I know at this point I am looking for the irony in my life, but yesterday provided more fodder. I rarely get a phone call from my adoption agency, so yesterday I picked up right away when I saw the number on the screen. Could this be good news, I thought?

No. Let that sink in: No. Of course not.

I usually try to stay positive, but I also try to be very human and truthful in my writing. Yesterday was not a day that was supposed to be full of happy tears and joy for me. The foreshadowing of that occurred many months ago, though, didn’t it?

On my due date of my last lost, my adoption agency wanted to remind me that we are getting close to needing to update some of our paperwork (fingerprints, U.S. orphan adoption approval, and our homestudy). So, on the day I am reminded already that I am still waiting to parent a child, my agency reminds me further that, yes, I have been waiting so long with no news that it is time to spend more time and money to wait on a process they can tell me nothing about for an indefinite number of months. Basically, “Redo steps A, B, and C and you might not need to redo step D…unless we can’t get our job done by X month. Then, you will have to redo A, B, C, and D on a new form and…” cross your fingers, wiggle your toes, blow milk bubbles out of your nose…and hope for the best.

I’ve talked about my sick pup a number of times, as well, and – just to make sure I didn’t feel like trying to sneak any more positivity into my life – I was up with Hollywood most of the night, comforting him and cleaning up after his sickness. I hate even typing that because I think talking about sick animals is the most disgusting, boring topic ever, but it just fits in oh so well with my day. It was almost as if the universe was telling me not to forget to crumble a little – just for a moment – while I was trying so hard to stay positive.

Frankly, I think I did okay, but – no – the irony was not completely lost on me. I still felt sorry for myself a little bit (which is obvious if you are still reading this). Is that self-compassion or narcissm? I think a little of both. But I am done dwelling on it. I just wanted to stop, just long enough, to shake my proverbial head and share how perfectly wrong my life feels in certain moments.

Cheers to making today a different kind of day! On that note, at least we crammed a bunch of “ick” into one day so as not to ruin the next….Today, I will start anew with positivity and joy! Here’s my finicky, wild pup feeling a billion times better, starting off fresh today as well!

Life supplies a lot of twists and turns. Today is the due date for my fourth child who didn’t make it, and – quite a while back – I was crushed unexpectedly when I found out a friend was due with her son today (after I already knew mine wasn’t viable). I knew then it was selfish, but I had an emotional (and private) reaction. I found out yesterday she had her healthy baby boy a few days ago.

Today, though, is a very different day with a very different perspective. This morning, a dear friend delivered her baby girl. She is a friend who understands my perspective all too well, and gives me support and love on my journey. A friend, who has a story filled with lightness, reminds me today that miracles do happen. She is my Bullets to Blessings friend, a woman who has shared quite a similar journey. Once again, her story and her soul are giving me strength on a day I could be weak. She is giving me hope where it seems none remains. She is reminding me that miracles do happen.

This morning, she went through her first delivery with her fourth child. This is not the first baby she prayed for or named, but it’s the first one she gets to cuddle and kiss. Today, I am not jealous or sad, left to my narrow perspective. Today, I get to celebrate and revel in the truth that sometimes it does work out as planned. I know many who read this blog have had similar struggles, and may currently be going through them, so cement this story of hope into your being. Remind yourself that it gets better. And celebrate the birth of a new, sweet, little girl with a woman who deserves this beautiful moment.

As my blog is slowly and organically growing, I feel a little glowy to be nominated for the Real Neat Blog Award by My Pink Champagne Life! Thank you so much! My blog is anonymous except for a handful or two of the souls dearest to me, so this nomination makes me feel like maybe I am not writing in vain. My Pink Champagne Life actually wrote and published a book, people! Her blog is filled with wit, humor, compassion, and perspective. She blogs about family (adopted and biological which is so cool for me), writing, PTSD and other generally awesome subjects you should check out. I am thrilled she thinks my blog is worthy of reading. So, enough of “Yay for me!” talk. Here are the award rules!

The Rules:

• Put the Award logo in your post.
• Answer 7 questions asked by the person who nominated you.
• Thank the people who nominated you, linking their blogs.
• Nominate any number of bloggers you like, linking to their blogs.

Let them know you nominated them (by commenting on their blogs).

My questions from My Pink Champagne Life:

1. Describe your perfect day. Any perfect day? What a fun dream session. Okay. I suppose I will make it my husband’s birthday because he is so sweet and low key. It’s fun to have a day to spoil him. We would wake up on a chartered sailboat and have mimosas, toasting to him and our beautiful, imperfect life. Our dog, Hollywood, would be with us, too, just eating up the waves and sun. We’d sail until noon, catching glimpses of whales swimming beside our boat. Then we’d dock for lunch on an island with white sand, like in the Whitsundays, and have a fresh seaside lunch and share our dreams over delightful conversation. The afternoon might entail a deck-level nap under the gorgeous open sky and swimming, including a diving contest off the boat with Hollywood jumping and paddling alongside. By night, we’ll watch the stars take their place in the sky after a golden sunset and sharing a birthday dessert. This quiet, collective, and natural day would be the kind of day that invigorates me from the inside out.

2. What do you do to relax? Run, read, solve the world’s problems with my girlfriends, and play games with my husband (we’ve been on a Sequence streak and he wins with about 3-1 odds).

3. What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done recently (that you’re willing to share)? I don’t get embarrassed too easily, so I will have to go back a few years. Having said that, I have recently written about how I have the best massage stories, and here is another one I’ve alluded to in passing only once, I believe, on this blog. A few years ago, I was working full time and my company was going through a huge changeover which I was primarily responsible in more than a few ways. I was also smack-dab in the middle of my graduate program that I did nights after work. I had zero time and was completely fried. I had a big push to get a new website up at the end of the week, and I didn’t know how I would make it through the next few days.

My husband and I had been the highest bidder at a fundraiser on a massage certificate that was about to expire. While neither of us had time to use it, I just couldn’t see it going to waste so I made an appointment, squeezed into a lunch I didn’t have time to take. I thought maybe the time taken would come back to me by being relaxed enough to focus on the next few things that had to get done. I don’t make a practice of talking in massages as they are a real treat to me (I don’t get them very often even though, from my stories, you’d think I was a regular). But, the masseuse was talking here and there, and then made a comment about how, “No one your age should be this tense,” and that’s all it took. I broke out into full out, not-able-to-breathe sobs, right on her table. I was mortified. Between gasps for air I explained to her how surprised I was by my emotions and how this had never happened previously. Long story short, she told me she’d seen grown men lose it more than I had and she gave me a sweet hug after I was dressed and was about to leave.

It still baffles me to think I was this keyed up. The only time I have ever cried in a work setting was 1.5 years later when this same company laid me off, shortly after paying for my grad degree (so I had no way of seeing it coming, thinking I was a valuable investment to them). Eh, well, life is full of surprises and that’s what keeps us growing. So, this is my go-to embarrassing moment, albeit a little sad, too. Actually, now that I type it all out, I was pretty darn embarrassed when I got laid off and then cried about it in front of the men doing the laying off, too.

4. Name three people you’d most like to eat dinner with (dead or alive). 1. Beyonce, for obvious reasons (in case you don’t know what those are, think after dinner dance party and karaoke sesh); 2. Pope Francis (I want to know what he REALLY thinks about gay marriage, birth control, and women leaders in the church); and 3. my dad’s father whom I never got to meet.

5. What would you change about your life? Easy. I would be on my way to meet my Haitian sweetheart and bring him or her home instead of knowing we have 2 years left, give or take, in process. I can’t say I would take back my miscarriages, even the one where I delivered my son. Life is weird that way; I want nothing more, but – yet – I know that just wasn’t either of our paths.

6. What’s your favorite ice cream? Does pastachio gelato count? I first had this in Sydney, a short walk from the opera house, back in 2003. The taste always brings me back to that truly magical oceanside night with the stars shining and fancy people dressed in fancy clothes, climbing the opera house stairs.

7. What’s the best thing that’s happened to you recently? I like this question. As My Pink Champagne Life and I have in common, we like to focus on positivity when we can. I might say that the best thing that has happened to me recently is that I have a new real-life friend. A fun person just moved into my area and we’ve been working out together by day and sharing tea or wine together by evening. Friendship is a wonderful gift.

My Nominations:

I have a small little blog circle along with my small little readership circle, but here are a few blogs that light me up. Ginjuh, Laura, and Frank, there is no pressure to keep this award going. Reply with a post if you’d like; skip it if you’d like. Thanks for being out there for us all!

• Post Secret: This is a crazy cool blog that collects and publishes anonymously written secrets, mostly submitted on creative postcards.
• Ginger’s Grocery: Touching and funny writing about kids, life, and the human condition. She doesn’t take herself too seriously which is something I like to be reminded to do.
• In Others’ Words: She is an inspirational writer, dog lover, and abuse survivor. I love survivors, especially those trying to help others get through their shit buckets.

And Your Questions:

1. What’s Your Happiest Memory?

2. What Motivates You to Keep Blogging?

3. What Is Your Secret Strength (e.g. mine, randomly, is spatial skills)?

4. What’s the Next Place You Want to See?

5. What’s Your Favorite Quality About Yourself?

6. What Lights You Up?

7. What Holiday is Your Favorite?

Women hold up half the sky.   – Mao Zedong

In belated honor of International Women’s Day, I have to acknowledge how much I love women. (Warning: this is a bit of a long post so settle in!) First, I loooove people. There is nothing better than a hysterical laughing-attack, an unexpected note in the mail, or a deep conversation held during a walk or over a favorite beverage. I am often surrounded by men in my work industry, as well as my husband’s work industry. I appreciate males’ inkling to be straight-forward and sometimes light-hearted or goofy. I appreciate that I can send a blunt work email and not worry (too much) about how many ways it can be analyzed. I never can relate when women talk about their catty, estrogen-fueled, office environments. However, as much as I appreciate certain masculine tendencies, I am so thrilled to be a woman whom is surrounded by so many enlightening, empowered, beautiful women, and I cannot imagine a world without these intelligent souls, bringing intangible gifts into my life daily.

The most inspiring women I know have varying outward identities. They are scientists, business executives and owners, stay-at-home-moms, doctors, fitness coaches, spiritual mentors, and health care workers. They are vibrant, warm, and have an unmistakable intelligence behind their gaze. They reinvent themselves as they share the limelight with their significant others and their children. They have been sexually-abused, fired during maternity leave, often eyed hungrily and inappropriately (whether showing flesh or not), and been passed up for promotions by women and men. They are survivors, and they are still soft and gentle. Being a woman is definitely multi-faceted, invigorating, and challenging.

Personally, I don’t recollect being judged as “female/other” until I was out of high school. It seemed, until that point, I was equal to all within the body I carry. I am not sure if that came from a lack of awareness or a protective “bubble” environment, but I am thankful for either answer since I was able to develop confidently and without fear. Around 19 years old, I noticed a shift.

I remember reading The Awakening for an American Lit class and, looking back, I realize I had an incredibly narrow view of the female perspective. I remember arguing over my conservative paper with my more feminist, male professor. Long story short, I am so thankful to men like him who challenged my traditional and narrow views of the roles of women, especially in romantic relationships.

I am less thankful for the men I remember, in no less than half a dozen instances, that degraded my existence, based on the fact that I am female…assaults with a broad range of implications, including uninvited, inappropriate touches and words from strangers, friends, family, and co-workers (one resulting in me filing a sexual harassment claim within my first 6 months at my first job out of undergrad). Although I feel fortunate to not have experienced rape or anything close to rape (and we all know the alarming statistics for that – even just in America), I have been judged based on my female anatomy multiple times.

I have been blamed for coming home with slashed tires from a street festival because I was wearing, essentially, a V-neck shirt by my ultra-conservative, well-intentioned, but extremely off-base-on-this-one father. (I thought about leaving that experience out because some of you know the identity of my father and know how wonderful he is; although, if I left that out, what story is being told? What behavior is being protected? Even amazing humans can make mistakes in a cloud of prejudices.) I was told by my boss he was hesitant to let me present at a multi-million dollar project interview because he was afraid I would be perceived as a planted distraction because of my looks. I have had my rear grabbed by a friend of a friends…while my future husband (then-boyfriend) was in the same room (that shows a lack of respect to both of us). I have been (questionably) laid off because I answered an owner truthfully when asked if I was thinking about starting a family soon. My personal examples extend much further than this. Having said all of the above, though, I have never been mistaken for a “party girl”, model, or someone who just has routine, poor judgment. I believe my experiences are hyper-typical to the female experience. What a sad sentence to write.

And there is more. As women, we have the distinct honor to carry our children. We know with privilege always comes responsibility. In my case, as most of my readers know, this has carried great sadness. My husband gets asked how his work is going while I get asked why we don’t have a family yet. (This is a familiar topic of mine.) My husband accepts social invitations while I wonder how I will hide the fact that I am not having a glass of wine since I don’t want people to know I am five weeks pregnant and have a history of losing babies. My husband goes in and out of a dentist appointment in a breeze and I get stuck letting the hygienist know about my last hospitalization which somehow makes it seem appropriate for her to discuss my miscarriages openly with her for the next hour. It is an honor to be a woman, but it does come at a price.

There are unique advantages, too. How many times have I had my door opened for me, my chair pulled out for me to sit down, or – when dating – a man insisting on treating me to dinner? How many times have men and women been extra kind, helpful or polite because of my femininity? (Man who asked me in 2010 if he could pump my gas for me because he does it for all “handicapped and women” … I am NOT talking to you! I politely declined his stunning offer.)

It has to be said that, although women are brave and resourceful, I believe men would be doing the same things if they were women. Does my husband wish he could shoulder a fair share of the physical, emotional, and social pain of our miscarriages? Absolutely. Did my boss stumble over his words and then apologize after realizing he shouldn’t have been afraid to let me do my job by presenting that project proposal to our client? Without a doubt. I believe our perspectives make us who we are, and make us choose how we choose, and we all are not so different, regardless of sex, gender, color, or other distinguishable characteristic.This isn’t said to diminish women and our strength or spiritual gifts. The unique journey – the journey of being female and having a female perspective – is still so important to our human experience (whether male of female). This is said, instead, to make the tie between us all…to say that if we celebrate one, we should celebrate all without compromise or competition. The wild, cosmic energy we carry within us continues to delight and surprise us, even when faced with the adversities met with being female. So, today I am celebrating the women in my life, as I believe we all should. I am celebrating the grit behind the experience, and the compassionate, wise women whom routinely rise above, and with, their beautiful, female bodies.

Moving on from my last, sad post, I wanted to write about some positive changes I have noticed in my life recently. Last week I attended a week-long, industry event with my husband and I noticed some subtle improvements from the last time I attended one of these (in early December 2014). I always run with one of the wives and, typical of running partners, you become great companions and supporters of each other. I noticed how my dialogue with my friend on these runs had changed in those short three months.

I noticed I was less attached to the Big Hurts I have experienced in the past few years. I noticed that, even though I don’t have any more solutions than I did three months ago, I could talk about these Big Hurts with less pain and tense, controlling energy. When several good-natured people asked me about family planning, I was able to answer with the truth of our situation – with various levels of reveal about the miscarriages, losing Adam Gabriel, and adopting – without feeling shame, embarrassment, or apologetic…all emotions that I have commonly felt even though I know I don’t deserve to feel any of those ways.

To me, this felt like a big improvement. To be able to bring my full self, with all of my experiences, into an authentic conversation without worry about how the truth would negatively reflect on me signaled that I am making strides of healing. I am owning reality without being too scared of it anymore. As I have written in various ways many times before (and even yesterday), the healing is often two steps forward and one step back. Recognizing the moments of forward movement is energy-producing and even hope producing. I try to hang on to those.

When we heal and share ourselves, it’s a snowball effect of sorts; I’ve realized that when I share a more authentic version of my experiences – however vague or detailed – others share too. Sometimes they share similar experiences they have survived, and other times they just share a recognition that they understand I have been through something painful and they wish I hadn’t had that heartbreak.

I write about connecting with others often and it never ceases to amaze me how many wonderful situations and connections have come out of my Big Hurts. I don’t know if I will ever say the connections were worth the crushing sadness, but there is a chance maybe one day I will. It is refreshingly true that good can be produced from the most opposite circumstances.

One of the most freeing lessons to learn is that It’s Not About Me. The pressure we put on ourselves and others because we are only concerned with our perspective often is debilitating and stifling. When I remember there is a whole world going on out there that doesn’t have anything to do with me, I can relax, calm down, and even be kinder and more compassionate.

Now, am I always grown up enough to remember this? Of course not! Sometimes my personal circumstance blinds my maturity…and sometimes I feel like there is just no way out of feeling what I feel. For instance, when I get jealous (which actually is a rare emotion for me), the anguish spreads quickly. It’s a snowball effect; I let myself feel like a victim and then my pain searches for other thoughts on which to cling. Enter my negative list I have mentioned previously. And then, quite obviously, that only reminds me of all the negatives I perceive in my life, many which I have no control over changing by rewriting history or becoming someone I am not. So, I end up overwhelming myself with toxic thoughts that I have to try to break down when I could have just said, “This is not about me!”

When we are gentler with ourselves, allowing our pain to be recognized but then – and this is important – realizing the world is oh so much bigger than us and our pain, we stop feeling we need to control everything. We stop criticizing the things that have or have not happened. Maybe we realize that we can be happy for others and sad for ourselves. Maybe we can realize we feel overlooked but no one meant for us to feel overlooked. We are humbled – by our smallness – into peace. 

I have received a lot of snippets of good advice lately. One was from a friend who pretends she is receiving information in third person when she knows the topic will be hard for her heart to digest. By listening “in third person” she can more objectively etch out healthy responses and solutions for herself and her behaviors. Brilliant!

Another wise woman recently shared with me a stressful decision she had to make. A friend had asked her for an important and life-changing favor, but she didn’t know if she felt right doing what her friend asked her to do. When this woman asked her spiritual director what to do, she was told, “Why do you have to have an opinion?” What a simplification! By not imposing our own opinions (feelings, circumstances, etc.,), we can more fully love and cherish those around us. (Obviously this doesn’t imply that you should be a pushover, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could stop being judgmental when something isn’t causing any harm in this world?)

When we realize our perspective is naturally self-centered, we also realize others have the same perspective for themselves. This means that they aren’t really paying attention to us! So, why do we give ourselves so much importance?! And, being self-centered doesn’t necessarily make us – or them – selfish, thoughtless, conniving, or overpowered by any other negative adjective. It simply means we are all trying to make a place for ourselves and we are doing our best. We all need help sometimes. We all need to realize we are imperfect…and that’s a perfectly worthy and beautiful thing to be.