You know what hope is?
Hope is a bastard.
Hope is a liar,
A cheat and a tease.
Hope comes near you
Kick its backside.
Got no place in days like these.
--Ben Folds/Nick Hornby "Picture Window"
The first time I was pregnant, I spent my evenings and weekends exploring baby names, walking around Target admiring baby stuff, reading pregnancy books... I even read part of a book about newborns. And then our hopes were dashed.
I spent the next few months reading miscarriage statistics. And my hope grew back. The miscarriage was just bad luck. It wouldn't happen again. We were careful not to hope too much for the second pregnancy, especially when I failed to develop any pregnancy symptoms. Nevertheless, the second miscarriage was such a letdown. I spent a miserable summer crying behind sunglasses.
And yet, I still read the miscarriage statistics. It was unlikely to happen a third time. I tried so hard not to allow myself to hope that things would work out for Carlos. I didn't read the pregnancy books. I only looked online to see Carlos's weekly development once. I have still never bought any baby items; in fact, we avoided Target altogether. Even after the heartbeat, I hardly let myself think about the second trimester. (At nine weeks, I finally ordered a pregnancy yoga DVD and a belly band, which were delivered to my office on Friday and are waiting for my arrival tomorrow, yay.)
But hope is in my nature. Despite the two miscarriages and summer of despair, I really believed in the back of my mind that our fertility problems thus far had been a fluke. I wrote my Confessions of an infertile fraud because I thought you would all soon discover that the only thing wrong with me was that I was overdramatic. The third pregnancy would be easy, and I would gracefully exit the world of infertility with wonderful new friends and a greater sensitivity and appreciation for the miracle of pregnancy.
I was wrong. While no one has to "earn" the right to use the word infertile, I comfortably feel like I'm no longer an infertile fraud. So now what? Luckily mrohkay and I are on the same page. As I've blogged about before, we extensively discussed adoption if our third pregnancy didn't work out. We're not rushing into anything now, but we both still feel the same way. We haven't entirely ruled out trying pregnancy again in a few years (and I'm well aware that waiting for my eggs to get older isn't the ideal way to improve my recurrent pregnancy loss). But right now we are more interested in having a baby than we are in making a baby. It doesn't feel like giving up; it just feels like switching tactics.
I'm obviously going to be grieving this loss for awhile. (I spent the entire church service in tears this morning.) But I'm already hopeful to start a new path. Even though it's a path that will also involve waiting and frustration and more tears, it feels right for us. Adoption was always part of our plan, even though it wasn't what we imagined for our first child.
So we're going to explore our options. We have no preference yet for domestic versus international (though we had already narrowed down the international areas we're considering to Central and South America). We've barely scratched the surface in considering agencies. We welcome any advice for "beginner" reading materials.
I cannot thank you all enough for the support you've given me so far. Hope may be a bastard, but I'm hooked.
