3 Years Later! A Better Place....

It's been 3 years since I have flown over the rainbow where bluebirds sing...

I cannot tell you how aware I am that I could be in a different place...but I do know that I am here and it truly is a better place!

Better Place (by Rachel Platten)

I'll tell the world, I'll sing a song
It's a better place since you came along
Since you came along
Your touch is sunlight through the trees
Your kisses are the ocean breeze
Everything's alright when you're with me
And I hold my favorite thing
I hold the love that you bring
But it feels like I've opened my eyes again
And the colors are golden and bright again
There's a song in my heart, I feel like I belong
It's a better place since you came along
It's a better place since you came along
I see the whole world in your eyes
It's like I've known you all my life
We just feel so right
So I pour my heart into your hands
It's like you really understand
You love the way I am
And I hold my favorite thing
I hold the happiness you bring
But it feels like I've opened my eyes again
And the colors are golden and bright again
And the sun paints the skies and the wind sings our song
It's a better place since you came along
It's a better place since you came along
Now I'm alright
Now I'm alright
Everything's alright
'Cause it feels like I've opened my eyes again
And the colors are golden and bright again
There's a song in my heart, I feel like I belong
It's a better place since you came along
It's a better place since you came along

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

...way up high
There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby...

From the moment I stopped waiting and wishing for my dreams of motherhood to come true, to the moment that I decided that I would take motherhood into my own hands, I have felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

Everything that transpired happened as if I hit my head and I had to navigate this uncertain, scary, mystical terrain with a cast of characters that wouldn't let me reach my goal and a cast of allies that all seemed to reach their goal as I was destined to be stuck in Oz forever, all alone.

I met and made amazing friends, but they had their wishes granted by the great and powerful  Oz.

I sat alone.

I was alone on the other side of the Rainbow. The side where dreams don't come true. The terrifying, dark and lonely side.

I spent 5 years there...and if I was honest, even longer...I was on the dark side of the Rainbow when I was dreaming of meeting "the one" and building a family. And it ended up only getting darker and scarier as I headed out down the yellow brick road alone.

I fought the evil witch and her flying monkeys, Dr. Doom and his partner Dr. Darth Vader.  I met with great and powerful  Oz (Dr. Period) who somehow could work his magic for others, but for me a successful pregnancy was somewhere over the rainbow.

And so were my dreams of motherhood.

If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?

For most it's really out of our hands. Yes, you can claw and scratch and fight your way to the top of the rainbow BUT whether or not you get to fly to the other side...it's out of our hands...it was out of my hands...no matter how many cycles I did, I couldn't get over the rainbow.

It wasn't my decision that put me over. It was the decision of another.

It was the heart wrenching decision of another mother. One who was searching for her own yellow brick road.

One who saw me and said "No one could love her more. She is her forever mommy."

And with that thought the winds changed, the birds took flight and without me knowing my journey over the rainbow began.

Unknowingly as went about my day, this day 3 years ago, unknowingly I was starting to fly...like a happy little bluebird...

And the dreams that you dare to dream,
Really do come true. 

When someone else makes your dreams come true in a way so profound you know for a fact that there are angels here on earth, making it to the other side of the rainbow becomes the happiest and saddest moments of your life.

I don't know if I'll ever know what it feels like to be that angel to another person. To pull them from the dark side of the rainbow and show them how to fly where happy little bluebirds fly...at the expense of my own rainbow.

But I know my daughter's birthmother did that for me...(why oh why can't I..)

She went to the dark side of the rainbow and allowed me to go to the other side...the side where bluebirds fly.

And it all started with a call...3 years ago today...a call...that put me over the rainbow (and it is more beautiful than I ever imagined...) and that same call...put my wizard someplace else...

"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone"
~ Rose Kennedy

With a little help from my friends...

I think the hardest part for me, going through infertility and my struggles to become a mom was doing it alone. Every decision, every appointment, every needle, disappointment and loss I endured by myself. 

I remember sitting in the doctor's office, with my legs dangling off the table and a quite ultrasound machine in front of me. "Take all the time you need." the nurse stated as she walked out the door. I just sat there alone. Utterly alone...

We all need help sometimes. And when that help comes it is the lifeline you've been praying for. 

I was blessed to have the support of my family and friends...but even still I could have used a little bit more.

So I am here trying to help a friend. One baring her soul and doing whatever it takes to achieve her dream of being a mom. It's not an easy road and it is a lonely one. I know! So if you can help that would be amazing...this is my friend Kristina's story!

Help Kristina reach her dream of motherhood

Hello! I want to thank Michaela for generously sharing her blog space today so that I can share my campaign to finally reach my dream of motherhood. Thank you, Michaela! Before I tell you about the campaign, I’d like to share the story about how I came to believe this path was right for me…

I always saw motherhood as part of my life and who I was meant to be. I dated a lot in my 20s and into my 30s, but most relationships ended after a few months. I’m one of those women who decided when I was in my mid 30s that it was time to stop looking at every guy I dated as a potential father and co-parent. I had lived with two men and I think marriage was possible with a couple (different ones than those I lived with, oddly!), but I wasn’t mature enough at the time. Later, it just seemed like I had trouble meeting guys that I really clicked with – mentally, emotionally, and physically. During this time, around the age of 34, I did become pregnant with a boyfriend but it wasn’t viable and I had to induce a miscarriage.

When I got to my mid-30s, something else started clicking, or I should say ticking. I don’t remember when I first heard the term “SMC” or Single Mother by Choice, but once I knew about this brave and exciting new possibility, I read everything I could about it, from books to blogs and articles. I also researched fertility and how to track my cycle, which I began doing religiously. I met with the only Reproductive Endocrinologist in the Central California where I was living, but something happened – I'm not remembering what now – that really turned me off to him; something to do with missed timing, waiting a cycle, and money. I do remember he was a horrible listener and would launch into spiels of technical jargon, expecting me to follow along. When I look back now, I probably should have toughed it out with him. Maybe he would have discovered that I had fibroids or maybe he would have used better technology and medication when it would have mattered.

As it was, I switched to a very kind doctor, who held more of a holistic point of view and worked with a group of midwives. It was very woman-positive, which felt great, but in retrospect, I don’t think he had the required skill level. I did four IUIs with him, two with Femara, with no luck. Then, life through a curve ball and the non-profit where I worked closed doors. After looking for several months, I found a job and moved to the Bay Area.

Once I was settled, I began trying again…this time I used injectables, and discovered an underground black market of fertility medications that were being passed along at highly reduced prices by other sympathetic women who had achieved success. I remember thinking superstitiously that maybe using their medication would bring me success, too. No luck though.

I also started dating again and ended up meeting someone special with whom I became serious. Once committed, we immediately agreed that we were open to pregnancy. That was a fun few months. I really thought that something started a couple of times – in fact, I’m pretty sure it did. I had implantation cramping, spotting a couple of times, continued cramping like something was definitely happening…but then it would end in disappointment. After a year or so, we broke up and not long after, I tried another IUI on my own with a different doctor, injectables, and a different protocol. I was crushed again when it didn’t work.

Fast-forward to a few months later, the guy and I reunited and this time we decided to try IUIs together. We did two of them. It was during this time that the doctor said I had two large fibroids and one was twisting my cervix, making it like an obstacle course for sperm. Awesome! One was inside and one was just outside my uterus. He thought I could still get pregnant but that the pregnancy could become really uncomfortable/painful later on. I ended up deciding to get them surgically removed. Shortly before this scheduled surgery, the guy and I broke up again… aargh

The silver lining was that I had joined a leadership development program that lasted six months and supported me through this tough time. It also provided a safe container to really explore and look at my emotions and motivations to become pregnant. I stepped back from trying and just focused on my self and my friendships and community. I did some healing around a first pregnancy loss from my 20s and some anger and pain I still felt from that – from the fact that I couldn’t give myself what I needed at the time and that the guy I was with definitely couldn’t either. I mourned the loneliness and lack of support I experienced and forgave myself and him for being young, immature, and in survival mode.

When I finished that program, I went back to my regular routine, but gradually became aware there was still a void in my life. I felt I had much to give and was searching for meaning. I tried becoming a Big Sister and they rejected me because they felt I really wanted be a mom not a Big Sister (!). It was at this time that I began to consider adoption, when I hadn’t really felt open to that before. I wanted a child, in whatever way that child was meant to come into my life. My cousin had not long before then adopted a child internationally and I saw the joy that brought her. Two cousins on the other side of my family were adopted, as well.

I began to focus on the idea and signed up for the classes that are required to adopt through foster care. As I was finishing these, my landlord gave me sudden notice that he would be selling the house, which led to a period of transition, house-searching, and upheaval. Once I was settled into my new place, the ex came back into my life. This may sound crazy and you may be thinking, “Really? A third time?” but I had some buried pain and resentment about how we ended things before so it was really good to talk this through with him, and for him to apologize and make amends.

As we worked things through, we felt close again and decided on giving it a last try but shortly after, he actually became ill, so I helped him through his treatment… then, ironically, in part because of the frailty he felt with his illness, he ended up deciding that he did not want to become a father again. When he said this, it was clear our paths were no longer aligned. There were other issues we had, as well, but we were working on these and making good headway. When he got clear he didn’t want a child, I also felt clear that we are not right for one another. When you know it’s not right and it makes sense, even though it hurts, the ending is much easier.

When we broke up, I felt a fire lit under me – like, “Now is the time.” I began considering California Conceptions, which I had discovered a few years earlier. I felt strongly that this was the right way forward for me. I do feel that I am getting older, as well, and I don’t want to wait. I know it’s what I was meant to do and that I have a lot of love and creativity and attention to give a child – and much more maturity and groundedness than I did 10 or 15 years ago. I love my nieces and nephew very much, but they live in another state and I feel called to have my own child and be that one person who loves them unconditionally and is always there for them. I've been ready for a long time.

Which brings me to my request... Would you consider making a donation, at whatever level is comfortable for you, to help me reach my dream of becoming a mom? Or would you consider sharing this campaign with your friends? Perhaps with other mothers or couples who, like me, had to struggle with infertility or other obstacles to becoming parents. I am glad to offer career counseling packages to support you or a friend in your career transition or job search, or resume/cover letter editing, as reward and appreciation for donations of $50 or more. This program costs 12K for all three attempts. I am asking for help raising half that cost, or $6,000. I am confident I can contribute the other half myself. I would really like to start my family without going too deeply in debt, knowing I will need considerable resources as a new mom in the Bay Area.

Help Kristina reach her dream of motherhood

A little more information about California Conceptions, if you’re interested...They are a donor embryo program that provides three attempts to become pregnant with healthy embryos. I consider it adoption from conception. I'm so excited to have the opportunity to become pregnant and nurture the child through a healthy pregnancy, as well as after they are born. IVF and adoption often cost 15K or more and are not guaranteed. About their success rate, which is a significant reason I’m excited:

"The California Conceptions Donor Embryo Program was founded in 2010, with the intent to offer a highly successful alternative to expensive fertility treatments and adoption...patients with a normal uterus will typically have such a high rate of success, we are able to extend a refund option. Hundreds of patients from across the US and the world have traveled to our program and been successful. In most cases, the three transfers result in a cumulative 95% rate of success. Searching the web for information about our program will turn up patient testimonials and success stories."

With Gratitude,

Kristina

Just another ordinary day...sort of...2 years later...

Two years ago on April 15,2014, I got the call! The call that only seemed to be reserved for others. The call that after 5 years, an outstanding number of cycles, and a devastating number of losses...the call...the call that finally came and changed my life forever.

Two years ago today!! April 17,2014, I brought my daughter home!

Every day being this little girl's momma is infinitely better than any day that came before. Every day I go between it being a dream I pray I never wake up from to it being just another ordinary day as her mom .

Here's to many more ordinary days!

Fall

As my ability to post has fallen, I thought I'd share some pics of what Ladybug and I have been up to this fall!

Just another ordinary day...sort of...Part IV

In a New York minute...

I used to listen to that song and think...NOTHING changes...day in and day out...same old, same old...

On September 11, 2001...Just another ordinary day...people got up...people started their daily routine and then...

Everything changed...

 9-11 Memorial Video


 

Ladybug is 2!!

Well that was a month ago! And my ability to post regularly has not improved!

But I will leave you with a few (okay many) of my favorite pics from her 2nd Birthday Photo Shoot!

God I love this kid!

A Long Overdue Mother's Day Take 2...

One thing that has been blowing my mind lately is how fast time is passing. Remember in your teens and twenties...the concept of life passing you by was unimaginable. You just couldn't even picture yourself in your 40s (probably pretty much declaring you'd be dead by then! And never be THAT old!)...and then one day you wake up and BAM you are 40! And within what feels like a few months BAM you are in your mid 40s...and then...yikes!! I still have a few years but the way things are going...BAM!!

I can't not believe how fast time is flying...

I can't believe I haven't posted in 2 months! 2 months!! I am sorry!

And I can't believe how big my little girl is getting!

My little Ladybug has been home for over a year, she is turning 2 and I celebrated my 2nd Mother's Day with her!

It's really this 2nd Mother's Day that I want to post about (which I started writing 2 months ago!) and hopefully I will be posting more to catch you all up on Ladybug turning 2!!

But back to Mother's Day 2015...

It was a Mother's Day of days gone past. The one where we all showed up for brunch and enjoyed the food and a few mimosas as our children ran around and played. There were moms and grandmas, nieces and daughters...A day that in essence celebrates the women in my family and a day where I was (unbelievable!) one of the moms with my child running around and playing. The way I had always imagined before it faded away and became darkness.

Last year it was my first Mother's Day and I think that I was afraid to relax...to acknowledge...if I relaxed...if I let myself breathe it would all go POOF! Like breathing out, finally exhaling, would blow away all that was real and leave nothing but dust in its place...(I have a little confession to make...I still feel this way...that somehow, one day I will wake up and BAM...it all just vanishes.)

But aside from that fear...this year...this Mother's Day...now...

It's normal and simple.

It is as it should be...

ALMOST...

But just not quite....

Because as I sip my mimosa and adorn my daughter with loving looks there are other feelings, other emotions never far from the surface. A combination of love and pain...the love I feel for my daughter and the pain of all that transpired to get to this day...

There is another mom, one who I think about every day, who I am sure was not feeling the joys of this simple day but instead an ache that will never go away...

I do think of her every day. Her and Ladybug's birth grandma. They are never far from my thoughts...

We keep in contact. I send them updates every three months and they have also written to me.

At Easter Ladybug's birth grandma wrote me a letter...a beautiful letter declaring me the answer to their prayers...

I cried and replied:

”I have to tell you how moved I was by your last card. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you both and when you wrote that I was your prayer come true...well...I know in my soul it is the other way around. Somehow God found a way to bring us together."

And I do know in my soul, in the center of my being, that it IS the other way around.

I was at my mom's this weekend and she made a comment about miracles. About how she never really believed in them or thought they were just someone overcoming an illness or something. She said: "I never knew that a miracle could come in this form. This is a miracle! She is a miracle!"

Yes, she is...but the beauty of this miracle comes with heartache and so when I write to Ladybug's birth mom and birth grandma I make sure that I include them...it's hard to explain but they are and always will be a part of Ladybug's life whether they are present or not.  As an adoptive parent you are filled with insecurity and fear...I found by embracing that...embracing my fears...by embracing them and including them in our life...the fears have subsided and I can focus on doing what's right for my little girl...our little girl...

Ladybug is our girl...and I always refer to Ladybug as "our girl" in the letters I send.

So in my last letter I wanted them to know:

" ...on Mother's Day my thoughts, prayers, and gratitude were with you both!  You are never far from my thoughts and my heart. I want you to know that our girl will be honoring you both as well on Mother's Day. Please know we are thinking of you and as "Ladybug" gets older I will have her participate in the letter writing and picking out of the pictures...Our girl is truly a blessing! And I am so blessed to be her forever mommy!"

Mother's Day for me right now may be starting to feel normal...simple...or well as close to that as it can get...because there will always be another mom present on that day...one who needs to know that our girl will be honoring her too.

The day I met my daughter....

Like all the memories you could never forget...the emotions of them take over and details fall through the cracks.

But the feeling, that rush of magic...that rush of a dream come true...the rush of a love...a love so strong I can only relate it to a realm beyond earth.

Okay that's just corny and stupid! I am trying to find the words to express something that really is un-expressible and to do it without sounding like a total wingnut...it is just impossible!

Let's try this again...that rush of a dream come true...the rush of a love...

I will go back through the day as I remember it and hope I can give you a sense of what it is like to meet your daughter for the first time!

I got the "call" on April 15th. I brought my daughter home on April 17th. What happened April 16th I have no clue!! I know Sissy M came over and there was a trip to Babies R Us where we tried to get things we needed and I did something I never thought I would do...I registered! So that day was about getting diapers, bottles, crib sheets, changing pads and anything else we could think of...

April 17th 2014, I had to get to the adoption agency by noon, the foster mom was bringing my daughter to the agency at 1. We had 1 hour's worth of paperwork to fill out.

I knew in my soul that I needed to get the ladybug bracelets for the birth mom and grandma. That was so important to me to make sure they had them.

The store that I needed go to that had the bracelets opened at 10am. It was 20 minutes from my house.

So, the agency at noon which was over an hour away.  My BFF M2 was driving me and she was meeting me at my place at 10:45am.

Get to the store, buy the bracelets, get back by 10:45am because one thing you should know...M2 is ALWAYS ON TIME!!

BFF V is going to drive me to the store to get the bracelets. We don't have one minute to spare and I swear she is driving at the speed of at turtle!!

I get to the store minutes after it has opened and can you f'ing believe it...A LINE!! Apparently at 10am on Thursdays is the day everyone goes out to buy Alex and Ani bracelets! Who knew!

It was an excruciating 10 minutes before I could get my bracelets and then the snails crawl drive back...ughhh...of course BFF M2 is waiting for us.

We hop into her SUV and off we go. Now BFF M2 drives a lot faster so I was happy about that but before we even get into gear, BFF V from the backseat says to me "Don't move. Just don't move" and then says to BBF M2 "Do you have a tissue"

Me: "What! What! What is it??"

V: "Don't move!"

BFF M2 reaches into my hair, grabs something and throws it out her window and says: "I don't know what it was but it didn't start with the letter S"

She knows I am deathly afraid of spiders! And there was one (apparently a big one!) crawling in my hair.

Now we are finally off! And yes, BBF M2 was driving as fast as she could but every turn we took was met by slow drivers, 18 wheelers and dump trucks...it was un-fucking-believable.

And I am literally crawling out of my skin! Not only from the creepy crawler that was crawling in my hair but the anticipation, the stress of the drive, the fear of the unknown and the love that was filling my heart for my little girl...

Would she like me? Will she be scared? Will she cry? Will I be able to comfort her? (I still have these fears!)

We finally pull up to the agency. It's 12:30! My mom is already there and we are taken into a back conference room to go over all the paper work! My friends wait outside.

Let me tell you something folks...you have no idea what is a lot of paper work until you go through adoption...

Every piece of paper that needed to be signed was stacked in front of me and it felt like the stack NEVER went down!

I'm looking at the clock and then back at the stack, then at my mom, then at the social workers who are painfully going over every detail of every piece of paper...literally reading every word! Then back at the clock, my mom, the social workers, the papers...

1 o'clock has come and gone. It's now 1:15...1:20...1:30 and I know my daughter is here waiting...

At one point my mom had to run out to go to the bathroom, her excitement and anticipation was so great! She didn't want to hold anything up so she is rushing back not realizing she has buttoned and zipped the bottom of her shirt into her jeans!

Finally I am done with all the paperwork and I am taken into that small, little room that houses that small, little rocking chair with the afghan thrown over its back. I wonder how many adoptive parents sat in this chair before me creating their family!  And how many after...

Next to the rocking chair on a desk is mine and Ladybug's name spelled out in children's blocks with the date 4/17/14 and Congratulations! (I still have those blocks!)

FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! Patricia the social worker brings my Ladybug in...and within moments Ladybug reaches her arms out to me. I pull her close and I knew in that moment that I would never let her go...forever!

And what's happened since that day...since  April 17th 2014! Here's a little snapshot!

One Year Together

The first time ever I saw your face...

I had just finished a brutal WOD (for non-Crossfiters that's Workout of the Day!)

My face was red, my hair was wet and I was standing at the front desk getting ready to sign up for a year's worth of WOD's at this Crossfit gym.

Little did I know that day, when I was running 400 meters carrying 25lbs followed by push-ups, sit-up, squats and God knows what other torture they threw at me that day, little did I know that it was my last day of torture. My last WOD (for now).

I didn't know...I had no clue.

Wallet out...ready to join...

I knew the owner from party days gone by! Funny how that happens. He used to date one of my girlfriend's.

He was asking me if I liked the workout and I was making a joke about being able to tell from my cherry red face when my phone rang...

No caller ID, 609 area code...hmmm...who the hell is this? 

My mom and sister are in the 609 area code...but they would come up on the ID? Maybe they are calling from somewhere else??

No clue...

"Ryan, I've got to take this. I'll be right back"

I walked outside to take that call and Ryan never saw me again!

Every moment of that day has transformed into a slow motion movie that keeps replaying in my mind.

One year later I can't get over the fact that this has happened to me! That Ladybug and I are a forever family.

That day I drove to my adoption agency to meet Ladybug's birth mom and grandma.

And although every moment of this movie that plays out in my head is monumental, there is one moment frozen in time...

While waiting for them to get to the agency for our meeting, the social worker handed me her cell phone with these pictures on it:

It was truly love at first sight! I knew in my heart of hearts that she was my daughter...my forever daughter...

April 15, 2014 - The first time ever I saw your face! Mommy loves you!! Mommy loves that face!!

The rush of childhood..

One day it just happens...your childhood becomes the past...the distant past... it's  not like "poof" and it happens  all at once. No. it's been  happening all along. With each passing year you feel it's presence diminishing...like watching scenery in your rear-view mirror it just keeps getting further and further away.

But when you are younger, you don't even realize that it's happening. You certainly have no sense of it in your teens or even your twenties...your too busy looking forward...but as you get older or in the event of a loss...then one day, all of the sudden you realize that all those images that have been moving further and further  away have in essence vanished.

They're gone...

And you miss them...everything in the rear view mirror becomes blurry.

It's not so much that you miss being young and that you reject the inevitable fact of age in life.

No... I enjoy aging (well most of it). I actually like being older.

It's the people, the places, the smells, the scenery that at one time was being viewed from front and center...from up close...

I think that's why my last trip to see my aunt, knowing that this was truly the last trip...she was passing...was one of flashing images of a time gone by and slow motion movies from my childhood.

It was a long trip to go see her...12 hours in the car...and with each passing mile the scenery filled my mind with those flashes, images and movies.

I can't say I remember every moment with her because some are so far away they become just a feeling...an emotion...a sense of comfort or roar of laughter...not the actual event.

Other moments flash...I hear her boisterous laugh...see the room, her face, her smile...I see me small, vulnerable and in awe...

My aunt liked to "hoot" and "holler" and that small, vulnerable me...looked at her wide eyed.

My aunt liked to be "hip"...the "cool" aunt. One you could go to and talk about anything and she would tell you what you needed to hear not what you wanted to hear. I can still see the teen and young adult me looking at her with admiration. And the more recent me...the broken from infertility me sharing a knowing smile with my aunt when she met my Ladybug and she declares: "You were a a mess!" Yes I was aunt Nancy...yes I was...

Some of these images bring comfort...like being so little and sitting on her lap on a porch swing watching the lightening...or her lowering a rope to pull me up so I could sit in front of her on her beloved horse for a ride.

Some bring laughter...like the time my older sisters told me to say "mother fucker" and I ran around my aunt's back yard saying "mother fucker!" "mother fucker!" "mother fucker!"

My aunt immediately brought me inside and rinsed my mouth out with soap.  I kept crying "But Sissy M and Sissy L told me to say it!"

My aunt's reply: "Well now you learned 2 lessons! Don't ever say that word and don't listen to your sisters!"

And it's my time now...

It's my turn.  I am the aunt! I am the mom! I need to take these years and be the childhood that my aunt Nancy was for me and be that for my nieces, nephews and most of all for my daughter.

But you miss it...you miss those times...

And it's not that you don't want to grow up and have those things with your own kids...it's just that you want to keep your childhood close too!

You want porch swings and rocking chairs and thunderstorms. You want to sit on  your aunt's lap and watch the lightening...you don't want it to be distant images fading from view...

My aunt passed away and now there's a little less boisterous laughing, hooting and hollering here on earth but I am sure she will be livening up the place in heaven.

I know there should be some moment when I tell the world what she meant to me. The lessons she taught...her words of wisdom...make this sweeping, elegant statement about her but I can't think of anything!! Just a rush of emotion.

I love you aunt Nancy! The only thing I can think of that could remotely come close to describing what my aunt meant to me is "childhood" and all the beauty that a childhood should bring.

That rush of childhood coming back into view.

Well I never!

There are many things I have said I'd never do...

Some socially, some emotionally, some physically...

I've said that I would never have children if I was single...HA!!

I've said that I would never seek treatment to have a child...double HA!!!

I have said that...gulp...gasp...I would never go a week...NEVERMIND a month without posting on my blog! I'm in the 3rd month! WTF! How in the world did that happen? I swear in my head I wrote dozens of posts! But I guess I NEVER put them on paper! I really do need to get them out of my head...soon...I hope!

And of course let's not forget the "nevers" we said about parenting...

Never feed her french fries...hmmm she might have had one or two...

Never let her sleep in my bed...okay a cuddle night every now and then NEVER hurt anyone...

Never let her play video games...but it's only educational games...

I would NEVER put my child in front of the tv before she was 2!

Yeah well...Ladybug is watching her A,B,C video as I type this...

Lots and lots of nevers...but really where's the harm right...

Well there is one never that I recently did that I need to make sure that it really is a NEVER!

That I NEVER do it again!

Life before Ladybug, I can hardly recall but what I do recall is the pain of not knowing if I would EVER be a mom.

And the pain of how one by one everyone around me had their dreams come true and I just kept moving further and further away from mine.

As the photos of pregnant bellies and babies flooded every possible visual outlet I became increasingly defiant swearing that I would NEVER be so callous, so crude, so insensitive as to throw my victory into the face of those still struggling. That I wouldn't run around showing pictures and telling stories of "what my kid did today". Never would I make anyone else feel the pain I felt when I had to look at a baby picture and think....it's never going to be me...

Well...it really isn't that way...I know that now, the victors weren't doing that at all...but in reality, it doesn't matter. In my pain I would have never saw it for what it really is...

What it really is...is such an unbelievable, overwhelming feeling of gratitude, love and disbelief. It is a dream-like state where you feel if you don't show the world that the world might take it away...or even worse that it really didn't happen.

You run around with the Cheshire cat grin that no one can wipe off your face and you have to show everyone why!

I have over 1,500 photos and videos on my phone now that EVERYONE must see. Everyone MUST see how beautiful, funny, sweet, incredible my daughter is...she's there...she's real...and I NEVER thought I could ever be so incredible happy...I NEVER thought life held such exquisite contentment!

I NEVER thought it was going to be as amazing as it is and now I just want everyone to feel this sweet release of pain and fear...

There is a woman in my class. We have actually sat in class together for a few semesters and this semester we started talking.

She's one of us...an Infertile...oh the pain! Her and her husband tried for years to have a baby and couldn't. Her husband doesn't want to pursue donor eggs or embryos or even adoption.  He feels that if it was meant to happen, it will happen. She says they have decided to let it be what it's going to be and travel.

It blows my mind! I would NEVER let a man keep me from my dream of being a mother! (and obviously I didn't).

But I am coming from my realities. I don't have the best marriage role models in my family (or with friends for that matter). Most end in divorce and all I keep thinking is "Yeah in 5 years when you are divorced then what!!"

But what if her marriage is built to last...do you throw that away? I don't know...I've never had that...

Either way it's her decision and I'm pretty sure...no wait...I am sure...I actually know...it's a painful decision...

Every day she is in pain...it might have resolved itself to a quiet pain but it's a pain that never leaves nonetheless.

And here I am in class showing her pictures and videos of Ladybug...

I never want to be the constant reminder to her...

I never want to be the reason her quiet pain becomes loud again.

So for now I have to make sure that I never do that again. I keep my phone in its case and NEVER be her reminder.

And I'll keep praying that her husband is right (hmmm...this is where you throw in the line that men are NEVER right! Ha! Joking...kinda!) and that if it's meant to happen it will...

Because hey...I'm living proof that you NEVER know!

It's the most wonderful time of the year...Part II...

Part I - December 2011

Just a few weeks after my second miscarriage.

My grief was insurmountable.

In that post, I summed up my grief: "...every moment feels like you are walking through quicksand. The days fly by at such an alarmingly slow pace but they will be here and gone before you know it."

I think I'm at a loss for words to describe where I am today...

Christmas Eve 2014

I see those words...those words of Christmas past... and I am speechless...wordless...

Trust me this isn't going to be one of those self absorbed, self stroking posts about..."How if I could only go back and shake the me then and tell her it's all going to be okay..."  Blah! Blah! Bullshit....

I know that there are so many out there who can't breathe right now and the holidays...the most wonderful time of the year...makes it worse. Makes it nearly impossible to even get up and face the cheer.

So no, this isn't one of those posts about how: "If I could only see into the future I would change the way I felt then"

Because there is no way, at that time, I could have foreseen this...

This freaking miracle...

And really...who the hell could!!

Because to be completely honest...I...AM...ONE...LUCKY... MOTHER FER.....!

There is no doubt in my mind that I could easily be sitting in the same grief of 2011...2012...2013 and of course the many years before that...

I do not know what I did to deserve this twist of fate that brought me my daughter...

It's perfect orchestration...how could one predict that!

I pray every day to be worthy of it...

And the only words that seem to come to me is...redemption...it feels like redemption...

And isn't that fitting for the season!

Those deep, dark moments when I felt like my whole life was a mistake...

Like there were no words to describe its purpose...

Or wait maybe there are words...

The words I never thought I would speak...

The words that every day take my breath away and are the reason I breathe...

The words...

"My daughter"

Every day I get to say those words and it is like Christmas!

To those still waiting to say those words...

To those still living with the ghost of Christmas Past or Christmas Present...

I can't tell how to make it better...or what to do to change it...all I can say is hold on...and even that isn't good enough...I know! I've been there!

But I do pray that someday you find your redemption...that you find your Merry Christmas!

Because there are no word to express it when it happens...there's nothing else like it.

It is the true meaning of Christmas...

I pray you find your Merry Christmas!

Broken too...

When I bought my condo back in 2006, all I could barely afford was a one bedroom. The condo is great. Very spacious for a one bedroom but it's a one bedroom.

Of course now my one bedroom is worth a studio and I could get a two bedroom for just about what I paid for my one bedroom...

Ughhh...and yikes...but really it doesn't matter...the tides will change again and I LOVE my condo.  I have no plans for moving...well at least for 5 years...

When I decided that I was going to take motherhood into my own hands, the plan was to turn my dining room/office into the nursery.

About three months before I got "the call"...feeling at my lowest...feeling that motherhood had slipped through my hands...I decided to put that plan into action. I put up a wall and created a nursery.

I felt that..."If I build it...they will come!"

And still to my amazement it worked!! She came and took up residency!!!

My little Ladybug has the cutest nursery! (if I do say so myself)...

But in order to make the world's cutest nursery I had to move some things around...and that included my office and two antique bookcases.  Those bookcases are treasured possessions from my Grandma H who passed away in 2008.

These bookcases were moved to either side of my living room closet.

On these bookcase not only does it house books but it is the home to some of my most treasured items...ahhhh why wasn't piggy bank up there...I'm not sure why but for some reason piggy bank was always living in my entertainment center.

But on the bookcases...pictures of family...pictures on me with my best friends...dolls...nick nacks...glass figurines and a large round, hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo...

The astrological sign of Virgo...my sign.

The hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo was hand painted by me when I was little. I was with my father when I painted it. It's one of the very few memories I have...painting that ceramic...

That ceramic...like piggy bank...served as my memories and has been with me for over 30 years.

About a week ago sissy L was over helping me clean out the closet the lies in between the two bookcases.

Barely tapping the bookcase with the closet door...out of all the items living on those shelves...my hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo found a way to propel itself off the bookcase and break....

It didn't shattered...which I am happy about...but there are a couple of chunks missing that I will have to paint over...it can't be glued like piggy bank...but it is salvageable...

When it happened I thought "Figures! Doesn't that fucking figure! Of all the things!"

I wasn't mad at sissy L...she barely tapped it...And I wasn't tormented by the sight of it broken...

I was eerily quiet and had a disturbing feeling...

I knew it was an omen...

Almost like the voice that told me right before my 2nd miscarriage: "You won't be pregnant in the summer." Predicting the end of my cherished pregnancy...

This voice said: "You're dad's going to die."

I didn't say this to sissy L.

I cleaned it up and we went about our day.

We went about our days...

I couldn't (and still can't) get the image of these broken items out of my head...broken but fixed...but yet still broken...

I feel like piggy bank...I'm broken but I've been glued back together...

I'm broken because I don't have a relation with my dad. I had one and then it was gone and that has broken me...

There will always be a part of me that is broken but over time with the love of my family and friends those broken pieces have been glued back together.

You might not see the cracks just by looking at me...

You might not know I've been glued back together...but in the end the reality is...I am broken...

A few days after Virgo took a header off the bookcase I received news that my father...my dad...due to injuries from his accident...wasn't going to make it...

He was being taken off all life support...

My step mother and step siblings set it up in the hospital so that my sisters and I would Skype in and say goodbye.

I cannot thank them enough for giving me the opportunity to do so...

I'm going to be honest...deathbed Skyping is something that should NEVER be trending.

It's beyond my vocabulary to describe how hard that was...how sad...how sweet...how moving...how traumatizing...how heartbreaking...

My sisters and I Skyped in...we said hello to our "step" family...my dad's family...

We laughed...we joked...we cried...we said our goodbyes...we expressed our gratitude...

The doctor came in...explained the situation...said amazing things about my dad...and then proceeded...

We waited...

Stories... tears...waiting...songs...my step brother sang a beautiful song to my dad...

It was obvious this was a song they all knew...I didn't know it...but it was beautiful...

Then in one moment...my step sister utter the words: "Daddy".

And suddenly I felt like an intruder...

Some kind of weird peeping Tom...I knew it was time to go...he was her daddy...he was their daddy...

He spent every day with them...Christmas mornings and Easter Sundays...

My Christmas mornings were over a long time ago...he wasn't my daddy anymore and he hadn't been for 30 years.

It was in that moment it became painfully clear that I wasn't ever going to be daddy's little girl...

My cracks were showing...

I ended the Skype...

Later that night little Ladybug woke up crying...she NEVER wakes up crying...this kid can sleep!!

As I was comforting her...I knew deep down that she is broken too...it's something I've always known...and her cracks will be deeper than mine...

I told her:

"I can't take it away baby. I wish I could but I can't take it away. I just pray that I am enough glue to hold those cracks together."

She quieted down and we cuddled together...

Sometime in those moments...my father passed away.

Broken

There is a shelf on the side of my entertainment center, which for the last 8 years, has been the home to piggy bank.

A grey porcelain piggy bank with the name Michaela hand painted on either side.

I have had this piggy bank for over 30 years.

Believe it or not...that is pretty impressive because over 30 years ago finding anything with an unusual name on it was next to impossible...and even today it's hard for me to find things with my name on it (Note to Coke Cola... I would like someone to share a Coke with me!).

But that piggy bank...that piggy bank...some 30 plus years ago...my father, who was stationed in Germany at the time, somehow unearthed it and sent it to me.

It is one of the very few gifts I have from him.

For over 30 years this piggy bank has found its way to a shelf for display in every place that I have ever lived.

And trust me that is a lot of places! You discover how many it really is once you have to repeatedly fill out paperwork for your homestudy asking you to list all the places that you have EVER lived!

EVER LIVED!!

Writing that out makes you go "Dang I moved a lot!!"

And it makes me realize that is A LOT of places that piggy bank has ever lived too!

Well up until a few months ago...

My little Ladybug, my beautiful, sassy little girl, (man she has long arms!) managed to reach up to where  piggy bank lives and pull him down.

Piggy bank is now broken...

I honestly thought my reaction to piggy bank being broken would have been one of deep sadness and sheer remorse for letting one of the very few things I have from my father be in a position to be broken.

I thought I would tormented by seeing it broken into pieces...

I wasn't...I was slightly sad...I had a twinge...but I didn't feel that overwhelming sense of loss...that re-awaking of a familiar pain in my heart...the pain of not having a relationship with my father...that pain that plagued my younger years...I was waiting for that pain...but it was just a reminisce.

I picked up the broken pieces of piggy bank and he is now taking up residence in my bedroom, on top of my dresser with the hopes of someday being glued back together...I say someday because who knows the next time I'll have free time...Ladybug consumes all of my time...it's a good thing...

Not long after piggy bank took his humpty dumpty fall, I received news that my father was in a very bad car accident and in ICU.

All my life I imagined how I would feel about numerous scenarios involving my father...I don't think I ever imagined a devastating car crash that left him broken.

Just like I thought the site of piggy bank being broken would have flooded me with a pain...a pain of loss... I expected hearing such news about my father would torment me too...filling me with the that overwhelming sense of loss...re-awakening that pain that plagued me for years....but it didn't...

I felt a twinge of something...the beginning of an ache in my heart...but out of habit my heart went into self-preservation mode and allowed it to be nothing more than a twinge.

And the twinge...is that twinge there because my father was in a terrible car accident or is it empathy because no one should have to suffer that kind of fate...like the twinge I get when I see an animal on the side of the road...

Could that twinge be nothing more?? Nothing more but empathy....for my father...my dad??

My sister text me: "I just spoke to dad. He told me to let you know that he reads your blog and said you are a very strong woman and he is proud of you."

Ahhhh the twinge...against my hearts best efforts the twinge morphed into that old familiar pain...the pain you have when you lose a father...and how you lost them is inconsequential...even if they are still alive...that pain of loss...it still exists...even if it's disguise as a twinge...

"I just spoke to dad. He told me to let you know that he reads your blog and said you are a very strong woman and he is proud of you."

"He reads your blog"...

It's funny...I spent most of my 20s writing letters...letters in my head to him...never sent...some hit paper...but never sent...

"He reads your blog"...

I think in your teens you're rebellious...in your 20s wild...in your 30s you come to terms and in your 40s you forgive...you move on...you find the closest thing to peace that you can...

"He reads your blog and said you are a very strong woman and he is proud of you."

I wish he could have read the things  I wrote in my 20s and 30s...notice I didn't say teens...too harsh...and it was...but if I could have him go back and read some of it...he'd know I'm mad...he'd know I thought the world of him (what little girl doesn't)...and he'd know I remember...

"He reads your blog"...

So I guess I can let him know...(if he's reading)

Things I remember about my father...

I remember he used to bake bread...really delicious bread...it's the smell that I remember the most...

He had a really, small green car we called Kermit...

He used to flip me over his shoulder to carry me...

We used to go bowling...

We painted ceramics...

I thought he was so handsome...like Elvis!

We would watch "The Rockford Files"

I thought he was so handsome...like James Gadner!

We had a Winnebago!

His CB handle was "Ski"

He called me "short round"

"He reads your blog and said you are a very strong woman and he is proud of you."

I remember years and years ago...a good 10 years plus...I went to funeral of my friend Kay's father. It was a very sad funeral, her father was only in his 50s and she was a young girl in her 20s...

Not that losing a father at any point in life isn't devastating...

I have another friend who recently lost her father and even though he was older the loss is just as tragic...(and I think this still can apply to her because she was his world!)

Any way...after her dad died, Kay and I were talking. I was trying to bring her some comfort. I remember telling her to really hold on to the great moments she had with her dad.

My sentiments..."All my life all I ever wanted was to be daddy's little girl. I would have given anything to be daddy's little girl...for just one moment...to be daddy's little girl...you got to be daddy's little girl for over 20 years. Try remember that when you think of him."

And isn't that true of every little girl...wanting to be daddy's little girl...

But now some 30 years since, heck almost 40...I've learned to live with the fact that I am not...

My broken heart has been glued back together...

" He reads your blog"

" He is proud of you"

And my heart breaks...it's more than a twinge...to know that he is broken...

"He reads your blog"

I know physically he is broken...

But for the rest....

"He reads your blog"

I hope I can provide a little bit of glue...

And maybe...just maybe in those moments when he is reading my blog...in that moment...I am daddy's little girl.

Just another ordinary day...sort of...Part III

August 28, 2009

As far as I can recall...it was just another ordinary day.

It was 2 days before my birthday (my "you waited too long birthday").

It was a Friday.

The plan...take the day off, go to the doctor and then head down the shore for a little b'day R&R.

The doctor...I had my first appointment with a fertility doctor to discuss Artificial Insemination.

My thoughts... I thought it was going to be easy...simple...you know like in the movies...

I walk into the doctor's office, declare my plans to have a baby on my own, the doctor does some kind of wave of his magic wand and...

PRESTO!! PREGNANT!!

Honestly that's pretty much what I thought!

I knew there would be some sort of testing and some kind of procedure but other than that...PRESTO!!

Boy was this ordinary day about to teach me lessons I didn't want to learn.

August 28, 2009

On that day not myself nor the doctor knew how this was going to end...because the journey...that long and painful road I was about to travel... had only just to begin...without even knowing it, I had taken the first steps.

And the testing...well the testing had only just begun too!

I know they took massive amounts of blood that day and they introduced me to  "Wanda" - why yes the seemingly harmless but somewhat invasive dildocam used to perform the ever so devastating vaginal ultrasound.

On that ordinary day in August Wanda started her reign of terror, revealing  to me that I had a low AFC - antral follicle count - which basically means a low egg count...I didn't know on that ordinary day that it was an "out of" egg count...just low...

None of this seemed to spell DOOM until Dr. Doom declared I had a practically 0% chance of getting pregnant.

Turning all my days from ordinary to barely livable.

This one seemingly ordinary day was the start of what seemed to be endless...

Endless testing...

Endless cycles - 20 to be exact...

Endless pills....

Endless needles...

Endless tears...

August 28, 2009

Just another ordinary day turned into the dreaded marker of time...

Marking the endless days...

The endless weeks...

The endless years...

I had no idea that this one...seemingly ordinary day...just another ordinary day...would permanently changed who I am and the trajectory of my life...forever...

August 28,2014

5 years later the endlessness ended...

I held my daughter...I played with her...fed her...bathed her and put her to bed...

It was just another ordinary day...sort of...

I know her too...

Dear Moms of Adopted Children ~ read the full article ~

"I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.

But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself."

It IS beautiful...I think???

On my "private" Facebook group one of the girls posted a link to this:

A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN MAY | THE BIRTH OF MATILDA

Her comment: "Just wanted to share...it's beautiful"

My comment...or should I say reaction was:

"I don't know...that completely freaks me out and makes me incredibly sad at the same time"

My friend felt bad.  She posted an apology...she didn't have to. I know she didn't post it thinking this would be something that could be hurtful to me or to anyone else.

She posted it because she thought it was beautiful...

And it is...I think??

And it's the: "I think" that's making me incredibly sad...

The thing is many people will make references to pregnancy and childbirth and it will be something I know nothing about.

The private Facebook page is a Single Mom by Choice page. I am the only mom that has adopted. There is another mother that used a surrogate. I am not sure how she feels about pregnancy and childbirth, she has never mentioned it.

But all the other mothers gave birth to their children.

I am sure that they all (well at least no one's admitted to the contrary) think it's beautiful.

They've experienced it....I can't say the same.

I never got past 8 weeks...so I never REALLY got to experience pregnancy aside from some sore boobs and a little nausea...I never felt a kick or hiccup (Ladybug gets the hiccups all the time! It wonder if she did while in her birthmommy's belly?)...and I never felt a contraction or pushed or gave birth...and I'll tell you what...

Those pictures terrified me and made me incredible sad not because...well not only because of the obvious...but because seeing a little head coming out of her...FREAKS ME OUT!!

All I can think of when I look at that picture is "Oh God NO!!"

It doesn't seem natural and it's not beautiful...well at least not to me...

And that makes me incredibly sad...

Because it makes me think to myself...

Could that be it?

Could my inner reactions be why?

Why I never got past 8 weeks? Why I never gave birth? Because I don't find it beautiful?

I've felt this way as long as I can remember.  And I'm going to be honest here, I have the same visceral reaction to breastfeeding! (Please note - I am PRO breastfeeding...it just freaks me out!)

Even though I wanted it so desperately...

Could that be why?

The day I met my daughter the social workers brought me to this tiny, little room at the agency. In the corner of the room, turned so it could fit in the space, sat a rocking chair. A child's blanket laid across the back of the rocking chair.

They told me to sit in the chair.

I did.

I looked around the room. The social workers had set up children's blocks on the desk next to the rocking chair that said "Congratulations Michaela and Ladybug (well her real name) April 17, 2014.

My mother dressed in a bright orange shirt...bright orange because she read somewhere it is comforting to children...she stood behind the door that the social workers were about to carry my daughter through with her video camera posed and ready...

I sat there in this strange rocking chair, in this strange, little room with my name strangely spelled out in blocks and my mother wearing a strange, overly bright orange shirt...and I looked at my mother...no not to condemn her for her color choices...

I looked at  my mother and as a matter fact I said: "Could this be why?"

"I think so honey" my mom said with a smile..."I think so!"

I go into her room at night and I watch her. I can't stop watching her... and I know it doesn't matter.

I know it doesn't matter.

Just like pregnancy and childbirth...

It doesn't matter...

Just like the fairy tale of the guy and the dream of 2 kids...

It doesn't matter...

Your family...no matter what it looks like and no matter how it came to be...

That's what matters...that's what's beautiful...

That moment in that strange, little room at my adoption agency, with my mom in her brightly colored shirt poised with a video camera in hand as the social workers walked in carrying my daughter...it was beautiful...

But that doesn't stop me from wishing that I held her close to my chest the second she was born.

That doesn't stop me from wishing that her little head came out of my...well nope...nope...still freaking me out....

That doesn't stop me from wishing that I could see the beauty in that...first hand...

Ungrateful?

There have been so many ways that I envisioned my baby shower.

And with each miscarriage and each failed cycle my visions kept fading away.

I even envisioned what my baby shower would be like if I adopted and I mentioned it to mom, my sisters, my BFF M2. It would be a "Meet the Baby Shower".

But I guess that's all I could really picture...a title or a declaration of what it would be...

But envisioning that day coming true....

Walking in a seeing everyone who came out to celebrate.

Envisioning  who was going to be there? The hugs...the joy...the congratulations...the amount of love and support I would feel...

No...there was no way to envision that.

And I still can't "see" it clearly...even though it happened.

We called it a "Sip and See" and the amount of love and support...it's indescribable.

It is a moment that I feel like I watched instead of participated in...

It's a sense...an emotion...an overwhelming feeling of gratitude!

At the Sip and See...my baby shower...one of my best friends from childhood, she has two teenage children but she also had several m/c's and one late term. She came up to me at the shower and said: "It makes it all worth it doesn't it...Well, not really! We could have totally done without the other shit but you know what I mean."

Yeah I knew what she meant...

The other day I had my annual checkup with Dr. O my gynecologist.

Dr. O is one of my favorite doctors. The man that I wanted to deliver my baby but instead performed my D&C.

When I confirmed my appointment I asked the receptionist if it was okay that I brought my daughter.  She responded yes, but  I am sure I confused her.

When I got there, there was a surprising number of children in the waiting room. This is something that would have crushed me a few months ago. Seeing women with their children...and it wouldn't have matter if their child was well behaved or throwing a tantrum...if she was put together or thrown together...seeing women with their children as I sat there alone, having another test or another period to remind me...

And in the waiting room (as expected; he is an OBGYN) were some pregnant women...

It was still hard.

I still looked with envy, hurt and pain.

And as I looked with the eyes of a wounded warrior at the pregnant bellies...directly across from Ladybug was a woman, by herself, looking at her.

Was she me a few months back? Walking into the worst place on Earth...the OBGYN! Knowing you will encounter all that you long for...

In that moment I was grateful. Grateful that my daughter was next me...

But what I didn't feel was gratitude that I can't carry a child or gratitude that I would never experience pregnancy...

It was like my friend said: "Yeah we could have done without that other shit!"

From the moment I started pursuing adoption people would say to me "Oh as soon as you adopt you won't hurt anymore", "That baby will make you forget all the pain" or "None of it will matter" etc.

Meaning that my adoption was meant to take away the pain of infertility and miscarriages.

My response...

I would tell them that it's not my baby's job to heal me...I have to heal myself...

Is that easy?

No!

But I have been trying to heal well before my little angel showed up.

Am I healed?

No! (evident by my trip to the gyno!)

Infertility and pregnancy loss will always be a part of me. And that I can live with...not being a mommy is what I couldn't live with...so in that aspect...Yes...she has healed me...she filled the hole in my heart that wanted to be a mommy...not the hole IF caused...and certainly not the hole in my heart that mourns my lost babies.

I could have done without the other shit...

And that brings me to one of the things that pissed me off (and still pisses me off) when I was stuck in my own private hell, when I was still in the trenches...I would read these blog posts of gratitude for Infertility.

It always came about a month after they reached the other side and it was always some sappy crap about "If I could have shaken the me back then..." blah, blah puke!

Of course these proclamations of unwavering gratitude ONLY come once that person had reached the other side. Happily holding their baby or their pregnant belly...declaring to the world their gratitude for Infertility.

Always after...I have yet to read a post where someone was grateful for the infertility while still in hell...

Am I ungrateful because I'm not grateful for the other shit?

I think I must be missing this overwhelming realization...

I keep thinking there has to be this incredible moment that brings you to your knees and floods you with this undying gratitude for something that's causes so much pain...and I'm missing it...

Because if I could go back in time...I would shake the me of back then and say: "Stop spending so much goddamn money!!"

I will tell you this...my heart is full with gratitude for my daughter... I have fallen to my knees sobbing over the miracle of it all...

I am grateful for many things...

I am grateful I survived!

I am grateful I never gave up!

I am grateful for the community of love and support that surrounds me.

But I'm still not grateful for my Infertility...

Not one teeny, tiny bit!            

Yeah...I could have done without the other shit...