Part 4- I’m a MOM! or How A Nooner Saved Us $10K

Awe, how sweet infertile couple adopts a son and all is peachy keen. It’s like a damn sitcom, huh? Yeah, this story isn’t over yet, not even close.

Little Man came home with us and I learned how to be a Mom. I’m an only child; obviously I had no siblings, no real younger kids around me. Yeah, I have younger cousins, but I was not involved in day to day babyhood with them. This was a brand new ball game. I was never a baby person, babies scared me. They wiggled, cried, pooped, I had no idea what to do. I was always terrified I’d drop the poor kid. I always teased that Jeff was the baby whisper, and once they walked I’d take over. Or I’d joke that once I had a baby of my own, I’d hold it and such. But, if I broke/dropped my baby, that was my bad, I didn’t want to break another Mom’s kid! Lucky for me, Little Man was too young to realize I had no idea what I was doing. But, he was fed, he slept, he was entertained, he was happy and he was MINE.

Since things were so hush-hush, I never had a traditional baby shower, but we did have a Welcome Home party. Everyone got to come and meet Little Man. I made a secret baby registry; I researched things like Pee-Pee T-Pees and BPA free things. I did what I did, if I did not know about it I researched. I’m geeky that way, it’s a very endearing quality I have.

So, at this time Little Man was not ours “free and clear.” Actually, it took his birth parents about a week to sign all the proper paperwork to terminate their rights, so we were officially his foster parents. Once rights were terminated, we were finally his prospective adoptive parents. Phew.

Little Man and I scheduled a dinner with D about 2 weeks after he was born. Holy cow, she went from 9 months pregnant to a size 2 in 2 weeks. She looked awesome. We met at a local Fridays. We caught up and chatted, all was well. We played “pass the baby” and took pictures. As we finished up our meal, a lady at the table next to us spoke up. She said, “Aw, cute baby. Whose is it?” It was too early in the game, I had not developed my ‘keep your nose out of my business’ stare. I blatantly said, “Both of ours.” Which led to a quizzical stare, I should have simply left it at that. But, I explained – D was the Birth Mother and I was the Adoptive Mom. Apparently that news was stunning enough as Miss Nosey was speechless. D and I quietly walked out.

I learned pretty quickly that I wanted the “adoptive” part to be Little Man’s story to tell (and here I am blogging about it – duh Kim- you are oversharing!) . It’s not mine to share with the world, well it is, but I don’t have to. He’s my Little Man, enough said.

Fall arrived; Jeff and I just had a blast with this new little person. Little by little we got baby furniture for his room, had a mural painted for him, filled in all those missing pieces. He wasn’t leaving, so let’s allow Babys-R-Us to EXPLODE in our home.

We met Little Man’s birth parents and birth grandmothers for dinner in late October. Dinner was nice, and Little Man ONLY wanted Mommy or Daddy. Birth Mother or Father picked him up, he wailed, same with the grandparents. Little Man bonded with us, he knew who is REAL parents were at only 3 months. We were secretly elated and simultaneously saddened as we knew this was not the visit they all hoped for. At some point this month, I also remember commenting to Jeff and I have been “drug free” (fertility drugs that is) for over a year (Kim pumps fist into the air). I felt great; I was free of all that crap. I had my son, screw you infertility. At that point we also decided to no longer store our 2 totcicles (the 2 embryo’s we had frozen from IVF#2). If we wanted child #2, we would consider either a fresh cycle or possible adoption again. We did not know if Little Man would ever have a sibling. Remember I’m an only child and I’m OK. Geeze, why the stupid stigma?

Jeff and I still had a few months of monthly social work visits; our adoption with Little Man would not be final until January of 2009. It’s a 6 month process in our state.

Funny aside here – When we had our formal Home Study and first monthly visit, the house was spotless. Jeff and I were dressed in our casual preppy church wearing gear, looking right out of the J Crew catalog. By our 3^rd monthly visit, I had projectile vomit in my hair and on my shirt, Jeff had on his work clothes, the house was in chaos- you know like new parents of a 3 month old should be. It was like on “The Real World,” when we “stopped being nice and started being real.”

Our social worker even had the audacity to even suggest we consider using “protection.” Yeah, right. It’s been 7 years since we used anything like that, as if!! Hello, we have sperm/egg issues. My party girls don’t like his “stuff,” I doubt they start liking it now. As if having a 3 month old in the house, WITH a pending adoption, causes one to relax. Not.so.much. That social worker- she’s a funny lady.

Halloween, Little Man was a lobster. AND YES, like every good parent I placed my child in a big stock pot with Old Bay and a Lobster cookbook next to it. Then proceeded to take a boat load of pictures! Thanksgiving was great; he was a perfect little turkey!!

In December, my dear, dear friend and her husband traveled to see us for a weekend. She too had some fertility issues. We agreed it sucked, but we also both were excited that I kicked infertility and became a parent my way. It was a weekend full of food and lots of drinks. But, weird thing, that red wine just didn’t taste quiet right.

That Monday, my friend and I emailed, her monthly friend came to visit, and I realized mine had not. Whatever, it comes it goes, it never skips a visit. Huh. The next day, I had an eye doctor appointment. I was looking for something under my sink and ran across and old pregnancy test. I thought, I take this and Aunt Flow will be knocking at my door within the hour. That is how it always works. I took it, set it down and wondered off. Came back to look at it. Looked again, and then made sure it wasn’t accidentally an ovulation predictor stick. Huh, interesting. There are 2 lines. That one looks sorta dark. This test thinks I’m pregnant. No way. It must be a false positive, I’m infertile and I have a 4 month old. No way. Huh, well maybe. Let’s not overreact, let’s get another test on my way back from the eye doctor. I sent a picture to Jeff of the test, his text back was “are you ovulating or something.” Uh, no, this test seems to think I might be knocked up. Wouldn’t that be a hoot.

Woah, Nelly… I picked up a few more tests, and tests 2 thru 8 said, yes indeed I seem to be mysteriously carrying extra HCG in my body, meaning I was pregnant. Confused, elated, overjoyed, scared shitless and dumbfounded pretty well describe my state of mind. Yeah, Hi, um, I’m infertile and have a 4month old on my hip, how exactly can I be PG? Hello? Someone, please explain this to me. I mean, seriously, we spent how much with medical science to become parents and instead we got our hearts broken. Umm, I did the “baby dance” at the right times, then sat there for 30minutes with a pillow under my hips WILLING Jeff’s dudes to find an egg –NOTHING. Apparently, you must be semi-sleep deprived, find an extra 10minutes for romance, and then go back to work. I’m sorry but that was NOT in any “Fighting Infertility” books I read, or on any message boards I frequented. I’m pretty sure that’s not very scientific, that my friend, is a mixture of dumb luck and belated answered prayers. Hence the “how a nooner saved me $10K.”

Like any dumbfounded lady who found out she was *surprise* pregnant. I called my OB/GYN. The lady answered the phone and said, “Oh well, we can get you an appointment in mid-January.” A month away- NO. Kim: “No, that will not work. You don’t understand I’m INFERTILE. I’ve done countless IUI’s and IVF’s that did not work. I cannot wait a month; I need a beta drawn now to even see if this pregnancy is viable. No, there HAS to be something sooner.” Appointment Lady: “Please hold.” Ughghg, while on hold this is what I’m thinking. Look lady, I’m not normal, this is SERIOUSLY a miracle like Fatima. Grant it, I have not seen the image of the Blessed Virgin, nor have 3 kids bowed down before me- but THIS ranks up there with the Immaculate Conception. Seriously, I will not wait 4 weeks…. Appointment Lady: “We pulled your chart, Dr. F wants to see you FRIDAY (in 3 days).” Sign me up, appointment made.

I swear Friday took about 3 weeks to arrive. We arrived at the appoint with Connor in his car seat. The doc and his nurse crack up at the irony of it all, so glad that was not lost on them. They do the Beta, he does an exam, and it is confirmed. I’m pregnant, numbers look good. I tell the story of IVF #2 and how that ended, knowing my paranoia, Dr. F agreed to an Ultrasound (U/S) in 2 weeks. That is right after Christmas….

We spill our secret to the same close family and friends with STRICT instructions to keep their yaps shut as to not jinx my uterus. It was a Christmas miracle, a la The Brady Bunch (remember when Mrs. Brady sang when the retirement home collapsed and trapped Mike. Her singing gave him strength to free himself – or something like that). Obviously, I had to tell Irena the Yoga lady, as I did not want to squish this little multi-celled alien living in me. She understood the “shhh” factor on this and was a willing participant to help me continue my yoga safely.

The 2 weeks passed at it was U/S time; Jeff and I were both terrified. Again we also had our Little Man with us. Ultrasound Lady did her thing (and NO all those people on TV that have Ultrasounds abdominally like at 2 seconds pregnant are WRONG- that doesn’t happen until after 12 weeks- stupid incorrect TV shows!!!). Again, Jeff and I found ourselves in a room with the dildo cam the internal ultra-sound do-hickey. I laid there thinking, “see a fetal pole, see a gestational sac, see LIFE!” I held my breath; she takes measurements and goes, “Look at that a little heart beat.” Tears sting my eyes, a heart beat, it’s only 5w6d (5weeks, 6 days); can that be? We visit the doc, he’s concerned the heartbeat is a little slow, so U/S in 2 more weeks. Thanks to Dr. Google, I learn seeing a heart beat so early can happen. It seems this little beings heart JUST started beating. Wow, this little one wanted to live and to show us that “it” was alive.

--January 2009—

We did not tell our social worker a WORD about expecting. We were too terrified it could mess up something with Little Man’s finalization. But, all our visits and paperwork was complete. Adoption Day would be January 27, 2009 – 2 days after my birthday – 367days after D and I originally met.

We decided to call “it” SeaMonkey. It’s a good enough in-utero name. So, SeaMonkey’s next U/S showed an even stronger heart beat. Next decision was did we want any pre testing to test for possible birth defects or test for possible downs syndrome or other genetic anomalies. Nope. This SeaMonkey broke all the rules to get here, if SM (SeaMonkey) is born with 2 heads and 16 fingers, so be it. That was our decision, baby is either healthy and all is well, or we will deal with issues if they present themselves. Again, God didn’t give me a check list on what kind of kids I could handle. We were willing to accept anything.

By birthday came and I was sick. The first trimester was evil, smells killed me, brushing my teeth was the worst. I had to stop giving Little Man certain baby food due to the stench (peas and green beans literally made me green). I was tired. But, guess what, I had a little 6 month old to chase around! It was exhausting and super fun all at the same time. Then came Adoption Day.

Jeff and I and all our parents had planned to attend court that day. However, Mother Nature had a different plan. Snow, sleet, ice – a massive winter storm shut down the city. Curse you Mother Nature you will NOT take this away from me. We kept watching the city closings, but City Hall and our courts were open, by God we WILL make it even if I have to shovel my way there. Unfortunately, the weather kept my Dad and our Social Worker from making it. But, we were there, our lawyer was there and the magistrate was there – the key players. After answering some questions, it was official, Connor was ours. He’s my son; no one can take him away - EVER. To celebrate we all went to breakfast, no it wasn’t at IHOP. The next day, the city was shutdown with that Winter Storm. And we were a family, all snuggled in. Next up, let’s baptize that kid.

February brought Little Man’s baptism. D and her family even attended. Go Open Adoption! It was tough for her, the priest did a prayer for the mother and father, which I think hearing those words out loud, stabbed her in the heart a little. I could feel her pain. Little Man’s baptism also marked 12 weeks in my pregnancy, so I took the opportunity to tell D face to face that I was expecting. It was one of the nicest conversations ever; she hugged me and said, “Now he gets to be a part of a real family – well you know what I mean!” And I did, I hugged her and thanked her for making all this possible. It all happened due to a “mistake” an 18 year old made. Without her “mistake” I would never have been doubly blessed. I was meant to be Little Man’s Mom, apparently Little Man picked out a sibling in heaven and said, “Wouldn’t be a hoot if you came to be in my family? Give me 4 months to break them in, then you come join in the fun. Let’s drive those parents’ nuts!”

Once I passed 12 weeks, my goal was 25 weeks. Anyone who has been in the infertility world knows that 25weeks equals increased viability incase the baby was born pre-mature. No, I did not want that, and actually had a sister of a good friend going through that roller coaster of a premie. But, I knew 25weeks was good- anything beyond that was better. “Normal” pregnant people strive for 36weeks, but I knew the other side of this. I knew the horror and heartbreak that can affect pregnant ladies. I have never EVER been as paranoid as I was being pregnant. Physically the pregnancy was perfect; emotionally it was taxing for Jeff and me. We knew that dark side of things and it scared the hell out of us.

We found out the sex of SeaMonkey- it was gonna be a girl. A girl? What do I know about little girls? I am a horrible non-frilly, non-girlie person. Sorry in advanced SeaMonkey, Momma has no idea how to do hair or make-up. Maybe we can learn together. At least I can do teach you a prefect cartwheel and a mean downward facing dog.

Little Man kept growing and growing! Next thing I know he’s crawling, cutting teeth, and standing Not to be out done by Father’s Day 2008, Little Man raised the bar and decided that was the day he was going to walk. Wow, Jeff gets pretty awesome Father’s Day gifts, huh?

Next thing we know, it’s July – Little Man’s first Birthday. My dear friend who visited me in December decided to make the flight in to see Little Man and to see me all 8 months pregnant. Oh, and did I mention, she was finally blessed with a miracle of her own? She was 6 months along, also expecting a little girl.

Little Man had a great first birthday! D came to visit, but his birth father decided not to attend- his choice. I reached another goal at least my kids would be 12 months apart, phew. The day after Little Man’s birthday, my friend took me to breakfast and surprised me with a Baby Shower. It was just us two, but the kindness of the moment was not lost on me. In our area, you only get 1 shower. Little Man’s welcome home party counted as my shower, so this little personal shower was the closest thing I ever had to a traditional baby shower. It was perfect!

Lucky for me the summer was not horribly hot. Jeff and I enjoyed our last few weeks with Little Man as an only child. We prepared for SeaMonkey’s arrival – even if we could not decide on a name. We took nightly walks and just passed the time. And yes, every Saturday, I did my yoga.

One day I woke up and something felt a little weird. Needless to say, that evening I was in the hospital, and the next morning I gave birth to our beautiful daughter. For the full birth story (again un-censored) click here: http://lovey1226.blogspot.com/2009/11/calista-chesla-maries-birth-story.html

Two weeks after I gave birth, I returned back to yoga, and to Irena, my yoga lady. A sweet lady in our class knitted SeaMonkey a beautiful blanket. Months later she commented to me that I was looking good. “You look good, when I met you, you were already pregnant. It’s hard for me to see you and not see the pregnant lady.”

Holy cow, there it was. I was “that pregnant lady” in yoga. How fricking amazing was that? I wanted to walk around my whole pregnancy with a shirt that said, “I’m not your normal fertile lady. I’m not like you, my story is different.” But, to look at me from the outside, there I was just another pregnant lady with her infant son, just another pregnant lady doing yoga, just a typical looking pregnant lady. I looked so “normal” but my road to parenthood was anything BUT normal.

That is essentially my story to becoming a parent. It’s unique I’ll give you that. However, I hate the comment, “Oh see you finally relaxed that’s how you got pregnant.” Or “Oh I know someone who adopted and got pregnant right after! See all you needed to do was adopt!”

Ever look at a Mom with a 4 month old? Is she the picture of Zen – not so much. I don’t know how I became so blessed; I’m not sure what I did or didn’t do. Was it divine intervention of my Gramma in heaven? Was it fate? Did I finally open to grace/ the Universe? I dunno. But, I know, Little Man had to come to our family first. Until then, no science would allow us to be parents. Your children have a way of finding you, some a little more uniquely that others.

Thank you ALL for reading this blog novella; it been awesome to write it and re-live my adventures. I hope this can give people an insight to the disease of infertility, the reality of the adoption process and just get people talking. I hate how the subjects of infertility and adoption are soo taboo and yet, it affects so many of us. But, if this gives just 1 person or couple hope, to realize you can fight this and you are not alone; I’ve done what I set out to do. I hope you found this entertaining and educational. I hope next time you hear of a couple trying to conceive, you stop and give them support they need – not the horrible advice to “just relax.”