Living the Lie

Is what I have felt I'm doing all week. I am, to be honest, having a tough time coping with a lack of control over this whole process, my upcoming big 3-0, and dumb*sses who have no sense of boundaries.

Obviously, with adoption, there is a lack of control. We had to go through about 10 social workers before finding one who was willing to even speak to our family, due to my husband's having been married previously. Which is BS. Then the SW takes the word of a million other people, all of whom may or may not have an agenda against adoption and/or your being parents, as Gospel. Ultimately, it was Doctor #2's unwillingness to work with Doctor #1 that has held up the process, to a degree more than money has.

But I was surprised to discover this week, REs also have the ability - and it seems in some cases the drive - to "play God". My H and I interviewed one this week, and were not impressed. When the RE mentioned that their goal was a healthy pregancy with one baby, I asked about twins, mentioning that there are quite a few sets of on both sides of my family. I'm not some Pollyanna in rose-colored glasses; I know that a "twin" pregnancy would have to be watched more carefully.

The RE we interviewed, however, launched into a long tirade about multiples being a selfish choice, Octomom's RE being irresponsible, and multiple births being life threatening to mother and babies. Apparently, they will cancel your cycle if they feel you've produced too many follicles unless you agree that "selective reduction" (and I hate that term; just call it "babykilling" and spare me the pretentious euphemisms). We're kind of torn because they are the best in the area, with the most flexible schedule. I look at the pictures of the recently born octuplets and feel so sad - they look so small and emaciated I don't know how they'll ever grow up healthy, and that probably is due to sharing a womb with 7 other siblings. However, babykilling a twin is insane. Since babykilling is ultimately the mother's choice, we may just give the RE lip service beforehand, get the IUI, then move forward with our twin pregnancy and get another OB-GYN stat. Should we be lucky enough, that is.

I hit the big 3-0 in a few weeks and just feel miserable about it. I really feel like I should have either found the right career or been a mother by now, if not both. Instead, I have chosen to forgo graduate school or a career change into something that's more suited to my interests, strengths, and personality, because of wanting to stay in my current career to earn the $$$ that adoption/fertility treatmments are going to cost. It's not that I dislike my current job, it's just that I'm never going to LOVE this kind of work, and that kind of sucks. I feel like myself, my personal relationships, and my coworkers get shortchanged because of this. Yet another piece of my happiness being chipped away by what a b*tch Mother Nature has been.

Last but not least, are the dumb*sses with no boundaries. Yes, I have stopped drinking coffee and alcohol. Yes, I have had a few doctor's appointments and personal days recently. NO, it is NOT your place to comment loudly on both (on one occasion within earshot of my boss), while smirking, then email me links to articles about "Adoption is International Baby Stealing", Octomom, or religious propaganda against IVF and/or launch into stories about what a pain it is to take care of children.

Number one, this is my and my husband's decision. Nobody else gets any say, although I may ask my friends or loved ones for advice or to be my ear when I vent. However, if I haven't told you outright what's going on, that means I don't want you to know so STFU. Number two, it is my right to use my time, as well as my financial and emotional resources as I see fit. But bottom line? If I were already pregnant, nobody would be acting like this. I hate being made to feel like people think I'm doing something wrong in wanting to be a mom. I'm not even on any fertility drugs yet, and I feel short tempered and moody.

I think I've just come to the conclusion that whether you're trying to become a mom through adoption, or through fertility treatments, or both, you are always going to run up against idiots who buy into the notion that "If you were supposed to be a parent, you'd already have a baby" and then decide to hold you to a much higher standard than the beer-swilling, trailer-park-dwelling welfare momma who gets knocked up with her fourth before age 25 on the first try. And unfortunately, some of these idiots are in the position of power to say yes or no to your moving forward.

Yet, tomorrow morning, I've got to get up, make the LONG trek to work, and see how well I can delude others into thinking I'm just thrilled with my "childfree" life.

Failure

After many, many tearful hours of discussion and argument, the H and I have decided to put the adoption on hold, thus delaying our children coming home. It was a very hard decision, and I'm still trying to make peace with it. Nobody's giving out adoption loans right now, we'd be idiots to tap into our 401ks at this point, and we don't have the 10K in cash sitting around that we needed to jump through the next hoop. I am sitting here with my $50 Fit Flops, Coach Bag, and purebred kitten on the desk next to me, kicking myself in the butt for not having made different choices and saved much more $$ over the years. (OK, the kittens, were worth every cent. It was that breed or nothing thanks the H's allergies. But really, did I need MAC makeup before I was old enough to buy wine with my real driver's license?!)

I am going to be 30 in May, and likely not be a mom by then, which for me is a very bitter pill to swallow. And here I am feeling sorry for myself, when the fact is that our choice means two more little kids sitting alone in an orphanage that much longer, mostly due to our selfishness and somehat fear.

We are both going back and forth (I'm back when he's forth and vice versa usually) about whether or not we are done with the reproductive endochrinologist or not. To say I have mixed feelings about this is the understatement of the century. It sounds childish, but I only want to move forward with the next level of treatment if it works (as in, yields a pregnancy that I carry to term) the first or second time. Male Factor is expensive as crap to treat, so once we go past 5 or 6 cycles, that money would have paid for an adoption.

I ended up having to fire my doctor, due to his being such an a-hole about signing off on my medical form. Still have to find a new one, and don't honestly have the mental energy to do that right now.

We are also arguing, again endlessly, on a country. H, of course, wants to adopt from the most expensive country on the planet, and I prefer a different one, where the adoption fees are about 1/3 the price. This is too long for a blog post. We are now investigating a "compromise" country, which unfortunately would mean we'd have to change adoption agencies. Boo!

So as of right now, there's still a light at the end, it's just that the tunnel's longer than we thought.

I am off to drown my sorrows in Ugly Betty reruns.

P.S. F*U to my ninth-grade sex ed teacher, who made it sound like getting pregnant was as easy as farting. And F*U to that "psychic" last year who told me I'd be a mom by 2010.

T-3 days till first homestudy meeting

Am I getting together our marriage certificate, passports, birth certs, etc?

Am I rehearsing in my head what I'll say to the SW?

Am I finishing my obnoxiously long autobio statement?

Am I doing any reading on Ethiopian culture, attachment issues, etc so that I sound like an enlightened PAP?

Am I pushing to market my newest fundraiser so that we can pay for this all?

No, no, no, no, and no.

What I am doing is looking at baby bedding online, debating the merits of decorating the beans' room in jungle animals vs turtles vs chic lime-and-chocolate retro designs.

I am so not normal.