Still Here

I've written a lot, in my prayer journal, in random spirals that I keep around the house, even on spare slips of paper I come across when my mind won't turn off at bedtime.  But on blogger? Every time I sit down, my hands still.  My mind blanks. 

The first half of July was hard. Very hard.  Loss does not get easier the more you experience it.  And though it eases with time, the echoes of "what might have been" are still there.

And then the twins turned four.  There was planning and crafting on my part and way too much time on pinterest.  And then laughter and celebration with friends.  Forty-plus people here - how did that happen?!

And then there was a work ceremony for Bryan.  Something we had been waiting for since January, planning since May.  And it finally happened last week.  Outside.  Well, sort of, in an open air building.  In the Texas heat. 

And now July is drawing to a close. 

Friends have moved/are moving.  Seasons of life for a military wife.

Making plans for a little family getaway sometime in August.  We're horrible about actually taking a vacation.  I've put my foot down and said We Are Going!

September approaches and our last transfer looms into view.  Next cycle.  Will this be it, finally?

But August comes first.  And we will take our little vacation.  And enjoy the present moment.

7 Quick Takes

Linking up with Conversion Diary.

1.  We're at the in-laws' this weekend for several festivities.  However, the first thing that occupied our time upon arrival was letting our Great Dane, Hank, meet their new dog, Dax, a Malamute.  This turned into a several hour game of chase for the two dogs.  In case you are curious, one Dane and one Malamute is a lot of dog.  They're both passed out now which is good as we can all recover from their enthusiasm.

2.  Tomorrow is my 11th wedding anniversary.  As a special gift to my husband, I've lost my voice and am barely talking.  ;-)  I jest, but there are probably spouses everywhere who are envious of my husband's good fortune.

3.  It seems ironic that after seeing a slate article talking about the potential health hazards of participating in mud runs, namely ingesting dirty mud, that I'll be doing just that tomorrow.  A mud run. Not ingesting mud.  No thanks, my mouth stays closed! This is sort of an anniversary treat for us, completing a land version of Wipeout accessorized with foam and mud.  I know, I know, not what you might chose for an anniversary outting.  What can I say?  We're weird folks.

4.  I am following a local homeschool consignment group on Facebook.  Last week I bought my first purchase, our reading book for $6 in brand new condition (normally $22).  I was inordinately pleased with my deal.  On the other hand, every time someone lists Handwriting Without Tears for sale, it's gone in a flash and I miss it.  Seriously, yesterday I viewed a listing that had been claimed two minutes after it was listed.  Two minutes!  I can't compete with that!

5.  We finished our preschool coop this past Tuesday.  It is truly amazing how that little group grew together through the year and how much we're going to miss everyone next year.  Darn military lifestyle!  (All four of us families have active duty husbands; at least two of the four are moving this summer and one is in limbo.).  I tried to post a picture, but blogger and the iPad are not cooperating.


6.  Sunday we will be celebrating my brother-in-law's college graduation and his military commissioning.  Bryan got to commission him last weekend.  Pretty sweet deal.

7.  My sister is returning from Estonia where she put her National Guard skills to use covering a story on bomb disposal techniques.  I'll just let you ponder that one for a moment. There aren't really words I can use to describe that...

And, on that note, have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.    Obviously I have a special fondness for our service members, but I think most people will have at least one family member who has sworn to protect  and defend our nation, either in the past or currently.  Thank you.

Quiet Heroism

Bryan was tasked with “escort detail” for one of the Soldiers injured in last week’s shooting at Fort Hood.  More than anything, Bryan is acting as the liaison for this man and his family.  Only Bryan and a dedicated Public Affairs Officer (PAO) will be allowed to contact the family.  All other information will be relayed through Bryan.  And trust me, there’s been a constant stream of information.

 

As you can imagine, Bryan has acquired an increased knowledge of both the injured party and some of the surrounding circumstances.

 

By now you probably have heard the stories or at least read the brief biographical blips of the deceased.  Through the course of the last few days, I have learned stories that show these injured Soldiers also acted with bravery.  They shun the public eye and rest with their families, hoping for a return to “normal,” whatever that may be.  They are the quiet heroes.

 

Bryan’s escortee and another Soldier fled the shooter’s path.  They escaped into the commander’s office but still feared for their safety.  Bryan’s escortee broke the window and both men slipped outside unnoticed by the shooter.  They then began collecting other escapees and herding them to a safe location.  Due to the adrenalin surge, Bryan’s escortee didn’t even notice he was bleeding until a first responder pointed it out.  He reluctantly allowed himself to be stitched up – he had multiple lacerations on his hands from the window escape.

 

As an aside, this was Bryan’s escortee’s first day on the job (not new to Fort Hood, just to the brigade).  He had just picked up his office key that morning.  It’s safe to say that he has had a "trial by fire" introduction to his new position.

 

I heard another tale that made me chuckle, even in the face of such tragedy.  A young Soldier was helping barricade a conference room with chairs.  The room’s occupants heard the weapon fire at the door and then the Soldier cried out incredulously, “I’ve been shot!”

 

He then reached down and plucked the bullet out of his chest. (!!!!)

 

“Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have done that,” he was heard to say as the blood began to pour forth.

 

Apparently, the bullet lost most of its momentum when it smashed through the door.  By the time it crashed into the Soldier’s ACU zipper, it was already mostly flattened.

 

The Soldier is recovering nicely and was released from the hospital over the weekend.

 

 

 

From what I can tell, the military is trying to take care of its own.  Meals are being arranged; personal drivers are available too, as needed.  Battalions are banding together to offer support, both physical and mental.  Unfortunately, there is some turmoil as the various groups try to assist the injured and their families.  There’s not a lot of continuity or communication between various parties and it’s often up to the escort to try and straighten things out and prevent duplication.  In this instance, I can see how the military is similar to a large family, full of faults and folly but bound together in love and support for one another.

 

 

I’ve learned recently that though the media sees the military full of crazies and potential PTSD sufferers, reality is quite different.  There is a quiet force in the military moving forward, fulfilling their duties, yes, but moving beyond the call of the job.  They’re not motivated just by some sort of patriotism but often something higher, a sense of duty to their fellow man.  The three fallen will be honored tomorrow, but I want to remember more.  I want to honor those who were injured, many of them in the midst of acts of bravery.  I want to honor those in the affected units – their hearts are heavy yet life doesn’t slow for them to grieve.  I want to honor those supporting units – though the grief is not their own, they are lending help and care.  There are many quiet heroes who would deflect the public eye.  “Just doing my job” I’m sure they’d say. 


You all have my thoughts and prayers and thanks. 


 

Crossroads

While I never had my suspicions confirmed, I'm pretty sure the first genetic parents to consider our matching profile turned us down.  If I had to guess, I'd say our "rejection" was due to religious reasons.  Option A:  We're too religious.  Option B:  We're not religious enough.  Option C:  We're the wrong religion. 

                                                      Option D:  I look funny. 

Whatever their reasoning, I'm not actually bothered at all.  I'd argue that it's part of the genetic parents' responsibility to find suitable adoptive parents for their embryos.  That's not a decision that can be lightly made and I can only hope that they find peace in their decision.  That being said, I understand that not everyone can fully appreciate our awesomeness. ;-)

We're pretty openminded in our matching criteria.  We're open to most races and questionable family history/genetics don't scare us.  Oh, and we would prefer a semi-open adoption, mediated by the agency (with room for adaptation, per the children's request).  There are probably only two limiting factors in matching us:  we want a large enough embryo set to do another transfer down the road, a "sibling transfer"; and we do not want embryos created with donor gametes (donor eggs or donor sperm).  Well, I guess our religion limits us some too - there's one public profile on Snowflake's page that says "no Catholics".  It would stand to reason that there are more like-minded families that do not have public profiles.

Anyway, I got an email from the Snowflake Program Monday morning.  They said they'd met some roadblocks in honoring all our criteria and wanted to present us with some options (4 actually).  After much discussion and prayer, we're now angling down a slightly different path.  At this point we're now attempting to be matched with two families, each family having a smaller (single transfer's worth) of embryos.  Only one set of embryos would be thawed at a time, so while both sets would be adopted, one set would be "on hold" for a longer period of time.

I'm actually really excited about this option but know it could spell more of a logistical nightmare for the agency and potentially the clinic, depending on how picky the latter is.

While I don't have the foggiest idea who we will end up matched with, I did provide the Snowflake Program with some direction.  There are three profiles that caught our eye on the "waiting embryos" page.  I passed on these names to Snowflake for consideration:  "Kay and Fred", "Margaret and Charlie", and "Carl and Sadie". 

On top of all that hullabaloo (sp?), we also have had some minor drama with taxes and Bryan's job. 

Taxes - I think my dad saved us MAJORLY.  We've never filed before as rental property owners and, as best we can tell, our basic version of Ta.xcut, plus our inexperience with certain areas of filing, left us screwed over.  Enter my dad.  While I don't have the final numbers yet, I think my dad (tax guru to family and friends) saved the day!

Bryan's job - Big interview today at 1800 CT.  Numbers keep changing, but I think he's one of nine candidates for a very important slot.  This job would be fantastic for his career and would also bring us extra money.  But, it would be LOUSY for family life for the next twelve months.  I'm just praying that he interviews to the best of his ability while maintaining honesty about his personal needs/wants.

So, yeah, that's that.  My brain's been a little frazzled.  I'm trying hard not to be overwhelmed by the various and sundry "what if" scenarios my brain keeps throwing at me.  Personal prayer, Mass, social time, and wine have all helped me cope thus far...

 

Edited: Not What I Had In Mind

It looks like we'll be moving in the spring/summer 2012. 

~ we will have to attempt to sell our house

~ we might possibly lose our entire savings in selling our house

~ we might have to push adoption back indefinitely if our savings get wiped out



God works in wonderful, mysterious ways.  Right now I'm just seeing the mysterious side of things.

EDIT:  I guess we should feel fortunate that the military is giving us this much advance warning of the move.  Bryan has to attend a six month school here and then we'll move.  He only had 23 days notice for his deployment, so half a year notice is much better.  And renting is an option, if an appraisal comes back insanely low.  I'll just leave it that neither the military nor the economy is helpful when it comes to adopting!