captainclover: My story, one day late! ;-) (m) (long, of course!)I'm always late for everything, so why should my story be any different?! ;-) I'm going to *try* to make this brief, as I know many people here already know my story and maybe aren't reading this cause they don't need to hear it again! LOL! But for those of you who haven't heard it (like marisa who said she hadn't....) My DH and I were married in 1989. I was 25, he was 26. Don't do the math -- I'm still 29!! LOL! We talked about wanting children on our first date! I remember sitting in his studio apartment and how I thought I might marry him even though it was our first date. We had so much in common, same outlook on life, wanting kids, same values, etc., and a great sense of humor!! :-) We lived together just 2 months or so after we started dating, moved out to Washington, D.C. for jobs there and spent a great five years living there and in Alexandria, Va. We weren't in a big rush to have kids since we felt we got married pretty young, but we ALWAYS talked about having kids. We moved back to the Chicago area to be closer to our families AND because we thought it would be better FOR OUR FUTURE KIDS (which we thought we'd have easily -- LOL!) to be near family, grandparents, etc. Moved back and started trying to have kids right away. No luck. Kept trying on our own for a long time -- every month -- read up on it, researched fertility, etc. I was never a big fan of going to the gyno so I put that off, thinking that, for some people, it just "took a little longer" to get pregnant. I estimate we started trying officially when I was 29. After a few years of this, we were getting pretty worried and I did (finally) go to the gynechologist. He couldn't find anything wrong in the tests he ran. I was ovulating normally, hormone levels were fine, etc. DH had a sperm analysis and his doc. (senile guy) initially misread the sperm analysis and told DH he had almost NO SPERM! We were pretty depressed. But then DH went to a urologist who said, "Why are you here? You have tons of sperm. Your doctor just didn't see these extra three 000's in your sperm number that were on the next line." It was insane! We laugh about it now but at the time we were stunned! I had a laporoscopy in Oct. 1998, which is when I popped laporoscopy into a Web search and found inciid! I had mild endo which the doctor said he lasered off. He didn't think it could be enough to interfere w/fertility. Told me I'd be especially fertile in the months after the lap, so we tried again like crazy for a few months. Still nothing. Went to the RE who started me on clomid. Took that for 3 months. Nothing. Went to the higher dose of clomid. Wigged out -- they don't call them "clomid rages" for nothing. I was a mess! Even cried at work!!!! Stayed on clomid for three more months. Big waste of time. Did injectables for a few months -- hyperstimmed one cycle -- still no pg. Begged RE to do IVF. By this point I was 35. IVF #1 resulted in a chemical pregnancy. It was the only time I know of that I've been pregnant. I lost that pregnancy in the bathroom during a work assignment. Depressing doesn't even begin to cover it. Did IVF #2, which seemed like a great cycle -- tons of follies, etc. -- transferred 3 perfect blasts. Even did genetic/chromosomal testing to make sure embryos we put in were okay -- they were. No pregnancy. In between IVF #2 and #3 we went to our first adoption (Resolve) seminar. I remember feeling two things: Like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders -- a feeling of light at the end of the tunnel that we finally would get to be parents -- AND grief, that we might not ever have biological children. It was such a powerful mix of emotions when we walked out of that meeting -- I'll never forget it. I just sat and wept in the car afterwards before DH could even start the car. And yet I was also happy to think that someday, I would get to be a mom, no matter what. Before IVF #3 we did immune testing and treatment (LIT) at Dr. Beer's office in North Chicago. Big expense. We were lucky, though, because we did have insurance coverage for our IVFs, so we didn't mind so much paying for the immune stuff ourselves, even though, we kept thinking about paying for adoption, etc., and how would we ever be able to afford it? Beer's associate Dr. K., found that I didn't have any major immune problems, but prescribed LIT anyway, which we did. IVF #3 resulted in only one embie for us to transfer. That cycle resulted in no pg. We found an adoption agency relatively quickly. We naively thought that, after all of our bad luck, that adoption would be "easy" in comparison. Not so. It was a major roller coaster, with even more dramatic emotional scars. We began advertising for adoption and after only 6 weeks got a call from a prospective birthmom. We were thrilled! She was young, only 17, and the birthfather, her h.s. boyfriend, was only 17, too. They had thought about keeping the baby, but then realized they wanted the baby to have a better life and be raised by a loving couple with the means to provide for the child, etc. They had plans for college, etc. We met them several times. On the first meeting, the birthmom and I both cried when she came out with a handknit baby blanket for the baby and a bunch of clothes they had been saving for her (they knew it was a girl) and presented them to me. We were so overwhelmed. Our dreams had finally come true! Her due date was coming up quickly. In the meantime, she invited us to go to doctor's appt.s with her. We heard the heartbeat, held the birthmoms hand during her appt.'s, talked to her about her future. We gave her a ton a books on choosing a college, applying for financial aid, etc. We became very close to the birthfather's parents (who were closer to our age and wonderful wonderful people). She was living with his family during her pg.v One morning very early we got a call that she had gone into labor. She wanted me in the delivery room with her so we rushed to the hospital, so excited. I'll never forget the song playing on the radio was Dido's song that went "Thank you for giving me the best day of my life." DH and I looked at each other and said how appropriate the song was and how happy we were. We got there and were there for the baby's birth. It was so wonderful. She was a beautiful beautiful little girl with a full head of dark hair and pretty blue eyes. We named her Isabelle Celia. Isabelle because it was our favorite name for a girl and Celia for my dad's mother, who had died when he was only 17. I knew that would mean a lot to my dad, who I am very close to. We got to watch Isabelle having her first bath by the nurses. They were very kind to us and considerate about us being the adoptive couple. But it was also very hard, because the birthparents wanted to hold the baby a lot, too, and we just had to sit in the background and wait for their cues to be able to hold her, etc. The birthmom was also generous to us, inviting us into her room whenever we wanted. We brought her roses and a big basket of bath gel and toiletries. I couldn't believe how wonderful she and the birthfather were to give us the opportunity (finally!) to be parents. On the day we brought Isabelle home, the birthmom was very sad, understandly so, but she was also stoic. We were SO happy bringing her home. My mom surprised us by leaving a big sign on our front porch welcoming her home and baloons and a bag full of little girl outfits. It was so sweet. DH videotaped me walking into the house with Isabelle, and our dog sniffing her, etc. The next few days we were overjoyed and everything seemed to be going well with the birthparents, too. But on the third day we had her home with us (the day the birthmom was supposed to sign the legal papers) we got a call from our agency that she had changed her mind and wanted Isabelle back. It was the worst day of my life -- I'm hoping it's the worst day my husband and I ever have because I could never take anything that hard again, I don't think. I can't even describe what it was like having to say goodbye to her. It was just horrible. Writing this down and thinking about it has my crying again just remembering. The social worker from our agency came to pick her up. She asked us to write down her sleeping-feeding routine for the birthmom, so I did. I just wanted her to have a good life and it was so hard knowing we were giving her back to two kids so young, who had planned a different future for themselves that included college, who had told us many times they weren't ready to be parents. The birthmom also had come from a very dysfunctional family, so that was weighing heavily on my mind since she had decided to return home to her family to raise the baby. Watching that little baby be walked out of our house by the social worker was so heartbreaking. DH and I just stood there holding each other crying. It felt like time stopped. The next few weeks passed in a blur. Our families were always there for us, which helped a lot. But there were weeks that we barely ate. My legs always felt like rubber, like they were about to give out under me. We were both so depressed. We went to a counselor and she helped a lot, but it was still so hard. I had taken a maternity leave from work and I decided to continue on a leave over the summer to try to grieve and move on before attempting to work again. We made a memory box of all of our photos of Isabelle and our videotape of her. For a long time I looked at all the things in it -- her hospital bracelet, etc. -- but then I finally was able to put it away (recently). I will never ever forget her though. After that, we knew we still wanted to adopt, but we thought we'd be "smarter" the next time. We had a series of really upsetting situations with other birthmoms (one who we met who wanted to do adoption, whose baby was already born, but where the birthfather objected; another one who called on the way to the hospital saying she had seriously abused cocaine throughout her pg; and finally one who lied to us over and over again -- her baby was born seriously addicted to drugs, in withdrawal -- and the birthmom decided to have her mother parent the baby because child services wouldn't let her). By the time all that was over, we went on vacation to Florida because we were SO depressed. We walked on the beach and tried to reclaim our life. We talked about switching gears and adopting internationally, from Guatemala. We were determined not to deal with any more birthmothers, because we felt we had been burned too many times. On the last day of our vacation in Florida, this past January, our agency called us and said they had gotten a call from a birthmom who wanted to talk to us. She was calling on what was the last ad we had decided to place. I didn't want to call her back. I was so TIRED of talking to birthmoms, only to be burned in the end. And the last thing I wanted to do after a nice, relaxing vacation was climb back on the roller coaster again. But the agency urged me to call her and said she sounded really nice. I did call her and she turned out to be my son's birthmom!! I didn't know that at the time, though, of course! We returned from vacation and met her and the birthfather at their house. They were so nice and laid back and funny and wonderful we ended up talking to them for four hours! She wanted me in the delivery room, too. that was a really hard issue for me, after I had done it before, only to have it turn out so tragically with the failed adoption. I was so scared to go through that again. But the agency urged me to say Yes. So I did. The day before M. went into labor she called me and told me she had found out the gender and that it was a boy. I was a little scared (!) because I was so mentally prepared for a girl, especially after we had Isabelle and had the nursery decked out with pink stuff in the crib, girls' clothes, etc. I immediately went out and got a blue outfit for the baby!! LOL! The next day M. called and told me she thought this was it -- labor. DH and I rushed to the hospital and I was there in the delivery room with her. I almost fainted, which was really embarassing. I later realized it was the extreme emotion of having done it before -- and how scared I was of a repeat, another failed adoption. Ben was born and he was so sweet and beautiful and perfect!!! This time, things were different as M. and S., the birthparents, WANTED DH and I to hold him as much as possible. They knew about our failed adoption and bent over backwards to reassure us that they were NOT changing their minds. They were SO so kind to us it was truly amazing. (They both had children from previous marriages and really wanted to help another couple who couldn't have kids). Right after Ben was born, M. held him and then looked at me and said, "Let's have his mommy hold him." She held him out to me. I just cried so hard. I could only hold him for a second because I was crying so much I was afraid I'd drop him so I told DH to take him! She had said the words I'd been longing to hear. I'll never forgot that. The next day Ben was circumsized and we were allowed to bring him home (on only day two of his life!). I kept thinking God had looked down and made the adoption the opposite of our failed adoption for our sake. Instead of a dark haired little girl born on a perfect June day, Ben was a blond haired little boy born on a cold windy March day. It was the opposite, and yet it just healed our hearts. M. and S. signed the surrender papers the first day they legally could sign them, and Ben's adoption will be finalized Sept. 10. M. and S. restored our faith in the human race that there really are wonderful people out there who are good to total strangers. I just love them. We keep in touch with them with pictures and letters. They sent me the sweetest card on Mother's Day that I will always cherish. I sent M. a flower arrangement on Mother's Day, and, ironically, DH sent me the very same one -- which I thought was a pretty cool coincidence. Ben is the light of our lives. He is a smiling, beautiful, funny, sweet-natured little boy. I give thanks every day for him. Anyway, that's my (long) story!! |