We are getting ready to adopt a 17 month old boy from Vietnam at the end of this month. Life is crazy right now.
It was the end of October when we received a referral to adopt a 13 month old boy with a minor correctable medical condition (he has a hernia). Wow! At that point we were thinking about a Plan B since we were beginning to think an adoption would never happen. I asked my doctor about hernias and she told me it is very common, and the surgery is usually performed around age four since sometimes they 'go back in on their own'. DH and I talked and agreed that this little boy is the one. Our hearts melted when we saw his big smile in the photo that was sent to us.
I was worried about the referral falling through so I did not want to write in this blog until we had airline tickets purchased and a hotel booked. These past four months have flown by and we have been researching and purchasing baby/toddler products. I am happy, but also freaked out about becoming a mother. Many mixed emotions these past months.
Not sure if I should continue this blog or create a new one as I begin my journey as a parent. This blog has helped me through so much pain and sadness, and it has helped me let go of old dreams while moving on to new ones. My road to motherhood has been long and broken, so I am creating a new path. I hope this path becomes a trail where others can find their way through the bumps and rough patches to find their own peace and fulfillment, whether that be a life without children or motherhood.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Friday, July 27, 2012
Cleaning Therapy & Olympic Days
My bad day has been swept away thanks to some good old-fashioned cleaning therapy. Nothing like cleaning and tidying to make one feel happy. Not only does it brighten your outlook it also makes your living space look great.
The Olympics begin tonight and I am excited to watch the opening ceremony. Looking forward to watching it all unfold on television as DH and I eat takeout later. I remember how the Vancouver Olympic Games opened just after my miscarriage occurred and the television coverage was a wonderful diversion as I focused on the competitions not on my pain and loss. Looking forward to the swimming, gymnastics, dressage, and other sports.
Must do a bit more tidying up as the in-laws are coming over on Sunday. Should be interesting as DH needs help from FIL to install new kitchen faucet as we must shut off the main water valve for the house. Fingers crossed we can turn the water back on Sunday evening.
The Olympics begin tonight and I am excited to watch the opening ceremony. Looking forward to watching it all unfold on television as DH and I eat takeout later. I remember how the Vancouver Olympic Games opened just after my miscarriage occurred and the television coverage was a wonderful diversion as I focused on the competitions not on my pain and loss. Looking forward to the swimming, gymnastics, dressage, and other sports.
Must do a bit more tidying up as the in-laws are coming over on Sunday. Should be interesting as DH needs help from FIL to install new kitchen faucet as we must shut off the main water valve for the house. Fingers crossed we can turn the water back on Sunday evening.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
One of Those Days
Just having one of those days when the darkness of IF is falling over me and I need to vent. This morning, thanks to a tweet, I discovered a former workmate of DH's is pregnant. It really shouldn't bother me since she currently lives on another continent and I never see her, but I did feel a tinge of sadness when I noticed how she complained about normal pregnancy symptoms.
Cheered myself by meeting DH for a lunch date and then some retail therapy. It worked until I drove home and noticed the new neighbors around the corner had a massive stroller by their front door. I really can't win today.
Chatted with my Mother over the phone and she mentioned that the wife of someone I vaguely know (it's a small town and everyone knows one another) was finally out of ICU after a scary childbirth last week that involved an emergency c-section where a major artery was cut and she almost bled to death. That brought back memories of the miscarriage with the blood pouring out of me. Why did I have to hear that story today?
There has been no news on the adoption front and the big adoption agency still has not received their license from Vietnam. We are living in limbo as time moves on and we begin to lose confidence that we will ever parent a child. Just want to scream right now, but maybe I'll turn on the Spa channel on Sirius and gaze at my flower garden.
Cheered myself by meeting DH for a lunch date and then some retail therapy. It worked until I drove home and noticed the new neighbors around the corner had a massive stroller by their front door. I really can't win today.
Chatted with my Mother over the phone and she mentioned that the wife of someone I vaguely know (it's a small town and everyone knows one another) was finally out of ICU after a scary childbirth last week that involved an emergency c-section where a major artery was cut and she almost bled to death. That brought back memories of the miscarriage with the blood pouring out of me. Why did I have to hear that story today?
There has been no news on the adoption front and the big adoption agency still has not received their license from Vietnam. We are living in limbo as time moves on and we begin to lose confidence that we will ever parent a child. Just want to scream right now, but maybe I'll turn on the Spa channel on Sirius and gaze at my flower garden.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Post-Op Days
Today marks day 16 since my surgery, and I am feeling good. Yesterday I wore capris that had a zipper and waistband -- which is a big deal since I've been hanging out in loose fitting shorts, stretchy jersey skirts, and flowing sundresses for two weeks. Today I feel like myself again.
The pre-op care right before surgery was unnerving. The week before I had been trying to find a 'happy, peaceful place' in my mind to go to while meditating in preparation for the surgery. Everything was going well that morning as I breathed deeply, closed my eyes and pretended I was on a deserted beach in Hawaii. Then the nurse came to take my vitals. Everything is now put into a computer and she was having difficulty with it complaining about working with computers. Then she was giving me some meds the anesthiologist had prescribed and she couldn't make out his handwriting so she kept paging him. Finally another nurse came over and was able to read the number he had scribbled just as someone came to wheel me to the operating room. Honestly, I kept thinking there must be hidden cameras and this is part of Betty White's new show because the nurse looked to be in her mid-to-late 60s.
The porter wheeled me to a hallway and left me outside the operating room. I couldn't see more than a foot in front of me since I didn't have my glasses on. People walked by talking about their weekends as I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself on that deserted beach in Hawaii. It was a bit dehumanizing as I felt like a piece of furniture placed in the hall. Why don't they speak in hushed tones? When did a hospital become a loud-talking place? The operating room nurse came out and spoke to me in a hushed tone as well as my surgeon and the resident. Surprisingly the resident had the best bedside manner and answered my questions that relieved some of my jitters. Then I was wheeled into the operating room.
My heart started racing and I forgot the deserted beach in Hawaii as I moved myself onto the operating table under the glare of the lights. I wondered why they hadn't given me a cap to cover my hair like they did in California when I had the embryo transfers. I asked the nurse and she said I didn't really need one as she strapped the blood-pressure cuff on my arm. Meanwhile the anesthesiologist (who was NOT the one I met at my pre-op) brusquely got the i.v. started and tried to make small talk by joking about me getting time off work for recovery. I then said not really because I am a housewife. He replied with: "How old are your children?" I gulped and told him I don't have any children. He then remarked that my blood pressure was high and if I was taking anything for it. I said no, but all I could think about was: I'm in an operating room on an uncomfortable table; I've never had surgery before; I don't have a cap covering my hair; this anesthesiologist obviously has NOT read my medical history due to the question about my children who never made it to birth. Of course my blood pressure was elevated! I just closed my eyes as the nurse covered my mouth and nostrils with the 'mask' for oxygen and tried not to cry.
The surgery went well. According to my surgeon, a small cyst was removed by my right fallopian tube. All this was told to me as I was coming out of anesthesia so I am not sure about what happened with my tube. The resident who assisted the surgery came to see me again in post-op and asked which side I had my ectopic pregnancies. I told him it was my right side (where the cyst was) and he replied that the right tube was very inflamed. Unfortunately I was not cognizant enough to ask questions. In two weeks I am going to see my doctor for a post-op appointment so I will get more answers. She did say the cyst looked 'good' (I guess by that she means benign) but they sent it to pathology to make sure.
I was on painkillers for a couple of days but had to stop because they were affecting my emotions and making me moody and depressed. That was one side-effect I did not expect. The other unexpected effect was the gas pain. I've had gas before, but due to the anesthesia and swelling the gas seemed to be stuck inside me so I could not lie down and had to keep walking around the house.
Finally I feel good again. Going out for sushi with an old friend (who is also without child) tomorrow night and I can't wait. In five days I can lift heavy stuff and my flowers can't wait for that as they really need some TLC (a spirea has died and I may have lost an astilbe).
The pre-op care right before surgery was unnerving. The week before I had been trying to find a 'happy, peaceful place' in my mind to go to while meditating in preparation for the surgery. Everything was going well that morning as I breathed deeply, closed my eyes and pretended I was on a deserted beach in Hawaii. Then the nurse came to take my vitals. Everything is now put into a computer and she was having difficulty with it complaining about working with computers. Then she was giving me some meds the anesthiologist had prescribed and she couldn't make out his handwriting so she kept paging him. Finally another nurse came over and was able to read the number he had scribbled just as someone came to wheel me to the operating room. Honestly, I kept thinking there must be hidden cameras and this is part of Betty White's new show because the nurse looked to be in her mid-to-late 60s.
The porter wheeled me to a hallway and left me outside the operating room. I couldn't see more than a foot in front of me since I didn't have my glasses on. People walked by talking about their weekends as I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself on that deserted beach in Hawaii. It was a bit dehumanizing as I felt like a piece of furniture placed in the hall. Why don't they speak in hushed tones? When did a hospital become a loud-talking place? The operating room nurse came out and spoke to me in a hushed tone as well as my surgeon and the resident. Surprisingly the resident had the best bedside manner and answered my questions that relieved some of my jitters. Then I was wheeled into the operating room.
My heart started racing and I forgot the deserted beach in Hawaii as I moved myself onto the operating table under the glare of the lights. I wondered why they hadn't given me a cap to cover my hair like they did in California when I had the embryo transfers. I asked the nurse and she said I didn't really need one as she strapped the blood-pressure cuff on my arm. Meanwhile the anesthesiologist (who was NOT the one I met at my pre-op) brusquely got the i.v. started and tried to make small talk by joking about me getting time off work for recovery. I then said not really because I am a housewife. He replied with: "How old are your children?" I gulped and told him I don't have any children. He then remarked that my blood pressure was high and if I was taking anything for it. I said no, but all I could think about was: I'm in an operating room on an uncomfortable table; I've never had surgery before; I don't have a cap covering my hair; this anesthesiologist obviously has NOT read my medical history due to the question about my children who never made it to birth. Of course my blood pressure was elevated! I just closed my eyes as the nurse covered my mouth and nostrils with the 'mask' for oxygen and tried not to cry.
The surgery went well. According to my surgeon, a small cyst was removed by my right fallopian tube. All this was told to me as I was coming out of anesthesia so I am not sure about what happened with my tube. The resident who assisted the surgery came to see me again in post-op and asked which side I had my ectopic pregnancies. I told him it was my right side (where the cyst was) and he replied that the right tube was very inflamed. Unfortunately I was not cognizant enough to ask questions. In two weeks I am going to see my doctor for a post-op appointment so I will get more answers. She did say the cyst looked 'good' (I guess by that she means benign) but they sent it to pathology to make sure.
I was on painkillers for a couple of days but had to stop because they were affecting my emotions and making me moody and depressed. That was one side-effect I did not expect. The other unexpected effect was the gas pain. I've had gas before, but due to the anesthesia and swelling the gas seemed to be stuck inside me so I could not lie down and had to keep walking around the house.
Finally I feel good again. Going out for sushi with an old friend (who is also without child) tomorrow night and I can't wait. In five days I can lift heavy stuff and my flowers can't wait for that as they really need some TLC (a spirea has died and I may have lost an astilbe).
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Pre-Op Days
Five days until the laparoscopy. I can't wait until this cyst is out of my body. But as it gets closer my anxiety grows stronger. Aside from getting my wisdom teeth extracted when I was 18 way back in the 80s, I have never had surgery. It is the fear of the unknown that makes me most nervous.
Three days ago I went for a pre-op appointment at the hospital where the surgery will be performed. A nurse went through my medical history. She told me that I can't eat solid food the day before. Fine, I can handle a day of broth, jello, and apple juice. Bring on the clear fluids. Then she mentioned that the doctor has requested that I have an enema the evening before surgery. Yikes! Oh, boy. She said it's not so bad and that it makes me clean down there before the operation. I've never had one before, and I have no idea what to do. Here's hoping it comes with good directions. Perhaps I should start stretching exercises.
At the end of the pre-op I met with the anesthesiologist. When he walked in the room my immediate reaction was: "Are you old enough to be a doctor?" He looked to be in his mid-20s. Maybe he was a child prodigy, or perhaps he just has a baby face because his chin-length hair looks very 1990s. He was very professional and eased my fears about anesthesia by going through the process with me.
I just want to get this cyst out of my body and move on.
Three days ago I went for a pre-op appointment at the hospital where the surgery will be performed. A nurse went through my medical history. She told me that I can't eat solid food the day before. Fine, I can handle a day of broth, jello, and apple juice. Bring on the clear fluids. Then she mentioned that the doctor has requested that I have an enema the evening before surgery. Yikes! Oh, boy. She said it's not so bad and that it makes me clean down there before the operation. I've never had one before, and I have no idea what to do. Here's hoping it comes with good directions. Perhaps I should start stretching exercises.
At the end of the pre-op I met with the anesthesiologist. When he walked in the room my immediate reaction was: "Are you old enough to be a doctor?" He looked to be in his mid-20s. Maybe he was a child prodigy, or perhaps he just has a baby face because his chin-length hair looks very 1990s. He was very professional and eased my fears about anesthesia by going through the process with me.
I just want to get this cyst out of my body and move on.
Friday, June 1, 2012
June Already
I still can't believe it is June already. Time is flying by. During the month of May I stayed away from blogging -- and the blogs -- trying to forget about Mother's Day. My Mother downplays it (and it has always been treated as a greeting card holiday in my family) so it is not a huge deal at my family home, but MIL makes a big deal about it. We drove to DH's family home the day before and got take out friend chicken for dinner as I had BEGGED DH not to make me go to a restaurant on Mother's Day weekend. I survived Mother's Day 2012.
My gynecologist believes that my cyst is most likely a dermoid, which are usually benign. and my CA-125 came back with a really low number and the doctor believes this is good. My laparascopic surgery is scheduled for early July. I am nervous, but I just want this cyst out of my body.
In February I found a small lump below my breasts where my bra strap sits. It was the diameter of a pea, but hard and flat. At that point I was so busy with the ovarian cyst (running to MRI, ultrasounds), family stuff, traveling, that I waited until it was time to get my medical letter for the international adoption to address it. I had been thinking the worst, but I could not deal with it as the cyst. Thankfully my lump turned out to be a sebaceous cyst that had become infected, and nothing that ten-days of antibiotics couldn't fix. Big sigh of relief.
As for the adoption, we have been asked to gather documents/letters/fingerprints/photos in preparation for our dossier. When I first heard this I got so excited, but DH put my feet back on the ground and reminded me the big adoption agency still does not have a license for Vietnam. International adoption is a great deal of hurry up and wait. Now I am regretting telling people about our plans because they keep asking us when it's going to happen and everyone is amazed that it takes so long because there are "so many orphans in the world." Hopefully I am educating the fertile on the long process of international adoption.
Lately DH has been frustrated at his current place of employment. Several months ago he began subtly telling former colleagues that he might be open to a new challenge. Suddenly a few weeks ago an opportunity opened up, but first he must fly down south for an interview. I have mixed feelings because in life nothing comes without giving something up...and right now we cannot move due to our adoption dreams. Not saying anything more because he does not have an official offer, but it has been stressful dealing with the possibility of moving south again and my medical issues, not to mention the adoption stuff (the: is it happening or not question), plus family issues (my uncle's death, my parents aging, my sister not including us in family stuff), and house cosmetics (stripping wallpaper, painting, the deck rehab that is turning into a deck replacement).
Tonight DH and I are going out to this amazing restaurant downtown that we have not been to since December. I am super excited and the anticipation is over the top. Must remember to let worries slide off me like teflon.
My gynecologist believes that my cyst is most likely a dermoid, which are usually benign. and my CA-125 came back with a really low number and the doctor believes this is good. My laparascopic surgery is scheduled for early July. I am nervous, but I just want this cyst out of my body.
In February I found a small lump below my breasts where my bra strap sits. It was the diameter of a pea, but hard and flat. At that point I was so busy with the ovarian cyst (running to MRI, ultrasounds), family stuff, traveling, that I waited until it was time to get my medical letter for the international adoption to address it. I had been thinking the worst, but I could not deal with it as the cyst. Thankfully my lump turned out to be a sebaceous cyst that had become infected, and nothing that ten-days of antibiotics couldn't fix. Big sigh of relief.
As for the adoption, we have been asked to gather documents/letters/fingerprints/photos in preparation for our dossier. When I first heard this I got so excited, but DH put my feet back on the ground and reminded me the big adoption agency still does not have a license for Vietnam. International adoption is a great deal of hurry up and wait. Now I am regretting telling people about our plans because they keep asking us when it's going to happen and everyone is amazed that it takes so long because there are "so many orphans in the world." Hopefully I am educating the fertile on the long process of international adoption.
Lately DH has been frustrated at his current place of employment. Several months ago he began subtly telling former colleagues that he might be open to a new challenge. Suddenly a few weeks ago an opportunity opened up, but first he must fly down south for an interview. I have mixed feelings because in life nothing comes without giving something up...and right now we cannot move due to our adoption dreams. Not saying anything more because he does not have an official offer, but it has been stressful dealing with the possibility of moving south again and my medical issues, not to mention the adoption stuff (the: is it happening or not question), plus family issues (my uncle's death, my parents aging, my sister not including us in family stuff), and house cosmetics (stripping wallpaper, painting, the deck rehab that is turning into a deck replacement).
Tonight DH and I are going out to this amazing restaurant downtown that we have not been to since December. I am super excited and the anticipation is over the top. Must remember to let worries slide off me like teflon.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
April is the Cruellest Month
It's funny how life can be smooth and quiet for months and then everything seems to happen at once.
Early in March DH and I met with the big international adoption agency in town and we are now on the official waiting list for an adoption from Vietnam (after signing contracts and forking over a 3k retainer). We met with our social worker who must now amend our homestudy. Of course, the agency still has yet to receive a new license from the Vietnamese government.
In mid-March DH and I spent 10 days in Arizona: seeing the Grand Canyon, getting snowed-in during a blizzard in Sedona, seeing a couple of Texas Rangers games (we became big fans during our 2.5 years in North Texas), hanging out at the pool, and gazing at saguaros and the starry skies at night. Love the dry air for taking away the stiff aches in my elbows, knees, and ankles...although I had to cake the moisturizer onto my face each morning.
Got back in time for my nephew's 15th birthday. It was fun, but I cried when we got home from the festivities as I realized he was five when we first started trying to conceive. Even if we adopt there will be a big age gap between nephew and our child. Although DH pointed out that nephew will be able to baby-sit now.
At the beginning of April I received a call from my Mother telling me that her older, and last remaining, brother had suffered a major stroke and was in hospital. Oh, no. The next day she phoned to tell me that one of her oldest and dearest friends had suffered a heart-attack and was taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital (where she is on a waiting list for open-heart surgery). My much-loved uncle died one week later. Prior to his death, I went to see him late Easter morning, and although his eyes were closed he did blink a few times and appeared to form a slight smile when I told him his favourite niece was there. His funeral was a week ago. He played a major role in my childhood. (I will always remember that he and my aunt sent me my first bouquet of roses when I turned 16.) As long as I live I will always miss him. Even now I can not write this without crying.
The big surprise this week was the call from the gynecologist's office (my appointment is not until the end of July). The doctor had reviewed my file and looked at my MRI results and wanted me to have an updated ultrasound and a CA-125 blood test. I told them that I had just had an ultrasound a few weeks ago. Yesterday they phoned back and bumped up my appointment to this Monday telling me that the doctor wants to do surgery in May. I went for the CA-125 today (and it is NOT COVERED by the Ontario Health Insurance Plan).
This afternoon I was searching the internet for ovarian cancer and I am scared because I have some of the symptoms, although they are quite vague: fatigue, bloating, abdominal/pelvic pain. I am trying to remain calm, but inside I am freaking out. Why is it that when everything in life appears to be coming together it all falls apart.
Early in March DH and I met with the big international adoption agency in town and we are now on the official waiting list for an adoption from Vietnam (after signing contracts and forking over a 3k retainer). We met with our social worker who must now amend our homestudy. Of course, the agency still has yet to receive a new license from the Vietnamese government.
In mid-March DH and I spent 10 days in Arizona: seeing the Grand Canyon, getting snowed-in during a blizzard in Sedona, seeing a couple of Texas Rangers games (we became big fans during our 2.5 years in North Texas), hanging out at the pool, and gazing at saguaros and the starry skies at night. Love the dry air for taking away the stiff aches in my elbows, knees, and ankles...although I had to cake the moisturizer onto my face each morning.
Got back in time for my nephew's 15th birthday. It was fun, but I cried when we got home from the festivities as I realized he was five when we first started trying to conceive. Even if we adopt there will be a big age gap between nephew and our child. Although DH pointed out that nephew will be able to baby-sit now.
At the beginning of April I received a call from my Mother telling me that her older, and last remaining, brother had suffered a major stroke and was in hospital. Oh, no. The next day she phoned to tell me that one of her oldest and dearest friends had suffered a heart-attack and was taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital (where she is on a waiting list for open-heart surgery). My much-loved uncle died one week later. Prior to his death, I went to see him late Easter morning, and although his eyes were closed he did blink a few times and appeared to form a slight smile when I told him his favourite niece was there. His funeral was a week ago. He played a major role in my childhood. (I will always remember that he and my aunt sent me my first bouquet of roses when I turned 16.) As long as I live I will always miss him. Even now I can not write this without crying.
The big surprise this week was the call from the gynecologist's office (my appointment is not until the end of July). The doctor had reviewed my file and looked at my MRI results and wanted me to have an updated ultrasound and a CA-125 blood test. I told them that I had just had an ultrasound a few weeks ago. Yesterday they phoned back and bumped up my appointment to this Monday telling me that the doctor wants to do surgery in May. I went for the CA-125 today (and it is NOT COVERED by the Ontario Health Insurance Plan).
This afternoon I was searching the internet for ovarian cancer and I am scared because I have some of the symptoms, although they are quite vague: fatigue, bloating, abdominal/pelvic pain. I am trying to remain calm, but inside I am freaking out. Why is it that when everything in life appears to be coming together it all falls apart.
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