Alfonso & Beatrice

I've been a writer almost my entire life. It's only been in the last ten years or so that I fully realized this and claimed the title "writer," but if my parents are to be trusted, then I've been creating stories since I was four years old.

We would go over to our friends, the Millers, after church and after lunch Alison and I would put on small plays to entertain our folks. Alison's little sister, Lauren, would try to get involved but Alison would always kick her off stage -- or so our parents say. Since the three of us can't remember this at all, they're either making it up or we've successfully forced ourselves to forget these so-called productions.

In grade school I started writing skits for my friends and I to perform for the class. This stage continued through

high school and into college, when I enrolled in film school with the hopes of being the next big writer/director. I've written several films since then, at least one full-length play, and numerous short films and web series.

So it really comes as no surprise to me that I've gone and written a children's book. Most of my work comes from a desire to see a particular story told and not being able to find that story anywhere. I end up being the one to tell the story -- which I don't mind at all, it just takes me out of the audience.

But as Kelly and I began looking for children's books that were about adoption or featured an adopted child as the hero or, really, did anything to help an adopted child feel more special or more loved, we found our choices very limited.

That's not to say that those books aren't out there. They are. We have found some wonderful books and added them to our library. But I want more. There needs to be more. So during our rotten, no-good, awful week a couple of weeks ago, I wrote one.

It is tentatively titled Alfonso & Beatrice (and The Mermaid Princess) and it's about a young king and queen who search far and wide for the one thing that is missing from their life. I won't spoil the journey for you just yet, but these two give up just about everything in order for them to find their little one. It's a little silly, a little romantic, a little adventurous, and completely from the heart.

With a first draft completed, I needed an illustrator. What good is a children's book without lavish pictures? I can barely draw stick figures, so I put a call out to Facebook and fellow Whovian Don Krouskop put me in touch with Beth Maurer, who is currently hard at work illustrating the story for me. She took my words and transformed them into pictures that, if I walked past them in a book store, I would not only give a second glance at them, I would have to pick them up and give them close inspection (but don't take my word for it, check out these character designs she's all ready sent me). Together, I'm not too ashamed to say, I think we're going to make something really special. And when we're done, we're going to try to get into as many hands as possible.

I don't know how, just yet. We may try to shop it around to various publishing companies and see if anyone's interested, or we may just sell it ourself (via our friend the Internet). But as our work progresses, I'll keep you all informed.

You have all been so supportive. Kelly and I started this blog with the hope of reaching out to others and maybe letting them know that they're not alone. Instead, it seems the inverse happened. Your kind words, messages, letters, phone calls and hugs have been more appreciated than you'll ever know and I wanted to share this exciting little endeavor with you, just as a way of saying "thanks" and "good things are on the horizon!"

-=S

The Plumbing is Not Working

It has been a tough week. This weekend every time we did laundry the water gurgled up into our shower. We decided not to panic or call someone immediately. It could wait until after the weekend; after all it was Fourth-of-July weekend. Then on July 4 we started seeing toilet paper come up into the shower. That crossed the line. On Tuesday we had someone come snake the pipes in the house. No problems there. Turns out, the problem was between the house and the street where the city sewer runs. We needed a new sewer line. Our vintage (circa 1949) clay pipe was crushed and filled with roots. Time for an upgrade. Our good friends got one of those last autumn; we knew what kind of cost to expect. High. Like $5000 high. That figure kind of kicks you in the stomach, doesn’t it?

This came right on the tail of some other tough news. Last month we decided to try the IUI route – more about that surreal process in a later post – and it did not work. This past month was one that included a lot more immediate hope than we had felt in a long time.

There was a time when we first started “trying” when we eagerly awaited the end of my cycle to see if we were pregnant. Then there was a time when we counted the days to ovulation and then endured the two week wait between ovulation and the disappointing start of menstruation. Then somewhere along the way we stopped counting. We settled in for a longer wait.

But IUI, that gave us some hope. Not that we didn’t have hope that someday we will have our family. More like “hey this may finally just work. It may take both of us AND a medical staff of 6, but hey, maybe this can actually happen.” The doctor’s office staff was very positive and optimistic. It was catching. I tried to not get my hopes up. To expect it not to work. But secretly I hoped it would. Of course, why would we even spend the time and money to do it if we didn’t think there was some chance it would work? I did acupuncture to support the process. I took it easy; no heavy lifting or yard work for me. I was going to be the perfect host for that egg turned embryo.

We got the news Tuesday afternoon that the pregnancy test was negative, again. Then that night we got the news that the plumbing was not working and needed to be replaced. (The house’s plumbing, that is. Not my plumbing. My plumbing supposedly works fine. And let’s just say the doctor was very proud of Scott’s contribution to the IUI process.) It was a hard night. I might not have cried like I did except the thought of our savings getting buried (literally) in the front yard just pushed me over the edge. That money is the money that we’ve been saving for the adoption. So it felt like twice in one day I had gotten the news that we would not be having, or getting, a baby.

Things looked better the next day. Most things do after a good night’s sleep. We met with the contractor and his estimate was a much lower than expected – which doesn’t dent our savings as badly as we had dreaded. And now that the indoor plumbing is working as it should, things are looking up. We have wonderful friends and family who have done and said just the right things this week: “That sucks.” “Heard you had a bad day.” “If you need anything let me know.” “Let’s go get ice cream." (which is totally awesome!)

I am reminded that God blesses even as this world tries to take our hope for the future. Not only did we have the money available to cover the unexpected cost of a new sewer line, but our dedicated family had connections with someone who could get the work done quickly. The IUI didn't work, but I am in a place where I kind of feel like it was something that needed to be tried and now we can move on to the next thing, whatever that may be. I want to praise God for taking care of us and surrounding us with the support we need as we walk this path as homeowners AND as potential parents. I am again reminded that God has a plan for our lives.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. - Hebrews 11:1.

--K

Reproductively Challenged

I want to first of all say that God sends blessings to us in ways we never think are possible. As a bit of background, I have been the Women’s Ministry director at our church for the past two years. I have struggled with finding something unique that I could add to the many things our church already does for the members and the community. There are many groups under the Women’s Ministry umbrella that were there before I started and function completely independent of me and my meager budget. Some groups even had their own budgets. I spent many hours trying to figure out what group or event I could plan that someone like me would attend. I’m busy with a husband, friends, family and full-time work. What kind of event would I be willing to drive the 20 minutes out to the church to attend?

It took me a good 18 months to admit that the word infertility applied to us. It took another 3 months of God’s nagging (there has to be a better word) to get me to start the support group that our community needs. I figured that Scott and I were not the only ones who are going through this, but Satan uses isolation, fear, and shame to beat us down and keep us from living the lives God has called us to lead. Our small group, called Third Thursdays, is now 4 months old. I am so blessed to have a group of women who know exactly how I feel. They know the answers to some of my questions. They feel the same longing that I feel and they can articulate it way better than I can. It is good to know that I am not alone. It is also very cool to think that God used me to help these other ladies, even if I add nothing to the mix and they help each other. God is so good.

I continue to be impressed with these women’s resiliency and hope. We share a lot of hard things, but we also share a lot of laughter. I want to share with you a list of things we, the reproductively challenged, want to ban from the general discussion all together. We compiled this list while laughing, but there are some things people say, with all good intentions, which are not helpful and can even be hurtful. Some of these have been said to me and some are things others have heard.

10 Things that the Adopting or Reproductively Challenged Couple Probably Doesn’t Want to Hear

1. “Just get drunk, you’ll get pregnant.”
2. “Try going on vacation.”
3. “You’re young, you have plenty of time.”
4. So many people are getting pregnant. “It must be in the water!”
5. “Just take my kids for the night, and then you’ll never want kids again.”
6. “Just relax, when you stop thinking about it, it will happen.” Fact: Stress is not a significant cause of infertility.
7. Any complaints about how miserable you are with your pregnancy. You may be uncomfortable, but please count those symptoms or annoyances as opportunities to be thankful for your pregnancy.
8. For those who are adopting – “Are you just giving up on having your own baby?” Or “Don’t you want your OWN baby?”
9. “As soon as you adopt you will have one of your own. Chuckle, chuckle.” We know that you may be uncomfortable and not know what to say. But, please don’t say this. The fact is the number of infertile people who get pregnant after pursuing adoption is the same number of infertile people who get pregnant after ending fertility treatments. 5-12% maybe, if the internet can be trusted. The factor of deciding to adopt or adopting a child is not relevant. And who knows, maybe those who conceived after adopting did not have fertility problems to begin with.
10. “Maybe God is punishing you for something. Have you confessed your sins?”

It was cathartic for us to make this list. I share this with you to help us all make the world a better, more sensitive place. This blog has had 2475 page views, 261 of those in June alone. Now, that may just be my mom and one of our good friends in Scotland, but I am guessing not. Our readers include someone (or people) in Canada, Russia, Ireland, Thailand, Taiwan, Germany, Malaysia, India and Iran. Scott and I hope that our openness can help someone else who may be experiencing something similar.

If you know someone who is reproductively challenged, the best thing to say may be, "I'm sorry you're going through this. I know it's difficult, and I hope things work out for you. Let me know if there's anything I can do." If you are reproductively challenged yourself, we offer that to you.

--K

BOOK REPORT: Freakanomics and Cinderella Ate My Daughter

Freakanomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner and Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein. I’m not sure how many people would put these two books together and on top of that call them both must-read parenting books, but I would and I do. These books came highly recommended after a very interesting debate with some beloved friends. I feel a bit smarter for having read both.

The first is a collaboration between a journalist and an economist. Levitt and Dubner take on issues (among others) such as “Does what you name your child affect his success in life?” “Does the number of books in your home help your child be more successful?” The answer to both turns out to be a surprising “No.” Both are actually indicators (rather than causes) of a child’s socioeconomic status which plays a bigger role than many other factors in a child’s future success. I’m sure the writers did not intend this to be a parenting book, but it presents answers to many issues that parents will care about and actually may make parenting a bit less stressful. BTW, I know I must be the last person in the world to read this book since it came out in 2005.

In the second, Orenstein confronts the princess and pink culture created for girls by juggernaut Disney and others out to market their goods to your daughters. The most interesting part of this book is when she takes a break from hating on Disney, Nickelodeon and Mattel to really explore the reasons (aside from nearly 24/7 marketing campaigns) that girls are so drawn to the whole pretty-pretty-princess thing. Turns out it may have more to do with a developmental period around ages 3-6 when girls (and boys) are trying to understand the permanence of gender, rather than the hypothesis that girls just like pink. She cites studies that are investigating the natural differences between boys and girls. She discusses how same- and cross- gender play helps children develop. I would have liked her to spend more time on discussion of self-esteem development despite the influences of our consumer culture, but maybe she covered that in her first book Schoolgirls.

The book appears thoroughly researched with quite the bibliography, but reads like it was written by an intelligent women who has been driven slightly mad by too many hours of the Disney Channel. The tone of the book fluctuates from militaristic feminist to rational discussion. Feels like it was written fast and not really edited for consistency of tone. But it was good enough that I read it in less than a week, and I would be willing read more of her work.

Neither book is written by a psychologist, but rather by journalists examining problems they see in the world. I feel like Orenstein’s book may be making a mountain out of a mole hill, while Freakanomics does just the opposite.

--K

Conversations

Last month’s 1-hour talk with the doctor has sparked hours of conversation, hours of thought and maybe a few tears. The doctor told us there was no reason we should not have already had a baby or at least a pregnancy. All the 2000 parts are in working order. Whew. Good news there. I guess. I had kind of hoped that there was some one small thing wrong that we could correct. Maybe hair color? The doc said redheads have a higher propensity of endometriosis. But I am not a natural redhead. If it helps through, I could be a blonde again. Or even a brunette (gasp). Nope. Nothing so simple, because there is nothing wrong.

He gave us two options. IVF and IUI. These options were no surprise. After all Scott used to work there. We know the services they sell. We’ve considered both. IVF is cost prohibitive for us. More importantly we feel called to spend that kind of money adopting a child who is already here. A child who needs our home. IVF may be for some people. Not us. Not right now.

IUI. That is a different story entirely. With insurance and our medical savings account the cost is not so intimidating. The treatment is not so invasive. We’ve decided to do it in the future. But we are not going to tell you when. We don’t want to get your hopes up; because the success rate is low. We don’t want to get our hopes up either. We don’t really want to be disappointed again.

More than 2 years ago we had a positive pregnancy test. We had an OB appointment. But we didn’t have the little flutter on the ultrasound that is a heartbeat. We had gotten excited and told our parents and friends too early. We learned that good news spreads fast, but the bad news does not disseminate so easily or quickly. It is no fun to meet acquaintances who expect you to be 6 months pregnant when you aren’t. The conversation is awkward.

We lay in bed and talked about sharing this with you, the entire world. Scott reminded me of our commitment to being honest about this journey. To crafting a blog that documents the real emotions, the good, the bad, and the vulnerable, of infertility, adoption and building a family. I reminded him about the raw hurt of having to answer follow-up questions from our well-meaning community of friends and family. So here I am writing it, because he is right. The Next Chapter is incomplete if we don’t put it all out there.

Please trust that we will let you know if it is successful. But it will be in our own time. If you don’t hear from us about it in 6 months, you can guess that it probably didn’t work. But maybe, for our sake, please don’t ask.

IUI doesn’t mean that we don’t want to adopt or that we are putting that process on hold. It just means that we are exploring our options for having a biological child. If it works, great. If it works AND we get the call for a baby to adopt, fantastic. Then there will be two (“If we have two, it will be fantastic,” Scott just said over my shoulder, “because then we’ll be four. The Fantastic Four.”).

So in conclusion, we believe in family, in community, in honesty. We believe that we can’t be the only ones going through this. So as hard as it is, as tough as it is to be vulnerable, we are committed to allowing you to be part of this journey. All we ask is that you give us your prayers and well-wishes rather than ask the follow-up question that we may not be ready to answer. Don’t worry we will let you know…

--K

The Weirdness

It was weird the first time we said it out loud. Before we said it out loud, it was just a nagging question in the back of our heads, "why aren't we getting pregnant?" We would talk about it, but in talking about it, we would never name it. We would talk about ovulation, we would discuss theories and what "some people say," but we never named it. When we finally did, it was supremely weird.

Infertility.

It belongs to those set of words that don't ever apply to you. They belong to someone else. Other people have their house broken into, not me. Other people get mugged, not me. Other people overdose, not me. Other people are molested, not me. Other people are raped, not me. Other people are diabetic, not me. Other people run into celebrities, not me. But . . . apparently . . . other people get pregnant, not us.

I must stop this blog right here and now to say we do not hold that against anybody. While every pregnancy announcement is tinged in just a bit of sadness and jealousy on our part, we have nothing but joy and excitement for you. Please do not feel bad for us. We can't do anything with your pity so please, don't waste yours on us. I actually had someone apologize to me recently because she was pregnant and we still weren't. Please, please, do not apologize. You have nothing to feel bad about. The point of this blog is not to throw a pity party for the Foggs. It is to chronicle our journey through particular point in our life, to let people know what's going on, and (hopefully) let others know that they're not alone.

Now where was I? Ah yes. The weirdness.

It was weird when we first said the "I" word. It was weird when we admitted it to our parents. It was weird the first time we told our friends. But the weirdness has abated. It's just life now. It's just a part of who we are. It's not something we think about on an hourly basis (I'd like to say it's not something we don't think about on a daily basis, but that's just not true). Every once in a while, though, the weirdness is brought back up and rubbed in our faces. Today was one of those days.

We went to The Fertility Center today. It wasn't weird that I used to work there. It wasn't weird that I still know people who work there. It was weird being somewhere where everyone knows what's wrong with you. If I'm at work, I'm just that friendly, bald, video game guy. If I'm with my friends, I'm the loud one in the corner who won't shut up about Doctor Who. But to the receptionist, the delivery man, and all the other patients in the waiting room, I'm something or someone just a little bit broken. I'm someone who desperately wants something he can't have. I'm someone who's most intimate, personal part of him isn't working. And while the doctors say there's nothing wrong with either of us, we're still in the waiting room, stuck in the dream where you walk into work naked.

I try to pretend it isn't weird, but it's weird. It's not as weird as these psychotic and sad people, but it's weird.

I'm looking forward to an unweird life. This experience has forever marked us, though. We'll always be that couple. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with telling our story. I'm okay with answering questions. I'd like to hear other people's stories. But nothing will ever cure this weirdness -- nothing, I imagine, but the closing of this chapter and the start of the next one.

-=S

Third Thursday

Thursday is not my favorite day of the week. I’ll admit it. I may be prejudice against it, but I am not a fan of Thursdays. Thursday for me is like everyone else’s Monday. If I am going to be inexplicably running late, it will be Thursday. If I am running late AND have an 8:30 am meeting, it will be Thursday. It started back when I worked at summer camp. Thursday evenings were staff social night and for some reason I would usually get thrown in the pool fully dressed by my then boyfriend (current husband). There is just something about Thursday that has not sat right with me ever since.

So in an effort to brighten my outlook on the day, I picked Thursday to be the day for my church group to meet. You know, something to look forward to. A pre-weekend bright spot.

This blog has, so far, focused on our adoption journey. The missing piece has been: why we are pursuing adoption now? Scott and I have always talked about having a child and then adopting our second child. That was the plan at least. After two years of “trying” and six months of Clomid treatments (not fun) we have been unable to conceive. It has been a bittersweet two years. We have watched our friends, co-workers, and distant acquaintances conceive and have babies. We’ve been blessed to be part of the miraculous arrivals of our new “niece” and “nephews.” It is touching to be so close with people that you are invited to meet their child when he/she is only hours old. It has also been sad for us to watch from the sidelines.

Infertility. It is a word I have avoided. And I am the one who argues that words only have power if you let them. Well I have let it intimidate me. It is a lonely place because you don’t really want to talk about it, no one else does either. You feel like you must be the only one. When I pause to think rationally though, I know that I am not the only one. I can’t be. If I am hurting and feeling this sense of loss (can you miss something you never had?) there are other people who are feeling this too.

So I finally built up the courage to do what God has been calling me to do for some time: Start a support group for women experiencing infertility and pregnancy loss. It is a small, slowly growing group. It feels good to reach out to someone else. So, on the third Thursday of each month at 7pm you will find me with a small group in an upstairs room of the Collegedale Community Church, making someone’s Thursday a little better. Maybe even my own.