www.aninfertileblonde.com

It's official......as of TODAY I will no longer have my blog on blogspot.......Please visit www.aninfertileblonde.com for today's and all future posts.

We have created a much more user friendly site.......you can sign up to receive the posts WITH ANY EMAIL ADDRESS! So fun...and it will be eaiser to comment---and you know how I love it when you do!

Love much,
xob

Spring's hottest fashion accessory

If buying a bracelet would help someone become a parent through adoption how many would you buy?

Exactly.

It's really simple.

$30 is all it takes----unless of course you'd like to stack them.

There are 8 in the photo......I wear 5 at a time......most people wear 1-3........

The Helpusadopt.org bracelet looks great by itself or next to your watch or mixed in with other bracelets.....

Sometimes I wear 1 or 2 next to my silver watch and it looks great.....

It's a statement.....for family.

It's a statement..... for children who need homes.

It's a statement..... for prospective parents who have a lot of love to give but need help from Helpusadopt.org

In case you don't know....This Infertile Blonde is co-founder and executive director of an organization called Helpusadopt.org (www.helpusadopt.org).

Helpusadopt.org is a national non-profit that helps couples / individuals with the costs of their adoptions by awarding grants of up to $15,000 to help with the costs of their adoptions. An average adoption costs $25-30,000!

This bracelet is our new fundraising initiative and they are selling out faster than we can make them.....

The bracelet was co-designed by two adoptive mothers. Yours truly and my friend Denise Cox of Denise Cox Jewelry Designs.

Crafted out of chocolate brown smoky quartz and accented with a gold leaf symbolizing a family tree, this bracelet signifies love, hope and the dream of parenthood through adoption.

100% of the price will be donated directly to Helpusadopt.org.

This bracelet is dedicated to birth parents everywhere for their courage and conviction. Especially those that helped Denise and I realize our own dreams of motherhood.

Please buy one....or two or three.....help someone who is struggling to become a parent.

We are in the process of re-building our website so for now please email or call to place your order:

becky.fawcett@helpusadopt.org or 917.684.5484.

The bracelets are $30 each + $5 for shipping and handling.

Love much,

xob

Just like a scene from "St. Elmo's Fire".......

Many often comment about how open I am about my struggle with infertility, my three miscarriages, and adoption.

Some embrace it.

Some don't.

Some wonder why I am like this---"what's the point" they ask.

Some roll their eyes when I say I am "An Infertile Blonde"---but I am one.

Well, the point is that 7.3 million people a year struggle with infertility.....as for miscarriages and adoption, I believe it is all under the same umbrella---and I think as a society we need to talk about it.

I am not a girl who believes that if you don't talk about it, it doesn't exist. That's not how I work.

These unpleasant journeys in our lives are real and they are painful. I speak from experience.

But they can also be life changing in ways you never thought possible.

I believe that you should talk openly about these things because you just never know who you might meet. You never know who's been through the same thing or someone who can offer you a piece of valued advice.

But I remember feeling as if I "shouldn't" talk about it.

I remember feeling embarrassed and almost ashamed that my body wasn't cooperating the way it was supposed to.

Now I look back and think really? How did I let myself feel that way? Shame on me.

I probably could have really used some open and honest conversation about what was going on in my life.

What wasn't helpful was feeling like I was living a scene from St. Elmo's Fire.....remember the mother who whispered certain words she didn't want to say out loud? "Cancer" "Drugs" "Prison"?----I am sure "infertility" "miscarriage" and "adoption" would have been on her list too.

Yes, now I can laugh about it. But trust me my friends, this is no laughing matter.

So I decided that I was going to talk about this stuff. I was going to be brave and bring it out into the open. Because of the number of people that infertility affects, we should be talking about this stuff openly and honestly.

Every day I hope that one way or another--- I do my part to make someone's journey through infertility, miscarriage or adoption just a little easier.

After all, doesn't everyone need a shoulder to lean on now and again?

Love much,
xob

Miss Bitz

Here she is.....

In all her glory.....

I rescued my little Bitz from the PSPCA in February of 2003 (during my IVF hell) and she was roughly 13 weeks old. She weighed barely 5 lbs.

Now she weighs 12.5 lbs.

As her mother I think she is the most beautiful girl in the world---although this picture does not do her justice.

But there are a few things you should know about my girl....

1. She snores like a freight train.

2. She hides under the bed and snaps at me when she doesn't want to go outside.

3. She is always "starving".

4. She has terrible gas----all the time.

5. Sometimes she sleeps on Kipp's side of the bed like a human with her head on the pillow.

6. She stands just out of my reach and barks at me when I go to the bathroom (lovely)

7. She has breath that could peel paint.

8. Sometimes she sleeps on her back, under the covers, with all four legs in the air

9. She is mildly disagreeable

10. She chases rabbits in her sleep

11. She sort of looks like a pot bellied pig (although that might be offensive to potbellied pigs)

12. She has perfectly straight and brilliantly white teeth

13. She LOVES Jake

14. She sits on my lap while I work and #1 and #4 happen (again....lovely)

15. She needs to go on a diet but it will never happen.

16. Is terribly misunderstood.

In spite of all her flaws I love this little girl with every bone in my body......no one else might.....but I do....she's got personality and I love it.

Love much,

xob

A Pain in the Neck

Yesterday I had a pinched something or other in my left shoulder.....

It makes total sense.

I'm left handed and I carry my overloaded bag on that shoulder.....

So when the ache began I switched my bag to the other arm and figured I'd be fine.

Apparently not.

I barely got any sleep last night because the pain has not only spread but has intensified.

I now have a giant knot where my neck meets my shoulder and can barely move.

Perhaps it is stress related.....

I can't imagine why?

And if that wasn't enough.....

I also woke up to a mild case of "adult acne".....lovely (uhhhhh I think I'm stressed).

Additionally, I had to kill a roach in my bare feet first thing this morning. (This is really one of the negatives about living in NYC)

Not with my bare feet mind you but it still sucked.

But even though my day started out on quite a sour note it has gotten better.....

a. I spent the day with Jake who didn't have school (can't get much better than that)

b. Helpusadopt.org is going to be on the Fox News Chanel tonight (national program...not bad)

and

c. Suzanne Somers is on HSN tonight (this might just be the highlight of my day)

I love her.

I think she's brilliant.

I don't buy anything (sorry Suzanne).

I just watch.

Kipp just shakes his head.

Happy Easter.....


Love much,
xob

The Rules

In addition to the laws there are many rule and arbitrary stipulations in the world of adoption.

I am doing my best to learn more about all of them.

But they really do make me angry.

And the ones that make me the angriest don't apply to me.......

But that doesn't mean that they are right.

Arbitrary judgement really doesn't sit well with me.....

NEVER in my life have I ever wanted to work so hard for change......for others

There are those who say it can't be done.

And to those people I say.......

WATCH ME.

Love much,
xob

I am an ELEPHANT

This month I am officially "22 months pregnant."

This statement confuses many......which is fair. Because as many like to point out, I am not "technically" pregnant.......

This is how I refer to myself in this second adoption.......because basically since the day we decided to pursue baby #2---in my mind I was pregnant.

I thought it was important to put this journey into terms that people could relate to.

What I didn't count on was that it would take so long---I had really hoped that the count would end @12 months or so.

According to the Guinness Book of World Records the Elephant is the mammal with the longest gestational period....apparently those editors had never researched the adoptive mother!

So as I embrace my new "elephant" status I take a deep breath.

I stand up straight and hold my head high.

Forward march.

One foot in front of the other.

Day by day.

Hopefully one day soon my water will break.......


Love much,
xob

New Year's Resolution....status update

This is nice.

This is what has sat in the middle of my bedroom floor since I got home on 3.21.

I knew it wouldn't last.

But really never thought it would be this bad. It didn't help that I knew I'd be packing again in 10 days......

I can't say that Kipp is too surprised....he just shakes his head and laughs.

But for this I had to apologize.

Just so you know, as I write this I have cleaned up the bedroom.

And I have repacked.

But there is still a big pile of clothes that has to get put away.....

Old habits die hard my friends.....but I'm working on it.

Love much,
xob

ps. yes you got two blog entries today.....since I am traveling for work you might not hear from me for a few days. Plus am staying with my parents again and you know how those suburban stairs tire me out!

pps. $7 more went in the bad word list jar today

It really does exist....

I'm trying.

Really, I am.

But at the end of the day yesterday I just cut my losses and put $20 in the jar.

It was one of those days.

Hopefully today will be better.

Love much,

xob

Madonna......I'm on your side......

Wow......who knew?

Who knew that building your family through adoption could cause such a stir????

I mean I for one have always loved "The Material Girl" for her ability to cause a commotion.....and let's face it I've loved her since Like a Virgin hit the shelves in 8th grade.

I stood up for her when she adopted the first time.

And I will continue to do it every time she does.

Big question to the rest of the world: Why do you care so much? Why are you judging with such animosity??????

And if she were pregnant would everyone care so much???

Adoptive parents on a whole are subjected to such scrutiny......why is that?

As an adoptive mother, some of the headlines in NYC today truly sadden me......not only for Madonna and her family but for all adopted children who live in our country.

One writer here in the Big Apple judged Madonna for taking her children out of school to accompany her on her trip to Africa.

Just for the record if our family ever has the opportunity to go to Africa ---I will be ripping Jake out of school for the trip if necessary---so get ready to judge! I mean honestly hmmmmm a week of world travel over a week of school?????

Why don't some people want Madonna to build her family through adoption? And why are others telling her "how" she should build her family? Since when did having children become anyone elses business?

Food for thought: Don't judge someone until you have walked in their shoes.

Madonna, I'm ready for coffee whenever you are.

Love much,
xob

A notice from school

Jake brought home a slip of paper with reminders on it from school today.

"Don't forget Mom.....We're having a party for Mother's day at school." He said.

My heart just skipped a beat.....

How could I ever forget? Does this kid have any idea what he means to me?

Love much,
xob

The Bad Word List

When I was growing up we had "the bad word list" in our house.

Every time someone said "a bad word" you had to put 25 cents in the jar.

Quickly I learned that 25 cents was no big deal---and so did my parents---so the fine was increased to $1.

That quickly became a big deal.

My siblings (all younger) were not pleased with me, but since I seemed to be the only one to get caught they lost interest.

My brothers spent their days creating "code words" to use instead of curse words---no one seemed to catch on to that--I still got caught and blamed for leading a bad example.

I think I single handedly paid for my parent's European vacation.

When they realized that the "fines" were not doing the trick the jar disappeared.

I am sure there were more significant punishments at that point but I have blocked them from my memory.

Fast forward to my adult life......

If I had put a dollar in a jar for every swear word I've ever used in the last 20 years I would be a RICH woman in this recession!

I've never been able to break this bad habit----although (let's face it)I haven't really ever tried that hard--ok at all.

And it really is an unattractive habit.

But now.......

Now I have a little boy.

And that little boy tells me "stupid isn't nice."

And he's right.

And that little boy tells me not to say "S***" and he's absolutely right.

And now we have the "bad word list" in my house again.

And we have the jar......funny thing is.....I'm the only one putting money in it again.

Some things never change....but this time they have to.

Love much,
xob

The Risk....nothing compares

I have racked my brain for months.

And I can't come up with anything comparable.

NOTHING compares to the financial risk adoptive parents assume when they build their families.

While statistics say that an average adoption costs $25,000 ---most (domestic & international) run in the $30,000 - $50,000 range ---please keep in mind this includes everything ---even travel.

And there's no guarantee......we all sign paperwork releasing anyone and everyone of any financial responsibility if the adoption does not finalize.

No one wants to take on this assumed financial risk. Who would?

But adoptive parents have to take it on---otherwise we can't build our families.

I do not object to the cost of adoption as I understand that many different service providers are needed to make adoptions happen.

I am in awe of and grateful to the group of honest and hardworking service providers who work tirelessly day in and out to help adoptive parents build their families.

But I have to question the safety net?

Why isn't there one?

Love much,
xob

I am still.....

Waiting.

Love much,
xob

Introducing Hilda

If you've been following An Infertile Blonde you will remember my recent thrift shop find....the fur stole......

Well here "she" is!

I have affectionately named "her" Hilda in honor of the woman who used to own "her" since that name was embroidered in the old lining.......

So here I am wearing Hilda complete with her new lining and I love "her".....I am quite proud of my thriftiness.

I am standing in front of my prized possessions----Jake's art project bulletin board---god I waited years to have one of these!

And I am holding Miss. Bitz because she's fabulous!

And the sunglasses? Well I was not wearing ANY make up and I am vain.

Enough said.....

Love much,

xob

Throw it out the window......

I think logically.

Most of the time it's very cut and dry with me.

So it is understandable why I have trouble understanding why this second adoption is taking so long.

What is it 21 months?

I don't even want to say the words out loud.

I understand "logically" the time it takes for paperwork to be completed.

I understand "logically" the time it takes for legal proceedings----but I'm not even there yet.

I've just been waiting.....

......and waiting......

to be matched.

Almost two years and nothing to show for it.

Twice as long as Jake's adoption.

So you can understand why this is beginning to bother me....and yes I am being polite....because quite frankly there's not much I can do about it.

And if I was pursuing an international adoption it would be taking even longer......I recently met a couple who has been waiting three years!

WHAT?????

I would really like someone to explain to me what this wait is all about.

I need a logical explanation.

Help me understand.

And please don't tell me it's just not my turn yet.....my child is out there.....this will all become clear once I hold my baby.......because that is what I have been telling myself for months!

And everyday, although I try not to think about it-----I am waiting for the phone to ring......

And yes I do find it ironic that on a daily basis I am working to help others become parents through adoption, yet I can't seem to help myself.


Love much,
xob

A Infertile Blonde Moment.....

Last December we changed health insurance carriers and visited our new pediatrician.

As Jake played with the toys in the waiting room, I tackled the new patient forms----including a three page family medical history.

Once we were in the exam room our new doctor came in and we started going over all the forms.

It wasn't until we were discussing page 2 of the family history that I realized none of what I answered pertained to Jake.

When I realized what I'd done I burst out laughing-----I think our new Doctor thought I had lost my mind.

"Nothing on that form pertains to Jake." I told her

She looked confused.

"I totally forgot. Jake's adopted."

But the thing is that these sort of things never cross my mind unless they are pointed out by others.

Jake is my son and I am his mom.

And we are a family.

End of discussion.

Love much,
xob

There's no place like home.....

Lucky for me I have two!

NYC where I currently live.....

And the Main Line Philadelphia suburbs where I not only grew up but lived for 36 years.

It's actually sort of wierd......

I know I don't "technically" live in Philly (some really like to point that out) but I since I am here so often for both work and pleasure I do still feel (and always will) that it is still my home.

When I am here for extended periods of time (like this week) I do remember the little things that I took for granted when I lived in the Suburbs and now miss terribly since I live in the City.


1. A fenced in backyard. It is soooooooo nice to open the back door and let my dogs out. You have NO idea......

2. A washer and dryer in the house.....Again, in NYC this is quite the luxury and oh what Iwouldn't give to have one!

3. Target.......nothing else needs to be said.


And on the other hand, there is one BIG thing that I miss terribly about NYC that I realize I might never be able to live without and that is all the food delivery.

I'm addicted.

I can't even begin to tell you how many bowls of cereal I've eaten this week and it's not even Friday.

Love much,
xob

Adjusting to suburban life......

It's Jake's spring break so we are spending the week at my parent's house outside Philadelphia.

It's a mix of business and pleasure for me.

And believe it or not, eventhough I lived here for 36 years it's an adjustment to come back to suburban living.

1. I have become very used to living in a four room apartment on one floor. Just getting my suitcase upstairs to my room nearly killed me. Never mind the fact that Iam constantly leaving my cell phone somwhere in the house and have to call it and go searching.

2. Grocery shopping in the suburbs is a dream! The stores are gigantic as compared to NYC and the selection is just amazing. Not to mention that the kids carts are like amusement park rides. Jake loves it. Not only does he have a steering wheel but there's a tv with cartoons for him to watch too. And the nice thing is that my old phone number still works as my "frequent shopper" number. The receipt prints out for Becky Fawcett and I saved $17.65 the other day---very exciting. That just doens't happen in NYC. EVER.

3. Suburban Driving. This might be the hardest adjustment. Yesterday I was out of the house from 10am - 6pm and only had three meetings and I was late every step of the way. I forgot how long it takes to get everywhere when you are driving. And the traffic----on my way to my first meeting I was stuck behind someone who apparently thought it was a good idea to drive 15 mph in a 35 mph zone. I could have walked there faster.

4. The sleeping issue is a problem. IT'S TOO QUIET!!!!!! All I hear as I try to fall asleep each night is Miss Bitz snoring. I need to get a noise machine. Do they make one with traffic and sirens?????

But all in all I am happy to be home for the week. This area outside of Philadelphia is beautiful and it is so nice to see my family and all my friends because I miss them. I may not tell them often enough but I do.

Love much,
xob

It's never easy......

It wasn't easy to say the words out loud the first time.

I really wasn't even sure what it all meant.

But over time it got easier.

And now it's just part of who I am.

And who I will be.

I am infertile.

I am An Infertile Blonde.


Love much,
xob

PS. Will have a picture of the mink stole this week.....

An anniversary I'd like to forget......

One year ago today we got the news (along with the rest of the world) that Bear Stearns (my husbands former employer) was in trouble.......serious trouble.

It was Friday March 14th 2008.

Everyone always asks me if we knew anything in advance.

Does Thursaday March 13th count as advance?

Love much,
xob

The Bridge to Adoption

I seem to be asking myself this question daily.

Why is the bridge from treatment to adopiton so hard to cross???

And I don't know the answer.

I can't seem to pinpoint it with others either.

But it's a scary bridge to cross for the first time.

I'll keep searching.......

Love much,
xob

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Grandmom.
I miss you.

Love much,
xob

Miscarriage #1

When it happened all I could think was that everyone knew.

I panicked at the thought of telling people.

This wasn't any old miscarriage that I could sweep under the rug (is there even such a thing???)

This miscarriage had taken me years to get to.

The public factor was just horrendous!

When we started telling people we were pregnant, word spread quickly.

There were so many who knew our struggle and were happy for us.

It was wonderful.

I was in heaven.

It was a miracle.

But it wasn't meant to be.

I miscarried at 14 weeks.

I remember sitting at my computer the day after and composing my email.

"Dear Friends, we are sorry to let you know that we lost the baby...."

The words echoed in my head.

Lostthebabylostthebabylostthebaby

I sent the email to everyone we knew and knew we wouldn't be able to reach everyone---that scared me.

I knew it was only a matter of time before I would run into someone who didn't know.

And it would be horrific.

As I pushed send, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer......

Please give me the strength to get through this in one piece.

And I did.

It took some time.

But I did.

You will too.

Love much,
xob

Sing it Sheryl.......

"No one said it would be easy......."

"No one said it'd be this hard...."

Sheryl Crow


Couldn't have said it better myself.

Love much,
xob

Vintage is just a fancy word for……

USED.

That’s it. Used. Plain and simple.

You can dress it up anyway you want but it is what it is.

I however don’t care.

I love consignment/thrift stores and if I had more time would pop in more frequently. But consignment/thrift store shopping takes time, patience and creativity. I don’t usually have the first two.

Earlier this week I popped in three stores and found a treasure in the last one. I had to dig, but it was there.

I found the most beautiful mink stole. The fur is in almost perfect condition but when I went to try it on I noticed that the lining was in shreds--not even remotely wearable.

I almost put it back on the rack but the color of the fur was so beautiful---a rich caramel --perfect for An Infertile Blonde.

Maybe I could pop in a new lining and I’d be all set???

Price tag $50.

I figured it was worth a try.

I left the store with my new purchase and headed directly to my neighborhood seamstress where I picked out a new lining from her fabric supply.

My new stole will be ready at the end of next week.

Don’t worry; I’ll post a picture when it’s done.

I wonder what Rachel Zoe would say?

Love much,
xob

The F Word

I was with a lovely group of women recently talking about infertility and the transition to adoption---something I do on a dailybasis.......
One word kept rearing its ugly head time again and again and again---- FAILURE.

“IVF FAILED”

“I had a FAILED pregnancy”

“My body FAILED me”

“We had a FAILED adoption”

“I FAILED……”

“My husband FAILED……”

“They FAILED to give me that information”

“My friends FAILED to understand what I was going through”

FAIL FAIL FAIL……

UGHHHHHHHHH

I actually started to keep track of the number of times the word (in one way or another) was mentioned.

Put it this way----I stopped. I couldn’t keep up.


And then one woman looked at me and said “How did you ever get beyond the FAILURE?”

Ahhhhhhh….a question I could answer.

Not only could I answer this question, I could answer it smiling.

“Jake.” I replied

She gave me a questioning look.

“When Jake came into my life, it all became very clear why all the other options had to fail. Jake is the child I was meant to have.”


“I found a different path to motherhood through adoption and learned that my failures weren’t truly failures. They were simply events that led me in a direction I wouldn’t have found for myself.”

And then I added, “It wasn’t easy…..but I got past the F word, you will too.”

She laughed.

As I left the event, even I had a sense of renewed optimism about my own road to adoption….but I remember those days of FAILURE like they were yesterday.


Love much,
xob

Period.

I got mine yesterday.

When it comes to that aspect of my reproductive system my body works perfectly.

To add insult to injury I get a full day of mildly unpleasant cramps (to say the least).

I hate that it still bothers me.

But it does.

It’s like a sharp stick to the eye.

A very sharp stick.

It’s not that I want to be pregnant at this point (trust me I don’t).

It’s just that for a moment it brings back all the months/years of wondering, the days/weeks/months of negative pregnancy tests and disappointment.

It brings back the pregnancies that ended in untimely bleeding.

It makes me laugh and roll my eyes at the insanity of it all.

I am healthy and my body is a precise well-oiled machine---except for one thing.

As I grumbled my way through yesterday I thanked god that my body doesn’t work perfectly.

Because if it had, I wouldn’t have Jake.

And that I can’t imagine.

And I wonder if the feeling will ever go away?

Or will I feel that sharp stick monthly until menopause sets in?

But that my friends is another post all together…

Love much,
xob

The Bus to Bergdorf's.......

I'm having afternoon tea with my dear friend W at Bergdorf's today......

It's one of my favorite things to do although I don't do it as frequently as I should....

I'm hoping that "tea" is code for "champagne" and I can almost smell the fresh baked scones as I sit here in my office.

I'm getting ready to leave and hope I've left myself enough time to get there because I'm taking the bus.....it's one of the best values in NYC ($2).

I usually take a book and catch up on my reading (something else I don't do as frequently as I should)....but maybe today I should work on an inspiring post for An Infertile Blonde......I know I owe you one.

At any rate, I must run......
Because this Infertile Blonde must go catch The Bus to Bergdorf's....

Love much,
xob

Biological clocks

Mine is ticking so loud I can barely sleep.

Love much,
xob

A Sign.....

As I walked to a meeting today I started to think about everything on my plate ---

Work, Helpusadopt.org, An Infertile Blonde, my second adoption, my life......

There's a lot going on.

It's all good.......

I'm giving it all I've got at the moment.

But what if its not enough?

Then I passed a construction site and saw this sign.......

It stopped me dead in my tracks.

I can give more......

and you can too.

Become your dream.......whatever that may be.

Love much,

xob

My heart is breaking.....

This weekend Jake told me he was ready to be a big brother.

Love much,
xob

I am still.......

It was touch and go for a few days.....

I've been distracted by work and just hadn't made the appointment.

But all is well.....

And I got my highlights done yesterday.

I still am An Infertile Blonde.....

Off to L's for cupcakes!

Love much,
xob

To my husband......

Thank you for everything.

Love much,
xob

Candyland……and My Friend L

My friend L lived in the house across from us in our old suburban neighborhood.

It still breaks my heart to think that it was just by chance that we ever met. What if she hadn’t moved in?

L and I became friends years before Jake arrived.

One of the most important things that you need to know about L is that she always had a fully stocked snack closet----yes closet---and it included a vast assortment of candy!

Not a cabinet.

Not a drawer.

But a closet.

We lived in a “Beaver Cleaver” neighborhood so I would usually find L’s back door open and would just walk in and make myself at home. I’d grab a perfectly chilled Diet Coke from the fridge and then see what treats awaited me in the snack closet.

And then of course I would call out to L to let her know I was there.

We’d hang out, talk, drink Diet Coke and eat Diet M&Ms (L’s secret code for peanut) ---

We used to have lunch together most weekdays and would email each other at 9:45 am wondering if it was too early to dive in.

There were frequent nights when I would look out the window to see if L’s lights were still on, call on the phone to check in and then run across the street in my pajamas to the snack closet for a fix.

God I miss those days.

When I moved to NYC L. gave me a monogrammed “snack bag” filled with treats.

Because she said my new neighbors might not have a snack closet.

It made me cry.

L has been known to suck the cream filling out of a Hostess cupcake with a straw……

This might be an urban legend that we just joke about……

I can’t even remember if she actually did it---but the fact is I wouldn’t put it past her!

L laughs at me for my new found health routine---no salt, no sugar and EXERCISE.

L calls me from the candy aisle in the grocery store just to check in.

L dreams of the day that Dunkin Donuts delivers to her house.

And the funniest thing is that L has the most amazing metabolism------you’d never guess she’s the original junk food junkie—she’s a perfect size 4!

So as I pack my bags for a visit to L’s house this weekend I know that I have to swing by CRUMBS for a dozen cupcakes.

Am pretty sure I would not be allowed in without them.

And I find myself dreaming of her snack closet (that has tripled in size since she moved) and the fact that I will be having cupcakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Love much,
xob

It's a Two Way Street

A great comment was recently made to my post of 1.23.09 “There are no rule books for this.”

And she’s absolutely right.

Short story: What happens to the “fertile” woman who gets pregnant and her “infertile” best friend disappears? Here is a link to the comment: FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN(scroll down to the last comment):
https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7209109634143071364&postID=2869609585857974079

While the pregnant woman acknowledges the uncomfortableness of the situation, she is still deeply hurt that her best friend just left----with no conversation. Nothing. And I have say I feel for her (the fertile woman) but I am not sure how to respond.

I have sat on my response for days.

There are so many things I want to say…..but where to start.

So I will do what I do best……I’m going to “wing it” .

I am not naïve. I understand that friendships don’t always last forever. But I don’t believe that they should end over the fertile/infertile issue. I believe the woman who wrote the post has every right to be severely hurt. I also agree that it would have been a very uncomfortable conversation but best friends should be able to work through that.

My friends know that I say this every day: Having children is hard---no matter how they come into this world. And we as women both infertile and fertile need to stick together and support each other for the courage and conviction it takes to make our way down our chosen road. Because in the end we are all mothers…..or godmothers…..or the best aunts ever!!!!

It’s not easy always do or say the right thing or take the high road. We’re not just talking about “biting your tongue” or telling someone you “like their haircut” we’re talking pregnancies, and infertile vs. fertile-----and for the infertile friend we’re talking about scraping the bottom of the emotional barrel. And that just plain sucks! But did the infertile friend think that you would put off getting pregnant until she had resolved her own infertility issues? Or, did she wish you to be infertile too? I cannot imagine either option to be true.

I think there are so many topics for which there never seem to be the right words: Death, Divorce, terminal illness, unemployment, bankruptcy, drugs and infertility. But why somehow does everyone manage with this list one way or another except for infertility????? This I don’t have an answer for but I sure wish I did. But I am going to do my part to change that.

I wonder why your infertile friend didn’t send you a card telling you she needed some time to find her way……I imagine it would have eased your pain? You would have understood and perhaps it would have eased you both into the uncomfortable conversation and cryfest? I speak with experience on this one.

If a card is not your style you could try the following:

Take the highest road possible, suck it up and be truly happy and supportive for your pregnant friend (because you really are) and let her enjoy being pregnancy----she deserves to.
If the highest road is not possible (and it might not be---because it IS REALLY HARD) then do something to COMMUNICATE----but do not disappear.

Leave a voicemail that you are so happy for her but in deep pain over your own issues. Let her know that your reaction is about you and not intended to detract from her happiness.
Send an email with a similar message

Send a smoke signal---ANYTHING----JUST COMMUNICATE with your friend. Somehow you MUST let them know that you need space. That you love them and can’t wait to be an aunt----but you are hurting.

My guess is that if addressed, this situation can bring friends even closer.

I also speak from the experience of having my heart stabbed with a fork (not literally).

I have had the mis-fortune to walk in both sets of shoes. I was pregnant (via IVF -- three times/three miscarriages) and I had a very close friend who went through many unsuccessful infertility treatments and was resigned to not having children.

When I first told her I was pregnant (2003) she said that she was “happy” for me but it was forced (that part was clear). And then she told me that if I ever wanted to come visit WITHOUT my child that I would be more than welcome in her house.

It was at that moment our friendship ended.

When she heard I miscarried she came back into my life like nothing had happened and I couldn’t believe it----I think she was actually happy that I was “back in her boat”.

When my friend did get pregnant in the summer of 2005 she emailed me the news. I never had the courage to address the situation because I really to this day cannot believe the conversation really happened and I can not believe that after all we’d been through she didn’t have the courage to pick up the phone.

But the conversation did happen. And she did send me the “announcement” email.

And I did not communicate.

And we are no longer friends.

One of the “big picture” objectives of Helpusadopt.org is to get the world comfortable with and talking about infertility and everything that is connected to it---like adoption---in the hopes that history doesn’t repeat itself down the road and that maybe, just maybe a few friendships will be saved.


Love much,
xob

My Journey To Become a Mother.....Part Four

January 2005

It was time to become parents.

We were terrified.

We felt all alone.

Even those who loved us most couldn’t help us or make this any easier.

There were so many uncertainties and no guarantees.

We could only feel secure in knowing that the lawyer we chose was quite capable, an adoptive parent himself who had been doing this for over 20 years.

Our adoption was going to cost approximately (including travel etc..) $40,000 (after tax dollars).

Costs:
Our lawyer, home study, social worker visits, birthmother’s lawyer, birthmother’s monthly expenses, birthmother’s medical expenses, birthmother’s counseling, airline tickets (at a moments notice), hotel, car rental.

We spent the next 75 days doing paperwork: financial paperwork, criminal background check, child abuse clearance, a full day seminar with a home study group, a social worker visited our house several times, we both had physicals, and we assembled our profile “book” to be sent out to birth mothers.

April 1 our book started going out.
One week no calls.
Two weeks go by no calls, three, four, five, six...
Every time the phone rings we jump.
At nine weeks a birth mother chose us. We had a conference call. We liked her. We decided to move forward with the match. She went to the doctor, heard the heart beat again and changed her mind.

Two weeks later another birthmother chose us. We had a conference call. We decided to move forward. Then we were given some additional information about the situation and decided not to pursue this situation.

We kept waiting. On September 14th we got the call. You’ve been chosen and her due date is November 7th—Kipp’s birthday. The sign we’d been wanting. She was having a boy and was due in 6 weeks.

We had the conference call.
We arranged to go meet the birthmother two weeks later.
We met her.
We liked her. She liked us.
We created a nursery.
We found nurses for when we came home---neither of us took a maternity/paternity leave since we knew we would have to be away for 2-3 weeks.
We stayed in touch with the birthmother.
We packed our bags.
We got the call the morning of October 29th.
We were able to get on a flight that left Philadelphia in 2 ½ hours.
A friend gave us a ride to the airport.
We arrived and rented a car.
We drove an hour to the hospital.
I was in the delivery room.
Our son was born.
We called the baby store and had them ship up the car seat and porta crib---the thought of traveling with these items and no baby yet was more than we could bear.
We stayed in the hospital for two nights.
The birth mother had 48 hours after his birth to change her mind.
We were all discharged and went to our hotel with Jake.
We lived in this hotel for three weeks while the legal work for both Maine and Pennsylvania was completed.
We couldn’t leave state lines for three weeks.
We rented our car for three weeks.
We had a dog sitter at home for three weeks.
We did laundry in communal coin-operated machines for three weeks.
Kipp’s company gave him three weeks leave with pay.
My clients were very kind while I was away.
We got a call one November afternoon telling us that we could come home.
We called the airline and were on a flight 1 ½ hours later.
We flew back to Philadelphia and we were home.

It took 46 months to have our first child.

Love much.
xob

My filing cabinet

It arrived the first week of December.

A hand-me-down from a friend.

It was so nice of her to think of me.

And we both knew the timing was terrible but she was moving.

I had the option to say no but didn't.

And most of the time it doesn't bother me.

But when people come over I see the "hopefulness" in their eyes and I have to explain.

I have to explain that just because there is a bassinet in the dining room there is no baby news.

And then I make them laugh because the bassinet has become a wonderful filing cabinet and is overflowing with files and mailing supplies for Helpusadopt.org.

We share an awkward laugh knowing the reality of the situation.......

And I say a silent prayer that someday......hopefully soon.....it will hold a sleeping baby.

Love much,
xob

It's not easy being green.....

It's ok.

Even I need a break from all the infertility talk. So I'll pick up next week where we left off.

Sometimes it's even hard for me to read "my story" again.

Sometimes I can't even believe I am still standing.

But I digress....

The point of today's post is to talk about how happy I am that it's OK to wear sequins during the day! This shirt is so ridiculous, so over the top and I love it.

Jake told me I was his "sparkly mommy" this morning.....

Who could ask for anything more.

Love much,

xob

My Journey to Become a Mother......Part Three

2004
4th cycle
We incurred the same cost plus $4,000 for acupuncture. We followed the same drug/injection protocol. There was a retrieval and transfer, just as before.
Two weeks later: Negative pregnancy test.
New development: Did produce enough good fertilized eggs for a frozen cycle.

5th cycle
I continued with acupuncture $4,000. Having a frozen cycle of eggs saves on both the doctors fee, lab charges and drugs. This time the cost was only $8,000 and slightly less invasive.
No retrieval necessary. Only a transfer.
Two weeks later: Positive pregnancy test.
Miscarried at 10 weeks. December 23rd 2004.

Total cost: $82,000 (after tax dollars)
We drained our savings.
We had just enough money left for an adoption.
It was time to become a mother.

Love much,
xob

My Journey to Become a Mother......Part Two

2nd cycle
We tried again 6 weeks later. We incurred the same cost. We followed the same drug/injection protocol. There was a retrieval and transfer, just as before.
Two weeks later: Negative pregnancy test.


3rd cycle
We took some time to unwind and tried again a few months later. We incurred the same cost. We followed the same drug/injection protocol. There was a retrieval and transfer, just as before.

Two weeks later: Positive pregnancy test. I was pregnant and the due date was my father’s birthday.

We had a miscarriage at 12 weeks the day before my 35th birthday.

Life was not turning out as I had imagined.

Love much,
xob

My Journey to Become a Mother......Part One

This is my story....

2002
After a year of trying to get pregnant at age 32, I asked my OBGYN if I should go see a fertility specialist. His answer was no. “Just relax and give it some time, maybe in another year if nothing happens,” he said. I went to the specialist anyway and it’s a good thing I did. Our infertility issues were so complicated that we skipped the use of oral stimulant drugs and inseminations and went straight to In Vitro Fertilization (IVF). We chose our infertility doctor by reputation. We had heard that he was aggressive in his practices and had a high rate of pregnancy, the fact that his office was two miles away would prove to be convenient when I started to have daily appointments/bloodwork/ultrasounds, sometimes five days in a row.

2003
1st cycle
Our first cycle cost $16,500 (Doctors fee $7,500, Lab fee $4,000, Drugs $5,000). Our insurance covered nothing.
The drugs (hormones and stimulants) gave me panic attacks.
The small shots (that Kipp administered) in my thighs gave me bruises.
The big shots (that Kipp administered) in the back of my hips made it hard to move and hard to stay still.
There were countless doctor visits, ultrasounds and blood work.
Once I was “stimulated” and had produced enough eggs, there was an “egg retrieval,” a surgical process.
The eggs were then fertilized and monitored in the lab. Not all of the fertilized eggs survive; the ones that do are transferred back inside. I was sent home for 24 hours of bed rest.
Two weeks later: Positive pregnancy test.
The next week we had an ultrasound and a due date.
A few weeks later we had a heartbeat.
At 12 weeks I was considered a “normal pregnant woman” and had seemingly cleared the danger zone.
We had a miscarriage at 14 weeks. Everyone knew.
To be continued......

Love much,
xob

Fishin' Nuggets

Otherwise known to you and me as fish sticks.

Tonight he ate four frozen "fishin' nuggets" for dinner.

I couldn't persuade him to warm them up.

It was v. reminiscent of the camouflage fiasco.

But I do love my son for marching to his own drum.

Love much,
xob

Another little fact about me.....

I still tear up when I think about the years leading up to Jake and his arrival into our lives.
Not a day goes by when I don't count my blessings.....

Love much,
xob

A little known fact about me.....

This afternoon we took Jake to a birthday party.

I always get a funny feeling in my stomach when it's cake time because I can not sing the song "Happy Birthday" to a child (any child) without tearing up.

I never realized what a poignant song it is and how truly significant it is to celebrate the birthday of a child ------ until I wanted what I couldn't have.

I thought it was just a one time occurrence at Jake's first birthday party----since it had been such an emotional journey.

But it didn't stop there.

It happens at every birthday party we go to.

So if we are ever together at a child's birthday party and it's cake time.....you'll have to pardon me as I cry my way through the song.

I'll try to stand in the back.

Love much,
xob

Almost an Elephant.....

This month I am entering my 20th month of "pregnancy" as we pursue our second adoption.

Some people don't get it when I say I am "20 months pregnant" and immediately look down at my flat stomach with a puzzled look on their face.

I am not trying to confuse -- only trying to put the adoption time frame into perspective.

According to the books, an elephant's gestation period lasts about 22 months and is the longest gestation period of any mammal -----apparently these researchers have yet to meet the "adoptive mother".

At this point, I am going to surpass the elephant's 22 months. And I do believe my ankles are beginning to swell.....

Love much,
xob

I've been there......

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Three friends having a drink.

Two friends start talking about having babies.

One friend wishing she wasn't part of the conversation.

Two friends start talking about their fears of actually being pregnant and then delivering their babies.

One friend wishing she could relate.

One friend thinking her fear is that she would never become pregnant. One friend hoping her silence didn't make her friends uncomfortable.

Now four+ years later my fears have shifted. I would be terrified if I ever "miraculously" became pregnant. My body has rejected that idea three times and I would never want to live through another miscarriage.

Plus, this infertile blonde learned that the rules of biology are not what define motherhood.

Love much,
xob

Oh My Jake......

One of the funny things about a three year old is that they really start to form their own opinions and become almost impossible to deal with when they have their mind set on something. Hmmmmmm........sound familiar? I wonder where he gets it?????

This morning as I was getting him dressed in his camouflage cargo pants Jake decided that the white shirt I had chosen to go with them "did not match" and he opened his dresser to pick out a camouflage waffle henley----"look mommy, this matches."

I can't fault him because it is indeed "a match" nor could I persuade him to change.

So my son has gone out for the day in head to toe camouflage that clearly does not match. I am sure more than one person will wonder "Who dressed that child????" Oh well, at least I didn't put him in his orange fleece.


Love much,
xob

My love affair with make up

I do believe it was 1994 and I was in NYC for the day with friends. We went to Bendel's and I was instantly drawn to a make up counter because the sales person told me it was relatively new and only available at Bendel's. The line was created by a spectacular woman named Trish McEvoy and I became a loyal devotee.

15 years later, I am still a devoted fan as are millions of other women because Trish McEvoy has taken the beauty world by storm!

But something has recently changed in our relationship---all of a sudden it's not so one-sided! I am truly humbled and honored that Trish and her team have become fans of Helpusaodpt.org ---I mean how lucky can a girl get?????

I was recently invited to a meeting at the Trish McEvoy offices and had the best time! First of all they are all so glamorous and truly nice! Second, they made me feel like a queen! I am a new woman outfitted with all new make up, one of their signature planners, two new yummy fragrances and a ton of my favorite candles ever!!!!!

To my new found friends at Trish McEvoy ---Thank you for believing in Helpusaodpt.org and I look forward to what the future holds! And thank you for helping me hide the dark circles under my eyes......

I am forever grateful for both.

And to my friends and readers---Please visit your local Trish McEvoy counter and tell them that An Infertile Blonde from Helpusaodpt.org sent you----and tell them to tell Trish.

Love much,
xob

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