An untitled post. Oh wait...I just titled it.

I can hear the engines die, stalling,

I can see the clouds go by, falling,

I can feel my senses fry, dissolving,

But I still know my way home.

Gawd there is so much to say, but I really don't know where to begin.

I'm sitting here staring at the keyboard, my right ovary aching and aching, like it always does, right on time, as it nears ovulation.

We're adopting--it's true. But my body keeps on doing what it was designed to do--release an egg each month. A pretty useless egg, but an egg nonetheless.

I wish I could tell you that when you cross over into adoption the pain of infertility dissolves away, but you're smart enough to know that's not true. Adoption helps you cope with one loss and one loss only regarding infertility--and that's the loss of the ability to parent. And for that, I know I will be eternally grateful.

But my body still thinks it can procreate. Stupid, stupid body. And I still hurt over that stupid, stupid body.

Our dreams have shifted--we no longer talk about the genetic baby we would have created together. Instead, we talk about the diverse family we will create together.

It's going to be intense. It's going to be crazy. I'm sure we'll make one million mistakes.

But we just couldn't wait any longer.

Our hearts were aching to be parents.

We still feel alone--no one in our circles have adopted. We don't know any other infertiles in real life for whom treatment never worked. We must branch out and get to know some new friends in real life that have chosen this path.

Or did this path choose them/us?

As far as details, for now, I'll keep it brief.

We're adopting internationally. Our dossier has been officially registered for over two months now.

And so now we wait.

And try not to think about it. About the fact that a baby we might be lucky enough to parent is probably in utero now. Probably without the benefit of prenatal care. Probably under less than ideal circumstances. Probably without anyone pampering the mother, like I would have been.

Oh guys--I would have been such a pampered pregnant woman because I have the best husband in the world. Damn I'm going to miss that, something else that you miss without ever having had it in the first place.

I try not to think about a mother halfway around the globe who touches her belly and probably already knows she will not be able to parent her baby. And her heart is breaking.

Mine breaks for her, too.

I can hear the engines die, stalling,

I can see the clouds go by, falling,

I can feel my senses fry, dissolving,

But I still know my way home.