5+ Thoughts on Infertility and Adoption

We are in a strange place between infertility and adoption. Infertility has not left us, but we are not doing anything about it right now. Adoption has been decided upon, but we are not doing anything about it right now. In this in-between phase, several thoughts have been tumbling around in my head.

[I recently read a caution for bloggers to avoid publishing incomplete thoughts. I am warning you in advance: these thoughts are half-baked.]

• I think that God is wise to point us toward "paper pregnancy" rather than normal pregnancy. I am a nerd and actually enjoy paperwork. On the other hand, I do not enjoy medical procedures of any kind. Physical pain is not a particular favorite, either. So, paper pregnancy just might be the way to go. 
• The costs involved in adoption are staggering. A home study will be one of our first major expenses, costing around $4,000. I understand that labor and delivery costs just slightly more than that, but that's beside the point. The home study is only the beginning.
• We eagerly anticipate the day our child is placed in our arms. However, on or near that day, the placement fee will be due. Depending on the circumstances, the placement fee could be around $18,000. That is a lot of money. So, on one hand, we want the adoption process to go as quickly as possible. On the other hand, we need time to save and raise money. A lot of money. 
• I have been told to expect the final total to be around $30,000. Thirty thousand dollars. When I hear a number like that, I start to think, "Maybe we could have tried just a few more infertility treatments." Then I remember what infertility land was like. I hated it. I hated the procedures, the paralyzing thoughts, the illusions of control and lack thereof, the waiting. No part of me wants to go back to that.
• In some ways, the costs of infertility treatment and adoption may be comparable. For example, one round of IVF might cost $25,000, slightly less than adoption (I realize that treatments and various types of adoption have drastically different costs, so this is just an example). In another way, the costs are very different. With adoption, the majority of the expense is paid only when a child is placed in our arms. With infertility treatment, the costs may be small or they may stack up to $90,000 or more. We would have to pay for the treatment regardless of the outcome. So, we could have paid many thousands of dollars and still not end up with a child. To me, it felt like trying to fill a bucket that may or may not have a bottom. 

I know it's cliche, but I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone. My heart is heavy for the people I know still struggling through infertility treatments. This post is not meant to pressure anyone to stop treatments and pursue adoption. I think that adoption should not be pursued unless your heart is in it. If your heart is still in treatments, it's not time to adopt. My heart was not in treatments anymore. God seems to have pointed our hearts toward adoption at this time, but the agony of infertility does not quickly disappear. I believe that God used pain and struggle to change us. Eventually, we realized that adoption didn't feel like a back-up plan, but was instead an exciting option. I do not understand the methods, but I trust His plan.

This post is linked up with Amateur Nester's Infertility Linkup.

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

Today, I am linking up with the ladies at Like Mother, Like Daughter again for {pretty, happy, funny, real}. After being involved for just one week, I find myself looking for beauty, humor, and joy. If you could use a pick-me-up, try it.

{pretty}

Yesterday was a strange weather day. Stepping out of my office into the hot and muggy sunshine, I was surprised to hear thunder. A glance to the skies behind me revealed the stormy source. The line between clear, blue skies and dark storm clouds was stark. My fifteen-minute commute home started and ended in sunshine and blue skies. In between, buckets of water poured from the sky, limiting visibility and flooding the streets. Lightning flashed and thunder rattled my car. Then, it was sunny again. And beautiful. Storms like this remind me of the power, beauty, and mercy of God.

{happy}

The heat of summer makes me crave something cold and refreshing. Ice cream is usually on the top of the list, but fruit works, too. Last night, we did a late-night grocery run and stocked up on fruit and a few vegetables. My taste buds danced with anticipation.

{funny}

Check out this sign. Not the one in front; the one off to the side. It says, "LIVE MERMAID FOR PARTY." Pardon my ignorance, but what on earth does that mean? Who calls the number on a sign like that? I have driven by this sign for weeks and am still befuddled. A mermaid? For party? A bachelor party? Gross. A kid's birthday party? Creepy. I have so many questions.

{real}

We close on our house in twelve days. Bare shelves are becoming a common look for our apartment. Homeownership, here we come! [Yes, "homeownership" is a word; I looked it up.]

What is pretty, happy, funny, or real in your life?

This post was also linked with Essential Fridays Linkup and Little Friday Linkup.

Silence, Puppies, and Contentment

We almost bought a puppy this weekend. If not for the upcoming move, I think we would have. He was a playful little Morkie (Maltese/Yorkshire Terrier) at the pet store we shouldn't have visited. We have talked ourselves out of getting a dog for years. They are expensive. They are restrictive. They are dirty. They are a lot of work.

And yet, I think we will get a dog soon. Why? To take away the silence. To bring life into our home. To distract us and get us outside.

Sometimes silence is sweet. Other times, it reminds you of what is missing. My mom friends may wish for some of that silence. Don't. You wouldn't enjoy it for long. No noise unless you make it. No entertainment unless you find it. No living person or thing that needs you to get up in the morning. No giggles. No pitter patter. Just you. Trust me, you wouldn't enjoy it for long.

Silence belongs in certain phases of life. This is not one of them. Empty nesters have years of noise and activity to remember. After the chaos of wedding preparation, newlyweds enjoy the silence of just being alone together. Don't get me wrong, we still enjoy being together. We are best friends. But sometimes, the silence is deafening.

We can and do distract ourselves. I think some of our bad habits may be efforts to distract ourselves. At the end of the day, our home is silent. So, we should get a dog, right? I used to laugh at people who had dogs instead of children. Dogs are obviously NOT children. But, they are alive, they depend on you, they entertain you, and they make noise.

This post is not intended to make you feel sorry for me. Maybe it can remind us all to be content whatever the circumstances, whether noisy or silent. Maybe it can remind us that God is enough. We don't need God and kids or God and a puppy; we need the peace and satisfaction that only He can provide.

For my friends dealing with infertility, how have you coped with the silence? Have your furry friends been therapeutic? What verses have encouraged you?

This post was linked up with Amateur Nester, WFMW (Works For Me Wednesday), Winsome Wednesday, and Rich Faith Rising.