Pregnancy and Adoption

I know you thought I was done talking about adoption for a while. Sorry. I have more thoughts running around in my head that I want to share. I hope this makes some semblance of sense.

Another thing that really bothers me is when people tell potential adoptive couples, "Oh, you are doing it the easy way!" As if mountains of paperwork, months of preparation, invasive interviews, agonizing waits, and uncertainty upon uncertainty are easy. While I know pregnancy can be hard, it is not a fair statement to say that adopting is easier than carrying a child. Sure, there aren't any stretch marks (usually) nor is there an agonizing labor process to get the child here, but there are other things that are unique and difficult to adoption.

My thoughts center more on how the two processes are similar.

I was thinking about my pregnancy with Jace the other day and remembering some of the things I went through with him, and while doing so, it occurred to me that some of the same things have happened as we anticipate the arrival of our next child, despite my not being pregnant with her.

Some commonalities:

1) Sickness:

 Pregnancy story: When I was early in my pregnancy with Jace, Hallie and I traveled to Nauvoo for our Strobel family reunion (poor Dev couldn't come.) Some of you may remember this trip as the Trip of Lots of Throw-Up. Yes...we endured a whole lot of barfing on that trip. Well, it was easy to pass my own sickness off to the fact that everyone else seemed to have something too, but in reality, it was morning sickness.

Our family had some time slots to do some ordinances at the Nauvoo Temple one morning. There were only five spots if I remember right due to the summer season and lots of people wanting to attend the Temple during their time there, but I was one of the lucky ones who got a spot. I woke up feeling deathly ill, but decided to fake it and go anyway since it was a pretty great opportunity. No one knew that I was pregnant at this point, so I didn't want to let on that anything was wrong. Well, I went to do some initiatory ordinances with my Aunt Angela. Part way through, I just knew that I wasn't going to make it. I kept willing myself to not throw up, just make it a little while longer, focus on something else....

Well, lucky for me, I did end up making it....that is right up until I got into my dressing room to change my clothes. I got in and immediately knew I needed some help. I called out the door to my aunt that I needed a garbage can or something because I was going to throw up, RIGHT NOW. A kind little temple worker rushed over to my side and instead of bringing the garbage can right next to the check-in desk with her, she instead brought a little, tiny hand towel. A towel? What? I still don't understand. I will spare you the details of what happened next, but suffice it to say that it was not pretty, nor did the towel do a great job. Angela and I hurried out of there to avoid further embarrassment, but not before the little old lady gave me another tiny towel to take with me in case I had any incidents on the way out the door.

Adoption Story: I can't count the number of times I have felt physically ill during this process. I have not thrown up, yet the sickness is still real. The worst days were when I was under the impression that we would be assigned to MF, yet nothing happened. The worst was not hearing anything. The entire day would go by with this huge anticipation that something was going to happen, and then we wouldn't hear anything. My stomach would be in knots, my head pounding. The best I could do is lay down and hope to feel better. Like morning sickness, there was no other option than to just wait it out. Like morning sickness, some days are better than others. Like morning sickness, no one can quite understand it unless they've been there, too.

Although I haven't had quite as great of a story as throwing up in the Nauvoo Temple, the sickness has nevertheless been just as real and just as "this-is-so-not-fun."

2) Under-eating:

At the beginning of my pregnancies particularly, I have a hard time eating a lot, because "nothing sounds good" or I develop an aversion to something after I get sick eating it. So, instead I just don't eat a lot during the first trimester or so.

Similarly, the craziness that is the adoption process has sometimes been so stressful and hard that I again find myself not eating. The same excuse can apply that, "nothing sounds good!" or that I don't feel well and eating isn't going to help.

Darn that stress stuff. It's weird, because it causes under-eating sometimes, but more often (darn it!), it seems to cause over-eating. Rough. See below.

3) Over-eating: 


On the flip side, pregnancy (after the first trimester or so) is a time when I find that I throw caution to the wind when it comes to eating healthy and maintaining a balanced diet. You are supposed to gain weight, after all. You rationalize every treat, every extra serving, those 3 desserts....because after all "I'm pregnant! I'm supposed to be gaining weight!"

Well- I have found that I sometimes use this same logic with the adoption process. Faulty thinking, I know, but I rationalize unhealthy choices still with, "I am stressed. This has been such a hard day. Everything is so uncertain. I deserve it!"

4) Emotional instability: (This is probably the number one common denominator, right here!)

Pregnancy story: Okay, this is really a post-pregnancy story, but it still applies. It illustrates exactly how I was/could be during any given time during pregnancy. After I had Jace, Devin went home to spend the night with Hallie. I woke up many a time during the night (let's just say those hospital beds could surely be made more comfortable!) and by morning, I was a wreck. The nurse for the day came in to make her morning rounds at 7 or so, and with her she brought a student who was shadowing her. All fine and dandy, except that he was male, and I was sitting in the bed bawling my eyes out. He was supposed to be doing the check on me, but as he came in and saw my condition, he promptly halted in his tracks and turned with a look of bewilderment toward the nurse. I am sure he was wracking his brain for which class taught him how to deal with emotionally crazy, unstable, hormonal women. Eeeek. I feel bad for him now, just thinking about it. The other nurse promptly took over and asked what me how I was doing, what was going on, etc. I could only manage through my sobs to say that I wasn't really even sure why I was crying. Nevertheless, I was crying and I really wanted to do nothing but cry.

Adoption story: There have been times just like I described above in this process. More than I can count, in fact. I remember one night just laying in bed, sobbing uncontrollably. My poor husband is akin to the male nurse, except that he is a little more accustomed to the craziness that we call female emotions. He is just as often confused as to why I am crying, but then again, so am I. I can't really pin point it sometimes. It's just the whole situation, if that even makes sense. I know it doesn't...but just work with me here. It might be because I miss MF. It might be because I have no control over this process. It might be because she will be spending another Christmas without us. It might be because we might miss her birthday. It might be because she is mine, and yet right now, she is not mine.

There are times in this process, just like during pregnancy, that the only solution I have is to cry, even though I can't even pinpoint exactly why I am crying. Devin can't quite grasp it. Neither can I. Chalk it up to pregnancy hormones...or in this case adoption hormones.