What I learned - Microblog Monday

Sorry for the radio silence.

I was trying like crazy to finish my book before the writing conference this weekend.
I didn't.
I'm about 6000 words out--a little more because the conference made me see a glaring error that I did two chapters ago and I have to fix now.

One of the breakout sessions I took was about storytelling--oral and written.

We were to write about times in our life when we needed help.

This is what I wrote.

My goddaughter turned one.

A year after her mother's four-day labor. A year after my eyes caught my husband's as I held her. We went home and cheerily threw out the birth control pills We joyfully went about the business of adding to our family. It would be easy, right, I mean I'd spent so long hearing that it only takes one time. It had been a year full of periods that were always on-time. I wasn't worried-much.

My goddaughter turned three.

Three years of hearing "great news!" from my friends until we were the only ones of our group who wanted a chid and were without. Three years of worry and once a month depression. Two years after sitting in a doctor's office answering aseptic intimate questions and hormone shots that made me question my sanity and reason for living.

My goddaughter turned six.

A year after we started the process to "Just Adopt." Social worker--a lovely one who would become our advocate--came to our house to decide if we were worthy to parent. We had to ask our friends to write us recommendations. We had to ask other people to help us become parents. No one else seemed to have this trouble. I had been losing friends who told me horrible things. Some forever.

My goddaughter turned eight.

No one invites us to baby showers anymore--nor should they. Mother's Day has become a landmine of epic proportions. After waiting to adopt for three years and realizing it could be another three we decide to try IVF. It doesn't work.

My goddaughter turned ten.

People tell us to get out of the line for China. We say no--that's where she is.  We've been waiting for five years, We see ourselves getting closer. But the wait is still so long. We renew our paperwork and pray.

My goddaughter turned thirteen.

She joyfully swings my daughter in her arms. My goddaughter laughed and my beautiful little girl giggles the way only a one-year-old can with her whole body.  After the laughter my daughter reaches for me.
My goddaughter gives me boxes of her old clothes, that her mother saved for me. Her mother, my heart-sister never doubted that we would watch our two children playing together.
Our child lights up our world and, even today, I don't know that the joy would be as much without the struggle and the help.