Pushing on Doors

I try hard to keep my blog real. I want to share goodness and light and truth but I want to share my struggles--so that if anyone else feels the way I have felt (and I KNOW they have!), then maybe we can connect or maybe she can find a way to make it through another day with a little hope in her heart. Or maybe you can share with me what has helped you through what you are dealing with and it can help me.

We all have heartaches and unfulfilled wishes and struggles. And though, sometimes I wish I didn't have mine....I probably wouldn't trade mine for yours. Because I know mine is tailored to me and yours to you.

Anyway, I wanted to share a recent heartache I experienced and then share the beautiful blessing I received after the deep pit I felt myself sinking into that lifted me up and gave me hope.

In order to tell you about this day I had last week, I have to back up....Ten years. (I know...I'll try not to be long winded but that's probs not possible with this one....sorry!)

Please know, what I share here are actually several very special and even sacred experiences but I've been feeling a push to share them so....here I am being brave.

**********************

Texas, 2005:

I was Senior in HS and dating Bryce, who had graduated in 2004. I flew from where I lived in Flagstaff, AZ to visit him where he lived with his family just North of Dallas, TX.

While there, he received his mission call. It was an awesome awesome day. He was called to:

Antananarivo, Madagascar

FF (fast forward): he served his mission there for two years (2005-2007). He fell in love with the people there (I'm sure like no other missionary ever does, right? ;) 

FF: one year, to 2008. Utah. I married my Malagasy-speaking HS sweetheart and love of my life.

Over the course of the next five years, trying to conceive, we talked on and off about adoption. We planned to adopt- eventually- but weren't in the position financially or emotionally to do so yet. 

FF: to 2013, we had moved to Texas and were in the thick of IVF treatments. 

I was plunging needles into my stomach and butt every day and popping pills and trying not to be an emotional monster. After our second round (first round, I miscarried and the second round was a failed attempt). Calling it a "failed attempt" sounds like a quick, no big deal kind of thing....let me tell you: it wasn't that. 

I was as humbled and meek and tender-hearted as you can be. I felt broken and the Lord was my constant companion as I relied on him daily, hourly and sometimes minute by minute to hold onto my hope and my faith.

As I drove to work one morning, I was pondering and silently praying, again.

Adoption popped into my head. This wasn't out of the norm and I listened and waited and contemplated how and if we could make it work yet. But as I pondered, driving on Long Prairie Rd, my mind and heart caught onto the same simple thought:

I have babies in Madagascar. 

It was that simple. But I knew it wasn't my own idea. It was His.

(This is a painting Bryce bought on his mission in 2006 of two Malagasy orphans)

I immediately called my husband and told him my thought and He received the same feeling and knowledge that it was right. What I didn't know in that moment was that God was just preparing us....very far in advance.

Aside from the long list of qualifications, it turned out that Bryce was still three years shy of being old enough to adopt from Madagascar. But we came to understand that this was ok and would give us time to do our third round of IVF and then get prepared financially for the $30k price tag of a Malagasy adoption. 

Over the next two years we experienced another round of IVF, another heart-wrenching miscarriage, months of heart-healing and months of rebuilding my hope & faith that had worn so thin in the face of such heartache.

FF again: This brings us to 2015.

We got certified to adopt domestically to adopt here in the states because we felt it was right and good and because I often dream of a tiny baby curled onto my chest and my mother-heart wants to burst with the love I feel for that one-day baby of mine. 

So a week and a half ago, we hit the 12th birth mother that didn't work out for this reason or other. (I won't even get into all of that...) But it brought me back to emailing the ONE agency in the entire USA that does adoptions from Madagascar. I've talked to them many times in the past and, again, had just been waiting for Bryce to be old enough. But he's turning 30 in March so I figured we could get started with other paperwork between now and then.....

I've learned a lot in the last few months of working with birth mothers and agencies and attorneys and social workers. So I asked this Malagasy adoption agency a question I hadn't ever asked before:

"You're a Christian agency; do you have a Statement of Faith that you require adoptive parents to sign?"

I knew they were a Christian agency. Perfect! We are Christian! We believe in Jesus Christ. We believe that he came to earth and lived and died for our sins and heartaches and disappointments and pains. We love him and strive to be like him. Our church is named after Him. We believe in the Bible and along with it, the Book of Mormon, which is another Testament of Jesus Christ.

But they sent me the Statement of Faith.  Because we believe in more than just the Bible, we cannot sign that form. If I wanted to sign it (if we want to adopt from Mada) we would have to claim to believe that no one on earth has had revelation from God since the Bible.

We cannot sign it. I cannot sign that form.

I explained that we couldn't sign it and they've already told me directly that their policy is that adoptive parents MUST sign it in order to partner with their agency.

But I have babies over there, Lord....

The day I found out that we couldn't use the one and only agency that Madagascar will deal with...the anguish of that day was on the same level with  my miscarriages.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't stop crying.
I prayed...loudly...to the Lord in my car as I drove.

I knew I needed someone to talk me through it so I called my Dad but he was at work and couldn't answer. So I called my sister, Jen.

As we talked and I sobbed, I had to pull off the highway and put my head my knees to keep from passing out. I was lightheaded and my arms were tingling (from lack of oxygen apparently). I was talking to her on the phone when my dad started calling me back, so she told me to talk to him.

I switched over and it took three tries to be understandable to him through my sobbing.

My babies....He told me my babies were over there, Dad. And now he's taking that away? Where is HE in this? Where is HE? I don't understand. 

Dad was able to calm me down eventually. He always knows what to say...even when he tells me he doesn't know what to say....he still does.  After a bit, I determined that what I needed was a Priesthood blessing. I needed God's love and His reassurance over me. But Bryce was flying and unreachable, I don't know who my home teachers are and my father was states away.

So I called my old Bishop who lives close by and knows a lot about everything we've dealt with over the years. He came right over and Bryce actually got here at the same time. (Dad told me to imagine his hands on my head during the blessing):

I was reassured of God's love for me, of His awareness of my situation and what had happened, and that moving forward I would have angels round about me and his Spirit on my right and on my left.
Then he told me that the way was already being prepared for me to become a mother. That His plan was already set in motion and that the time is not far distant.

......I don't know why we would be told to adopt from Mada and then not allowed to do so. I don't know what His plan is for us. But I know that the right door will be opened one day for us to be able to adopt those babes. Maybe next year or in ten years. I've sent an email to the agency explaining more of our beliefs and asking if there are any other possible options. So we'll see if and what they reply with.   But in the meantime, we'll keep pushing on doors until one opens and we'll keep praying for all the little ones meant for our home -- wherever they live -- here in the U.S., Madagascar or anywhere else.

We ask in our prayers for their safety, for their health and we ask for them to be loved until we can love them ourselves. 

We may not know what mountain height He will have us climb and we may not know the way through the stormy sea.

But He does. 

Remembering Our Part

A few months ago I wrote Remembering.  What I had intended to write morphed into what I needed to write that day. But I've still wanted to go back and try it again ever since.

So.... take two:

As I mentioned in Remembering, the word Remember appears all over in the Book of Mormon. So much so that it really hit me during my 65 day reading challenge.

The more I pondered on it and its different significances, the more I felt the word ingrained on my heart. One significance which I already wrote about was God's Remembering Hannah (and each of us) and his promise to her to make her a mother. He remembered her. (as I know He will Remember me)

Another meaning that has grown in me is that Remembering is not a one-way street. We must Remember as well. There are many things we're asked to remember.

First and foremost, we're asked to Remember Him. Christ came to earth for us. He came and taught and loved and lived for us. Everything He did, He did as an example for us. He taught us how to find peace and happiness and he did it all to glorify His Father. Our Heavenly Father.

Then, if His teachings weren't enough, Jesus Christ performed the most unimaginable pain and anguish---physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Then gave His life on the cross so that He could rise again and make possible the resurrection to life eternal-- for each of us.

So God has promised He will Remember us (and He has proven that time and time again -- most especially through the Atonement).  And we are asked to Remember Jesus Christ.  Then, in connection to remembering Jesus Christ, we are asked to remember his teachings and commandments. We are asked to remember to do those things.

To do.

Remembering is not stagnant. It's not an individual occurrence. It's a life-long process of action and improvement.

Which brings me to a few things I've learned. (Do you remember how oh-so-human I am?) These things are what I've learned that I need to do. Everyone is different (which, by the way, may be one of the many reasons Christ taught in parables. While the principle we each learn is the same, we still may each glean that lesson in a different way or need to apply it a little differently depending on our life experiences).

Your brain can really only think about one thing at once. Which is why we don't go stir-crazy in our environments- like a student:   in a room with the florescent lights buzzing, pencils scratching, sniffing, the texture of your clothes, the hum of computers, the temperature, the whispering behind you, the tapping of a pencil next to you and then your own thoughts as you try to take a test.  Our brains- our bodies are designed to be able to block out unnecessary stimuli to help us focus on one thing.

While this is completely necessary to keep us sane (thank goodness for it...), it also makes us human and subject to forgetting.

We are told in the scriptures to pray continually. We're supposed to be faithful. We're supposed to think of the Savior. We're supposed to think of our family and our neighbors and pray for our enemies and do our visiting teaching and take care of our families and keep a house of order and attend church and meetings and read our scriptures and say our prayers....but pray continually.

It's a lot to remember. It's a lot to do. And it's hard for us to do it all- to remember it all.

So we each need to find ways or tricks to handle all of the important stuff so we don't miss out on what the Lord is trying to teach us.

Go back with me to 2012. Bryce and I had moved to Texas the year before and we were finally in a position to pursue, again, some fertility treatments. But I didn't know what doctor to go to or what route of treatment to even pursue. I was working full time and trying to remember all of those things I mentioned above....and failing at many of them but I was trying. During that time I had several notable spiritual, but seemingly every-day, experiences that lead me to the right doctor at the right time and got us started on our journey that we hoped would lead to parenthood. (by the way, I am absolutely sure that it was God who arranged the journey for us and though doing fertility treatments did not result in bringing a baby into our home, it was all necessary for our growth and I wouldn't change any of it).

I was keeping those experiences in my heart during our diagnosis and treatments. Then, I heard or recalled hearing, somewhere, that keeping a pen and paper on your nightstand so you can write down impressions, dreams or thoughts immediately when they happen can increase your spiritual sensitivity.

I had a running notebook for taking notes in church but didn't actually journal much in the way of every day experiences.  But after hearing that bit of advice, I placed that journal by my bed at night and in my purse during the day. Every chance I got, I was going back and recounting the experiences that I didn't want to forget. Because even by then I was forgetting small details.

As I continued to write and recount, I realized it was making me more spiritually sensitive, more thankful and more aware of the Lord in my life.

I was Remembering.

I forget so so easily. Ask me what I did last weekend. I probably won't remember or it will take me ten minutes to remember. So writing down the ways God has blessed me and writing down the miracles I'm seeing and the growth experiences I'm encountering is me showing the Lord that they matter to me. It's showing the Lord I want to Remember. That I want this life and these experiences to be written on my heart. I want to Remember.

Even most of my worst memories that some would think I wouldn't want to remember....I want to! I don't ever want to forget day I started losing our baby we had fought for for five years or the day it was over. Or the day I was diagnosed and told how hard conceiving and remaining pregnant would be for me. Or the day I miscarried again only to know that that was likely my last chance and I would need to come to terms with that. Or the days of pain with OHSS, walking the dark hall of my little house at 3am saying over and over "I'm calm and I'm ok. It's ok. I'm ok".

I don't want to forget those experiences. I want to remember them as much as I want to remember the days of miracles and blessings because the hard days are truly the days we're closest to our Heavenly Father. They're the days that are refining and purifying and that will make me into the woman He wants me to be.

I want to Remember.

Waiting with Gratitude

The level of gratitude with which I endure the waiting over years is a roller coaster. At times I'm doing awesome and feel really grateful for everything I already have--I'm on a high and going higher and feeling closer to Christ. Other times, I'm facing the ground, falling head first, as I forget everything I've been blessed with and focus only on what I'm lacking...on what I continue, year after year, to wait for.

This was the case with fertility treatments and the adoption process is no different. Highs and lows.

We really got going with the adoption process three months ago and our profile went live one month ago. I was on a high doing all the paperwork and getting things done. And then our home study went really well but I got caught up in the frustration of having to 'prove' myself as a competent person to be able to take care of children.....when, in reality, if I was fertile, no one would ever question my ability to take care of my biological children. I disregarded the fact that we had accomplished so much and that we were approved and we were GOOD!!! Instead, I let myself focus on the unfairness of it all. Bryce always reminds me life was never meant to be fair.

I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and started feeling better when I looked for the blessings I'd already received. We got our profile done and that was another high. :)

Since then we've been contacted by several birth mothers. It's been an eye-opening, interesting and sometimes difficult experience. But overall, just really cool. I've loved talking with these women that have such a huge decision to make and are trying so hard to do the right thing. They've each taught me a lot already.

Each time we're contacted is an exciting time. We went into adoption fully aware that before we have the blessing and opportunity to bring our little one home, we would be contacted and not chosen and that we would also be contacted by fake/scam birth moms. It happens. We accepted that as likelihood before we started. Which is good because we've already experienced both already. And that's ok! 

I just keep remembering....or reminding myself that each one that doesn't work out, doesn't work out because it's not the right baby for us. So how could I want it any other way?

But remembering that doesn't always make the waiting any easier.

So driving to work today I made a commitment to myself to focus more intently on what I'm grateful for now. On what God has provided. What God has orchestrated. What God does for me every day. How much God loves and watches over us....over me.

So here I go, I'm back to facing heaven in my personal roller coaster.

Lindsay Ross Blog Interview

Recently my sister's good friend Lindsay Ross contacted me. She has an amazing uplifting blog! She has a section of it devoted to Real Life Sories about women she knows.

My sister Jen had suggested  to her to interview me because of our infertility journey. (holy moly...I didn't feel like I belonged on there with all the other amazing women she's interviewed!) So when Lindsay asked me I was shocked but agreed to do it because the more women willing to be open about their infertility journey the better--it always needs another voice.

So I did the interview and it went live last month. I posted about it on FB but never posted a link from here! So I still feel weird about sharing it but it was an amazing opportunity and I'm really grateful that she asked me to do it. So go check it out---and more importantly, go read all the other Real Life Stories!!

{Goals During Hardship}

What I have recorded below are word-for-word goals I wrote down in a notebook that I pulled out this weekend. I wrote them a week after my infertility diagnosis that confirmed that we would likely never become pregnant without medical help. I had just found out that I was missing half of my uterus and I was feeling emptier than I had in a long time. I knew I had a long road ahead of me and I didn't want to lose myself by being buried by it all. I wanted desperately for the Lord to make of me what he knew I could be. 

GOALS:

To come out on the other end being able to look back and feel proud and happy with how I handled this trial. 

To always remember that it is these moments and these experiences that will make the blessings all the greater. 

To be grateful to the Lord and remember to look actively for the miracles and blessings from Him.

To have my testimony strengthened by these experiences; not weakened.

To never allow fear to guide my actions. To remember to acknowledge the fear and respect that it is there but not to allow it to be a dominant guide. 

To take control of our situation and never feel controlled by it.

To respect my feelings and allow myself to feel what I feel. 

To remember and know that these things are because they were meant to be and it is how the Lord intended.

To Trust God and Go and Do.

To always remember that it's a beautiful heartache to have and it's a beautiful dream.

What I didn't know at the time, was that writing these down on paper, even just in an old spiral notebook that got put in my hope chest, wrote them on my heart. And the spiritual truths behind them have gotten me though the hardest of days. 


Taking the time and effort to write down spiritual experiences and goals shows the Lord that He is important to you, and doing so can bless you your whole life. 

{Limited, but yet...}

It was a day I had anticipated and dreaded for years. We were so close to figuring this out. And we were so close to knowing more than I wanted to know. And once we knew....we would have to decide what to do about it.

Bryce couldn't come in with me. But I knew he would be there after the test was over.
Halfway through I could tell that my doctor had been right. This was it. This was the test that would explain the years of waiting, frustration and tears. The one my other doctors had waved off as unnecessary.

My hair scrunched behind my head as I craned my neck back and caught a glimpse of the screen behind me on the wall. The dye revealing my womb on the screen squiggled up and to the right .... and never to the left. More dye -- more pain -- and still nothing more. It should have been a mirror image, but the left side never showed itself. Was one of my tubes just blocked?  I let my head drop back down and I flexed my toes against the cramping, wishing I had Bryce's hand to hold and his ever-smiling eyes there to reassure my fears.  Dr. N. and Tiecha talked me through the test but carefully avoided telling me the full truth for the moment. It could wait.

We finished the test and I was left alone to change again and get dressed. The cramping in my stomach reminding me that we had a whole lot to discuss once I opened that door. My hands and legs shook--both from pain and from fear.

Will she tell me I'll never bear a child? Will she tell me my womb--that, in the past 4 years, should have housed and born at least two chubby-cheeked babes by now--will actually remain empty....barren, the rest of my life?  I may not hold a medical degree, but I knew those pictures of my insides were incomplete.

This wasn't right.

Half dressed, I leaned into the table white-knuckled, still shaking, choking down the lump in my throat and failing to prevent the tears that seemed set on escaping in waves. 

Was this really my life? How did I get here? 

My heart hurt and I wanted to curse my flat stomach. I took several more deep shuttering breaths and opened that door.

Bless my husband and his smiling eyes. That's what I love most about him. His smile always reaches his eyes. Especially when he knows I'm lacking.

Dr. N. was printing from her computer at the desk in her office as I sat down close to Bryce at the table and he grabbed my hand in a fierce grip. He was all support and love and assurance. I locked eyes with his and just shook my head, wanting him to be prepared that this wasn't routine. He just squeezed my hand harder and pulled my chair closer.

After that was a blur. She went over what we already knew--my labs and the PCOS and all. Bryce's tests were good, something to be grateful for. But then she refocused on me.....

Thankfully she's an amazing doctor and she taught us as she talked us through the information, the odds and the realities.  But it was a. lot. of. information.  

Unicornuate Uterus. Excuse me?  Missing half of your uterus. Half size, half volume.  No surgical cure. Both ovaries are present but need MRI to check for missing kidney. Seriously?  One fallopian tube. But I’m 25….I’ve been this way all my life?

There was that moment when we asked if pregnancy was even possible.

Yes.... sigh of relief....but most likely never without medical help.   At least it's possible. There's hope.
Possible, but difficult.  High-risk. Done, we've got this.  Won't go full term. C-section. Breach. Multiples would be too dangerous.  I can never have twins.  Selective reduction. What?? 

Limits. Limited.  I am limited.  I felt so limited.

But 

I also felt hope. God always has a plan. This wasn't something we had brought upon ourselves. It wasn't a mistake. He allowed it and would see us through it. Plus, we had be lead to an amazing doctor, and she was going to walk us through all of it and fight for us.

And fight she did. We'll forever be grateful for a doctor who fought to find the problem and then who fought to help us with our dreams. 

She never told us never or impossible. But over time and after our miscarriages, I've recalled the decisions we had made over and over through the years, including one I made that fateful day.

Just before I opened that door I realized something. If I couldn't bare children....if she told me there was just no way, I would accept it and we would be happy anyway.  We would adopt and we would have an amazing life loving them and I wouldn't look back.  So when I opened that door, I opened it knowing that even the worst diagnosis would lead me to our babies and to the life God had in store for me.