When Leslie first joined the Coast Guard, I told him that it was fine with me but there were three places I did not EVER want to live in. My list went like this :
1 New York
2 Alaska
3 Guam
Our second duty station was New York. So when Leslie came home from work one day and talked of being transferred, I laughed and said it better not be to Alaska. I mean, I had all that I could handle at that point, I was in complete turmoil and my heart was broken, I couldn't even think of moving there.
Leslie went to a meeting with the Detailer.
Leslie called me on the phone.
Leslie said I should drive to the station and talk with him.
Leslie nearly died that night.
Yes, we got word, we were headed to Alaska, number 2 on my list of places I NEVER wanted to live. You gotta love Military Life.
It got worse though. We were headed to Alaska but then Leslie would be leaving for SIX FREAKING MONTHS to go with the crew to get a new boat. In Wisconsin and then they would have to pilot that damn thing all of the way around the world to get it back to it's home port.
I think what helped me go along with this was the numbness. The complete numbness. I was grieving but I had no idea for who or what really and I had no idea HOW to do it.
So, we moved.
One day I had that single round of AI. Three days later I was in an airplane for the first time in my life-moving to Alaska.
One of my very first tasks there in Homer was to get a Doctor's appointment and confirm with blood work the negative pregnancy test. I learned at that Doctor's visit that the AI didn't take. I wasn't pregnant. I also learned that the nearest Fertility Clinic was four hours away in Anchorage. I learned that I couldn't even get an appointment there before Leslie headed off on travels for the CG. I learned essentially, that I was up a shit creek and never had a paddle-fertility wise. Then, finally then, I could figure out was I was grieving for. I lost a baby. Not just any baby- all of my babies. All of those beautiful dream babies with dark brown hair and eyes and curls. Every single chance was gone. I was lost.
Leslie and I limped our way through as best we could. His 6 month trip wasn't to start for a few months but he did have many schools and pre-trips to Wisconsin during this time.
Our move to Alaska was in October of 2002. I was about to experience my first Alaskan Winter-alone and hopeless.
I didn't get a job for awhile. I couldn't. I could hardly manage to feed myself after Leslie left. I took out a pen and I marked a day on the calendar, I think it was around six weeks from the day that Leslie left. I used every minute of those 6 weeks to grieve, that was my plan. I did nothing else that I can remember. Oh yes, I remember. I fell in love. With Alaska. With Homer. With the people I was being forced (due to the small population) to talk to. With the way that you could smell the glaciers in the air. With the way the sky would bunch up with gray clouds that marched out across the bay.
Eventually my six weeks came due and I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and I decide that it was time to get a shimmy on. I got a job. I got friends. I got a plan.
Even when I was little, I would tell my Mom that I wanted a Chinese daughter. Adoption was mentioned to me very early in this time and I fully believe that it was for a reason. I started thinking about adoption.
One night at work- I worked as an R.N. at Homer's only hospital by then. A small hospital staffed by the best nurses and people that I have ever worked with. So, yes, one night at work I cornered our Social Worker and started to ask her about adoption. She gave me some info and I went to work educating myself. I did not like what I learned of domestic adoption. Leslie and I talked and we talked. He was immediately on the bandwagon to adopt. He never hesitated, he has never looked back. It was very clear to us that we would do this, that we would adopt, we just had to figure it out.
How?
Where?
How much?
Girl?
Boy?
Black?
White?
Asian?
When?
I had my work cut out for me.
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