This is my 1000th post. I remember when I got here and thought that was something. Lately, I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the different moments we've had and thought I would share how I started blogging.
After we were diagnosed with infertility my whole world unraveled. Everything I had done up to that point in my life was in preparation to be the best mother ever to walk the face of the earth. I babysat extensively, I helped parent my siblings, I fostered a strong sense of self discipline and love, I graduated with a Bachelors Degree in Human Development and Family Studies, I married a man who would be a wonderful father, we bought a house, and we were debt free. But with that one diagnosis everything changed. The very reason for everything I had planned and worked for was gone and my life meant nothing without children.
It was a dark time made only darker by the moral conflicts that came with our dim prospects for bringing children into our family. I always believed children would come quickly and easily to us because we did everything "right" so Heavenly Father would, of course, give us an army of children to raise in righteousness with daily prayer, scripture study, fasting, and Family Home Evenings. Inevitable missions would be served followed by temple marriages and I would love Mother's Day because on that day my children would gather around and call me blessed.
But that is not what happened.
Heavenly Father's parental path for me has required blood, sweat, tears, money, humility, and immense amounts of sacrifice.
Ultimately, after failed fertility treatments Steve insisted we pursue adoption. It was a difficult process and after being with an agency for a year with no interest in us, we changed agencies. Unfortunately, we unknowingly connected with a corrupt and immoral adoption agency. My heart still aches for M's birth mom because I do not think she received the emotional support from the agency or myself because they insisted on introducing fear into the process. I wish I had done things differently for that incredible Angel who gave M life and hope she can someday forgive me for my ignorance.
When M was two, we returned to the original adoption agency who strongly suggested we create a blog for prospective birth parents. I am a very private person and did not want to do that until it was absolutely necessary. A few months later we were matched with a birth mom who was due in three months. I was determined to do things differently and opened up my heart and home to her. We became close and she even allowed me to be present during her child's birth where I was privileged to cut the umbilical cord. Two days after delivery, she changed her mind and chose to parent. I was devastated, but on the flip side I did not blame her for wanting to parent her child. My only deep and abiding regret is that she included us in her journey. As a Latter-Day Saint, we are strongly taught to turn to the Lord during trials and He will help us bear our burdens with ease. We are also told we should endure to the end and if we "endure it well", God will exalt us on high. My feelings and emotions were complicated because I was not the parent so who was I to grieve? So I didn't. I cried three times. Instead I chose to smile and said it was part of "God's plan". (Another LDS catchphrase.)
Three months later I was working when I got called into a situation. A baby had been born dead 24 hours earlier and the mother was refusing to allow anyone to take the baby from her. The baby was starting to decay and hospital staff had tried everything to explain to the mother that they needed the baby now. She refused to listen so they wanted me to talk to her, take her dead baby from her, promise to take care of it, and walk the baby to the hospital morgue.
I walked to the office door to complete this horrific assignment, but instead experienced my very first anxiety attack that left me so sick I had to call one of my coworkers to take over and I went home early. All the pent up sorrow I had with infertility and our failed adoption consumed me and I could hardly get through the day. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. The next year was a blur as daily, crippling anxiety attacks threatened the life I had with Steve and M. I knew the reason my grief was so overwhelming was because I had suppressed it until it exploded, refusing to be controlled any longer. I promised myself if I ever found myself in a heartbreaking situation again, I would allow myself to feel all the emotions in real time, no matter how awful and I would fiercely defend myself to anyone who told me to "get over it". Oh...and any well meaning Christian who said anything remotely suggesting that "others have it so much worse" than me or to "count my blessings" or "why can't you be grateful for the ones you have" or have more "faith" in "God's plan" or His "timing" would get blasted.
Eventually, I healed enough where we were able to consider adoption again and this time around I decided to start this blog so prospective birth parents could see who we really are. It also gave M's birth mom an opportunity to see her child whenever she wished. And later, it allowed the boy's birth mom the same opportunity.
So here we are...1000 posts later. Truthfully, I do not like blogging. Never have and most likely never will, but I do it for my children and the parents who gave them life so they can see the thousands of precious moments I never take for granted.
After we were diagnosed with infertility my whole world unraveled. Everything I had done up to that point in my life was in preparation to be the best mother ever to walk the face of the earth. I babysat extensively, I helped parent my siblings, I fostered a strong sense of self discipline and love, I graduated with a Bachelors Degree in Human Development and Family Studies, I married a man who would be a wonderful father, we bought a house, and we were debt free. But with that one diagnosis everything changed. The very reason for everything I had planned and worked for was gone and my life meant nothing without children.
It was a dark time made only darker by the moral conflicts that came with our dim prospects for bringing children into our family. I always believed children would come quickly and easily to us because we did everything "right" so Heavenly Father would, of course, give us an army of children to raise in righteousness with daily prayer, scripture study, fasting, and Family Home Evenings. Inevitable missions would be served followed by temple marriages and I would love Mother's Day because on that day my children would gather around and call me blessed.
But that is not what happened.
Heavenly Father's parental path for me has required blood, sweat, tears, money, humility, and immense amounts of sacrifice.
Ultimately, after failed fertility treatments Steve insisted we pursue adoption. It was a difficult process and after being with an agency for a year with no interest in us, we changed agencies. Unfortunately, we unknowingly connected with a corrupt and immoral adoption agency. My heart still aches for M's birth mom because I do not think she received the emotional support from the agency or myself because they insisted on introducing fear into the process. I wish I had done things differently for that incredible Angel who gave M life and hope she can someday forgive me for my ignorance.
When M was two, we returned to the original adoption agency who strongly suggested we create a blog for prospective birth parents. I am a very private person and did not want to do that until it was absolutely necessary. A few months later we were matched with a birth mom who was due in three months. I was determined to do things differently and opened up my heart and home to her. We became close and she even allowed me to be present during her child's birth where I was privileged to cut the umbilical cord. Two days after delivery, she changed her mind and chose to parent. I was devastated, but on the flip side I did not blame her for wanting to parent her child. My only deep and abiding regret is that she included us in her journey. As a Latter-Day Saint, we are strongly taught to turn to the Lord during trials and He will help us bear our burdens with ease. We are also told we should endure to the end and if we "endure it well", God will exalt us on high. My feelings and emotions were complicated because I was not the parent so who was I to grieve? So I didn't. I cried three times. Instead I chose to smile and said it was part of "God's plan". (Another LDS catchphrase.)
Three months later I was working when I got called into a situation. A baby had been born dead 24 hours earlier and the mother was refusing to allow anyone to take the baby from her. The baby was starting to decay and hospital staff had tried everything to explain to the mother that they needed the baby now. She refused to listen so they wanted me to talk to her, take her dead baby from her, promise to take care of it, and walk the baby to the hospital morgue.
I walked to the office door to complete this horrific assignment, but instead experienced my very first anxiety attack that left me so sick I had to call one of my coworkers to take over and I went home early. All the pent up sorrow I had with infertility and our failed adoption consumed me and I could hardly get through the day. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. The next year was a blur as daily, crippling anxiety attacks threatened the life I had with Steve and M. I knew the reason my grief was so overwhelming was because I had suppressed it until it exploded, refusing to be controlled any longer. I promised myself if I ever found myself in a heartbreaking situation again, I would allow myself to feel all the emotions in real time, no matter how awful and I would fiercely defend myself to anyone who told me to "get over it". Oh...and any well meaning Christian who said anything remotely suggesting that "others have it so much worse" than me or to "count my blessings" or "why can't you be grateful for the ones you have" or have more "faith" in "God's plan" or His "timing" would get blasted.
Eventually, I healed enough where we were able to consider adoption again and this time around I decided to start this blog so prospective birth parents could see who we really are. It also gave M's birth mom an opportunity to see her child whenever she wished. And later, it allowed the boy's birth mom the same opportunity.
So here we are...1000 posts later. Truthfully, I do not like blogging. Never have and most likely never will, but I do it for my children and the parents who gave them life so they can see the thousands of precious moments I never take for granted.
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