Just don’t open it.

Just don’t open it.

Those ancient Greeks were pretty insightful when you think about it. Pandora, the first woman, had a box full of crazy that was better left closed. I bet most of us can relate to that. I found mine a few weeks ago.

Christmas Eve was a tough one this year, emotionally. The week of Thanksgiving, I had a CT scan that showed I had a didelphic uterus, rather than uterine remnants. The difference here is huge. My original diagnosis from 10 years ago meant there was never, ever, any chance of pregnancy, ever. The message from the CT scan meant that there may in fact be a chance of something, someday, with minor surgery. After 10 years of grieving, someone gave a glimmer of hope. So, to get a better sense of this confusing situation, I scheduled an ultrasound for the morning of December 24th.

I had put this behind me. 2004 was the year I spent going to doctor after doctor, getting test after test to figure out what was going on inside of me. MRKH was a blow. It was so hard. It has taken almost a decade to come to grips with. I have spent 10 years grieving the loss of any hope of pregnancy, ever. To have the door of possibility opened again after all of this time is so scary. I want to hope for it, but I’m so afraid to get my hopes up.

The ultrasound went fine, but about 10 minutes after I left the building, they called and asked me to come back for another one. I cried. I thought my days of being a guinea pig were over.

It was easier when I was 16. When I was 16, I didn’t really understand what this meant for my life, and it didn’t really matter.

I want to know which way to go. I want to know if I should continue with my grieving and move toward adoption, or if I should continue seeking medical treatment. I imagine that this is the way it feels for countless other couples dealing with infertility. When is it time to leave behind the doctors? When do you decide that you are done with tests, exams, and rude questions? How do you make the choice to leave behind any chance of pregnancy?

Do you ever stop believing in miracles?

After a week of hoping, the news came back (on December 31) that everything was as it was before, and the doctor only ordered more tests because of a possible renal track anomaly. I wonder if he had any idea what kind of emotional worm-can this opened. I heard on the news yesterday that 9 women in Sweden received uterus transplants, but pregnancy would still have to be achieved via IVF. That’s a step closer, but I still don’t think there’s anything in that black bag for me.

In the last 2 weeks, I’ve gotten back to where I was before Thanksgiving. Maybe I’m even better than I was before. We signed up for our first adoption agency information meeting. It’s not for a few weeks, but that is perfectly fine. We’re going to take our time with this.

I do believe in miracles, and I always will. Right now, though, I think our miracle is going to come in the way we least expect.

And, truth be told, there is so much good happening in my life right now that I can hardly wait until my next post to fill you in.

Some days are Caramel

Today I’m thinking about Forest Gump and his box of chocolates. First off, I have some absolutely wonderful news to report. I have accepted a position with a marketing company that specializes in the food industry. I’m just an administrative assistant, but I am so excited to be in a creative environment with people working on projects that I think are fascinating. I’m looking forward to helping out in any areas I can so that I can learn as much as possible about the industry. They already said they are looking forward to using my writing talents. This job seems like it will be the perfect answer to my prayers.

Tuesday was my last day at the auto body shop, and while I am happy to be moving on, I will miss my coworkers. I am ecstatic that I have found a new direction for my career. I’m nervous too. Starting in a new place is scary. At least I got a new wardrobe out of the deal!

On the flip side, last night was a tough one, infertility speaking. Yesterday morning I had a CT scan to check and see if other systems are formed correctly, since some studies have shown 30% of people with MRKH can also have renal anomalies. Yuck. Last night I was at darling hubby’s basketball game, and there was a couple about our age with a  very cute 18 month old son. Later at home we were going over our health insurance policy because we are considering switching, and hubs wasn’t thinking when he started reading the very long list of free maternity care services included in our current policy. I lost it. In the kitchen. It was too much for me yesterday.

I calmed down. Life continues. And today is set to be a very beautiful one indeed. Charlotte’s coming over for a baking night. And today I’m going to order our Christmas cards and sign us up for an adoption information session in 2 weeks. I am so grateful for this beautiful life and all that is in it, even the chocolates with that gross coconut/strawberry stuff inside.

“One small step…”

Knowing that I will never be pregnant, no matter how hard I storm the gates of heaven, is something that has taken me many years to accept. I still have my off days. Some days are smiles, some days are tears, some days are calm, and some days are far from it. Some days, the best days, are beautiful opportunities for growth.

It might not look like much, but it was a milestone for me today when I created my adoption board on Pinterest. “Adoption is the new pregnant” is my title, after a shirt I saw on the site. It may be a little overly cheery for those facing the sharp pain of infertility (including me on my off days), but I think I am finally ready to embrace this line. Pretty sure. I hope.

While attempting to focus on the positive and scouring Pinterest for adoption pins, I found the blog of this amazing woman. She’s in her 20s, like me, and she’s been down the same road. Like me, she has known since her teens that she could never be pregnant. I’ve only read some of her blog so far, and I find it to be well beyond inspirational. It was exactly what God needed me to see at this point in my life. Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien, if you ever read this. And thank you, God, for helping me and James along this road.