Three years and two miscarriages after we had our daughter, we were at a crossroads.
Do we continue trying to conceive with more invasive procedures or do we pursue adoption?
After a lot of talking and planning, my husband and I both decided it was time for adoption.
Quite frankly, I was reluctant at first. I wasn’t ready. I was still grieving the fact that I couldn’t seem to get pregnant on my own, and the thoughts of how I could love a baby that I didn’t carry just weighed heavily on my heart, but deep down I knew it would be okay. I just didn’t know how.
We had a very brief conversation with an adoption attorney in town the weekend before July 4th in 2018 and were officially added to the waiting list. I had experienced so much hurt and pain with infertility that I have learned to not let my guard down and get my hopes up, but something new is always exciting.
I will never forget how our attorney told us, almost as an aside, that some women don’t make a plan for adoption until they’re in the hospital. “It’s rare,” she said, “but it does happen.” Yeah right, my husband and I said.
Wouldn’t you know that a month later, we got a call. There was a mother at a hospital who had given birth and bravely made the decision that she would be unable to raise 2 babies and give them both the life they deserved. And we were in the running to be chosen.
Here’s the kicker – we hadn’t told a soul other than our very best friends that we were adopting. Most of our family didn’t even know. We hadn’t done a single thing to fundraise. We hadn’t made any kind of announcements or had any baby showers.
Not only that, we hadn’t had a home study, background checks, fingerprints done – nothing.
A couple of days later, we got a devastating blow – she chose another family. We were crushed. The second I heard about him, I felt a strong connection and called him “our boy.” I just knew. But hearing that we weren’t chosen as parents this time was crushing and confusing.
Two days after that phone call, my husband called and told me the other family wasn’t taking the necessary steps to care for the baby, our attorney didn’t think they’d pass their home study, and we were next in line.
I had to be out of town for a previously scheduled engagement and had a good cry fest in my car the entire way. I was screaming out loud and just so hurt and confused as to what was going on.
My cell phone rang, silencing me, and my husband was on the other end of the line.
“We have a son.”
She had chosen us.
The only problem is now I’m an hour away from home, and the only thing that stands in the way of us having a son is me and my vehicle. I jumped back in my car as quickly as I could and sped home.
I was so numb the entire drive. My husband and mother-in-law were at home furiously pulling baby things out of the attic and washing them.
For our daughter, I hand-made all of her bedding and many things in her room, and our poor son didn’t even have a spot set up to sleep.
When I got back home, my husband had the pack and play set up in our room, and we hopped in the car together and went to meet our son.
On the way, we read the background that his first mama gave. She’d named him Kamryn Josiah. We already had another name picked out (Jonah), but we decided that in order to honor her, we would name him Josiah.
We have an open relationship with his maternal grandparents and hope for the same open relationship with his mom if she’s ever ready.
Adoption was always our plan A. It came at a different time than we thought, but it’s here and amazing.
Adoption doesn’t fix infertility. Our son wasn’t given to fix my infertility, and I will never let him bear the weight of that. He’s a gift just like our daughter, and we still hope to have more children one day.
