“You didn’t consider IVF?” That was the reaction I received when I mentioned to a colleague that my son was adopted from Ethiopia. My response? No, I didn’t. I didn’t pursue anything. After experiencing three traumatic miscarriages in succession, I felt I had exhausted all options.
My physician—who I found quite difficult to deal with, but that’s another story—referred me to a Women’s Reproductive Clinic for extensive testing and available treatments. He sat there, hands clasped, shook his head, and quietly remarked, “I believe you will conceive. You may just need some assistance.”
“I believe you will conceive…” At 27, my partner Jake and I had decided we were ready for children. I had approached this same challenging doctor earlier and asked, “What steps should I take to get pregnant?” His reply? “Have a lot of sex.” This advice seemed straightforward. After all, I had witnessed numerous people successfully become parents. How tough could it be? Yet, there I was, grappling with three miscarriages. Months spent anxiously taking tests, visiting labs, enduring two D&C procedures, and shedding countless tears—all culminating in “I believe you will conceive.”
Perhaps I no longer desired to become pregnant.
After reaching out regarding the referral, I received an overwhelming packet filled with medical history forms, testing options, and more. It felt insurmountable. The packet sat untouched on our coffee table for months, adorned with images of joyful mothers cradling their babies. Each glance at it weighed heavily on my heart. Occasionally, I would ask Jake, “Should we complete this?”
“Not now… maybe later.” He would resume reading the Wall Street Journal, barely looking up.
“Okay, I don’t feel like it either,” I would respond.
Then one day, I asked, “Are we ready to move forward with the tests and this process?” This question ignited a conversation long overdue. We both realized we had endured enough. The thought of proceeding further brought us both unease. We understood that moving ahead could lead to a child, but it might also bring significant stress, physical toll on my body, and the possibility that one of us could be the underlying issue. By stepping away, we avoided labeling anyone as the problem and lifted the cloud that loomed over us. I discarded the packet and felt a wave of relief wash over me. Jake seemed rejuvenated.
“So, shall we explore adoption?” I proposed.
“That sounds good.” His few words conveyed an enthusiastic agreement, akin to saying, “Absolutely! I’m excited about this direction!”
And so, we embarked on this journey. Adoption had always been part of our discussions, something we both felt drawn to. I recall being 18 when we first started dating and asking him, “What are your thoughts on adopting? I’d like to adopt.”
“Sounds good,” he replied. I knew even then that I had found the right person to share this dream with.
When the packet from the adoption agency arrived, we promptly filled it out. We registered for an information session, explored different countries, and ordered books. With renewed determination, we were on a mission. Instead of fear and anxiety, we felt excitement and calm. I knew this was our right path.
The waiting period was lengthy, and my impatience grew, but I remained relatively stress-free. When we first saw EJ’s picture, that moment changed everything. All the struggles, the heartaches, and the anxiety faded away. For the first time, I felt grateful for the journey we had taken. Without those experiences, we might not have been staring at the photo of our adorable baby.
It’s quite possible for us to have a biological child. We are both aware of this fact. In fact, my new OBGYN suggested it might not even require IVF. About a year after EJ came home, we began discussing the prospect of having more children. I felt a twinge of guilt for not yearning to have a biological child, while Jake simply stated, “One and done!” This has since become our motto.
I have immense respect for women who navigate fertility treatments; it demands great strength and perseverance. Personally, I know I wouldn’t have been able to endure that journey. It’s essential for people to recognize that the road to motherhood varies for each woman. Our paths may diverge, leading us in different directions—not necessarily better ones, just different. Yet, I am grateful every day that my journey took a turn.
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Summary:
This personal narrative reflects on the journey to motherhood, highlighting the emotional challenges of miscarriages and the eventual decision to adopt. The author emphasizes the importance of recognizing that every woman’s path to motherhood is unique, as well as the relief and joy found in choosing adoption.