Fear, guilt, and other companions

We have truly only just begun our adoption journey, but I am amazed at how much drama there has been so far. Not between my husband and I, or even with adoption agencies or birth parents – just in my head. My imagination is a frickin’ war zone.

My main adversaries’ names (you may recognize them from your own battles) are Fear and Guilt. Their comrades – Worry, Anxiety, and Doubt – have also made many an appearance on the battlefront. Fun for all.

Fear is a tricky bitch. She sneaks up on you, hides right behind our sweet friend Hope, and just when you and Hope are having a wonderful heart to heart about your future…BAM! Fear jumps out screaming like a rabid flesh eating zombie (the fast ones from World War Z) with hairy tarantula legs (gross) and sends poor precious Hope racing for door to find covers to hide under. And then it’s just you and Fear, left alone together, stuck playing that awful “Imagine If” game she always brings over. Why can’t we play Scrabble instead? I really like Scrabble.

Now Mother Guilt is something with which I am extremely familiar. This is a special form of Guilt that plagues any and all mothers – good ones, bad ones, working, stay at home, tall, short, thin, not so thin, introvert, extrovert. It is a universal fact that all mothers feel like crap about something at any given time. Newton’s fourth law I think. Be it nutrition, dental hygiene, TV watching, exercise, reading aloud, screen time or a myriad of other things – every mom is sure she’s doing it wrong/not enough/too much. In fact, I feel guilty right now for working on this blog instead of playing Hermione and the Ponies vs. The Wicked Witch of the West with my daughter. Great!

So it is not as if guilt related to parenting is anything new, but guilt before I even become someone’s parent? Hypothetical situation guilt? That’s down right impressive.

What, you ask, have been these specific confrontations? Here's a few nuggets.

For starters, years ago when first began looking into adoption, my husband asked, “So would we, like, get a newborn baby in the United States?”

Tut tut, so naive.

“No way!” I recoiled. “It costs like $50,000 and a birth mom could come back anytime and take her kid back!”

Fear just high-fived herself.

At this point I had done very little actual adoption research and watched one too many Lifetime movies. So in spite of the fact that a newborn baby was exactly what my heart desired, Fear had me convinced it would never work out – too expensive and too likely to end in heartbreak.

So, I completely bypassed researching domestic adoption and pointed myself to international instead, where Guilt was waiting to make her debut.

There is no such thing as a mass international adoption application; each country has its own unique adoption program, and you have to decide on one in order to get started. For some this process comes easy. They have a pull to adopt from a specific country; possibly a family tie, maybe they’ve visited there before or always wanted to, but whatever it is something specifically draws them to it. I didn’t have any of that. I didn’t feel called to a specific country. I was open to any, to all of them. I wanted to love a child. But you have to pick one. But I couldn’t pick. To choose one felt like I was rejecting all the others, and therefore all the other children. How do you choose one child over another?

I found myself trying to manufacture connections/feelings….I think East Indian people are particularly beautiful, so I’ll adopt from India. Yeah, a beautiful Indian baby….Or wait, I love the Spanish language, so we should adopt from a South American country. Then our entire family can learn Spanish and we can travel there and keep our baby’s cultural heritage alive. Yeah, that’s perfect….But I do love Chinese food, so China is always an option….But maybe the babies in Africa need me more, so that would be best….

I was beginning to feel like a serious head-case. Guilt and all its friends were reigning victorious and I was paralyzed, somehow feeling like my heart for adoption really just a way to abandon all the other children. Wow, Kim, really? Obviously this way of thinking was not at all based in reality, but Guilt doesn’t really care. She’ll manipulate you any way she can to get you off track.

Only recently have we returned our sights to domestic adoption. And this time we’ve enlisted a new friend, Knowledge. And she says:

·    Yes, adoption can be expensive, but usually not $50,000 expensive. On average it's more like half that. International is typically the most expensive, followed by domestic newborn. And domestic foster-to-adopt has little to no cost at all.

·    And yes, in domestic newborn adoption birth mothers do have the ability to change their mind and parent their child, but the time frame they have to decide varies by state. It ranges from 24 hours to 6 months after birth, but the average is three days. Once that time frame passes and an adoption is finalized, it is just that. Final. The sensational stories that make it into the news are not the norm.

Booya! Take that Fear. My girl Knowledge just trumped your nasty ass!

But that victory was short-lived because Guilt came back. How selfish are you? You already have babies, you know, from pregnancy? Save the newborns for people with infertility problems. You know, people who deserve to have them. You think you should just get whatever you want?

Defeat.

But something doesn’t sit right. My friends – Truth and Love – nudge me to step forward and say something. Well, Guilt, I stammer. The birth parents are the ones that decide who gets to raise their baby. They have to pick us. And if they pick us, it’s because they see something in us, something they desire for their most precious child. And, WHEN they pick us, they will obviously think it’s okay we have biological children! So…so there!

Cheers from the crowd!

These are certainly not the only things Fear and Guilt have tripped me up over and I’m sure they won’t be the last. But I refuse to feel guilty for what my heart desires. In fact, other adoptive moms have told me specifically not to. It’s certainly easy to feel guilty when it comes to filling out the form for what child you would accept. The list is a gauntlet of things out of a medical text book. Would you accept a blind child? Would you accept a child exposed to drugs? Would you accept a child with a family history of mental illness. Cerebral Palsy. Down Syndrome. And on and on. I don’t know yet how I will answer all of these questions. I will research things first so I’m sure I truly understand what they mean; I will definitely pray about it all. But then whatever decision I make I will make in faith and without guilt. It does no one any good if you take on something you are not prepared for simply because you feel guilty about it. No one at all.

And I will not fear heartache. Anything worth doing comes with the risk of heartache. When you pursue something that truly matters to you (pregnancy, adoption, relationships, marriage, chasing your dreams), you'll know it's worth doing because you have to put your heart on the line – serve it up on a platter, come what may.

We don’t dismiss the need for wisdom. No not at all. My friends Knowledge and Truth will always be by my side in this venture. But the requirement of vulnerability is the litmus test of value. And I can't think of much that is more valuable than a child.

Where we are right now

Right now we have two daughters, both biological: Anabelle (3 1/2 years old) and Rosemary (3 months old).

After having Anabelle, we went back and forth on what we wanted to do next, adopt or try to conceive again. We knew we would eventually do both, but what should we do first??? I was approaching 30 years old and, even though my own rock star mother had a child at 43, the risks for complication do go up with age.

So in May 2012, we opted to focus on pregnancy. My doctor had told me that getting pregnant often resets the hormonal imbalances that may have led to my original infertility so I may not need medication anymore. Yay! Let the baby making commence!

Six months later, November 2012, we still weren't pregnant, but we weren't discouraged either. I had only just started to have a regular measurable ovulation cycle (after a few years with an IUD it can take few months to regulate). Adoption still in our hearts, that month we attended our first adoption conference, Heart for the Fatherless. It was an absolutely amazing experience. We gained so much helpful information and it was really great to spend the day amongst people of the adoption community. It reaffirmed that this is a real thing that real people do, not just celebrities. You don't have to be rich (cue that one Prince song), or even infertile (not a Prince song), you just have to want to be a loving parent to a child.

You'd have to ask him for sure, but to me, this was the day things really clicked for my husband. He had always been on board with the idea of adoption, even before we had Anabelle, but I always wondered if he was just going along with it because he loved me. I'll never forget after the conference when he looked at me and said, "We're doing this. Why wouldn't we do this? Of course we're doing this!" He asked if I thought we should switch gears and pursue adoption instead. I had to smile. This is exactly how I had felt before getting pregnant with Anabelle. I was so glad he understood that feeling of just being so excited about it you don't want to wait. But we both agreed that our day would come and to stay our current course. Lucky we did, because two days later we found out we were pregnant! And on July 1st, 2013, we welcomed our second daughter, Rosemary Elena, into our family.

So right now, I am on maternity leave (the most glorious thing ever). I have about a month before I return to work (not the most glorious thing, probably the least glorious). Rosemary is such a sweet happy baby and Anabelle loves being a big sister. It has been so great to spend this time at home with both of them.

We knew we didn't want to wait long after Rosemary was born to begin the adoption process. I emailed a few agencies while I was still pregnant to ask how old our newborn should be before we began the process -- both responses said they preferred families take at least six months to settle in and bond with their new child as it's the best thing for everyone.

So right now we are having a bit of a wait. I am in full-fledged research mode, trying to learn as much about the adoption process and raising a child of adoption as I possibly can. Two of my favorite websites are Creating a Family and Adoptive Families.

We still have a lot of decisions to make....What kind of adoption do we want to pursue? Domestic? International? If domestic, do we go private infant or foster-to-adopt? If international, which country?! Each option has favorable and unfavorable aspects, so it all comes down to what matters most to you and what your vision is for your family.

Then we'll need to select an agency/attorney that services our area and does that kind of adoption, which to me is even more difficult. How do you know who to trust? I have been using some of my Vendor Due Diligence skills I picked up at work (thank you compliance culture!) to try to narrow down our options. More on all this to come.

So right now we are just enjoying Baby Rose, watching her grow and savoring this special all too short time when your kids are babies. And we are dreaming, of the future and the special child we are being prepared for, who, like our current kiddos, we are honored and privileged to parent.

That's where we are right now!

So I'm starting a blog...

I wonder how many other people start off their first post like this. A little nervous, not entirely sure what to do, not sure if I have anything of consequence to say or add to the conversation. A million thoughts telling me why not to: No one's going to read this. Well except maybe my husband because I'll stand over his shoulder and make him...What the heck do I know about blogging? Or adoption? Or anything!?...I am void of all thought and creativity!

But in spite of all that, something else tells me to shut up and just start writing already. Because even if only my husband reads it, there is something about telling your story that is therapeutic and, heck, if it encourages one person, even if it's just me, or my husband, I'll count it a success!

So here's the story, so far...

About five years ago I got a fever. You know the one. Baby fever. Maybe you've heard of it or experienced it yourself. Well, mine was, like most, intense and all consuming. An every-waking-moment longing. But my body super sucked at the time and decided it wasn't into the whole conception mumbo jumbo and opted out of ovulating all together. So the doctor prescribed some medicine - glucophage/metformin - to help get things going. It was supposed to help my body regulate and make me like every other girl with a monthly cycle. Then we could give it the good ol' try on our own. But the problem was two fold: (1) I SUCK at taking pills. And you have to take these every day. You'd think my intense fever for child would have overridden my lame inability to establish a routine, for heaven's sake. But alas, no. And (2) you have to take the pills EVERY DAY! It was like a constant reminder of "I'm not pregnant," "My body is broken," "I'm not pregnant." So whenever I did consistently remember to take the pill I was pelted with discouragement, and then would stop/avoid taking them. Good plan, Kim. Can you say self-fulfilling prophecy? I can!

So Glucophage is like baby step 1, no make that baby step 0.5 on the infertility treatment journey and I already couldn't handle it. So needless to say, I gave up. I tried to restart it several times and at one point was even able to up the dose, but that wrecked my guts pretty bad so I quit again.
I was too afraid to even try. Too afraid to pursue even the simplest treatment. Because all I could envision was a future where treatment failed and we had to move up to the next option, and that one failed and before I would know it, we'd be seven years down the road and still no baby. And I didn't want to go through that. Like my reproductive system, I wanted to opt-out. Before even really stepping onto the infertility treatment path, I wanted to go another route.

So, I began researching adoption. And became ignited. Adoption would be my solution, my savior, my guarantee to be a mommy. Sure maybe it'll take a while, maybe it'll be expensive, but, unlike fertility treatments, at least I would know that I would end up with a baby. Mama loves a sure thing!

And the faces! All the cute little baby faces! Chubby, smiling. Black babies, white babies, Chinese babies, Indian babies. Babies!!! I knew I could love any child. I wanted to love them. They needed a mommy and I desperately wanted to be that for any one of them.

So I gathered my intel, formulated a plan and prepared to make the big pitch to my husband. He knew I had been researching adoption obviously, but this was the big moment when he would sign off on my perfect plan and we'd really begin. Except that he didn't.

He listened, he asked questions, but when all was said and done he looked at me and said, "But we haven't really tried to get pregnant."

(So what?! This was better than pregnancy, this was beautiful and divine! And this is way less scary for me!)

"This isn't just about you. It's about our whole family. And we owe it ourselves to try, really try, and not just give up because we're scared. You can't make a choice like this just because you're afraid of trying."

(Uggghhhh. He was right. Fear was my first motivating factor. But there really was love too. I really could feel this pull to adoption. There was a passion, a fire in my heart that had never been there before. I couldn't just give that up.)

"I'm not saying we can't adopt. I'm just saying that you have to try first. Like actually try. I don't care what you do, but do something. Decide what how far you're willing to go medically, how long you're willing to try. And do that."

(Sigh...I begrudgingly concur.)

So we made an agreement. I would go back the doctor and we would try to get pregnant for six months. If I wasn't pregnant by then, he fully endorsed us pursuing adoption. But I had one condition: even if we did get pregnant and had a biological child, that we would still revisit adoption in the future, because it's amazing and infertility isn't the only reason for doing it. Agreed.

So in January 2009, I went to the doctor and got a prescription for Clomid (the real baby step 1 in infertility treatment). I had to take 10 days of progesterone first to get things going and then it would be an easy one-pill-a-day-for-five-days and that's it. Yes! I can do this! And the most amazing part is it actually worked. Our first round in. Amazing.

And on 12/10/2009 we welcomed our sweet baby girl, Anabelle Amellia, into the world and into our family. I don't think I've ever felt more contented than when I was sitting in my hospital bed, still numb from my Cesarean, getting to hold my daughter for the first time.  Heart fulfilled. Fever abated.

I am so thankful I had "trouble" getting pregnant. Because my heart was transformed. A new longing was created, for another child that I don't yet know, that is not yet born, that, even though I won't carry them within my womb, I already love and carry in my heart. And I can't wait to hold you someday!

So, I'm starting a blog to tell our family's story and our journey of adoption. The journey continues...