We Are Certified !!

I apologize once again for being quiet in the last few months. We have been hosting visitors from Ireland in the last three months, which helped the time go by faster. I’ve also been busy at my new work.

If you are wondering about the paper work process, you need to ask Alan about it as he has patiently done most of it. He knows me very well indeed.

From my point of view, it has been a smooth sailing process. All I had to do was put my autograph at some designated lines then follow instructions from my man. You have an appointment for so and so on so and so. I did have to badger my boss about doing my employment letter and verification form, but she got it done in the end. It was a very flattering and gracious letter at that.

We had four face-to-face meetings with our social worker. The first was at their office. The questions were focused on our relationship. How did we get to the decision of adoption? Where are we at in the decision emotionally? How does god fall in our decision? The following week was at our house where she met with us individually. She asked us about our upbringing and personal faith. What sort of parenting style we grew up with? How did we come to know god as our personal savior? What sort of child we were and what kinds of challenges we had as adolescents. What were our fondest memories as children? On the following week, we drove back to her in the adoption office where she asked us about our relationship as a couple and about our family life. What do we do on weekends? What are our hobbies? How do we parent Sam? Finally, she came back to our house where she checked certain requirements a house needed to have. She looked for locked drawers (using the particular lock/brand recommended), baby gates, pool gate, baby seat and bed, and other safety features as such. She spent some time preparing us about what we might expect in the next few months in the waiting period. She also met Sam during which our darling little boy just charmed her and after which she announced our qualification for certification.

So where do we go from here? We wait. Our social worker gave us a projection of about 18-24 months. In the meantime, I am putting 10 portfolios together to show prospective mothers. The portfolios basically advertise us. The first two pages should summarize us as a couple/family then the rest are photos, which show the reason why we should be picked, why we qualify as parents.

I’m afraid the blog will be quiet once again for the next few months. Hopefully, my next blog would be news of our new baby.

Moving On...

I apologize for last post’s rather mellow-dramatic effect and perhaps a little TMI. I hope you were able to get through it without tears (wink, I won’t mention names). So aunt irma has come, 12 days late, but it came today in fact. We are coping. Sam has been our consolation. A friend adviced that perhaps I might have had a pregnancy but ended in miscarriage. Many women go through it without noticing because it (the miscarriage) happens so early in the cyle that many just mistake it as 'late' period.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

-Jeremiah 29:11-13

In my quiet times, my mind constantly returns to these verses. What a comfort it is to know that we serve a God who only desires good things for us. I believe this, for us, and for all who love the Lord.

I know it sounds so cliché but these times have been very good for us as a family. While many families might have been broken due to infertility, I feel it has glued us together as a family even more. No, it wouldn’t be so bad if Sam were our only child. I think we are grappling the idea that God, too, will take care of Sam and his needs, the only child or not. We've known this all along, or course, but knowing it and believing it are two different things.

This is not to say that we are no longer going through adoption. We are simply processing through many thoughts prior to our adopting which may have a big impact later. And as you can see, plenty of issues and emotions have already been had in this adoption process. The encouraging thing for me is that as I read through my adoption book, many of the possible issues it suggests for us to think about have already come about prior to reading them (most of which were mentioned in As the Mourning Yields to the Daylight). I feel God is before us paving the way. Indeed, God is an awesome God.

We don’t think we are ready to move on with the adoption just yet but here are some of the developments in the process. While we may not care for the child’s sex, Sam has consistently said he prefers a baby sister. We have ruled out international adoption primarily due to the wait imposed on the countries in which we are interested. We want to go with a Christian agency probably with Bethany. Their first available orientation for inquiring families is in March, which we plan on attending.

One BIG question we have: with open adoption, is it going to be an issue if there is a possibility of a move to Ireland later in the future?

Another Ride

I would like to first thank you for all your encouraging words. We feel blessed to be surrounded by wonderful friends.

In my last post, I raved about the freedom of moving on. This week, I’ve had another roller coaster ride, a whirlwind of sort.

Well, As aunt irma hasn’t come around to visit (well, not really), I’d taken a (few) home pregnancy test(s). Has god finally heard the cries of my heart? Could he, in fact, want us to have a second child of our own?

To make a very long story short, this morning, I got a positive PT. I fell on my knees in disbelief sobbing like a toddler whose candy has just been taken away from him (sounds like someone I know). I took a picture of it on my phone to send to Alan. The shock in him! He didn’t know what to say and even didn’t know what it meant. I called my OB to make an appointment. It was just too, too good to be true. The OB said that they don’t need to see me until mid February, or late February rather. Are you mad?! I told them that I needed to see the doctor and after telling them my story, they agreed that they needed to see me…in an hour. Since I’ve lived a life of luxury this month (meaning I haven’t been able to get out of my pajamas until around 10 am – no haters please), I had to rush out. They wanted me in by 10 am.

Alan and I came in. We had a scan, no sac. But she poked around a whole lot anyway and took a few snapshots and some measurements.

After waiting for what felt like a million hours, the doctor finally came in to discuss my situation. She was pretty positive as my linings looked pretty good, but that she’d order a blood test just in case I need supplementing. Gosh, we were pretty knackered by this point, still not letting ourselves excited about the whole thing. I don’t really have any symptoms except maybe for being a basket case about it, letting tears out occasionally; I cried in the car, in the bathroom, in the garage, anywhere really where I felt no one was looking. The doctor was very empathetic and sympathetic that she’d rushed my results informing me that I’ll get a call from her later this afternoon. Before we said our goodbyes, she checked whether we had progesterone at home, should she give us prescription for pills… No doctor, we have vials of them. Anything to do with fertility, we have. We haven’t had the heart to get rid of them yet hoping that they’d turn back into cash. Nothing more than what we’d paid.

After waiting for another million years (I tell you, my hair might have turned grey by the time I got the phone call), finally, at 5.15 pm, my phone rang. We skipped all the pleasantries and she went right to it. 

“It’s negative honey, I’m sorry.”

What can I say? What should I say? A whirlpool of emotions and words had gone through my head. One strongest one was, “Why the hell would god want to play with my emotion like this?” Then I immediately remembered that Alan also knows about it and he’d probably not been able to do a thing at work the entire day. I felt so bad for telling him about it, giving him hope only for me to take it back.

Yes, I felt anger…towards god for playing with my emotions…towards me for letting myself go through this again after all that I’ve been through…towards the PT company for creating such inaccurate device (it isn’t really, but I need to be angry at someone or something). I’m confused and disappointed. I don’t understand what god is doing and I’m feeling defeated.

As the Mourning Yields to the Daylight

I have to admit, there’s a sense of freedom in finally deciding to adopt. No more wondering whether I should order a glass of wine with my dinner; no more half giving up coffee; no more having two minds about getting into the Jacuzzi or the bath. I don’t have to wonder anymore whether or not I should get my period. No more taking a home test kit just in case my lightheadedness or tiredness is due to eventual pregnancy and consequently, no more disappointments after the first sign of my menstruation. Then remaining hopeful that maybe it’s just the slight bleeding from implantation like I had before (I had a slight bleeding for 5 days before I found out that I was pregnant with Sam) until the actual period comes. Yes, I’m finally free!! No more monthly roller coaster I seem to have been on for 6 years. The downside now is figuring out the next few weeks, months or even years of waiting and knowing how to respond to well-wishers.

Today after church, a couple from our community group asked us how the IVF turned out. At the end of the conversation, I caught myself saying, “Thank you for asking.” and Alan agreeing unequivocally grateful for the question. They’re the first ones to ask outside our family and a few of my confidants. I know it must be difficult to know what to say, what to ask or how to ask in situations like ours unless one has been in the same or similar circumstance. Know this though, asking or saying something is better than avoiding it like a disease. It’s actually more hurtful not to say anything. I know I’m Asian but I’m not very good at the Asian way either. You know, going around the subject. I know exactly where they want to go, but they keep going around the bush hoping that I’d catch on and bring up the subject myself because god forbid if they asked, they’d hurt my feelings. If we have confided in you, you have the right to ask.

So how should you ask: Now that you know that our IVF attempts have gone nowhere you no longer have to ask. But should you find yourself in the same situation again, here are a few pointers. First, don’t ask a couple who have been married for years when are they going to have children (unless you are close friends). Stay clear, you never know what the situation is. Don’t wave a baby in their faces saying, “see, you could already have one of these.” (I swear, someone did this to Alan and me. The lady had already been taunting us about getting pregnant for years, constantly asking us why we’re not having children yet, claiming that if we waited too long, it’d be too late. At a dinner party one night, she took one of her grandbabies, waving it in front of Alan and me claiming that it would be wonderful to have one of those. No, she is not family. No she is not a close friend. No, she had no business. Up to this day, I still could not be in the same room as that person). If you know they can’t pregnant, don’t hide your own pregnancy from them thinking that it might make them feel bad. Infertility is not something we wish on others and for pig’s sake, we CAN be happy for you. But don’t overdo it by talking about how bad your pregnancy is or how fat you look. Honestly, I really enjoyed being fat. If your friends are going through IVF and they had confided in you, count yourself both blessed and responsible. It is now your responsibility to follow up. “How did your treatments go?” is a start. “How has the medications been affecting you.” “Who’s administering the shots?” And for pig’s sake, don’t just ask, “HOW ARE YOU?” knowing exactly what you want to know. Infertility or IVF is not Voldemort, mention his name and all his wizards would come after you. When the answer is negative, just say, “I’m sorry.” No really, that’s all you have to say and rest in the discomfort of the silence. Don’t say more.

I know that it’s human nature to say something encouraging. These phrases are not in themselves bad, but to me, they are actually more hurtful.

“Don’t give up. Keep trying.” – yes, if I had a hundred dollars every time I heard those words, we could probably afford adoption by now. “Don’t give up.” All I heard there is “give up.” I may have realized my limitations, and so did my fertility doctor, but I am not defeated. So you know, we have not given up.

“Keep praying, god will provide.” – Now, this is a tricky one. Like I said, they are not bad phrases at all, but my problem with this one is that more often than not, God provides in a much different way than what we have envisioned in our prayers. So what if I didn’t get pregnant? Does that mean God does not love me, and therefore did not provide? Does that mean that I had no faith? Does it mean that I hadn't prayed enough? I can’t take this against my well-wishers and this reaction probably reflect my insecurities more than anything else, nevertheless…

“You can always adopt.” – I can always adopt? Just like that, my problem fixed. I can always adopt. First of all, it’s no that easy. Adoption is not that easy. Secondly, adoption is not a backup. It is not a second rate. For me, we are adopting because we feel called. Sometimes, when we want something so bad and god is not providing in a way we want him to, we step back and ask god for vision and clarification. Our desire to have another child is still there. There are other ways to have a child. To us, adoption is where we feel god is leading us. There’s a big difference and it is an important difference.

“Have you tried…” – Yes, we’ve heard it all and tried it all. Acupuncture, massage, yoga, getting drank (not quite tried having sex in the back of the car or in a room next to mom’s though). Advising them only suggests that we don’t know anything about the very thing we are suffering, neither do our fertility specialist, acupuncturist, endocrinologist, gynecologist,…

“My sister couldn’t have children…then she finally got pregnant.” Not helping. Just shot up and be quiet.

Now you’re thinking, “geez this is so difficult. I’d rather just stay away hoping that we don’t come across people who can’t have children” Yes, it is difficult and yes, that is why more often than not, we feel so alone. The stigma of infertility in this society is so potent (as it was in King Henry VIII's time), its no wonder we keep it to ourselves. I've had those super fertile women who are so patronizing in their tones as though being infertile means being inferior to them. Thank god I don't think that. No, the most difficult part of it all is that infertility is a type of loss that is never really recognized. When someone dies, we have funerals to mourn the loss. When couples get a divorce, there’s a document that separates their properties, a document that finalizes their marriage. “Many significant beginnings and ending in our lives are marked by rituals that publicly mark the transition and invite the support- either in celebration or in mourning – of others.” Said Patricia Irwin Johnson in Adopting after Intertility. What about infertility? At what point do we mourn? What marks this loss, end of hope, end of dream, end of a desire, end of something I can't quite quantify? What’s worse for us is that we have Sam. So technically, we can’t even claim to be one of them, infertile. 

But take heart, that is why I’m writing this.

Halfway Through the Most Difficult Part

As I sit in our family room thinking about how much we love our new home, I can't help but compare the process of getting here to the process of adoption. Much like buying a house, it was something we always wanted to do. The problem was not only having the means to afford a mortgage but also knowing the right time and the right place to buy and settle, and all took time.

Alan and I have considered the idea of adoption after we had Sam. The idea was never something of a thunderbolt that hit us on the head suddenly. The problem is not only having the means to afford the adoption process but also knowing which avenue to go about it and with which agency. After spending most of our savings on 4 rounds of IUI and essentially 4 attempts at IVF (This doesn't sound as bleak now that we have a Sam to show for) and living on one income, adoption sounds more daunting than promising.

So where are we in the process: It's hard to believe that it's been nearly two months since we sat down and finally decided to pursue the adoption route to grow our little family of three. I was very distraught with the news of my inability to conceive a child that I wasn't even able to talk about adopting a child without losing it, never mind reading/researching on the topic. I was paralyzed in my own misery for nearly a month. Thanks to family and friends' constant encouragement and prayers, God have finally shown me the light at the end of the tunnel. Trouble is, Alan had to be my rock (thank you my love) that he hasn't had the time to grieve himself. Now that I've risen from the grave, Alan has finally been able to breath and deal with his own tunnel. So where are we in the process? At its embryonic (pun intended) stage, albeit not on square one. We have finally gated our pool in the garden, read up on the different avenues of adoption and familiarized ourselves with 2 or 3 agencies.

The next step: Pray. I know it sounds wanting, but we already have the desire and the information. All there is really is the direction (and perhaps time to process all the information in) from God.