Infertility. I know
it’s common. I know thousands and
thousands of women (and even men for that matter) deal with it every day. But even so, it’s interesting how few
conversations I’ve had about it over the years.
Maybe it’s because it’s a painful topic, or maybe because someone is
always giving you advice as to what to try next or trying to figure out what
you’re doing wrong, and even though you know it’s helpful, it is hard to have
those discussions. For me, the
difficulty came because I seemed to be the only one who didn’t eventually get
pregnant. Even most of my friends who
adopted had at least one biological child, and so even though we’d been through
a lot of similar experiences, it just never seemed like anyone had as much or
as long as a battle as I did. I’ve been
trying to get pregnant since I was twenty-one and we got D when I was
thirty-eight, so that gives you a small idea of what we have been through. When we headed into adoption, it was after a
year-long experience with our last option--two rounds of invitro fertilization,
during which my body reacted horribly and I became extremely sick. When the second round failed, we were done,
and with feelings still raw and tears still fairly fresh, we went to our first
adoption seminar to look at our options.
I suppose we are the classic example of why the county makes
people go through this checklist and take their “Adoption After Infertility”
class. One of the hardest things about
the whole process is how personally invasive it is. As couples, we have so many personal and
intimate conversations about everything from children to our hopes and dreams
to marital conflicts we need to resolve, and most of those are kept
private. With adoption, nothing is
private. I have a love-hate relationship
with the whole thing, because I know that they are just protecting the children
from going from the frying pan into the fire.
And yet, sometimes you feel like it’s just none of their business. But, I guess it is if they want to, with a
clear conscience, place these children in a homes that will be good for them.
I have included both pages of a checklist we were both required to fill
out (click on them to see them larger). During the class we were required
to attend, most, if not all of these issues were discussed, and you are
supposed to openly and honestly share where you are in coming to terms with
each of these “tasks”. Of course I green
lighted everything, and honestly, I do think I was telling the truth. But a few of them still made me a little sick
to my stomach to think about. As much as
I think we were ready to move forward with adoption, I don’t know that grief
ever has an end, as implied in #1. In
regards to #4, I wondered if that meant 51/49 was okay, or was it supposed to
be 80/20? Numbers 6-8….hmmm…sketchy, but
I’m sure I dabbled here in there. Number
9-10? Well, I think it’s hard to answer
a question like that when you aren’t in that situation yet. We all like to think we would be so
intelligent in our dialogue, but even with extensive education, it’s hard to
know how to handle certain things when it involves your child whom you love
dearly. And #11-#12….am I the only one
that sees these as contradictory? Having
had a child placed for us for adoption and losing him back to his birth-father
makes me think #11 may need to be reworded.
I do think this checklist is a good starting point for some
open and honest discussion with your social worker, your spouse, and most
importantly yourself. You do need to be
sure you are ready, although give yourself a little slack and don’t require
such a complete, rigid standard. You might
not be 100% on everything, and that’s okay.
I’m still not, and I’m loving our little adopted boy and we’re on the
list to do it again!
***Also, if you have experienced infertility, whether you adopted as a result or not, you might enjoy my post Plan B: It's a Good Thing
***Also, if you have experienced infertility, whether you adopted as a result or not, you might enjoy my post Plan B: It's a Good Thing
