Wee-wind Wednesday

Around this time in 2005, my blog was only a few months old, and I was writing it, mainly, to update people on our quest to be parents. 

My wee-wind post today flashes back to 2005.  We were waiting (not so patiently) for the Infertility Clinic at Mayo Clinic to reopen after a year reorganizing themselves. I had just had my fifth failed attempt with IUI (artificial insemination)

and had received a call that my first try with IVF would be sometime in early 2006. 

I wrote:

I must say that we are a place of total peace with IVF, however, I also have a sense of total trust that the Lord can change our direction and can also bless us with a natural pregnancy as well. I am also at peace with the fact that we aren't going to be able to conceive like everyone else. My friend Sam reminded me last night that our kid will only know how badly they weren't wanted -- so badly that we went to all this trouble.

This past week, my husband fell in love with Hannah. 

Where's Waldo. I mean JB. Can you find amongst the sea of little people?

Let me explain.

Not that he hasn't always loved her mind you, but JB is not shy about saying that while he fell in love with Isaac the moment we drove away from the hospital, with each of our biological children, that intense feeling of "you are mine" has taken longer to come by. He's pretty sure it's because with each of our subsequent children, he ended up paired with the big sibling while I dealt with the newcomer.

For example, when Sidge was born in rapid succession of Isaac, JB paired up with Isaac. They went everywhere together and did everything while I took care of the baby. The same thing happened the next two times. Big siblings needed him! (And, truthfully, Isaac was like the best and sweetest baby in the history of the universe.)

Sidge was such a difficult baby. I remember JB holding him when he was a few weeks old as Sidge just screamed and screamed. JB looked at me and smirked. When I asked him what was so funny he managed to mumble over the intense screaming permeating our Eglin Air Force Base home, "People worry that they won't love their adopted children as much. But I worry I won't love my biological child as much."

Of course the love grew to be nothing short of equal. But each time a new baby has joined us, I have peppered JB with "Is baby in the club yet?"

By in the club I meant: Do you have that feeling of "you are the coolest thing ever?" yet.

This past week, Hannah has started squirming to get out of my arms when Daddy comes home. She wants him. She climbs up on him. She gives him a hug and pats his arm. She talks to him and looks at him and ... well ... 

she melted him.

This past week I asked JB, "Is Hannah in the club yet?"

And he nodded.

Hannah.

Hannah was an embryo. Created sometime in 2006. Who sat on ice for years and years. She was one of dozens of embryos that went home to heaven.

But she is here.

My friend Carla joked that she is our $50,000 baby.

Pretty close.

And worth every penny.