As you probably know by some of my previous posts, Matt and I have had a lot of trouble starting a family.  We have been living with infertility and miscarriages for almost 6 years now.  Adoption has been in the back of our minds throughout most of this experience, and in the past year has come up more and more in our conversations.  I think both of us were a little afraid to talk about adoption with the other, because we didn’t want to make each other feel as though we were giving up hope for biological children.  We finally decided to go to an adoption information meeting at the Bethany Christian Services office in Indianapolis a couple months ago.  We left feeling really encouraged and ready to move ahead with the adoption process.  We are working on getting our initial application completed and submitted.  Hopefully they will accept our initial app and invite us to complete a formal application.


At this point (which is barely at the beginning) we are very worried about money.  I’m worried about passing the home visits and other interviews. I’m worried that no birth mother will choose us.  On one hand it’s encouraging to know that they take so much care and precaution into choosing their adoptive families.  On the other, it’s hard to know that there are millions of people who can just get pregnant without all this pre-approval!  It is what it is though…


In an attempt to raise some money for our adoption, we have started a ChipInwhere people can donate online.  I am also selling my photography at Etsy.  The photos I have posted are just a sampling of what I have available.  You can view my entire photostream on Flickr and e-mail me if there’s a photo you would like that isn’t listed on Etsy.  I can do many other sizes as well, so just let me know!


I’m collecting other ideas for fundraising as well.  If you can think of any, I’d love to hear them!  Leave me a comment to let me know.  We had a yard sale a few weeks ago, and the proceeds from that will be put towards our application fees.


On top of all this adoption excitement, we are still attempting to have a child biologically.  We have been meeting with a fertility specialist in Indianapolis, and he has tested us for about a thousand things.  After all these tests came back, it was determined that we’ve just had some bad luck.  It’s discouraging to not have a reason behind all these miscarriages, but it is good to know that there is nothing wrong.


Who knows?  Perhaps this time next year we’ll have been successful on both fronts, and we’ll need 2 cribs!

>A horrible Saturday…

>We found out Tuesday that our third pregnancy was over.  The baby we were carrying had died.  I knew it was only a matter of time before this little body was going to have to leave my womb.  Friday I met with the doctor to talk about a D&C, and we scheduled the procedure for next Tuesday (January 25th).  Up to this point, I had no bleeding or spotting or any indication of any issues, other than a small bit of discharge (I hate that word).

Saturday morning I woke up around 7:45 with the need to pee, and a small cramp told me maybe I’d have some #2 also.  I sat on the toilet doing my thing, and suddenly a big cramp came over me and I felt a large amount of something gush.  (Gross…I know)  I knew exactly what it was before even looking.  I quickly finished, woke Matt, packed a little bag, and called the hospital.  My doctor was there, and alerted the emergency room that we were coming.  We drove the 20 miles to the hospital, all the while I was bleeding intensely and cramping more and more.  They got me back to the emergency room pretty quickly, but took what seemed like forever to get me hooked up to pain medication.  I swear that IV needle was huge.  It was like they were shooting a PVC pipe into my hand!  The pain was making me nauseous, so a nurse held a bucket by my head until the Zofran kicked in.  By 9:00 they were wheeling me into the surgery unit, and already had to give me another dose of Morphine.

I have only been put under sedation once in my life, and that was for the extraction of my wisdom teeth.  I remember being afraid then, but I was much more afraid this time.  For some reason, I really felt as though I was going to die.  It was a horrible feeling.  Matt was so good the whole time though.  He stayed calm, stroked my hair to calm me down and continuously kissed me and told me he loved me and that I would be fine.

At 9:30 they wheeled me into the operating room.  It was exactly what it looks like on TV.  Sterile white walls, huge lights, lots of machines, everyone dressed in scrubs and caps and booties on their feet.  Totally surreal.  They quickly moved me to the operating table and strapped a mask over my face that pumped air into my mouth and nose.  They told me to take deep breaths, and when I asked what it was, they said it was just oxygen.  Liars.  I was out before I was done taking my third breath.

I started coming to and I was mysteriously back on the hospital bed in the ICU.  I am only now wondering how they got me back on that bed from the operating table.  I’m a large woman – I can only imagine the grunts of effort it took to get me moved!  I remember asking where Matt was, and asking if my parents had arrived yet.  The nurse assured me that they were here and all three of them were waiting in the ICU waiting room for me.  They would be able to come in once they got me awake and moving.  The nausea returned, as they warned it might, but thankfully I never vomited.  My cramps had subsided almost completely, and I could tell that the bleeding had seriously decreased.  I remember saying lots of things as I attempted to wake up, but I’m sure not much of it made sense.  I only hope I didn’t embarrass myself or give away any of my most personal secrets!  Soon they were getting me into my clean pants and undies that I was (thankfully) wise enough to bring.  Once I was halfway dressed, they had me move to a comfy recliner and Matt and my parents were able to come in.  It was so good to have them all there with me.  We spent some time talking and as the time passed I became more and more alert.  The nurse finally came in to help me dress the rest of the way, and I was allowed to go home.  I was getting in the car around noon.  All in all it was a very quick process.

Mom and Dad went home from the hospital, and Matt took me home and got me into bed.  Buster cuddled with me almost all day, and Matt went to Covington to fill my prescription for pain medication and get some groceries.  I slept for a few hours, and felt pretty decent the rest of the day.  This morning I woke up feeling crampy, but wanted to try to go to at least one church service.  I made it through service at Veedersburg, but the pain medication kicked in midway through and I had to have Matt take me home afterwards.  I hate that he went to Hillsboro alone.  I’m sure it was difficult for him to share our sad news with the congregation without me there.  I have spent most of the day in bed sleeping with a heating pad and a cuddly kitty.

I think I’ll be staying home from work tomorrow.  Hopefully I will be able to go back on Tuesday, but I’m not sure.  My boss is very understanding, but I have a lot to do!  We’ll just have to see how I feel.  Physically I feel drained.  Emotionally I feel…okay.  I hate that this pregnancy ended this way, but if it had to end, I’m glad it’s over.  Does that make sense?  It was so weird this week walking around knowing there was a dead baby in my belly.  It’s so morose.

Someday we’ll have a family of our own.  I’m not sure how or when, but I know that it will happen.

Love to each of you for your prayerful support and your love.  We couldn’t do this without any of you…

>Another one bites the dust…

>Another pregnancy that is.  Crap. What a crappy, crappy day we had yesterday.

Things have been fine – no complications (that we could tell, anyway) at all.  About a week ago I started feeling like I was getting more energy and not feeling as sick.  Many people encouraged me to not worry about the fading of my pregnancy symptoms – that I was just getting closer to the 2nd trimester.  It’s true – it happens for most women that way.  They were right to encourage me. But apparently our little baby had died.

Without boring you with gross details, I became a little concerned yesterday, so I called my doctor.  He said he wasn’t worried, but that his schedule was a little open yesterday, so he had me come on in.  He tried to find the heartbeat, but couldn’t.  Still not worried, he sent me for an ultrasound so we could get some peace of mind.  We went for the ultrasound, and were devastated to see our little baby there – no movement, no heartbeat, nothing. Just laying there like a dead baby in a balloon or something.  It was horrible.  I will never get that picture out of my mind.  We went back to the doctor, sobbed and made plans to have a DNC next week.  Not looking forward to that surgery at all.  I have only been put under once, and that was when my wisdom teeth were removed.  Not only will I be out, but the procedure will be much more – ahem – INVASIVE this time.  Ick…

I feel awful.  Physically I feel fine, but emotionally I feel awful.  If we had the means and wherewithal to pack up and move far, far away, I think we might.  I want to run away from all the sideways, half-smile condolences we’ll be getting over and over and over again now.  The hugs and the “I know it’s going to happen for you” and the “next time don’t tell everyone so early” comments.  I am barely handling my own grief – I can’t stand to have to handle everyone else’s too.

The first miscarriage was covered in peace – for a time anyway.  This one just feels raw.  Unfair.  I feel foolish for letting my body trick me once again into believe that we might be getting to have children.  I feel foolish for letting myself get excited, even though I am well aware of my history.  I feel like we are becoming “those people” who never have kids and who spoil their nieces and nephews rotten.  Not that “those people” are bad or anything – far from it.  I know many of “those people” who are my favorite people on the planet.  It’s just not what I want!

I look at my husband and I marvel at the amazing man that he is.  I know that he would be a fantastic father.  I long to be able to give that gift to him, but so far I have been very incapable of doing so.  It just hurts.  It hurts beyond words.

So that’s where we are.  I’m not sure how this is going to go for us.  I have a feeling this grieving period might be a doozy.  I’m just so angry about it.  I’m trying to stay distracted, but that will only put off the pain for so long, you know?

I’m sure my writing will fall by the wayside for a bit.  Just when I was getting better about it…

Thanks for your love and your prayers and your sideways half-smiles.  I know they mean you care for us.  Forgive me if I just can’t receive them well right now…