Today is a very special day.
One year ago today, a precious little miracle entered this world and forever changed the lives of so many.
Not a day has gone by that we haven't thought of him, loved him, and given thanks for him.
And not a day has gone by that we've had so much as a single doubt that he is exactly where he is meant to be.
With his FOREVER FAMILY.
We love you to the moon & back, sweet boy.
Happy 1st Birthday!
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Monday, November 21, 2011
Giving Thanks
All has been quiet on the "I love you this much" homefront...well...quite frankly...because all's been quiet on the homefront! And sometimes that is a blissfully wonderful thing!
I was just looking back at my posts from this time last year and cannot believe all that has happened! Literally, a lifetime ago...
It has been almost one year since the blessed event that forever changed the lives of so many. Almost one year since the big transfer. I can honestly say on one hand it seems like just yesterday, and on the other hand, I truly cannot remember our lives "before".
It fills my heart with more joy than words can possibly say to see this beautiful little boy with his parents. To see the love in their eyes for him.
And for this, I am thankful.
This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the immense blessings that have been bestowed upon me, and I am eternally grateful that God led us to this amazing couple and enabled us to unite them with their son.
Happy Thanksgiving!
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder
I was just looking back at my posts from this time last year and cannot believe all that has happened! Literally, a lifetime ago...
It has been almost one year since the blessed event that forever changed the lives of so many. Almost one year since the big transfer. I can honestly say on one hand it seems like just yesterday, and on the other hand, I truly cannot remember our lives "before".
It fills my heart with more joy than words can possibly say to see this beautiful little boy with his parents. To see the love in their eyes for him.
And for this, I am thankful.
This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the immense blessings that have been bestowed upon me, and I am eternally grateful that God led us to this amazing couple and enabled us to unite them with their son.
Happy Thanksgiving!
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder
Saturday, September 24, 2011
An "ouch" moment
All has been quiet on the homefront as of late. Little man continues to do well at home with his mama & daddy and we anxiously await updates and photos as they become available!
Although our story of embryo adoption is one I cherish deeply, I don't find much occasion to share our story with people who aren't already familiar with it. Honestly, it's not something that comes up in casual conversation, and we've tried to keep it amongst those we love and trust. However, I did find myself sharing it with someone for the first time this past week.
There is a girl I work with fairly closely on a daily basis. She is a real sweetheart and has recently become engaged. One day last week, I saw her carrying her phone with her everywhere, which was unusual. She told me her twin nephews were due to be born any minute and she was eagerly awaiting word that they'd arrived.
The babies were her sister's, although they were being carried by a surrogate. She proceeded to tell me the story of how her sister had given birth to a son years ago during her first marriage, but that shortly after she found herself in the position of needing a hysterectomy. Remarried some years later, she and her husband decided they very much wanted to have children of their own. They sought out an anonymous egg donor with physical characteristics similar to her own, and were fortunate enough to have one of their best friends offer to carry the pregnancy.
She was incredibly excited to share this story with me, and in turn, I felt truly honored that she would trust me with such precious information. I decided this was the perfect opportunity to share how our little princess had been conceived (few people know that we became pregnant via IVF), which of course also led to our tale of embryo adoption, and the recent arrival of little man. She had many questions, all of which I answered as honestly as I could. I told her that although the decision was initially a difficult one, we haven't looked back or regretted it for one moment since.
Knowing what a devoted a mother I am, she told me how much she admired my ability to distance myself from the biological connection to the baby, as well as any future children that may result. I admitted that there have been several emotional moments for me, the most profound being the day of his birth, but that for the most part I simply viewed it as a celebration of dear friends having become parents.
She then asked if I noticed any physical similarities between their son and my daughter. I told her that to a degree I did, but that I tried not to go seeking it out intentionally. I admitted that it would most likely become more obvious with the passing of time, and offered to show her some photos on his Caring Bridge page. The moment she saw his face, she grabbed a family photo on my desk of myself, my fiance, and our daughter when she was approximately 3 months old, held it up next to the photo on the monitor, and screamed "Are you kidding me? They're identical!"
I won't lie. It hurt.
I know this statement was made out of pure astonishment and disbelief on her part. In no way did she mean to "point out the obvious" so to speak, nor would she ever intend to hurt my feelings. And it obviously wasn't so much her words that hurt as it was having to acknowledge that she was absolutely right. They could've been twins.
She then asked if we intend to ever "meet" him in person. I explained that part of the reason we chose a family that lived half a country away was to make that as much of a "non-issue" as possible. They are his parents, that is his family. Although we love him with all of our hearts and look forward to the day when that hopefully happens, that is not our decision to make.
I do not regret sharing our story with her. As previously stated, it is one I cherish deeply.
But it did result in one of those "ouch" moments I didn't see coming.
Although our story of embryo adoption is one I cherish deeply, I don't find much occasion to share our story with people who aren't already familiar with it. Honestly, it's not something that comes up in casual conversation, and we've tried to keep it amongst those we love and trust. However, I did find myself sharing it with someone for the first time this past week.
There is a girl I work with fairly closely on a daily basis. She is a real sweetheart and has recently become engaged. One day last week, I saw her carrying her phone with her everywhere, which was unusual. She told me her twin nephews were due to be born any minute and she was eagerly awaiting word that they'd arrived.
The babies were her sister's, although they were being carried by a surrogate. She proceeded to tell me the story of how her sister had given birth to a son years ago during her first marriage, but that shortly after she found herself in the position of needing a hysterectomy. Remarried some years later, she and her husband decided they very much wanted to have children of their own. They sought out an anonymous egg donor with physical characteristics similar to her own, and were fortunate enough to have one of their best friends offer to carry the pregnancy.
She was incredibly excited to share this story with me, and in turn, I felt truly honored that she would trust me with such precious information. I decided this was the perfect opportunity to share how our little princess had been conceived (few people know that we became pregnant via IVF), which of course also led to our tale of embryo adoption, and the recent arrival of little man. She had many questions, all of which I answered as honestly as I could. I told her that although the decision was initially a difficult one, we haven't looked back or regretted it for one moment since.
Knowing what a devoted a mother I am, she told me how much she admired my ability to distance myself from the biological connection to the baby, as well as any future children that may result. I admitted that there have been several emotional moments for me, the most profound being the day of his birth, but that for the most part I simply viewed it as a celebration of dear friends having become parents.
She then asked if I noticed any physical similarities between their son and my daughter. I told her that to a degree I did, but that I tried not to go seeking it out intentionally. I admitted that it would most likely become more obvious with the passing of time, and offered to show her some photos on his Caring Bridge page. The moment she saw his face, she grabbed a family photo on my desk of myself, my fiance, and our daughter when she was approximately 3 months old, held it up next to the photo on the monitor, and screamed "Are you kidding me? They're identical!"
I won't lie. It hurt.
I know this statement was made out of pure astonishment and disbelief on her part. In no way did she mean to "point out the obvious" so to speak, nor would she ever intend to hurt my feelings. And it obviously wasn't so much her words that hurt as it was having to acknowledge that she was absolutely right. They could've been twins.
She then asked if we intend to ever "meet" him in person. I explained that part of the reason we chose a family that lived half a country away was to make that as much of a "non-issue" as possible. They are his parents, that is his family. Although we love him with all of our hearts and look forward to the day when that hopefully happens, that is not our decision to make.
I do not regret sharing our story with her. As previously stated, it is one I cherish deeply.
But it did result in one of those "ouch" moments I didn't see coming.
Monday, July 18, 2011
I gave you life so that you could live it
The above quote is from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". While I never thought I'd find an analogy relating that movie to this situation, I keep hearing Toula's mother's words every time I'm asked how I could make a decision as profound as embryo adoption. We produced these embryos so they might have a chance at life ~ a chance to live.
Little man is still in the NICU, but I'm thrilled to report he is progressing quite well for a peanut born after just 31 weeks in the roaster! His parents have been wonderful enough to set up a Caring Bridge webpage for all of their friends and family to keep updated on his day-to-day progress, and needless to say I pay a visit there at least several times a day! In addition to reading his medical updates and poring over the newly added pictures and videos, I love reading through his guestbook. When I see the number of people who care about this little boy ~ LOVE him ~ it takes my breath away.
It's been a tremendous source of comfort to be able to remain regularly updated on his status. He, like most preemies, has done his job of making sure Mama and Daddy are buckled in tight for the rollercoaster ride that only the NICU can provide! I remember those days well, and can sympathize completely with the emotions I'm sure they are experiencing. Having a baby in the NICU requires a tremendous amount of faith, hope, and trust and I have no doubt that his parents are remaining steadfast. They are my heros in more ways than one.
With each new picture, each new video, my heart continues to burst with love for this little boy. The videos especially have been breathtaking as seeing him as a living, breathing miracle elicits more emotion than I can possibly put into words.
But, I'm incredibly relieved and elated to be able to say that it is a love with which I have complete and total peace. I see his sweet face, and yes, I cannot help but notice physical similarities to his full biological sister. Yet I have to admit, never once have I looked at him and thought he was "mine".
At the risk of sounding incredibly cliche, I caught one of my very favorite movies on tv last week ~ Juno. While my story in no way resembles hers, with the exception of our both wanting the best possible family for our babies, after she has given birth to her son, she makes the statement regarding her baby's adoptive mother that "he was always hers". This is precisely how I feel when looking at him ~ he was ALWAYS hers.
We continue to talk about little man in our family openly, and that too provides me with such a sense of peace. My teenage girls could not be prouder of my decision, and more in love with this little boy. But they too understand that he is in the right place ~ the very best place that he could possibly be.
Our family is complete.
And theirs is just beginning.
Little man is still in the NICU, but I'm thrilled to report he is progressing quite well for a peanut born after just 31 weeks in the roaster! His parents have been wonderful enough to set up a Caring Bridge webpage for all of their friends and family to keep updated on his day-to-day progress, and needless to say I pay a visit there at least several times a day! In addition to reading his medical updates and poring over the newly added pictures and videos, I love reading through his guestbook. When I see the number of people who care about this little boy ~ LOVE him ~ it takes my breath away.
It's been a tremendous source of comfort to be able to remain regularly updated on his status. He, like most preemies, has done his job of making sure Mama and Daddy are buckled in tight for the rollercoaster ride that only the NICU can provide! I remember those days well, and can sympathize completely with the emotions I'm sure they are experiencing. Having a baby in the NICU requires a tremendous amount of faith, hope, and trust and I have no doubt that his parents are remaining steadfast. They are my heros in more ways than one.
With each new picture, each new video, my heart continues to burst with love for this little boy. The videos especially have been breathtaking as seeing him as a living, breathing miracle elicits more emotion than I can possibly put into words.
But, I'm incredibly relieved and elated to be able to say that it is a love with which I have complete and total peace. I see his sweet face, and yes, I cannot help but notice physical similarities to his full biological sister. Yet I have to admit, never once have I looked at him and thought he was "mine".
At the risk of sounding incredibly cliche, I caught one of my very favorite movies on tv last week ~ Juno. While my story in no way resembles hers, with the exception of our both wanting the best possible family for our babies, after she has given birth to her son, she makes the statement regarding her baby's adoptive mother that "he was always hers". This is precisely how I feel when looking at him ~ he was ALWAYS hers.
We continue to talk about little man in our family openly, and that too provides me with such a sense of peace. My teenage girls could not be prouder of my decision, and more in love with this little boy. But they too understand that he is in the right place ~ the very best place that he could possibly be.
Our family is complete.
And theirs is just beginning.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Sweet Boy
That little red blinking light. Anyone out there with a Blackberry knows what I'm talking about. That little red blinking light that notifies you when you have a call. Or a text. Or an email. And when your phone is on vibrate or silent as frequently as mine, it's often times your primary source of notification that you have a new message.
Lately, that red blinking light has become my life's blood.
Blink: Monday afternoon. We found out that Mama was experiencing some pretty bad swelling, and her blood pressure was alarmingly high. After being evaluated, she was diagnosed with preeclampsia and admitted to the hospital. The hope was to get the blood pressure down with some Magnesium, administer the steroid shots to encourage baby's lung development, and as he was breech, deliver via C either Tuesday or Wednesday. Everything seemed to be stabilizing, and baby was looking good with a predicted weight around 3 lbs, 6 oz. We are officially in stand-by mode.
Blink: Tuesday. Things seemed stable in the morning, but by afternoon baby's heart rate started to gradually decellerate. Rather than risk waiting any longer, little man was delivered shortly after 2:00pm CMT, and came into this world weighing 3 lbs, 7 oz and crying. Praise God. I received this email at approximately 4:30 EST. As I was leaving work. Getting on the interstate. I will remember that car ride as long as I live - tears streaming down my face as I sped down the highway, looking at the very first pictures of this sweet boy.
Since Tuesday, the blinks have all started to run together. My phone is attached to my hip constantly. Baby boy is of course in the NICU, and as an parent of a NICU baby knows (I had two ~ my son who is now 9, and Lil Miss last year), it is one giant rollercoaster ride of emotions. It's not day to day, and sometimes not even hour to hour. Often, it's minute to minute. In the past 2 days, he has had highs & lows,but overall is doing very well for a peanut his size. His prognosis is excellent, and he has the two most doting and loving parents in the world there with him every step of the way.
And yet my heart aches. Some moments unbearably.
My heart aches for them. After everything they have been through in the past year. The one year anniversary of the loss of their precious daughter mere days away. And now having been through the scare of the past several days, and having their son lying in the NICU. Dear God, how much is one couple expected to take? I pray that He gives them the strength. I pray for her physical recovery. I THANK GOD that they are the amazing, loving couple that they are, the very best parents that this little boy could possibly ask for.
And my heart aches for him. For that sweet, sweet baby boy. I close my eyes and I see his little face. I see his crazy toes, just like Little Miss. I see his dark, fuzzy hair. I see the soft downy still covering his skin. And I ache for him.
I see what could have been. And it hurts. With every fiber in my being, down to the depths of my soul, it hurts.
I am in a strange kind of limbo right now. And honestly, feeling somewhat selfish for even acknowledging my own feelings, knowing what his parents must be experiencing.
I continue to pray fervently that God watch over him, that he is quick to heal and grow, and is soon home with his family ~ where he belongs. I would ask that you please do the same.
Welcome to the world, sweet boy.
Lately, that red blinking light has become my life's blood.
Blink: Monday afternoon. We found out that Mama was experiencing some pretty bad swelling, and her blood pressure was alarmingly high. After being evaluated, she was diagnosed with preeclampsia and admitted to the hospital. The hope was to get the blood pressure down with some Magnesium, administer the steroid shots to encourage baby's lung development, and as he was breech, deliver via C either Tuesday or Wednesday. Everything seemed to be stabilizing, and baby was looking good with a predicted weight around 3 lbs, 6 oz. We are officially in stand-by mode.
Blink: Tuesday. Things seemed stable in the morning, but by afternoon baby's heart rate started to gradually decellerate. Rather than risk waiting any longer, little man was delivered shortly after 2:00pm CMT, and came into this world weighing 3 lbs, 7 oz and crying. Praise God. I received this email at approximately 4:30 EST. As I was leaving work. Getting on the interstate. I will remember that car ride as long as I live - tears streaming down my face as I sped down the highway, looking at the very first pictures of this sweet boy.
Since Tuesday, the blinks have all started to run together. My phone is attached to my hip constantly. Baby boy is of course in the NICU, and as an parent of a NICU baby knows (I had two ~ my son who is now 9, and Lil Miss last year), it is one giant rollercoaster ride of emotions. It's not day to day, and sometimes not even hour to hour. Often, it's minute to minute. In the past 2 days, he has had highs & lows,but overall is doing very well for a peanut his size. His prognosis is excellent, and he has the two most doting and loving parents in the world there with him every step of the way.
And yet my heart aches. Some moments unbearably.
My heart aches for them. After everything they have been through in the past year. The one year anniversary of the loss of their precious daughter mere days away. And now having been through the scare of the past several days, and having their son lying in the NICU. Dear God, how much is one couple expected to take? I pray that He gives them the strength. I pray for her physical recovery. I THANK GOD that they are the amazing, loving couple that they are, the very best parents that this little boy could possibly ask for.
And my heart aches for him. For that sweet, sweet baby boy. I close my eyes and I see his little face. I see his crazy toes, just like Little Miss. I see his dark, fuzzy hair. I see the soft downy still covering his skin. And I ache for him.
I see what could have been. And it hurts. With every fiber in my being, down to the depths of my soul, it hurts.
I am in a strange kind of limbo right now. And honestly, feeling somewhat selfish for even acknowledging my own feelings, knowing what his parents must be experiencing.
I continue to pray fervently that God watch over him, that he is quick to heal and grow, and is soon home with his family ~ where he belongs. I would ask that you please do the same.
Welcome to the world, sweet boy.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Calm Before the Storm
I realize the phrase "calm before the storm" implies a negative connotation. But in my personal experience, it can also refer to some of the happiest and most cherished moments life has to offer...
For instance, late on Christmas Eve (or early on Christmas morning), I love looking around the living room and soaking up every bit of it. The tree, the lights. The nativity. Almost 20 years worth of homemade ornaments. The snowmen, the angel atop the tree. And the piles and piles of brightly wrapped packages. For that moment, everything is peaceful. Still. But shortly after sunrise (if not before!), the proverbial storm swoops in and what had previously been a near-perfect moment is now transformed into one of those rare moments of utter and complete joy.
Excited screams. Grins from ear to ear. Hugs. Thanks. Laughter. Sometimes ~ if the gift is perfect enough ~ tears...
That's the kinda storm I like. And it's the one brewing thousands of miles away from where I sit.
Now that the 30 week milestone has come and gone, I've found myself almost in my own version of "expectant father" mode. I am constantly checking my phone. Making sure I didn't miss an email, text, or call. Always taking no news as a sign of good news, and blissfully it has been just that. The nursery is ready. Little outfits (I'm sure!) hanging in the closet. And best of all ~ a mommy and daddy just bursting with anticipation and excitement.
The impending arrival of Lil Man is felt silently yet heavily in our home. With Lil Miss becoming busier, chattier, and more toddler-like by the day, I find myself missing those precious baby moments. A soft (and still!) hug. A quiet moment. Those sweet cooing sounds. For us, those have been replaced by flailing, excited hugs (if you can catch her as she's running by!), giant, wet kisses (love those!), and shouts of "Mommy!", "Daddy!", and "Doggie!" The other night, I took out the photo album from her early months. Amazing to think it was only last year....
As I flipped through the pages, I started concentrating intently on her tiny fingers. Her crazy toes. The shape of her eyes. Her little button nose. Her waking and sleeping facial expressions. And wondering. Wondering how much he'll look like her. His biological big sister.
I think that is the reality that has been hitting me more & more. Yes ~ there are also four biological half-siblings. Ones who are older and don't have quite the stake in this that she does. What will she think? How will she feel? Knowing it could have been her? I want to believe ~ have to believe ~ that if we follow the path we discussed, remaining as open and forthcoming as possible, telling her how very much we loved each and every one of those babies and were going to do everything in our power to help them, that she will understand. That she will be grateful knowing she wasn't the only one given a chance at life.
And yes, of course, there is also a part of my heart that sits in waiting. Waiting, upon seeing images of his sweet face, to leave my body forever. Just as it did when I delivered my five children. So a piece of my heart will go to their sweet boy as well.
But I continue to believe, and have steadfast faith, in knowing that the piece of my heart will be just one of many. So many people already loving this little boy, counting the days til his arrival.
And so we wait. And we pray.
I love the calm before a storm.
For instance, late on Christmas Eve (or early on Christmas morning), I love looking around the living room and soaking up every bit of it. The tree, the lights. The nativity. Almost 20 years worth of homemade ornaments. The snowmen, the angel atop the tree. And the piles and piles of brightly wrapped packages. For that moment, everything is peaceful. Still. But shortly after sunrise (if not before!), the proverbial storm swoops in and what had previously been a near-perfect moment is now transformed into one of those rare moments of utter and complete joy.
Excited screams. Grins from ear to ear. Hugs. Thanks. Laughter. Sometimes ~ if the gift is perfect enough ~ tears...
That's the kinda storm I like. And it's the one brewing thousands of miles away from where I sit.
Now that the 30 week milestone has come and gone, I've found myself almost in my own version of "expectant father" mode. I am constantly checking my phone. Making sure I didn't miss an email, text, or call. Always taking no news as a sign of good news, and blissfully it has been just that. The nursery is ready. Little outfits (I'm sure!) hanging in the closet. And best of all ~ a mommy and daddy just bursting with anticipation and excitement.
The impending arrival of Lil Man is felt silently yet heavily in our home. With Lil Miss becoming busier, chattier, and more toddler-like by the day, I find myself missing those precious baby moments. A soft (and still!) hug. A quiet moment. Those sweet cooing sounds. For us, those have been replaced by flailing, excited hugs (if you can catch her as she's running by!), giant, wet kisses (love those!), and shouts of "Mommy!", "Daddy!", and "Doggie!" The other night, I took out the photo album from her early months. Amazing to think it was only last year....
As I flipped through the pages, I started concentrating intently on her tiny fingers. Her crazy toes. The shape of her eyes. Her little button nose. Her waking and sleeping facial expressions. And wondering. Wondering how much he'll look like her. His biological big sister.
I think that is the reality that has been hitting me more & more. Yes ~ there are also four biological half-siblings. Ones who are older and don't have quite the stake in this that she does. What will she think? How will she feel? Knowing it could have been her? I want to believe ~ have to believe ~ that if we follow the path we discussed, remaining as open and forthcoming as possible, telling her how very much we loved each and every one of those babies and were going to do everything in our power to help them, that she will understand. That she will be grateful knowing she wasn't the only one given a chance at life.
And yes, of course, there is also a part of my heart that sits in waiting. Waiting, upon seeing images of his sweet face, to leave my body forever. Just as it did when I delivered my five children. So a piece of my heart will go to their sweet boy as well.
But I continue to believe, and have steadfast faith, in knowing that the piece of my heart will be just one of many. So many people already loving this little boy, counting the days til his arrival.
And so we wait. And we pray.
I love the calm before a storm.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Keeping it Real ~ Confessional #1
I knew this post was coming. In all reality, I thought it was going to come much sooner.
If you are at all familiar with my personal story, you know I lead a very busy life. Five children. One in college, one heading to college this summer, one getting ready to drive, one busy year-round with sports, and one just learning to walk and talk. I also work full time. And go to school full time. And run a household.
So while I am elated to be a part of the world of embryo adoption as a donor mother, it is not something that I have a tremendous amount of time to spend thinking about. To be honest, while I think of my snow sister on a regular basis, I often just think of her as a dear friend expecting a baby later this summer. Which she is. But I don't much dwell on the fact that my fiance and I directly contributed to the actual child she is carrying. This baby belongs to her and her husband.
However, in an effort to be completely honest both with myself as well as with anyone else who may be contemplating this choice, I will admit that last week I had my first "moment". It hit me like a wave, and passed almost as quickly, but there it was. I was sad.
We are so incredibly blessed to have a wonderfully amazing open relationship with our "extended family". We receive updates, see ultrasound pics, and celebrate each and every milestone. Last Monday, they discovered they were expecting a boy. A son.
As you know from my history, I had four children prior to meeting my fiance. Three daughters and one son. What can I say? My cup runneth over. When we were at the final stage of our IVF journey, and the day arrived for our embryo transfer, we were told we had seven total embryos that had made it to the blastocyst stage, two of which were the "strongest" of the bunch. If I remember correctly, "F" and "G". One of those turned out to be our beautiful daughter. The other, I can safely assume, is their son.
I remember feeling a tremendous sense of pressure the day we went for our ultrasound that would reveal our baby's gender. Pressure put on from noone but myself. Knowing this was going to be our only child, I felt my fiance would be thrilled with a son. Not that he wouldn't adore a little girl, but just the same, I couldn't shake the notion that he was hoping for a boy.
I will never forget the look on his face as he watched his daughter being born. Will never forget the love in his eyes, in his smile, the first time he held her. There was no doubt that this was indeed God's plan. She was perfect. Our family was perfect.
Daddy with his princess. Love at first sight.
Yet there it was. A moment of sadness. A tugging at my heart that I couldn't deny, and didn't feel as though I should. I felt it. I experienced it. I lived it. And then? It was gone. Replaced by joy and peace, knowing how much this little boy is already loved. Knowing how elated his parents are to meet him. Knowing he is with his forever family.
I can't wait to see pictures. Can't wait to see his proud mama and daddy showing him off to anyone who will give them a moment's pause. And I expect there may be more tugs and pulls to come. But I'm ready for them. I knew going into this process there would be bumps in the road. And every one of them is well worth it.
There's no denying this is the path I was meant to take. Destined.
I love my life. I love my family.
And I celebrate another family in the making. What a very lucky little boy indeed.
If you are at all familiar with my personal story, you know I lead a very busy life. Five children. One in college, one heading to college this summer, one getting ready to drive, one busy year-round with sports, and one just learning to walk and talk. I also work full time. And go to school full time. And run a household.
So while I am elated to be a part of the world of embryo adoption as a donor mother, it is not something that I have a tremendous amount of time to spend thinking about. To be honest, while I think of my snow sister on a regular basis, I often just think of her as a dear friend expecting a baby later this summer. Which she is. But I don't much dwell on the fact that my fiance and I directly contributed to the actual child she is carrying. This baby belongs to her and her husband.
However, in an effort to be completely honest both with myself as well as with anyone else who may be contemplating this choice, I will admit that last week I had my first "moment". It hit me like a wave, and passed almost as quickly, but there it was. I was sad.
We are so incredibly blessed to have a wonderfully amazing open relationship with our "extended family". We receive updates, see ultrasound pics, and celebrate each and every milestone. Last Monday, they discovered they were expecting a boy. A son.
As you know from my history, I had four children prior to meeting my fiance. Three daughters and one son. What can I say? My cup runneth over. When we were at the final stage of our IVF journey, and the day arrived for our embryo transfer, we were told we had seven total embryos that had made it to the blastocyst stage, two of which were the "strongest" of the bunch. If I remember correctly, "F" and "G". One of those turned out to be our beautiful daughter. The other, I can safely assume, is their son.
I remember feeling a tremendous sense of pressure the day we went for our ultrasound that would reveal our baby's gender. Pressure put on from noone but myself. Knowing this was going to be our only child, I felt my fiance would be thrilled with a son. Not that he wouldn't adore a little girl, but just the same, I couldn't shake the notion that he was hoping for a boy.
I will never forget the look on his face as he watched his daughter being born. Will never forget the love in his eyes, in his smile, the first time he held her. There was no doubt that this was indeed God's plan. She was perfect. Our family was perfect.
Daddy with his princess. Love at first sight.
Yet there it was. A moment of sadness. A tugging at my heart that I couldn't deny, and didn't feel as though I should. I felt it. I experienced it. I lived it. And then? It was gone. Replaced by joy and peace, knowing how much this little boy is already loved. Knowing how elated his parents are to meet him. Knowing he is with his forever family.
I can't wait to see pictures. Can't wait to see his proud mama and daddy showing him off to anyone who will give them a moment's pause. And I expect there may be more tugs and pulls to come. But I'm ready for them. I knew going into this process there would be bumps in the road. And every one of them is well worth it.
There's no denying this is the path I was meant to take. Destined.
I love my life. I love my family.
And I celebrate another family in the making. What a very lucky little boy indeed.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
A Hug Across the Miles
My heart is hurting.
Hurting for the anxiety I know my snow sister is feeling this week.
In two days, she will have reached the exact date that her pregnancy with her precious daughter went terribly wrong. I have sat and looked at the calendar on my desk every single day for the past 2 weeks knowing this date was approaching. Dreading it.
The worst part is, I know there is nothing I can do. Nothing I can say to take away any of that fear, any of that worry. Although I cannot for the life of me imagine the devestation of such a tremendous loss, I can only relate it to the anxiety I suffered each and every day throughout my pregnancy with our little princess.
From week 6, that damn subchorionic hematoma had me bleeding every single day. Waking up every morning wondering: Will this be it? Will this be the day it's over? I will forever live with a feeling of loss and heartache for the pregnancy I dreamed of that never was.
But, in the end, there was this beautiful baby girl who was not only all we ever dreamed, but so very, very much more.
And in my heart, in my soul, with every single fiber of my being, I know the same destiny awaits our "extended family" half a country away. I dream of the sweet day I receive the phone call announcing "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!"
Seeing that miracle baby in the arms of his/her mother. Sensing the overwhelming love of this family that was ALWAYS meant to be.
So please ~ keep my dear friend in your hearts and prayers over the next several days, weeks, and months.
"Faith is putting all your eggs in God's basket, then counting your blessings before they hatch."
Hurting for the anxiety I know my snow sister is feeling this week.
In two days, she will have reached the exact date that her pregnancy with her precious daughter went terribly wrong. I have sat and looked at the calendar on my desk every single day for the past 2 weeks knowing this date was approaching. Dreading it.
The worst part is, I know there is nothing I can do. Nothing I can say to take away any of that fear, any of that worry. Although I cannot for the life of me imagine the devestation of such a tremendous loss, I can only relate it to the anxiety I suffered each and every day throughout my pregnancy with our little princess.
From week 6, that damn subchorionic hematoma had me bleeding every single day. Waking up every morning wondering: Will this be it? Will this be the day it's over? I will forever live with a feeling of loss and heartache for the pregnancy I dreamed of that never was.
But, in the end, there was this beautiful baby girl who was not only all we ever dreamed, but so very, very much more.
And in my heart, in my soul, with every single fiber of my being, I know the same destiny awaits our "extended family" half a country away. I dream of the sweet day I receive the phone call announcing "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!"
Seeing that miracle baby in the arms of his/her mother. Sensing the overwhelming love of this family that was ALWAYS meant to be.
So please ~ keep my dear friend in your hearts and prayers over the next several days, weeks, and months.
"Faith is putting all your eggs in God's basket, then counting your blessings before they hatch."
Monday, March 21, 2011
Love.
Morning.
I hear babbling from across the hall. I quietly enter, and even in the dark, I feel her giant blue eyes searching for me. I turn on the light, and there it is.
The smile that melts my heart.
A smile so big that her pink binky comes flying right out of her mouth. Her chubby little hands reach up to grab the crib rails. She’s surrounded by her favorite snuggly blanket given to her by her sister while she was still in the NICU, her first teddy bear given to her by her daddy, Glo Worm, Elmo, and a couple of her favorite babies. She stands, and gingerly lets go of the rail to reach her arms out to me.
I lift her up and she snuggles her head perfectly in the crook of my neck. I feel her chubby little arms and legs wrap around me, feel the warmth of her body through her soft cotton jammies after a restful night’s sleep.
In that moment, I am completely and wholly consumed with love. An emotion so overwhelming, I feel it with every single fiber of my being. In that moment, all I know is peace. In that moment, I am certain there is a God. Everything is right with the world.
This love is so overpowering, so otherworldly, and my only wish is to share it.
It is then I think about that couple a half a country away, almost halfway through their pregnancy. A tiny little belly forming, movements just becoming noticeable. Their own little miraculous bundle of joy. Of love.
And I realize I HAVE shared it.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Fifth Choice
Hello. My name is Shelly and I am a Blog Addict. "Hi Shelly..."
It's true. I feel like I should join Bloggers Anonymous. I have become obsessed with all things "blog", although to look at my own, I guess you wouldn't know it.
Thing is, I've vowed to reserve this blog for the purpose which it was intended. I mean, I could come on here and blog incessantly about how overwhelmed I am with school work, how exhausting a teething one year old is, how I'm suffering from tremendous feelings of guilt as a result of all of the obligations that keep me away from my family, and on and on....
But I won't do that. ;)
So I came across a blog not so long ago (in complete honesty, I don't remember which one), and read something that did not sit well with me. At all.
The topic was receipt of "the letter" following an IVF procedure resulting in remaining frozen embryos. "The letter", which I've mentioned countless times here, and that you've undoubtedly heard mentioned many times elsewhere, asking for a decision regarding the fate of your remaining frozen embryos.
Now we're all aware of the "big four". And prior to discovering this blog, I thought that's all there were ~ four choices. Disposal, continued preservation, research, or donation. None of which are obviously as simple as they sound. But now I hear there's a fifth choice. Transferring the remaining embryos at a particular point in a woman's cycle during which they have no chance of resulting in a viable pregnancy.
I believe there was a name for this procedure, although I can't recall what it was. Although several thoughts come to mind....
This is such a difficult concept for me to grasp. And in no way do I want to diminish anyone's personal experience. But WHY? HOW?
If you read back on my blog, you'll see that the option of donation for stem cell research was a very brief consideration of mine. But I just couldn't do it. In the end, for me, there was no other choice but one.
We entered the process of IVF wanting a baby. A living, breathing baby. We followed our protocol, held tight to our faith, and were blessed with seven beautiful blastocysts. ALL of whome we LOVED. ALL of whom deserved a chance at LIFE.
As for my family, we were only able to bring home one. But that left six little embies still in need of a family. And mercifully, God led us to them.
So I'm sorry, but I just don't buy this whole claim of "disposing of them mercifully"! By transferring them at a time that they have zero chance of viability is, in my eyes, a death sentence. Yes, I said it.
Was making the choice to donate them to another couple an easy one? HECK NO! Did we question ourselves and then question ourselves AGAIN? HECK YES!
Has this undeniably been one of the most life altering, amazing experiences of my life? No question.
If I offend anyone, I apologize. But you know what? I went into the IVF process thinking I couldn't possibly have a greater appreciation for life, or stand more firmly in my beliefs.
I was wrong.
Those remaining five tiny little frozen embryos, not to mention the precious miracle currently growing at 13 weeks strong in his/her mama's belly, have taught me a greater lesson than any person I know.
And for that, I am grateful.
It's true. I feel like I should join Bloggers Anonymous. I have become obsessed with all things "blog", although to look at my own, I guess you wouldn't know it.
Thing is, I've vowed to reserve this blog for the purpose which it was intended. I mean, I could come on here and blog incessantly about how overwhelmed I am with school work, how exhausting a teething one year old is, how I'm suffering from tremendous feelings of guilt as a result of all of the obligations that keep me away from my family, and on and on....
But I won't do that. ;)
So I came across a blog not so long ago (in complete honesty, I don't remember which one), and read something that did not sit well with me. At all.
The topic was receipt of "the letter" following an IVF procedure resulting in remaining frozen embryos. "The letter", which I've mentioned countless times here, and that you've undoubtedly heard mentioned many times elsewhere, asking for a decision regarding the fate of your remaining frozen embryos.
Now we're all aware of the "big four". And prior to discovering this blog, I thought that's all there were ~ four choices. Disposal, continued preservation, research, or donation. None of which are obviously as simple as they sound. But now I hear there's a fifth choice. Transferring the remaining embryos at a particular point in a woman's cycle during which they have no chance of resulting in a viable pregnancy.
I believe there was a name for this procedure, although I can't recall what it was. Although several thoughts come to mind....
This is such a difficult concept for me to grasp. And in no way do I want to diminish anyone's personal experience. But WHY? HOW?
If you read back on my blog, you'll see that the option of donation for stem cell research was a very brief consideration of mine. But I just couldn't do it. In the end, for me, there was no other choice but one.
We entered the process of IVF wanting a baby. A living, breathing baby. We followed our protocol, held tight to our faith, and were blessed with seven beautiful blastocysts. ALL of whome we LOVED. ALL of whom deserved a chance at LIFE.
As for my family, we were only able to bring home one. But that left six little embies still in need of a family. And mercifully, God led us to them.
So I'm sorry, but I just don't buy this whole claim of "disposing of them mercifully"! By transferring them at a time that they have zero chance of viability is, in my eyes, a death sentence. Yes, I said it.
Was making the choice to donate them to another couple an easy one? HECK NO! Did we question ourselves and then question ourselves AGAIN? HECK YES!
Has this undeniably been one of the most life altering, amazing experiences of my life? No question.
If I offend anyone, I apologize. But you know what? I went into the IVF process thinking I couldn't possibly have a greater appreciation for life, or stand more firmly in my beliefs.
I was wrong.
Those remaining five tiny little frozen embryos, not to mention the precious miracle currently growing at 13 weeks strong in his/her mama's belly, have taught me a greater lesson than any person I know.
And for that, I am grateful.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Happy Day Times Two!
Today was already a special day. You see, nine years ago on this day, I gave birth to a little blue-eyed handsome man who changed my life forever. Happy Birthday, buddy! Mommy loves you so very, very much!
And at 12:36 this afternoon, my dear lifelong friend "Maria" gave birth to a beautiful little 6.5 lb baby girl!
Just when I think my heart cannot be more full. My cup truly runneth over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My amazing Snowsister continues to progress very nicely! Another week and a half and the 2nd trimester milestone has been achieved! How incredible is that?
All of these new lives entering the world just fills me with such a sense of hope and promise. I can't believe that one month from today we'll be celebrating the 1st birthday of our sweet little princess. What an unbelievable blessing she has been and oh how much love and joy she has brought to everyone!
This may sound strange, but I like to think of her as having had a tremendous hand in our decision to place our embryos up for adoption. One look into those big blue eyes and the decision was made.
The circle of life. Isn't it something?
Happy, happy day indeed!!
And at 12:36 this afternoon, my dear lifelong friend "Maria" gave birth to a beautiful little 6.5 lb baby girl!
Just when I think my heart cannot be more full. My cup truly runneth over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My amazing Snowsister continues to progress very nicely! Another week and a half and the 2nd trimester milestone has been achieved! How incredible is that?
All of these new lives entering the world just fills me with such a sense of hope and promise. I can't believe that one month from today we'll be celebrating the 1st birthday of our sweet little princess. What an unbelievable blessing she has been and oh how much love and joy she has brought to everyone!
This may sound strange, but I like to think of her as having had a tremendous hand in our decision to place our embryos up for adoption. One look into those big blue eyes and the decision was made.
The circle of life. Isn't it something?
Happy, happy day indeed!!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
This was the title of the ad we placed on the "Miracles Waiting" website what seems like a lifetime ago.
Although in hindsight it seems incredibly ironic considering the location of the family with which we were ultimately united! ;)
I had initially seen my Snowsister's profile on another website, and then was awestruck to see she'd also placed an ad on "Miracles Waiting".
When I first start researching couples with which to potentially place our embryos, I had several criteria in mind. One of the most important that I will discuss today was geographic location.
I know that for many couples, a significant geographic distance is preferable for reasons relating to avoiding a potential genetic conflict when meeting and developing possible future relationships. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I also recall having seen several ads where placing couples expressed a preference for a family within driving distance so as to maintain a close relationship with the recipient family and their biological child(ren), which in many cases was deemed to be primarily for the benefit of full genetic siblings.
As I've stated on numerous occasions (and probably will on many more to come!), I felt an instant connection with our recipient family. Yes, it certainly made the decision easier as they were located half a country away, but it was also very much a case of just "knowing"; similar to how many people describe feeling upon meeting their future spouse, finding the perfect home, etc.
My initial thought was that for my own personal protection, meaning emotionally and mentally, that I would have much greater peace of mind knowing that while our embies had found their forever family, that physical distance would eliminate any pain or loss that I might experience in the future. I suppose in hindsight this could be perceived as a conflict with my desire to keep an open relationship with the recipient family. All I can say is, in my mind at that time, a significant geographic gap was of great importance to me.
While I have zero regrets about our decision, I will admit that I've already experienced sadness that we're not closer to one another. I realize every situation will be different, and that ultimately people need to make the choice that they believe will be right for them. And if I had it to do all over again, I would choose this couple every single time. But as our daughter's 1st birthday approaches, it hurts my heart that they can't be there to share in the celebration. When I think about #2 daughter's high school graduation this summer, our wedding next fall, I can't imagine the void I will feel not having this newly discovered part of our family there to share it with us.
We talk about them in our home on a regular basis, and my older girls are so incredibly excited to hear each update. They are so very dear to my heart, and I honestly can't remember life before them. This also presents the inevitable question that should we be closer, would that also be reciprocal? Would I be invited to the baby shower? Would I see him/her after they're born? If so, how frequently and in what capacity?
There are so many questions, so many unknowns. But the truth is that I've removed most of these variables from the equation by this"self imposed distance".
When we made our trip out west last fall, I tried to view everything through the eyes of their future child/ren. Their home. The neighborhood. The school. The community. And I was overcome with an indescribable feeling of happiness. Peace. Certainty. This was it. This was HOME.
We have a long future together ahead of us, and I am completely confident that we will continue making joint decisions that are ultimately in the best interest of everyone~~primarily, these precious little ones. And the truth is that even though there are thousands of miles between us, we are always no more than a call, a text, or an email away.
And most importantly, ALWAYS in one another's hearts.
Although in hindsight it seems incredibly ironic considering the location of the family with which we were ultimately united! ;)
I had initially seen my Snowsister's profile on another website, and then was awestruck to see she'd also placed an ad on "Miracles Waiting".
When I first start researching couples with which to potentially place our embryos, I had several criteria in mind. One of the most important that I will discuss today was geographic location.
I know that for many couples, a significant geographic distance is preferable for reasons relating to avoiding a potential genetic conflict when meeting and developing possible future relationships. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I also recall having seen several ads where placing couples expressed a preference for a family within driving distance so as to maintain a close relationship with the recipient family and their biological child(ren), which in many cases was deemed to be primarily for the benefit of full genetic siblings.
As I've stated on numerous occasions (and probably will on many more to come!), I felt an instant connection with our recipient family. Yes, it certainly made the decision easier as they were located half a country away, but it was also very much a case of just "knowing"; similar to how many people describe feeling upon meeting their future spouse, finding the perfect home, etc.
My initial thought was that for my own personal protection, meaning emotionally and mentally, that I would have much greater peace of mind knowing that while our embies had found their forever family, that physical distance would eliminate any pain or loss that I might experience in the future. I suppose in hindsight this could be perceived as a conflict with my desire to keep an open relationship with the recipient family. All I can say is, in my mind at that time, a significant geographic gap was of great importance to me.
While I have zero regrets about our decision, I will admit that I've already experienced sadness that we're not closer to one another. I realize every situation will be different, and that ultimately people need to make the choice that they believe will be right for them. And if I had it to do all over again, I would choose this couple every single time. But as our daughter's 1st birthday approaches, it hurts my heart that they can't be there to share in the celebration. When I think about #2 daughter's high school graduation this summer, our wedding next fall, I can't imagine the void I will feel not having this newly discovered part of our family there to share it with us.
We talk about them in our home on a regular basis, and my older girls are so incredibly excited to hear each update. They are so very dear to my heart, and I honestly can't remember life before them. This also presents the inevitable question that should we be closer, would that also be reciprocal? Would I be invited to the baby shower? Would I see him/her after they're born? If so, how frequently and in what capacity?
There are so many questions, so many unknowns. But the truth is that I've removed most of these variables from the equation by this"self imposed distance".
When we made our trip out west last fall, I tried to view everything through the eyes of their future child/ren. Their home. The neighborhood. The school. The community. And I was overcome with an indescribable feeling of happiness. Peace. Certainty. This was it. This was HOME.
We have a long future together ahead of us, and I am completely confident that we will continue making joint decisions that are ultimately in the best interest of everyone~~primarily, these precious little ones. And the truth is that even though there are thousands of miles between us, we are always no more than a call, a text, or an email away.
And most importantly, ALWAYS in one another's hearts.
Friday, January 7, 2011
New Beginnings
A belated Happy 2011 to everyone!
The tree and "all things Christmas" have been packed away for another year, and we are now looking forward to all of the exciting things 2011 has in store!
First of all, an update on my dear expectant friend "Maria" whom I was so concerned about going into premature labor months and months ago. I am THRILLED to report that her little princess decided to hold tight and is still snuggled in nice and cozy! She is now 36 weeks along (well out of the danger zone!), and scheduled for a C-section later this month, assuming labor doesn't begin sooner. We are all thanking God for an uneventful past couple of months, and are eagerly awaiting this little one's arrival!
I'm also elated to report that my Snowsister has had a lovely past couple of weeks (with the exception of some nausea and fatigue, which I consider GREAT things!). She is scheduled for another ultrasound next week, and will then be graduating from her RE to OB! {Insert happy dance here}
When I embarked on this embryo adoption journey 6 months ago, I consumed myself with blogs on infertility, infant loss, etc. And I have been overwhelmed with stories of bravery, resilience, and strength. I am truly humbled to be included in a sisterhood of such amazing women.
Lately, however, I've found myself taking a slightly different route and have been devouring all things open adoption. Adoption is such an incredibly selfless act (and I do not mean this in any type of egocentric way), but also appears to be a somewhat complex road to travel at times, depending on the individual circumstances.
Closed vs Open. If Open, to what extent or degree. Who to tell. When to tell. How much to tell them. There are so many different factors and individuals to consider, not the least of which is the child or children involved.
I will say that I am at complete peace with our choice to maintain an open relationship with our donor family. Although some may not understand or necessarily agree, I've done as much research as I could on the alternative, and with some minor exceptions, open adoption seems to be the overwhelming choice in providing the greatest benefit to everyone involved. Yet once again, I struggle to find my place as an "embryo donor mother", as opposed to a "birth/first mother".
This is such new and unchartered territory, which translates to it being exciting, but also quite daunting. I have much to learn, much to discover. And this is only the beggining.
However, I realize that I am incredibly blessed to have such an amazing woman to be walking with me on this journey.
I see how much support she consistently provides to this huge network of women, offering words of encouragement, reassurance, compassion, and wisdom, and I realize that as lucky as they all are to have her as a resource (and in many cases, a friend), I am even more fortunate.
Because this child (and God willing ~ these children), are going to have the most amazing mother in the world.
The tree and "all things Christmas" have been packed away for another year, and we are now looking forward to all of the exciting things 2011 has in store!
First of all, an update on my dear expectant friend "Maria" whom I was so concerned about going into premature labor months and months ago. I am THRILLED to report that her little princess decided to hold tight and is still snuggled in nice and cozy! She is now 36 weeks along (well out of the danger zone!), and scheduled for a C-section later this month, assuming labor doesn't begin sooner. We are all thanking God for an uneventful past couple of months, and are eagerly awaiting this little one's arrival!
I'm also elated to report that my Snowsister has had a lovely past couple of weeks (with the exception of some nausea and fatigue, which I consider GREAT things!). She is scheduled for another ultrasound next week, and will then be graduating from her RE to OB! {Insert happy dance here}
When I embarked on this embryo adoption journey 6 months ago, I consumed myself with blogs on infertility, infant loss, etc. And I have been overwhelmed with stories of bravery, resilience, and strength. I am truly humbled to be included in a sisterhood of such amazing women.
Lately, however, I've found myself taking a slightly different route and have been devouring all things open adoption. Adoption is such an incredibly selfless act (and I do not mean this in any type of egocentric way), but also appears to be a somewhat complex road to travel at times, depending on the individual circumstances.
Closed vs Open. If Open, to what extent or degree. Who to tell. When to tell. How much to tell them. There are so many different factors and individuals to consider, not the least of which is the child or children involved.
I will say that I am at complete peace with our choice to maintain an open relationship with our donor family. Although some may not understand or necessarily agree, I've done as much research as I could on the alternative, and with some minor exceptions, open adoption seems to be the overwhelming choice in providing the greatest benefit to everyone involved. Yet once again, I struggle to find my place as an "embryo donor mother", as opposed to a "birth/first mother".
This is such new and unchartered territory, which translates to it being exciting, but also quite daunting. I have much to learn, much to discover. And this is only the beggining.
However, I realize that I am incredibly blessed to have such an amazing woman to be walking with me on this journey.
I see how much support she consistently provides to this huge network of women, offering words of encouragement, reassurance, compassion, and wisdom, and I realize that as lucky as they all are to have her as a resource (and in many cases, a friend), I am even more fortunate.
Because this child (and God willing ~ these children), are going to have the most amazing mother in the world.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Letter #1 ~ 2010
Well here we are...New Year's Eve Eve!
New Year's is always a time for reflection and introspection, but even more so this year.
I have been experiencing such a flood of emotions over the past week or so. I could not be more grateful for all of the the blessings bestowed on me in 2010, or more enthusiastic about the promise awaiting in 2011!
We are headed to some dear friends' house to celebrate tomorrow evening, and my heart will be so incredibly full as I watch that ball drop in Times Square. Just a couple of weeks ago we stood in that very spot with our donor recipient couple~~unaware that a little miracle had already begun taking shape.
As I continue to explore ways to navigate this ever evolving journey, one thought I had was to write a letter.
A letter a year to our adopted snowbabies.
Whether just for my own therapeutic purposes, or perhaps one day for him/her/them to read and hopefully help them understand.
And so here goes...my first letter!
May God bless each and every one of you. May you find peace as this year comes to a close, and find many blessings awaiting in 2011.
Happy New Year!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Little One:
I have a secret to tell you. You are a lucky little bean. A very lucky little bean. But rather than try to explain, let me instead share a little story…
Once upon a time there was a woman happily raising her four children. This woman had known she wanted to be a mommy ever since she was a little girl. Not only did she know she wanted to be a mommy, she knew she wanted to have lots of babies. Not just two or three like most families, but maybe four or five! And by the grace of God, this mommy got her wish.
In five year’s time, she was blessed with three beautiful baby girls. They were each lovely and wonderful in their own special way, and every single day this woman thanked God for choosing her to be their mommy. Some years later, this woman was blessed again, this time with a baby boy. He was sweet and perfect and had the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. This mommy couldn’t believe how very lucky she was to have the family she’d always dreamed of! She was sure her family was now complete.
But then, just when she thought her life could not possibly be any fuller, she met the most magnificent man she’d ever known. He was kind and caring and loved her and her children with all of his heart. One day this man took this woman and her children on a beautiful train ride through the country and asked them to become his forever family.
The woman could not believe how incredibly blessed she was, and her heart felt as though it might explode with all of the love she was feeling. This man and woman loved each other so very much that they decided to have a baby of their very own.
The love that this man and woman had was so great that God blessed them with seven teeny, tiny little snow babies. But they could choose only one. And so, the following year, a beautiful baby girl was born, and the mommy and daddy were overcome with joy for this amazing gift.
Soon the day came when it was time for the mommy and daddy to say goodbye to their other six tiny snow babies. And although they were very sad, they were also rejoicing because God had led them to another very special mommy and daddy.
This other mommy and daddy had been wanting a baby of their own for a long time. They loved each other very much, and prayed to God very hard to grant their wish. And one day, God did grant their wish and sent them a precious little girl. Sadly, she was born just a little too soon, and God called her back up to heaven. Even though this mommy and daddy missed their little girl with all of their hearts, they kept praying to God each and every day, asking Him to watch over their sweet angel in heaven, and hoping that one day He might send them another baby to love.
God can work in very magical and mysterious ways, and so it came to be that that He helped these mommies find one another. The mommy with the six precious snow babies asked the angel baby’s mommy if she would please take care of them and love them just as she wished she could. When the angel baby’s mommy said yes, they both celebrated the miracle that God had granted them!
The first mommy was filled with a tremendous sense of peace, knowing that these six little snow babies had found their forever family~a mommy and daddy who would love them with all of their hearts forever and ever.
So you see little one, it was not just because of the love of one mommy and daddy that you are here today. It is because of the love of two mommies and daddies who all loved you so very much and wanted you so very much.
But most of all because God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that your forever family was here waiting for you all along...
New Year's is always a time for reflection and introspection, but even more so this year.
I have been experiencing such a flood of emotions over the past week or so. I could not be more grateful for all of the the blessings bestowed on me in 2010, or more enthusiastic about the promise awaiting in 2011!
We are headed to some dear friends' house to celebrate tomorrow evening, and my heart will be so incredibly full as I watch that ball drop in Times Square. Just a couple of weeks ago we stood in that very spot with our donor recipient couple~~unaware that a little miracle had already begun taking shape.
As I continue to explore ways to navigate this ever evolving journey, one thought I had was to write a letter.
A letter a year to our adopted snowbabies.
Whether just for my own therapeutic purposes, or perhaps one day for him/her/them to read and hopefully help them understand.
And so here goes...my first letter!
May God bless each and every one of you. May you find peace as this year comes to a close, and find many blessings awaiting in 2011.
Happy New Year!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Little One:
I have a secret to tell you. You are a lucky little bean. A very lucky little bean. But rather than try to explain, let me instead share a little story…
Once upon a time there was a woman happily raising her four children. This woman had known she wanted to be a mommy ever since she was a little girl. Not only did she know she wanted to be a mommy, she knew she wanted to have lots of babies. Not just two or three like most families, but maybe four or five! And by the grace of God, this mommy got her wish.
In five year’s time, she was blessed with three beautiful baby girls. They were each lovely and wonderful in their own special way, and every single day this woman thanked God for choosing her to be their mommy. Some years later, this woman was blessed again, this time with a baby boy. He was sweet and perfect and had the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. This mommy couldn’t believe how very lucky she was to have the family she’d always dreamed of! She was sure her family was now complete.
But then, just when she thought her life could not possibly be any fuller, she met the most magnificent man she’d ever known. He was kind and caring and loved her and her children with all of his heart. One day this man took this woman and her children on a beautiful train ride through the country and asked them to become his forever family.
The woman could not believe how incredibly blessed she was, and her heart felt as though it might explode with all of the love she was feeling. This man and woman loved each other so very much that they decided to have a baby of their very own.
The love that this man and woman had was so great that God blessed them with seven teeny, tiny little snow babies. But they could choose only one. And so, the following year, a beautiful baby girl was born, and the mommy and daddy were overcome with joy for this amazing gift.
Soon the day came when it was time for the mommy and daddy to say goodbye to their other six tiny snow babies. And although they were very sad, they were also rejoicing because God had led them to another very special mommy and daddy.
This other mommy and daddy had been wanting a baby of their own for a long time. They loved each other very much, and prayed to God very hard to grant their wish. And one day, God did grant their wish and sent them a precious little girl. Sadly, she was born just a little too soon, and God called her back up to heaven. Even though this mommy and daddy missed their little girl with all of their hearts, they kept praying to God each and every day, asking Him to watch over their sweet angel in heaven, and hoping that one day He might send them another baby to love.
God can work in very magical and mysterious ways, and so it came to be that that He helped these mommies find one another. The mommy with the six precious snow babies asked the angel baby’s mommy if she would please take care of them and love them just as she wished she could. When the angel baby’s mommy said yes, they both celebrated the miracle that God had granted them!
The first mommy was filled with a tremendous sense of peace, knowing that these six little snow babies had found their forever family~a mommy and daddy who would love them with all of their hearts forever and ever.
So you see little one, it was not just because of the love of one mommy and daddy that you are here today. It is because of the love of two mommies and daddies who all loved you so very much and wanted you so very much.
But most of all because God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that your forever family was here waiting for you all along...
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Looking Ahead
The week between Christmas and New Year's is one I always enjoy. The last minute hustle-and-bustle of getting ready for the "Big Day" is behind us, and it's time to look towards ringing in yet another New Year.
Christmas in our home this year was a most magical one. I haven't enjoyed a "Baby's First Christmas" in 8 years and had forgotten just how amazing it is to witness. Of course, the excitement can vary a bit depending on baby's age at the time (my little princess was less than 2 weeks old her first Christmas and from what I recall, slept most of the day away!).
But to see a happy, vibrant 10 month old's face on Christmas morning is the greatest gift. Watching her learn to rip wrapping paper (and try to eat it!), seeing her laugh and clap, and just seeing the looks of pure love on the faces of everyone in that room. It was all such an overwhelming feeling of happiness and peace.
The day after Christmas, I received an upsetting text from my snow sister. She'd started spotting a bit the day before and was concerned. I couldn't feel her pain or anxiety more. As I've mentioned several times before, I suffered with a subchorionic bleed for my entire pregnancy with Ava. It was the most terrifying, horrific (almost) 9 months I've ever lived through and prayed she wasn't experiencing the same. Yet I couldn't bring myself to think it could possibly be anything worse. I somehow felt in my heart that that baby was just fine.
Nonetheless, it was a long two days between her text and her ultrasound appointment yesterday. I have a Black.Berry and sat there staring at my phone all morning waiting for that little red light to start blinking, indicating that I had a text waiting.
And today I am elated to report that little bean is looking strong and beautiful as ever. Thriving.
In her own words, "it's going to be a long 9 months", and indeed it is. But a glorious 9 months.
I've started doing a great deal of soul searching thinking about what a blessed year I've had in 2010, and how I really want to focus on paying it forward in 2011 and beyond. I feel like I'm off to a pretty good start.
What makes me even happier is that after my fiance, the first texts I sent after receiving her update were to my daughters. And they were celebrating.
Two families half a country apart joined by this precious little miracle.
2010 was a banner year indeed.
Christmas in our home this year was a most magical one. I haven't enjoyed a "Baby's First Christmas" in 8 years and had forgotten just how amazing it is to witness. Of course, the excitement can vary a bit depending on baby's age at the time (my little princess was less than 2 weeks old her first Christmas and from what I recall, slept most of the day away!).
But to see a happy, vibrant 10 month old's face on Christmas morning is the greatest gift. Watching her learn to rip wrapping paper (and try to eat it!), seeing her laugh and clap, and just seeing the looks of pure love on the faces of everyone in that room. It was all such an overwhelming feeling of happiness and peace.
The day after Christmas, I received an upsetting text from my snow sister. She'd started spotting a bit the day before and was concerned. I couldn't feel her pain or anxiety more. As I've mentioned several times before, I suffered with a subchorionic bleed for my entire pregnancy with Ava. It was the most terrifying, horrific (almost) 9 months I've ever lived through and prayed she wasn't experiencing the same. Yet I couldn't bring myself to think it could possibly be anything worse. I somehow felt in my heart that that baby was just fine.
Nonetheless, it was a long two days between her text and her ultrasound appointment yesterday. I have a Black.Berry and sat there staring at my phone all morning waiting for that little red light to start blinking, indicating that I had a text waiting.
And today I am elated to report that little bean is looking strong and beautiful as ever. Thriving.
In her own words, "it's going to be a long 9 months", and indeed it is. But a glorious 9 months.
I've started doing a great deal of soul searching thinking about what a blessed year I've had in 2010, and how I really want to focus on paying it forward in 2011 and beyond. I feel like I'm off to a pretty good start.
What makes me even happier is that after my fiance, the first texts I sent after receiving her update were to my daughters. And they were celebrating.
Two families half a country apart joined by this precious little miracle.
2010 was a banner year indeed.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Coming Out
I have a confession to make. I have not yet "come out" as an embryo donor.
My older children know, our parents know, and a very select group of our friends know. But that is it.
Not to say it's exactly a topic of conversation that comes up every day. "Hey~did you catch the weather report this morning?" "How about that game last night??" "By the way..did I mention we've placed our 6 frozen embryos up for adoption??"
Even telling the few people we have has not been an easy task. First and foremeost, it can be a bit confusing to someone completely unfamiliar with the process of IVF. Take my mother for example. She is 60+ years young, and as old-school as they come. Yes, we told her we were going through IVF when our daughter was conceived last summer. But I'm not sure she ever really truly grasped the process. So when I further complicated matters by trying to explain that we've still got 6 frozen embryos in storage that we had decided to donate to an infertile couple...well...she kind of just looked back at me with a bit of a blank stare.
I think she still believes she'll be babysitting another grandchild a year from now. :)
So while I've been thrilled to share this journey with the entire blogosphere, I'm much more guarded when it comes to discussing it with people I know in "real life".
Although I suppose I'm ashamed to admit it, part of me does worry about being judged. Embryo donation/adoption being such a relatively new concept, there is much room for...shall we say..."opinion" on the matter. And while I stand firm in my convictions and am incredibly confident with our choice, it hurts to find others not so supportive.
I have one friend in particular, whom I love like a sister and whose friendship I cherish very deeply, who has caused me great pain through this process. When I received the initial contact from our clinic over the summer regarding our snow babies, she was the first person I called. I told her how conflicted I was and that I wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing. I talked through my options with her, and she listened intently as she always does.
Having reached our decision to donate, she was once again one of the first people I shared the news with, and again, I received her full attention. But then, when I told her we'd be flying out to meet our donor family, she had little to no reaction. When I told her about their protocol and their procedural updates, nothing. Following their visit here and subsequent transfer, no comment. And even after telling her they were blessed with a positive pregnancy test, no response.
My heart was breaking inside that she was not able to share my joy and celebrate this miracle with me. And so I felt I had no other choice but to confront her. In all fairness, she seemed incredibly relieved when I did. Almost as if she'd wanted to do it herself, but didn't have the courage.
And then her words cut me like a knife~~"I just don't see what good can possibly come from this." That was what she said. At first, I asked how she could not see something wonderful and full of love coming from this amazing couple realizing their dream of having a family?? She clarified that while she did understand and support our decision to donate our embryos, she could not support our decision to remain open throughout the process and continue to have a relationship with our recipient family. She said she only saw this as an inevitable source of pain and hurt for me in the future.
While I want to believe~~need to believe~~that she truly has my best interests at heart, I cannot escape the pain her disapproval has caused me. And this from a dear friend. So what am I to believe the reaction of outsiders might be??
I have been "introduced" to countless AMAZING women since beginning this crazy IVF journey, and have found myself consumed with blog updates and insights into everyone's journeys of heartache and jubilation. I could go on & on & on about the tears I've shed, the aching in my heart, and the sheer joy I've experienced. This is really and truly a sacred place and I feel so incredibly blessed to occupy even a tiny corner of this world.
A fellow blogger asked to share my story on her FB wall yesterday and I humbly accepted. However, I could not bring myself to "like" the page itself. To put it out to the masses that I was a "face" of embryo donation. To share what has become a vital part of my person with those whom I'm supposedly "friends".
And for this I am ashamed.
I am a firm believer~~a MOST firm believer~~in everything happening for a reason. I was supposed to be done having children 8 years ago. My tubes were tied. I never experienced infertility. IVF was something completely foreign to me.
Yet here I am.
And I am HUMBLED. And HONORED. So please forgive me as I continue to come to terms with my place in this world.
To you I say, I AM a face of embryo donation. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
My older children know, our parents know, and a very select group of our friends know. But that is it.
Not to say it's exactly a topic of conversation that comes up every day. "Hey~did you catch the weather report this morning?" "How about that game last night??" "By the way..did I mention we've placed our 6 frozen embryos up for adoption??"
Even telling the few people we have has not been an easy task. First and foremeost, it can be a bit confusing to someone completely unfamiliar with the process of IVF. Take my mother for example. She is 60+ years young, and as old-school as they come. Yes, we told her we were going through IVF when our daughter was conceived last summer. But I'm not sure she ever really truly grasped the process. So when I further complicated matters by trying to explain that we've still got 6 frozen embryos in storage that we had decided to donate to an infertile couple...well...she kind of just looked back at me with a bit of a blank stare.
I think she still believes she'll be babysitting another grandchild a year from now. :)
So while I've been thrilled to share this journey with the entire blogosphere, I'm much more guarded when it comes to discussing it with people I know in "real life".
Although I suppose I'm ashamed to admit it, part of me does worry about being judged. Embryo donation/adoption being such a relatively new concept, there is much room for...shall we say..."opinion" on the matter. And while I stand firm in my convictions and am incredibly confident with our choice, it hurts to find others not so supportive.
I have one friend in particular, whom I love like a sister and whose friendship I cherish very deeply, who has caused me great pain through this process. When I received the initial contact from our clinic over the summer regarding our snow babies, she was the first person I called. I told her how conflicted I was and that I wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing. I talked through my options with her, and she listened intently as she always does.
Having reached our decision to donate, she was once again one of the first people I shared the news with, and again, I received her full attention. But then, when I told her we'd be flying out to meet our donor family, she had little to no reaction. When I told her about their protocol and their procedural updates, nothing. Following their visit here and subsequent transfer, no comment. And even after telling her they were blessed with a positive pregnancy test, no response.
My heart was breaking inside that she was not able to share my joy and celebrate this miracle with me. And so I felt I had no other choice but to confront her. In all fairness, she seemed incredibly relieved when I did. Almost as if she'd wanted to do it herself, but didn't have the courage.
And then her words cut me like a knife~~"I just don't see what good can possibly come from this." That was what she said. At first, I asked how she could not see something wonderful and full of love coming from this amazing couple realizing their dream of having a family?? She clarified that while she did understand and support our decision to donate our embryos, she could not support our decision to remain open throughout the process and continue to have a relationship with our recipient family. She said she only saw this as an inevitable source of pain and hurt for me in the future.
While I want to believe~~need to believe~~that she truly has my best interests at heart, I cannot escape the pain her disapproval has caused me. And this from a dear friend. So what am I to believe the reaction of outsiders might be??
I have been "introduced" to countless AMAZING women since beginning this crazy IVF journey, and have found myself consumed with blog updates and insights into everyone's journeys of heartache and jubilation. I could go on & on & on about the tears I've shed, the aching in my heart, and the sheer joy I've experienced. This is really and truly a sacred place and I feel so incredibly blessed to occupy even a tiny corner of this world.
A fellow blogger asked to share my story on her FB wall yesterday and I humbly accepted. However, I could not bring myself to "like" the page itself. To put it out to the masses that I was a "face" of embryo donation. To share what has become a vital part of my person with those whom I'm supposedly "friends".
And for this I am ashamed.
I am a firm believer~~a MOST firm believer~~in everything happening for a reason. I was supposed to be done having children 8 years ago. My tubes were tied. I never experienced infertility. IVF was something completely foreign to me.
Yet here I am.
And I am HUMBLED. And HONORED. So please forgive me as I continue to come to terms with my place in this world.
To you I say, I AM a face of embryo donation. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
2010
I cannot believe Christmas 2010 is only days away, and in a little over a week we'll be ringing in 2011! It sounds like such a chiche, but this year truly went by in the blink of an eye.
It's almost difficult to comprehend all of the wonderful blessings that occurred.
In February, we welcomed our beautiful little princess, Ava Elizabeth. She has been such a beam of light in our house and brought more love and happiness to our family than I ever dreamed possible. Being greeted by her smiling face in the morning gives me a renewed appreciation for life each & every day...
In May, my handsome little man celebrated his First Holy Communion! He looked so dapper in his little suit and made his Mama very proud~~as always.
In June, we celebrated my other "baby"'s high school graduation! I still can't believe it's been 18 years since this beautiful creature changed my life forever. She is such an amazing young woman and I am so proud to call myself her mother.
In September, we celebrated Ava's Baptism into the Catholic church, and also became the proud owners of our very own summer vacation retreat~~a trailer down on the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland. Sure to bring many, many happy memories in years to come!
In October, we went to visit our new extended family~~our embryo donor recipients! I cannot put into words what this union has meant to me and my entire family. The fact that we were led to one another was and is nothing short of an act of God.
And now, in December, after spending time with our donor family during their "transfer visit" earlier this month, we celebrate along with them the blessing of a pregnancy! Truly nothing short of a Christmas miracle! My entire family & I look forward with great love, joy, and anticipation to celebrating the new addition to their family in 2011!
From my family to yours, a BLESSED CHRISTMAS and VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
There is a Santa Claus
Early Saturday morning, I was hurriedly getting ready to leave the house in order to go volunteer at my girls' high school open house for several hours. I was fixing my hair, helping my 8 year old find his missing shoe, and changing a dirty diaper simulatneously when the text notification went off on my phone. Thinking it must be my mom (as I was preparing to drop my 2 youngest off to her for the day), I hurriedly picked it up to see what she was reminding me to bring.
Only it wasn't my mom.
It was my snow sister.
Apparently, the anxiety had gotten the best of them as well because she decided to POAS.
And it was positive.
Two wonderful, perfect little blue lines.
Positive.
My heart rejoiced and the floodgates opened. I shed many, many tears of complete and utter joy.
I realize the road ahead is a long one, but what an amazing beginning.
A true Christmas miracle.
Beta #1 to come on Thursday.
But in the meantime.....an excerpt I couldn't resist.....
"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished."
Only it wasn't my mom.
It was my snow sister.
Apparently, the anxiety had gotten the best of them as well because she decided to POAS.
And it was positive.
Two wonderful, perfect little blue lines.
Positive.
My heart rejoiced and the floodgates opened. I shed many, many tears of complete and utter joy.
I realize the road ahead is a long one, but what an amazing beginning.
A true Christmas miracle.
Beta #1 to come on Thursday.
But in the meantime.....an excerpt I couldn't resist.....
"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished."
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Wednesday, December 8, 2010
And now we wait...
I have a confession to make. I am not a patient person.
When I have something warming in the microwave, I glare at the timer as if to will it to go faster. I sometimes peek ahead when reading a book or magazine article. At the end of a semester, I check my school website compulsively looking for my grades. And you don't want to ever be in the same car as me when I'm stuck in traffic. EVER.
So yeah...you could say this 2 ww is killing me a little bit. And I'm not even the one going through it!
We had such an amazing visit with our "extended family". On Friday night, we went and enjoyed some holiday lights and had a wonderful dinner together (I generously offered to have some wine not only for myself, but on my snow sister's behalf as well! Such a good friend!). And then on Saturday, we hit New York City! For anyone who ever has the opportunity to visit NYC at Christmast time, I can not say emphatically enough---DO IT!! This is a tradition I've had for many, many years now and honestly have felt such a void the years I haven't been able to make it (such as last year, when I was practically bed-ridden with a subchorionic hematoma).
Thanks to my compulsive planning (I am the world's most organized traveler!), we managed to do about 80% of what we had planned! We were able to check out the Macy's window displays, see the Empire State Building, take in Times Square, Central Park, FAO Schwartz, Trump Tower, Rockefeller Center...and more! I have to say, this particular trip was already more special being able to share it with them, but seeing New York through the eyes of anyone who's never been before is like witnessing a small miracle.
I was so incredibly sad to say good bye at the end of the day. I cannot put into words the bond I have formed with this couple in such an unbelievably short period of time. It amazes me to think that 6 months ago I didn't even know they existed. And now I couldn't imagine my life without them.
One week from tomorrow. The results will be in and the wait will be over.
All fingers crossed. All prayers raised to heaven. It is in God's hands.
When I have something warming in the microwave, I glare at the timer as if to will it to go faster. I sometimes peek ahead when reading a book or magazine article. At the end of a semester, I check my school website compulsively looking for my grades. And you don't want to ever be in the same car as me when I'm stuck in traffic. EVER.
So yeah...you could say this 2 ww is killing me a little bit. And I'm not even the one going through it!
We had such an amazing visit with our "extended family". On Friday night, we went and enjoyed some holiday lights and had a wonderful dinner together (I generously offered to have some wine not only for myself, but on my snow sister's behalf as well! Such a good friend!). And then on Saturday, we hit New York City! For anyone who ever has the opportunity to visit NYC at Christmast time, I can not say emphatically enough---DO IT!! This is a tradition I've had for many, many years now and honestly have felt such a void the years I haven't been able to make it (such as last year, when I was practically bed-ridden with a subchorionic hematoma).
Thanks to my compulsive planning (I am the world's most organized traveler!), we managed to do about 80% of what we had planned! We were able to check out the Macy's window displays, see the Empire State Building, take in Times Square, Central Park, FAO Schwartz, Trump Tower, Rockefeller Center...and more! I have to say, this particular trip was already more special being able to share it with them, but seeing New York through the eyes of anyone who's never been before is like witnessing a small miracle.
I was so incredibly sad to say good bye at the end of the day. I cannot put into words the bond I have formed with this couple in such an unbelievably short period of time. It amazes me to think that 6 months ago I didn't even know they existed. And now I couldn't imagine my life without them.
One week from tomorrow. The results will be in and the wait will be over.
All fingers crossed. All prayers raised to heaven. It is in God's hands.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Signs
Today was transfer day for my snow sister. See the picture above? That was the bumper sticker on the vehicle in front of me during my drive to work this morning. I kid you not. Never in my life have I seen one before, and then today, of all days, there it was. I get goosebumps even now thinking of it.
In case you're wondering, yes. I'm superstitious. Incredibly so.
I was driving home earlier listening to Delilah. Perhaps you're familiar with Delilah? She does an evening radio program on what I'd guess you'd call "easy listening" stations. (Wow, I sound OLD!) Anyway, it just so happens her program is on our local station that is also playing Christmas music 24/7 which is all I'm listening to right now. Typically, she takes calls or reads letters, and then finds appropriate songs to play based on the situation. Tonight, I caught the tail end of a dedication she was making to a couple struggling with infertility. I wish I'd heard what song she'd chosen.
Today was transfer day, my friends. And it was a good day. It was a very good day.
When I received the picture on my phone this afternoon of that wonderful, perfect, amazing little blastocyst~~the first and only one they needed to thaw~~hatching away, eager to join his/her new family, I burst into tears.
And now we wait. And pray.
Snuggle in, little one. You're home.
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