A Time To Celebrate!

I don't know about you, but the holiday I tend to dread during our time of waiting is coming up fast.  Every year when the pastel pink and purple cards start lining the aisle with advertisements for flowers and "finding the perfect gift," I can't help but to start hyperventilating and wish I was far far away.  Even church tends to be pure torture for me as they single out and celebrate the women whose wombs have been filled.  While they stand beaming with pride, I'm screaming inside for the children that have yet to become apart of my life.  Shame washes over me as I stay seated next to my adoring husband who grabs my hands and squeezes it, while others around me pat my back whispering, "Next year sweetie, I know it!"  Hello Mother's Day!

Tears fall on and off the day. Pain in the deepest part of my heart burns for a solid 24 hours. And the false smile pasted on my face as I celebrate with family gets a bit tiring as I listen to the joys and burdens of motherhood. Do I sound bitter?  I really don't mean too.  I mean, I get celebrating Mother's and Father's who work day in and day out for their children's well being.  But do we ever think about the barren, miscarried, and childless?  When is our day of celebrating?

How about now!  If your like me and despise this day, why not take maters in our own hands and celebrate the day that is to come!  This year, I encourage you to stand in your place of worship when they call for the mother's and the expecting.  You ARE expecting-in faith aren't you?  And when someone asks what's the deal, just smile and say, "I'm celebrating the children who are to come!"  Then go out with joy and live the day!  Get dressed up, relish the pastel laced cupcakes, take the day off and do something relaxing, tell your husband to buy you a card.  YOU and your future children are worth celebrating on this day!

So, will you help me celebrate this coming Mother's Day?  

Please write in and tell me how you are planning to celebrate!

No Matter How Small...

We came across this photo and thought it was too cute not to share!  

Living the Dream to be a NaPro Physician

Living the Dream to be a NaPro Physician:

Medical school was a challenge to Dr. Pakiz’ convictions. “There was an attitude that pro-life students should go into non-controversial fields like ophthalmology,” she said. “On rotations I had to be careful about the openness of my view points. Interestingly, in one class, we had small group discussions on ethical issues. The doctor leading the group was so liberal that she embraced my views because I was so different.”

“I think the most unique aspect about what we do is our approach to diagnosis and treatment, which looks for the root cause as opposed to treating symptoms. We also use the Creighton Model chart to get a deeper insight in our patients’ health.”

“Our initial evaluations are usually much longer than their previous experiences with other physicians,” said Pakiz. “And, our patients say that we are much more thorough in taking their history, too.”

But, her hard work pays off when she helps couples to achieve pregnancy and when she helps single women to become pain-free and resume normal lives with restored health. Those are her “rewards” as a NaPro physician.

Beautiful Family

This beautiful family lost their first babies, twins, when they were born prematurely. When the mama, Mia, got pregnant again through fertility drugs, they were told there were 6 fertilized eggs in her womb. They chose to keep them all, even though that meant they might lose them all. And here they all are, healthy and happy.

I Am An Adopted Child

Most kids hear stories from their mothers about how they figured out they were pregnant and the various cravings mommy had during pregnancy and the many rough hours spent in labor.  Luckily, I am no ordinary kid.  The story my mother tells me starts with a fortune cookie.

She always starts the story by saying how they had been waiting for a baby for awhile when she got a fortune cookie that said, "A long awaited package will soon be arriving." A few short weeks later they recieved a call that there was a baby girl for them to come pick up.  Even writing these few sentences about my entry into my family and I can't help but have a huge grin on my face.  I think she tells me this story every time we have fortune cookies, and while I must have heard it hundreds of times, I will always hope to hear it one hundred more.

I am an adopted child.

While we have never discussed the specifics as a family, my parents were unable to have children of their own and made the choice to adopt. They adopted my older sister, and a few years later, I came along to complete our little family.  They never have hidden the fact that we were adopted from my sister and me.  I remember growing up and being told how special that made me.  How somewhere out in this world was a woman that loved me so much that she made the ultimate sacrifice to give me a family and a life that she could not provide for me.  I knew that my sister and I were different from other kids, but I knew how special that difference made us, because we had a mom and dad that made the choice to love us.

Currently, I am two months away from my 28th birthday.  While I will never deny my curiosity about my genetic roots, I have yet had the desire to seek out and meet any member of my biological family.  I was lucky enough that my biological mother had written a letter to me shortly after my birth.  My parents kept this letter as well as some other correspondence safe and sound while I was growing up. Sometime early during my undergraduate years, my mom told me about the letter for the first time.  She let me know that they weren't hiding it from me, but that they wanted to make sure that I was old enough to understand whatever may be in that letter because they loved me.  She told me that they felt that I was ready and they would keep it safe for me as long as I wanted them to, and it was okay for me to ask for the letter anytime I felt I was ready for it.  The decison was mine.  I admit, I was more than confused at first about what to do.  Yes, I was curious, but was I ready?  I waited for a few years before I asked my Mom for my letter.  I had prayed and reflected on it many times over those years, but it had never felt like the right timing.  Even after I had the letter in my possession, it still took me a few days to get the courage to read it.  I remember coming home one day and just knowing that it was time.  I took my letter, sat in my favorite chair next to an open window on a beautiful day, and for the first time connected with my birthmother.  I spent most of the time reading in tears, thankful for this chance to know something about this woman, but also thankful to her for making the choice to let me go so I could become part of my family.  A few short days ago my mom gave me a few more cards that she found while she was going through some old keepsakes and papers.  Included in this batch was a sheet with information on both of my biological parents.  Moreso than ever, the idea that these two people exist somewhere out there is becoming real.  While I now know that by nature I probably look more like my biological father and inherited some of my biological mothers personality traits, I have had a solid enough upbringing to know that the two people that nurtured me are the only parents I will ever have or need.  While I can guess at all the ways I may be similar to these two strangers that created me, I know all the ways that my parents shaped me into who I am.  And who I am, above anything else, is my parent's daughter.

I have been racking my brain about what to write to you from an adopted child's perspective.  All I can think about is my Mom.  In my mind, my story starts with my mom and her fortune cookie.  She told me while I was growing up how much I was loved.  Answered any questions I may have had about my biological parents even though I can't imagine it was easy.  I even remember a few times as a child when we would pray for my biological mother and thinking how neat it was that my mom wanted to do that.  As I've grown, while its been unspoken, I know that she's been supportive and understanding of any curiostiy that I've had.  And I also know that if and when I make the choice to seek out my biological families that she and my dad would support me in that decision.  My story as an adopted child is one of love, and for that I am thankful and grateful everyday.  And I never feel more loved then when I see my mother's face as she tells me or anyone that will listen a few short sentences about a fortune cookie she ate all those years ago and how much she wanted that fortune to come true.

To all the parents on this blog that are waiting to adopt, all I can think about as I write this is not my own history, but what I wish the person I am now could say to my Mom and Dad while they were in the adoption process.  And since I can't travel back in time to share with them, I want to share these words with you.

You are already parents.

In all the ways that matter, you are already parents.  While the waiting and the process takes a heartbreaking amount of time, in your hearts, you are parents.  You have made the active choice to open your hearts and homes to child that needs you as much as you need them.  Know and believe everyday while you are waiting how special this choice is and how special that love is and how special YOU are.  While you pray for your future child, remember to pray for the people that are making the choice to give a child to a family that is waiting and wanting to love them.  Always tell your adopted child how special they are to you.  Remember that they will have questions from time to time about where it was that they came from and it's okay to not have all the answers.  They will ask, not because you haven't loved them enough, but because it is human nature to be curious. 

I wish that I could hug each and everyone of you that are waiting and tell you everyday how special you are.  I have never shared with anyone else how often I find myself praying for both the parents that are waiting and for the children that are going to be adopted.  I believe with everything in my heart that you are already families, you are just finding your way to one another.

While you and I may never know one another, I will pray for you now too.  That soon, like my mom and her fortune cookie, you will be given your own story.  And everytime you tell that story to your child, or anyone else that will listen, your child will feel as loved as I do when I hear mine.

No matter what it is, that story will be beautiful.

Spring Give~-A~Way

In honor of the changing weather, we decided to host a give~a~way!  The following quilt was donated by our dear friend and long time Waiting for Baby Story supporter-M.O.  She hand crafted this beautiful pastel quilt as if spring was beckoning her from her Minnesota home.  

This is a picture of the front of the quilt

If you would like to enter, please leave a springlike quote below or *LIKE* our Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/WaitingForBabyStories 

The first picture shows the small details while the second picture is of the back.

A Grandmother's Story

After trying to conceive for over a year, my daughter and son-in-law visited a fertility specialist, who started them on the long road to having a baby. We often hear about couples undergoing fertility treatment but I really had no idea how arduous the process is. I will not go into the details, but by the time they had gone through all the steps from artificial insemination, to the drug regimens that each step entails, to the complete depletion of their savings, this couple was worn out, physically, emotionally and financially.

Nothing had worked and although they had started the in vitro process with nineteen embryos, none had "taken". Finally, they were down to the last two embryos, and the doctor did not consider these two to be very "good specimens". A couple weeks after the implantation, the pregnancy test came back positive, but this had happened before so everyone was just guardedly optimistic. (Actually, I think my daughter was secretly elated because she went out and bought a darling little baby gown that she hung in the guest room/someday nursery.)

A month or so later, I got the heartbreaking phone call from her. "I am having a miscarriage. Can you fly out?" 

I arrived that night and the atmosphere was grim. The sad little baby gown was still hanging on the back of the door as a pitiful reminder of all of their hopes. They had no more embryos and no more money. We went to the doctor the next morning and he confirmed with an ultrasound that she had indeed miscarried one embryo and the other was small and misshapen, with no heartbeat. He explained that if it did not detach that they would need to do a procedure to clean her out. She replied that she was too emotionally spent to endure doing it that day and that she needed a few days to calm down and to pray. I need to say here that we were not alone in our prayers. People all over the country were joining in praying for them.

When she returned a few days later, she and the doctor decided to do another ultrasound before doing the procedure. He spent a long time looking at the screen, scrutinizing the picture and finally said,"I am seventy years old and I have been a fertility specialist for a long time but I don't think I have ever seen this before. That embryo has doubled in size and it now has a heartbeat! At least for now, you are still pregnant". He did not use the term "miracle" but we did. He sent her home on bed rest for a month.

The pregnancy was scary, with lots of trials and problems. A few months into it, the doctor said that in light of the quality of the embryo and all of the complications, he recommended an amniocentesis. My daughter's answer was,"I believe that this baby is nothing less than a miracle. I will love it whether it is perfect or not. There is nothing an amnio can tell me that would make me terminate the pregnancy, and I don't want to take a chance at hurting it with the test." She later told me that she didn't regard Down's Syndrome as a reason for abortion and that she would be thrilled with whoever her baby was. Of all of us, she had been in the most peaceful frame of mind from the beginning and seemed to be living each day with a sense of peace regarding this child.

We arrived a week before the due date. Her blood pressure was elevated, her body had retained so much water that she could not get shoes on and she felt pretty awful. Her father took one look at her and said,"If that was my patient I would do a c-section today." Two weeks later she was induced but after a long, miserable labor with very little progression, the doctor did a section. I was along for the ride, which was more than a little frightening to the mother in me. Finally, the doctor held up our little Teddy and he was perfect! All ten fingers and toes, squalling and wiggling.

Six months later all is well. She continues to greet each day with gratitude. We were talking the other day as we watched him coo and laugh and my daughter said an interesting thing. "I don't regret any of the miscarriages and failed infertility treatments because I wouldn't have had Teddy without them. I got the baby I was supposed to have."