What I am Wearing and Miss Bitz

Ok so you probably don’t care.
You are probably wondering what does this have to do with being infertile?

Bear with me.

This entry has everything to do with being infertile but you are going to have to stick it out.

Today I am very proud of my “denim find”. If you are a slave to fashion as I am you will know that the “distressed jean” is all the rage and the price tag is in the neighborhood of $350 a pair—GASP!

Now I may get a bit nutty when it comes to fashion but I swear to you that I would never ---even in the best of financial times---spend $350 on a pair of jeans. NEVER! Sorry denim industry but you do realize that it’s just a pair of jeans that’s been ripped to shreds????

But as usual, it’s a fashion trend I can’t pass by. So I went in search of the trend for less---and wound up on the Abercrombie website and found exactly what I was looking for -- the price tag was $89.50. Still ridiculous for a pair of ripped jeans -- but definitely more my speed.

Today when I got dressed I built my outfit around my new jeans. On top I wore a blouse that I got at the Gap two years ago on sale for $19.00 and paired it with an Adam Lippes fur vest from Bergdorf’s (ok a splurge) but bear with me. On my feet you’ll see one of my favorite purchases of all time---my faux brown suede platform boots from Isaac Mizrahi Target! They are three years old and were $29.99! And yes---I own them in black. I will miss his Target collections dearly and only hope that he does something equally brilliant at Liz Claiborne.

But the best accessory of the day is sitting on my lap---my little dog Bitsy Charlene.

Bitsy Charlene has recently gotten the “shaft” in some of the Helpusadopt.org PR. She was hidden in the shadows in the New York Post photograph and didn’t make the cut for the recent TODAY show segment (her sister Farrah did). But Bitsy Charlene has played quite an important role in this Infertile Blonde’s life. So today I am dedicating the post to her.

Most people whisper behind my back and say, “Did Becky really name her dog Bitsy Charlene?” First of all you don’t have to whisper. And secondly, yes I did. Miss Bitz, as she is affectionately known, weighed all of four pounds when we rescued her from the PSPCA (hence the itsy bitsy) and my dear friend Charlene was the person who told me about her. I believe Charlene’s voice mail said “we have a very special dog and I think you two could use each other right now.” That’s the thing about friends---sometimes they know EXACTLY what you need.

Bitsy Charlene is my IVF dog. I rescued her during “the dark years”. I needed her and she needed me. You could even say we rescued each other. I got a little bundle to love and take care of and she got a wonderful home --- something she definitely needed since she’d been abandoned on the streets of Philadelphia.

Needless to say Miss Bitz now weighs over 12 lbs and needs to go on a diet---which will never happen---but it doesn’t matter. In spite of her waistline, she still manages to stay stylish and turn heads on the streets of NYC. She is seen here in her black and white scull and cross bones sweater that her mother just couldn’t resist.

Love much,
xob

ps. If you want to know about my make up then you’ll just have to tune in tomorrow…..it’s all from my beauty guru---and one of Helpusaodpt.org newest fans…Her initials are TMc ---and she’s divine!

Don't let me down.....

Talk to me! Every morning I log into An Infertile Blonde in the hopes that someone has made a comment! Please? Just one? Is that too much to hope for? Julie, this does not apply to you. Betty----I know you've got it in you ---make me laugh! Sara you did a great job on your first go-round! Karin---my ultimate blogger friend who suggested I do this you are off the hook, And TB what you emailed me yesterday was beautiful and well said.

Put it this way----if you are thinking it you probably aren't alone. But the difference is who is brave enough to say it out loud.

So do me a favor and make this Infertile Blonde happy----ok happier. Tell me about YOUR favorite fashion trend, tell me what you are using on YOUR face to keep the wrinkles at bay, tell me what bothers you, tell me what you'd like to change about the world around you. You could tell me your child just had Ramen Noodles and Sprite for breakfast like mine did today (I can just see that mother of the year award). Just talk to me.

I know you are reading because of all the emails and Facebook postings I am getting.....and for that I thank you.

But here's to being a little braver and posting your comments here. Your comment might help someone else.....

Love much,
xob

The Hush-Hush Mentality

I believe that as a society we have been socialized not to talk about our imperfections or any of the negative aspects in our lives. I know I was. I believe that many people in our world believe that if they don’t say it out loud then a) maybe it won’t be true and b) that no one else will know. But the reality of the situation is that a) this stuff (whatever your stuff happens to be) doesn’t go away and b) this stuff is very true. This stuff is real --- and it can be painful.

So you can imagine what that kind of socialization does to a girl like me----an infertile one and furthermore a girl whose IVF process did not end with a beautiful bouncing baby the way she expected it to. Looking back I now see that I spent nearly $100,000 and three years chasing a dream. But the dream wasn’t of a child. The dream was to be pregnant. And the funny thing is that I never really wanted to be pregnant. It wasn’t the pregnancy I was chasing ---it was the normalcy.

And in the end? How did it all turn out? The minute I held Jake all my dreams came true. The logistics don’t seem so important anymore.

The hush-hush mentality? I think we’re done with that.

Love much,
xob

My Girl Crush.....or one of them at least.........Sheryl Crow

I have loved her for some time now----it's no secret even to my husband. I love her music, I love her look, I love her attitude, I love her strength of character. She's been on my Ipod for ever . And I will never forget the morning that I read in the paper that she had adopted a baby boy. Ahhhhh the cosmic conection. Helpusadopt.org was just a concept in our brains but I knew then. She's our voice. It's just a matter of time.

You guys know that I have my inspiration board in my office of quotes that keep me going when I start to think I can't do it anymore. Quotes that keep me going when naysayers and negativity get in my way. Her lyrics are up there in the "all time fave" category. In particular I love the line from Steve McQueen that sates: "I ain't takin' shit off no one---baby that was yesterday."

Sheryl Crow, if you're listening----hug that little boy. Hug that boy with all your might and think: If you had wanted to adopt as a single woman (without your celebrity) and had needed financial help----not many would have helped you because you are NOT how they define family. Helpusaodpt.org does NOT define family. In fact, 6 of our first 14 grants were awarded to single women who are now on their way to becoming mothers for the first time.

Sheryl we need your voice. Single women looking to adopt need your voice and your help. I'm free for coffee whenever you are.

Love much,
xob

Add it to the list.......

I'm a list girl......I suppose it's because I have no short term memory. I've got lists for everything. It's the only way I can get through the day, the week, the month.......

But the list I am referring to today is the "what the hell is wrong with these people?" list.

Shortly after Christmas my home subscription to the New York Post stopped arriving at my door. The first day this happened I didn't do anything about it because to sit on hold with customer service for 20 minutes complaining over a fifty cent paper just hardly seems worth it. But when it happened for the 4th day in a two week span I called. Now it's an inconvenience.

18 minutes on hold to be exact.
When the customer service rep. finally got on the line to help me I explained the situation. First things first, she wanted to know the exact dates the paper wasn't delivered---well, I didn't put them down on a list so I didn't know. She seemed quite disappointed.

Here's where we get a little muddled.....

Her solution was this: "I am going to put a note on your account that you would like your paper delivered on a daily basis."

HUH?

"Isn't that what a 'daily' home delivery subscription is?" I asked trying so hard not to snap at her.

No reply

I tried again: "I was hoping you could put me in touch with the delivery manager so I could discuss this ----someone needs to talk to our delivery person."

"Ma'am when I put this note on your account it will be sent to the routing system and they will be notified."

OH. Whatever......

So now the address label on my paper reads like this:

my name
NEEDS POST EVERYDAY
my address
***MAKE SURE EACH DAY***

REALLY???

Don't get me wrong---LOVE the POST....read it every day....that is when it's actually delivered.

Love much,
xob

Why a crib is like a stairmaster.....

When I was first out of college I lived in Baltimore. Since I didn't have money to join a gym I bought a cheap (very cheap) stairmaster (ok glorified stepper thingamajig) and would workout in my bedroom after work while watching tv---desperate for a distraction. Months went by and I started to use it less and less and slowly the stairmaster became a clothes rack. When I moved back to Philadelphia the stairmaster came back with me only because it was basically extra closet space.

When Jake graduated into a "big boy bed" this past July I kept the crib in his room. As you know we live in NYC and don't have any storage---i miss my attic and my basement from my Philadelphia house and more so my parents attic (shhh don't tell them). We figured a baby was sure to be on the way soon so we just left the crib in Jake's room. But months went by and there was no baby. Then we thought there was going to be a baby so there was nothing to worry about. But here we are almost 6 months later and no baby. And guess what???? The crib has become a clothes rack. Sad but true. It is right next to Jake's dresser and it is so easy just to drape things over the edge.

So that my friends is why if we ever play word association and you say stairmaster to me, I'll say crib----and now you know why.

Love much,
xob

The Pleather Legging

It is a fashion choice I am sure to regret…..

When I first learned of this fashion craze in NYC this past fall, I immediately dialed up my dear friend Betty --- she is my "go to" girl for serious issues such as these. We discuss, we weigh the pros and cons and we move forward.

We both weighed in with a definite NO. To roller disco we thought. Too Olivia Newton John at the end of Grease. Definitely NO.

But then I kept seeing them…..

And they grew on me…..

Eventually I tried them on. And I fell in LOVE.

I wear them all the time….with a long blouse and sweater combined with either tall flat boots or short high heeled boots. My look is reminiscent of Chloe Sevigny in today’s New York Times Style section (page 3.)---- although no one is asking me to be in the Times as of yet for my sense of style.

I am sure I will look back a few years from now to wonder what I was thinking but for now it’s my go to favorite…..I just hope they are “in Vogue” next year too.

Love much,
xob

Keep Talking To Me......

Sorry but due to an extraordinary comment to the TALK TO ME post (see the second comment) the pleather leggings have to wait…….and yes I realize how frivolous that sounds. Yes --- I realize it is ridiculous….it’s supposed to be.

I admire the candor in this comment because she was brave enough to point out some things in my previous posts that may not apply to everyone’s personal situation. And for that I am truly sorry. I am sorry if in anyway something I said was insensitive. This is a risk you take with blogging and this is a risk I took knowingly. Please remember that “An Infertile Blonde” is my story. It is my experience and my truth.

But let’s talk. I want to clarify.

I used to have a dogwalker. I live in an apartment building so it is not possible to open the back door and let my dogs out. And sometimes due to my job (yes, I work full time in addition to Helpusadopt.org) and a sleeping child I am not always available to take “my girls” outside. It was a luxury---one that I have let go. And it was a luxury that made my day just a “little” easier to juggle at times.

I used to drink Starbucks every day----this is true. No denying it.

And the Botox? So sue me ---I’m vain.

I was a different person before I entered the world of infertility and miscarriage. There’s no denying it.

But once we learned of the cost of adoption and how many weren’t as fortunate as we were---my husband and I did what we felt we had to do. We opened up our savings account and started Helpusadopt.org. And by opened up---I mean emptied.

The best way to describe how I feel about my life now is “survivors guilt.” I lose sleep at night over the many women who fear they will never become a mother. I worry constantly about the applicants we are unable to help. I am up at night worrying that all my efforts aren’t enough. And I ask myself on a daily basis, what more can I do?

I am not looking for sympathy.
I still believe I have a charmed life.
I am doing my best to make a difference.
I won’t apologize for who I am or how I’ve lived.
I think if we’d all had a crystal ball and known that we were going to have to pay for infertility treatments and adoptions we would all have made different choices.
I am doing my best every day to raise more money to help others achieve the dream of parenthood through adoption.

I hope that I am being judged fairly---
I hope that I am now looked at for my contributions to the world of adoption and not being judged for my vices.

Keep commenting. I love it.

Love much,
xob

There are no rule books for this…..

Ask and you shall receive and I am so thrilled at the issue brought to my attention because it’s BIG! And you can read the comment for yourself ---it’s the first comment on the TALK TO ME post. I just saw a second comment and it also raises some very important issues that I am going to address next --looks like the "pleather legging issue" is going to have to wait.

In a nutshell: what do you when you aren’t infertile, you are pregnant and having children easily and your friend is struggling with infertility? How do you talk to her? What do you do????? How do you deal with the strain this puts on the friendship.

First of all this situation sucks all the way around—no doubt about it. But that’s what friendships (the good ones at least) are all about---dealing with the good and the bad. You can only hope that you are lucky enough to have friendships that survive. I know I for one am a very lucky girl. There were a few years where I just disappeared from the radar screen. I know at the time, many didn’t understand why and they didn’t know what to do. But they gave me my space, stood silently in the wings (praying) and were there when I came back (so to speak). And for that I am forever grateful.

Here are a few “Infertile Blonde” tips for dealing with this situation---they are based on my personal experience---so you can take it for what it is.

1. It IS ok to feel badly for your friend who is going through infertility……it’s a horrible, dark and lonely road.

2. It is NOT ok to brush the subject of infertility under the rug---because it is very real for the 7.3 million women going through it every year.

3. I was always happy for my friends who were pregnant. ALWAYS. I never wanted my unhappiness to overshadow their joy. But that said it was not easy to sit through baby shower after baby shower. Eventually I stopped attending---would always let my friends know why and would send a gift---it was NEVER ABOUT THEM…..It was to difficult for me. I believe this is true for many.

4. It is NOT ok to not invite your infertile friends to your baby shower thinking you are doing them a favor. It is very hurtful.

5. It is NOT ok to let your infertile friends hear about your pregnancy through the grapevine. But that said ---I always wondered why sometimes I was the call they made 3 seconds after peeing on the stick. I still get those calls and I will never understand why. I find it strange.

6. When #4 and #5 happened to me it saddened me to think that my friends though so little of me. It is impossible to rise to the occasion when your friends assume that you can’t or won’t.

7. So how do you tell your struggling friends you are pregnant? I always appreciated a friend who called and said this: “I am not sure how to tell you but I love you and I want you to hear it from me. I’m pregnant.” A perfect phone call in a not so perfect situation. I always thought those friends showed true courage and great strength of character. Try to steer away from an impersonal email----truth is it just shows you don’t have the guts to say it live or face to face.

8. It is NOT ok to complain to your infertile friends how terrible you feel during your pregnancy.
9. It is NOT ok to say that you wish you weren’t pregnant and that it was unplanned to your infertile friends---this information should be kept to yourself.

10. It IS ok to love your infertile friend.

11. It IS ok to tell her your heart aches for her.

12. It IS ok to cry with your infertile friend over a glass of wine (trust me she’ll need it)

13. And it is most definitely ok to be over the moon happy for your friend when she becomes a mother---no matter how it happens.

14. Most importantly---always think how you would like to be treated if the shoe was on the other foot. Think before you speak…..

And if all else fails just say “I’m sorry—that was insensitive” if you put your foot in your mouth……believe me, it happens to the best of us.

I’ll end this post with a heartfelt thank you to all of my friends may not have known exactly what to do ---neither did I---but you stuck with me and you were there when the BOY came home…….you’ll never know how much it meant. And hopefully, god willing, it will happen again soon.

Love much,
xob

Talk to Me.....

OK first things first......the clock is not correct on this blog.....I did not make my post at 4am! It was made at a more normal time like 7:45 am......

Second thing----TALK TO ME! I want to hear from you! I want to know what you want to know.....what's bugging you? What haven't I covered that you wonder about? Share your stories, share your ideas....share your comments....I know you've got them.....and it doesn't have to be about infertility....It can be about being a parent. Because deep down that is the common thread that links it all together-----

It can even be so simple as to ask me my opinion on the "pleather legging craze" ---but you're going to have to wait until tomorrow for that.....

Love much,
xob

Uncomfortable? Too Bad.

I for one grew up knowing the fact that nothing cleared the room faster than talk about “female issues”. My friends and I joked as teenagers that to get out of speeding tickets you just had to mention the words “cramping” and “period” to a police officer and most likely you would get just a warning and not a ticket. We learned in college that the easiest way to postpone a deadline or get out of a test was to mention “cramps so bad I couldn't get out of bed” and once we all hit the working world nothing got us a “get out of jail” sick day card like “an extra heavy period and vomiting.” I for one grew up knowing that these issues made others uncomfortable and were best kept to us. They were private matters that really shouldn't be discussed. Now granted it’s not the most appropriate dinner conversation --- but a girl’s monthly cycle is what it is. It’s a totally natural biological process and it happens to 50% of the world’s population. Still, we are all programmed to think its taboo to discuss and causes embarrassment to others.

SO what happens when we women reach our childbearing years, try to get pregnant and realize that our “female” parts are not in working order? Why do I think so many people don’t want to say the words “I’m infertile” out loud? Why do I think so many people just say “Don’t worry. Relax. This will work its way out.” WHY? They just don’t want to talk about it. They are embarrassed to say the words out loud---maybe even ashamed. How do I know? I was one of those women.

What a disservice this does to millions of American women as they struggle to become mothers. There’s no shame in being infertile. There should be nothing to hide. It is what it is. Unfortunately I know only too well that this is not the case. Thank god there are options out there for those of us who are. Being infertile is viewed by many as a stigma and an imperfection that fodders gossip. Being infertile is what causes others to say in a hushed whisper “so glad it’s not me.” It is this embarrassed hush about infertility that holds so many of us back from facing the real problem at hand and dealing with it.

So I will continue to talk about being infertile. I will continue to talk about my miscarriages----all three of them. And I will continue to be outspoken about adoption. I am not sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I won’t apologize for these discussions --- not anymore.

Love much,
xob

Resolutions......

I never make them as you know.
But for some reason, this year I feel the need to do so.
And I know I'm a bit late on it but I've had a hard time narrowing down my options.
I started to run thought the list of “personal areas for improvement” in my mind and came up with the following:
Be less argumentative
Don’t be the customer service police
Don’t point out all the bad behavior in the world around me---and worse yet, don’t expect it to change
Complain less
Be less difficult
Accept certain things and don’t push for change---because it makes others uncomfortable

When I looked at this list I realized that all of these combined really just mean I should lower my expectations on life---which I am not willing to do. I do have high expectations for life---why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't everyone?

Kipp weighed in on my list (thank you ever so much) and after much thought I do believe that my new years resolution for 2009 will be to keep the apartment cleaner. I totally admit that the reason it is usually a disaster area is due to yours truly. We'll cross our fingers and see how it goes. So far so good.

Love much,
xob

What's on my bulletin board.....

"There is nothing naive about your impulse to change this world."
Barack Obama
New York Post/ June 2008

Judgement

Judgement: a formal utterance of an authoritative opinion.

There are many decisions that are made when one is being treated for infertility. If the standard route of IVF is not successful there are some more decisions that can be made--I.E. sperm donor, egg donor or surrogate. Or you can decide to pursue adoption and then the decision making starts all over again. Will you pursue International? Domestic? Foster care? An infant or an older child? Will the child look like you or will you be open to a different race? Will you meet the birth parents? And the list goes on.

Both roads, although different, bring people closer to their goal of becoming parents. And both roads bring out the myriad of people who offer their opinions on the process (usually formed without having all the information necessary).

Sometimes these judgements are said to your face and sometimes not.

My message today is this:
Do not judge someone on their decisions until you have walked in their shoes.
Try it. You might like it.

Love much,
xob

People Ask Me......

You would be amazed (truly amazed) if I told you the questions people ask me. And not in a good way. If you haven't figured it out already, I am not shy about sharing the details of my infertility or my journey to adoption. I am willing to discuss almost anything, and with most people I do. But the funny thing is, the most frighteningly inappropriate and rude (not to mention insensitive) questions come from people I don't know. How do I handle it? The answer to that is not well at first---not well at all. But over the past three years I have gotten much better and politely putting these people politely in their place and suggesting that perhaps there is a better way to ask such a question----or perhaps that such a question need not be asked of all. After all, how would they feel if I asked such a question about their child?

The most frequently asked question (or at least I would like to believe that it is) is this: How did it feel the first time you held Jake?

And I believe that my answer is universal. I believe that my answer is what every mother, no matter how her child comes into this world, says.

My answer is simple. I was complete. I was finally a mother.

Love much,
xob

I Can't Stop Thinking About.......

People ask me all the time if I ever relax.
Ummmm……no. Never.
I would describe myself as a type A, tightly wound, high-energy sort of girl. The few times I have attempted at finding a more relaxed pace for my life I quickly end up looking for things to do and fall right back into my old ways.
I can’t help myself.
Even when I have some down time my thoughts are racing.
These days all I can think about is Helpusadopt.org and how we need to change the way adoption is perceived in our country. The perception on adoption in this country has come a long way in the past 100 years but we still have work to do on this one—trust me.

Lately I have been thinking about all the women who never have the opportunity to adopt (for whatever reasons) and how they remain childless (not by choice). I think about what that means for them, to have wanted, but never experienced the joys of motherhood.
It keeps me up at night.

I am reminded about a 93-year-old woman I met at my grandmother’s nursing home three years ago. She lived on my grandmother’s hall and was one of the ladies who ooohhed and ahhhhhed over baby Jake when I used to visit---but she always stayed on the periphery and I never knew why. Then one day, during my visit, she took me aside and told me that she was never able to have children. She told me that her family did not support adoption and forbade her from pursuing it. So she never had a child.

“You are so very fortunate --- you live in a different time. Perhaps I wasn’t strong enough? It is a regret that will last a lifetime.” She said as she reached out with a finger for Jake to wrap his little fingers around. Her eyes welled up with tears as she continued, “He’s just perfect. He suits you. I would have liked to be a mother.”

Love much,
xob

My Linebacker.....

New Years

Resolutions.
I don’t do them in January like the rest of the world (big surprise).
I give myself marching orders throughout the year whenever I have one of my brilliant ideas on how I can somehow change and or fix my life. When most people settle into routine I will announce that I am off to change mine---my friends and family expect it and are somewhat amused. So when the majority of the world headed off to the gym to join and to get into shape a few weeks ago, I headed back to the gym---back to my Notre Dame linebacker.

Last year (March 08) I took a long hard look in the mirror (in my bra and underwear) and I just didn’t like what I saw (think big giant pear). I was almost 38 and figured with 40 looming the situation wasn’t going to get any better on its own. So I gave myself an early birthday present and went in search of a trainer. A trainer who might be able to resolve my “issues”.

I wanted someone who would not judge me for being the punch line of a joke - a somewhat skinny, blonde, Upper East Side publicist. I needed a trainer who was not afraid to push me, even when I thought I could not finish an exercise. I wanted someone who was affordable, to focus on changing my body, as long as I put in the work. I diligently did my homework and tracked down what I considered to be an “urban legend” right here in New York City. Ultimately, I found more than I ever bargained for in a trainer—I found my linebacker! Jeremy Sample, a former starting linebacker from the University of Notre Dame. I may not know much about football (ok I know nothing), but I knew what a “starting linebacker and Notre Dame Football” meant. It meant this guy was a serious, disciplined athlete and he had guts. (check him out: http://www.jeremysample.com/)

I made the appointment. Jeremy set the tone of our first session by sternly saying “I’m going to work you hard. You might not enjoy it. I am not the trainer for everyone.” I think he was hoping that I would leave at that point. Which is why I had to prove him wrong. But he then said, “Tell me about your goals and your diet.” And I had a mild stroke --- you mean the box of Cheez -Its and Diet Coke I had for dinner last night? I decided not to immediately share that information with Jeremy and instead told him I was ready to get started.

After our first session, which ended 10 minutes early, I almost threw up and could barely walk home. I showed up two days later for round 2 (I think he was shocked). I made it through the entire 50 minutes and again, almost threw up. The second week was not much better, but there was no way I was going to let this guy get the best of me. Within the month, I was holding my own. This was when the change in diet happened. I had to give him 10 weeks of no salt, sugar, white flour, alcohol and not eating after 8pm. He wanted me to eat every three hours and told me if I was ever really hungry, I was doing something wrong. I was getting exactly what I had asked for in a trainer.

I made a promise to myself and I needed to see if this “linebacker” was worth it. I had 10 weeks and changing how I ate was challenging. However, it got easier as the pounds started to disappear. 10 weeks later, I proudly stood before Jeremy transformed. I lost 15 lbs and 5% of my body fat. I did not realize I had that much on me to lose to be quite honest with you. I lost the majority of inches around my hips and thighs (thanks to my mother), which caused me to drop down two jean sizes. I am stronger, more fit and faster than I have ever been. And best of all ---I am not starving all the time.

So I continue to head to the gym this January (a luxury I’ve cut back to just once a week) to see my linebacker. I hope that if I continue to push myself beyond my physical limitations at the gym it will become the hardest thing I do in a day. I can’t say that my “wish” has come true yet but I will say I am ready for the fight.

Love much,

xob

I was wrong and oh how wrong I was……

People say that parenting is one of the hardest jobs on the planet however I missed the class that said that having your children could be even harder.

Jake’s adoption---as adoptions go---was a cake walk (10 months). Looking back, this is both a blessing (then) and a curse (now). It set the bar too high for my expectations on adoption #2.

I arrogantly thought that the 2nd time around would be as easy as the first. We moved from Pennsylvania to New York so we couldn’t use the same service professionals but it never occurred to me it would be much different. In my mind it was to go like this: chose service professionals, tackle the mountain of paperwork, and wait for baby. I obviously experienced a moment of pure insanity.

Long story short: there is nothing easy about adoption. Nothing.

We have been at this second adoption for 18 months and with each passing day that we don’t get chosen by a birthmother the disappointment mounts. My longing for a baby has intensified. Everywhere I look women are pregnant. Everywhere I go I see a constant sea of double strollers. It’s not so much a jealousy factor, it’s just a daily reminder that this isn’t working as I had planned and I am still waiting. Whenever I pat my stomach and say, “I’m 18 months pregnant” I realize how silly that statement may sound to some---but it’s true. We started this process 18 months ago and now here we are back to square one. I try to stay positive and I try to be optimistic but my god 18 months with no end in sight? The process is slowly killing me.

It was one thing to be infertile. That I can take. But a failed adoption is basically a miscarriage (which brings me to 4). And then to have an adoption drag out over 18 moths is just plain cruel and unusual punishment. And just so you know 18 months in the adoption world is not considered an overly long time to wait. There are many people who wait 2+ years for their children.

But in my mind this should have been over by now. I should have been sending out birth announcements instead of a Christmas card a few months ago. I had them all picked out and had dreamt of taking a picture of Jake holding his new brother or sister. Instead I found myself scrambling for a picture of the boy that would fool everyone into thinking that it was taken with intent. I can’t wait until the day I can say “my children” without it being a hypothetical concept.

Putting on a brave face won’t prevent me from getting my heart broken repeatedly but it does convince the rest of the world that I am ok. When clearly I am not. This only leaves me open to the fact that if I happen to fall apart everyone will wonder what the heck happened to her? As I see it I have had two options from the start: Put on a brave face and do everything within my power to make this happen or fall apart. I am not really interested in option #2.

So on a daily basis I have faith. I get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other, count my many blessings, and keep moving forward. But I have to wonder, how did I get here?

Love much,
xob

The Other B Word.....

I am aging.
It’s true.
I am 38 ½ years old and based on the women in my family and their skin--- I am looking for any miracle I can find. In these financial times the Botox was one of the first things to get cut from my budget. I mean I can hardly complain about that because it is a ludicrous concept in itself. But it left me wondering…….what do I do with my crows feet and forehead wrinkles???? I have found the answer. Clairns makes a product called “Instant Smooth – Perfecting Touch” and it’s just marvelous (to quote my grandmother)! What is it? Basically it’s Spackle for your face. I am sure Clarins would rather me tell you that it’s a balm like line filler and wrinkle smoother. Whatever you want to call it the stuff is magic and not very expensive at all. Well, when compared to Botox almost anything would be considered reasonable. Now, if only I could find a concealer that actually covered dark under eye circles I’d be all set.

Love much,
xob

The B Word.....

It’s been a hard few months for this self-professed fashionista here in NYC. NYC is not the easiest place to live on a budget period. And if you are a slave to fashion it can be downright torturous at times. I have been on-- dare I say it-- a budget for months (thank you Bear Stears) but recently my husband suggested that we take it to a new level. I have gone cold turkey---bare bones spending---and that wasn’t easy especially during Christmas ---a time when I usually go overboard. But I can honestly say that I am hardly suffering----just getting a little more creative. And I hate to admit it but I now see how frivolous I’ve been in the past few years----I’m a little embarrassed but I can’t undo the past. So Frugal Fanny Fawcett has started doing some things that have made her friends gasp! I’ve started cooking on a regular basis (that involved learning how to). I’ve stopped going out every Saturday night to the hippest coolest newest restaurant. I’ve stopped my frequent shoe and bag indulgences. I’ve stopped drinking Starbucks three times a day. I am recycling what’s in my closet and shopping on sale. Our vacation this year will be at my parent’s house this summer in Philadelphia (don’t tell them I want it to be a surprise) and I am walking my own dogs during the work day! Don’t laugh and don’t judge. The prospect of leaving NYC to move in with my parents didn’t thrill me (or them for that matter). Like everyone else I had to sit down and figure out what I could and couldn’t live without until things turn around---which they will----and what’s funny is that maybe just maybe this blonde will come out of it with a little more sensibility. Helpusadopt.org is my passion and I don’t want to see my contribution dwindle in 2009 because I had no self-restraint.
Love much, xob

Failure. Not one of my favorite words.

Failure: a lack of success or a falling short.
Bottom line is this is not something I do.
I have never been the smartest, the most athletic, the most popular or the best at anything since high school but that said I don't like to fail. I am actually very competitive in nature and like to prove that underdogs can succeed which has served me well over the years because it makes me work harder to get what I want or need. IE getting in to college early decision in spite of a terrible SAT score or getting jobs that clearly I didn't have the experience for. But when infertility reared it's ugly head in my life I realized that this was not something I could not control ---no matter how hard I worked. For a type A person this was very difficult to accept. Furthermore, if I thought I lacked control of the IVF process it was even worse during the adoption process. I had to consistently put my trust in others and move forward on blind faith.

One of the hardest things about the adoption process is that it is not a perfect system. It's an amazing system and thank god for millions of us that it exists, but it is far from perfect. I mentioned in my last post that we had a failed adoption in December and one of my readers asked what does that mean? There are many reasons why an adoption can fail but in our specific situation it meant that a birth parent changed their mind about placing the child for adoption. More interesting still, in our case, it was the birth father. Had this been my first adoption this news would have destroyed me. But since it is my second adoption and I am a few years older and wiser I realize that this was not my child. I won't lie to you---it was not a great phone call to get. I felt as if someone had kicked me in the gut with all their might. I was so numb I didn't cry. Am I angry? Yes, furious if you must know. I can't believe I am "18 months pregnant" (as I call it) with no end in sight. I can't believe that I am 38 years old and only have one child. I am furious that adoption takes this long and clearly I still don't understand why. I am furious that by the time I have my two children it will have cost me $200,000 (between the IVF and the two adoptions). And I am furious that other people in this world aren't parents yet because they can not afford adoption (but that's another post).

I do know from my journey to Jake, that the bumps in the road on this second adoption will lead me to the child that I am supposed to have. That is the only certainty I have in this process and I can tell you from my experience with my beautiful boy----it will be worth the wait.

I thank my reader for your question and invite you all to comment. Let me know what you want to know about infertility and adoption----chances are I've been there done that.

Love much,
xob

Infertility.....The gift that keeps on giving

Happy New Year!
January is the time for new beginnings and starting over.
I remember back during IVF hell (I believe it was New Years Eve 2003) my husband and I went to a neighborhood party and left before midnight because we just weren’t “feeling it”. I went to bed thinking that when I woke up it would be a new year and all this infertility crap would be behind me. I was convinced that with a little positive thinking 2004 would be different as I closed my eyes and drifted into a blissful sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my little dog Bitsy throwing up on my pillow and in my hair. I looked at the clock and it was 4:37am ---Happy 2004! This pretty much sums up my 2004.

2009 is hopefully going to be a great year. I don’t know about you but 2008 kicked my ass (sorry). In February 2008, after much thought I decided to stop working as a publicist to focus 100% of my time (pro-bono) on the non-profit my husband and I started called Helpsuadopt.org---it’s a financial grant program that helps people with the costs of their adoptions. It was a very difficult decision but we both felt it was time. Three weeks later my husband became one of the first casualties of the financial world and lost his job (thank you Bear Stearns), and we were 9 months into our 2nd adoption with no match in sight. It was mildly unpleasant to say the least. Long story short----my husband is once again gainfully employed (a true blessing) and I am no longer a retired publicist. We have blown through a good portion of our savings (once again) just treading water, and we were scheduled to adopt a baby in early December but three weeks before the due date we experienced a failed adoption. Now we are 18 months into this 2nd adoption with no match in sight. But one thing I’ve learned in the past 7 years is this: Life doesn’t always take you where you think you should be going instead life shows you a direction you should have found for yourself.

I do believe that 2009 holds much promise.
Love much---xob

AND SHE WAS...........

I am infertile.
Does that make you uncomfortable?
Sorry, can’t help it, its true.

Here’s the short story:
7 years ago I started trying to have a baby. Didn’t go so well. Moved onto IVF about 1 ½ years into trying and did five rounds----got pregnant three times and had three miscarriages (one at 14 weeks). After the final miscarriage in December of 2004 my husband and I moved onto adoption (P.S. I was terrified). In October of 2005 our son Jake was born in Maine. I was in the delivery room with his birthmother when he came into this world. All in all it took me 46 months and well over $100,000 to have my first child. If you want details I am happy to share……later.

I found myself at 35 with a baby, a full time+ job running my PR firm The Fawcett Group and a body that had failed me---or so I thought---I didn’t really know which way was up. Now I understand why my life worked out this way---or at least I think I do. I have the child I was meant to have, there’s no doubt about it. The rest of the story? Well, it’s had some bumps and some bigger bumps but in comparison I feel I can handle anything now that I’ve tackled infertility.

Now I see the world a little differently. I am a little less serious, a little more humble, a little less by the book and have a lot more fun.

Bear with me as I settle into this blog and find my groove. I hope to engage and entertain with my unusual perspective and my life as an Upper East Side publicist, a mother, and a girl who is seriously trying to change the world one adoption at a time.

Love much,
xob