I know this post may seem like a complete 180 compared to my last post but Brandon and I have decided to...pause. We cancelled our homestudy appointment and we're not sure if we're going to reschedule it anytime soon.
In the past week I did call Nurse D up, explained the situation, and she emailed me some bloodwork and tests I need to get done. I was more or less curious to see what the results would be. Would things look good? Better than the last cycles? Would it look promising enough to try again?
But then I started thinking about money. If we chose IVF we would be closing the door to adoption. If we chose adoption we would need to shell out another $700 in the next week to update our homestudy.
And then shit just started to go downhill from there.
I felt panicky. The anxiety welling up inside me was almost too much to bear. I felt nauseous all the time (I still do actually) and I was actually dreading our homestudy appointment instead of looking forward to it. And what's weird is that none of these feelings have any merit. On paper it appears we can afford our homestudy update while still being able to pay bills AND save up for a trip to England next year. But I still worry about money. If it's not in my hand this very instant, I worry about it. Maybe it's because of the mistake we made in going to Peru. We planned a $6,000 vacation based on our future income, and that future income was sliced in half the moment we got back from that vacation. A lesson I will not soon be forgetting. Or maybe it's because I've known what it's like to be poor. After separating from my first husband I worked two jobs and still had to charge my gas and groceries on a credit card because I didn't have the money to pay for them. I never ever want to go back to living like that again.
Remember a few months ago when we were tossing up the idea of whether to go active again with our agency or wait till Brandon got out? It was my heart that told me to keep going, even though my head told me it would be better to wait. Well, now that our financial situation has changed, I think our decision has too. I don't see myself getting a job anytime soon. I'm lucky to come across one job a week in my field that I can apply for, unless I want to commute over an hour to Hartford. And to pay $700 for a homestudy update when we might have to put the adoption on hold in December doesn't make much sense when you're on one income and can use that $700 for something else. Back when we had two jobs we could have easily made up for that but not anymore.
The other day, as I was thinking about this whole situation, I realized that I almost understand what it's like to be a birth parent. You're giving up something you want so bad, not because you want to give it up, but because you know it's best for you and your family. And you hope that one day you'll be in a better situation so that you finally get to experience parenthood on your terms, but you still grieve the fact you're giving up this current opportunity. It reminds me of a poem I used to read called Wait.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.
"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.
"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."
©Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.
But then I started thinking about money. If we chose IVF we would be closing the door to adoption. If we chose adoption we would need to shell out another $700 in the next week to update our homestudy.
And then shit just started to go downhill from there.
I felt panicky. The anxiety welling up inside me was almost too much to bear. I felt nauseous all the time (I still do actually) and I was actually dreading our homestudy appointment instead of looking forward to it. And what's weird is that none of these feelings have any merit. On paper it appears we can afford our homestudy update while still being able to pay bills AND save up for a trip to England next year. But I still worry about money. If it's not in my hand this very instant, I worry about it. Maybe it's because of the mistake we made in going to Peru. We planned a $6,000 vacation based on our future income, and that future income was sliced in half the moment we got back from that vacation. A lesson I will not soon be forgetting. Or maybe it's because I've known what it's like to be poor. After separating from my first husband I worked two jobs and still had to charge my gas and groceries on a credit card because I didn't have the money to pay for them. I never ever want to go back to living like that again.
Remember a few months ago when we were tossing up the idea of whether to go active again with our agency or wait till Brandon got out? It was my heart that told me to keep going, even though my head told me it would be better to wait. Well, now that our financial situation has changed, I think our decision has too. I don't see myself getting a job anytime soon. I'm lucky to come across one job a week in my field that I can apply for, unless I want to commute over an hour to Hartford. And to pay $700 for a homestudy update when we might have to put the adoption on hold in December doesn't make much sense when you're on one income and can use that $700 for something else. Back when we had two jobs we could have easily made up for that but not anymore.
The other day, as I was thinking about this whole situation, I realized that I almost understand what it's like to be a birth parent. You're giving up something you want so bad, not because you want to give it up, but because you know it's best for you and your family. And you hope that one day you'll be in a better situation so that you finally get to experience parenthood on your terms, but you still grieve the fact you're giving up this current opportunity. It reminds me of a poem I used to read called Wait.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.
"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.
"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."
©Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.
It sounds like you're doing what you have to do right now. That certainly doesn't mean that your situation won't change in the future, but if it doesn't feel right to move forward right now based on your financial situation, I think you're doing the right thing!
ReplyDeleteThat poem brought tears to my eyes. I'm willing to bet most infertiles have felt the same way as the author on more occasions than we can count!
It's hard to make that decision and I'm proud of you for doing what is best for your family right now.
ReplyDeleteThat's a really tough decision to make. I don't envy you. I'm sorry that your job situation hasn't worked out. :(
ReplyDeleteWill your agency allow you to take an extended break without forfeiting the fees you've already paid? Ours only normally allows a break for up to a year before we would lose the initial fees we paid into it. We had to get a special waiver when my husband was deployed for over a year, since we couldn't be active (I couldn't adopt without him) when he was gone. They were really nice about it, though.
Thank you for sharing that poem. Hope you don't mind if I share it as well. Patience & believing in God's plan is always the hardest part. We know it HAS to be the for the best (right?!) but it sucks when our plan doesn't appear the same as His. Sending love and prayers that your plans collide soon.
ReplyDelete