Smooth Operator

So way back when we first started this journey, my doctor laid out a big roadmap of where we might be headed and what might be happening. One of the last things he mentioned was exploratory surgery to diagnose or rule out (and treat if necessary) endometriosis. The possibility of endometriosis came up again when I had some lingering pain after the ruptured ovarian cyst, but because the only way to diagnose it was surgery, he wasn't eager to force the issue since I was slowly but surely getting better. But now that we have ruled out and tried pretty much everything else, we're at that point near the end of the road where it's appropriate and necessary.

 I was not expecting it to happen so quickly, but when they called on Friday to get it scheduled, it ended up that Monday was the best option! Well, ok! I tend to stress and worry over stuff anyway so that probably was best. It was enough time for me to process and adjust to the idea of it without having too much time to stress. So yeah, I've pretty much decided that about a 48-72 hour window is what I need to adjust to something that's not a TOTAL shock.

 I had done my reading and research, was with my mom when she had laparoscopic surgery (although not for this), and I DO work in a hospital and have made enough visits to both pre-op and pacu that I feel like I'm reasonably familiar and comfortable with what happens. Heck, I've even been in the OR and seen things that most people outside healthcare don't get to see. Still, I was a little surprised (and not at all happy) when I was told "oh by the way, you're only allowed clear liquids the day before" Especially since I'd been cooking for three days for a little get-together that was going to be, you guessed it, the day before my surgery. So instead of white chicken chili, wine, spinach dip, and salsa I got to have broth, sprite, and gatorade. I have never wanted a Frito so badly in my life!

 The morning of surgery I was instructed to check in at the outpatient surgery center at 6:45. I was honestly surprised at how quickly everything went. They called me back to prep me at about 7:10 and I was rolling back to the OR at 7:35! I was the most nervous about the IV, and while she only had to stick me once, it was kind of nerve-wracking. She asked if I was ok if she didn't numb it first because it was such a tiny vein. She had to dig a little, but she got it and I've never been so relieved to be done with something. It was the longest three minutes of my life! I remember very little after they put "the good stuff" in my IV as they started to roll me out. I have some vague fuzzy memories of moving onto the table but that's about it. When I woke up in recovery, I wasn't quite aware of where I was I just had the feeling I was waking up and needed to go to the bathroom. So what do you do when you feel that every morning? You get up and go! So I started trying to get up and the nurse had to tell me to lay back down. Once I was awake though, I was pretty much ready to go. The first thing I asked for was my glasses because I couldn't see squat! I had to wait until they got me out of recovery and into a discharge room. I asked the nurse what time it was and she told me it was about 9. I was pretty antsy to get up, get something to drink, and get the heck out of there. She kept offering me pain medicine and I kept turning it down. At one point she flat out told me "you're making faces like you're in a lot of pain. I'd really like to give you something." I honestly told her that it was just my throat hurting and asked for something to drink. She got me a diet coke and it was the best thing ever!

They moved me to a "discharge room" and I immediately wanted to get up and go to the bathroom. I was told before surgery that my ticket out was going tinkle, so as soon as I did that I was told I could get dressed and we could go.  The discharge nurse told me she was impressed by how well I was able to walk around on my own and I even managed to get dressed without any help. By 10,  Jeff and I were halfway home home and swinging through the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru to get breakfast!

I'm not a great patient and I don't like being helpless, but all things considered my recovery was pretty easy. Jeff stayed with me and we spent the day in the den watching Harry Potter movies and enjoying the new recliners. He got me Chicken and Dumplings for an early dinner and I took a couple of pain pills but they never made me really sleepy. I wasn't ready to lay flat so I just spent that night in the recliner. The next day I got to finally take a shower and wash all the hospital crud off of me and with the exception of a little bit of soreness/stiffness particularly when I went from sitting to standing I felt pretty good. It was over a week before I was comfortable wearing anything except elastic waist pants but overall it was pretty easy. The most annoying part was having the little strings hanging out of my belly button! I don't like loose strings on my clothes or my stuff. I'm NOT a fan of having them hanging out of my body!

My lower two incisions stayed pretty sore for the whole two weeks between surgery and my post-op appointment. When I went back to have my stitches removed he told me the incision in my belly button was perfect but the lower two were "kind of angry looking" so he gave me some antibiotics, but said he thought they'd heal a lot better without the little "foreign bodies" (stitches) in there and sure enough the residual pain was gone within a day of having the stitches removed. He also talked to me about what he found during the surgery. He had talked to Jeff and given him some pictures on surgery day, but it was nice to hear it all myself. He did find some endometriosis, but it presented as a peritoneal window, which is basically a little hole in the lining around my pelvic organs. He said that, while it's not the most common way of finding endometriosis, it's not an uncommon thing, and they cleaned it all up and are hopeful that it will do the trick!

Now we do more waiting to see what happens!

How You Can Care For Me, Part 2

Remember how, way back when I went really public with all this infertility and adoption stuff I wrote a post about what I needed and how folks could best support me? Remember how I said that if I came up with anything else or if anything changed I'd share it? Well, it's time for some sharing. No, nothing has changed drastically in terms of "what's happening" but I think my attitude about it slowly has. I recognize that my needs are different and so I want to share a more current reflection of where I am.

Recently I saw an article about what you should or shouldn’t say to a person who is trying to get pregnant. It didn’t even specifically mention “infertility” but it was pretty clear that those with more extended “trying” periods were considered the experts in this field. I had a lot of issue with this article. For one thing, I’m not a fan of sweeping generalizations. In the case of this particular article (and several others I have seen) there are several key points that I disagree with strongly. I’m going to own all of this as my own thoughts/feelings and I make no generalizations about how this may or may not apply to others. So rather than critiquing the opinions of others, I’d rather just offer my perspective on how you can best care for and relate to me.

Be real with me. Life is hard. Not having kids is hard, but so is having kids. Not being pregnant is hard, but so is being pregnant. Being stuck in the house all day is hard, but so is going to work every day. While I appreciate being on the receiving end of care, and I crave it more than most people probably know, I also can’t live there. That’s just not who I am or how I’m wired, and I assume that if you know me well enough to care about how you relate to me, you know this about me already. If you need to complain about home or work or kids or anything, go for it. If I can’t deal with it at that point, I’ll be real with you, too, and tell you.

 Don’t exclude me. Like I said before, life is hard. It’s full of sad, difficult things. I probably see more than my share in my line of work. I soak up joy and happiness and celebration wherever I can. Children are living, breathing miracles of joy to me. If you’ve got something to celebrate, let me celebrate with you. I don’t have to be all up in your business, but you don’t have to walk on egg shells around me. I’m not saying you should go out of your way to include me in things you wouldn’t otherwise, but don’t feel that because it’s happy or baby/child related that it’s something to be avoided around me. This whole journey has been and continues to be an incredibly lonely one for me. Please don’t build any more walls to remind me of how different I am.

Give me permission to grieve. I will admit that there have been times when I prayed “God, if you’re not going to give me a baby, can I at least have a miscarriage?” Not because I think the loss of a child is something to be desired, but because that is a much more tangible loss that is more easily understood. There is a lot more sympathy and support for that kind of loss. I absolutely believe that all these things that exist should and they are very valuable. Pregnancy loss is a terrible thing. But it is something that can be grieved publicly. Trying and trying and there just being … nothing… is not something you can publicly grieve. How can you miss something you never had? It’s easier than you think. I often don’t feel that I have permission to grieve publicly, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not grieving. This is often where I feel the loneliest.

Let me be real with you. Ask what’s been going on in my life and in my head and in my heart and really listen to what I have to say. If you know me well enough to recognize when I’m feeding you a load of crap then be willing to call me on it and give me permission to share with you. Don’t try to force it out of me, but give me some safe space to talk about whatever it might be. No guilt or shame, no “should” or “ought”, no mocking or ridicule. It may take a while before I act on it, but simply the knowledge that the space is there and that it is occupied by someone who loves and cares about me is a tremendous gift.

Tell me your story. No, I may not relate to all of it. Heck, I may not relate to most of it. But if there is one thing I have learned through my life and my work it’s that, in pretty much every case, there is SOME point of connection between two souls. Remind me of some of these. Help me remember that there is a community who loves and supports me and there are people who understand. And don’t be afraid of happy endings. Those have always been my favorites!

 

Thank you for caring. Please don't stop. It makes a difference.

Walk 153

First of all, let me just say that I know I have been a serious blogging slacker lately. However, in my defense, I haven't really thought there was that much blog-worthy about my life lately. I am planning a few updates in the near future about adoption, Academy, and other important things, so stay tuned.

 Walk153 is a walk to raise both awareness and funds for orphan care and adoption assistance. The "153" is because the latest statistics indicate there are over 153 million orphans in the world. That figure is just staggering to me. Adoption can be a very daunting (and expensive) prospect and so any sort of assistance, either financial or emotional, is greatly appreciated. In addition to supporting general causes, Walk153 is also a way for individual families to raise money for their personal adoption journeys. It's a great resource to have! This year the Birmingham area walk will be on Sunday, November 3rd at Bucaneer Stadium on the campus of Hoover High School, starting at 1:53 pm.

 My friend Mollie told me about this last year when I first told her about our journey with infertility and plans to pursue adoption. Life and scheduling got in the way and I wasn't able to participate last year, but this year Mollie and I have a team. We are calling ourselves Team Chrysalis and would love to have any support anyone would like to give us. Because Jeff and I are not currently pursuing a "costly" adoption option we are not in need of financial assistance at this time and so we are not a family registered to receive designated assistance. However, there are plenty of families who are and also plenty of orphans who need some care and support until they find their forever family. Team Chrysalis is trying to raise $153, which doesn't seem like much, but every little bit helps. If you would like to donate or to come walk with us, you can register or donate through the website - www.walk153.com

 Of course one of the best ways you can support us is to continue to be in prayer for our team as we walk, for Jeff and I as we continue on this adoption journey, for other families who are also on this journey, and for all those sweet little ones who need to find their forever families!

The Next Step

I have been a blogging slacker lately, but it's been because there's been nothing to write about really. Remember way back when I first posted about our attempts at becoming parents when I mentioned that, if I still wasn't pregnant by the time I went back to the doctor that we would start pursuing adoption as well? Obviously that time has come and gone, and while I haven't really posted a ton about that we have been looking into what our options might be.

 Although we love the idea of having an infant and going through all of those "firsts" we also are realists about the fact that lots of people who want to adopt want to adopt infants and the waiting lists are pretty long. However, we also know that there are lots of children in the world, and in fact in our own country, who are not infants but are still very much in need of loving parents. After lots of thought, prayer, and discussion we both felt that we were being led towards adoption through the foster care system. Neither of us feel that we have the gifts needed to serve as foster parents, but we recognize the importance of this program and the need of these children whose parents have had their rights terminated to have a permanent home and family that they can count on forever.

Despite the fact that there are lots of children who are waiting, there is still a somewhat involved process for adopting. Although there are moments when I am frustrated with the idea of waiting and want to scream "these babies have been waiting long enough!" I know that every step of the process is important both for them and for us so I have to keep reminding myself of that.

We have completed two of the ten weeks of Group Preparation and Selection (GPS) classes. Although not easy, GPS has already been a good, helpful, informative resource. It has been the source of a lot of good conversations both in and out of class. There have been a wide range of emotions we have both experienced and it has seemed very overwhelming at times. Still, we know it is necessary. There is a lot of paperwork and I mean A LOT. The bulk of it has been completed, but there's still plenty to stay on top of. The people who are teaching our classes have been very great and supportive and I think that by the time it's over we will be close to everyone in the classes with us.

I will say that working together on our autobiographies has been a really great experience for us as a couple. Sharing these stories, some of which we've told each other before and others we are only now sharing, has been an incredibly meaningful and intimate experience. No matter what is the result of this experience, I am thankful for the gifts it has already given me.

There is plenty more still to be done and I'm sure there will be lots of waiting and hoping and praying. But for now, we are taking it one day, one week, one step, one class at a time. And with each "to do" that gets crossed off the list, each class that is completed, and each piece of paper that is handed in, I know we are one step closer to our "forever family."

Each Drop Makes a Difference

This is the lake at Camp Sumatanga. Sumatanga has a special place in my heart for a lot of different reasons and it truly is holy ground. Last year the dam broke and the lake was empty. Finally, thanks to the wonderful gift of rain, it is filling up again.

As I look at this picture and reflect on the beauty and the celebration in its grey raininess, I can't help but thing about what an appropriate metaphor for my life (especially my spiritual life) this lake has been and continues to be.

It never stopped being "the lake". Even when it was dry. Even when it was empty. Even when it was walked on and those that were daring enough to explore its raw exposure had to tread carefully. It was still always the lake because we all knew that dry and empty was not the way it was going to stay. The core of its being, its identity, never changed. It couldn't be used in the same ways, but it had a beauty and a power and a value that could only be appreciated in its emptiness. A lot of people worked very hard so that it could be filled once again. But even when all that work was done, it still takes time to be filled. But each little drop of rain makes a difference, because each drop combines with all those other drops to get it one step closer to being filled once again.

I was empty. I was dry. I was in need of fixing. And even when that was done, I had to wait for the nourishing rains. I have to trust that every drop is making a difference. To remember that the gray is beautiful and remember with gratitude all of those who have made a difference. To be thankful for all of those who ventured into uncharted territory with me. Who braved my raw exposure to be present with me in a new way. To get closer than I had ever allowed them to be before. Who continued to honor and recognize who and what I am even though my presentation changed.

Like the lake, I am constantly changing. I am natural. I respond to the things happening within me and around me. I won't stay at a static level. I will probably go down again even after I am "full" but that's ok. Every drop makes a difference.

The Initial Medical Update

I promised it, so here it is. I recognize that this may be too much information for some, and if that's true, that's totally fine. Just consider this your disclaimer. I promise to post about chocolate or sunshine or unicorns sometime soon.

So, the history: I know very little about my family history except that my mom had a hard time getting pregnant with us. She had one miscarriage, my twin was stillborn, and my brother was critically ill and they didn't think he was going to make it after he was born. Obviously he pulled through, but I know it weighed heavily on my parents, my mom especially who said the only thing she ever wanted to be in life was a mommy. I remember as a child asking her if she ever wanted more kids. Not in terms of "why don't I have a little sister" or anything like that, but just a curiosity question of what she wanted and why. She was very honest that, at one point she thought she did, but she had such a hard time and she thought that two was the perfect number because she only had two hands. Think that was a nice way of saying we were both a hand-full? Either way, knowing that is an important part of my story.

I started taking birth control while I was in college. Not because I was sexually active, but to regulate my periods and because I was having some issues we thought could be hormonal balance things like getting dizzy or passing out during my period. At one point I had one little cyst that apparently just went away on its own.

You may recall that I stopped taking birth control shortly after Jeff and I got married. At one point before we were trying (summer 2010) there was a period where I pretty much skipped a period and although the home pregnancy test was negative, we both kind of held our breaths until my period came. Not because we didn't want a child, but because I kept running through the "what ifs" in my mind. I realize now that I probably just didn't ovulate that month.

After that, we decided to keep an eye on things. I was relatively consistent in terms of cycles but didn't start officially charting things until about January of 2011. I didn't always run like clockwork, but was usually pretty consistent. I didn't go to the doctor at all between about January 2010 and October 2011, mostly because I didn't have insurance to pay for it! I knew starting a family was a priority so I didn't want to see just anybody, but wanted to begin establishing a relationship with a doctor who I wanted to care for me long-term. So at the point I saw him in October, I had been "officially trying" for 9-10 months. I appreciate that he took me seriously and went ahead and did some basic lab work to see if anything jumped out. He was very honest about what the diagnosis of infertility meant and that he hoped I'd show back up in his office in a couple of months pregnant. Unfortunately that didn't happen.

Instead, I headed off to summer camp. And while I was there, I started feeling some unusual cramping before the start of my period. Instead of in my uterus, which is what I was used to (and what you would intellectually expect) it was on my left side. I asked the camp nurse and when I showed him where it was hurting, he said it was an ovary or tube. At first it was just sort of twinges so I didn't think much about it. The second day I came into his office after lunch (as I generally did) but instead of sitting down to talk, I curled up in a ball and laid on the futon. Having known me for the better part of 15 years, he didn't ask how bad it hurt. Instead he took one look at me, got up and pulled out two aleve and told me to take them, go take a nap, and if I was still hurting in about 90 minutes to come find him. Thankfully the aleve and nap helped and at the end of the 90 minutes, I wasn't in pain anymore. Before bed I got two more aleve to take back to my room in case I needed them in the middle of the night, but I didn't. However, the next morning (about 10am) I was in severe pain, so I took my two aleve and soldiered through the day. By lunch around 12 noon, I was almost in tears I was still hurting so badly. He told me there really wasn't much else he could give me and I opted to go take a long nap where I was lucky enough to pass out for a while. When I woke up, I was still hurting, but not as badly and I went about my business. Thankfully this was the next to last day and there was enough going on to keep me somewhat distracted but not so busy I was miserable. Upon Nurse Buck's command, since I was still feeling some pain (although not nearly as much) after I returned home, I called my doctor's office the next week. Well, wouldn't you know it, he was on vacation, so I had to wait to get an appointment. When I finally was able to get in, the first thing they did was a transvaginal ultrasound, which to be perfectly honest wasn't the worst experience I've ever had! I get that it's not exactly fun, but it wasn't horrid either, but that is probably due in large part to the person who was doing it! The ultrasound revealed that everything was normal. The best guess of both nurse and doctor was that I'd had an ovarian cyst that ruptured, but my body had responded as it should and gotten rid of everything. There was no obvious reason for the lingering pain I felt, but it eventually went away completely. My next cycle was normal and there was no cause for alarm.

Not much else of consequence happened between then and my doctor's appointment in early November. At that appointment I was informed that I was in fact not pregnant (since I was late I was hoping) and my physical exam was normal. More bloodwork was ordered, and this showed that I hadn't ovulated the previous month, just as the doctor suspected and I probably wasn't ovulating regularly which is why things had been a bit off and slightly more unpredictable than in the past. I was told to get an ovulation predictor kit and use it. Then, when I got a positive test result, to #1 "do the baby dance" and #2 call the doctor so they can schedule more blood work to check hormone levels and see if that is where it's supposed to be. I can start using that kit next week and hopefully get some answers before the end of the month.

The doctor also told me to schedule an HSG or dye test to check my tubes, but that couldn't be scheduled until I got my period because it can only be done on certain cycle days. I was advised that I could schedule it right away or I could wait a few months and see what was going on with the ovulation thing. It's kind of a chicken and egg problem - if it's the ovulation, then the HSG won't show anything or be helpful until we get that fixed, but if I have a blocked tube I can ovulate all day long and it's never going to get me anywhere! I'm still not entirely sure what I want to do. At least some of the decision-making this cycle was handled by mother nature. The days of my cycle when they could do the test were Thanksgiving and the day after so I will have to wait at least another month. I should get my hormone results before I could schedule for next month, so that information should help me decide whether or not sooner is better than later.

So yeah, that's the current status of my reproductive system. You're welcome!

How You Can Best Care For Me

*Disclaimer - This post is not directed at anyone or in response to anything that has happened either in the real world or in blogger land. This is all about me. In an effort to be more authentic to myself, to care for my own soul, and to "help you help me" I'm throwing this all out there. Please do not take this as a sweeping prescription for all people you think have something in common with me. If you see something you believe will benefit someone else somewhere else, then by all means use it. I'm all for spreading love! But note that these are specific things I know that I need/want right now and the only way to even begin to get those needs met is to put them out there, so that is what I am doing. Thank you and have a nice day!

1. Support comes in lots of forms, not just words. - Just journeying with me, reading this stuff makes a world of difference to me. Even if you don't leave me a comment and I don't know exactly who you are, just knowing that there are people who are concerned or curious enough to join me on this journey is helpful in reminding me that I'm not alone. If you do believe that words are the best way that you can show me support, please remember that often times, less is more.

2. Please let me control the flow of information. - I'm moderating my comments so that if there is something that I don't think is particularly helpful to others who might read this or contains information I'm not ready to share, I'm not going to publish it. If I don't answer a question or respond to something specific, know that I'm doing what is best for me at whatever point on this journey you may find me. It's not always a straight line or a steady progression. Also remember there are probably things going on you don't know about. If you have something long or complicated to discuss, please feel free to e-mail me. If you ask a question I want to answer but not here, I will e-mail you a response.

3. No pity-parties please - Not for me or yourself or anyone else. Yes, there will be moments when I feel like I'm up to my armpits in a pile of poo, but I am really striving to keep the perspective that the most beautiful gardens require the incorporation of some manure to help them grow. I have a nice pile of my own, I don't need anyone else's and when I do fall face first into it, I don't need you rolling in it with me because that'll just mean it takes longer to clean up!

4. There are a few phrases that are banned here, not just from readers but also from me. If you see them, please draw my attention to it, but please try to do so kindly!

•  "I know exactly how you feel" - this is not supportive, this is disrespectful. It tells me you don't care about knowing my journey because you assume it is the same as yours and you are focused on you and not me. If that is where you are right now then so be it, but don't put that on me.
• "Should/Ought to/Supposed to/Normal" - these are phrases I'm actively working to remove from my vocabulary and hearing them from others is not going to help that process. If I use them in a declarative statement (particularly if it involves the phrase "I know") please call me on it! 
• "If you just..." - I'm going to leave the prescribing to my doctor. That's why I'm paying him!

5. Please ask questions!  - I can't promise I will know the answers about technical stuff because I'm learning as I go and I can't promise I will always be willing/able to answer some of the more personal stuff (at least when it is first posed) but I can promise that I will do my best. And if I can't answer your question, I will do my best to refer you to someone who can!

6. Please please PLEASE remember that none of this is universal truth or statements about anyone but me and it is not written for anyone but me. I did not create this blog to be about my fertility journey. I don't want it to turn into that. This is just a real peek into my life and my family and a particular journey we are on at this point. There is a dear woman in my support group whom I respect and admire more than I can say who told me that she probably would have forgotten some of the worst/hardest parts of her own journey were it not for having blogged about it as it was happening. I have found this to be true of other parts of my own life as I have gone back and read old journals from various points in my life. This is simply the most convenient way for me to do this and because I appreciate how others have been willing to share their journeys I am willing to do the same. If it helps someone else that is great, but it's not the point. 

Thank you for caring enough about me to also care about how you relate to me right now!

It's Official

I know I have written before about our unsuccessful attempts at growing our family but at that point 7 months ago, we were still very much at an in-between place. Since then some things have happened, but none of them have resulted in pregnancy. I'll do a more detailed "medical" update soon, but today I just want to talk about the emotions that have gone along with my infertility becoming "official."

In the 12-24 hours following my most recent doctor's visit, I went through all four of the major emotions several times - mad, sad, glad, and scared - without much rhyme or reason! The roller coaster ride through my mind was a bit crazy and trying to get back on that ride as I am writing this is making me a little nauseous just thinking about it, so consider yourself warned!

MAD - I was flat out angry at myself for being broken, at my body for not working the way I expected it to work, at my family because there is probably a genetic component to this, at my husband for choosing me, at myself again for being a bad wife, at God for this command to "be fruitful and multiply" and then for giving me a body that can't do it, and on and on. Still, this was probably the place where I spent the least amount of time!

SAD - I was terribly sad about the absence of concrete answers in that moment. I was sad about the hopes and dreams and plans I had stored in the back of my mind. I also found myself grieving the deaths of my parents in a new and powerful way because of their absence in all this and my inability to ask them about their struggles. There wasn't a lot of variance here in the topics, but there was definitely some dynamic change in how strongly I felt this emotion. I definitely spent time everywhere between "aw, shucks" to tears running down my face!

GLAD - I actually spent a great deal of time here, surprisingly enough. Because I finally had a name and plan for all this! I had professionals in my corner and I was reminded again about how good I feel about those I have chosen to journey with me along the way. I was glad to have an excuse to reach out to a new community in which I have found myself, and I was glad that I would soon have even more answers and even more concrete plans, even if they were a bit intimidating.

SCARED - I was probably most scared of the semi-unknown that was (and is) to come. I was scared of what the results of various tests would be. I was scared of the other tests and procedures that I knew were going to come. I was scared of possible treatments and side effects. I was scared of going through all of this and not having it work.

After I got the results of my tests back and it was confirmed that I'm "the problem" it was very hard. Even though I had a plan of action, the fact that it involved waiting an unknown period of time before I could even START doing anything was very frustrating and made me feel even more helpless. I have gotten a lot of great support from folks, no matter how much or how little I have shared, which has been a huge blessing.

I continue to experience all of these things to varying degrees. The fact that it's holiday time is also making it harder. The past couple of years, the thing that has really helped me is thinking "next year will be different because there will be three!" but this year I am simply lacking some of that hope. Last year, as a part of an ornament exchange, my "secret santa" who knew about my (then covert) attempts at growing our family got me a special heart ornament that says "Good Luck 2012" in both English and German, with the hope and prayer that 2012 would be our year to at least get pregnant. I'm really doubting that now. When we were decorating our tree (yes we've already done that) I hung it up, but it was definitely hard to do. Maybe I'll be surprised in the next month and next year we will have an extra stocking to hang by the chimney with care. But make no mistake about it, this journey is hard.

I don't know when we will have to take our next step, or really even what that step will be, but it is good to know I'm not alone in it.