“You didn’t consider IVF?” That was the response I received from an acquaintance when I shared that my son was adopted from Ethiopia. My response? No, I didn’t. I didn’t try anything. After three emotionally taxing miscarriages in a row, what else was left to attempt?
My doctor, who I won’t name out of courtesy, suggested I visit a Women’s Reproductive Clinic for extensive testing and possible options. Sitting there with his hands neatly folded, he shook his head and said, “I believe you will get pregnant. You just might need some assistance.”
“I believe you will get pregnant…” Mike and I had decided at the age of 27 that we were ready to start a family. I had walked into that same doctor’s office and said, “I want to get pregnant. What should I do?” His advice was simple: “Have a lot of sex.” It sounded straightforward enough. After all, I had seen numerous people become parents. How difficult could it be? Yet, here I was, grappling with grief after three miscarriages. After countless hours spent peeing on pregnancy tests, undergoing two D&Cs, and shedding many tears, I was left with the same phrase: “I believe you will get pregnant.”
Maybe I didn’t want to get pregnant anymore.
After I called about the referral, a few days later, an overwhelming packet arrived—filled with medical history forms, test options, and more. It sat on our coffee table for months, adorned with images of smiling mothers cradling babies, which only added to my distress. Periodically, I would nudge Mike, “Should we finish filling this out?”
“Not now…maybe later,” he would reply, engrossed in the Wall Street Journal.
“Alright, I don’t feel like it either.”
Then one day, I finally asked, “Are we going to pursue this? Should we start the testing?” This initiated a crucial discussion that had been long overdue. We both felt we had endured enough. Neither of us wanted to take that route. We acknowledged that moving forward could lead to a baby—but it could also bring stress, physical tolls, and the uncomfortable possibility that one of us might be the “problem.” Choosing to walk away took the pressure off and lifted the dark cloud hanging over us. I tossed the packet in the trash and slept better than I had in months. Mike seemed rejuvenated.
“So, we’ll just look into adoption then?” I proposed.
“Sounds good.” His few words felt like a resounding affirmation.
Adoption had always been part of our discussions, and we both felt a calling toward it. I recalled asking him, when we were just 18 and freshly dating, “What do you think about adopting? I’d like to adopt.”
“Sounds good,” he responded then too. Little did I know, even back then, I had found the right person to share my life with.
When the packet from the adoption agency arrived, we filled it out immediately. We signed up for the information session, explored different countries, and ordered books. I was on a mission, fueled by excitement and relief instead of anxiety. This felt right; it always had.
The waiting period was excruciatingly long! I was restless and impatient but never truly stressed. When we finally saw EJ’s picture, everything changed. All the trials, heartaches, and uncertainties melted away. For the first time, I felt gratitude for my journey. Without those experiences, we wouldn’t have been looking at the photo of the most adorable baby—our baby.
We both recognize that conceiving a biological child is a possibility. It might not even require IVF, as my new OBGYN suggested. About a year after EJ came home, we began discussing plans for more children. I felt a sense of guilt for only wanting one child and not pursuing biological options. But Mike reassured me with a simple, “One and done!” This has become our mantra.
I hold deep admiration for women who navigate fertility treatments. Their strength and determination are commendable. Personally, I wouldn’t have been able to endure that path. It’s crucial to acknowledge that every woman’s journey to motherhood is unique. We don’t all follow the same steps; some of us carve different routes. Not necessarily better, just different. I am thankful every day that my path took a turn.
If you’re interested in exploring more about family journeys, check out this insightful post on Modern Family Blog. For those looking to enhance their fertility, consider visiting Make a Mom for reputable at-home insemination kits. Additionally, for more information about IVF and fertility preservation, Cleveland Clinic’s podcast is an excellent resource.
In summary, the road to motherhood can take many forms, and each journey is valid. While some may choose traditional routes, others may find fulfillment in adoption, just as we did. Embrace your unique path, and remember that love and family can come in many shapes and sizes.
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