Surgery... and a plea

Tomorrow I go in for surgery to excise the endometriosis that causes me such extreme pain each month.

This is the same type of surgery that almost killed me two years ago... but the same type that was successful three years before that.

It is a new doctor... a man of God who has helped a dear friend of mine get her life back.

I come to you humbly asking for prayer

...that I will get through this surgery without complications

...that it will give me my life back

...for a smooth and minimally painful recovery.

I also come to you asking for your blessings for some dear friends of mine while I am 'out of commission'.

This is "Annie".

Remember her?  Remember those eyes that reminded me so much of my A when I saw them for the first time this Spring?

Annie is being adopted!

It absolutely thrills me to tell you that God used me and my precious A to help her find her family.

I "met" Amanda shortly after I posted about Annie in May.  She and her husband have committed to adopt her.  It makes me grin just thinking about how it all came about.  A total God story.

Amanda is an amazing and generous person and has launched a fundraiser to help not only her family, but another family bring home their child(ren).  It is a 50/50 wherein you get to vote on which family will receive the other half of the funds.  Amanda and her husband put up the first $100, because they are wonderful, selfless people committed to helping ALL orphans.  Their donation was finally matched yesterday bringing the fundraiser total to $200.  With the donations divided in half, Amanda and her husband would just break even if the fundraiser ended today.

But it doesn't.  There are a little over five days left of this fundraiser.  Still plenty of time to donate for your favorite child or family...

...or just to make your friend Katie smile.

It is my dearest wish that I will come home to a significant bump in the Jones' family's fundraising efforts.  Please check it out here.

Just $5 earns you a vote.  Little more than a bag of potato chips.  Think of the difference it would make if we ALL just chipped in $5.

You can also find their tax-deductible Reece's Rainbow FSP here.

Pretty please?

Endometriosis: Facts You've Probably Never Heard

As my struggles with my endometriosis have worsened over the past few months, I've found myself thinking - if people really knew the facts about endometriosis, would they still treat sufferers with such indifference?  I think not... which is why I'm launching this new awareness campaign:  Things You Didn't Know About Endometriosis.  Today I'm going to list a series of facts about endo that most people who don't have the disease (medical practicioners included) probably don't know.  After that, I'm going to highlight each fact in its own blog post, including personal testimonies from endometriosis sufferers, medical research, case studies, surgical reports, and anything else I can gain access to.  I encourage you to share these posts with your family, friends, and doctors - both endo sufferers and non-sufferers.  Maybe, together, we can increase understanding of this disease in both the general population and the medical community... and maybe, if we can't bring an end to our suffering, we can at least decrease it.

Before I get into the little known facts, I want to give a brief overview of what endometriosis is, for anyone who might not know.  Endometriosis is a chronic disease of the female reproductive system for which there is no cure.  Endometriosis occurs when the endometrial lining (which normally grows inside the uterus to allow a growing embryo to implant, or is shed during a monthly period) actually grows *outside* the uterus.  Endometrial tissue can commonly be found on the uterus, fallopian tubes, ovaries, bladder, and pelvic cavity walls of endometriosis sufferers.  It can also travel to more distant organs.  Occasionally, endometriosis causes cysts - fluid or semi-solid sacs - to form on the ovaries.  This abnormal tissue can cause a variety of issues in the pelvic cavity, as it is actual, solid tissue that is not meant to be there.  Endometriosis can cause severe pelvic pain, abnormal and heavy periods, and infertility, among other things.

Normal uterus vs. Endometriosis

Here's a little something to help put this into perspective.

The definition of Endometriosis, from the National Library of Medicine:  "Endometriosis is a female health disorder that occurs when cells from the lining of the womb (uterus) grow in other areas of the body."

The definition of Cancer, from the National Library of Medicine:  "Cancer is the uncontrolled growth of abnormal cells in the body."

There is certainly one main difference between the two:  Cancer cells are malignant, and will grow uncontrollably until they take over healthy cells.  They grow at an unsually rapid rate, which is what causes this disease to be fatal.  Endometrial cells are not malignant.  They grow at a normal rate, thus the disease does not usually result in death.  But look at the similarities.  Abnormal cells, cells that don't belong where they are found, that can grow anywhere in the body... on healthy organs... encroaching on the space they need to perform their life-sustaining functions.  Malignancy.  That's the difference.  Not so different after all, it seems... especially when you consider the following:

• Endometriosis can grow anywhere in the body.  It is most commonly found on pelvic organs/in the pelvic cavity, but it has also been found in previous surgical scars, on the bladder, ureters and kidneys, on the bowel (intestines, colon, appendix, rectum) and even rarely inside the vagina, inside the bladder, on the skin, in the lungs, on the spine and even in the brain.

Possible sites of endometriosis

• Endometriosis can be fatal!  Endometrial tissue can cause internal hemorrhaging, undetectable by a CT scan, and result in death.  Don't believe me?  Read one sufferer's account here.
• An estimated 10% of women are affected by endometriosis.  That means that, if you think of yourself and nine female friends, chances are that one of you has endometriosis, whether it has been diagnosed or not.
• On that note, endometriosis often goes undiagnosed because women think they are just having painful periods.  Because it can only be confirmed by laporoscopic surgery and biopsy, many women suffer without ever knowing what is causing their pain.
• Though up to 10% of the female population is affected, not everyone suffers from endometriosis to the same degree.  In fact, endometriosis is diagnosed in stages (once again similar to cancer) from I (minimal) to IV (severe) based on the extent, location and depth of the abnormal tissue.
• Contrary to what society and some doctors will tell you, extremely painful periods are not normal!  If your 'cramps' are so severe that they interfere with your life and ability to function normally, something is wrong.  It is not normal to suffer so severely that you can't even get out of bed for several days each month - seek help!
• Endometriomas - ovarian cysts caused by endometriosis which do not usually resolve on their own and require surgery to remove, can range from sizes smaller than a pea to sizes larger than a grapefruit.

• There is no cure.  All treatments for endometriosis are aimed at reducing the pain and impact on other internal organs, and sometimes preserving fertility.  No known treatment effectively cures endometriosis in all patients.  It is a common misconception that pregnancy, menopause, or a hysterectomy will 'cure' endometriosis.  They will not.  Once the endometrial tissue has begun to grow outside the uterus, removing the uterus or the hormones will not always make it 'disappear'.  Many women suffer their entire lives.
• Some of the treatments are brutal.  First line treatment includes hormonal birth control, which can have serious side effects for many.  Second line treatment is surgery.  Other treatments include other hormonal medications with even more serious side effects, which often require other medications to counteract.  For some, the treatment is as bad or worse than the disease.  This starting to sound like any other disease you've heard of?
• In advanced stages, endometriosis tissue and adhesions can actually cause the abdominal organs to fuse together!
• No one is too young to have endometriosis.  Many women begin to experience their symptoms in adolescence (as I did)!  In fact, upon my diagnosis (at age 18), my doctor told me that one of the worst cases he had ever seen was in a fifteen year old girl who had only been menstruating for about two years.
• Endometriosis can cause infertility in 30-40% of sufferers even if the fallopian tubes are not compromised.  The reason for this is still largely unknown, but it is a very real issue for many women who try... and try... and try... and fail... and fail... and fail... to get pregnant.
• Endometriosis goes hand in hand with any number of other conditions.  Pelvic Inflammatory Disease (PID), Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), sexual dysfunction, as well as other digestive, urinary, bleeding and even psychological conditions are often caused or impacted by endometriosis.
• Endometriosis is, in fact, referred to by endo specialists across the country as "the benign cancer", because it acts so similarly to cancer without being malignant.

Saying this is what it feels like is an understatement.

So, dear doctor who felt the need to tell me it was "not necessary to admit endometriosis patients for pain control" in the emergency room tonight, perhaps if you educated yourself a bit on the disease you are supposed to be treating, you might understand that even though it doesn't kill in as huge numbers as cancer, endometriosis can be devastating, your tests can be wrong, and your judgment is harmful.  Next time I see you... I will be armed with information.  And to you friends and family of someone who has endometriosis... remember the quote:  "be kinder and gentler than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."  Your friends and family members may not be fighting cancer, but they are fighting a disease, and it is a brutal disease with brutal treatments.  They need you now more than ever.  And to my endo sisters... take a moment just to reflect on this sentence... you are not alone.  Imagine if, when you walked into the ER for the umpteenth time because your pain was out of control, you were surrounded by other women also suffering from endometriosis.  Imagine how supported you would feel.  Well, sisters, we may not always be able to be there for each other in person, but we ARE here for each other, in spirit, in support.  We know how it feels.  You don't have to go it alone.  Reach out to those who understand, and arm yourselves with information for those who don't.

Sources:

1. National Library of Medicine.  Retrieved August 14, 2013, from http://www.google.com

2. Facts About Endometriosis.  Endometriosis.org.  Retrieved August 14, 2013, from http://endometriosis.org/resources/articles/facts-about-endometriosis/

3. About Endometriosis.  Endometriosis.org.  Retrieved August 14, 2013, from http://endometriosis.org/endometriosis/

4. Myths and Misconceptions in Endometriosis.  Endometriosis.org.  Retrieved August 14, 2013, from http://endometriosis.org/resources/articles/myths/

5. Endometriosis:  A Guide for Patients.  American Society for Reproductive Medicine.  Retrieved August 14, 2013, from  http://www.asrm.org/Endometriosis_booklet/

6. Endometriosis In-Depth Report.  New York Times.  Retrieved August 13, 2013, from http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/disease/endometriosis/print.html

Endometriosis REALLY sucks.

It's official:  I'm having surgery, probably in about two weeks.  This will be my second biggest surgery, and my first with a new doctor.  It will include cauterization and excision of endometriosis, nerve ablation/neurectomy, possible bowel resection and/or ureter repair, and perhaps a gortex device to stop my right ovary from getting stuck off in the middle of nowhere as it is want to do.

Until then, I am in such unbearable pain, constantly, that I have to be on medication nonstop.

I lost my job today because of issues related to my medical condition.  That hurts, I'm not going to lie.

This puts me searching for a job with surgery in just a couple weeks - and who's going to hire me knowing I'll be out for at least a week very soon?

But if I wait until after I recover to get a job, I won't be able to pay a very important bill and it could have dire consequences for my future, for years.  Could even affect my ability to adopt.

How's that for irony... the disease that causes infertility, that causes many people to choose adoption, has become so complicated that it may actually indirectly prevent me from adopting as well.

So I'm having a down day.  If you have any extra prayers, I would really appreciate them.  I need this surgery to get here fast and I need it to work.

In fact, I'm counting down the days.

I really just want to live a normal life.  Everything was going to be okay after this surgery and once again, my life has come crashing down around me.  Sometimes I really have no idea what path God wants me to be traveling down...

Endometriosis sucks.

That's it.  It just does.  There's no other way to put it, it just flat out SUCKS.

Imagine being in pain... ALL THE TIME.

After FIVE surgeries in as many years, intended to reduce the pain.

Pain so great that sometimes, all you can do is curl up into a ball and cry.

Pain so great that sometimes, you *choose* to spend a beautiful evening in the Emergency waiting room rather than outside, because you just can't stand it anymore.

Imagine living all, or almost all of your days, in that pain.

Going to work in that pain... trying to be productive... trying to forget how much it hurts.

Spending time with friends in that pain... unable to fully enjoy yourself because it hurts every.single.minute.

Attending special occasions in that pain... trying to smile and chat when all you can think about is curling up with a heating pad.

Harder still, attending things like baby showers, births, children's parties, mother's day lunches... in that pain.

That pain that constantly reminds you that you may never have the privilege of giving birth.

Praying you can still be glad for others who don't have to struggle in the same way you do.

Praying that the pain doesn't make you bitter.

Imagine thinking you were doing so well, having a good day... and then breaking down crying at the smallest thing, realizing you were really just holding it in all that time.

Imagine heading into another surgery... and looking forward to it, because it just might make the pain better.

Imagine being dependent on doctors and medications - often ones stigmatized by one group or another (birth control, pain medications, anti-depressants)... just to live a semi-normal life.

Imagine not knowing if you'll *ever* feel better...

Or knowing that you may have to have a premature hysterectomy just to gain some relief.

And that in doing so, you open yourself up to a whole host of other possible issues.

Imagine realizing you're lucky in so many ways... this disease is not usually fatal...

But the pain makes it so easy to forget... or not to care.

Imagine that this whole time, it seems like no one understands.

They label you:  Whiner.  Addict.  Downer.  Liar.  And so many more.

Sometimes, they even abandon you.  Your struggles are too much for them.

This is not a disease for which people can easily have sympathy.  There simply isn't enough understanding yet.

Google doesn't even recognize it as a word.

Imagine knowing that THIS... is your life.

There is no escaping it.

That's where I am, right now.  And I'm trying hard to push on, to be okay...

But sometimes, I just need people to understand... that they don't understand.

And that that's okay.

But be patient with me.

I'm fighting a battle you do not know.

Where I've Been

Not sure anyone noticed, but I've been somewhat absent from blog world lately due to personal concerns.  I had two surgeries in late March/early April to remove over 25 kidney stones that had formed on both sides of my body, the largest around 7 mm (too large to pass).  Unfortunately, I reacted poorly to the stent, and then to the stent removal after the second surgery, resulting in three ER visits and two hospital admissions.  In fact, I spent my birthday in the hospital, which was not exactly how I wanted to spend it, but my family and my nurses helped me make the best of it.

As of right now, I've been home since last Tuesday being treated for swelling/inflammation around my right kidney that they think was caused by the surgery combined with some old scarring.  I'm praying hard that this treatment works, because I've been semi out of commission for almost a month now, and I'm not enjoying it!   Unfortunately, since then, some other 'when it rains, it pours' type things have cropped up, so I haven't felt much like writing.

Anyways, just thought I'd update in case anyone is reading and let them/you know that I'm hoping to be back to myself soon.

Looking Back on 2012

I did this last year, and this year has been another... eventful... life-changing... year... so I'm doing it again.  And praying that this time next year, when I look back on 2013, happy memories, not sad ones, are what come to mind first.

January
2012 actually started on the best note possible.  I hadn't seen my two youngest DBKs, A and AJ, in over four months.  I missed them terribly and I hadn't been feeling in the holiday spirit at all.  On January 1, 2012, I saw them again.  Watched them open their Christmas presents.  Held them in my arms, hugged them tight, told them I loved them.  It was a perfect day.

AJ, 2 years old

A, 8.5 years old

After that we had to slowly get back to reality.  It was tough.  I had my heart broken for orphans around the world with special needs.  I wasn't sleeping well at night, staying up late to pray for children according to events in their time zones.  I was having no success finding a job to aid in paying the bills, and anxiously awaiting tax refunds.  Even though it started so perfectly, January was a rough month... a month of wait and see.

February
In February things got a little better.  Taxes came through to pay the bills.  I started working on getting licensed to do childcare for my friend's kids.  It seemed like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  I was also gearing up for two exciting trips - a statewide conference on Child Passenger Safety which would be held in April, and a national conference in Orlando, Florida on national highway safety priorities which would be held in June.  I had been granted a scholarship to attend both by our local Safe Kids Coalition.  I felt like things were going to be looking up soon - and they did, for a while.  Good news started coming down about the orphans I was advocating for.  More were making their way home.  Changes were being made in their home countries.  Families were committing to children.  I found myself more engrossed in the Reece's Rainbow community by the minute.

March
In March, the first thing that jumps to mind is something that happened one day when I was literally as far as could be from expecting it.  There was snow and ice on the roads, a rare occurrence here last winter.  It was late - 11 pm or so.  I was in my warm bed, under my electric blanket, writing about orphans, when my phone started to buzz.  Bill collectors, I was sure, but when I looked at the caller ID... it was the mom of my DBKs, whom I hadn't heard from since January 1.  I answered to find her distraught and needing me to come take the kids.  All I can say is that it was a miracle I made it the short distance to where they were living without incident on the icy roads, because I wasn't exactly taking it slow.  I was going to see my babies.  I picked them up.  They were excited to see me.  My heart was full to finally bring them home again, put them to sleep in their cozy, warm beds where they knew they were safe.

I had them for two days that time, and I never knew exactly why, except that it's likely tied up in what turned into a very large amount of police reports.  In any case, I was thankful to have them in my arms once more, even if I didn't know when the next time I would see them would be.

In March, I also began to share with my oldest DBK, M, who is not related to the other two, about the orphan crisis.  Poor sweet soul, it broke her heart to see all those children in such terrible conditions.  I found that we both needed to *do* something, and we also needed a respite from the pain we were discovering.  While my mind worked on what M and I could do together to make a difference for these kids, I planned a girls' night for us - we painted our nails, played games, stayed up late, and then went to a late showing of The Hunger Games, which was amazing and really played right into my determination to do something to make a difference.  M loved it and we began reading the books together, a couple of chapters at a time aloud, every night.  I'd already read them all - in three days, no less, because I'm one of those people who has to read books before seeing movies, but M, not much of a reader, wanted to read them and I thought it would be a nice way for us to bond.  And she only laughed at me a little when I couldn't pronounce 'muttations' correctly throughout all three books.  How do you pronounce it anyways?

As the month ended, I was feeling more at peace than ever... even if the future was unknown.

April
April is my birth month, and M's, and my mom's, so it was a big month around our house.  My birthday is April 6.  It was a Friday, and two days before Easter.  I'd been home all day, cleaning up so my friend's kids could come over while she went to work later.  It was when I noticed my 17 year old brother cleaning that I knew something was up.  I didn't dare to guess what.  I went on with my day.  My friend brought her girls over.  We all took a nap.  When I woke up, I went upstairs, where my mom was just getting home from work..... and had my babies with her!  My birthday presents were two big hugs from A and AJ - the thing I'd wanted most but hadn't even dared to hope for.  And we had another perfect day.  We played together, we braided hair, we ate cake and ice cream, and I was happy.  At the end of the day though, it became apparent that crisis had struck in their lives once again.  They had nowhere to go and would be staying with us, at least overnight, we'd discuss it more the following day.  Little did I know that when my mom asked for a couple hours with the kids for my birthday - she'd ended up getting me a couple months with them!  April found the kids moving back in most of the time, and many more happy memories being made.

M had her birthday party at Skate America - her mom went all out to make sure it was perfect.  I attended with A while my mom watched AJ, and both my girls had a blast, and I had a blast watching them.

At the end of the month I went to my statewide child passenger safety conference, which was great, but I definitely missed those goofy kids even if I was only gone for two days!

May
May was, most importantly, A's birthday.  Nine years old this year!  She didn't have a party with us this year (I don't know that I'm up to anything like her 7th birthday party... ever again) because she was getting something WAY better.  I was going to Orlando the following month for my national highway safety conference, and with my costs paid for, it cost me only a little more to bring her with me - and how could I not, with Disney World right down the road?  Pretty much everyone I know brought their families.  But since A's birthday was in May, it was a surprise super awesome present.  I wrapped up this big box full of balloons, travel supplies, and this sign:

She went to gymnastics that night so excited to tell all her friends and teachers that she got to meet the princesses.

The other thing in May that stands out in my mind is Mother's Day.  I honestly don't even remember what I got my mom, but I will never forget my very first Mother's Day gift.

Sweet A, when I picked her up from school that day, handed me this little sprout in a plastic dixie cup, and a carefully crafted card.  She handed them to me and said "Happy Mother's Day.  I just do love you SO MUCH, Katie!"

I nearly cried.  Later, after she was in bed, I did cry.  Because I'm not her mother, but I did a whole lot of raising her.  This was her way of telling me that she knew that, that she loved me like a mother just like I love her like a daughter.  The picture of the flower above was taken in the fall - it grew so far beyond that little dixie cup, we cared for it so well because that little flower meant so much to us.

June
Oh boy... talk about hot and cold.  June started out amazing.  Home with my babies.  Getting ready to go to Florida.  So much excitement.  On June 13 (a day which was formerly dark to me with history), I boarded the plane with my girl to go on our dream vacation.

We had a blast.  We met the princesses.  We played on the beach, swam in the ocean, saw family, went shopping, ate ice cream like there was no tomorrow, and took a million pictures.

Cinderella's Castle!

Beach for the first time!

Fort at St. Augustine

Then, on our last full day there, the world stopped spinning.  Crisis began.  As we were sitting there packing up our bags, A told me a secret... a deep, dark one that she probably never told anyone else.  I fully believe that it is only because of how far from home we were, how relaxed our days had been, that she felt comfortable sharing it with me.

It wasn't a secret I could keep.

I didn't want to make the call.  I didn't want to set the cascade of events I knew would follow into motion... but I thought I had to.  Honestly if I could go back in time, I would change that decision.

A tropical storm, hurricane, something, was brewing off the coast.  The sky had darkened significantly.  The waves were huge.  Red flags were raised on the beach.  The last time we played on the beach, it was almost deserted.

A storm was also brewing within me.  I fought to hold back the torrent of emotions I was dealing with that day and give my princess the final vacation day she deserved.  I tried to enjoy every single little moment, push the dark thoughts out of my mind and just enjoy her... but my stomach was in knots.

I will tell this story in greater detail later, although I won't share everything because it isn't all mine to share, but to make a long story short, we flew home the next day... I kept the smile on my face... it'll all be okay....

and then it wasn't.

That was the day I didn't even get to say goodbye to A before she was taken from me.  The day I didn't know I'd never see her baby brother AJ again.  I only saw A one time after that... and I hope she heard me when I told her I'd always love her.

After June 21, I spent the rest of the month in misery.  I felt sick all the time.  Nothing could make it better.  I can truly say the week that followed our return was the worst one in my entire life.  June ended darkly.

July
July was the month I tried to put myself back together... put one foot in front of the other... keep breathing... try just to survive each moment when each day was too much.  We hired an attorney to try to help A after social services let us down.  It was a road I never thought I'd be traveling.  The 4th of July came and went.  It's my favorite holiday.  I went to four fireworks shows, went swimming, spent time with my friends, family and M.  I enjoyed those things, I always do, but this year they felt empty.  Something was missing.  Something really important.  Where was A?  Did she get to see the fireworks?  Was she happy?  Was she even safe?

I was starting to mend.  Just a little bit.  There was still a big piece of my heart missing, but I was learning my new normal.  Then the week from hell struck.  It only started in July, but the worst of it fell there.  On Monday, July 30, I woke up to find my 17 month old kitten, Boo, dead on the floor of my apartment.  I almost didn't make it through the day.  I held him until we buried him.  I couldn't cry a single tear for a long time, and then one day they just all broke free.  I'm crying again writing this.  Another of the worst days of my life.  He was just a baby.  My baby.  I couldn't even sleep alone for days.  And July ended as darkly as June.

The day before he died

August
The week that ended July and began August was horrible.  It was supposed to be a good week.  Olympics, the State Fair, friends, but starting with the cloud of my pet's death hanging over us, it was just bad.  I can't recall the details, but I missed my best friend Angie (who had passed just over a year prior) dearly, something had gone amiss with A's case, I got into a fight with a friend, I was discharged from my doctor's office over a $20 bill, and probably some other stuff I don't even remember... I just remember that it was a very bad, bad week.  I buried myself in mindless television shows, sleep, and orphan blogs.

After some time had passed, I adopted another cat - mostly black, just a tiny bit of white on his chest.  I called him 'Soft Kitty' or 'S.K' for a week, until I named him Marbles because when he purrs (which he does almost constantly), it sounds like someone's shaking a bag of marbles.  I love him!  He's six months old now. I spent some time in the hospital with a kidney infection (two ER visits in one week is never any fun) and had a bad medication reaction, so I was feeling a little worse for the wear even by the end of August, not to mention having to find a new doctor because I have any number of medical needs that have to be attended to regularly.  All I could do was hope it would get better when the school year started and routine set in more firmly.

Marbles, AKA 'Soft Kitty'

September
Finally, a month that started out well.  At the very beginning of September, my friend Faith got home from Eastern Europe with her two newly adopted children, both of whom have down syndrome.  Another friend and I went to see them that weekend and bring some clothes for the baby (she was around 18 months when she came home, but the size of a 3-6 month old).  We talked a while, played with the kids, and I got to hold her sweet and precious baby girl, who thankfully will never remember having been an orphan.

I look dumb in this picture.  But she's cute enough for both of us

I don't remember much about the rest of the month.  It must've been relatively unremarkable.  I did go to the Buddy Walk with Shannon and Faith's family, which was a blast, it was my first year and it definitely won't be my last.

October
October was a month I didn't look forward to... at all.  Halloween, pumpkins, hay rides, costumes... did you know I took A trick or treating every year between 2-7?  It wasn't a holiday I was used to 'celebrating' without her.  I remember being rather depressed.  I also faced a good bit of financial difficulty that I was working to resolve, and we had finally been given a court date, which was looming frighteningly on the horizon.  It felt like limbo - there's not really any other way I can put it.  Like I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I was probably irritable and short with people I know and love, and for that I'm sorry.  I was under a lot of stress and I apparently didn't cope well.  As the month ended, my mind was occupied by nothing but what November would bring.

November
Not long passed before the tone for the month of November was set.  Our court date was early in the month.  We were in court for over two hours - which was nearly if not completely unprecedented for a case like ours.  And it was a rough two hours.  I will admit that I cried on the stand - to the point where my 'smudge-proof' (apparently not waterproof) mascara was running down my face in a raccoon-like fashion.  It was rough, and the other team didn't play fair, but I regretted nothing.  After social services let us down, it was the only thing we could do, the thing we had to do.

After court that day, I slept for two hours, spent some time with some good friends, and then slept for sixteen hours, straight and solid.  I woke up at 7:00, and thought it was morning (it was not.  It was the following night.)  But then I felt a sense of relief.  Not complete relief - we were still waiting on a decision, which could have said anything - but court was over and that in itself was a relief.

The decision, which, from my perspective was not favorable (although I will admit there are unknowns involved that could change my opinion) came just before Thanksgiving.  So much for being thankful.  I had my wisdom teeth out the day before Thanksgiving (we had our turkey early) and after 7 abdominal surgeries I thought it would be a cinch - I didn't even have to be in a hospital - but I'm definitely counting that as one of my worst surgeries.  I have serious dental fear and I do NOT like anyone messing around with my mouth.  It's actually still healing.

At the end of the month I picked up some extra work with a friend (I had already worked for one friend for the better part of the year) and things seemed to be looking up, teeth (or lack thereof) aside.

December
Through December I continued to work for friends and fundraise heavily for Reece's Rainbow's Project Angel Tree.  It was a tough month, mostly because of financial difficulties, but we made it work.  At the end of the month, I came upon the opportunity to work for a friend who I met through Reece's Rainbow close to a year ago and has three adopted children with down syndrome.  Her family was in need of a home health aide, I was in need of a job, and a wonderful organization locally agreed to employ me to work for her.  I've been doing that job just about a week now (officially - this is one of the friends I was working for unofficially previously) and I just absolutely love it!

I missed A and AJ a lot this month.  It was truly my first Christmas without them since A came into my life all those years ago.  I walked through stores, by the sections of little girls' clothes, touched the ruffled skirts and commented to whomever I was with how I would most certainly be buying this if I still had A.  Girly girl if there ever was one.  But I appreciated the time I had with M, we celebrated Christmas in the usual manner, just unfortunately less two kids.

I look weird because of the lack of eyebrows.

On the very last day of December, the little boy whose Christmas Warrior I was through Reece's Rainbow met his goal - meaning I had to make good on a promise I made at the beginning of Angel Tree - that if both Brett #19 and Elden 14G met their goals, I would shave my head - and that is how I would start out 2013... and I smiled on the last day of 2012 - not only because I was glad to see it go, like last year (and I was, considering some of the year's happenings) but because I was thankful, too, to see another year and have hopes for more good and even better things.

Because that's the kind of perspective spending a year advocating with Reece's Rainbow gives you.

Praise God, From Whom All Blessings Flow!

This morning, when I woke up, I scarcely wanted to get out of bed.  As I fell asleep last night, my mind was preoccupied with many things... the kids, their behavior, how to work out a busy schedule, how to handle going from caring for one person, and occasionally others, to three people all the time.  And then there was the pain.  Because of my endometriosis, I generally experience about a week of excruciating pain each month, sometimes longer.  The only long term treatment option for this is pregnancy or hysterectomy... and the disease impairs your ability to conceive.  Irony.  Not funny irony, for someone who has wanted to be pregnant since she was ten.  Not funny at all after four surgeries, two units of donor blood to save my life, and a week in the hospital.  Especially not funny when after all that, I'm still experiencing this horrible pain each month.  Yes, I hate endometriosis very much.  One more bit of irony - it's not even recognized as a word by Google Chrome!  How on earth are we supposed to help the thousands of women who suffer from it when it isn't even a widely recognized or well understood disease?

But I digress.  This was weighing especially heavily on me last night because I will be away at a conference next Monday and Tuesday, so my very last chance to get the medication that makes that week bearable, was today.   This is a conference for Child Passenger Safety Technicians and advocates, one that I've twice attended before, and one that I greatly enjoy.  I did not want to spend it huddled in my hotel room in excruciating pain.  After receiving no response from the doctor's office yesterday, I didn't have high hopes for today.  But they came through.  As I lie in my bed in pain, letting Veggie Tales be our babysitter for the morning, the office called and my prescription was ready.  My outlook for the next few days is so much brighter!  I can enjoy my conference now!

Then, the greatest blessing of all came to my attention.  You see, as I lay in bed this morning and prayed for relief, for myself, for my conference, I prayed first that God would intervene on behalf of the orphan.  I also prayed first that He would take the greatest care of my precious DBKs.  I told Him that yes, I prayed for myself, for my disease, for my conference, but that I would endure that pain if it meant He could turn His attention to those in greater need, to the children.  I thought especially of little Sarah, who I posted about earlier this week.  When I posted about her, there were less than two weeks until her file went back to her country's government, likely condemning her to live out the rest of her days in that awful orphanage.  With every day that passed, my fear that Sarah would not find a family grew.

So, as I often do, I stopped in at Reece's Rainbow to check the My Family Found Me page - the page listing all the children who had families in various stages of the process to adopt them.  I expected to see the same faces I saw yesterday - sometimes they roll in in great number, and sometimes they slow to a trickle.  I didn't even dare to hope to see Sarah's little face on My Family Found Me.

But I did! 


Yes, that's right!  Precious Sarah, whom myself and others had begged for God to bring into a family where she can grow and be nurtured and loved and reach her full potential, has found a family!  Look at her there, on the My Family Found Me page, where she deserved to be all along.  SARAH IS COMING HOME!

God did not just answer my selfish prayer.  He did not come to my aid and leave a precious little one whose need was far greater without.  He answered both!  Our God is truly great and there is nothing He cannot do.  He has brought countless children out of terrible places and into loving families.  He has healed the sick. He has walked with us through our most difficult moments, through our times of praise, and through all those in between.  PRAISE HIS HOLY NAME!  Words are completely inadequate for the JOY I feel in my heart right now, because He has truly SAVED Sarah.  He saved her soul 2000 years ago when He sent His son to die for our sins, but today He has committed to save her earthly body as well.

To Sarah's family - whomever you are - we don't know yet - thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you for hearing our cries, her cries, the cries of a God who loves her and doesn't want her abandoned in that place one moment longer.  THANK YOU.

Yes, some days are hard.  Yes, last night I was crying in pain, fear, sadness and desperation.  I hurt, I missed my dear best friend Angie, I worried for Sarah and for countless other children, I wondered if I was truly doing God's will with my precious DBKs.  I went to bed with a heavy heart.  I woke up with a heavy heart.  But God has turned all that around.  The sun is shining, the sky is blue (the tank is clean.... oh wait, that's a Nemo reference), I have a happy little boy babbling at me and smiling from his high chair, two happy little girls who will get to play at the park on this beautiful day, relief from my constant struggle with the pain caused by my disease... and Sarah has a family.  CONGRATULATIONS SARAH!  And congratulations to the family who will be so lucky to call her their daughter.

Praise Him, from Whom ALL blessings flow!

The Worst - and Best - Year of My Life.

2011... what to say, what to say!  Never in my life has a year been packed with so many life-changing events.  Seldom before has my view of the world, or my plan for myself shifted so drastically in such a short time.  Finally, never, in a year, have I experienced so much utter pain, on every level:  Physical, psychological, emotional.  And yet, a few days ago, in a room with some of my best friends in the world, I officially survived it!

A week or so ago, I was poised to write a post titled "Where I Was" - which was intended to explain the place I was in my life before everything changed for me.  I scrapped it, because it came out sounding like a laundry list of bad things that had happened to me.  But it's another important piece of the puzzle... because in order to understand where I am now - you must understand where I was then.  So, instead of attempting to recall the original post (which I failed to save), I would like to post this more as a 'year in review'.  I will warn you that it is long, as are most of my posts (I have a writer inside me struggling to get out!).  I have tried to shorten it several times but I feel like that cheapens it - takes away from the picture I'm trying to convey - so it remains as is.  Further, it has always been my desire to be completely honest through this blog (although some things will not be shared for privacy reasons) - I will not sugar-coat the truth here.  If you have time and so desire, read.  If you don't - that's just fine too.  As always, many more thoughts are floating around my head - blog posts for days to come - but this one, for today.  Without further adieu...

January
In January I began my second-to-last quarter of College with a heavy heart.  As excited as I was about graduating, my best friend Angie had recently been diagnosed as terminal with the cancer she'd been fighting for over  five years.  They gave her 2-3 months to live - in November.  I felt as though nothing I did, aside from spending time with her, mattered in the least.  My best friend was dying.  Any day, she could be gone.  How could I care about alternative fuel sources or historic Spanish literature at such a time?  In addition, I was dealing with chronic, debilitating physical pain of my own and scheduled surgery for my endometriosis for March 2.  The month found my Dear Borrowed Kids living in a hotel, then with me, then with their grandmother.  Then at the end of the month, the doctors found multiple tumors in Angie's brain.  They said 2-3 weeks.  It seemed like every situation in my life was worse than ever before.  The only light I had... were those special days I spent with my best friend, enjoying each other's company, laughing over nothing, while we still had time.

February
If you'd asked me in January, I could've scarcely believed that February could be worse... but it was.  The frustrations of January continued, and grew, and multiplied.  Late in the month, it became apparent that my beloved cat Buckeye, nearing 17 years old, whom I'd had since I was five years old, was not simply 'slowing down in his old age' - he was dying.  After what was essentially a heartwrenching emergency vet appointment on a Friday night, I was told he was in end stage renal failure.  I asked if he was in pain, through my sobs.  They told me that he could be, and that he was certainly uncomfortable.  We were given medications to make him more comfortable.  I didn't want euthenasia.  I never believed that it was the right of man to decide who lived or died - human or animal.  I took my baby home and spent the weekend with him... but by Sunday night, I knew.  It wasn't fair to put him through this anymore.  He was dying.  It was going to happen, and soon.  I held him close to me one last time on Sunday night, all night... I went to class and pretended to care... and then I came home and took pictures and snuggled him some more.  Then we went to the vet, and I watched them put my baby to sleep on February 28, 2011.  The liquid was orange.  I'll never forget a single detail about that day.  I took him home, wrapped him in one of my favorite sweatshirts, and buried my precious Buckeye.

In Memoriam

Doing his favorite thing... exploring the great outdoors.

And yet, through all this, guess who continued to hang on?  Guess who was there for me as I cried the night I buried my kitty?  My best friend Angie, of course.  Facing a terminal diagnosis herself, she never once passed up an opportunity to help a friend.  By the grace of God, we made memories that month, memories that I will never, ever forget.

March

March just did not start off on the right foot.  Having just lost my lifetime feline companion, my heart was shattered. I was heading into surgery not knowing whether or not my best friend would still be alive when I came home.  I was scared, to put it mildly.  The night before my surgery, Angie and I were visiting an animal rescue - she and I were both intending to adopt kittens - and a stupid, silly little misunderstanding sent me into the hysterical sobs I'd been holding back for 24 hours.  Once again - guess who was there to give me a hug, and tell me she was there for me?  Oh, Angie, how much you did for everyone else, even as your own time drew to a close.  

Then my surgery went bad.  Two more surgeries, one of which was markedly more invasive than those prior, had to be performed simply to keep me alive.  I was bleeding internally and my blood pressure had dropped to a dangerous level.  I had to receive a blood transfusion while in surgery.  All I remember is signing the consent form, and hearing them yell things like "Clear the OR" and "We need to get her some blood"... and looking up at my doctor as they were putting me under and croaking "Save me."  I was so scared.  There are large blocks of time about which I remember nothing at all.  A simple outpatient procedure, turned so bad.  I spent a week in the hospital.  There were fears of infection and other complications.  I was miserable - and I wasn't home where I could spend time with Angie while I still could.  I could barely text her with all the medication constantly dripping into my IV.  My texts came out garbled and hard to read.  I didn't want her to visit because it could make her sick.  Things didn't get much better when I went home.  I was in a lot of pain for a long time.  I had to take an incomplete on all my winter classes.  As if all of this wasn't enough, things went bad with my two younger Dear Borrowed Kids, causing them to be abruptly withdrawn from my life - and loving them as though they were my own, this was a blow.  

The end of March, however, found things looking up.  My dear Angie was still fighting the good fight, we'd both adopted precious kittens.  I had high hopes for things to come.  

Introducing Boo, the adorable kitten.

April

Being my birth month, I had high hopes for this one, despite still reeling from the effects of a terrible March.  The falling-out with the family of my two younger DBKs was hard, but I felt differently about it than I'd expected.  I felt as though I'd made a choice that was in all of our best interests, and that the current situation was only temporary - so I was at peace.  I was in the process of seeking an internship to complete my BA in Public Health, and hoping for something I'd really enjoy.  As it so happened, I landed an absolutely perfect internship with the injury prevention department at the local health department, with whom I'd been volunteering at car seat checks for years.  A few weeks into the internship, they offered to pay me - well.  A couple weeks later, they told me they wanted to hire me when I graduated.  It was like a dream come true!  I never could have imagined things working out so well.  Best of all, the end of the month came, and Angie and I were still playing games and laughing together, just like always.  Even the best of the medical community cannot predict the will of God.  

May

Like April, May brought good news.  It certainly wasn't without its difficulties, but it was overall positive.   I went to a fabulous conference both for my job/internship and for myself, in the process seeing a dear friend whom I hadn't seen in nearly a year, and in the same breath the parents of my missing DBKs called seeking to mend fences.  I spent 30+ hours a week doing a job I loved, and my free time with the people I loved.  Toward the end of the month, Angie started gearing up for her final Relay for Life - and we couldn't wait to cheer her on.  She was getting sicker... but still smiling, still blessing us just by being her radiant self.  May was good.

June

In June, the hard times started to come back.  I was driving a car nearly as old as I was, and while I was thankful for it, I knew its days were coming to an end.  It needed repairs I couldn't afford, and I didn't see any point in trying to afford them when I'd just be in the same place in a few months anyways.  Finally, the brakes completely gave out and I made the decision to sell it and buy a new car.  It was a little earlier than I'd hoped (I'd hoped to buy a car after graduation - Clyde (that was the car's name) apparently was a couple weeks off on that timetable), but it was what I wanted and what I felt was right for me and for the precious little ones I needed to transport safely!  Have you ever watched the crash test for a 1990 model year vehicle?  No?  Okay, don't.  Especially not if you drive one.  Only by the grace of God was I saved - when I hit the brakes and they failed, I stopped literally inches from the bumper of the car in front of me.  I puttered off to a safe place to call AAA.  I could've hit that car in front of me... and become that crash test.

Well, finding a new car wasn't as easy as I'd hoped.  I'd done extensive research into it over the past years, anticipating a post-graduation purchase and I was ready to go - but not only did I hit a snag, the situation kicked up some pretty devastating family drama.  All this came to a point just as I was driving home from Relay for Life - watching my dear best friend make her final 'Survivor's Lap'.  I was left feeling heartbroken, alone and as though no one had faith in me.  What should have been a happy time of my graduation was instead painful.  

Finally, towards the very end of the month, I was able to get a new car, with the help of my mom, who has been my rock throughout my entire life.  I was excited and things seemed to be looking up heading into July.

July

There are no words for July.  Loss.  Heartbreak.  Pain.  Sadness.  Mourning.  None of these even begin to cover what we all felt when dear Angie died on July 15, 2011.  No matter how hard I might try, I'll never forget the days leading up to that day... just... indescribable.  Angie would've blushed and told me to stop flattering her, but she was my hero - not because she had cancer, but because she had cancer and she didn't let it stop her.  Sure, she had her down moments, everyone does, but she just kept on going.  She told me once "I didn't really have any other choice".  Oh, dear Angie, how many times I've said those same words.  My wonderful best friend is deserving of a blog post of her own, but that is for later.  For now... a photo of the two of us:

I miss you every day, dear Angie.  You are a huge part of who I've become.

August

They say "When it rains, it pours".  This statement, I've found to be so true.  August began with the struggles of July, then more struggles with my two younger DBKs.  August delivered some bad medical news for me, which got me quite down for a while.  My hours as a temporary employee at the job I loved were running out and the future of my employment still not cemented.  Finally, at the end of the month, tensions which had been rising for a long time between myself and the family of my two younger DBKs came to a head, resulting in me losing them again.  Further, my physical pain was slowly but steadily coming back, and I was wondering why, if I'd been through all this surgery just months earlier, was I in pain again?  The end of the month came only with uncertainty.

September

This was a month which I spent largely at home, alone, which in retrospect was very bad for me.  My heart was broken again by more bad medical news, even as it lay shattered with the loss of my best friend and pain for my DBKs.  I worked periodically, rationing my last few hours, waiting for the day I could finally come back to work for good.  Finances started to become difficult, but I chose not to get another job, because I was certain I'd be returning to my 'real' job soon.  My physical pain had nearly reached pre-surgery levels and I started to look into other medical options, not excluding further surgery.  More than anything, I was lonely.  I spent so much of my time alone that even periodic gatherings of friends or family did little to ease the pain once I went back home.  September ended with even more uncertainty than August.

October

I knew all along that October would be hard, I just didn't know how hard.  You see, since my little DBK, A, was two years old, she has trick-or-treated with me.  This year, I knew we wouldn't be together.  It stung.  My work hours completely ran out and pay essentially stopped but for a trickle of mileage checks.  Still, I chose not to get another job, because surely I'd just have to quit in a couple of weeks anyways.  October went the way of September.

November

Though not the month I hit rock bottom, November was a steady downward slide.  I don't kid you when I say I'm lucky to have made it through alive.  Pain levels were back to where they were before my March surgery, sometimes even as bad as the post-op pain.  I was dependent on medication to even get through a day.  I was depressed and heartbroken over the state of my life.  My wonderful friends had noticed the change in me before I had and expressed concern, unfortunately leading to a turn of events which put us at odds and left me feeling even more alone than ever.  My work hours and income were gone, but I'd finally interviewed for my position about a week and a half before Thanksgiving, so I felt that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I'd at least be back to work and out of the house soon.  However, the end of November came too soon, with the same uncertainty as the months before it - still no job, still no money, and now behind on bills and planning to schedule another surgery.  It felt bleaker than bleak.

December

What can I say?  December 2011.  Probably the most transformative month of my life.  Here is where this post gets divided into two parts - a 'before,' and an 'after'.  

December did not come quietly into my life.  On the very first day, it came with confirmation that I would have surgery - a good thing for my pain, but still scary, particularly at that time, having become more real and concrete in my mind.  In the same day, I learned that I'd been passed over for the job I thought was mine since April.  As it turns out, the effects of this economy are further reaching than any of us could have imagined, and circumstances precluded my superiors from being able to hire me.  Some of them, I think, were hurt for me as I was for myself.  I also think they were wrong - I do think I was the best person for that job - but who am I to decide right and wrong?  Ultimately, I feel there was a reason for the way things happened... but at the time, it was a devastating and heartbreaking blow to the very essence of who I am, not to mention further complicating financial matters just before Christmas, when I'd had such high hopes for making a wonderful Christmas for my family this year.  Further, it would be my first Christmas in six years without my little A - and the only Christmas season without AJ since he'd been born.  I was not feeling the spirit of the season, and my faith was more than shaken.  

But good things were slowly starting to happen.  A little at a time, I began mending fences with the friends I'd fought with in the previous months.  I felt as though there was a light at the end of the tunnel with regards to the everyday pain I was experiencing.  I started taking a more active role in making myself happy.  I was starting to heal, but I was still lower than low.  I felt as though everything I'd worked toward thus far, every thing I lived for, was gone.  What to do now?  I had a heart to help... and I'd tried and tried and it seemed like I'd failed.  

This, my friends, all that you have read up until this point, is the 'before'.

Here is the 'after'.

On December 3, 2011, just two days after the devastating news about my job, I saw this picture:  

From http://theblessingofverity.com/ with permission.

Now, if you've not read my blog up until this post, or are not part of the adoption community, you may wonder why on earth a picture of a child in a car seat could turn a 'before' into an 'after'.  Friends, let me tell you why.  That child in the car seat, her name is Katie, and she is nine years old.  She was adopted internationally, so malnourished that she weighed only 10 lbs.  What happened from then on is chronicled in my very first blog post, here.  There were nine days between laying my eyes on this precious child, and hearing God loud and clear in my own life.  Through every single one of those days, I could not get that precious girl - and so many others like her - off my mind, or out of my heart.  Not that I wanted to.  

Friends, I can't begin to tell you how the end of December left me.  Yes, I had surgery again.  More tears were shed.  More pain was had.  More uncertainties were faced.  More frustrations were voiced.  But everything - and I mean everything - had been put into a whole new frame. Where I felt no purpose before, I felt renewed energy and a call from Above that was impossible to ignore.  Every single one of those things that happened this year, and the one before it, and the one before that, on, and on, and on, had been preparing me for something - and doing a good job of it!  (This is a bit I will elaborate on later).  Where my faith was weak before, now it was strong.  Where my joy was small before, it was now huge.  Where my hope dwindled previously, it soared now.  God was using me to do His work - and He knew me only too well - to know just how willing I'd be to do this 'work'.  Purpose.  It was everything.

I will say that my initial reaction to what I saw was an emotional one - akin to when I was a little girl and wanted to give a home to every stray cat.  This is the truth.  But remember, nine days passed between the day I saw that photo, and the day I made the decision to say Yes to God's call.  Over those nine days, I thought of little else.  I read, I learned, I prayed, I researched endlessly, I still do.  The day I started this blog, my words were driven not by a temporary emotion, but by honest, informed determination; and so it has been ever since.  

I am not naive about things to come.  I know the reality.  In one short month I've read and learned so much, watched events unfold.  The road to the place I am today was not an easy one, it was rough and marred by obstacles, one after another.  I expect no less of the road ahead - and I welcome it, because I know, the rewards are great.  Because I know, this is right - and because I have Heaven on my side.  I thought I knew what I was doing, where I was going, and I thought I'd failed, but the truth lies in a quote from one of my favorite movies:  "Maybe God... has a bigger plan for me... than I had for myself."  ~ A Walk To Remember

So, there it was.  2011.  What, for all intents and purposes, should have been the worst year of my life - but for redemption in the Christmas season.  I can't say I'm sorry to bid it farewell, but what I can say, is that I'm excited to see what 2012 brings... and the year after that, and the one after that, and the one after that... on, and on, and on.  

Pieces of a Puzzle

I know I'm not the first one to notice this metaphor, however, I feel it certainly applies to me and my situation with regards to adoption.  I feel as though my adoption of a child, or children, will be a beautiful, completed puzzle; at which point we'll start on another challenging puzzle which is learning to live together as a family and deal with special needs.  But I've always been told to take things one step at a time, and this time, I'm doing the puzzle one piece at a time.

The first couple pieces of the puzzle, were actually pieces borrowed from others' puzzles.  Their stories of adoption, the stories of the children still waiting in orphanages and mental institutions, the videos and photos of children desperately in need of a loving family, which prompted me to open the box and start working on this puzzle.  Creating this blog was another piece.  Tomorrow, I will add yet another piece.

For years I have struggled with endometriosis, a condition which could make me infertile if not treated properly, and even then can sometimes be a cause for infertility for no discernible reason.  To date, I have had two surgeries to remove the endometriosis tissue, and two surgeries to stop internal bleeding following my second surgery.  That was in March, and I was hoping it would bring to an end the pain I have been in nonstop for over a year now.  It provided some respite, but unfortunately, the pain came back, a little bit at a time, and then all the time.  I saw more doctors.  I had more tests done.  Finally, I decided on a course of action.

Because the exact source of my pain could well be a combination of factors, I opted to have surgery to remove my gallbladder via laparoscopy, and have the doctors excise any endometriosis or adhesions they find while they're in there.  In discussion with the surgeon, it was also decided that due to the nature and location of my pain, and its habit of landing me in the emergency room, that it would also be best to remove my appendix.  There are currently no signs that anything is wrong with it, but the endometriosis puts me at a higher risk for problems with it, and while I have it, every time I visit the hospital for pain, they have to do a CT scan to rule out appendicitis, which exposes me to a lot of radiation, which can also be harmful to my fertility as well as my overall health.

So, where that puts us, is scheduled for a laparoscopy tomorrow at 10:40 AM.  I have to be at the hospital two hours early.  In all, the surgery will remove my gallbladder, appendix, and any endometriosis or adhesions that they happen to find.  I am going to request to be kept overnight due to my bad reaction to surgery in March.  I was so close to being sent home then, they were preparing my discharge papers, when I fainted and my blood pressure plummeted.  Had I gone home, I would have likely died.  That's not a risk I'm willing to take; I promised a certain 12-year-old that I would not die on her.

Now, as to why this is a piece of my adoption puzzle, there are two reasons.  The first is that the endometriosis, repeated surgeries, radiation and adhesions all make it more difficult for me to conceive a child naturally.  Since I was 18 I had always known I wanted only one biological child, and after that I would be content to have a hysterectomy to end the effects of the endometriosis.  Most recently, I still hold onto that hope that I will be able to have a biological child, and don't intend to consent to a hysterectomy before that happens, unless it becomes clear that it will not happen, but, this disease was one of the first things that opened my heart to adoption.  I've always known I wanted many children.  Whose genes they have or whose womb they come from is not a matter of great importance to me.  When I was first diagnosed, I remember asking God, why me, why THIS particular disease?  Why did I, a person who wanted more than anything to be a mom, have to get a disease that could lead to infertility?  Couldn't it have been anything else?

But anything else wouldn't be the right piece to fit into my puzzle.  Anything else might've prevented me from starting the puzzle in the first place.  So now, I feel as though I have an answer to those "Whys" I asked so long ago, and continued to ask for years.  God was preparing me for adoption.

The second piece to the puzzle that comes from this surgery is the one that will enable me to be a good mother to my children.  Having been in constant pain for a year, I've struggled to maintain a job and family life while faced with such physical health problems, ones which also hurt my heart.  It is my hope that this surgery will end the pain, at least for most of the time, and allow me to live a happy, healthy life, pursue a well-paying job in order to pay my bills and save for the future of my family, and of course, attach the other pieces of the puzzle.  Getting better, that's the piece of the puzzle I'm working on now.

So it's slow going.  It's one step at a time.  It's for this reason that I thank God that I was called to adoption at such a young age, so I could prepare myself in every way for His will, without feeling rushed to take immediate action (which I am certainly sorry that I can't do, but by putting this puzzle together, piece by piece, I know I'm getting closer and closer to that goal).

Little ones out there, this surgery is as much for you as it is for me.  Dear God, please watch over me and my health as I go into this time of uncertainty, for I feel that truly your work in my life is not finished yet.  I have the potential to do so much more good, to reach the state of happiness I've been striving for all my life.  And there's a few little kiddos out there who would already miss me if I were gone, so please, God, help me with this piece of the puzzle, so I can continue to work on it and complete Your beautiful work of art.

One piece at a time.  Someday, the puzzle will be complete and beautiful, and I will give thanks for all these trials that have led me to this point.  Thank you, God, for showing me the "why".