The Joy of Adoption: A Personal Story

When we married, my husband and I knew we were meant to be parents. At the time we had no idea that the journey to that end would be so much more than we imagined. We moved along through those first few years of marriage enjoying our life together and looking forward to the day when the guest room would be transformed with pretty pink princesses or little blue bunny rabbits.

I still had not begun to worry when after three years it was still just the two of us. After all, not every woman is as fertile as our own Hoosier farmland but surely it would happen when the time was right. On a routine annual visit, my gynecologist began asking me questions about our desire to start a family. Yes, we most certainly wanted children and, no, we were not waiting for any reason, had not been using any form of birth control. Let's start looking into this, he said, just to help move things along. Sure, I was game for that.

So began a series of tests, fertility specialists, needles, drugs, roller coaster emotions, and other unpleasantries I wish to forget. The story of our fertility treatment is another all its own and by the time we were looking at invitro fertilization, we decided we had had enough. I just wanted to be a mom. Tom just wanted to be a dad. It shouldn't be this hard. We started doing some research on adoption and decided that it was the route we needed to take.

Boy, oh boy. We had no idea how much we didn't know. After a period of almost two years and more than our share of missteps (fodder for yet another story on another day!), we finally met with adoption attorneys, Steve and Joel Kirsh of Indianapolis. They gave us wonderful advice in the midst of a particularly heart wrenching baby fiasco. After that initial meeting we took a break for a few months. We couldn't take any more. I began to think that motherhood was not the plan God had for me. But it was a plan I could not accept. I knew in my heart that could not be the answer. We took a Christmas trip to Las Vegas, came home re-focused and began to work with the Kirshes on finding our baby. Somehow, I knew things would change, and soon. We finished our paperwork with our new attorneys by the end of January and set about our daily lives with renewed energy and optimism.

On a Thursday near the end of February, Steve Kirsh called me. Another couple had backed out of a birthmother match near the end of the pregnancy. There was a medical issue with the birthmother and the baby would be delivered by a planned c-section in four weeks. He wanted us to do our research over the weekend and decide if we would like the match. He would call me back on Monday to get the go ahead to show our profile to the birthmother. As it turned out, the "issue" was so minor I could not believe another couple, obviously going through the same emotional craziness as we were, would bail at this point in the process. I knew this was it. I could feel it. God would not drop this situation in our lap after all we had endured if this baby was not His gift for us.

Now a stay at home mom, I am a high school counselor by profession and February, as any of my colleagues will tell you, is crazy busy with scheduling. I was so swamped with juniors trying to get their senior schedule just right, that Monday went by in what seemed like five minutes. I got to the end of the day and realized, no call from Steve. I was a little peeved but made a note on my calendar to call him first thing the next day to let him know we were very interested in the baby he had told us about.

If it were not for the snow that day, I would not have been home at 7:30 the next morning to get the call from Steve. Hmmm, I thought, a lawyer in the office, personally making calls at this hour? Did we make a decision over the weekend?, he asked. I had barely rolled the affirmative answer off my tongue when he said, "Good. Your daughter was born last night!" This was the reason he did not call the day before, our daughter's birthday. He had rushed a copy of our profile to the birthmother as she prepared for her sooner than expected delivery. Note, as I write this, tears of joy are streaming down my face, just as they did at that moment. When I tell the story to my now almost 6 year old daughter, she calls them "happy tears" and shares them with me.

My husband and I are blessed with two beautiful children, both through the miracle of adoption. My son's story is no less emotional than my daughter's. Watching his birth, cutting the cord and being the first person to hold him outside of the womb had ME balling like the baby as he stared at me quiet, contemplating this brighter, noisier world. Not a day goes by that I do not think about his birthmother and how admirably strong she was that day. I continue to write to her, sharing milestones and pictures of our now three year old little boy.

Our journey into parenthood was not what Tom and I anticipated when we said our I Do's more than thirteen years ago and the adventure continues. When we look at our beautiful children, it's everything we wanted and more.