Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy

First off an explanation.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty low and sorry for myself, plus icky because my second cycle of the month of July (yes, the second - ugh, only 20 days apart thanks to the Estrace and Prometrium) started as well.  I took my first bcp in prep for our Sept FET this am.  It's on.  But I don't feel ready.  Even with an upcoming adoption that couldn't be going better, a little one already firmly established in our home, an amazing and loving husband, and all the support and love of my family and friends, I struggle with fear over how we're going to get child number three.

Sounds stupid, I know.  And ungrateful.  

But I'm not.  Not at all ungrateful.  Not in the least.  

Every day that I wake up I know that I have so much more than I deserve, so much more than others who are in the same position have.  I know I am blessed beyond even my expectations since hearing that we would never have a family without major major medical intervention or adoption.  I can guess that some people probably think I should just be happy with what I have instead of always wanting more.  But you see, three kids has been my dream from the beginning; I was given three and three were taken away; and I am determined not to give up on what is most important to me just because the road ahead seems impossible.  

I didn't settle when it came to my husband, and I'm so glad I held out for him.  I knew in my mind that he had to exist and that he was the one and only for me.  I was right.  And I cannot imagine how awful my life would be if I had settled for someone else.  He is the pot to my lid, my better half, unwavering and dependable; a man of honesty and integrity, and I could not respect anyone more. It took a wild journey to find him; it was worth every insane moment, every doubt, every crazy step in faith that I had to take.  

I feel the same way about our kids.  We have one and the others are on their way in some shape or form, and I cannot give up on them.  They are not hypothetical to me.  They are real.  And they are out there, somewhere, waiting for our family to find them.

But the journey to them sometimes scares the poop out of me, even if I am determined.  The only way I can explain the fear I feel is to chalk it up to the losses we've gone through, the overall toll that infertility has taken in general, and that I don't take any of the life we have now for granted.  I know what it has cost us emotionally, physically, mentally, financially, spiritually these past nearly seven years to get to where we are now, with one kid and one on the way, and I fear what it will take us to have our third.  I know how limited our resources are whether financial or whatever.  I know God is in control, but as I've said many times before, that doesn't mean everything is unicorns and rainbows.  

But enough about that for now.  Because what a difference a day makes!

No, I have no clue how we're going to get Kid #3 (if our own embryos don't survive), but finding out that Kumquat is a little boy changed something inside of me.

Knowing that he is a he made this November adoption more firm.  He has moved, in my mind, from hypothetical to solidly real.  From myth to fact.  From rumor to existence.  

He has a real nickname (Bear) and even a nearly full name, now (will be on my adoption blog shortly).  I've sorted through his clothes, changed the Boppy cover from pink to blue, organized his blankets and toys.

I can begin to anticipate what it will feel like to have a son and bring him home from the hospital.  What it will mean for Hubby to have a son to take with him fishing.  What it will mean to both of us to raise up a son to be like Hubby in character.  We never had a chance for any of that with J or W.  This little baby has in a moment made my fears of the future shrink, and my hope for it expand to infinity.  

It means I can start pinning little boy pins on Pinterest.  It means we can start dreaming.  It means all of those little newborn clothes sitting unused with the passing of J and W have a new owner, will create new memories, and have purpose.  It means that I was right to go gender neutral with generic toys that siblings can share.  

And it means that Z will stay the only princess for a while yet.  

Z was a new beginning for us, and this little boy will carry on that healing.  He has already started.  

Baby Bear, I can't wait to bring you home.