So I'm starting a blog...

I wonder how many other people start off their first post like this. A little nervous, not entirely sure what to do, not sure if I have anything of consequence to say or add to the conversation. A million thoughts telling me why not to: No one's going to read this. Well except maybe my husband because I'll stand over his shoulder and make him...What the heck do I know about blogging? Or adoption? Or anything!?...I am void of all thought and creativity!

But in spite of all that, something else tells me to shut up and just start writing already. Because even if only my husband reads it, there is something about telling your story that is therapeutic and, heck, if it encourages one person, even if it's just me, or my husband, I'll count it a success!

So here's the story, so far...

About five years ago I got a fever. You know the one. Baby fever. Maybe you've heard of it or experienced it yourself. Well, mine was, like most, intense and all consuming. An every-waking-moment longing. But my body super sucked at the time and decided it wasn't into the whole conception mumbo jumbo and opted out of ovulating all together. So the doctor prescribed some medicine - glucophage/metformin - to help get things going. It was supposed to help my body regulate and make me like every other girl with a monthly cycle. Then we could give it the good ol' try on our own. But the problem was two fold: (1) I SUCK at taking pills. And you have to take these every day. You'd think my intense fever for child would have overridden my lame inability to establish a routine, for heaven's sake. But alas, no. And (2) you have to take the pills EVERY DAY! It was like a constant reminder of "I'm not pregnant," "My body is broken," "I'm not pregnant." So whenever I did consistently remember to take the pill I was pelted with discouragement, and then would stop/avoid taking them. Good plan, Kim. Can you say self-fulfilling prophecy? I can!

So Glucophage is like baby step 1, no make that baby step 0.5 on the infertility treatment journey and I already couldn't handle it. So needless to say, I gave up. I tried to restart it several times and at one point was even able to up the dose, but that wrecked my guts pretty bad so I quit again.
I was too afraid to even try. Too afraid to pursue even the simplest treatment. Because all I could envision was a future where treatment failed and we had to move up to the next option, and that one failed and before I would know it, we'd be seven years down the road and still no baby. And I didn't want to go through that. Like my reproductive system, I wanted to opt-out. Before even really stepping onto the infertility treatment path, I wanted to go another route.

So, I began researching adoption. And became ignited. Adoption would be my solution, my savior, my guarantee to be a mommy. Sure maybe it'll take a while, maybe it'll be expensive, but, unlike fertility treatments, at least I would know that I would end up with a baby. Mama loves a sure thing!

And the faces! All the cute little baby faces! Chubby, smiling. Black babies, white babies, Chinese babies, Indian babies. Babies!!! I knew I could love any child. I wanted to love them. They needed a mommy and I desperately wanted to be that for any one of them.

So I gathered my intel, formulated a plan and prepared to make the big pitch to my husband. He knew I had been researching adoption obviously, but this was the big moment when he would sign off on my perfect plan and we'd really begin. Except that he didn't.

He listened, he asked questions, but when all was said and done he looked at me and said, "But we haven't really tried to get pregnant."

(So what?! This was better than pregnancy, this was beautiful and divine! And this is way less scary for me!)

"This isn't just about you. It's about our whole family. And we owe it ourselves to try, really try, and not just give up because we're scared. You can't make a choice like this just because you're afraid of trying."

(Uggghhhh. He was right. Fear was my first motivating factor. But there really was love too. I really could feel this pull to adoption. There was a passion, a fire in my heart that had never been there before. I couldn't just give that up.)

"I'm not saying we can't adopt. I'm just saying that you have to try first. Like actually try. I don't care what you do, but do something. Decide what how far you're willing to go medically, how long you're willing to try. And do that."

(Sigh...I begrudgingly concur.)

So we made an agreement. I would go back the doctor and we would try to get pregnant for six months. If I wasn't pregnant by then, he fully endorsed us pursuing adoption. But I had one condition: even if we did get pregnant and had a biological child, that we would still revisit adoption in the future, because it's amazing and infertility isn't the only reason for doing it. Agreed.

So in January 2009, I went to the doctor and got a prescription for Clomid (the real baby step 1 in infertility treatment). I had to take 10 days of progesterone first to get things going and then it would be an easy one-pill-a-day-for-five-days and that's it. Yes! I can do this! And the most amazing part is it actually worked. Our first round in. Amazing.

And on 12/10/2009 we welcomed our sweet baby girl, Anabelle Amellia, into the world and into our family. I don't think I've ever felt more contented than when I was sitting in my hospital bed, still numb from my Cesarean, getting to hold my daughter for the first time.  Heart fulfilled. Fever abated.

I am so thankful I had "trouble" getting pregnant. Because my heart was transformed. A new longing was created, for another child that I don't yet know, that is not yet born, that, even though I won't carry them within my womb, I already love and carry in my heart. And I can't wait to hold you someday!

So, I'm starting a blog to tell our family's story and our journey of adoption. The journey continues...