As I sit down each week to write a new post to my blog, I always try to stay clear about my intention. My overall goal as a blogger is to connect and to hopefully inspire and also to maybe reach someone out there who will read about an experience I’ve had and somehow relate. I hope to be able to make that person feel comforted that they are not alone in that experience. So it is with those same intentions that I write this post.
That being said, I have to admit that I also have purely selfish reasons for writing this particular one. I’m writing it for my children. And my husband. And myself. And posterity.
I want to tell the story of us.
My husband Greg and I have two amazing, intuitive, curious, loving and funny children. Our son is 7 years old and our daughter is 4 years old. And both of them were adopted.
If I tried to get into every detail about the adoption process itself it would take me months to write so I am not going to do that. I’m just going to tell you the story about how we decided that adoption was the right choice for us.
Greg and I got married when we were 26 and 24 respectively. We were pretty young and were in no rush to start a family. We moved a lot and then we moved out of the country for 3 years so during that whole time, we knew we weren’t ready to have children. It wasn’t until we finally moved to San Diego in 1999 that we felt that the time might be right.
So we began the process of trying to get pregnant. After a few months of nothing happening, we kept telling ourselves that there was no rush. These things take time. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen. Those were all true statements but it was becoming difficult to ignore the feeling of disappointment each month.
Suddenly it seemed like everyone around us was getting pregnant. It was as though everyone was going on a wonderful journey that we desperately wanted to be on but we somehow couldn’t get a ticket. We were stuck on the pregnancy tarmac waving goodbye to everyone else, stiff smiles on our faces, wondering why we couldn’t get off the ground. It was heartbreaking.
After many medical tests, it was finally determined that we were probably not going to be able to get pregnant naturally. My first inclination was to want to adopt a child. I have 3 grown nieces who were adopted so I had seen adoption from the inside and I knew it was a wonderful option. But my husband had never been that close to adoption and wasn’t sure he was ready to make that step. He wanted to try fertility treatments first and see where that took us. We agreed to go that route.
We started with the least invasive treatments and had no success. This process is a funny one because you draw a line in the sand thinking you will never cross it. Then you get to that line and decide to draw another line and try the next thing that you thought you would never try. Ultimately, we took the fertility treatments all the way to the big one: in vitro fertilization. Let’s just say when we got the call that we were not pregnant again after all the shots and medications and blood tests and calendars and procedures, I was beside myself with grief. I was done. No more. The tears would not stop falling.
At that point, it had been 5 years of trying to have a baby. It was exhausting and the disappointments were piling up like a giant mountain of sadness in the middle of our marriage. We decided to take a weekend away and splurge on a fancy hotel to soothe ourselves. Maybe grieving would be easier by a luxurious swimming pool.
That weekend we had a wonderfully long talk about how much we loved each other and how our lives would be okay even if we never became parents. Maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for us. We were blessed in so many other ways and we decided to just focus on that. We came home refreshed, with new resolve and were ready to face life as a happily married couple who happens to have no children. We were done. It felt like a weight had been lifted.
And then a few months later, Greg’s brother and his wife and their 3 kids came for a visit from Louisiana. They stayed with us in our house and we took them to all the fun California tourist spots. We had such a great time. And it was during that visit, while we were sitting on a bench at Disneyland, right outside of Toon Town… that it happened.
“Let’s adopt a baby.” Greg said. And we knew that it was the right choice.
And now, 8 years and two kids later, I can say with the fiercest of certainty that this is the family that was meant for us. It was the path we were meant to be on. I can’t imagine that I could love any two little golden souls any more than I love these two. They are our children. They are my whole heart and we were all written in the stars together.
We tell them all about their adoption and we tell them about the beautiful warm hearts of their birth mothers who were strong enough to make this choice. We tell them how God chose us for each other and knew that we were their parents. We tell them about the moment when we first saw their shiny little faces and fell deeply, deeply in love. We tell them about how they didn’t grow in my belly but they grew in our hearts.
They are the most loved children and are so special in a million different ways. We may have been stuck on the pregnancy tarmac waving goodbye to everyone but we finally decided to take a different road on our journey. It wasn’t the easiest road but the challenge of it has made it all the more special. There is more than one way to make a family and ours was meant to be this way. As the saying goes “All you need is love” and nothing could be more true of the way our family came together. Love is all we will ever need.