Baby makin' in the light

I've been hemmin' and hawin', wishin' and washin', backin' and forthin' about if/when/how I should share the steps we're taking to add another Burden to our clan.

Everyone loves an adoption story, don't they? The exciting decision, the waiting, the referral, the travel or the hospital trip, the birth or the gotcha day, the long, long, long awaited coming home. It's powerful, inspiring, and emotional in the very best of ways.

But when you can't get pregnant adoption is not the only choice, of course. There are fertility treatments too.

Not too many people like those stories. Those stories are sad and medical. They get icky and hormonal. There's not too much of a soaring plot line behind injections and pee sticks.

There's also shame. Partially because fertility is related to sex and sex sometimes carries a little shame on its back, doesn't it? At least a little taboo. I've also discovered- sadly- that there's some shame in it because of the expense. When John and I announced our plan to adopt Arie I heard this comment on repeat:

I'm so glad you decided to adopt instead of do fertility treatments. Why would you waste all that money trying to have your own kid when there are already so many needy kids in the world?? 

Boy are there a few things I'd like to say about that:

1) Let's just all agree to not use the descriptor "your own" when we're talking about bio vs. adopted kids. My children are "my own" children no matter their origins. As an adult I let the phrase roll off my back, but I don't want my son to hear that one. He's my own, forever. The end.

2) Infertility is a medical condition, not a moral one. People who struggle with infertility have every right to pursue as much or as little treatment as they desire just as a person with any other medical condition does. People who struggle with infertility are no more and no less responsible for the care of orphans than fertile people. Adoption is a calling, not an answer to a medical condition. Which leads me to my last point:

3) Adoption doesn't solve infertility; it solves childlessness. Infertility brings with it a host of emotions. Shock, despair, sadness, anger... all the emotions of grief. There is no sidestepping that grief and no way to just "get over it." It is something each person needs to work through and learn how to live with. Adopting a child will fill the childless void after infertility, but it can't fill the void of pregnancy or the feelings of bodily brokenness a person experiences in infertility. The experience of infertility and the act of adoption are often related but still distinct and each person will work through the related emotions on their own time and in their own way. "Why don't you just adopt?" is not a good question to ask someone who is grieving infertility.

Shame has no business walking around in the waiting room of the fertility world. I understand the desire to be private about these things, but privacy is a word that should denote feelings of peace and calm, not anxious hiding or embarrassment.

With all that in mind, I've hemmed and hawed, wished and washed, back and forthed my way over the the side of no shame and I've decided to use my voice to take something that lives in the dark and bring it into the light.

John and I have decided to pursue fertility treatments instead of adoption for Burden #2. We want to adopt again and seriously considered starting the process at what would have been now, but after lots of prayer and conversation we decided to go the fertility route first. We wanted a grand divine gesture to tell us what to do. We asked for one. But we didn't get it.

You know how we made the decision?

A number. Namely, 28 which is the age at which most women peak in their fertility and also the age I'll be in 6 month's time. Since we already know we'll need help to conceive, we want time to be on our side.

We're feeling like it's a now or never choice and neither of us were comfortable with the idea of never. So here we go. We're starting a 10 day vacation on Thursday and when we get back I'll be making some calls and setting up some appointments to get this treatment started.

It's a little scary to think about sharing something so vulnerable with you- and to have faith in myself to walk that line between privacy and fear- but like I said I'm inviting you in because:

No shame. 

xo

PS: Today I'm also sharing my story over at KirstenKline.com. Check it out!