Over the last few weeks, we have been coming to terms with our infertility journey. IVF doesn’t work for us, so we need to find other options. There is embryo donation, egg donors, or adoption. The one that speaks the loudest to us today is adoption.
I am at peace with this choice, mainly due to the fact that I was raised in an adoptive family. My brother is my brother, but we hold no genetic link. We share parents and memories and get along most days, but he also knows how to push my buttons and I know how to push his. What can I say, he is my brother.
Now one big realization I have had the time to reflect on during our infertility journey is that one of the best days of my life, was the day my brother joined our family. I was seven and a half, I had gone to Brownies one random Tuesday night in February 1980-something. When I came home, instead of being rushed off to bed like usual, my parents sat me down on the couch. They poured me a small glass of Coke and told me that the next day we were going to a small town an hour or two from our home to adopt a baby boy. There are few true surprises in life, but this was one of those moments that is tattooed in my memory. They proceeded to show me that while I was at Brownies, the bedroom beside mine had been transformed from a spare room to a baby’s room. I had always wanted a sibling, but I didn’t have one and then…POOF!…overnight I became a sister.
The trip to the social worker’s office is a blur, but I remember the drive to the town and us as a family trying to pick a name. He was six weeks old and I sort of remember the meeting in the office, the car trip home and bits and pieces of that day, but hey my memory gets a little hazy after 30 years. The icing on the cake was the next day when, I marched into school and stood at the front of the class for ‘Show & Tell’ and said, “Guess what, I wasn’t sick yesterday…I was out getting a brother.” My mom then proceeded to show him off. Needless to say, what a glorious couple of days. I know I was told there was a period of time where his birth mother could ask for him back but I refused to acknowledge that could happen. I had faith that this little baby boy was going to be my brother and he is.
Why do I recount this story, it’s because 1) it is my all-time favorite childhood memory and 2) this unique life-long experience gives me so much comfort. I have always felt so lucky to have had this experience in my life and now it is beyond comforting for me to easily accept the idea of bringing a child through adoption into our lives. In some ways, it’s like I was raised to be an adoptive parent. What better experience or prep course for this experience than almost your whole life!
So, here we are. At the beginning of heading in this new direction…it’s going to be a long road…but I am no stranger to long roads. I am excited that the adoption seminar is coming up in a few weeks and the paperwork is started. Most importantly, I finally feel like we are moving forward.