that Jesus was left alone. Could this mean that this is the final part of our cross, too?

No matter how much longer we are asked to carry our cross, we should view this time of isolation and abandonment as Jesus did in order to suffer completely and perfectly the way He showed us. Let us remember the way Psalm 22 flips on its head halfway through, to reveal the greatness (and nearness) of God, even when He seems furthest away:

"For God has not spurned or disdained
the misery of this poor wretch,
Did not turn away from me,
but heard me when I cried out."

Solidarity

I've finally figured out why these past several months have been particularly difficult for me.

I've lost the solidarity I've often relied upon through the blogs.

I was having an email conversation with another blogger who is still waiting for her miracle, and the thing we both have identified as a major problem for us right now is how very PERSONAL God seems to be making our current struggle. Where we once found consolation and strength in numbers here in blogosphere, now it has become increasingly more and more isolating as we realize we really are the ONLY ones in our exact situations (though still very different from each other's).

As horrible as infertility felt on its worst days, I knew that I had a beautiful, strong sisterhood here that I could always turn to for support, advice, and most importantly, solidarity. When my own infertility didn't make sense, I would see in these women how they turned their crosses into something monumental. It fueled me to continue, and it inspired me to not give up.

But now, even though there are still several women left who have not yet received the answers to their prayers, I am feeling less and less of that solidarity. These very same women that I once felt bonded to in a common cross, now I look upon and only see the "differences" in our journeys.

Here are some examples of how the Devil gets into my head whenever I think of someone still struggling with their cross:

"At least she is Home Study approved."

"Well, she can get a call any day to go and pick up a baby. I can't."

"She's only x months past surgery. I'm over 2 years past surgery."

"She's only been seeing a NaPro Dr for a year. I've been seeing one for almost 4 years."

"She's not even seeing a real NaPro Dr."

"She may have never conceived YET, but she doesn't have the clotting issues and immune diagnoses that I have, which make it scientifically and medically IMPOSSIBLE for me to implant without anticoagulants and steroids."

"She can still get a miracle pregnancy. I never will (for the above reasons)."

I guess it is an important first step recognizing that these thoughts in my head are not from God. Quite the contrary.

Yet it still makes me feel like God has molded things in my life a certain way so that I literally CANNOT relate to anyone anymore. Hence the feeling of abandonment and isolation.

I'm sure at one point or another, everyone has felt this way. We've all had moments when looking at someone else's miracle did NOT give us hope, and may have even caused additional despair, because all we saw were the differences, not the similarities.

I have taken an important first step to spiritual healing. I've contacted a licensed therapist recommended to me by FJIEJ, and me and my hubby will be doing some therapy sessions with her. She herself struggled with infertility for 7 years, and now struggles with secondary infertility.

While we go through these sessions, I am focusing on giving my body a break over the next couple of months. I will be taking herbs and doing more acupuncture (just came from 1 session), and the only daily medications I'll take are Metformin and Naltrexone. I'll also take my prenatal, baby aspirin, Omega 3s, Alpha Lipoic Acid, and Bee Propolis. (I know this sounds like a lot to take while on a break, but trust me, this isn't even 1/4 of what I normally take every day. Also, some of my diagnoses require that I take these things for life, not just while TTC.)
My NaPro Dr recommended that when I'm on a "break" I still take prometrium in the post-Peak phase. I'm not sure if I will or not. Though, it does help me sleep well. We'll see.

I know the majority of you urged me to go forward with another treatment cycle, and I was seriously thisclose to just doing it. But a big deciding factor for me was the therapy sessions. That, for me, will seem like "treatment," and an important part of my treatment at that. I can't feel like I'm doing nothing proactive (not with adoption completely off the table), so the therapy will help me to feel like I'm doing SOMETHING.

I am still searching, seeking, craving joy. I must sound like a broken record, but I want to have a LASTING joy in my life that makes me want to sing God's praises daily, whether or NOT I become a mother.

Sure, the greatest miracle that could happen in my life right now would be God moving one of the GIGANTIC mountains preventing me from becoming pregnant, adopting, or fostering. It would be a miracle SO VERY HUGE that I wouldn't be able to stop singing the glory of God if I tried, for years and years and years to come.

But my goal is to reach that point BEFORE and/or WITHOUT that tangible miracle.

Because, perhaps the miracle will not be my becoming a mother. Perhaps it will be a joy-filled heart, every moment of every day.

Clarifications and Random Stuff

Well, my repeat lap on June 18th will be a basic laser-laparoscopy with removal of (if any is found) minor endometriosis. Back in April '08 I had a laparoscopy AND laparotomy for the ovarian wedge resection, so my recovery at that time was 4-6 weeks long. This time, I'm sure it will be the normal 3-5 day recovery. I'm actually planning on going to Cancun the next week. Last time my endo was Stage I-II. I'm not expecting there to be much.

I'm feeling really down in the dumps lately. I am wondering why I would so clearly hear words from heaven telling me my Easter was coming soon, when it is still nowhere in sight. I'm wondering why SOOOO many (seriously, almost everyone) of the Infertile and Subfertile Bloggers have received their blessings through pregnancy and/or adoption in the past 4 months, and I'm still childless. It is extremely difficult, I mean EX-TREMEly, to watch all of those who used to be in my circle being blessed abundantly.

It makes me feel even more abandoned by God when my fellow Catholic infertiles are becoming mothers. It's hard to explain, but when the "normal" fertile people are blessed with children, I can easily look past that and see the beauty of my cross. My infertility has a purpose, and I am trying my best to fulfill that purpose. Fertile pregnancies hardly bother me. When other infertiles get pregnant through IVF, I feel left out, but not abandoned. I still know that I am learning obedience through this very special cross of Catholic infertility.
But when my fellow Catholic infertiles become mothers, all 1 after another, it makes me question why I am still being asked to carry my cross. Their infertility also served a purpose, and now they are able to enjoy the beauty of the blessings that came from their cross. So why not me?

(I would feel so much better about all of this if I were on a waiting list for adoption, or able to foster now. But my pain is magnified due to my adoption-hysterectomy.)

I do understand that none of us are "worthy" to receive God's awesome blessings. I get it. I also understand that God's timing in others' lives has nothing to do with His timing in mine. But again, it's SO MUCH HARDER to cope with the feelings of abandonment when I look around and... everyone else's timing is identical!

I really think the only thing keeping me sane through this is the power of prayer. I received a beautiful email from "E," a friend of mine becoming a FertilityCare Practitioner in Mexico City, and her prayer group has adopted me in their prayers this month to Our Lady of Guadalupe. What a sense of peace this brings me!! E, you are the best!

I cannot even escape reality in my dreams. How I would love to, if only for 20 minutes of R.E.M sleep, believe I was a mother. I've never even dreamed of a positive pregnancy test. And last night? I dreamt that I was reading an ultrasound report from Dr Kwak's office... the dream made absolutely no medical sense, but in the dream I was just about to start my period and believed I had failed another cycle (just like reality last night). Then this ultrasound report came (which is funny, because I had never had an ultrasound there!) which said that I HAD conceived, and that there were TWO babies in my uterus, but that 1 had stopped growing at 6 weeks and the other one at 9 weeks. I was due to miscarry them at any moment, and what I *thought* was my period coming was actually a miscarriage. (I know, this is all sorts of erroneous... but just goes to show ya, I can't even have a happy ending in my dreams.)

Finally, last night I was telling DH how I won the 2nd Grade Spelling Bee. It suddenly dawned on me, the irony of the word that put me on top. For 2nd Grade, it was not a difficult word at all, and I remember even back then thinking, "Aww, I can't believe it wasn't a tougher one!" But my competitor put two p's in the word, leaving me to spell it correctly:

H-O-P-I-N-G.

That's right.

I won the 2nd Grade Spelling Bee with the word "Hoping."

Coincidence?

Or perhaps a premonition of the word that would continue to get me through the remainder of life's tests...

Here's hoping.

What to Do, What to Do

I have a laparoscopy set for June 18th (Friday) with Dr. Steg.man.

So, that cycle I will be taking a break from all the meds.

But that still leaves this cycle... which is about to start any moment. Dr Kwak-Kim wants to have a phone consultation to re-evaluate and see what else we can tweak at this point, but her first available one wasn't until May 25th. Most of her protocol changes have been for right around ovulation or the luteal phase, anyway, so it wouldn't necessarily be worthless to start up another intense treatment cycle now.

I just don't know what to do.

My mind and body crave a break. My heart and soul are bleeding out, begging me to keep trying.

Yesterday was one of the hardest days for me, infertility-wise.

I am Just. So. Tired. of it all. It would be so much easier to take a break if I were on a waiting list for adoption, or working on an adoption home study, or taking foster care classes... but to sit out and KNOW FOR A FACT that no miraculous situation is going to fall into my lap? It's just too hard. My heart won't stand for it.

How much longer can I keep this up? With the exception of the egg retrieval and embryo transfer, I have done the equivalent of 3 IVF cycles this year already - with full immune protocols.

I've reached the conclusion that it is going to take a FULL-BLOWN miracle for me to become a mother. It's not going to be about timing, medication dosage, or anything else. And it's not that I don't believe miracles can happen - surely there have been enough of them around here lately to prove otherwise.

But I have a hard time believing that I am worthy of one. Especially when I look around and blessings are being doled out by the handful, and all I ever seem to get is more suffering.

Why would God give me a miracle? Who am I?? Nobody.

How I long to stand up tall and proud and proclaim to the world that I Am A Mother. How it would soothe and comfort my soul to know that one day on this earth OR in heaven, a child will call me "Mommy." No matter how many people I may be a "spiritual" mother for, none of them will ever call me mommy, and let's face it, spiritual motherhood is not what any of us crave. Don't get me wrong, I was honored to have been wished a Happy Mother's Day by so many of you yesterday, because I do know I am already a mother in my heart. I just wonder if I'll ever be anything but a mother in my heart.

Sad Day

2 pregnancy announcements in a row this week on the blogs were followed by 2 miscarriages at work today.

Both were unexpected - one woman had her son with her and wasn't even coming for a pregnancy scan. She was there for a gallbladder study, and asked if we could "sneak a peak" at the baby, which was supposed to be 11.5 weeks.
The quick peek turned into the delivery of the news that her baby was only measuring 9 weeks and had no heartbeat. Very sad.
Then this afternoon a 39 year old woman came in for her first ultrasound with her first pregnancy. She was supposed to be 8 weeks, and had very regular cycles. The baby measured 6 weeks 2 days, and again, no heartbeat.

As if this weren't depressing enough, my husband finally worked up the nerve to go pick up Uzi's (our dog who passed away 3/17) ashes. He brought Cooper, the new puppy, with him. Uzi is now back in our home, in a nice box with a beautiful keepsake clay paw-print with his name on it. It almost looks like something he "made" at school for Mother's Day. It's both endearing and excruciating all at once.

We miss him so badly. It still hurts.

The good news is, we are looking forward to going to Cancun again at the end of June. It is not a definite that DH will be able to go, but come hell or high-water I AM!! It will be so nice to get away, and most importantly, it will be a celebration of the year we have just survived.

Last year, as you may remember, the shit ALLLLLLL hit the fan right upon our return from Cancun. And after that, something absolutely horrible happened just about every month. To go back to Cancun will be like a GIGANTIC breath of fresh air- it has felt like we've been holding our breath this past year just waiting for the next bad thing to occur. What a horrible way to live. Wow, really, it just sunk in, we have been through SO MUCH in 1 year, and infertility was the least of it!

How I survived it, I do not know. Well... I guess I have another month and 1/2 to go, maybe I shouldn't speak so soon.

June '09 - May '10 will go down in history as the worst year ever.

Here's a technique I learned in HypnoFertility to "purge" the bad thoughts. I will now re-hash the year so that we can all visually purge it together, never to look at again!
Here we go:

2 days after return from Cancun- June '09: Find out our 3rd Home Study visit has been cancelled and that our case needs to be reviewed after a mandatory 6 month break.

July '09: SIL seriously considers adopting a "Wiccan" girl's baby, and not only tells DH all about it, but asks him for advice on how to adopt.

August '09: Upon returning from the Barren Wives' Weekend, find out SIL is not-so-much-accidentally pregnant. The remainder of the month is consumed in everyone talking about her out-of-wedlock pregnancy, and subsequent miscarriage (blighted ovum), and asking me for advice about it all.

September '09: Plans to move forward with purchasing the property for our house fail. Plans to expedite the Home Study fail. Forced break after first visit with Dr Kwak-Kim, due to high T3 levels.

October '09: First cycle of Reproductive Immunology treatment fails. NK Cells and cytokines fluctuate.

November '09: Start taking prednisone for NK Cells and cytokines, and get a case of shingles. (No, I wish I were kidding... it's starting to get comical, right? Just wait...)

December '09: Advent and Christmas as a barren whore. Need I say more? Possible endometrioma seen on right ovary.

January '10: After a 6 month hiatus, we re-evaluate our Home Study progress with the Social Worker and the agency Director, Jan 11th. Something else simultaneously happens to ensure we can not proceed. Jan 26th, DH is arrested on a bogus charge, which gives him a criminal record and means that we cannot adopt, possible ever (definately not for several years). Oh yes, and to top everything off, I hyperstimulate on Follistim and develop 8 ovarian cysts with threatened ovarian torsion.

February '10: Look into Foster Care, and discover we can pursue that, but only after the court date has determined where we stand with everything... and that court date has still not been set to this day.

March '10: Just as the shock of the past couple months starts to dissipate, our amazing 9 year old dog Uzi is put to sleep completely suddenly, and without us getting to say goodbye.

April '10: Meltdown. Can you blame me? Efforts continue to fail on the house/property front. (And April '09 I had made it a point to be OUT of this apartment attached to my in-laws by this April.)

May '10: Literally as I'm typing this, DH informs me that his lawyer told him to not pursue any fostering/adoption until the criminal record is expunged. That will be 1.5 years AFTER he is given the pre-trial intervention (PTI). That is, if he gets it. And only God knows if or when that will happen...

So, yeah, June in Cancun will be a much-needed break from the reality of my life this past year.

Hope May Be the Answer

I have read all of your comments multiple times, and it seems that while we all still struggle with a) how to define joy, and b) how to attain it, a commonly-held belief is that joy is an "underlying" state of being and a gift from above. But that without hope and faith, (and probably love), we won't have it.

I think this just may be the answer I've been looking for.

Today, I experienced pure, unadulterated JOY for the first time in a long time. Praise God, and I will sing it out loud to anyone who listens, because SEW INFERTILE is WITH CHILD!!!

I have seen so many miracles on these blogs recently, and yet have been resistant to believe that I, too, can be a recipient of one of them. Something about Sew's miracle has my hope going through the roof today. And with that hope, came joy. Joy for my dear friend, joy VOID of jealousy (a rarity for me these days!), and joy for my own life and the blessings I have so often failed to see that I already have.

Hope is not the enemy, though I once thought it to be. I believe we need to look at hope in a much more general way in order to NOT turn it into the enemy. For example, do not place all hope in tiny little circumstances, but in the larger picture. I had been hoping that each cycle I would 1) ovulate more than one egg, 2) have wonderful cervical mucus, 3) time relations on the best days, and of course 4) that I was pregnant. I had also been hoping that, during our adoption process 1) our Social Worker would review our documents quickly, 2) we would get our references in, 3) our home visit would be scheduled before the end of summer, etc.

And what was slowly but surely happening was, my hope in all of these things that were OUT OF MY CONTROL just further reinforced the fact that I had lost control of the plan for my life. I felt like a failure, time and time again, and for someone who never suffered from depression, never took anti-depressants, and always had great self-confidence and self-esteem, I felt like a completely different person that even I didn't recognize anymore.

But now I am beginning to see the light that hope has to offer, if you place hope in the right places. I have hope that God will provide, above all else. He will provide. I have hope that I will be a mother. Maybe not the kind of mother I had imagined, but I will be a mother nonetheless. Perhaps I will be so blessed as to someday conceive, or be able to adopt, or be able to foster. But I am not putting any more "conditions" on my hope. And when hope is boundless, joy abounds!

It truly feels freeing to look at hope in my life in this newfound way. Oh, I'm sure I'll have plenty more "depressing" posts in the future for your reading enjoyment, but I will not let hope out the window because that only means I'm throwing my key to joy along with it.

How to Find Joy

No, this is not a tutorial, though I wish it were!

Rather, it is a question. One that I have been pondering for more than a year now. A loaded question which can apply to many different situations in life, not just infertility and/or inability to adopt.

I having been struggling for quite a while with how to find joy. Not just here-and-there joy, but general joy, the kind that makes you want to dance around singing God's praises every minute of the day.

It's not that I don't sing God's praises now. It's more a matter of I don't feel like I have a personal reason to sing his praises every minute of every day. And that is truly. sad. Is His dying on the cross for me not enough reason? Is His generous gifts of a loving family, husband, place to live, income, wonderful pets, and food on my plate not enough reason?

I remember having a feeling last year in the presence of the Holy Sacrament after Holy Thursday Mass... a strong feeling of, "Jesus, YOU ARE enough for me." I still have that feeling, and I know logically that He is enough for me. But I still do not feel JOYful.

I am trying to wrap my mind around this (apparent) inability I have to find joy, and find the reason behind it. Does God intend for me to NOT have complete and utter joy now, so that WHEN I have something absolutely wonderful to rejoice about, I will rejoice all the more?? It just seems so contrary to me. The fact that I would only rejoice in God's awesomeness when my desires have been fulfilled. Doesn't it??

I'm not trying to be argumentative in the least, here. I really just seek understanding. I mean, I guess to a certain extent it could be true that a part of God's plan is for me to NOT have any joy for a period of time in my life, so that I can feel it all the more when it does come.

But I honestly would rather have that joy in my heart at all times for a number of reasons.

First, I would feel hypocritical singing God's praises daily only after He has given me what I want. (And like I said, this is a very broad idea here, I am talking about day-to-day happenings as well, like getting a job offer or being able to go on a vacation, etc.)

Second, it is a form of self-preservation. I think an underlying and ongoing fear of mine is that my ultimate goal and desire for my life may possibly never be fulfilled. The desire to be a mother, and the goal of achieving motherhood before I leave this earth. If I am somehow able to find joy before and/or without motherhood, then I know I will be "ok" for the remainder of my life.

Third, I want to be a better disciple of Christ. Did the martyrs and saints only proclaim God's goodness when things were going their way?? Hardly. It was quite often just the opposite! Here they were being persecuted, and put through trials far worse than anything I could imagine, and still they adored Christ in both word and deed.

Now, I'm not saying that I do not adore my God. But I'm also not yet at the point where I can sit in church behind a family of 7, kneeling before the Sacrament, and sing aloud in my head, "Oh God, you are so good to me!!" I still have a lot of resentment that I NEED to work on in this area. I have claimed to view my infertility as a gift from God... so what, was I BSing??? No. I still view it as a gift. Shouldn't I thank God for this gift, then? Continually?? Now that's where it gets sticky.

My infertility is most certainly a gift, a gift I am SURE I would not return if given the chance. (I know that sounds like a bare-faced lie.) But it's more because of WHO the gift comes than the gift itself which makes me want to cling to and "embrace" it. It's like an absolutely hideous sweater, wool with big hot pink pom-poms all over it, that your grandmother made for you right before she passed away. Do I love the sweater? Heck no! Would I ever throw it away? Never. But I'm also torn about wanting to wear it, especially in public. Sometimes I downright resent having to wear it at all, but then I feel guilty about resenting something given to me out of pure love. I should be proud to wear it, shouldn't I?

I am so very torn about this joy thing. I'm sorry but there is no resolution to this post. I am very interested to hear your thoughts on this, so please share them!! Lurkers too!!