The last little thing we have to do on our end is attend an infant care class, and today's the day. The Women's Hospital is allowing us to step into one class in a series of workshops on birthing and child care, so we'll be in class for two hours this afternoon. Then we mail off that last signature and start the home study process. We expect to be on a waiting list by the end of the summer.
What a process. On Monday, I have an appointment with Dr. Yalcincaya, our wonderful reproductive endocrinologist. I'll have an ultrasound to check out what's going on. For the last week, I've been giving myself shots and taking pills. Last night, our power went out right at the time I had to prepare the syringe and give myself the shot, so Stan held his phone up so that I could get enough light to see what I was doing. At one point, I thought, Really? Are we supposed to go through this much to be parents? Blue Cross won't cover this last round of meds, so I've paid out about $900 for the medication.
June will be it for us. Six years. Three surgeries. Miscarriage. Rounds of meds and procedures. Ironically, I've become much more excited about adoption than pregnancy; I don't think of it as our second choice but rather as an adventure. God is good, and I believe he is still at the podium, orchestrating it all.
