Life lessons from Adam Sandler

The two week wait -- or 2ww in fertility jargon -- is familiar to anyone trying to conceive. The days drag by while you spend your time inspecting toilet paper for elusive implantation bleeding, poking yourself in the chest to check for tenderness, and wildly alternating between hope and despair.

The long-term trying to conceive, or, in my new adoption-friendly jargon, TTOB -- trying to obtain baby -- requires a different kind of patience. We've been TTOB for over two years, and many of you have been waiting years longer. How do you cope when your 2ww has morphed into a 2yw?

I've been reminded lately of the movie Click. (If you need a spoiler alert for a just-okay movie released five years ago, this is it.) The gist: the main character, played by Adam Sandler, obtains a remote control that he can use to operate his life. He fast-forwards through parts of his life -- boring parts, sicknesses, all things unpleasant. The remote control learns his preferences; suddenly it's years later and he hasn't experienced anything.

If I'd had the option to skip my two (plus) year wait, I would have been sorely tempted. It's been miserable and it's not over (though at least I don't expect to have any more miscarriages on this leg of Journey to Baby #1). But then I consider all the times I've said, "If I can just get through [fill in the blank]." This semester. This project at work. This boring-ass conference that makes me want to stab myself with a Marriott ink pen. I'm always "just getting through" something.

I'm forcing a shift in perspective. I don't want to take a single minute that I have with mrohkay for granted. Trying to live life to the fullest isn't easy when I feel locked in babyless limbo while the rest of the world moves on. But I'm trying.

And so begins what I've dubbed "The summer of fun!!" (Two exclamation points so you know I'm serious.) mrohkay will be completing his master's degree in one week, which will mark the first time in our six years together that one of us wasn't in school or studying for the bar exam. We're finally going to start doing some of the things we've been talking about forever.

• watch a roller derby bout (check)
• paint the nursery (in progress)
• walk to our neighborhood frozen custard store (check and check... and, you caught me, check)
• attend a music festival
• visit one of our city's rooftop bars
• vacation in the Pacific Northwest
• take walks by the lake
• plan for the "Fall of fun!!" and the "Winter of fun!!"

I hope this plan of action will make the rest of my 2+yw feel not just tolerable -- but worthwhile.

Can't help but hope

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.

And now for something completely different

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of my maudlin blogs.* So I'm going to post a list of things currently making me happy.

1. Walking through the crunchy yellow-brown leaves on the sidewalk outside my condo.

2. The new Ben Folds album. Especially the song Levi Johnston's Blues. Hilarious and catchy.

3. When mrohkay says "Hey guys!" ('cause I'm two people right now, heh).

4. Donuts.

5. Sweater weather.

6. My favorite band (The Dresden Dolls), who I've never seen in concert before, reunited for a tour and I'm going to see them next month.

7. It looks like (fingers crossed) I'm actually going to meet my billable hour requirement this year at work.

8. Politics. Even though I don't like my choices for Gov or Senator, and the party I support is going to lose both.

9. Our new couch and loveseat.

10. #hope.

*I've been having this vocabulary problem lately where I can only think of the unusual word for what I'm trying to say but cannot for the life of me think of a normal word that means the same thing. I think it's a product of too much reading as a child and not enough TV. Parents and future parents, take note.