To Home School or Not to Home School - That is the Question

Mason started Kindergarten this year. I admit, I wasn't ready and I was dreading it. I've been privileged to be able to spend each and every day with my little man since he came home from the hospital (with the exception of 5 days a few years ago when I went home for my father's funeral). I was suffering from separation anxiety just at the thought of him being gone from 8-3 every day. He couldn't wait to go to school though. He LOVED preschool and was excited about starting Kindergarten.

Due to the way the preschool program is run here, he attended preschool at a different elementary school than our neighborhood school. Since he was in preschool for 2 years, we knew the transition would be hard for him so we opted to have him attend summer school so he could get used to his new school. He seemed to really enjoy it and wasn't really impressed when summer school was over and he had to wait a month to start the school year. He was pretty excited the first day and even the first week. Unfortunately, that enthusiasm has waned over the last few weeks.

Shane and I were concerned that Mason wasn't quite ready for Kindergarten but we didn't really have a choice. He is very dependent on adults still for a lot of daily tasks, i.e. eating, dressing, toileting, etc. We've tried to help him become more independent but he still struggles with fine motor skills so he can't fasten buttons or open containers and he needs constant reminders to go to the bathroom. He also needs frequent prompting and redirection when completing tasks. When we met for his transition meeting last April, it was decided by his entire team that he should be mainstreamed and not placed in an ISEC classroom, or self contained classroom. Given the progress he made in preschool, Shane and I agreed with this decision. Now, we aren't so sure.

At the end of the first week of school, Mason's teacher asked if she could meet with me to talk about tools that worked well for him in preschool. I met with her early the second week of school and we discussed the things that had worked the previous 2 years, i.e. a picture schedule, a fidget toy for circle time, and an independent work center to help him work on being more independent. His teacher also shared with me that he was a bit overwhelmed by aspects of the day and that she and the resource teacher were working together to help Mason transition a little easier into his new environment and new routine. By the end of the third week of school, Shane and I had a conference with the teacher, resource teacher and principal to discuss our concerns about Mason's level of independence and to ensure that his needs were being met due to some concerns we had regarding lunch. During that conference, the principal requested that we have another IEP meeting to adjust Mason's goals. She actually beat us to the punch because we had planned on asking for an IEP meeting ourselves. Although most of our concerns were addressed during the conference, we still felt a bit uneasy. The school is obviously trying very hard to help Mason be successful and to meet his needs, but we have been seriously considering homeschooling him for several weeks now.

We are concerned that Mason just isn't ready to be mainstreamed and that public school in general may not be the right environment for him. Last week he began crying as soon as I parked the car in the school parking lot. On Friday afternoon, he told me that he didn't want to go to school, that he didn't like it anymore. This morning when I went into his room to get him up and get him ready for school, he crawled into my lap in his rocking chair and clung to me like he was scared of something. I asked him if he wanted to go to school and he emphatically told me no. When I asked him why, all he could say was "because." I also received an email from the resource teacher a little while ago that he is off task today and throwing things and drumming on the table top. We have been worried that he is experiencing sensory overload at school and now I am almost certain of it.

I know we won't have a lot of support from friends and family if we do ultimately decide to homeschool. The main concern everyone will have is that Mason won't get the socialization he needs or that he'll miss out on all the things that go hand-in-hand with attending school. I can assure everyone that he will get the socialization he needs. We know of at least three families that homeschool their children, one of which has 7 children ranging in age from 3 months to 18 years old. As far as I'm concerned, she's an expert on homeschooling! Also, we've found a local homeschool group who organizes gatherings 3-5 times a week. Mason will have plenty of opportunities to socialize!!

As to all the things he'll miss out on if he doesn't attend public school, in my opinion, that's a moot point. Given his fine motor and gross motor difficulties, he's already going to miss out on a lot regardless of whether or not he attends public school. He can't participate in sports and I highly doubt he's going to give a hoot about dances or the prom. His interests don't coincide with most of his peers now. Why should we force him to participate in activities that he's not interested in just so he can have the same experiences we did growing up? We want him to enjoy his childhood and his teenage years, not be miserable because we forced him to conform to what society expects him to be or do.

Despite what the general consensus is, school isn't the right fit for EVERY child. For some, especially those that are special needs, it can be detrimental. From what I have seen in the last few weeks, it's already starting to take a toll on Mason. He is struggling academically. I've been reviewing what he's learned each day and he doesn't seem to be learning much. Everyone who knows Mason knows that he is extremely smart and he is like a sponge when it comes to learning. Something is getting in the way of that though. His behavior is an indication as well. He's always been a really happy little boy, but lately he's been more aggravated and frustrated than happy. If school is the contributing factor, then it is our job as his parents to do what's best for him. If that means homeschooling him, then so be it. I look at it from this perspective, college isn't the right fit for everyone. Some choose to simply enter the workforce right after graduating high school while others choose to join the military or attend vocational school. If college isn't a one-size-fits-all solution, then why should public school be considered so?

This is not a decision that we are making lightly. We have been struggling with it for almost a month now. We are weighing the pros and cons, doing extensive research, and looking for support groups as well. We realize that if we choose to homeschool, we will need help from others as well as a great deal of support. Our plan is to keep Mason in school for as long as possible and hope that things gradually get better. If not though, we are going to have to do what's best for him. We will wait it out and see how things go for the next couple months. If we do make the decision to homeschool; however, then we plan to start sometime after the first of the year. We have to notify the state of our intention first, as well as the school, and I will obviously have a lot of planning to do. It is not the ideal solution and we are going to do everything in our power to give Mason the most "normal" childhood we can but the reality is, he isn't a typically developing child. We can't force him to comform to the norm. It would be like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. Mason deserves nothing but the best, including his education.

Taking a Leap of Faith

Life has a funny way of taking you down paths you never envisioned. As a young girl and teenager, I certainly never imagined that I would have the experiences I have had or face the numerous obstacles that I have faced. I celebrated my 36th birthday about a month and a half ago, and I can honestly say that if someone had told me years ago that my life would have taken the twists and turns that it has taken, I would have had trouble believing it. After all, everything was supposed to unfold according to my perfect plan!

I knew that I wanted to be a Mommy even from a very young age. I always had a doll of some sort. I even had one that wet herself and one that cried. My poor mother hated the latter. I've heard the story from both my brothers, as well as close family friends, about the time that that doll cried incessantly in the middle of the night. She had a pacifier and apparently it fell out while I was sleeping with the doll clutched in my arms. My mother searched all over my room but wasn't able to find it anywhere. Finally, she realized that all she had to do to make it stop was take the batteries out! Needless to say, I didn't get any more dolls that cried after that :) I did have quite a collection of Cabbage Patch dolls though. I loved playing house and couldn't wait to grow up and be a wife and mommy. While I have most certainly accomplished that goal, it wasn't easy.

The obstacles Shane and I faced trying to conceive, followed by my high risk pregnancy, the extreme premature birth of our twins, and the subsequent death of Madelynn, as well as my recent miscarriage have all taken their toll. I can say with utmost certainty that I was not prepared for ANY of it but at the same time all of those experiences have made me who I am today. As much as I miss her and ache to hold her in my arms, I wouldn't trade the three months that we had with Maddie for anything. Losing her has caused both Shane and I to appreciate the time we have with Mason that much more. I cherish each day that I spend with him and look forward to watching him grow, although I must admit I'm having some growing pains at the moment even if he isn't!! He started Kindergarten this past week and it was very hard for me to let go, and not just because he's growing up so fast. I am a former teacher myself and it's just so strange being the parent and not the teacher.

I never really saw myself as the stay-at-home mommy type. I grew up watching my single mother work very hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. She encouraged me to go to college and make a career for myself. In all honesty, encouraged might not be the appropriate word. To say that she expected me to go to college would be more accurate. I loved learning and was very determined to do well in school. Once I graduated, I couldn't wait to start teaching. It took about 6 months to get a teaching job but I absolutely LOVED it.

Despite the fact that a teacher's salary is quite paltry, the intrinsic rewards are bountiful. I relished in the moments when my students finally grasped a concept after struggling at the outset. I used to liken it to seeing a light bulb turn on because their faces would light up with pride. It was also extremely rewarding to be an integral part in making them life long readers. I made it a point to read to my students on a daily basis and I loved doing my best to make the stories come alive for them. I had several colleagues and parents tell me that it was a sight to see me reading to my class because my students were mesmerized. I truly believe that teaching, like so many other professions, is a calling and I couldn't help but answer the call. I gave up my career in heartbeat though when Mason came home from the hospital. He needed me, and so I became a stay-at-home mommy.

Now that Mason is in school full-time, he doesn't need me as much any more. I had always planned to go back to the classroom when he started school but now that that time has arrived, I'm not quite ready. I wound up enjoying being a mommy so much that I let my education, and subsequently my teaching license, fall by the wayside. My license expired about 2.5 years ago, and in order to get it renewed and re-enter the classroom I will have to jump through hoops and get my Master's degree. While I am definitely not afraid of a little hard work, I'm not really prepared to go back to school just yet. I tend to become quite engrossed in my studies and I don't want my pursuit of higher learning to take over my life. Shane isn't quite sure he wants me to re-enter the teaching field either because he knows how dedicated I am and he doesn't want to lose his wife or for Mason to lose his mommy! I still haven't decided for sure yet whether or not I'm going to go back to teaching. I still feel the call but I also feel strongly that we are meant to add another member to our family although I'm still not sure how that is supposed to happen.

At first I was convinced that IVF was the path we were meant to take in our quest to parent a second child. I was ecstatic to be able to welcome a baby early next year. While I was right about us pursing fertility treatments again, I now know it was for a different reason than what I originally thought. As painful and unforgettable as my miscarriage has been, I strongly believe that it happened for a reason. We needed to close a chapter in our lives and now we have done so. Our snow babies are no longer in limbo. We gave them a chance at life but God decided that their place was with Him and their big sister in heaven. I was then convinced that we were meant to add to our family through adoption. Shane and I have both wondered for years now if God had been steering us in that direction but we had been ignoring him. Once again, I was wrong in my assumption.

We've contacted two separate adoption agencies and while the initial contact was positive, we've reached a dead end with both. One agency basically discriminates against couples who don't practice their specific faith. The other agency originally told us to contact them this month to sign up for an information meeting; however, when I contacted them early this week I was informed that they are no longer accepting new couples into their program. Apparently, they have seen a national decline in adoptions and they don't want to further limit the chances of the couples already in their program. While I understand their logic, it would have been nice to know this 3 months ago when I first contacted them. I am a firm believer that God guides us towards the paths we are meant to take in life. Given the fact that roadblocks keep popping up, we are obviously not meant to adopt, at least not right now or through an agency. I'm starting to think that God has another plan for us, one that we have been extremely resistant to until now.

Shane and I have discussed foster care multiple times over the years but we always felt that it wasn't the right fit for us. During the 7 years that we struggled to conceive we just couldn't fathom the possibility of welcoming a child into our home only to have him/her returned to his/her biological parents. We were already hurting with our failed attempts to get pregnant, and the thought of finally bringing a child home only to have him/her taken away again was just too much to bear. We ruled out foster care as a viable option for building our family. We've reconsidered it a few times in the past couple of years, but each time we discuss it we immediately dismiss it again. Our reasoning has changed though; now we have Mason to consider.

Although we know there are many children in foster care who deserve a loving, caring environment to grow up in, we're afraid of bringing a child into our home who has the potential to harm Mason. Some of those precious little ones have been exposed to abuse and he can't really defend himself and, more importantly, he can't communicate well enough to tell us if he is being hurt. In addition to that, we don't know how to explain to Mason that the child who he considered to be his brother or sister now has to go back to his or her biological parents. He has a hard time with change and we don't want turn his world upside down repeatedly. We also don't want to cause him to lose any more siblings. As I said before though, I am a firm believer in God sending us signs. I've had numerous people suggest that we look into foster care and it has made me stop and think.

A very dear friend recently suggested something that neither Shane nor I had considered until now. Children that are older and stronger than Mason and could potentially harm him are not the only ones in the system. It never occurred to us before that we could specify that we can only foster children younger than him. This dear friend also pointed out that Mason has in fact lost two siblings but that we've explained things to him and he seems to understand and accept it. I guess she essentially blew our excuses out of the water!! Shane and I discussed things today and we've decided that we're going to look into foster care. We know there are no guarantees and that we may not ever have the opportunity to adopt any children that we foster. We've learned the hard way though, that there are no guarantees in life and that we have to live in the moment and cherish each and every day we have together as a family. We have more than enough love to spare and there are way too many children out there who have experienced little, if any, love at all. We are both still apprehensive but if foster care is indeed the path that God has chosen for us, he will take care of us.

PTSD - It Doesn't Just Affect Veterans of War

I've never admitted it to anyone before, but a few years ago when I sought help, my therapist said he thought I had PTSD. He was a social worker so I don't really know if he could officially diagnose me with it or not; however, he treated me for it, nevertheless.

It may seem a bit extreme but given the events that Shane and I experienced surrounding Madelynn and Mason's birth, the roller coaster ride that is the NICU, and Madelynn's subsequent death, it definitely fits. Some of what I was experiencing could be contributed to post partum depression, but there was definitely much more to it than that. I lost interest in the things that I normally enjoyed doing. I no longer found joy in knitting or scrapbooking or reading. I had a really hard time focusing on things. I'd find myself rereading the same sentence in a book (if I even felt like reading) at least a dozen times because I just couldn't stay focused. I became extremely forgetful. I'd forget things that Shane said to me just hours or minutes before or I'd forget what I went to get as soon as I entered a room. I wasn't hungry most of the time. I wasn't getting much sleep and when I did sleep I was having terrible nightmares and reliving Madelynn's death. I would wake up crying because the dreams were so vivid. I wasn't just reliving things in my dreams either. There were times during the day where I would lose several minutes at a time because I was reliving various experiences from the pregnancy, delivery and NICU. About the only thing I WAS doing was taking care of Mason. I was a bit paranoid and overprotective though. I rarely let him out of my sight, I was a complete germaphobe, and I would check on him multiple times during nap time and at night while he slept to make sure he was still breathing. He was my reason for living; however, I wasn't the mother that he deserved, nor the wife that Shane deserved. I finally admitted to myself that I needed to get some help.

I went to therapy for several months. At first it was really hard for me to talk about things. My poor therapist. He must have felt like a dentist since he was practically pulling teeth!! After about a month of sessions, he recommended a book on grief and he started a specific treatment program with me that he thought would be highly beneficial. I can't remember what it was called but it was definitely effective. Through the course of the treatment I realized one day that not only had I suffered PTSD from Madelynn's death, but also from my mother's death. That session was very eye opening for both my therapist and myself.

Shortly after that breakthrough, my therapist felt that I had made enough progress to reduce my sessions to just once a month. Life got pretty hectic around that time and I ended up stopping therapy altogether. Unfortunately, there is no cure for PTSD and various things can trigger it's recurrence. Once again, in the last several months, I have been experiencing all of the above mentioned symptoms. I'm pretty sure it was triggered by my miscarriage. I have been hesitant to seek help again because I am afraid that if I am officially diagnosed or put on medication, that it will crush our dreams of adopting. Shane helped me to see though that if I don't get help, we'll likely never be able to adopt anyway. If I can't function, how will I be able to take care of myself, Mason and a baby? I want more than anything to give Mason a baby brother or sister but I need to focus on myself first so that I can be the best woman, wife and most importantly, mother to Mason and his future brother or sister that I can possibly be!!

Many of you are probably wondering why I'm putting this out there in the blogosphere. As I've said before, the whole point of this blog is to help others. In the last 14 years or so I have felt alone more often than not due to experiences that most of my friends and family couldn't fathom. I know I am not alone though. There are others out there that have had similar experiences to my own. If by sharing my story and my struggles I am able to help even one person, then I have accomplished what I set out to do. No one should ever have to feel like they are alone.

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes . . .

I know some people will most likely think I'm crazy, but I truly believe that our loved ones who've passed on come to visit us, sometimes through our dreams. I had just such a dream the other night. My mother came to me and she told me that she missed me and she loved me. I then saw my daughter Madelynn. Although she was only three months old (thirty eight weeks gestation adjusted) when she passed away, in the dream she appeared to be a bit older. If she were still with us, she would be almost five and a half. She didn't look anywhere near that though; she was maybe six months old. I imagine she appeared to me in that form because that's how I remember her, although, in my dream she was happy and healthy and chubby like a baby should be. She was absolutely beautiful. In addition to Madelynn; however, I also saw two other baby girls. They were both very tiny. I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure my mother was holding one of the baby girls. The other was being held by my friend Wendy. I had known her since Kindergarten. She died much too young during my freshman year of college. If her sisters are anything like Madelynn, then my mother most definitely has her hands full with her grand daughters and she needs all the help she can get!!

This dream was very significant for me because now I know without a doubt that my baby girls are safe and sound with my mother. I've always known that Maddie was with my mom, but seeing my other two daughters with her also was very comforting. My husband and I didn't know the gender of the two embryos that were thawed for our FET cycle. On the day of the transfer, we made the very difficult decision to transfer only one embryo because the other was badly damaged in the thawing process. We wanted to give the healthier embryo the best chance possible at implantation. We were given a picture of the embryo that was transferred and right next to it was a pink "cloud." My husband noticed it immediately and pointed it out to me. After seeing that, we were both convinced that it was a girl. We never did see the other embryo and we didn't have testing done on either to determine gender.

In my dream, all three girls had dark hair. They resembled each other quite a bit as well, just as most siblings do. My husband swears that Madelynn would have been a redhead like me, but the locks of hair that we have from the NICU are distinctly dark. We were affectionately calling the baby that I miscarried Little Bean since that's what the embryo looked like in the picture we were given. Both Little Bean and her sister were absolutely beautiful, just like Madelynn. When I awoke from the dream, I felt at peace for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, that feeling was short-lived.

I naively thought that I had accepted my miscarriage and the fact that I will never again be pregnant or be able to carry a baby to term. There I go thinking again. I am no where near acceptance. I had such high expectations for the pregnancy. I truly believed that my husband and I would be able to bond over the baby the way most couples are able to do. We weren't able to do so with Madelynn and Mason due to the fact that my husband was deployed to Iraq when I was only seven weeks pregnant. He was then rushed home a month before his deployment was scheduled to end because I was on the verge of a late-term miscarriage. We were able to see numerous ultrasounds, and hear the babies heartbeats during the five weeks that I was in the hospital on bed rest before their delivery; however, it was an extremely stressful time. I wouldn't exactly say that we bonded over our babies. I also had high hopes that with careful monitoring and progesterone supplementation, I would be able to deliver a healthy, full-term baby and that it would somehow help me heal emotionally from the trauma of delivering the twins at only twenty-four weeks gestation and watching them fight for their lives day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. Once again, I was mistaken. If anything, the loss of Little Bean and her sister has only caused the pain to be magnified.

I wish with my whole heart that I could find a way to go back in time and prevent Madelynn and Mason from being born so early. I would give anything to have them both here, happy and healthy and thriving. I also wish both embryos had successfully survived the thaw and that we had been able to transfer both and welcome both baby girls into our family. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Madelynn, Little Bean or their sister and wonder how much richer our lives would be with them all here with us. I know in my heart that one day our family will be reunited in Heaven. Until then, I can only hope that I am granted the privilege of seeing them in my dreams as often as possible.

A Different Path

I recently posted something on Facebook that caused quite a stir. The Your eCard pics have been showing up all over Facebook and Pinterest. I think the majority of them are quite hysterical; however, there was one I saw recently on Pinterest that said, "I hear you. Raising kids & running a house keep me busy too. I also have this little gig on the side called a full time job." I realize that humor is subjective, but I found this quite offensive. I felt that it was derogatory and belittling to stay at home moms. A friend mentioned a bumper sticker that she saw which said, "You've never worked unless you've been a stay at home mom." To me this is just as derogatory and belittling to working mothers. Making someone feel like less of a mother or less of a woman based on working status is just simply wrong. Many women, if given the choice, would gladly trade places. I have several family members and friends who would give anything to be able to stay at home with their children, but circumstances simply don't allow for it. Unfortunately, I think some women are bitter and resentful towards those who are afforded that opportunity. The same holds true for some stay at home moms, though. Not every stay at home mom wishes to stay home. They too are sometimes forced to do so by circumstances beyond their control. I've met a few woman who were forced to give up their careers. Ironically, some of these women are also bitter and resentful towards women who are able to work outside the home.

I've never understood why women feel the need to prove they are better than one another. It happens all too often though, especially when it comes to bearing and raising children. For example, there are some women who believe they are better than others simply because they were able to deliver their children via natural childbirth instead of a Cesarean section. Once again, I'm sure given half the chance, many women would gladly trade places with each other if circumstances allowed it. The whole point of my original post on Facebook was that women need to stop trying to prove that they are better than one another and simply support each other. Motherhood is one of the hardest jobs and therefore we each need ALL the support we can get.

Through the course of the "debate" that resulted from my original post, a comment was made that I seem to think that I have it harder than others. At first I was extremely offended by this, but after some careful reflection, I can see how it might sometimes come across that I feel that way. I assure you, I do not. I simply face different challenges than the average parent given the fact that I do have a special needs child. While most parents are busy chauffeuring their children to a multitude of extra curricular activities, I instead am chauffeuring my son to a multitude of doctors appointments and therapy sessions. It's not necessarily harder, just different. Also, while the average parent is busy helping their children with homework, instead my husband and I are busy trying to help our son learn how to simply communicate. Again, not necessarily harder, just different.

Parenting a special needs child has it's own unique challenges. Milestones are different. Dreams for your child's future need to be altered. Sometimes, extreme lifestyle changes need to be made. Each of us has our own journey to make in this lifetime and as a result, we often take different paths. The reality is that for some that path is, in fact, harder in some ways than others. It doesn't make that person any better than anyone else, just different. That being said, truth be told, my path has been a bit harder than some.

My road to motherhood was a lot bumpier than that of most of my friends and family. In all honestly; however, I am extremely grateful that very few of my friends and family share in my experiences. Infertility sucks. Threatened miscarriage is not pleasant in the least. Delivering a baby that is just barely viable is extremely terrifying. The NICU can be a complete nightmare. Losing a child, in my opinion, is one of the worst things that can ever happen to a parent. It leaves your heart and soul scarred for life. (Unfortunately, I've experienced that loss from another perspective given the fact that I've also lost my parents.) Miscarriage, no matter how far into the pregnancy, is heartbreaking. Raising a child who is on the Autism Spectrum can be very daunting. I realize the fact that I don't hide any of these things can sometimes come across as me drawing attention to myself and alluding to my life being harder; however, I don't share all of my experiences to garner pity. I do so in an attempt to reach out to others and hopefully help them to realize that they are not alone.

Infertility, miscarriage, and infant loss are all taboo topics. People are uncomfortable talking about them and as a result too many people suffer in silence. I myself am not even able to talk to my closest family members about my daughter or my miscarriage because they just don't know how to cope with either subject. In addition, there are still a multitude of misconceptions surrounding Autism and as a result parents often don't know where to turn to for support. I know I am only one person but it is my hope that by being vocal about all of these topics, I will be able to help in some small way. If I'm only able to reach one person and help them to feel less alone in this world, then my mission is complete. I am not any better or worse than anyone else. I simply have a different path to follow and I am trying to do so with as much dignity and grace as I can, unfortunately as my mother would often remind me, Grace is not my middle name. Sometimes I unintentionally say or do things that hurt or offend others. I apologize. I am simply trying to be the best woman, wife, mother, sister, cousin, and friend that I can be. I had the absolute best role model in the whole wide world and I can only hope that as she watches over me from Heaven, she is proud of the woman and mother I have become.

Baby Bump Envy

It's been five weeks today since we did the embryo transfer. By my calculations, I would've been 8 weeks pregnant tomorrow. I'm sure over the next year I'm going to constantly be thinking about our little bean and wondering how far along in my pregnancy I would've been for various ocassions and holidays. It's hard not to think about things like that, especially considering the fact that everywhere I go, I'm bombared by the sight of pregnant bellies. Church, the grocery store, taking my little man to therapy, the mall, the park, etc. It's kind of like when you're considering buying a new car. Suddenly, everywhere you look, it seems like everyone is driving the car you want. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't envious of all those baby bumps.

I've had several family members and friends tell me that maybe we weren't meant to have any more children; that maybe our son was meant to be an only child. It may sound extreme, but the only thing I can compare this to would be telling someone who's lost a limb that maybe they weren't meant to have all four limbs; that they shouldn't bother getting a prosthetic limb. I'm sure am amputee wouldn't appreciate hearing that sentiment anymore than a couple who wishes to have another child wants to hear that they should simply be content with one. I realize that many people simply don't know what to say when they encounter a couple who is dealing with infertility or has suffered a miscarriage; however, sometimes it's best to simply say, "I'm sorry." My husband and I want more than anything to give our son a sibling. I don't think that makes us selfish. Many people have more than one child and no one frowns upon their desire to expand their families. Why should couples who face infertility be treated any differently?

We've spent the last few weeks researching adoption laws here in our state, as well as reading various books written by adoption industry professionals who have adopted children themselves. The books have been particularly helpful because they've helped us consider things that we hadn't before, for example, do we want to specify gender, are we willing to adopt a baby that was exposed to drugs in utero, etc. We still have a few questions that we haven't come to a consensus on, but I know we will as we go through the adoption process. I initiated that process today by emailing the agency that we have chosen to work with. Now the waiting begins. I should get an email back in about a week or so and then we have to attend an information meeting which is actually more of a question and answer session. We'll find out more about adoption in general, as well as the specifics of adopting through that agency. Once we complete that we will need to fill out an application and wait to see if the agency feels we are a good fit.

We're about to embark on a journey into the great unknown but I know in my heart that we are on the right path. While I know I will still occasionally be envious of all of those pregnant bellies that I seem to be surrounded by wherever I go, it no longer matters that I won't be the one with the baby bump. In fact, lately, when I encounter a baby bump, I've begun to wonder if maybe that woman is the birth mother of our future son or daughter. All that matters now is finding the little one out there somewhere who is waiting to be welcomed into our family.

Lost

As I sit her typing this tonight, lost is the only word I can think of to sum up how I feel. I had a blood test on Monday morning to determine if the embryo transfer from 10 days earlier was a success. I had taken a home pregnancy test the day before, as well as the morning of the blood test, both of which were positive. After waiting for almost 5 hours for the call from the clinic, I was told that while I was technically pregnant, my HCG level was only 10.8. Since I would be exactly 4 weeks pregnant that day, the number was extremely low; it should have been around 30 by then. The doctor told me to be cautiously optimistic and I was scheduled for another blood test tomorrow morning. If the number has not increased by then I will have had what is called a chemical pregnancy, which is an early miscarriage that occurs before 5 weeks of pregnancy. Based on the physical symptoms I have experienced since Friday, I am 99.9% sure that I have in fact suffered a chemical pregnancy.

Since receiving the call, my faith has wavered significantly and I have struggled to understand why God led us down this path. I know I said in my previous post that I knew there was a very real possibility that he could be giving us an opportunity to close a chapter in our lives. I guess what I'm really trying to understand is what lesson we are supposed to take away from this loss. We have already suffered the loss of one child. What more could we possibly learn by losing another? Over the last several days I have been filled with anger and resentment and frustration and jealousy and have slowly begun turning away from God.

I can already hear the cliches that people will try to comfort me with: That which doesn't kill you can only make you stronger. Everything happens for a reason. God doesn't close a door without first opening a window. I have heard all of these in one form or another countless times over the past 13 years or so. I can't possibly comprehend what the reason could be, how this loss is going to make me any stronger, or what window God could open at this point.

I have several friends, both lifelong and a few that I've only known for a short while, that have told me that I am amazing and one of the strongest women they know. While I am flattered by their perceptions of me, I must say I am not as strong as I appear to be. I am broken and I don't know that I will ever truly heal. Losing this little life has simply caused the whole in my heart to grow larger. I have repeatedly asked God to take away my heartache, but it seems instead that it just keeps multiplying. I will find a way to pick up the pieces and move on with my life simply because I must. My sweet little miracle man needs me and I can't bear the thought of letting him down. He fought so valiantly to stay with his daddy and I, and it is our duty to do everything in our power to be the best parents we can to him. He is one of the many reasons we wanted to have another child. He deserves to have a sibling to grow up with and he wants so badly to have a baby brother or sister.

We considered adoption before we pursued IVF the first time, and we had already decided before this last attempt that we would pursue it again if it was not a success. We've both wondered several times if God had been telling us to take that path and we just refused to listen. It will take some time for us to process this loss and grieve for what could have been, but hopefully we will be able to overcome our fears of adoption and find a way to complete our family. I'm confident that we will know when the time is right to pursue that path, if it is indeed what God has in store for us.

For now I need to brace myself for yet another blood test and phone call tomorrow and then pray that I am able to find my way back to God so that he can reveal his plan to me.