National Adoption Awareness Month 2017

I don’t necessarily consider myself a writer, but I would like to be. My issue is never “writer’s block,” but instead it’s that I have so much to say, but I don’t want it to be undervalued. November is National Adoption Awareness Month and as always there are hashtags to follow and post about on Instagram. But since I don’t feel like bombarding my faithful followers every single day with depressing posts, I’m writing it all on the blog again in one massive, totally avoidable (if you wish) post.

Firstly, I’m going to start out by sharing with you the thoughts of “Lifetime Healing LLC”
“I gave up a lot when I placed my son for adoption. Let’s not pretend that we don’t give up so much when we place. We miss opportunities to parent our flesh and blood, we miss the firsts, and the seconds, and he thousandths. I am so blessed with an open adoption… my visits and pictures and texts… I get the great privilege or peeking into his magical world but it is I NOT the same as being in the trenches all day every day. It is a strange thing to have a son, to give birth to a beautiful and perfect baby and then look at him and not know him. I don’t know how he likes his eggs or how he likes to be comforted when he is sick… I don’t know his bedtime routines or the names of his best friends. I don’t know his different laughs and I don’t know his fears… I don’t know how to be his mother. I gave that up when I placed my son for adoption. I gave that privilege to another. I believe that I made an educated and empowered choice to place… but with that comes the reality that I gave up a lot in the process.”

#Knit Together By Adoption

Big Picture—Adoption is a chance at a stable, normal life. It presents a child with both a father and a mother who have a stable home and jobs and can readily provide for the physical welfare of the child. Additionally, adoptive parents are able to give their full hearts to these children because may or may not have had the ability to produce their own, and therefore, their emotions can be just as strong as a biological connection, eventually.

Small Picture—my personal piece looks very much like the big picture in the grand scheme of things. Benjamin wasn’t placed because he “deserved better.” I would have been the best mother to him and given him the world. Please leave now if you think otherwise. Ben wouldn’t have had a father figure for at least a couple years of his life, although Zach would’ve happily become his father. I wasn’t financially ready because I went to school instead of getting a job because adoption was chosen for me so early in the pregnancy; they wanted me to be “normal” and go to college, so I gained the $7,000 debt instead of giving myself an opportunity to save for my little one.

Who Should Care—everyone needs to understand the different realities of adoption, and not get hung up on out of date myths because adoption touches almost everyone. Someone you know is either adopted or they know someone who is adopted. It’s a complex part of creating a family but the more educated and compassionate you are, the better we’ll all get along and understand one another.

Impact—adoption has destroyed my whole heart and soul. Honestly. You cannot take a child from its mother and expect her to be okay. You can sit there and raise a baby to think you’re its parents and it’ll be brainwashed into believing you, but you will destroy the mother in the process.

Support—I had no support when it counted. My child has love, and that’s all that matters to me.

Birth Family—Me and Andy have since gone our separate ways because adoption, teen pregnancy and domestic violence are just not what bonds people together. I am Ben's mother, Andy is his sperm donor. I have cared for my child since conception, and I take my role very seriously in Ben’s life. Andrew had an epiphany around Father’s Day 2017 (aka when Ben was 2) that he might have feelings for this child, and thereby began to feel his loss. To this day though, Andrew has made zero effort to visit Ben, hasn’t wanted pictures, and will only see Ben if his family makes the drive over the mountains to see him; Andrew is unwilling to drive the 3.5 hours unless I tag along, and I won’t because being in a car with him isn’t really all that safe.

Name Change—Benjamin was named by his adoptive parents. We called him sweet baby until around 4 hours after he was born and his parents told us the name he chose. His middle name is Andrew, unfortunately, as a tribute to Andrew. Gag. When we were writing out his birth certificate in the hospital, knowing Ann and Derek would have to rewrite it anyway in their names, we gave him the last name Franco. But that dissolved within three months to his family name.

Siblings—Ben has a little brother, 2 years younger than him, named Nathan who is also Mexican, which I LOVE. They’re more likely to keep some of the culture, and at least the language, alive because now there are two mexis.

 The Adoption Alphabet prompt (select letters only)

A: is for Adoption/Abuse/Abortion. When I became pregnant, abortion was thrown in my face by people I was heavily influenced by. Killing a freaking baby? What, because Andrew was a freaking rapist now I have to kill a baby? No. He may have had complete power over me in some things, but there was no way I would commit and abortion. It’s disgusting. So when parenting was taken away from my list of possibilities, Adoption became a saving grace. At least this baby will live. I will die, but he will live.

B: is for BIRTH. Pregnancy is a miracle. Giving birth is a miracle. I was so blessed with an uncomplicated pregnancy and birthing experience. I think it was one of those things where God decided since he was going to destroy me, at least the first part of the process would be splendid so I could fall in love with it even more before he was stolen. Yay.

C: is for CREATION. I created a perfect human being. I grew him on my own. I nurtured him every day. He grew because of me. He is alive because of me alone. And I created a family for a couple who couldn’t have their own children. I’m freaking powerful.

D: is for DESTRUCTIVE. Adoption sucked the life out of me. It has destroyed my will to live, my path for the future, my faith in God. And my heart. My heart is shattered.

E: is for EMERGENCY. A huge part of what makes this whole thing worse is that every one’s sage advice was that ‘you can have kids later!’ Tell that to the emergency room technician who had to give me a thorough ultrasound, and then left the room with the saddest look on her face. Or the doctor who followed to give me the news that baby Houston #2 had stopped growing 4 weeks previous; and then he couldn’t find the tissues when I started screaming at God. I’ve had two pregnancies since Ben. They’ve both failed. And then I almost died from uncontrollable hemorrhaging this last time. So yeah. I can totally have more babies. Thanks.   

      

F: is for FAILURE. My body. My faith. My ex. My life.

G: is for GRATITUDE. My baby has the coolest most loving dad on the planet. And since that’s the one thing I couldn’t guarantee him, I’m so grateful that he’s a daddy’s boy. Also, super grateful that they haven’t stopped sending me pix and letting me visit.

H: is for HOPE. I hope Ben learns the real me. And I hope he loves me by his own will. And I hope one day I can cry on his shoulder when he finally understands how deeply I love him. 

I: is for IDENTITY. Who am I to Ben? What will the tell him: the woman who gave him to mommy & daddy?, or a really close aunt/family friend? Does "birthmom" mean anything really?

J: is for JADED. Other synonyms are ‘deadened’ or ‘dulled’. AKA me and my outlook on life. 

K: is for KLEENEX. When you cry as much and as often as I do, you learn to not even rely on Kleenex because you just admit defeat so much quicker. 

T: is for THERAPY. It's so freaking useless, although I do like being in a group where every one totally and completely actually understands my emotions. 

YAY ADOPTION! 

Due Date #1

Today is Baby Houston #1's due date.

I didn't know what to expect emotionally, after all I lost this pregnancy at only 5 weeks; I only knew about it for a couple days. But I'm sad. I'm let down. Obviously depressed and angry. I feel like a failure. And I'm crazy jealous because two people I've worked with just had their babies in the past couple weeks.

So I did the only thing I know how to do to cope: retail therapy. I bought baby Houston #1 some booties and a blanket. Because I'm literally hoarding baby stuff in my old room at my mom's house. She always looks kinda bumbed at me when she sees that the pile keeps growing.

I don't know if we'll start trying again soon. I'm ready for a baby. But I'm not ready for more being let down, or worse, heartbreak and loss.

I'm dreaming of an Italian vacation for sunshine and gelato, or an escape to Hawaii to eat tons of pineapple and pina coladas.


/// Happy Birthday Houston #1 ///

Slides, Agua and So Many Smiles

My sweet baby is now two and a half and he's so much fun to hang out with. I was SO incredibly blessed to be able to go over the mountains this week to see him and Zach and I had the time of our lives!

BENJAMIN is a wild child! He loves to run around and go down slides. He loves to see himself in pictures. He can say Zach's name (not mine very eloquently) because they've been practicing teaching him who we are from our wedding announcement. And he really loves AGUA!

We started out by playing on his toy set in the back yard for an hour going up and down the slide and practicing saying "Ready? 1, 2, 3!" to which I would slide down and he would giggle up a storm. It was incredible. He was so happy interacting with me, which is really the first time he's done that on his own.

Then we went to go see daddy on the boat. I love that boat and all the fun we had on it. Derek started out by totally showing off his wake surfing skills while Ben watched with the biggest smile on his face. Then Zach took a thousand turns and he got it down by the end; besides swallowing all the river water, he had the biggest smile on his face too from the rush of it all. As the sun was setting, we ate some picnic food (because Ann is the best hostess ever!) and rode back, cruising to Ben's favorite songs that he danced to.

The next day, after we checked out from our hotel, we went on a walk along the river to a park for Ben to play on. Zach put Ben on the swings, and I got to go down the slides together. We definitely bonded, because at one point when I was tired out, he wouldn't go down the right slide unless I was on the left slide going down at the same time.

When I was six years old, I was introduced to the magic of Build-A-Bear! It became my absolute obsession, and my "allowance". If I got amazing marks on my piano lessons and helped around the house and maybe grades were involved too, Dad would take me to the farther away mall just to get a new Build-A-Bear. As we were at the mall right before traveling to see Ben, we walked by the store, and I HAD to go in. And then we ended up getting him a Chewbacca bear because that was my nickname growing up.

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I love that boy so freaking much. He is everything to me. He makes my heart so full and when I'm with him, I can almost forget. I wish he was mine still. I would do anything to make him mine again but it is so impossible it's heartbreaking. He gave me hugs and kisses. Like. Come on! There is nothing better than that, but it also stings so freaking bad because he'll completely forget about me until next time, and then we'll have to start over again.

Where Can I Turn For Peace?

I haven't given a talk in church for 5 years, and a lot has changed since I was 16, so I was so glad I got to go up to the pulpit today and share my experiences about finding peace in this turbulent world. I have to admit, that I honestly (and obviously) haven't found my peace yet with God, but I know where I can find it, and one day, when I'm ready, I'll reach out to Him and try.

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Emma Lou Thayne wrote some beautiful lyrics that turned into one heart-wrenching hymn, and they sound even more so when you’re not actually singing them.

Where is my solace When other sources cease to make me whole?

When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice, I draw myself apart, Searching my soul?

When my aching grows, When I languish, in my need to know, where can I run?

Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish? Who, who can understand?

Who could POSSIBLY understand?!

When I was 17 years old, I had a boyfriend who I loved so much. Nearing the end of high school, he began raping me, and within a month, I was pregnant. I was in a constant state of worry, anxiety, depression and every other bad thing you can think of when everyone turns against you and you’re already in a fragile state. I was excited to be a mother, it’s something I always wanted. But I had no support from my family or my boyfriend and his family. 

No one was there to make me whole. I had a wounded heart, anger and malice and I didn’t know where to run to calm my anguish. Who could possibly understand? Emma Lou Thayne continues her lyrics;

He, only One.

He answers privately, Reaches my reaching,

In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.

Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.

Constant he is and kind, Love without end.

Our Savior, our anchor, Jesus Christ. He is everything. Through the plan of salvation, and Christ’s atonement, we can turn to him for peace from every type of suffering because he is the one person who can understand. He has felt our pain, anguish, anger and afflictions.

As I was nearing the end of my first trimester of pregnancy, I was really digging for answers from God. I was putting so much faith in Him to help me as I stood alone in my trial. I wanted to be this baby’s mother so bad, but I knew I needed help. I had always assumed that parenting was what I would do, because I knew I didn’t want to lose him in adoption. But deep inside, I wanted this baby to have two parents who were so in love with each other, and who would be sealed to him. I wanted this for me and my boyfriend, assuming we could get married and eventually he could convert and we would all be sealed together. That was plan A. And if that wouldn’t happen, I guess I could I would try out Plan B, adoption. So one awful night, I went to God and begged him for the answer to the biggest question of my entire life; who will be my baby’s parents? I told him of my plan A, and immediately felt this horrible knot grow inside my stomach; so, naturally I burst into tears. I continued pleading with him, telling him I would be a selfless mother who would do anything for the welfare of this baby. The knot just grew tighter and tighter. I didn’t want to do adoption. I told Him that, I begged him to find me a Plan C, anything but losing my baby. And then came in a scripture into my head as I was praying: Luke 22: 41-44 “And kneeled down, and prayed, Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup (adoption) from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly.”

I decided to put my burdens in his hands, and through endless amounts of faith, I would follow through with whatever he told me was best for my baby. The next day, I had an impression to look up the LDS adoptions website, and much to my dismay, was immediately drawn to a perfect couple who matched all my specific criteria, and everything more. This was my answer. Heavenly Father directed me to my child’s parents. He directed my child away from me. He answered my prayers, too obviously to ignore. And since I promised Him in my prayer that I’d follow through with whatever he answered with, that day became the end of any peace.

Over the months and years since having to give Benjamin to his parents, I’ve constantly been looking around for peace. I fell away from the church because I was overcome with anguish and anger, all the time thinking in my head that there’s no way I can come here when the one time I truly prayed and trusted Heavenly Father, He broke my heart. I tried turning to find peace in my work, completely dedicating myself to the job and excelling at it; but work isn’t as fulfilling as being a mother. I tried to find peace in leaving my old relationship and trying new ones, but those too were not fulfilling. I felt completely and utterly stuck. I went to a therapist for a couple sessions, but I found no peace talking about my grief when I knew nothing would change, that I couldn’t undo the adoption.

A lot of the messages that I’ve studied the past two weeks spoke of how turning away from the transgressions and disobedience that brought you the unhappiness and then choosing to be righteous and follow Christ will help you find peace; but how can you find peace when you are suffering due to the misuse of agency by others? Where can you find peace when you’ve given it to God, and you still lost?

The answer? He, only one. Christ’s atonement is so complete. There are two parts of the atonement that we can use to find peace, and those are the redeeming power of the repentance process, and the renewing power of healing. And I want to focus on those two things.

When I was going through my trial, I was told by church leaders to go through the repentance process. In the back of my head, I was confused because the wrong that had been done wasn’t my choice, why should I feel guilty and have to say sorry to God? Then I was taught that the renewing power of the Atonement, and that that is what the leaders had meant, hopefully.

When we transgress, and lose our peace, if we allow the guilt to move us to humility, we can go to Heavenly Father and repent of our sins, promising we’ll never do it again, and be free of the burden. Christ gave his life to atone for the sins of all mankind. His was a great gift in behalf of all that would ever live upon the earth. For every sin we repent for, there can be various magnitudes of change of heart needed. President Spencer W Kimball taught: “To every forgiveness there is a condition. The plaster must be as wide as the sore. The fasting, the prayers, the humility must be equal to or greater than the sin.” I think that is so special and important. We will be able to find peace and ease our guilt and suffering if we draw near to God, learn of his commandments, and follow them more closely. Christ’s teachings are a message of peace and goodwill. If we study them, decipher the analogies and parables and truly take them to heart, we can change our whole perspective into a more peaceful one. Gordon B Hinckley said that “God is weaving his tapestry according to his own grand design. All flesh is in his hands. It is our responsibility and our opportunity to be at peace in our minds and in our hearts, and to know that he is God, that this is his work, and that he will not permit it to fail.” To make His atonement fully effective in our lives, we must strive to obey him and repent of our sins; or else the pain that he suffered for us will be in vain, until we do.

The healing, or renewing, process has been so special to me in this trial. When Christ suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane, the pains caused by others were included in the sacrifice. I ache knowing that all the things that I’ve felt, Christ had to feel too. He truly is my Savior and friend. In Doctrine & Covenants 19:16-18 it reads: “For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; but if they would not repent, they must suffer even as I; which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—“ Then later in verse 23; “Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me.”

When I met my husband, I’d been inactive for the better part of two years, and was still quite angry with God. I never expected to reactivate anytime soon, maybe just when I had kids because I wanted them to be raised in the gospel. But, one Sunday, we went to church together. And it felt SO good. I hadn’t had the Spirit as my constant companion for too long, but the meeting brought me to tears. Zach and I looked at each other when we got to the car, and we both agreed how good we felt, just so good all the way to our insides. We felt the peace and love of Christ in our hearts.

We now attend most Sundays, and take lessons from the Sister missionaries. When they first approached me about coming and “visiting” with us, I was wary; I knew their plan, I’d been a part of it before when I went on splits with them when I was a young woman. I didn’t know how Zach would take it, but worse, I was scared that they would soften my heart to God. It sounds silly that I should wish to keep my hardened heart, but it is so much simpler to be bitter than to attempt to accept my fate. Week after week, they began chipping away at me, and through their challenges to Zach, I was forced to also dive into the gospel with him so I could help him understand the teachings. Very quickly, I became passionate about hearing more from our Heavenly Father through the scriptures, and teaching Zach all the wonderful intricacies of this gospel. Gordon B Hinckley told of how: “Tragedy is around, yes. But… you can’t, you don’t build out of pessimism or cynicism. Do not despair. Do not give up. Walk with faith. The Lord’s plan is a plan of happiness. The way will be lighter, the worries will be fewer… if we cultivate a spirit of happiness.” If we earnestly try to.

 I know where I can find peace, I know I just have to reach out for it, and Christ will “reach my reaching”. He is our friend! When we let Christ into our hearts, and really get to be friends with him, we can have peace and happiness in our lives, despite trials that surely will come.  Our daily conversations with Heavenly Father can bring peace into our hearts and a joy into our lives.
One of the many names that we have for Jesus Christ is “Anchor”. There is a song, written by Jenny Phillips that speaks to me so deeply, and I wanted to share some of the lyrics with you, because I couldn’t write it better myself. “I feel like I’m drifting in a starless night. I’m barely holding on to the light. I close my eyes and try to find thee. Anchor me. Make me strong somehow when I start to lose thy path, hold on to me. I want to be done drifting, anchor me. I’m longing for the faith deep enough, that when the water pulls, I won’t move. I want to stay, forever faithful.” When we learn to rely on the Lord, and give it all to him, He will hold onto us, and through faith, we can trust in his plan; for surely He knows more than we do. 

“Constant He is and kind, love without end”. This line is where I have found the most peace for Ben. The answer to my prayer, though quite damaging to me, has proved to have given my sweet child so much love without end. Ben is so loved by so many people. He has wonderful parents; both Ben and I are so blessed to have them as family. He has Heavenly Father watching over him, a huge extended family only a call away, and two angel half-siblings waiting to meet him in heaven. And of course, I will love him with all of my heart every moment of every day. When I think about how beautiful and happy he is, I can’t help but smile along too, and know that since this is what God wanted me to do two and a half years ago, he wants it this way still today, as part of the plan of happiness for Ben’s life.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you… Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” John 14:27

I say these things, humbly, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Pin Cushion

The doctor said that once she hears that strong of a heartbeat at 8 weeks, the baby almost always is okay. Like it was almost unheard of for a baby to die after that, because that initial appointment tells them so much that they get such a clear picture of his health.

 

This road is full of needles. I'm so glad that I don't have a phobia of them because I'd be screwed otherwise. In the past two weeks, I've given at least 10 tubes of blood and been pricked 5 times (twice with IV catheters which SUCK) causing bruising on both arms so they have to keep alternating arms/veins. Oh and the sucked water bottles worth of blood out of me too. Sorry, that's gross, but it's true. I've been felt, examined and ultrasounded like crazy. 

I've been to the E.R. twice, the O.R. once, the doctors office a bazillion times and Ikea once. 

In the E.R. and prepping for the O.R. they kept saying that I was in such good spirits. The people at work today welcomed me back and said I looked great, all smiley and stuff. But urgh you guys I'm so not okay. Well technically I am, and physically I'm practically back to normal, just 8 pounds lighter because now that I don't have a baby to feed, I don't feel like eating. Just your average symptom of depression. My pants fit buttoned again which is fantastic. But everytime I look out the window, I see my little baby in his pot of flowers. And every time my stomach starts hurting, I immediately tell Zach "the baby doesn't like it" because my baby literally hated when I ate certain foods, but now it's just a stomach ache; no baby. 

It's great and all, really, I know how to fake this. I've had tons of practice. 

But then I have another doctor's appointment at an office that specializes in obstetrics so there's PREGNANT women EVERYWHERE and even worse, NEWBORNS. It sets me off you guys. I literally curled up in a ball on my husbands lap because we knew we were losing the baby but it hadn't happened yet. The sweet nurses' professionalism faltered because let's be honest, no one wants to bring anyone news like that, and it's hard watching people hurt. 

So then me and Zach went to Ikea yesterday. Should be safe, right? We're walking around the maze, looking for a fantastic new bed frame (with a head board, because I move too much at night and lose my pillow if I don't have a head board). And then there's the baby cribs. And there are couples looking at them with big bellies and big dreams that will actually get to come true for them. So we quickly run away with unshed tears in my eyes and sympathetic glances and back rubs from husband-bear. But the next section is the kid section. So now there are pregnant women, fresh babies, squishy babies and toddlers that are Ben's age walking around. On the outside, I'm running away as fast as I can. But on the inside, I'm falling to the floor, screaming. 

24/7 since that first day this all started, I'm on the floor, screaming and crying. If at any moment of the day, your thoughts wander to me, just picture me doing that, and you'll be right. I wake up every morning with some degree of swollen eyes from crying. 

I'd like to get back to the normal everyone thinks I'm at. Maybe I should stop faking it. But then I'd just cry more. I want to be at peace. I've been waiting for peace for 3 years.

Third Time's Still Not the Charm

They tell you to wait until you’re twelve weeks pregnant to announce, because the risk of miscarriage decreases greatly. I was so excited to write a beautiful blog post to discretely announce how all my pain of losing my sweet Benjamin and baby Houston was finally coming to a great conclusion of a new baby, Houston #2.

 

Thanks to Letterfolk for this amazing piece of creativity!

I’d grown so anxious waiting for a positive pregnancy test, that a couple months ago, Zach and I decided to stop trying. But then, after getting back from our honeymoon, we took a test with such doubt that I even told him, “ready to see some more negative?” And then it was positive. And we couldn’t believe it. We even took precautions to avoid pregnancy for this cycle. We looked at the test in complete disbelief.

But I still was in doubt. I didn’t want to get excited. God has taken two babies from me already. I know his style with me, so I refused to tell people about the news and just decided to continue existing until I actually knew it was real.

When I was eight weeks along, just 4 weeks ago, Zach and I went to see by OB and get an ultrasound. I was feeling better about this pregnancy because it had already lasted two weeks longer than Houston 1, and I had so many symptoms so I knew that I had plenty enough pregnancy hormones. Then there was baby Houston 2 was on the screen, tiny and perfect with a strong heartbeat. And I couldn’t believe it. My baby was real! The doctor was pleased with the ultrasound, and my blood work was great. We started getting excited and going to baby stores, even starting a registry and picking out Baby Shower invitations.

Then three and a half weeks later, something was wrong. I couldn’t get miscarriage out of my head. I was having these horrible dreams of miscarrying at work and my friends finding me in a pile of blood, weeping. I thought to myself, maybe I just miss Ben horribly, which is so true.

But then it all came true. I called my mom while I was at work, and told her I was bleeding, so she rushed me to the emergency room.

They kept asking me if I knew I was pregnant, if I had it even confirmed by a legitimate doctor (because apparently a married, 20-year-old who has a full time job and double insurance coverage still makes me an irresponsible child; their tone with me was disgusting.) I got admitted, sent to triage and waited. They poked and prodded and examined and ultrasounded the heck out of me. When the technician left, she had this face; you know the face, the one that says “she’s going to hate what I found out.”

I called my husband and told him where I was and he stayed on the phone until he had to go to work. We kept telling each other to not panic until we knew something real. He kept repeating it, willing it to come true. He googled about bleeding while being pregnant, and we couldn’t really find anything that related to my case.

Then the sweet doctor came in and sat on his stool with that same face. I held my breath. I was willing him to tell me I was wrong for coming in, that it was a waste because everything was going to be okay.

“After looking at your ultrasound pictures, along with your bleeding, we see every sign of miscarriage. The baby is sizing a little over eight weeks, and his heart isn’t functioning the way we expect it to.”

So that’s that. He’s not even dead yet, but I’m still miscarrying. Three days before I was about to be safe enough to announce. So we were discharged, we went home, and we waited for everything to pass.

I went to work the next two days because I wasn’t in pain. And then I started my weekend after that. We went to the doctor and got more ultrasounds, this time confirming that the baby’s heart hat stopped beating, and had not grown for four weeks. We listened to all of our options of what to do to get him out and chose a medication regiment so we could avoid surgery.

We went to the store, but the prescriptions wouldn’t be ready for another day. So we went home, and due course came instead.

I’ll keep this gross part simple—miscarriage, even just at 8 weeks, felt like the normal birthing process with contractions for an hour, no comfortable positions and lots of hospital smells. The only difference is no baby at the end of all of it.

Our pretty pot from Carpinitos and some flowers are
the perfect resting place for Baby Houston 2

Zach and I decided to get some soil and some flowers to plant for our sweet baby, and an hour after the miscarriage, with the pain medicine fully kicked in, we headed towards Fred Meyer. I stayed in the car (because I wasn’t wearing pants and I was tired of everything.) After a couple minutes I looked down and saw red.

 After a speedy trip home to get towels, I was back in the ER with severe hemorrhaging. When they realized it wasn’t stopping, even after I told them it wasn’t stopping (apparently they had to see for themselves), I was immediately prepped for surgery, and sent to the operating room for a D&C. My dad and my neighbor Nathan were able to come give me a priesthood blessing right before I had to go in. The OR was cold and so so big for just one little me and a 20 minute procedure. But I got on the bed and they put me out in less than 10 seconds. I like anesthesia. Who needs anxiety when you have anesthesia?

I woke up, they fed me ice and told me everything went well. All I feel now is pain from the breathing tube and less of a bloated feeling. I don’t remember much, just that everything was cold.

They say “third time’s a charm” but you have to remember how much God/Karma/Life hates me. How can I be expected to stay positive, to have hope, to endure losing three babies in two and a half years? My heart is completely shattered and my hope is gone and I don’t even want to try anymore. Because I can guarantee you that next time, God will take my baby away again, and again, and again. How can I watch addicts and people who don’t even want a baby conceive and deliver and keep their child when I’m sitting here suffering because God hates me? People keep announcing they’re pregnant, and showing their baby bumps, and showing off their newborns. And it’s KILLING ME. I’m literally dying inside.

The worst part is this: I thought, you know, maybe God won’t hate me so much if I started going back to church. So I went above and beyond, I’ve gone to church every week, participated, started reading the scriptures again, even taking lessons with the sister missionaries, studying Gospel Principles together, and we taught him some more church songs. Me and Zach are doing our part.

He literally hates me. He can’t just let me keep my pregnancy. That’s just too much apparently. It would make me happy, so He has to make sure it doesn’t come true.

Help me understand why everyone I know says I deserve to be a mother, and yet here I am, 20 years old, having lost 3 babies.

And now He's hurting Zach. And anyone who knows Zach knows that he doesn't deserve to feel this kind of pain.

///// I get to see Ben soon, hopefully within a month. For now, here is the cutest little woo of him fishing! 

Cooperation: Open Adoption Style

There is no running away from my adoption. There's no chance it'll undo itself. At this point, I've done all that I can to make the best of the situation. The thing is, when you have a baby with a guy who is bipolar on his good days and downright evil on his worst days, breaking up and never talking to him again doesn't actually work! Because I'm tied to him, I'm tied to the adoption, and even though I can be a big girl and suck it up, he's still demanding to get his way. 

I'm trying to go see my baby sometime this summer. It's been 4 months and that's one month too long. I'm desperate to get him back in my arms and see that ridiculously perfect smile. 

Andy and I made a deal about seeing Ben: I would see him every three months, and Andy would only see him once a year, and he would only do that with me (as one of my 4 times.) Unfortunately, since there are no actual binding contracts with openness, you kind of just hope that everyone does what they say they're going to do. Here's the thing, I'm doing my part and he just wants to destroy all of our agreements because he's had an epiphany: apparently he started caring/missing Ben. Just now. Three years too late. NOW he wants to be a family. NOW he wants to make it all right with me. NOW he wants to try again. He's demanding to see the baby by himself (which scares the hell out of me since he's the poster child of domestic violence) because he doesn't want to be around my husband; that's so immature that I can't even. And I can't do anything to protect my sweet baby except for trying to convince Ben's parents to be very, very watchful. 

It's legitimately driving me crazy. I need to protect Ben. Giving him to his adoptive parents was the ultimate protection from his abuser birthfather, but they're going to keep letting him see the baby; the same guy who wanted me to terminate the pregnancy for the entire duration of the pregnancy, the same guy who punched me for talking to my baby belly, the same guy who hit and kicked and screamed at me for being sad 'still' about losing my baby. The same guy who doesn't even tell people he had a son, because it brings him too much shame. 

My sweet baby. 

Come Fly With Me

Life has finally given me something amazing: TRAVEL. So it's safe to say I love Europe! And Frank Sinatra is soul food to me so I thought we'd dedicate the title to him. Thank you, dearest Frank for keeping me focused on editing for hours the past couple days.

These last two weeks have been incredible, filled with so much laughter, and fun experience with my sisters and family. You've probably seen a thousand pictures already but oh well here they are again.

I got to spend so much time with my nieces this trip and it felt SO good to be around them. I love these sweet babies so much, and I love being able to bond with them more. Kens and I got super close and even got to hang out all day together and play family in Arizona; which by the way is just as good as I've always imagined. I got to take her grocery shopping (aka judging the local Kroger store) and feed and change her and take a nap with her. It was so special.

Something else incredible was getting to go to so many new temples. We saw two in Europe: the London, England Temple where my oldest sister got sealed, and the Frankfurt, Germany Temple which has been under construction for two years. Then when we were in Arizona, I got to go through a Temple for the first time in Tuscon. It was such a beautiful experience, going through a silent tour and just feeling the spirit. The best part though was when Kens saw a painting of Mary riding a donkey and she made her animal noise. We were trying to shush her but laughing all at the same time. We also got to see the Gilbert Temple with Kens.

London was incredible, the ropes course we did in Germany was SO fun and so challenging (I literally cried I was so scared I was going to fall even though I totally had a harness on, oops) but VENICE was the best! We finally got to split up from the huge family group and go with just me and hubby and Jen and hubby #squadgoals. Everything was gorgeous. It was really hot and if any of you know me, you know I hate walking and meandering to different shops. But that's exactly what we did. And you know, I didn't hate it this time because I was constantly rewarded with pretty buildings to photograph and gelato. Guys, they aren't kidding about Italian gelato. I'm a chocoholic, and I love my Oreo's so I kept getting those flavors but then begging Zach to let me eat as much of his lemon gelato as I could. Because I could eat lemons all day, but that's less acceptable than lemon gelato. SO. GOOD.

We had a couple days after we got back from Europe to be somewhere else, and we really wanted to avoid home and work, so going to be with Jen and hubby and Kens seemed like the perfect option. So we went to Arizona. Also known as my favorite place in the whole world. I really want to move there. Zach really doesn't want to. SO my whole goal was to show him what our life could be like, the fun things we could do and the people we'd be surrounded by, and how good the church feels there. We drove by super cute houses that even we could afford, went to Top Golf and gave him pointers on how to improve his game, because we Steinhilbers are golfers after all so he needs to join us properly ;) we got to play volleyball for three hours with a great group of people from church, and play family with Kens all day. Saturday, we got to go to a baptism of  a family friend's son who just turned 8 and that was such a cool experience to show Zach.

Religion is super hard for me, because as you probably know, I think God has something against me. But showing it to Zach has made me turn my opinion around. When Krissy was getting sealed in London, Zach and I couldn't go in obviously, so we took my nieces to the visitor's center and watched some "I'm a Mormon" videos and one of Oliver Cowdrey. After we left, we took all the pamphlets we could find and studied those over the course of our vacation. Starting with the basics.
I love goals and everything, but the idea of getting the missionaries on him and "setting a date" for baptism is crazy to me. Conversion took me years even though I was already baptized at 8. And look how good that's been to me. Sometime faith fails you and I don't want Zach to rush into something for me, or even for him if it's just a spur of the moment belief. But I love the pace we're going at; honestly he's more into it than me, but answering his questions is getting into it. I was SO embarrassed that I forgot the last words to James 1:5, and didn't know the hymn number of I Need Thee Every Hour. These were things I was so proud of knowing since I excelled in seminary all four years and can play every song in the hymn book. So I know I have to get back into it.

SIDE NOTE: I got to photograph Kristine and Chris' wedding and the pictures are really beautiful and so is my cute website so I hope you'll go check it out here! It only take like two minutes to look at them. 

SECOND SIDE NOTE: I don't think I ever announced here but I bought my own domain, started a business Instagram and got my first official, real, organic follower turned client to book not one but 2 shoots with me! GUYS! MY DREAMS MIGHT ACTUALLY COME TRUE! 

Recognizable if you're as big of a Sherlock fan as I am

The dream squad

Zach and I at the London Temple

Venice being pretty

Venice being full of churches

Zach and I looking cute at Krissy's wedding reception

Another Child-less Mother's Day

It's May again. It's mother's day time again. It's another year of me being without my child(ren). It's a stupid holiday. I hate this holiday. It's a day that we either separate the lucky mothers and the unlucky non-mothers, or even worse, include them and say "one day, you'll be a mother too."

This year, Ben is two years old and thriving with his parents. He has new baby brother, Nathan, and is still obsessed with his daddy. On the outside, the look like the typical, perfect American Family. Except, I know their struggles. I know how hard mother's day was on her for the years before Ben came into her life. I was told of how how he always gave her something special on mother's day. Out of empathy or grief or maybe it was just desperate hope.

Because if you aren't a mother, but you want to be, it's a day of torture. Everything is a reminder of your body's failure, or the failure of keeping bad family/boyfriend's opinions out of your decision making; or it's God making a mockery of your deepest desperation. 

Because I have two children and nothing to show for it. My sweet baby Ben is 200 miles away from my grasp, my heart, my hugs and my undying love. My silent pleading with God for the past two and a half years has gone completely unanswered, except to hurt me further. And my baby Houston is even further away, safe in heaven instead of in my belly.

Two babies lost before I'm even 21. Is anyone else shaking their heads, completely dumbfounded by God/Karma/Life's lack of empathy? THROW ME A FREAKING BONE.

Last year, I was able to eat with my best friend at her favorite restaurant where she surprised me with tulips and a heart felt card filled with love and empathy. That day is the day I decided that I needed to stay in Seattle, and not move to Arizona quite yet; three months later I met my husband and started to find happiness. But the sting of should-be-motherhood quenches even that.

Please, hold your babies tighter for me.

And if you feel like crying: https://www.facebook.com/today/videos/10154664613372984/

This was my test and first picture of my would've-been-bump for baby houston.
I would've know the gender by now. I lost him at 6 weeks gestation,
shortly after these were taken.

Trying, Trying; and Trying

Trying- adjective: hard to endure.

 

I think there's a beauty in the fact that the verb trying usually coincides with the adjective trying.

I've had this post on my mind for months now, and I was waiting for the right time to announce it but that time hasn't come.

As a recap, when I became pregnant when I was 17, it was unplanned and very, very early into my sexual relations with my boyfriend. I knew about ovulation, I knew about birth control and prevention, but since I didn't want to be sexually active, and because of the stigma with my parents and my religion I knew I would not be able to fully protect myself from pregnancy without the guilt tripping and shaming- despite them knowing that I didn't even want sex. I knew I was only 17, I knew I was still a child and I knew I was worth more than to just be some fuckable girl (obviously boyfriend didn't see that.) But something really changed inside me when I found out I was pregnant. Not only was it a dream come true, but just a little early, it was something I knew I was going to put my whole heart into and fully realize that this is only a blessing and it would never be a bad thing.

When I met Zach, we had a lot of conversations about family and the future and having children and what love really means to me. I thought I knew what love was based off of how I felt towards my boyfriend, but when they put your child that you've grown inside of you after nine months on your chest, you realize that up to that day you had never known true love.

I've been desperate to have a baby since before Ben was even born because I knew that they were going to take him from me. I wanted to have another baby with Andrew, I wanted to take my birth control out and just get pregnant with anybody, and then when I met Zach I wanted to get married and start a family right away because I knew that he was the one- he'd be a phenomenal and fun loving dad, present in his children's lives; never cruel, and no loud yelling. He had a similar dream, and so we started to really talk about how we could make it all happen. We got engaged, planned a wedding, and got married, and still made time for each other despite each of us working 45 hour weeks on opposite schedules. We fell in love so quickly.

On my bad days, I would beg him to let me have a baby. He would try to reassure me that we could take out my birth control soon, we can try for a baby soon. He promised me that I would be a mother very very soon to a baby that no one could take from me. On the good days, I relished in all his love and attention and dreamed of seeing the world together and building a home IKEA would be proud of together- and then having babies. The dreams would go back and forth with my mood.

Finally the day came when I made the doctors appointment to get my IUD taken out. And we tried the first month and the next month and the next month. The depth of disappointment I felt as I took countless pregnancy tests after being a week late but still not pregnant is something I'll never be able to fully understand.

On February 8th, I finally got two blue lines I'd been begging for for 2 years. I was five weeks pregnant. My heart was shaking though- something inside me told me to not be excited. My brain and heart fighting for emotions, mixed with desperation, depression and hope. Maybe, just maybe all my dreams will come true, maybe this is finally a reality I can endure.

Due date- October 13th, 2017

Two days later, I went to the Urgent Care and got tested for the flu and for my pregnancy. Positive for both! The doctor gave me baby-safe medicines and told me to get my free flu shot next season (my bad- this was literally the one year I didn't get it.)

On Saturday I woke up, and saw blood. I was screaming in my head. No. Not me. Why me. Why is it always me. Why can't I just have a baby. I'm healthy. I want this more than anyone. I've worked to be worthy of this. And then the cramping pain started. And I knew I was miscarrying.

I didn't think it would hurt as bad as it did since I wasn't very far along. Yet it did, and it managed to crush my spirit and my dreams, and my sweet baby.

I fought for you

The hardest, it made me the strongest

I just can't stand to see you leaving

But heaven couldn't wait for you

So go on, go home

-Beyoncé (Heaven)

Life doesn't stop when you're grieving. Life keeps going, and not only does it keep going, it throws things in your face to show you just how unfortunate and unlucky you are and how blessed everybody else is. The same day that I started to miscarry my child was the day I had to go into a room of happy women to celebrate my bridal shower. I really wanted to enjoy it. I really wanted to focus on how amazing Zach is and how amazing we are together and all of our dreams together-but I'm sitting there in pain, crying because my baby is being crushed. I left work early the next day because the physical pain was unbearable. I've gotten really good at hiding my emotions, and dealing with the emotional pain that comes with losing a baby, so that part really surprised people when I told them, because they didn't even realize-I still looked "okay". I'm an expert on losing babies. Of course I'm "okay".

And so we kept trying and trying.

Nothing.

Oh, you're just a small bump unknown, you'll grow into your skin.

With a smile like hers and a dimple beneath your chin.

Finger nails the size of a half grain of rice,

And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide

'Cause you were just a small bump unborn for months then torn from life.

Maybe you were needed up there but we're still unaware as why.

-Ed Sheeran (Small Bump)

It is so hard to not be angry. It is so hard to not hate the two women (so far) that I know that just posted they're due in October. They don't know what it's like to have lost a baby, they haven't dealt with the agony I have, yet they get to have their pregnancy and their baby and I don't.

Don't get me wrong, I'm so excited that these two amazing people get to have children and I'm so excited to see how they develop and how they let their love change everything because babies are literally the best thing in the world. They'll be amazing mothers.

And I hate to be selfish, but damnit, it's my turn.
Trying. It's hard to endure. But my absolute desperation to create a little life with my sweet husband, to make him a father, to make our dreams come true is the reason I keep trying. Because I know, every disappointment and every negative test will be wiped from my memory the second my future baby is placed on my chest. It will all be worth it. It's just so hard to endure right now.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

You roll outta bed and down on your knees

And for a moment you can hardly breathe

Wondering, "Was [he] really here?

Is [he] standing in my room?"

No [he's] not, 'cause [he's] gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

-John Mayer (Dreaming with a Broken Heart)

Wedding Day

Our pictures from Naomi of my wedding day came yesterday and it was so fun to look at them.

After having dreamed and planned everything since I was 6 years old, it was so different to actually be engaged and have to actually put money into it; because we all know my dreams were too extravagant for my wallet. Vendors really take advantage of brides and grooms and overcharge for everything. Since the entire wedding came out of mostly my wallet, I really had to cut back on certain things me and Zach wanted and just tried to focus on the being married part instead of having a fancy wedding part. I got my gorgeous dress from A Closet Full of Dresses when I went down to Mesa last October, where both my sisters also got their dresses. Even though you're only at the wedding for 3 hours, I loved being able to feel like a bride longer than that by taking bridals back in January with Annie Ruby.

BEN was the one of the many highlights of the day. I hadn't heard from his parents for a week before the wedding and honestly was crying the whole ride up to the church thinking that they'd forgotten or were too busy. As my gorgeous sister and best friend helped me get my dress on, my mom came bursting in telling me Ben was there. I almost collapsed I was so happy! He'd just woken from a nap so he really didn't care for me, but by the end of the night, we were friends again. He was actually quite entertaining the whole time. He took a liking to my little niece who was quite curious about him, he played ran through the arch so many times I lost count, and so many people got to meet him and see just how incredible my sweet baby is.

Those precious moments where Ben interacts with me, especially just me and him one on one, I almost feel whole again. I am so broken, but this little boy just brings me all the joy one could ever have. Having my sister and her family there, plus my sweet husband and my beautiful baby boy and his parents, it's all I could ever ask for. I'm so grateful for everyone that came, even though it wasn't anything grand.

I LOVE BEING A HOUSTON