Our Journey to Parenthood: Embracing Hope Through Adoption After Infertility

I’ve always lived my life like an open book, sharing my experiences without hesitation. While this openness has mostly served me well, there have been moments when it’s led to vulnerability. Yet, looking back, I am profoundly grateful for having been so transparent throughout our arduous journey with miscarriages and infertility. It was this willingness to share that forged connections and relationships, without which I genuinely believe I would not have navigated those challenging years.

Infertility is a uniquely isolating experience, a profound struggle that one truly cannot comprehend until living through it firsthand. My sincere prayer is that no one ever has to walk this path. While observers might catch a glimpse of its impact, it remains an exclusive club—one that absolutely no one desires to join, yet into which far too many are unexpectedly thrust. Statistics show that 1 in 8 couples face infertility, making it a widespread challenge affecting countless lives.

Our story took an intriguing turn the moment we pivoted from fertility treatments to adoption. My open narrative, once flowing freely, almost came to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t about hiding anything; rather, much of the adoption process necessitates a significant degree of privacy. As we transitioned, our journey expanded beyond just Anthony and me. A third party entered our lives—someone we met, yet who remained anonymous, someone considering placing her child with us. This delicate dynamic instantly made sharing our story a far more intricate and sensitive endeavor.

Navigating the Emotional Landscape of Infertility

For years, the highs and lows of our quest for a baby were sporadically shared in fragments across various posts. Then, the decision to fully embrace the adoption process prompted me to lay bare our entire infertility struggle in a comprehensive post. It felt like the right time to move forward, to truly release that chapter of our lives, and to embrace the exciting, albeit uncertain, path ahead.

Our adoption story, therefore, begins precisely where that previous post, detailing our shift, concluded. To be completely honest, our initial steps into this new journey felt like two deer caught in headlights. We were utterly clueless, staring into an unknown landscape with no idea where to even begin. The sheer enormity of the adoption process, coupled with our lack of prior experience, left us feeling overwhelmed and directionless.

February 13, 2017: A Day of Closure and a Spark of Hope

February 13, 2017. For many, it was merely the day before Valentine’s Day. For us, it marked the devastating confirmation that our final fertility procedure had not resulted in pregnancy. The news left me utterly numb. I had never envisioned this as our endpoint. I hadn’t grasped the true depth of how incredibly difficult this journey could be. Four years. We had been trying to conceive for over four agonizing years, enduring countless pokes, prods, hormone treatments, floods of tears, and so much more. And now, for the very last time, we heard those two heartbreaking words: “Not pregnant.”

I know with absolute certainty that without Anthony by my side that day, I might not have emerged from the cold, deep chasm of pain I discovered within myself. I vividly recall the drive home, staring blankly ahead. I wasn’t really looking at anything specific, but I can still pinpoint the exact stretch of highway we were on when the news was delivered. Tears silently streamed down my face, and I just stared. Once home, we looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. All I wanted was to curl into a ball under a heavy blanket and retreat from the world for a month, perhaps even longer.

But Anthony, my rock, wouldn’t allow me to stay lost in that darkness.

“Where’s that card?” he asked, his voice firm yet gentle.

“What card?” I responded, my mind still hazy with despair.

“The card. The business card for the adoption lawyer. I’m calling her now.”

I fumbled through my wallet, my hands trembling slightly, pulling out the card with her number and handing it to Anthony. He called immediately, leaving a message. A tiny flutter stirred in my stomach—the first stirring of emotion beyond sorrow. (Side note: this is the first moment I’ve cried while writing this very post, reliving that profound shift). We had just received the worst possible news, yet here was my husband, sweeping in, taking action, refusing to give up or surrender. Even though I was still deeply upset, a sudden, fragile hope began to blossom as I listened to him leave that message.

He then asked me to call or text her as well. He was determined to get the ball rolling as soon as possible, and a part of me, however small, knew I wanted that too.

Taking the First Steps: Finding Guidance and Agency

We managed to connect with the lawyer and scheduled a coffee meeting later that week. Our minds were a whirlwind of questions: Where do we start? What do we need to do? What are our options? We were, once again, completely in the dark about what the entire adoption process truly entailed.

We met at a local coffee shop, arriving early before Anthony had to head into work. The sheer volume of information was immense, but I remain incredibly grateful for that initial meeting. It felt as if we had an insider, someone with firsthand experience across all forms of adoption, guiding us. She meticulously walked us through the different types of adoption, outlining the pros and cons of each, and then reviewed the various agencies in town that we should consider. We spent that entire evening discussing everything, ultimately deciding to pursue a private local agency. We chose one specifically recommended by our lawyer, whose expertise we trusted implicitly.

Want to hear something truly interesting? The adoption agency we ultimately chose was located just a block from our apartment when we were first married. It stood on the opposite corner of where I was currently working at the time. I must have walked past that building hundreds of times, barely registering its presence, simply passing by without a second thought. And yet, it was soon to become our lighthouse, our guiding beacon of hope in a sea of uncertainty.

Once we had made our decision on the agency, I contacted them without delay to initiate the process. We were asked to complete a relatively small stack of forms—likely the smallest pile we’d encounter throughout the entire journey—before our first official meeting. This simple act felt monumental.

For the first time in years, I felt a resurgence of excitement, even genuine hope. Simultaneously, I was incredibly nervous, truly clueless about what we were embarking upon, and unaware of the intricate details the process would demand. But deep within, a profound sense of rightness settled over me, a feeling stronger and more reassuring than any I had experienced during our fertility treatments. So, despite the anxieties, a lot of good feelings accompanied me as I gathered everything we needed to begin this new, transformative chapter.

Grief, Acceptance, and Stepping into a New Reality

Even with the blossoming excitement, a part of me remained lost, steeped in pain, and actively grieving. The very start of this adoption journey necessitated the acceptance of a profound truth: I would likely never experience birthing my own child. It was about coming to terms with the fact that my belly wouldn’t swell with pregnancy, that people wouldn’t ask me about my due date, and that I wouldn’t join my friends and relatives in conversations about breastfeeding and childbirth. This was a deep, personal loss that I had to acknowledge and process.

This transition to adoption meant letting go of many of my most cherished dreams, many of the life events I had always vividly pictured for myself. I remember sitting at work, listening to colleagues animatedly discuss their pregnancies, sharing every detail and recounting their own birth stories. I would often busy myself, pretending not to notice, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. And every single time someone remarked, “Gee, there must be something in the water here,” referring to the numerous pregnant coworkers, a tiny part of me withered inside.

Then there were the well-meaning, yet often hurtful, comments from others. People would tell me, “Just wait, as soon as you get on the adoption list, boom, you’ll get pregnant!” (A public service announcement: please, never say this to anyone trying to adopt, considering adoption, or struggling with fertility. Please.) Or they would recount stories of so-and-so who adopted a baby and then miraculously found out she was pregnant. Or they would say, “Don’t give up on trying!” I heard them all, but these sentiments did not help my healing process. This period of grieving was essential, a necessary letting go so that I could be fully present and wholeheartedly committed to our decision to shift our journey to adoption.

The decision to adopt is a truly monumental one, a profound commitment. When others inadvertently treat it as a temporary measure until one conceives biologically, it simply undermines the gravity and beauty of the choice. So, I allowed myself to grieve. I let myself cry. And then, slowly, I was ready to fully step into this new space, this new reality, and embrace our unfolding story.

The Adoption Agency: A Welcoming Start and the “Hurry Up and Wait”

Our meeting with the adoption agency went exceptionally well. We felt an immediate sense of confidence in the director, especially knowing that she and her husband had adopted two girls themselves. This personal experience strongly conveyed to me that this wasn’t merely a job for her; it was a deeply personal passion, and she genuinely understood the emotional landscape we were navigating. The agency itself had a wonderfully cozy atmosphere, occupying the upstairs of an old house beautifully renovated for businesses. We sat, chatted openly, shared our fears and anxieties, but also articulated just how desperately we wanted to welcome a child into our family. She thoroughly explained the home study process and what lay ahead, and from that moment, the ball truly started rolling.

One of the insightful truths our social worker shared with us early on was that the adoption process often feels like a peculiar “Hurry up and Wait” endeavor. In the initial stages, there is an immense amount to do, almost tediously so (more on that next time). However, this flurry of activity creates a vital sense of purpose, making you feel as though you are actively working towards the most beautiful end goal imaginable. And that is precisely what the home study portion of the process entails—a whirlwind of preparations, paperwork, and self-reflection.

What’s Next in Our Adoption Story?

And that, my dear friends, is where we will pause today. This concludes Part One of our adoption story: detailing the raw beginnings, the foundational decisions, and the emotional build-up to what it truly means to embark on this profound process. The nitty-gritty details, the practicalities, and the deeper emotional trenches are what we will delve into next time. As our story continues, you can certainly anticipate many more moments where I found myself crying or teetering on the edge of a nervous wreck. But since we all know this story ultimately leads to a happy ending, you can still rest easy tonight until we pick up where we left off.

Thank you so much for allowing me to share our journey, for listening, and perhaps for passing our story on to someone you know who truly needs to hear it. Since next week is Mother’s Day, I plan to bring you Part 2, which will lead us right up to the incredible moment we got to hold our precious, perfect little guy. xoxo

Check out Part 2 and Part 3 of our Adoption Story for the continuation of our journey.

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Nourishment for Body and Soul: Sweet Potato Morning Glory Muffins

Sometimes, I waver on whether to include a recipe in such a deeply personal post. But honestly, after a hearty helping of food for the soul, there’s nothing quite like some good, comforting food for the body. This post has been quite lengthy, so I won’t dwell too much on these muffins, except to say they are a massive win in my culinary book. I am by no means a baking extraordinaire, so when I achieve a baking triumph, it truly feels like a home run. Morning glory muffins have always been one of my absolute favorites, so I decided to experiment with a version incorporating sweet potatoes. While you could easily use pumpkin instead, I developed a real affection for the subtle sweetness and moist texture the sweet potatoes impart.

I promise that any morning you begin with these delightfully fluffy Sweet Potato Morning Glory Muffins is bound to be a truly wonderful morning! They also make for an excellent, wholesome snack any time of day. Try drizzling a little almond butter over them or smothering them with fresh butter for an extra treat – you’ll be glad you did. Muffins are also fantastic for make-ahead breakfasts, allowing kids to simply grab one and enjoy it on their way to school. That’s a win-win for everyone!