Mammograms and tennis shoes

Published / by sandymichelet / 2 Comments on Mammograms and tennis shoes

Sadly, some of the most surprising interactions I have had as a childless woman are in medical facilities who think there are two kinds of women in the world: Those who have given birth and those who will soon. Other than that, the women don’t exist. And it impacts how women take care of themselves. Three personal examples over the last few months:

Mammogram (if you say it like “candy gram” it sounds better)

My doctor’s office is in a hospital that caters to women….I have to trudge through the sea of pink and baby blue crap to go get body parts smushed. I try to rush through the long halls with blinders on, but it is impossible. The walls are decorated with newborns (pictures, not the real thing) and the floors are covered with baby feet stickers. There is only one reason I continue to go there….because I love my doctor.

I’m going to run a marathon

One Saturday morning a few months ago, I decided to become a runner. Thirty minutes later I opened my front door and started to jog before I got to the sidewalk…. Justin Timberlake was in my headphones. Nothing else needed. Except I had the wrong shoes, I didn’t stretch and I possessed absolutely no athletic skill or talent. True story.

  1. A month later I was limping into a doctor’s office and had to complete insurance/new patient paperwork explaining my life story. Are you pregnant? No. Could you possible be pregnant? No. Are you sure? I mean reallllly sure you aren’t? NO!
  2. Waiting room signs: Notify our staff if you believe you are pregnant or could be pregnant. 
  3. Magazines on the tables: Magazines dedicated to parents, babies, blah blah. Interestingly, not a lot of articles on feet.
  4. A nurse came to get me from the waiting room so someone could check out my Fred Flintstone feet. But first, we needed to x-ray. *sigh* Are you pregnant? No. Could you possible be pregnant? No. *sigh*


When I was leaving my most recent appointment, I was gifted with the obligatory plastic bag filled with toothpaste, new toothbrush and dental floss. Check out exhibit A on the left.


Am I uber sensitive to this topic? No doubt. But am I being unrealistic to want to increase an awareness that the childless exist? No. There has to be a better way. What about a route within the hospital that can get me from point A to point B….that minimizes the tour of the gift shop, birthing center, etc. What about an area in a waiting room that doesn’t scream BABY! What about magazines in the waiting rooms with articles other than “binky basics”, “choosing the perfect nursery” and “5 ways to soothe a crying baby”. <== Real articles BTW.

I get it. We exist in the minority. But we still exist. Many childless women I’ve talked with have given up medical care in general. Why?  Maybe because they can’t bear to bare it again, for any reason.  Maybe because listening to pregnant women talk to each other and scratch their full bellies (apparently that is a thing……..pregnant women are always scratching their bellies) is too painful. Maybe because it is a “our bodies have failed us again and again so why should I take care of it” mentality. I don’t know. But an environment dedicated to everything we want but can’t have certainly doesn’t help encourage good healthcare. Why am I focused on medical facilities as opposed to restaurants, malls, etc? Because when we need medical attention we are at our most vulnerable.

We don’t want a monument dedicated to our plight. We don’t expect a special facility that removes all hints of babies and pregnant women. But a few tweaks could create a more welcoming environment.

Adoption is soooooooooo easy

Published / by sandymichelet / 2 Comments on Adoption is soooooooooo easy

Every person or couple struggling to have a baby has heard the same advice. In fact, the advice never ends….and it is usually horrible.

I am not against getting advice. Help me pick out the color of my couch or the flowers for my front yard. I’d love that.

However, I needed a little more space when it came to whether or not adoption was right for us and how to maneuver through the process. We didn’t publically discuss our troubles with fertility until I started this blog a few months ago. Most of our friends and family had no idea of the struggles. We (for whatever reason) kept the fertility problem close to the vest…so when it came to adoption, Craig and I were like a steel vault. We didn’t tell anyone we were considering adoption because it would provide a glimmer of hope….and so far we hadn’t been successful with any other baby-making activity.

I don’t know why….but starting the adoption process and not ending up with a baby seemed like Failure – Level Two.


If anything can guarantee a child it is adoption.  Yep. It’s that simple.

Walk into Target, select the one you want, put it in the shopping cart, on the conveyer belt, load into your car and BAM! You’re a parent.


There are numerous routes on the adoption journey…and many of those end with beautiful, happy families. We know several couples who have adopted and can’t imagine how they could be any happier. We aren’t adoption experts……but this is our experience and 3 options we considered.

Adopt through Catholic Charities

We started here. Just like the maze of infertility…there is a web of processes for adoption…an entire world that no one even knows exists…unless you are one of the *ah hem* lucky ones with fertility issues. One of the women at Catholic Charities realized that we were clueless and walked us through a high level of our options.

Adopt through the foster care system

We had already been warned that the emotion of adoption was going to add a whole new layer to the fertility issues…but were told that adopting through the foster care system would test our patience and strength at every turn.

In the state of Louisiana, you cannot be approved to adopt without also being approved to foster. I think it is called dual certification. I was adamant that I didn’t want to foster…I could not have a child in my home only to have it yanked from me…my emotions were still too raw at this point.

However, to get to the adoption finish line we had to attend classes on “how to adopt/foster”. Our first one was early on a Saturday morning. We were the first to arrive (ok, we were 30 minutes early). We sat with several other people in the room….the woman conducting the class silently walked past the 6 of us and stood at a podium 20 feet away and began a lecture as if we were learning verb conjugation.

I was ready to hear about expanding our family, bringing love to a child who needed, etc. I was on the edge of my seat to hear her first words that would bring us to the finish line….a child. She held up a piece of paper….I leaned forward trying to see if it was a letter from a child, a picture of a happy family, etc. Nope. “To be reimbursed for mileage for your (3 mile drive from my house), fill out this form and send it to blah blah blah.” I could hear Craig exhale next to me because he knew what I was thinking….and terrified of what bit of wisdom/feedback/sarcasm/obvious irritation I would inject into this display.

I sat quietly (no, really!!!) and listened to a few facts. We weren’t allowed to have X number of kids living in the same room, we couldn’t have a child if we didn’t have a fenced in yard, we would be required to allow “inspectors” to come to our home to make sure we weren’t running some type of seedy operation out of our kitchen, etc.

Everyone in the room was interested in foster care…so in order not to slow down the Q&A session, we stayed after class so I could get my 5 typed pages of adoption related questions answered. I wanted someone to listen to me, hear our plight….provide the teeniest glimmer of light after this tunnel of blah. But nope. After years of being poked, prodded, put on medications to make my body do things, put on medications to make my body NOT do things, etc. I was told that I “just had to be patient”.

I am not sure if I blacked out at that point, but I remember climbing back into the car covered in tears and hearing Craig ask me over and over again WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT HER WHEN SHE IS TRYING TO HELP?

Adopt through a private agency.

This was by far the best experience.  I was talking with someone I trusted (I knew her personally). I wish we had started with her….however, we didn’t know what we didn’t know. We didn’t know that every medical test, procedure, etc wouldn’t work. Had we known though, it really wouldn’t have mattered. We initially didn’t have the financial means to even consider a $30,000 adoption fee.

By the time we found this option, we were better off financially (granted, $30,000 was still an enormous amount of money). But….We. Were. Exhausted.  We had spent 15 years researching, trying option after option, etc. I didn’t have any energy left and didn’t have any more tears to cry.

Foot in mouth….the moron’s definition of a family

Published / by sandymichelet / 4 Comments on Foot in mouth….the moron’s definition of a family

In a casual conversation a few days ago, I was talking with someone about careers and laughing about how priorities change. Ten years ago we were climbing the corporate ladder and now we just want to go home and sit in the backyard. How things change! When we were wrapping up he said “I know you’d like to get home to your family….I mean, not your family….but to your husband.” He caught himself when he said family and tried to correct it.

Why would there be a need to correct that!? Uhhhhhh…..I thought that my husband and I were a family. Aren’t we!? I was surprised. Does that mean because we don’t have children together that we aren’t a family? Does that mean every childless couple is just that? A couple?? And they can never be more?

So that got me thinking.


Sandy’s official definition of family:

Group o’ humans joined together through emotional ties; who you can count on at any time, day or night; who care about your existence and will fight to protect you; who know the good and bad about you but still love you; who matter to you; who you want to call when you have a really good day or really bad day.


There are no right or wrong definitions of a family, right? I think we can all agree that blood relatives are not the best indication of family. Maybe on paper, yes. But in reality!? Nope. Some people have blood relatives who aren’t even on their radar. Read the soon-to-be-famous-Sandy’s-official-definition-of-family again. Those who meet that criteria could be extended family, friends, neighbors, co-workers or covered in fur or feathers.

The point is that we shouldn’t define ourselves by what someone else calls us. We make that distinction.

So…do I have a family? Yes. And I am going meet that family at Outback for dinner. Table for two.