Valentine's & Test Results

I realize it's been a bit since we've posted anything, so I will update with what little has been happening.

Last week Kevin and I had to get physicals. Part of these physicals involve a full blood count and an AIDS test. It's a strange thing taking a test that you absolutely know will be negative. You'd think I would be used to is after so many pregnancy tests, but it's a totally different story. There are still occasions when I have to have a pregnancy test at the doctor's office. I had to have one before my surgery, and even though I knew it would be negative, there is still this little spark of a maybe that happens. It's probably inevitable. Don't get me wrong, I am not hoping for a positive result. We long ago shut that door. It's just a strange thing to be tested for something and know that there is absolutely no chance of it being positive. I'm not making light of the severity of such a test for many people. I know it's a high stress situation and that not everyone gets the results they are hoping for. It's just nice that in a process that involves so much uncertainty and so much stress, there is one little thread I can hang onto and know that there is nothing to worry about.

Anyone who knows me well knows that there is one thing to stress about when it comes to the physical. You see, I don't do so well with blood draws. It's psychological and irrational, but I pass out just about every time. I've tried a number of tricks to help and while they help to varying degrees, I don't think I will ever be in a position to donate blood. I'm pretty sure the position one needs to be in to accomplish such a thing is in a chair and not laying on the floor, covered in cold sweat, looking even more pale than usual (yes, it is possible).

When it became clear that I was not going to become pregnant without some medical assistance, I had to have a fair amount of blood tests to check ovulation, hormone levels, and who knows what else. I still remember telling the nurse I didn't do so well and having her nod her head and ignore me. She wasn't able to ignore me as she tried to carry me across the hall to lay down and drink grape juice. Sucker.

Speaking of those times, it's rather impossible for me to not think about those months right now. It was 2 years ago, almost to the day, when we found out our final attempt was a bust. By that point we were out of money and our emotions were rubbed raw. Even though we had both decided that it wasn't going to work, having the finality of the situation right in front of us hit us harder than I thought it would.

I want to make something very clear. For us, adoption is not a second choice or a last resort. We could have kept trying procedures. We could have gotten more money and tried until we were successful. The fact of the matter is that going through all that was one of the worst times in our lives and we were more than happy to be done with it. It is physically, financially, and emotionally straining us more than we felt comfortable with. What we want is to be parents, not for me to be pregnant. What is difficult is having an option, no matter how much or little you want to pursue that option, taken away from you.

As we talked about it the other day I found myself imagining the child that would be here if the results came back differently that day. That child seems a total stranger to me, much more so than the little girl who is halfway across the world, sleeping in a crowded orphanage.