Five Years Ago

Five years ago

I had a dream

Another baby for our family

Fairly simple, you would think

I knew I was lucky

To have the one I was blessed with

But I wanted another

To fill my nest with

Quite early on

It was plain to see

That it might not happen

It became my life tragedy

But most people out there

Didn't get my pain

Meanwhile so many other women

Added children to their clan

I tried so many things

But nothing worked

Acupuncture and herbs

Fertility drugs - the works

Next we went through

The trials of the adoption process

Medical and police checks

And several interrogations

Adoption in this country

Doesn't happen much these days

It's an unlikely scenario

Our hopes could all be in vain

My daughter wants a sibling

And asks most weeks

For a sister or a brother

To play with in our street

Pregnant bellies

Are still hard to see

So are siblings playing together

And women with more kids than me

"Be grateful for the one you have"

I hear them say

Because somehow wanting two children

Is a form of shame

"Think of those

Who are worse off than you"

Well I know I am blessed

But I'm entitled to dreams too

Five Years On

It's now five years since we started the quest to add to our family. Our daughter was just eighteen months old when this journey started. Because I'd had a c-section, I was advised not to start trying for a second child too early on. But I'd been forewarned by the obstertician who delivered our daughter, that because I'd lost an ovary at the same time, that early menopause might be a possibility so I was urged to not leave it too late. I was 38 years old.

I knew my age was "up there" yet I had several friends and acquaintances who conceived at the same age - and even older. I did conceive pretty fast - only for it to end in an early miscarriage. I had a sinking feeling that this was the last pregnancy I would ever have.

Shortly afterwards it was clear there were issues with my fertility. Deep down I knew it was serious. Yet I thought I could conquer this thing called secondary infertility and somehow find the magic formula to make my body do what I desperately wanted it to do. I tried everything. I tried alternative therapies - acupuncture and a herbalist. I was told it was stress, it was normal, and that my wonky cycles could be fixed. I trusted, I hoped, I prayed.

But I wasn't getting any younger and time was running out so I stepped it up a notch and got medical help. I was prescribed clomid which didn't work, followed by an operation to remove a cyst that was meant to improve my fertility. Once again I trusted, I hoped, I prayed. When this didn't work I was referred to a specialist.

About this time we started going through the adoption process. I knew that the specialist wasn't able to help me so held off on going to an appointment for a while. Blood tests, my own research and monitoring as well a gut instinct all led to the painful revealation that I was indeed going through early menopause. I was so far gone that not even IVF was an option - not with my own eggs anyway.

When I finally went to a specialist for closure more than anything, my self-diagnosis was confirmed. Donor egg was the only way I could experience a pregnancy ever again.

As we had already gone down the adoption route, the donor egg option didn't come into it. I knew that this was our last chance to add a child from birth into our family and I just didn't have any further energy to explore any other alternatives.

It took us almost two years to go through the adoption process. It was intense and we chose to put things on hold for several months as the leap from biological to adoptive child is big for many, and it was for us.

There is a small chance that an addition to our family could still happen as we are currently waiting in the pool of prospective adoptive parents. Our file expires in April next year and although we could renew it, we have chosen not to. Fostering is a possible option but we don't know yet whether or not that is the right fit for our family. Time will tell.

Our daughter is now six and a half years old.

In the last five years our daughter has started and finished Kindergarten, and has almost been at school for two years. We've bought a house. I've changed jobs. Twice. Our cat died that we had for several years And we now have new pets - a kitten and a dog.

We've travelled to Australia, to the North Island several times and have had four Christmases.

I've changed my hairstyle several times, lost weight, put in on again, lost it again - and so on.

Externally family-life has altered several times. But the desire to have another child has not.

I've no idea how many pregnancies and births I've heard about in the last five years but there have been many. If I could have a coin for every birth announcement in the last five years, well I'd perhaps not be rich, but I may have enough for a good meal out!

Secondary infertility has been the strangest, loneliest and most maddening journey of my life to go through. How many times I wished I was happy with just one child over the last five years, I can't say. But I have certainly prayed and willed my very deep-set desire to go away. Although I have been unable to see that it was all for the best, I have after all this time ever-so-slowly started to embrace my fate.

Well-meaning comments over the last five years have centred around the dreaded "Be grateful for the one you've got." and "Perhaps it's for the best." (Our only child is autistic).

The thing with secondary infertility, is you learn pretty fast that the child that did come to you is an incredible blessing. Knowing I will probably only get to go through all the milestones and ages and stages once, has been bittersweet. It is like saying goodbye to the child that is changing before my eyes while at the same time grieving the child that was meant to follow in her footsteps.

I have slowly been letting go of these wasted years over the last few months. In mind, body and soul it was time to move on. Five years has been too long for me to live a life on hold. With a child in the mix who desperately wants a sibling, it is hard to accept it may be just her. But adoptions are rare in this country and the reality is it is more likely to not work out, than happen.

I'm looking forward to April next year as the waiting game will finally be over.

It has been tiring. I'm ready for something new and ready to let go of a dream I held on to for a very long time. The thing is, five years on it is still there. It is a dream that I suspect will linger for the rest of my life.

The End Of An Era

So I've been selling and giving away our under five gear over the last month or so. Several items are on TradeMe (NZ online secondhand selling and buying site). I've sold our buggy and our booster seat so far. I have to say I burst into tears once the buggy left. My daughter used it for a good five years and there was of course a lot of history with that buggy - numerous walks on the beach, walks in town, and we took it to Australia for a family trip when our daughter was 11 months old. For so long I had hoped another baby would get to use it and that when my daughter was at school, I'd be wheeling her sibling home after dropping her off. That of course didn't happen.

I gave an electronic baby gym we were given to Amelia's teacher who has a three month old. He was pleased with it and I was happy to give it to a good home.

If I can't sell the rest of the gear or find homes for it within the next couple of weeks, then I guess I will just take it all to an op shop. I could have done that to begin with but I like to take my time processing things and letting go of all this under five gear has been quite emotional.

But at the same time, the feeling still sits very clearly with me, that this is the right thing for us to be doing. It really is time to let it all go. There is something powerful in letting go.

I ended up having a lovely 43rd birthday, despite having laryngitis. I wasn't well but had a nice day with my husband including a relaxed lunch out at a cafe followed by cupcakes at our place. We had fish and chips for tea followed by more cupcakes with our daughter. I felt at peace that day - and free from SIF. Free from living with a broken dream. It really does feel as though the sky is looking blue again.

Yet despite my more contented state of late, I seem to have had a couple of weeks where pregnancies have been thrown in my face. And through lovely, lovely women who of course deserve to have babies. But it's always hard to hear about babies that were "accidents" or who were unplanned as I always feel old and inadequate. I cannot help but feel envious and probably always will when I hear about a pregnancy.

There is a terrible "joke" going around Facebook right now within New Zealand for Breast Cancer Awareness - females get forwarded a message from female contacts and basically it consists of two lists that match your birthday month and birthday date. You have to choose from the list the matching numbers and fill in the following with "I am _ weeks and craving_." Hmmm. One of my friends did it and the joke (?) is, males aren't meant to know what it's all about and just read the status. So my husband saw it and yelled out Is such and such pregnant?! I read it and assumed this friend of mine was and felt so hurt and angry that she'd announced her pregnancy like this - without telling me - only later to find out it was a joke....So not funny and so not a cool way to raise awareness for what is meant to be a good cause. I don't think so, anyway.

I found out one of my good friends had a miscarriage recently - with her second child. She went through primary infertility and has been through a lot already. Despite our history and closeness around so many topics; somehow it isn't quite there around infertility. It is interesting how taboo infertility actually is - even between good friends! I was surprised to hear she'd miscarried a few months back. She cried on the phone and shared how much she wants another baby. At least I was able to say that it is so, so natural to want another sibling for your child. Because it is.

It has been an interesting process adopting a dog who is seven years old and comes with a lot of history - some we know about, some we don't. We've had her for a month and at first she was quiet. Pretty settled, but quiet. But now her true colours are coming out and she barks and is cheeky - even friends have noticed that she is happier. She must miss her previous owners and was probably wondering what was going on at first.

After just a week of having her, it was obvious she had some issues with one of her legs so I got that checked out with the vet. We were told she has a torn knee which will one day get worse. When the time comes, we will have to make a very hard decision. Her previous owners emailed me not long after I got the news so I passed it on. We exchanged a few emails and I know they were sad about the prognosis as are we. They loved their dog a lot but weren't about to keep her with their new lifestyle. (living in a motorhome).

Being in touch with our dog's previous owners and going through this whole dog adoption has of course been uncanningly like going through an adoption for a human child. It has in fact changed my perspective around the relationship between birth and adoptive families.

When one of the previous owners dropped their dog off to us for the last time, I gave her a hug and said she was welcome to be in touch as much as she wanted and that I'd leave it up to her. It feels so right and natural that we have an open adoption with this dog. If anything bad happened to her, I would tell the previous owners. Somehow I have been given a lesson about ownership. This dog isn't one hundred percent ours. She lives with us now but she has a past.

Our profile needs to be updated - my husband has been in his new job for a while and we now have a dog - and now, I'm just processing my thoughts around contact with the birth family with an open adoption. Perhaps we have the capacity to be more open than we thought. God is helping me with this one so I am just sitting on it and will update our profile all in one go when the time is right.

One morning recently my husband and I woke up early - somehow before our daughter, kitten and dog! - and talked about fostering. I guess once we get to April next year we will reassess things. I can't do this again - this waiting in the pool of prospective adoptive parents. I don't want to reapply to be prospective adoptive parents when our time runs out. But fostering is possibility. Maybe.

We think we couldn't take on a child older than our daughter as she is our firstborn and also would be influenced by any behavioural challenges an older child may have. A toddler also wouldn't work as that is the age group our daughter struggles with the most - it would be different if a baby came into our home and grew up but to just bring a toddler into the mix is asking for trouble! So we agree it would have to be a child that was around four or five years old.

I guess I would be interested in going through the fostering programme next year if an adoption doesn't happen for us, just to hear more about it. There are all kinds of fostering - respite, short-term, long-term - and for life. I'm not sure if any of them would be the right fit for us. But I guess we've gone this far that we may as well look into fostering as well if it comes to that.

I can't imagine a baby in our homes anymore. It feels as though that ship has sailed. But we have a spare room and lots of love to give and space in our family - it just seems fostering is something we ought to at least consider.