We've Moved!

Well, Joe and I haven't physically moved, but the blog has.  

Come visit us at www.birdiebeloved.com. 

That's where you will find us from here on out!

It's Not Just a Door...

I bet this looks like just a door to you.  You may think it’s nothing special, just another classroom door that could lead to countless classrooms across the US.  But you would be wrong.  This particular door shows so much more than just the opening your kids walk through everyday to learn reading and writing.  See how the lights are still on on the other side?  This picture was taken last night hours after the laughter and chatter had left the building.  Behind that door is a teacher who is putting in their 11^th hour of the day at school and still has work to be done.  The teacher is correcting papers from the 170 students they see each day, making sure that everyone’s grades get entered, and pouring over the papers to try and understand what’s working and what the students need extra help on, feeling like they themselves have failed as a teacher when one of their students fail. 

            Head across the hallway and you find another teacher just locking up their room.  They’ve been looking over state testing scores, checking to see who is progressing and what topics need to be brushed up on.  If you head up the stairs a science teacher is in the gym for the Science Fair.  She unselfishly gave up her own personal time to sit with the projects so that people could come and see them after their own workday. 

            As you drive away you can see there are a few lone lights still on in classrooms up the hill.  And this is just one night.  Other nights or early mornings you will find music teachers prepping for concerts and plays, math teachers working hard to become familiar with a new curriculum so they can teach it to the kids and make sure they excel.  Teachers grading papers, writing tests, making lesson plans, in meetings, working on report cards, reading research papers, creating activities, worrying about why Susie doesn’t seem to be herself lately or why Tommy hasn’t been turning in assignments.  They want to make sure each child knows their worth, knows they are loved, knows they can do great things while still making sure they know about the Constitution, and cell division, and past participles. 

            The door in the picture mentioned above belongs to a 5^th grade classroom.  The teacher behind that door is my husband.  The teacher across the hall and up the stairs are my coworkers, the lights on in classrooms up the hill belong to my friends, and the teachers you will find all over the US are my mother, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, brothers-in-law, neighbors and cousins.  I have watched first-hand my entire life the love and dedication that is poured out of teachers over so many young minds.  I have seen the tears of frustration and the tears of joy.  Teaching is not for the faint of heart. 

            To all the teachers out there who are feeling exhausted, spread-thin, wondering if you’re doing anything right or making a difference at all, please know that you.are.amazing.

You are doing some of the most noble work that all too often is underappreciated and for what it’s worth, I appreciate you and what you do. 

“A good teacher is like a candle – it consumes itself to light the way for others.”

           

            

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"...But I Don't Feel That Way

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”  At least that’s what the popular Christmas song tells me.  The lyrics of this Christmas classic go on to tell of ‘kids jingle belling’ and ‘everyone telling you be of good cheer’. “It’s the hap-happiest season of all.”

Can I be honest?  Bah-hum-bug.  I can hear you all now… “What a scrooge!”  Trust me, I feel like a scrooge.  But let me explain.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday.  We used to gather with my entire extended family at my aunt and uncle’s place on the lake.  The time spent there would be filled with ice skating, and cooking, and talking, and eating (so. much. eating.), and card games until the early hours of the morning.  We would come home from church and eat meatballs, the cousins would all put on our matching pajamas from Grandma, and everyone would pile around the big Christmas tree while we opened presents, always in order from youngest to oldest, one by one until all had been opened.  Some of my most favorite memories of my childhood are tied to those activities.

But it’s been awhile since we had a Christmas like that.  It’s not a bad thing necessarily, it’s just different now.  Family members have moved far away, we’ve lost a precious aunt and grandma isn’t here anymore.  The cousins have grown up, some in college, some married, and some having kids of their own. 

The thing is, I thought I’d be apart of the group “having kids of their own” this year.  A year ago today was our first and only frozen embryo transfer.  I can recall that day with crystal clear precision.  How I felt when I woke up that morning, what I ate for breakfast at the diner we went to, anxiously waiting in the procedure room, taking one last picture with Joe as ‘just the two of us’, driving home but making sure we stopped by McDonalds first for some salty french fries (infertility superstition hocus-pocus), and the 3 days of bed rest that followed.

The Christmas season is hard for infertiles.  It’s a time of conflicting emotions because everyone seems to be filled with holiday cheer and you know you should be too, but you just. can’t.   It’s the little things.  You’re at a holiday party and someone starts flipping through pictures on their phone of when they took their kids to see Santa last week and little Tommy cried the entire time.  Or you receive the Christmas cards from people you don’t really talk to and it’s their kids’ faces plastered all over the front of it.  Or when you gather for Christmas and you’re the only one without kids running around. 

Christmas is a definitive marker of another year gone by.  Another year of hope that has passed and it becomes easier to believe that every Christmas will be like this…childless.  Looking back I wish we would not have done our transfer so incredibly close to Christmas.  This year it seems to be consuming me, the reminders of what was happening a year ago.  Full of so much hope and excitement only to be completely crushed 4 days after Christmas.  Those hopes just like a Christmas tree that a few days earlier was pretty and shiny and brought such joy and now lays on the curb stripped of its’ lights and cheery exterior.

By no means am I saying that Christmas celebrations shouldn’t happen because those struggling with infertility and loss are sad.  Please do not take it that way.  But maybe this can be a reminder that the holidays are hard for some people, and that’s ok.  Some will be celebrating Christmas this year without a loved one for the first time.  Some are missing someone they lost years ago.  Some have suffered great loss this past year, some had high hopes that this Christmas would be different and it’s just not.  Some have suffered a miscarriage or pregnancy loss and the thought of celebrating anything at all seems unthinkable.  Allow these people the grace to grieve.  Use this holiday season as the opportunity to show God’s love to those grieving in a very real way.  The holidays are tough…be the one to remind her that she is tougher.

Small Steps Lead to Big Goals

The day we announced to you all that we are adopting was National Adoption Day.  It was part coincidence and part planned.  I had been working on the Birdie Beloved website for awhile and wanted to get it out as soon as possible so people could shop for Christmas.  Everyone buys Christmas gifts and I can’t be the only one who is a sucker for a handmade personalized one.  I thought it would be the perfect jumpstart our fundraising needs.

         I’d be lying if I said the financial aspect of adoption doesn’t stress me out to the max.  The thought of having to save potentially over half of our annual income gives me the nervous sweats and makes the room start to spin. 

         Domestic private adoptions typically range from $32,000-$50,000. (There are factors and situations that can cause it to be below or above that range. We know this. read: foster care) If you read my blog post about ‘Things Not to Say to People Struggling with Infertility’ you may remember one of them was “Why don’t you just adopt?”.  Adoption isn’t cheap ya’ll. This adoption will cost us well over double what our IVF treatments did.  The financial aspect of adoption is enough to keep most people from adopting.  No more than 2% of Americans have adopted a child even though over a third of the population has considered it. 

         I don’t share this information to say “Look at us! Look at the money we are spending!”.  I worry often about what people think since we asked for everyone’s help just over a year ago.  Trust me, that is not lost on us.  I worry people will think we’re begging or that we should just figure it out on our own.  I’ve heard more than once the thoughts of those who believe if a couple can’t afford adoption, then they can’t afford to care for the child and therefore shouldn’t be allowed to have children at all.  That’s about enough to make my head explode…

         I share it because I want people to understand that adoption is amazing, but it’s a huge decision for so many different reasons.  I share it because I want friends and family to understand that if we aren’t able to go on trips with you, or buy big presents, or go out to dinner with you, or if we have to pick and choose which of your children’s fundraisers we are able to support.  It’s not because we are trying to be rude or selfish. 

I share because we are trying and wanting and longing to bring a child into our family so we can go on a family trip with your family, so our child can get super excited to give their best friend that big birthday present they’ve been saving their allowance for.  I share so one day we can go out to dinner and probably be that family whose kids make a mess all over the floor and have a meltdown in the middle of the restaurant because a rogue piece of lettuce touched their french fry.  And gosh darn it I want to send my kids after you to buy cookie dough, and Christmas trees, and frozen pizza and whatever the next ButterBraid fad will be so they can go on the youth group trip with your kiddos.

I share it because I believe it takes a village to raise a child, we just need our village a little sooner or longer than some. 

Our big goal is just that…big.  To make things more manageable (calm my stress levels) our first goal is $4000.  This will allow us to submit our application and officially contract with the agency we have chosen to help.

We would love for you to visit our site www.birdiebeloved.com

There will be new items showing up in the next week or so, keep your eyes open for those!  Have a custom idea in mind? Perfect!  Send us a message, email, or contact us through the website to see if we can help you out. 

Everything you do to help us, no matter how big or how small, plays a significant role in helping to #BringHomeBirdie .  You are literally helping to change a life and we think you’re pretty awesome for that.  We can’t wait to tell Birdie about you!