Disneyland Part 3 - The Opportunity

There are five stages of grief include denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I am fortunate to be able to get through these stages quicker as time goes on. It's an important part living life to the fullest. 


I supposed I should be happy I passed through the stages well before the end of the trip. Having FSH does make one resilient.


I like to think there is a sixth stage which is opportunity. I want to believe something positive can come out of every experience. 


When I look back on the trip, I can only see my nephew's smiling face, his infectious belly laugh and his passion for life. He inspires me every day and reminds me happiness is a simple formula and I am so grateful for that.


The experience made me feel like I made the right decision not trying to raise a child on my own at this stage of my FSH. I am glad I spent the money on this trip because it is a memory I will cherish forever. I am glad he adapted to my circumstances and found ways for us to share our own special things that weren't as physical, I think it will make him a more compassionate person. I am glad to have one more adventure to look back on.


Maybe this experience was like 'dipping a toe in the water' to get a taste of what the next stage of immobility would be like. One thing is for sure, I am getting a sleek, red scooter. If I am going to get one, I better look good in it.

Do you believe in magic?

An odd start to a post, but I thought I would float this idea to you for your ... amusement.

I enjoy a good adventure and often feel like one can make their own epic adventure just by having a good chat with a friend, losing yourself in a book or those 'zen moments' where it is just you and your imagination.

I also get a real kick out of psychics and their visions of the future.

Before you roll your eyes and stop reading, hear me out.

I am not one of those people who would change my life because of what a fortune teller said. I value it more for fun more than anything else. I admit, there is something about someone, particularly a stranger who might be more perceptive then the average person, to tell you something positive about your life. Perhaps saying the right thing at the right moment gives hope when a person needs it most.

It is a dangerous thing though, so not for the easily influenced or faint of heart. But I wanted to share my experience.

I didn't visit my first psychic until five years ago, around the time when I was going through the adoption process, at a cross roads with my career and at the end of a long term relationship. There was a lot going on in my life and I was so curious to hear what this lady, a cuban woman who grew up in the Middle East, saw in the bitter coffee grounds left over after I choked down a few sips of her awful concoction.

She told me vivid stories about seeing me climbing a steep mountain to get to a house at the top. She said I would struggle to get to the top and I would want to give up but I would meet a man with a moustache who would help me finish this journey.

I never met this man, or know of this house, but it is parked in my memory for the future.

She told me I would get the promotion I was up for but then I would lose it very quickly, but my salary would be better. I thought that was odd, but true to form, I got the promotion, was laid off a few months later, got a new position in the same company at more money.

As with all 'visionaries', and I have seen a psychic, clairvoyant and astrologer, they tell me the same thing with my health: I will always have health issues and it is a source of frustration for me, (and sadness for my family) but I was stronger than anyone imagined and I would live a long and happy life. The last two I met, said that through natural healing and yoga, I would see a major improvement until a cure was to be found which would be in a few years.

I had already started yoga and natural medicines, and a few months after that reading, researchers had a few FSH breakthroughs. I was pretty shocked since I had resided to the fact that there was no cure.

They all told me I would never have trouble with work and would always have money. But I would never be rich since I would use all my money on my health and my loneliness. Boy, is that true! It's expensive to have a disability.

And, kids. As I mentioned, I had just started the adoption process. The psychic had a fit when I asked her if I was going to have kids. She said there was no way I was going to have children, not even through adoption. But she said she saw a beautiful child with curly hair who would be my life.

What? That is what I dreamed my daughter would have, bouncy curly hair. I figured she didn't know what she was talking about. But, she insisted that if I would ever be a mother, it would be by marrying someone with a child. (The clairvoyant and astrologer said the same thing, they saw me with kids, but not biologically my own.)

Well, I just ignored them and threw myself into the adoption and being a mom. I was so determined, how could it not happen?

But she was right and as you know from previous posts, the adoption didn't go through. I guess there are some things that are predestined.

The curly haired child? It took my a couple of years to realize it was my nephew, the love of my life.

And as for marrying a man with a child? Funny thing about my new boyfriend ....

But the most interesting thing they all said was that I am supposed to be doing more than what I am doing. That I am holding myself back from something important. They were so adamant about it, but couldn't tell me anything more about it.

I have yet to find out what that is, but I am looking forward to that journey of discovery.

The Blanket - Part Two

It occurred to me at lunch with two dear friends today that I have not completed this post.

In some ways, the world is increasingly becoming a smaller place. It is not uncommon to have many friends, old and new, in various parts of the world. I am fortunate to be able to pick up where things leave off with friends I may only see once or twice a year. As one friend put it, it is like reading a really good book, putting it down for awhile and picking it up to always find another exciting chapter.

Very true.

But it is also seems like a dumping of updates and for me the last year has been filled with so many twists and turns, I feel like I am shooting cannon balls.

Good thing my friends are resilient.

I was asked about the adoption and where I was at. Anyone who has gone through an adoption, or lived through the process with someone knows, international adoption is a long, emotional, process full of red tape and frustration. Throw in being single with a disability and it is even more of a whirlwind.

My process had the usual frustrations, but I was fortunate to have a great social worker. When I started the process it seemed to just go along in the usual manner. I did end up having to switch countries where I was adopting from and I had to adopt a toddler. But, I thought the challenges of having a disability would be easier if the child could walk already.

Who knew it was my own ability to walk that would become the deciding factor .Well really, my ability to run. Which I realized I couldn't do as my two-year old nephew took off one day down the grass hill and onto the road. I was almost paralyzed because all I could do was walk as fast as I could, pray I didn't trip and yell at him to stop. He giggled with delight because he figured I understood his game and was playing along. I was mortified. All I could see was the vision of him being hit by a car and it would be my fault because I couldn't keep him safe.

Before you think I gave up too fast, I never change course until ten things push me off course. That was only one. Fear of being unable to respond quickly, fear of not being able to afford my disability and raising a child, sadness of being the reason my child would have to compromise because of me and on the list went. So much fear and sadness and because I could only feel the infinite love for my nephew, the thought of not being able to keep another I loved as much safe, I made the painful decision to withdraw my application.

I was the next in line for receiving a proposal for a child.

My program manager at the adoption agency was very upset. We had developed a strong bond and this was certainly a tough process with her being a main character. I suppose it takes a special kind of person to dedicate their life to matching children and parents so I shouldn't be surprised she took it that way.

I cried for a long time. I felt like such a failure. I doubted my decision all the time and most of all I doubted my faith. In myself and in God as I had initially wanted to leave the decision in his hands and ultimately, I made the choice to give up.

My daughter was already born. She would have been two or three when I received that proposal. She was alive when I started the process. I felt I knew her. I named her and I saw her in my mind every day. When I made the decision, I felt I abandoned her. Something inside me died.

I let so many people down. My brother and sister in law who were waiting for a niece. My parents who were waiting for another grandchild. My family who was looking forward to adding another jewel to our growing family and my friends who were inspired and wanted me to see my dream fulfilled. And myself - I never imagined in all my life I wouldn't be a mother.

Everyone supported me and my decision. They blamed the system that made me wait for almost five years. But the system couldn't change the FSH. It was progressing along, despite my best intentions.

I gave myself a year to get up off the mat. I'm just short of that and it's still something I don't like to talk about. I guess there are some things you don't get over, you just learn to live with and hope the experience makes you stronger. I know now, as the FSH continues to progress, I made the right decision, but it is still painful.

I am fortunate that I have this amazing nephew who saved me, he is truly my little angel (even though he can knock me over now) and another niece or nephew on the way. I am blessed to have access to them and my friends' kids. It's not so bad being the cool aunt.

The Blanket - Part One

As the new year rings in, I am giddy to spend it not working. Well, not working at my job anyway. Like many people, I chose to take a couple days from my week off to organize my house which seems to attract clutter like a high powered magnet.

Not as easy as it sounds when you can't bend down without the risk of falling over, or get up without help. But I was determined. Not only to organize all the 'good deals' I have picked up in anticipation of 'something' that might come up, but to finally be able to see the floor of my den. In the midst of deciding if I should keep the collection of audio cassettes circa 1980 and cheetah print candles, I came across a soft, delicately woven baby blanket.

I knew it was there. I was hoping not to see it until the end of this cleaning frenzy, hoping to be too tired to think about the blanket and the story behind it.

It was given to me around five years ago by a dear friend of mine. With four grandchildren of her own who brought her copious amounts of joy, she created this loving blanket upon hearing of my decision to adopt a little girl.

For someone with FSH, there are a few topics that are common points of anxiety for both men and women, having children is one of them. Having them or not, testing them or not, telling them or not. It took several years of anxiety, analysis and emotional pinball for me and those around me and it was the reason for the end of several relationships.

My own feelings evolved from, "I am going to leave this to God's will" to "I can't put a child through this" to "I can't put myself through this" and "I can't keep my child safe".

I went from the idea of a natural pregnancy, to an IVF pregnancy with PGD testing, to surrogacy - foreign and domestic, to adoption - foreign and domestic and finally to not being a mother at all.

This will be by far the hardest post I will write since it is has been the hardest part of my journey.