Hawaiian Honeymoon (1 Year Later)

Zach and I never officially went on a honeymoon last year; our trip to Europe was with my family 100% of the time. So I booked tickets to Oahu back in January and happened to pick the best week to leave for both of our jobs! We got to avoid crazy busy weeks.

The trip started off quite crazy though. We left Seattle at 5:50am and arrived in Oakland, just to find out that our flight to Oahu was moved up an entire hour, AND had left 10 minutes early. Basically, we missed the flight. I had several freak out moments when no one was being helpful and all the Hawaiian Air staff were gone from the airport until 5pm that night for the next flight. While I was on hold with customer service, we had to book new tickets to get there that day, since we had an AirBnB and car payed for and I wasn't about to waste money. After a lovely chat with Hawaiian Air, he finally conceded to a full refund!

While we were able to do a lot of the things we wanted, I got super sick the first day, practically feinted, and then was just completely exhausted for the rest of the trip, taking naps every day, and struggling to eat. And then Zach weighs to much to ride the horses, which is ridiculous since he really isn't that big. Although if you saw my Instagram, he did let me post a picture of him calling him a beached whale.

Laie, Hawaii Temple

The grounds were SO beautiful. Last time I was here 8 years ago, it was closed for renovation. I'm so glad we went back. We also visited the Polynesian Culture Center (thanks Krissy) which was amusing, but we didn't get to stay for the show because we were so tired. We go to bed here at 7-8p, and the show didn't start till 10p Seattle time, so we left early. 

Pearl Harbor Memorial

I got really sick this day, and the attractions cost SO MUCH MONEY so we did everything we possibly could that was free. There were two small walk-through museums, and I'm so grateful for the memory refresher on how tragic everything was surrounding WWII. 

My grandpa Steinhilber fought in the war, but over in Europe, in Battle of the Bulge, and with Patton. History has always been interesting to me, but a foreign concept since I've never been affected by war. Learning that my relatives took part and their impact always astounds me. 

Dole Pineapple Plantation

My favorite fruit is pineapple. And I will use any excuse to go on a chu-chu-train. 

Waimea Falls

My mom and dad went here on their honeymoon, so I really wanted to go too. Luckily the walk/hike was only 1.5 miles so I was actually able to do it, even being sick. 

Over all, it was a good trip. It was nice being with each other and not having to work. It was nice to relax and not feel guilty about finishing the kitchen or staying up too late. 

Infertility After Adoption: Mother's Day

It’s much easier to put the pain of this day aside when you choose to act like it isn’t happening. This is my third Mother’s Day; 3rd year without Ben, 1st year without all three of my Houston babies.
Infertility after adoption has been devastating. It makes me love the babies that surround me even more. It makes the sicknesses of pregnancy worth it in the hopes a baby will come out of it at the end. Somehow the world keeps spinning, and I along with it.

Just a couple weeks ago, it was National Infertility Awareness Week. And that whole week struck me much harder than it ever has, since I've now realized this is a real thing I'm dealing with. 

By some random chance, I found a woman on Instagram who battled with infertility and wrote some amazing things about her journey that resonate so much, and I want to share them. Her handle is @Huntersofhappiness

"One day I realized that the people that make insensitive comments did not realize that this was a real medical problem with a diagnosis and a treatment. They were unaware about what infertility really is and what it entails or didn't know what to say, so they said something silly."

I've blocked people on social media simply because of the things they say, thinking they are encouraging. My body is unique. And right now, it's broken and they can't figure out why. I am not your cousins sister's husband's ex-girlfriend who's going through the exact same thing. My infertility is mine and my husbands. It's our unique genes, my unique eggs and uterus. My story will never be the same as anyone else's. So please, for the love of all things sane, do not tell me some random advice because it may have worked for "Suzy."

"Hope is happiness. I remember the pain of our 2nd failed (pregnancy). It was crushing. Everything had gone perfectly. We had so much HOPE that it would work. I was angry and so sad. I remember thinking that the pain was so intense because I had been so hopeful. It was then that I decided the next month I would have no hope. I would plan or it to fail and then it wouldn't be as painful when it did. So that next month I did it. I had zero hope and got a negative result again.  That month, I was miserable and so incredibly unhappy. I realized that hope is happiness. Sure, hope might make the day that your hope is crushed a little more painful, but the whole rest of the month was so much happier. We have to have hope."

This hit me so hard. After losing Houston one, I was just confused. When we got pregnant with Houston 2, and saw his heartbeat and watched him on the ultrasound, I was SO happy. He was right on track with my pregnancy with Ben, so I knew this would happen then. And then he died, and it was one of the worst pains I've ever felt. I hated everything in life. I hated Ben for leaving me. I hated Zach for not being able to save the baby. I hated myself so freaking much, I can't even describe it. I was so done with even trying for a baby, because all we ever did was try and try and fail and fail and it was shredding me to pieces. 
When we got pregnant with Houston 3, I was more depressed than ever. I told myself "don't get attached, don't take pictures. It's going to die. That's what happens." I told myself that for weeks. I tried to never get excited. And then when he died on New Year's day in one of my favorite restaurants, the agony was just as real. 
I've done it both ways, hopeful, and not hopeful. In the end the baby always dies. But how many more good days could there have been had I been happier, rather than staying under my rain cloud? 

"Many hardships in life are an event. They happen, they are devastating, then you begin the grieving process; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and eventually, acceptance. When you live with infertility, you go through the process every month, and often times, you don't even have time to get all the way through before your next cycle comes."

You might find me on a good day. You'll usually find me on a day where I'm faking it really well. Then there are some days where I can't even try. The pain is so real. Losing 4 children? How can I be expected to survive this? How can I ever accept it when I know that no peace can be found without reclamation, aka a new baby? I know what could potentially be the ultimate fix, and I'm destroying myself further to get to it. 

"I'm sorry. I am asked on a pretty regular basis what people can say or do to help, comfort and support friends or family members going through infertility. The short answer is to say I'm sorry: I'm sorry you're going through this, I'm sorry you have to experience this pain and heartache, I'm sorry your baby is not in your arms, I'm sorry that this totally isn't fair.

It's simple but it's powerful. It validates the hardship of infertility while also expressing your sympathies. To those who have never experienced infertility themselves, they often have no clue what to say. I love you doesn't have to be a grand gesture. So many amazing friends and family sent me flowers, randomly dropped off care packages, gave me a thoughtful piece of jewelry, sent a card, a simple text or phone call."

When I lost Ben, my front door was heart-attacked by the LDS Singles ward, people I didn't even know but who knew about me thanks to my brother in law. I received so many cookies. They were so good, and they filled me up for days. And I was so grateful to those people. Receiving cookies literally made my day, that's how low I was. There were also a lot of flowers. And one amazing woman, Andrea, gave me a card too. It was one you would find under the loss/grief section of Hallmark. The words, though generated to sympathize with death, happened to be the perfect description for what I was going through. I read that card a thousand times, thinking to myself, "finally, someone sees that this adoption has completely destroyed me. It's like he died." The human mind is not equip to deal with adoption. It sees it as infant loss. What once was there is now gone. And even when I see him now, it is not something my brain can compute. He is not the 27 hours old baby I held in my arms. He's this totally different person who is nothing like me. He is their child, because mine died after I walked out of that hospital. 
If that seems too cruel of me to say, I hope you never have to experience this pain. It is life-altering. It's never ending. 

Motherhood is near to divinity. 
I am a mother of 4 beautiful children. One day, I'll get my 3 Houston's back. But not the child who's loss continues to rip at my soul every day.