The Blanket - Part Three

Hoping this is the last post under The Blanket series of posts.

Today I welcomed my niece into the world. She is beautiful and entered with so much sweetness and charm. A friend told me she believes cute babies are nature's way of encouraging people to keep the population going. This little one will do that for sure.

Overdue, she emerged far less scrunchy than some kids. My nephew enjoyed meeting his new sister and I hope they find new adventures together and that I will be a part of them.

As I left for the hospital, I knew there was something I had to take to my niece. The blanket my friend had made for me when I started my adoption process more than five years ago. If you have read my Blanket posts, you will know what this blanket symbolizes.

It felt like it it was meant for her, by the same destiny that refused me to have my own daughter. I am trying to reconcile this in my mind. Why some things are meant for some and not for others. But I guess there are many answers to that question, none of which are good enough at a time of emotion.

I gently covered this little princess in the blanket. The soft, cuddly blanket knitted with so much kindness for me. At least I could pass along that same kindness and love to my niece. I hope with this, I can get some kind of closure for that part of my life.

I feel selfish knowing I will never experience that joy and pray that the joy I will get as an aunt will be enough.

(by the way, this picture is not my niece, but a cutie just the same)

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.