Since becoming pregnant I have had an internal struggle. I wanted to enjoy every moment of my long-awaited pregnancy, but I also did not want to ever forget everything I had been through to get there. Most importantly I wanted to be sensitive to all those who have struggled with infertility and who those are still in the trenches.

I have dealt with my fair share of unsurprising comments since revealing our news:

“That’s what happens when you adopt.”
“I knew it would happen eventually.”
“I know so many people who got pregnant after adopting.” (and they delve into names of people they know)

I understand that most people don’t get it. These comments are untrue and quite insensitive. But people want to focus on the good news, not the bad. They don’t want to rehash all that AJ and I went through and the days when we were telling people we didn’t know if we would ever have kids.
These comments dismiss infertility and also suggest that adoption is a means to an end.

But, don’t worry friends. When I hear these types of things, I make sure the commenter gets a dose of the difficult and sad truth about infertility.

Pregnancy does not happen for everyone- whether they adopt or not. The birth of a baby does not happen for everyone- despite getting pregnant multiple times. I make sure they hear from me that there are thousands and thousands of people who pregnancy will never happen for.

It doesn’t always end up this way.

And every time I utter the words, my heart falls in my stomach because I feel the pain of infertility. I will never stop feeling the pain completely if not for myself but for everyone who has to go through it.

On the flip side, I have found one particular question from strangers quite difficult to answer.

There are several questions every pregnant woman hears repeatedly-

How are you feeling?
When is your due date?
Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?

Is this your first?

I know what people mean. Do you have any other children? Are you a first-time mom?
But this is such a loaded question for me. Sometimes I pity the person that asks it- an innocent question posed to a stranger or acquaintance just to make conversation.  Uh, do you have a few hours?

I have found myself answering this question differently to different people, however.

“Is this your first?”

“No, my third.”

Their reactions have prompted further conversation in some cases.

“Oh, so you’ve been down this road before! You’re an expert on pregnancy.”

(thinking to myself)  Well, no this is my first…

See? Confusing.

In some cases, I have proceeded to explain that I have two adopted boys and this pregnancy was not expected to happen. I am a mother but yes, this is my first pregnancy.

Several people have shown emotion when hearing my explanation- tears in their eyes. This has been particularly touching since they were complete strangers or casual acquaintances. It made me feel like they understood how special this baby is. These are the people who failed to come up with an insensitive comment. Thanks goodness for them!

But I have also had to put up with every one’s expertise on making babies and how “that’s usually the way.” 

Once I started showing and it was obvious to the average person that I was expecting, it was nice to have the anonymity of being any old regular pregnant lady. But truthfully it has been difficult for me to sink into that role. When I am in public or I do get a casual question from someone, most of the time I slip by as though this baby happened the way I thought it would when I was 26 – easily. But I am different and I always will be. I have a life experience that has changed me and changed the way I look at pregnancy and parenting.

And even now when I look at myself, I am amazed. For everyone who has supported my husband and I, thank you. For everyone who has pulled for us during this close to 9 year saga, we are so grateful. And to everyone who has read my story and who visits this blog, I hope that you have found peace in your journey or will find peace with your path to parenthood.

It is the time of year to promote the Parenthood for Me Annual Gala. This is our biggest fundraiser of the year, and all of the net proceeds go toward funding our grants. The success of this event helps to determine the number of grants and the amount we can award to each recipient.

I am very excited to announce the recipient of our Commitment to Excellence Award for 2013.
The CEA is awarded to an individual who is dedicated to supporting the Adoption, Loss & Infertility community.

PFM is awarding this year’s award to Lori Holden – adoptive mother, author and educator on open adoption. We are also proud to have her as our Keynote Speaker. Open adoption is undoubtedly one of the most misunderstood and difficult parts of adoption for the general public to understand. Her work is extremely important and highly regarded in the adoption community.

Lori writes regularly at LavenderLuz.com about parenting and living mindfully. Her book, The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption: Helping Your Child Grow Up Whole, is available for pre-order on Amazon. She has written for Adoptive Families magazine, Parenting magazine and for BlogHer and MileHighMamas.com, a Denver Post site. On Twitter she’s @LavLuzand you can also find her on Facebook. She practices her Both/And technique with dark chocolate and red wine (though not at the same time).

We invite you to attend the gala and hear Lori share her extensive knowledge and experience with open adoption. Here are some highlights of the helpful information that Lori will share in her keynote address at the gala.

What is the biggest concern adopting parents have about open adoption?
While researching and writing my book, The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption, I heard from people from all corners of adoption (adoptive parents, first parents, adult adoptees). The concern most often expressed by adopting parents is that they’ll never be considered the “real” parent. Sometimes that subconscious fear is so powerful and pervasive that it prompts adoptive parents to want to put as much distance as possible between their newly-formed family and the spare parent out there who is just waiting to swoop in and take over (the latter part is largely a myth, by the way). This fear is at the root of many of the dysfunctional thoughts and behaviors  in adoption relationships. But though simple awareness of that fear, it can be examined and resolved in a mindful and functional way.

Parenting in Duality 
Such fear can lead parents to resort to Either/Or thinking, It’s very dualistic, starkly black and white, pitting a winner against a loser. Either WE are the “real” parents or THEY are. Either WE can legitimately claim the child or THEY can. In the old days of closed adoption, the child could barely even wonder about her other parents without igniting feelings of betrayal in her own heart. Those feelings of torn loyalty can, figuratively, split the child in two.

Remember that Solomon tale? When two women came to his court claiming the same baby, the wise king knew how to tease out the “real” mother. His solution was to order a sword brought forth to split the baby in half, thereby guaranteeing that both claimants got her share. The “real” mother was the one to do whatever it took to keep the baby whole and well, even if it meant loss to her.

To help our children grow up whole, we must avoid splitting the baby with Either/Or thinking.

So what is the alternative? How do parents provide wholeness for the baby or child they adopted? How do they avoid splitting the baby?

It’s simple: switch to Both/And thinking.

Moving toward Unity
Adoption creates a split between a child’s biology and biography. Openness is an effective way to heal that split. That’s the premise of the book I’ve written with my daughter’s first mom. Your child’s biology comes from one set of parents and her biography gets written by another set. The contributions from both sets are vital to her. All of her parents make her the person she is and who she will be. Both sets of parents have a claim on that child, and the child should have permission to claim both. Otherwise she feels split.

We are already familiar with and adept at Both/And thinking. We know that parents are capable of loving multiple children — of course they are! Why not allow – encourage — children to do the same with multiple parents? Does loving my son, Reed, take away anything from my daughter, Tessa? Of course not; that would be ridiculous. Likewise, enabling my children to love me for mycontribution and their birth moms for their contributions takes away nothing from me. It only adds to them — my children. Tessa and Reed get Both/And. And I’m not splitting my babies.

It’s helpful to bring into the open any concerns that can lurk beneath the surface in the minds of adoptive parents. Even deeper than the fear that birth parents will reclaim the child is the fear that the adopting parents will never themselves feel legitimate due to a competing claim on the child. That’sa fear that adopting parents can examine and resolve mindfully.

 Lori’s trip to the annual gala in Rochester, NY is sponsored by Adoption STAR.

The annual gala is sponsored by CNY Fertility & Healing Arts.

December 21st marked the one year anniversary of the arrival home of our baby Wee. The picture above was taken on the drive home from NYC. If this wasn’t special enough, we also learned that he will celebrate his adoption day January 3rd. We are so thrilled to finally have this day scheduled for many reasons. Officially he will be ours forever and when the judge signs his adoption decree, he will become a U.S. citizen. This is a monumental day in his life and our life as his parents.

Wee’s adoption day also marks the end of our six year journey through adoption. There have been so many wonderful and beautiful moments since we decided to adopt. However, the process of adoption is exhausting and stressful. It will be nice to put the paperwork, form-filing, and extensive waiting behind us. Even though Wee was ours the second we saw his photo (on Valentine’s Day 2010), it will be a relief to have all official documents signed, sealed and delivered.

So much has happened since Spring 2006 when we made the decision to pursue adoption. There have been a lot of ups and downs. Many moments of pure joy and sadness. Waiting months upon months for your child to come home is extremely difficult. Knowing he is thousands of miles away growing, learning and experiencing so many firsts without you can truly test your heart’s ability to cope. It was also difficult to decide how and when to adopt a second time. Having to round up another $25,000 to make it happen was a challenge. We knew we would find a way, but nevertheless the price tag of adoption is daunting. Thank goodness we were able to make it happen a second time.

For as long as I live I will never forget what it was like to see and hold my babies for the first time- not in a hospital but an airport. After so many months of viewing pictures and dreaming of what they smelled like, sounded like, and felt like in my arms my breath never felt deeper or more at ease than the moment I embraced my two boys. We are lucky because both of our sons were completely at ease with us the moment we met. They were not scared or unhappy. It was as if we had always known each other and simply waited for our day to be together. Destiny.

As I anticipate the birth of our third child, I understand that the day we meet will be similar but different and special in its own way. It has taken me a long time to grasp that I am pregnant. Dreams don’t always become reality. I dreamed so long of pregnancy my mind simply could not accept that it was really happening. Each day that passes, my due date approaching, new realizations come to light. Some are simple and some are profound.

While wrapping our presents and adhering the labels, it occurred to me that next year I will be writing five names under “from.” Wow. Who will this person be and what will they be called? As I placed our stockings on the mantel, I thought, next year we will need to move them down and make room for one more. The stockings embroidered with “AJ” and “Erica” that once stood alone are now crowded out by those of three beautiful children. It is things like this that leave me awe-struck.

Each one of my children has made a dream come true. They have been my saviors from a deep and debilitating grief. My oldest, Min allowed me to become a mommy. His arrival relieved a pain that at one point seemed insurmountable. Baby Wee allowed me the chance to raise another baby and to see Min’s own dream of big brotherhood come true. He completed our family in a way only he could with his funny personality and kind little heart. And my unborn baby has allowed me to experience pregnancy and understand all that it entails. I no longer have to wonder if it will ever happen for us. I no longer feel that sense of longing. And while I will not feel completely at ease until baby is born, no matter what happens, this little being has given me so many gifts already.

My children have all fulfilled dreams- long, hard-fought dreams. But what is most profound is that all of them fulfilled dreams I didn’t know I had 9 years ago when we thought that parenthood was just a nine month jaunt away.

As we stand before the judge on January third another milestone is taking place. That very day I will have entered my third trimester; the day we meet our newborn baby grows ever closer. More fulfilled visions to come as we get to introduce oUr boys to their brother or sister. Three little faces, all ours. All of them miracles in their own right.

The holidays just aren’t the holidays without my favorite movie, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Clark W. Griswold and his endearing, often mind-boggling antics have been making people laugh for nearly 30 years.

Christmas Vacation came out in 1989. I saw it in the theater. And since then my brother and I have prattled off it’s quotes while giggling and reminiscing of the dozens of ridiculous scenes in the movie.

The movie starts out with the Griswold’s heading out to cut down their tree in the “front-wheel drive sleigh.” Clark moves on to putting up his outdoor Christmas lights. Then the parents arrive and other family members.  Who could forget Uncle Lewis.

Uncle Lewis: Hey Grizz, Bethany and I figured out the perfect gift for you.
Clark : Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything.
Uncle Lewis : Dammit, Bethany, he guessed it.

Everyone knows a quote from this movie. One of my favorite is Clarke’s rant about his fun, old fashioned family Christmas. Of course the highlight of the movie is the arrival of Cousin Eddie played by Randy Quaid. There are so many memorable quotes and scenes pertaining to Eddie including the scene in the Griswold living room where Clark and Eddie are drinking out of the moose mugs. Eddie is sporting his dickey. Don’t know what that is? You can read about it here. 

While Clark is a good natured family man, it is hilarious to see his feisty side. This is portrayed several times through correspondence with his snooty neighbors, Todd and Margo.

Todd: Hey Griswold. Where do you think you’re gonna put a tree that big?
Clark : Bend over and I’ll show you.
Todd : You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Griswold.
Clark : I wasn’t talking to you.

 And as you enjoy all the comes with the holiday season such as music, food, and decor be glad that you don’t live next door to a man who puts so many lights on his house that the power company had to turn on their auxiliary nuclear generator.

What is your favorite quote or scene from this movie?

If this isn’t your favorite holiday movie, what is?

BTW- the moose mugs are available for sale on-line– for only $19.95 a piece.

The world I envisioned when pregnant has revealed itself. I have been let in on the conversations of body changes and breast feeding. I have answered the question,”How are you feeling?” several dozen times. I have purchased and read pregnancy publications, and not as a preemptive or positive thinking method, but because I am actually pregnant. My attention has maneuvered to the 0-3 sizes, the tiny clothes no longer a painful reminder that I would never hold my child the day they were born.

But somehow I just don’t feel like I belong. I’m here. I’m bulging and sporting the belly band, but when I feel my hand approaching the small of my back in the traditional pregnancy pose, I smack it down. The voice creeps up and hisses, remember! Remember how the site of a pregnant woman turned your stomach in knots. Remember the buckets of tears you cried over the past eight years. Stand up straight and whatever you do, don’t rub your belly.

We are our own worst critics, as they say. I understand that I am needlessly chastising myself for behaving ‘pregnant.’ But old habits die hard.  I have reached the haven of pregnancy but with one foot out the door as if I am ready to run if the situation turns sour. My guard is continually up.

I’m on the platform but I cannot get on the train; and even though the whistle is blowing, I just cannot seem to make the leap to the comforting countryside passage.

I don’t necessarily have these feelings because I am overly afraid of losing my baby. This is another thing that has caught me completely by surprise. While I have trepidation about my baby going to term and delivering okay, anxiety has not taken over my life as I always suspected. Every now and then a nervous thought creeps into my head about my baby dying in utero or being born with a disease or disorder. But my vision of being overly anxious because of our circumstances has not proven to be true. And I am extremely thankful for this sense of peace. It is as unexpected as the pregnancy itself.

My feelings of pregnancy-ostracism are completely self-inflicted.  I am signaling reminders all the time that I am different. When I notice that a certain moment or instance would normally have ripped my heart to shreds, I cannot help but divert back to pre-pregnancy me. Recently I was enveloped in a conversation with a few women regarding pregnancy symptoms and birthing plans. I was sort of half listening well aware that for the first time  I was actually participating in such a conversation instead of avoiding the circle at all costs.

It has been strange to discover that while I am allowing myself to be involved in pregnancy and newborn conversations, and others are now including me because they are no longer trying to protect me, I simply am not able to succumb to the feeling that I am finally a part of this ever-coveted genre of females. I don’t feel this huge sense of relief that my place as a woman is finally secure because I’m in the circle. It is an acceptance that I cannot fully grasp; maybe it’s that I don’t want to.

I thought that when I became visibly pregnant which I am as of late, that my ability to see that this pregnancy is real would blossom. However, I still have to keep looking down at my belly as a reminder that this is true. But the reminders come often and my connection to the little one growing inside my body and not just inside my heart, becomes stronger every day.

When Min touches my belly and talks to the baby, I soften. I embrace all of these tiny moments, each one a miracle for us as a family. And then I am able to revel in this dream come true. I guess I should not be surprised that it is my two boys that extend my happiness, serving as a reminder that they will both be big brothers soon. As my five year old chirps that he can’t wait for our new baby to come, my heart leaps.

This morning my mother-in-law lent us a book she read to my husband in anticipation of his brother arriving. It is entitled, “The New Baby.” Thumbing through the pages I saw the illustration of a mommy with a big pregnant belly. Later I wondered if my MIL hoped to one day share this book with us, feeling her own sense of hurt for herself and us.

It made me realize again that the hurt of infertility is felt by those who love us as well. This pregnancy is a dream come true for our loved ones.This is the reason why I let my mother take a picture of me this afternoon. She has waited a long time to see her only daughter pregnant.

Before bed Min and I read the book about bringing a new sibling home. My sense of peace that this nearly nine year journey is finally boasting a clear understanding left a warm sensation around my heart.

Maybe next time I will forget my inhibitions for a moment and reveal my baby name list and park in the ‘Expectant Moms’ space at the grocery store.

 *image from The Grieving Dads Project 

So this post should have gone out roughly six days ago. Alas, here it is.

Last Friday I was lucky enough to be invited to partake in a segment entitled, “The Pain of Miscarriage” on Huff Post Live.

 I was joined by 3 other panelists, Abby Lagunoff, a miscarriage healer in Los Angeles, Marybeth Lowell, mother of one in Seattle,and Kelly Farley, a bereaved father, recovery coach and the author of ‘Grieving Dads: To the Brink and Back.’

Notably the highlight of the segment was Kelly Farley author and creator of the Grieving Dads Project.

It was refreshing to hear the opinion of a man regarding the topic of miscarriage and still birth. While the segment was not on infertility specifically, he did mention that he and his wife struggled through infertility as well.

Farley stated, “I went into a pretty heavy tailspin, into despair and grief. A lot of it had to do with the fact that I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t seek help. Eventually I gave in and sought some help.”

Farley recommended that men dealing with pregnancy loss must give themselves space to cope.

“It’s not weak to cry,” he said. “And it’s okay to show emotion. It’s okay to talk about it.”

There were many tweets that came in during the 20 minute segment from men.  I am happy to pass along the Grieving Dads Project information to share with the men in your life. Kelly has created an excellent and much needed resource.

In the near future look forward to a guest post from Kelly Farley.

Here is a past post from giving the male perspective of infertility- Factor In

 I am linking up with Keiko from the Infertility Voice and Pamela from Silent Sorority to participate in their Open Salon, “To Mom or Not to Mom.” They created this to discuss both sides of the motherhood debate from their unique perspectives. Why? To parse out the concerns and vulnerabilities of transition within the ALI (adoption/loss/infertility) community without tripping over political correctness and delicate sensibilities.

Head over to each of their blogs to read some very interesting points of view. 

Below is my contribution to the project.

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I sit here staring at my computer screen because I don’t know exactly what to write. I have on pajamas and a thick pair of socks I took from my dad the last time we were at our cottage. It’s just after 9PM and I am exhausted. Each day is so full. Raising two young boys sucks the life out of me. I really don’t feel like I can ever fit it all in. And there are days when I look around at my house and feel like it oozes filth.

But tonight the vacuuming will have to wait. The clothes will remain in the laundry basket. I need to formulate this post; I have been waiting a long time.

I look down at my belly and it is protruding all of a sudden. I am 17 weeks pregnant and still cannot believe that this is really happening to me- to us. I have known about the pregnancy for 13 weeks, and it is just beginning to seem real. I can finally say the words and not feel like I am speaking of someone else. But often it still feels like an outer-body experience. I have accepted that this is my truth, but my fragile heart and mind teeter on the edge of disbelief.

After 8 1/2 years of battling infertility, I finally got a positive pregnancy test. I will never forget that morning. I called AJ right away and through massive sobs told him the news. I was in my office at work; no one else was there. I called my RE’s office and basically shouted in the phone, I’m pregnant!
The secretary put my doctor on the phone. When I heard his kind voice with an accent proclaim, “Oh, Erica, this is such wonderful news,” I realized that was just one of some many things I waited over 8 years to experience. Even though I love my second RE (who was my doctor for the majority of my TTC journey), I was never able to experience anything good at their practice. It was all sad and complicated and extremely difficult.

Yesterday at a routine doctor visit, I heard the baby’s heart beat for the first time in a month. Immediately after the Doppler touched my abdomen, there it was- strong and loud. Such a pure sound. I haven’t cried much since the first week of finding out. But when I hear that sound or see baby on the ultrasound screen, I tear up. S/he’s in there growing and thriving. The heart beat is strong. I can already tell s/he is a fighter. Almost like he knows what mommy and daddy have been through.

My OB (having an OB is a triumph in and of itself) said to me,” That must be such a great sound after all you have been through.”

He has no idea.

We waited until the end of the first trimester to tell people besides our immediate family. And I have waited until this point to write about my pregnancy for several different reasons. I understand completely that my news may be painful for others. I know all too well the bitter sweet tug at the heart upon hearing pregnancy announcements. And the ironic part for me over the past few years is that the pregnancies of women who didn’t ever think they would get pregnant were harder for me to deal with. I just kept thinking if a miracle happened for them, why not me? I just could not let go my vision of a pregnancy. For some reason even after Wee came home and we were all so happy, I did not feel like I was done yet. I knew I wouldn’t adopt again, but I strongly felt that I would have another child. I just didn’t know how.

I haven’t been able to write about my pregnancy because I didn’t know what to say. We are extremely grateful for this opportunity, but I never imagined I would feel such a vast array of emotions. I spent so much time thinking about getting pregnant, I never had the chance to learn about or understand the actual pregnancy.

One of my first mental challenges was a looming question. Where do I fit in now? I won’t be just an adoptive mom because I will have a biological child. I have the awesome opportunity to be an adoptive mother which sets me apart from those who are not adoptive parents. And no matter what the circumstances I will never have the innocence of most during their first pregnancy.  I am pregnant and will get to experience everything that goes with it, but that is where the similarities end. 

I felt somewhat lost and hoped that my place in this community was still in tact. I realize my story may end up differently than I ever imagined, but there will always be one thing that links me to everyone who has experienced infertility. I know and appreciate the toll that infertility can take on a human being. Despite my end result, I will always be infertile. I will never forget having to ask myself what I will do with my life if motherhood isn’t part of it. Infertility does not define me, but it is part me forever like my green eyes and silly sense of humor.

 I feel the weight of my 8 1/2 years of IF. But I am trying very hard to live in the moment. No matter what this is my only pregnancy to cherish.Slowly I have come to understand that my realization of a dream can offer hope to others. I have so much perspective to share. And those of you who have been reading my blog for a long time know that I am honest about my feelings. The realities of infertility are too hard to ignore. Over the past few months I have thought of several different posts to write- lessons I am learning now that I am on the “other side.” I am working toward gaining even more compassion and will take this chance I have been given to continue working to help others become parents.
In the past few days my stomach has “popped” as they say. Walking by a mirror or window and catching a glimpse of my protruding belly will never occur without a double take. I have to show my brain that my eyes are not playing tricks on me.

Not too long ago I wrote a post about my slim chance of conceiving. I had a Crescent Moon Size Chance of getting pregnant naturally. And I as I wrote then, I guess that was all I needed. Maybe it is all you need as well.

In the spring I went to the PFM PO Box as I routinely do. I wasn’t expecting much to be there as we had just finished up the 2012 gala. I spotted a blue envelope and eagerly opened the card.

As I read the words tears spilled down my cheeks. One of our medical grantees from 2011 had recently given birth to a baby boy. This was the first success (as far as I know) that we celebrated from a grantee who had undergone an ART (Assisted Reproductive Technology) procedure.

We have helped a total of 7 couples with ART medical expenses so far (since 2010). With the difficult odds that IF sufferers face when doing IUI or IVF, I know that our grant money helps give people a chance at conception. But it is never a sure thing. These are the people that we have tried to touch base with after receiving the grant. But until now we had never heard back from anyone. This doesn’t mean that no one has been successful; but we are left to wonder if they found their way out of IF or are still hoping for their own miracle.

I have been given permission to share with you the testimonial written by Dan and Marybeth about the pregnancy, birth, and young life of their son, Faolan.

Seeing his little face reinforces within me why I chose to devote such a large part of my life to helping those suffering through infertility. It helps me to understand my own difficult journey to parenthood.

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This is a beautifully written series by Jessica at Too Many Fish to Fry.

All four segments offer insight into different stages of infertility. They are all extremely touching. This is a wonderful way to try and help people understand the vast devastation and loss felt by those in the ALI community.

Part 1: The Devastation of Pregnancy Loss: A Profile of Courtney Cheng

Part 2: Sarah in Three Acts

Part 3: The Memory Keeper: Childless/Childfree After Loss and Infertility

Part 4: The Den Mother: Parenting After Infertility