After our third round of Clomid my blood work came back negative for ovulation. This was kind of a shock because my basal body temperature chart showed a temperature shift. What I learned was that the temperature shift was very short, indicating that if anything did occur, it would not result in a sustained pregnancy.
We had already talked about our next course of action should we face this reality. We will begin the process to adopt an older child. Honestly, it feels so good to put the uncertainty of each month behind us. It is an emotional roller coaster filled with day dreams, impatience, disappointment, hope and resolve, just to name a few.
In typical H fashion, I began in-depth research on adoption. I kept coming up across the topic of mourning infertility in an effort to move on to the next phase. Ok, I got it, I was sad about our situation but I was also excited to move on to the next steps to grow our family. No point in dwelling on it. I am already day dreaming about bedtime stories with two kiddos cuddled up in my lap. Can’t wait! So excited!!
That weekend, we decided to take little man to Grant’s Farm to feed goats and take a tram ride. We decided to take B’s diaper backpack instead of my giant purse. We hadn’t used the backpack in months. I went to update the necessities and pulled out a 9-month onesie and the tears just started to flow.
I hadn’t really thought about all the baby stuff I loved so much because it brought back memories of little man at that age. I hadn’t really thought about how great that phase is from 6 months to 1 year and how we wouldn’t see it again in our family. I hadn’t really thought about how I would have to go through all of our baby gear and decide what to do with it. I hadn’t taken the time to think about these things, to process them, bring them to the surface, cry, mourn and then move on. I had just wanted to move on.
The rest of the weekend I took the time to mourn. Consciously, intentionally mourn. And the idea of celebrating an adoption got that much sweeter.