My Story – Part 2 – From Greif to Renewed Hope

Thank God Jeff is wiser than he looks. He knew I needed something, I think he could tell I was losing my sense of self. Once that Yoga Van drove by, he even agreed I should try it. I remember him exactly telling me, “You should do it. Try it, do it for YOU. You don’t do anything for you.”

We had our follow-up visit with the infertility doctor. Although he was sensitive to the situation that our pregnancy was not viable, he was “excited that [we] actually got pregnant.” I found it very difficult to share in his joy. Months later a lady I knew who had infertility issues in the 1980’s and built her family through adoption told me, flat out, “At least you got pregnant, if only for 8 weeks; some of us never even get that far.” Wow, way to drop me down a peg. So, not only was I an infertile, I was now an infertile with a pregnancy/mis-carriage under her belt. Apparently, that type of “infertile” is different than just a “normal” infertile that always tests negative. Much to my shock, some people envied ME for those 8 weeks I had with our baby failing to grow inside me. Envied me? Weird. The loss I felt after those 8 weeks was much more devastating than any negative PG test I ever took. That loss shook me to my core, it stayed with me. When we would have been 12 weeks PG, I was hurt. Hurt I could not be that PG lady telling everyone I was expecting. Each week had a new hurt, and a little healing. Hard, it was so very hard.

That Yoga Van haunted me. Like anything new, it took a level of courage to get up the nerve to try yoga and get out of my comfort zone. I spoke with another softball lady; she also wanted to try yoga. So, she made a call and we went to our first intro to Yoga Class. This was a few weeks after our mis-carriage, I was still pretty low. The doctor had released me back to my normal activities. I knew from reading, that yoga and positive imagery could again assist with pregnancy and a better response from IVF treatments. Willing to try anything, let’s do it.

I walked into the studio, and this super cute, energetic lady pops up from behind the desk. Then my world did a mini-crash around me. All the positive energy radiating around her was not just positive energy, it was a glow.  She was pregnant -like 5/6 months along. Cute yoga lady, with an equally cute pregnant belly, it was like I walked into my own personal little hell. I simply could not comprehend the odds of this situation. My gut said, gently walk out and never look back. Kim, the universe is just being mean to you and standing before you is your nemesis – a pregnant lady. I felt like I had been socked in the gut. Ouch.

Yoga lady gave us little forms to fill out, typical stuff, but it asked for recent injuries/surgeries. I listed my d and c as simply “abdominal surgery.” She was a stranger; I was not ready to share my loss with a stranger. I remember walking into class with a heavy heart, and I remember the sting of tears in my eyes. Damn it Kim, get it together, it’s just YOGA.

Class went really well, I really enjoyed it. Yoga lady was a great teacher, and soon, I found myself being OK with her pregnancy. She was rejoicing each class about how beautiful it felt. I’m not sure of her story and nor did I ever ask, but I could tell she felt blessed and very lucky to be pregnant. Maybe it was her honesty that made me accept I was taking class from a PG lady. Those next 6 weeks of intro to yoga class flew by, and I found myself getting stronger physically and mentally. I was beginning to finally heal, and beginning to see a glimpse of Kim.

I continued on with Yoga and moved up to the next class. No longer was I a beginner yogini, I was in Flow/ Mixed level yoga. Sweet yoga lady was getting pretty advanced in her pregnancy so I had a new wonderful teacher. The best way to describe my new teacher was she had the Spirit of Aloha. Sounds pretty granola of me, huh? But, she was. There was a different energy to these classes, more advanced moves, more challenging. And, another pregnant lady; did I mention she was due early February 2008 – around the same time I would have been due. Dear Universe, don’t just stab me in the heart, let’s twist it a little too. Ugh.

Jeff and I decided we were officially on an extended break from cycling. We had the new house, with LOTS of projects. Lots of wall paper removal, painting, and decorating. We found ourselves surrounding us with our friends again to celebrate Bengal Sundays. We tried to accept any invitations to do something; we were tired of living in our little shell. We both agreed we need to get out, spend time with others and begin to heal as a couple.

During this time my Gramma as took a turn. She had been battling Alzheimer’s, a truly horrible disease. The only small blessing was she never remembered I was pregnant, nor did I ever have to tell her about the loss. She was blissfully unaware of the world around her, but having her own little interpersonal war in her brain full of jumbled memories. In the beginning of December 2007, my Gramma passed away. It was very difficult, we were very close – as close and my Mom and I. We planned her funeral and her wake. We decided to host the wake at our new home. A home we had planned to fill with love, laughter and children, was now a home filled with a grieving family. That was another bad day – see why I really did not like 2007?

I still went to my yoga every Saturday. Every Saturday afternoon, my mind, body and soul felt refreshed. It was good for me; I was getting stronger and more flexible. I would come home to Jeff and show him the “new move” I learned. He would laugh at me as I tried to re-create it all. We were beginning to get happy again, able to accept joy again. I finally began to find myself and the hurt of my loss began to lessen. It was never forgotten, nor will it ever be. True healing began.

We rang in the New Year surrounded by our friends. We hosted a New Years Eve party and everyone had a great time. 2008 had got to be better, right???

It was a typical chilly January morning, in 2008. One of those mornings you simply want to stay in your jammies and bum around. So, we did. We skipped church to play video games. Jeff, the dogs and I all snuggled on the couch relaxing. Ring, ring. Crap the phone, screw it. Leave a message and we’ll call you back. Pure laziness kept me on the couch. Jeff got up to make us a snack and check the message. As he was holding the phone, I could see a shift in his face. Immediately, I had that gut feeling something was not right. I stared at him as he listened to the message, and then hung up the phone. His tone and his words were very measured and precise.

“That was Linda (Jeff’s Step-Mom). She and Dad went to a Bible study. There was a lady there….she stated her 18 year old daughter was pregnant and thinking about adoption. Linda approached the Bible study coordinator to ask to be introduced to the lady. Linda told the lady our story. The lady asked Linda to have us send her daughter a letter.”

Right there. That moment was a major turning point in our lives. What was our goal? Our goal was to be parents. Did the child have to be biologic? Was that important to us? Could we adopt a child? We have the funds from the sale of our house just sitting in a savings account ready for our next cycle, do we need to cycle? Would this girl even consider us? I could finally be a Mom. Jeff could be a Dad. Wow, really, we could finally be a FAMILY. Family.

Immediately, I jumped up went upstairs and Googled – “Dear Birth Parent” letters. By that evening I had drafted a 6 page letter about us, with pictures. We received an email the next day on 1-14-08 with a name and address to send it to. My goal was to have this thing written and sent by 1-16-08. We went though many drafts. I had a few readers assist me with editing, but eventually we had a masterpiece (well as close to a masterpiece and as of my writing could be). Our letter was 5 pages with pictures --- I later learned most "Dear Birth Parent" letters are simply 2 pages. Lucky for us, we knew the girl's name so I was able to title it directly to her, and not a generic "To Someone Special or Dear Birth Parent." At least titling it directing to her, made it feel more personal. I honestly did write this JUST for her.

I remember going to the store to find the "perfect" envelope. I did not want to fold the letter, I wanted it perfect. So, I remember debating between 3 different envelops- I choose one. Went home, placed our letter in, and said a prayer.  I also went so far as to call an Adoption Attorney. He gave me general information and a place to look into getting a home study. Wow, that phone call was a catalyst that began a whole new chapter of our lives. I think that chapter was titled, “Jeff and Kim Consider adoption- now what the heck do we do?”

A couple days later (1-17-- I believe), I received an email from potential birth mom. We did a few emails, then nothing. But, I wanted to meet her so badly, to really show her who I was and give her an idea of 1/2 of the couple behind the letter. I called her on 1-25 and asked her to lunch. We decided to meet at a local bagel shop. I went through numerous outfits. I was looking for the perfect “Look at me I’m normal and pick me to be the adoptive Mom” outfit.
I arrived at the bagel shop and this bouncing, bright girl with beautiful long hair comes in. That was her, I have met D. We ordered our bagels, and sat down. I did not buy her lunch, which I really wanted to do. The Adoption Lawyer said to not pay for ANYTHING. I felt rude, but damn it if a $3 bagel sandwich could make this possible adoption illegal, well honey yous got to buy your OWN sammich. We just began chatting, and talking, and talking. She used to do gymnastics until she hurt her back. We just talked about everything and anything. It was so natural and so easy.

After we said good-bye, we hugged and said how great it was to meet. I left and went to a local Stamping store (it's across form the Bagel place and I hardly find the time to get there!). At the stamp store my head was spinning even more. I knew I wanted to send her a note, thanking her for meeting with me. So I found a few stamps and ran across one that said, "Adoption is Just Another Word for Love." I debated getting the stamp, but right then and there I did. I figured hopefully I'd use it for us, if not I now have an adoption stamp.

Later that evening (my Birthday no less!), Jeff took me to a movie. My choice was Juno. Funny thing is I had heard an interview with the writer of the movie in late Nov/ early Dec (check my Sept 2010 archives for more info on that). So, my interest was peaked - but then D RAVED about it. So, I had to see it. I cried, I held Jeff's hand tight and cried even more. We could be that adoptive couple, that could be us. OMG- THAT COULD BE US!!!!

February came and a friend’s daughter had her baby on what should have been my due date. I figured at least something good happened on that day. Luckily for us, the renewed faith in the world with a “possible adoption” made things look brighter. We received a HUGE packet of information for the home study. Wrote a few HUGE checks to the adoption people and waited. I think we sent D a card. It was like being part of a job interview. You want to company to remember you so you send emails and letters, just to stay on their radar. That was my goal, to stay on her radar. 

Phew… OK let’s stop there.