Resiliancy

I've been working hard to build my resiliancy so that I am prepared for the road ahead of us. I think that I am generally a happy positive person. I like to have fun, I smile a lot, I try to always see the best in people. I've had periods of my life where anxiety and depression took over, but I've always bounced back. 

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines resilience as:

1 : the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress2 : an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change

I've always thought about resiliancy being like a rubber band that is stretched but then snaps back to normal. The thing is that its hard to snap back when other things keep stretching me, and the things that are stretching me are changing my original shape. It also feels like rather than an acute 'snap', it is a long slow process. I am resilient, but it has become a constant state of being that requires my constant attention. 

Mayo Clinic's website lists the following tips to improve resilience. 

Working on your mental well-being is just as important as working on your physical health. If you want to strengthen your resilience, try these tips:

• Get connected. Build strong, positive relationships with family and friends, who provide support and acceptance. Volunteer, get involved in your community, or join a faith or spiritual community.

• Find meaning. Develop a sense of purpose for your life. Having something meaningful to focus on can help you share emotions, feel gratitude and experience an enhanced sense of well-being.
• Start laughing. Finding humor in stressful situations doesn't mean you're in denial. Humor is a helpful coping mechanism. If you can't find any humor in a situation, turn to other sources for a laugh, such as a funny book or movie.
• Learn from experience. Think back on how you've coped with hardships in the past. Build on skills and strategies that helped you through the rough times, and don't repeat those that didn't help.
• Remain hopeful. You can't change what's happened in the past, but you can always look toward the future. Find something in each day that signals a change for the better. Expect good results.
• Take care of yourself. Tend to your own needs and feelings, both physically and emotionally. This includes participating in activities and hobbies you enjoy, exercising regularly, getting plenty of sleep and eating well.
• Keep a journal. Write about your experiences, thoughts and feelings. Journaling can help you experience strong emotions you may otherwise be afraid to unleash. It also can help you see situations in a new way and help you identify patterns in your behavior and reactions.
• Accept and anticipate change. Expecting changes to occur makes it easier to adapt to them, tolerate them and even welcome them. With practice, you can learn to be more flexible and not view change with as much anxiety.
• Work toward a goal. Do something every day that gives you a sense of accomplishment. Even small, everyday goals are important. Having goals helps you look toward the future.
• Take action. Don't just wish your problems would go away or try to ignore them. Instead, figure out what needs to be done, make a plan and take action.
• Maintain perspective. Look at your situation in the larger context of your own life and of the world. Keep a long-term perspective and know that your situation can improve if you actively work at it.
• Practice stress management and relaxation techniques. Restore an inner sense of peace and calm by practicing such stress-management and relaxation techniques as yoga, meditation, deep breathing, visualization, imagery, prayer or muscle relaxation.

I have what I call my Toolkit. All the things that I have in place to support me and help me get through this journey.

• My lover and our communication with each other.
• This blog journal and the wonders of writing.
• My sister, mom, and bestie who know everything and love me so much.
• This online community and the ability to read your stories and know that I am not alone.
• My happy pills.
• My wonderful therapist.
• My emergency happy pills for especially trying times.
• The Resolve group I recently found.
• Nail polish to keep my fingers and toes beautiful.
• Pilates - that I really need to go to more often.
• Permission to cancel any plans at any time for any reason.
• A boss who is supportive and understanding.
• A job that is rewarding and challenging and flexible and has meaning.
• my puppy and kitty who are so soft and cuddly.

I also have so much to be grateful for. So much. No matter how low I feel, I always come back to the many things that I have to be thankful for. And while I think that having that perspective is important, I feel like it is important to experience the feelings that I am having at any point on this journey. There is a balance. The feelings I am having are real and valid, and I want to honor them. However I don't want to take for granted any of the many wonderful things in my life. 

One of the most wonderful things in my life is my bestie. I met her when we were in second grade. Our family moved in to the house next door to her. I 'met' her as she was escaping through her bedroom window. We became best buddies that day and have been besties ever since. I LOVE her and I LOVE her family and they LOVE me. She kept me company yesterday while I wallowed on the couch. Her adorable little daughter flirted with me and offered me so many sweet hugs.  She is a wonderful mom and I love being around her and her babe. I want to tell her about this blog, but I am hesitant to open it up to others in my real life. ML is the only one who reads it, but in the spirit of strengthening my support system, I think it could be a good thing.  I almost told her yesterday, but stopped. What do you think?

For the time being, this someecard says it all:

(check out Katie's post for more postcards, and a good laugh.)

Hot Water

Hot water that comes of of the ground is freakin amazing. I never cease to be fully amazed at the wonders of nature when I discover naturally created hot pools of water inviting me to soak. We’d planned to camp at a hot spring last night. (*at the time of writing - this post had to wait for internet access.)

I dropped the boys (ML and Mr.T) off to take a 60 mile bike ride and spent the next three hours wandering around the cutest little town. The plan was to follow the path that they took and meet up with them at a ranger station. The plan fell apart when the road turned from a paved one to a gravel one. I could see their tire tracks so I figured they persevered to follow the plan. There were a number of forks in the road and I did my best to guess which way to turn. Every so often I’d come across a sign that pointed in the direction of my destination.  I was concerned that I might be lost, and that I was no longer following the path that the boys took, and that no one would know where to come looking for me if something happened, but continued on my way.

And then, after at least an hour of driving and forking, the gravel road was blocked. Totally blocked. A big gravel mound with a few fallen trees. No possible way over or around it. Crap. 

Panic started to set in. Where the fuck was I? Why didn’t they leave me a sign? There was nothing for me to do but back up and go back. I had no idea how to go back, there had been so many forks in the road. I thought that they must have just continued over the roadblock and continued to our agreed upon destination. Even if I did find my way back to where I’d started from it would take me an extra three or four hours to get to the destination on an alternate path. 

I looked at the clock. It was already 8pm. It was going to get dark soon. crap. I came across another fork in the road. I had to pee. As I got back into the car I had that awful skin prickly feeling that I get when anxiety is taking over. I took some deep breaths and decided that all I could do at this point was commit to a different direction. There was a directional sign at this junction. I wrote a note with my name, the date, the time, and the direction that I was heading in, thinking that the boys must be at the destination realizing that was lost in the national forest and maybe getting ready to send a ranger out to look for me.  I tucked my note into the sign and continued on.

Long panicked story short, I left a few more notes, finally ended up back on a paved road that had an arrow drawn into it with charcoal. Turns out that there were a whole series of arrows at each succeeding junction, and that they were in fact left for me. At some point my phone beeped with a text message from ML. The boys knew I must be lost and were waiting for me at a pizza place in the nearest town. He told me that they left arrows for me. Not sure how the text came thru, because I still had no cell service. 

Finally, I was found. The boys were found. An hour after sitting close to ML I was feeling back to normal. We were no where near our planned destination. We got some dinner at a little diner and directions to a nearby campground. 

There is more to say here (about dinner), but it is for another post.

We found a beautiful national forest campground (blue pool) right along a river. Perfect. and in the morning our neighbors told us about a hot springs a mile up the road. it was beautiful. We made some breakfast, packed up camp, unloaded a mile down the road and spent the next hour soaking up the glorious natural hot water that was emerging from the ground in a perfect little pool right alongside the river.  

Our best laid plans went terribly array, yet we still managed to find exactly what we were  looking for all along. Beautiful.

Journals from the Past

I reflected last week on the year anniversary of our first Semen Analysis and the devastating diagnosis we received. I've come a long way since then. At our Resolve meeting last night, yep I went again and it was awesome again, I was surprised by how confident and relaxed I felt. Today as I clean out some old files on my laptop, I opened an old journal to find some entries from last year, right after our first UR appointment. It's pretty powerful to read, and again a reminder of how far I've come on this journey. I wanted so much to share this with someone last year, but I wasn't ready to be so open. This seems like an appropriate place and time to share. Here goes....

I read everyday, but haven't been able to write. I want to contribute to the discussion, but I am struggling with balancing the need to connect with others who understand this experience and a strong desire for privacy. Even with screen names, the internet feels so public. 

We had our first consult with a reproductive urologist. I felt like an idiot, barely able to communicate, and definitely not strong for my husband. I had written out a list of questions in advance and actually handed the list to the Dr. My husband was great - following the discussion and asking relevant questions. I just sat there with tears running down my face. I'd prepared a letter to the Doctor and his staff to have put in our file, introducing my husband and I, reminding him that every interaction with him or his staff was highly emotional and stressful for us, asking for help in understanding the financial cost of any options that were presented to us, etc... and it had our picture on it. At the very end of the consult I handed the Dr the letter and it was like a lightbulb came on. He brought the patient coordinator nurse into the room to meet us, gave us the card for the financial counselor, and encouraged us to make an appt with the office counselor. The doctor was great before the letter, but after reading it remembered the humanity of us as a couple who were scared and in pain.
We are now waiting for results of hormones and genetic testing. I am putting all of my thoughts into hoping that the results show that we are lucky enough to move forward with a TESE, and trying to brace myself if that is not an option.
Speaking of bracing myself, I got a massage last week and realized that I was actually physically bracing myself for some sort of impact. As I started to relax, I started crying. I want to be strong for my husband. I need to hold it together at work. I honestly don't want to talk about any of this. But it is constantly swirling in my head. I am constantly in a state of apprehension. I am constantly on the verge of tears. I didn't realize how much I needed to be cared for. and how important it is going to be for me to figure out some ways to take care of myself - to create safe places where I can let my guard down. 

The physical exhaustion I've felt since getting the first SA results should have been a clue as to how much energy I am exerting to hold it together. Being at home with my husband is easiest. Being at work is okay if I can be focused on a specific task. I told my boss and direct co-worker that we had “some medical stuff going on... I felt like a zombie... I didn't want to talk about it.” They've been pretty respectful, but I know that they could ask about it at any time, and I hate that. With my irratinal emotional breakdowns and random days off for doctor appointments, I had to let them know that sometime was up and that it had nothing to do with them. Being around my one friend and two family member who know is okay. They want to be supportive, but I know that they can't understand. At least with them I know that I don't have to lie or pretend that everything is okay. Being around  friends and family who don't know is exhausting. I swear that talk of getting pregnant or babies comes up in every conversation. When we were trying, I had no problem lying and telling people that we were going to wait until I got better insurance, or until my husband got a better job, or that we just weren't ready yet. We'd wanted our trying to be private between us, as it is in fact among the most intimate and private activities that a couple ever engages in. Apparently I was so good at these fibs, when I recently told my best friend that we were having some problems, she was shocked. Ironically she was happy that her 22-week pre-nate wouldn't have to wait another 5 years for a friend, while I was considering for the first time in my life that I might never have a family. For whatever reason, when the topic comes up now I feel completely exposed and raw. and unequipped to participate in the discussion.  It takes everything I have to hold myself together so as not to let on that I want to run and hide and disappear.  We are married couples in our early 30's, so it really isn't an inappropriate subject. It's just that everything about it all of a sudden, to me, feels so invasive and out of control and, inappropriate.  I now brace myself for this part of the conversation everytime we hang out with friends. And it takes ….so.... much …. energy. 

Someone said that the first days and weeks after getting a zero SA are the worst, but it does get better. Thank you for that wisdom and encouragement. I think that I cried more in those first two weeks than I have in the past five years. For some reason driving was especially hard. Maybe the car is a private,  space where I was safe to let my guard down. I drive to meetings everyday at work, and I must have cried almost everytime I got in the car. Crying is exhausting work. I may have been physically present at these meetings, but I assure you that I was not mentally present. I was exhausted. And I couldn't eat. I've always had a hard time eating when I am under stress. It is so hard to swallow. To swallow the food, and to swallow the truth and reality of everything else that is hitting me. Besides, my stomach was in knots. Food really was not appealing. Breathing was hard too. It was as if I had to remember to breath. And as if the sobbing had hurt my diaphram, causing it to seize up everytime I exhaled. As I write this I realize that this has passed and that I can breath normally again. Reminds me of the saying, this too shall pass. 

This week has been much better. I had a full day without tears. I worked past 5 a few nights and didn't feel as thought I would pass out from exhaustion driving home. Looking back I think it started last Sunday at breakfast where I was able to eat a full meal. It is crazy to me how severely the stress of this diagnosis has physically affected me. It is unreal. 

Presenting My New Blog Design

Check it out! My new blog design! I love it. It makes me smile everytime look at it.

This blog has been a wonderful outlet for me. An essential tool in my toolkit of coping strategies. I wanted it to feel warm and welcoming when I visit. I wanted it to feel like 'me'. I wanted this space to hold my words and thoughts and emotions with strength and confidence.

Super awesome Alison, a fellow Azooser, at Giggly Girl Designs somehow managed to decipher the mess of ideas that I threw at her and come up with this beautiful design that I love. and in the process I got to talk with her on the phone, which may seem like such a tiny simple thing. It was however just what I needed to realize how much I really needed to get myself to a RESOLVE meeting. Little steps, one at a time, that lead me to places that I need to be.

***
I had a dream last night. I was pregnant. We'd just completed our first IVF cycle and I was in the 2ww, but I knew somehow. ML and I were overjoyed.  It felt so good, so positive, and so happy. In my dream I knew that we were only pregnant with one, although irl I have a sense/wish that there are twins in our future.

I've been reading and hoping for you gals (Rach,  Julie, Emmy) who are PUPO right now.  Maybe some of that positivity showed up in my dreams, and I am so thankful to have this comforting vision to hang on to as we move forward and actually get to 'try' for the first time later this fall.

I wish I could send some of my dream positivity from last night over to Jenni, who is struggling with a different set of dreams. My nightmares are the pretty standard 'a bad man is after me' dream where I wake up screaming for help.  I've actually had them with much more frequency than normal and I am wondering if it is a side effect of my happy pills. 

The more I think about it, the more inclined I am to head straight to IVF regardless of whether we can use sperm from ML. First of all, I am in a solid emotional state at the moment, but I question my emotional fortitude for doing more cycles than absolutely necessary. Since IVF has twice the chance at success as IUI, I can only assume that it means less cycles will be required to knock me up. Secondly, the cost of IUI with donor sperm is not cheap. We've been quoted between $2-4K per IUI cycle. So, three cycles could end up costing us as much as one IVF cycle with an equivalent chance at success. Except with an IVF cycle I wold likely have extra embryos waiting for me to use with a FET.  Has anyone else thought about this and actually run the percentages and costs? I'd be curious to know what others think about this.

In the meantime, I hope that you enjoy my new design as much as I do!

PS: Vegas is great. I spent all morning in the pool soaking up the sunshine. Ahhhhhh :)

RESOLVE meeting in my future

Its all set. This sunday. After visiting my grandpa, my mom and I are going to my first RESOLVE meeting. The nearest group is a 2 hour drive from my home, and they meet at 7pm on Sunday nights, making it a logistical challenge to attend. Besides, I didn't want to go by myself, but didn't really have anyone to go with. I wrote to the Resolve lady at the start of the year, and have been getting the meeting reminder emails ever since. And Finally, I am going to go. 


I have to thank Alison, The Privileged Infertile, for helping me realize how much I crave a personal connection. She is working on a personalized blog design for me (I am so excited!) and called me to talk about what I want. It was so great to talk to someone else who is going through this. SO great! So great, in fact, I am going to finally attend a Resolve meeting. Thank you Alison!


Hopefully my meeting won't be like Laura's at Bumpy Journey, attended only by a lady gnome.  I still think that Laura is a HERO for attempting to lead a group. Someday I hope I'll be as awesome and strong as she is right now. 


On another topic, I am really loving all of the posts about Fathers Day. I had no idea that this would be such a hard day for me. The cards at target caught me so off guard, but I am feeling now like I am in very good company. These posts are so validating and make me feel like I am not alone.  

Little Bits of Advocacy

My employer's group health insurance plan specifically excludes coverage for anything related to the diagnosis and treatment of infertility. I live in California and work for one of the largest employers in my County. I work for the boss, well, one of the bosses. If anyone can fix our insurance, she can, right?


I told her about our struggles last summer, when I was in Zombie condition. She is wonderful, understanding and kind. She knew when she hired me that having a family was my number one priority and that I would likely end up working part time at some point to be with my kids. She says the nicest things when I apologize for being distracted by our struggle, like, "Foxy, you are more effective now than most people when they are at 100%." It is nice and I know that she would do anything she can to support me.


I am super private about our infertility with everyone else at work. I'd originally called HR to ask about the options for changing our insurance, but didn't feel comfortable going into any details about our situation. I work very closely with the HR folks on work related stuff, and really don't need them knowing my personal business. I've been pondering how I can help my boss ask the right questions without revealing that I am the reason why.


The RESOLVE website has a generic letter to employers, and encourages all of us to send the letter to our employer and encourage them to change their insurance policy. There is apparently good research to show that infertility coverage actually results in lower premiums, higher employee productivity, etc...  So I took the letter, customized it for my workplace, and drafted it as though it was coming from my boss at the request of an anonymous employee. I've had the draft letter on my desk for two weeks and finally took a deep breath and pitched it to my boss on Friday. She could tell it was a hard thing for me to ask her and let me change the subject immediately.


I'd worked with a state lobbyist in the past on maternal health issues. She called me earlier this year to see if I would be willing to testify about those issues in the Health Reform  hearings. I let her know that I would be happy to testify, but confided that it would be hard considering our current struggles. Apparently she is also a lobbyist for fertility doctors. She told me all about some efforts that were underway to try and convince insurers to include coverage for IVF as a way to save on NICU costs. An insurer who covers IVF can limit the number of eggs that are transferred, lowering the 'risk' (or so they call it) of multiples. Multiples are more likely to spend time in the NICU, which is significantly more expensive than IVF.  Someday I hope that I will be strong enough to testify in support of this rational and logical approach to insurance coverage.


The thing is I just know that My Lover and I are not the only ones struggling with this. If one in eight couples experience infertility, then there must be many more in my workplace who are silently suffering. I am in a position to change things. We are all in a position to change things, when we are strong enough to speak up and have our voice heard.

Happy Pills

Every night before I climb into bed I take a little pill. A magic little pill it is. I call these little pills my happy pills. They don’t so much make me happy, but they really do help me feel not quite so sad.

Seriously though, I’ve spent a lot of time reading the stories of so many other women who are living this life crisis and am a little shocked that no one else talks about this. Is it that no one else has a bottle of happy pills, or is it that no one else talks about it – even here where the most intimate details of our lives are shared.

The diagnosis of infertility is the worst news I have ever been given. It shook me to my core. It changed me forever. It was a trauma unlike any other that I have ever experienced. Everything about my life as I understood it, my purpose for being, my dreams my future, everything changed in that instant.

And yet I carried on, as best as I could, with my work, and my volunteer commitments, and my friends. Except, it was exhausting. I was exhausted trying to hold it together everyday. I walked around, going through the motions, yet the only thing I could think about was the overwhelming grief and the unspoken fears. Every time I got in the car, alone with the radio, I fell apart. I cried more tears in those first months than I have my entire life. But I managed somehow.

Waiting,

Appointments,

Waiting,

Tests,

Waiting,

Appointments,

Waiting,

Results,

Waiting,

Procedures,

Waiting,

Appointments.

Waiting.

It turns out I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for being. I really am.

But it was so hard. And I was so tired. And the journey ahead felt like it was so far.

You know, we were seeing doctors, lots of them. But they were focused on the medical part of our infertility. The weren’t concerned with us, with how well we were handling the choices they kept giving us. And even if they had been, we were managing, we put on a good show, we were holding it together.

I suppose I could have gone on like that. Managing. Getting by. Going through the Motions. It sucked, but I was surviving.  We were surviving.

But then we got back the results of our second biopsy, the FNA map. I was hoping for good news that there was sperm and we could proceed with IVF. But I was also prepared for bad news that there was no sperm and we could proceed with DS IUI. We received the bad news, there was no sperm. But we also got a third option -6 months of hormone therapy to try and create sperm. I wasn’t prepared for the third option and it knocked me down hard. Six more months of waiting!?! Still no definitive plan!?! Thousands of additional dollars!?! I wasn’t prepared for this.

The idea of using donor sperm is so hard to accept. I started out thinking that it wasn’t even an option that I would ever consider. I even told my mom at one point early on that if we couldn’t use My Lovers’ sperm we were finished trying. Smart me, I reserved the right to change my mind about any decision at any time. At this point in our journey, I knew that we had to exhaust our options for full biological children before we could accept donor sperm.  I knew that I, we, still had some emotional work to do before actually moving forward with DS IUI, but it felt like an acceptable option for building our family, if we knew that My Lover’s sperm really wasn’t an option.

I wasn’t prepared for this third option and I just fell apart. I wasn’t strong enough to keep going through the motions. I just completely lost it. And I couldn’t pull myself back together. It was a combination of the sadness over the FNA results, the uncertainty of our next steps, and partly that I had just run out of energy.

My Lover and I had been seeing a couple’s counselor since we got the initial diagnosis, and she finally suggested that I ask my Dr. for a prescription for an SSRI anti depressant. Finally. Finally someone saw that I was suffering. Someone saw that the pain was overwhelming. Someone noticed that I could only tread water on my own for so long. Someone threw me a floatie.

The happy pills are my floatie. I’ve still got to tread water out here in this vast ocean. But I’ve got a little help. I’ve got a little more energy. I’ve got a little more perspective and the ability to feel beyond the pain.

It’s been at least a couple weeks since I cried. (I take that back, actually, because Dory’s comment about the Father’s Day cards had me going yesterday, but before that it had been at least two weeks.) Let me tell you I am so grateful for this break from the tears. I’ve spent time with friends, smiling and laughing, and ohhh is that nice.  I feel like me again, a changed me for sure, but me.

So, I suppose that this really long post is really to ask if I really am the only one with a bottle of happy pills, and if so why?

If the reason is that no one has noticed and offered a floatie, I hope that you’ll consider taking the one I am offering right now and make an appointment to talk to your Dr. I personally wish that I hadn’t waited so long.

the celebration society

One of the most wonderful things about being a part of this blog community is being able to read what others have written. I've discovered some of the most incredible amazing posts by the most talented writers. Your stories are so often my story, and your fears are my fears. Seeing the words already written down, articulated so beautifully is the most comforting reassuring experience. For the first time I don't feel quite so alone. I feel validated. I feel like I've found a safe place to explore my thoughts and emotions and fears and hopes. I feel understood in the most wonderful way, by you and by myself. 


I love leaving comments. I love leaving comments, even more than I love receiving comments. I love being able to say how a post makes me think and feel. I appreciate being able to express my appreciation to the author, to let them know that their post, their writing, their story has touched me in a meaningful way. 


Apparently I am not alone in this desire to appreciate my fellow bloggers! One of Mel's special projects right now is the Celebration Society.  Mel describes it as one of the most interesting delurking projects you'll ever participate in.  You can read the whole background story at Mel's celebration society post. Basically, the celebration society is a way for you to tell me what my blog or comments mean to you.  Really what I am hoping is that you will do the same on your blog - join the celebration society and create a place on your blog where I can tell you how much I appreciate YOU.


Ohhh - BTW - I just discovered that there are a few follow-up comments waiting for me at posts I have visited recently. I stumbled on a few of them, and can only assume that there are others that I might have missed.  As I said before, I love leaving comments, and would love to read your follow-up post, however I don't know that you replied to me unless you let me know. There must be a better way to keep track of comments, like a gadget or something that keeps track of the posts I comment on - if you know about something please let me know!

This year I am Stronger

I found the Cade Foundation in one of my many infertility web searches last year. Every year they offer a few family building grants of up to $10,000 to help couples build their family thru infertility treatment or adoption. The thought of ‘coming out’ and applying was too much for me to handle at the time. But this year is different. This year I am stronger.

Maybe I started feeling stronger when I came across Lily’s infertility e-class last November. (Lily authors  The Infertile Mind) I wanted to sign up, but holiday funds were tight and I wasn’t going to be near the computer enough, and, well, I had lots of excuses. It was okay though because just wasn’t quite ready.

Then Lily offered her class again in March. She titled it March Together and I loved it. I realized that I have so much to say. I realized that I needed my voice. I realized that I needed people who understood me. Every couple of days she posted a little assignment, a little question or task that helped me get my arms around this mob of thoughts that had taken over my brain,
and my life.
She broke it down into bite size pieces, so that I could start finding the right words.

I was actually scared at the start of the class to share anything. Lily made it a password protected blog and assured me that it was safe.
That I was safe.
And that what I needed to say could be said. Thank you for that Lily.
So I started writing, and writing, and writing. And ohhhhh, does it feel good. And things that I couldn’t say found their way to the computer screen, because I guess talking and writing are different somehow. And little by little, it is easier to talk about the stuff that I write about. I tested out the words in writing and if they felt okay, I tried them on verbally. Amazing how that process works.

So, Lily’s e-class was wonderful. And the March Together class was free! Instead of charging for it, she asked that we make a donation to the Cade Foundation. So I found myself back on the Cade Foundation website. They had just announced their 2010 grant cycle, and can you believe it, I applied. It was actually just a form that sad I intended to apply, but I did it. And I talked to my husband about it.
“coming out” on the application with my real name!
“talking” about the possibly of being public with our journey!

Big steps for me!

So I spent a good portion of the weekend (while I wasn't consumed reading My Bumpy Journey's entire, yes entire blog!) working on the full application that is due June 15th. I participated in the Q and A conference call this morning. I picked out a PICTURE, yep a real one!, that we will submit with our application.

I suppose I could go on and on about all of the things I thought about as I completed the application. The fact of the matter is that I am stronger and I can do this and we WILL have our someday family.

A final note of gratitude before I go.
Lily is one of those souls who touched mine. I will always remember the kindness that you showed me in our email exchange and the warmth that you exuded in welcoming me to let go and write and share. Your e-class is amazing and I hope that you keep doing it. I hope that you turn the assignments into a workbook so that I can buy it and give it to my therapist (especially the ones I don’t see anymore!). I want you to know that you opened doors for me and that I am thriving. I can’t thank you enough.