Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Why I ate oreos for breakfast

...and, really, the worst part about eating oreos for breakfast on Sunday morning was that I just *just* purchased them from our local equivalent of Whole Foods. I had a variety of yummy and healthy options available, but instead I paid over $5.00 for a package of oreos. I did manage to stop myself after I devoured the first row.

A few weeks ago...

We discover, after an 11 month match with our surrogate, that her insurance added a surrogacy exclusion effective 1-1-10. We were crushed. The next day, I call a friend, who refers us to the adoption agency that she used to adopt her 2 beautiful boys. Within 24 hours, we were matched with a birthmom who lives 5 minutes away.

We met her, her boyfriend, and their daughter. We attended the doctor's visits, heard our baby's heartbeat, and felt her kick. The birthmom and the facilitator in California decided to devise a plan so that H (the birthmom) could make money off of this adoption. She will be flying to California to deliver. Because the adoption laws for interstate adoptions (ICPC) would never approve of 2 couples coming to CA to circumvent the laws of the state we both live in, it was recommended to H that she select a CA family. We are again, devastated.

Our homestudy is now complete, so we're leaning toward pursuing adoption (again). We actually have our profile being shown to several situations (hopefully) this week. If anything, it is in the hands of the adoption agency and hopefully is getting some visibility.

My heart is so broken. We're so angry that we were so hopeful and allowed ourselves to trust that this *must* be the baby that we were meant to have. All the failure, all the heartache, all the disappointment....it was all because of *this* baby. But, no, it was all for more heartache, more disappointment, and no baby.

I just want my arms to be filled. I want the dozens and dozens of baby girl outfits to disappear. I want to see a color other than pink. I want to erase the feeling of her kicking my hand or the sweet sound of her heart beating.

We will move on. We will pick up the pieces, once I can find them all, and put ourselves back together again. We will become parents. We will find the resources, the money, the woman who will make it happen. We will prevail.