Baby for Becky

Baby for Becky Fundraiser

One of the sisters on our team has been struggling for years to increase her family.  She has learned that they will need either medical intervention or adoption to reach this goal.  We will be selling a new product of “Easter Story Eggs,” and all proceeds from this product will go to support her and her family.

Becky is a natural mother.  She is gentle, fair, understands a kid’s point of view, possesses a great sense of humor, and most important of all, has so much love to give.  The family has long hoped for a second child for Becky and grieved when we learned that she could no longer conceive (see Becky’s story.) More than anything, we want to give her a chance to have a second baby and her first child a chance to have a little sibling.  (And of course, the rest of us can’t get enough of these sweet nieces and nephews.) All proceeds from our Easter Story Eggs go to A Baby For Becky, and a very generous anonymous donor has promised that if we can raise $5,000 they will match it. Buy a set for yourself, for family and friends, or feel free to simply donate money to the cause without purchasing anything. Follow our website to see how close we are to our goal – we’ll update it daily so everyone can see our progress! You can pre-order now and select two-day shipping to ensure Easter delivery. Thank you for your support.

“Becky’s Story”

In 2004, a year and a half after Justin and I were married, I developed a large ovarian cyst that twisted my right fallopian tube and brought us to the ER and surgery.  We were told at that time that it would likely take us longer to get pregnant than other couples because during surgery, a portion of my tube had to be removed.  I only had one working side left.
Okay, we thought.  We’ll pray and we’ll see.  We believe in miracles.
Four years later in 2007, after lots of prayers and hoping and waiting and more prayers and many miracles, Julia Joy was born.  She is our miracle and we love her beyond measure.
How miraculous her coming to us was became even more clear last November when I had to go in for yet another cystectomy, this time on my left side.  Our doctor found that endometriosis had scarred my other tube so badly that it was also closed.  Pregnancy, without expensive medical intervention, was now impossible for us.  I woke up in a hospital bed to my sweet husband sadly telling me the news.

We’ve cried a lot since then.

And held each other.
A poem I wrote during my recovery captures, a little, what that period was like: “Goodnight, Dreams.”  It’s nothing profound–just a slow, sad waltz that my soul seemed to be living in for a while.

I’ve always known that I wanted to be a mother, that I would love to be a mother.  When Julia was born, what surprised me most was how momentous and amazing being a mother really was.  I loved being pregnant.  I was morning sick for most of it and pre-eclamptic at the end but even so, it was an incredible experience to grow a human.  I miss that.  I loved nursing.  I miss that too.  I loved her baby stage…and her toddler stage…and her preschool stage…and now her kindergarten stage.  It’s beautiful, to be a parent and to love someone so completely and to care for them and watch them grow.  To say “We have loved every minute of it” would be a cliche understatement of the grandest truth of my life.

We aren’t ready to be done yet.  We want Julia to have siblings and we want siblings to have Julia. 🙂  (I’m reminded of one of our blog posts, titled “What a Big Sister She Would Make.”)  I want to cuddle and feed our babies, to rock them to sleep, to let Julia help me take care of them, to watch them grow up together, to teach our other babies and thrill watching them take their first steps and read their first book and play and quarrel and forgive and go puddle jumping, together.

I’ve read before that the pain of infertility is made worse by its open-ended nature.  Justin and I can attest to this–the monthly cycle of hoping-hopes-dashed, hoping-hopes-dashed for years was brutal.

While our diagnosis last fall was difficult to receive, at least it was an answer with some sort of finality.  We have grieved.  And we are moving on now to whatever comes next.

On my 30th birthday, I wrote my blessings and my wishes on balloons.  Julia helped me let them go and we sat together on the grass and watched them float heavenward.  On one of the balloons (pictured in this post), I had written “The hope of another baby.”  Justin, Julia, and I would love nothing more than to add another member to our family.  Be it through in vitro or adoption, we are willing and anxious to begin.
Our graduate school adventures are another story for another day–while incredibly grateful for everything we’ve learned and how we’ve grown together, the financial burden we now have from them was one reason why our infertility diagnosis was difficult to take.  How could we afford in vitro or adoption?

Then a miracle happened.

An anonymous donor agreed to match $5000 of our own money to cover a cycle of in vitro or to cover adoption fees.  We are grateful beyond words for the generosity of Traditions We Treasure for their support in helping us reach the initial $5000.  Thank you!

If you would like to learn more about our family and our experiences with infertility, you are welcome to visit our blog howaboutcupcake.blogspot.comand click on the “Infertility” label.  In addition to the links embedded above, here are a few more posts that capture some of our journey so far:

On Hope (& Infertility), August 2012
A Thousand Years, November 2013
In Response, November 2013
On Hope (& Infertility) – Reprise, November 2013

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