Negative Pregnancy Tests

This may be TMI for some of you, so if the title makes you uncomfortable, you may want to skip this entry.

Yesterday I could feel a UTI coming on, so I called the doctor. My regular doctor was booked for the next 2 weeks, so I decided to go to an urgent care clinic instead. I did the usual pee-in-cup test and then waited around to get a prescription. When the doctor came in, she said that my suspicions about the infection were correct and that the pregnancy text came back negative. Pregnancy test? Didn’t remember asking for that.

I laughed and explained that I could have told her that.

“Have you been trying to conceive?” she asked.

"If you call three years of unprotected hanky-panky trying, I guess so,” I replied.

I explained a little about my situation; that we valiantly tried, found out it’s highly unlikely, and that we are now pursuing adoption.

She then went on for the next 15 minutes telling me that it could still happen someday. She told me stories of people she knows who tried for years and then one day “it” just happened. She threw in a few, “but families are made all different kinds of ways.” But she’d always go back to trying to give me hope that I could get pregnant.

I know she meant well. But after trying so hard to get pregnant, and then deciding adoption is the path to be on, the thought of trying to get pregnant makes me cringe. Yes, I do want to experience what it’s like to grow another human being inside of me. And I definitely want to be a mommy. But trying to conceive for so long definitely takes a toll—mentally, physically, emotionally. It’s like running a marathon and then finding out you took a wrong turn and now have to go run it all over again—but you have no idea where you made the wrong turn and the odds of finding the right course are slim-to-none.

Plus, I truly feel that adoption is the path Sam and I should be on right now. It's the path we want to be on right now. It is an answer to our prayers. Instead of hoping for a positive pregnancy test, we hope for a birth mother to find us. So when people make comments about me getting pregnant, it feels like it's undermining our adoption plans. And again, I know they mean well. But while pregnancy has it's own unique gifts, so does adoption.

Sam's the Man

He cooks AND bakes.

One Sunday he felt like bread and we were out.

So he made TWO different kinds. I just did the dishes.

Here’s a cake he made me for my birthday. How cute is that?!

Iron Chef Sam at the first Annual Corn Festival at the Navajo Village Heritage Center.

He made traditional Navajo dishes and introduced his new creation,

The Navajo Cheese Steak. Yum!

He's very creative.

Our neighbors cut down a giant tree in their yard, so he took a chunk of the trunk to make a powwow drum.

Last summer we went to Lake Powell and he made an awesome sand castle.

At Pioneer Trek he made a makeshift shower so I could wash my hair …

The rest of the ward ended up using it, too.

Everything’s much better with clean hair!

He knows how to make me laugh.

At least one Hotel in Mexico has a trampoline and we were lucky enough to stay there.
Sam performed a hilarious cheerleading-meets-Cirque de Soleil routine
while diners at the nearby restaurant looked on.

Sam SERIOUSLY prefers this picture over the one we use at the top of this blog.
We have it in our house and it makes me laugh every time I see it.

I LOVE this guy!

Open vs. Closed

Yesterday at church a woman who is new to the ward shared her experience of placing her baby for adoption a few years ago. She chose to have an open adoption and she keeps in regular contact with the adoptive family. I (Megan) wanted to run up to the pulpit and give her a big hug and thank her for sharing her experience. Of course that wouldn’t have been appropriate—plus I had to use all my strength to keep from making a spectacle of myself since this subject makes me very emotional.

My oldest sister placed a baby girl for adoption when she was 17 years old. I was only eight, but I remember a lot about the experience. I remember somehow knowing she was pregnant before she and my parents told me. I remember feeling tremendous sympathy for my sister, while also having great admiration for how she was handling everything. I remember anticipating the birth of her baby more than Christmas day. I remember going to the hospital to see my very first niece and I remember that she looked just like my sister. I remember my parents were sad to say goodbye to their first grandchild, but that they were supportive and respectful of my sister’s decision. I remember thinking my sister must be one of the most courageous people in the world.

My sister and I didn’t talk much about her experience until we were both much older. When Sam and I began looking into adoption, I was so grateful for all of the questions she was willing to answer. I found out how hard it was for her to say goodbye to her baby—back then adoptions were pretty much all private/closed. She had very minimal input as to which family her child would become part of. When it came time for her to leave the hospital, she had to leave her baby behind. She explained how strange that was to her—leaving her baby at the hospital, assuming she would make it to the family someone else had chosen for her.

I am so grateful that the woman who will bless Sam and me with a child will have the opportunity to get to know us. I’m grateful that she will be able to choose which family her child joins. I’m grateful that she will know where her child is and how he/she is doing. And I’m grateful that, if she chooses, her child will know who she is, too.