Last night I tucked my sweet boys into bed and talked about my almost 5-year old’s upcoming birthday.
“What kind of cake do you want for your birthday?” I asked.
“A yellow one, with chocolate frosting and lots of sprinkles,” he answered.
“Do you want to hear about your birth story?” I asked.
“I want to hear about my birth mom, please,” he answered.
This is such a bittersweet story. I am lucky to be his mom and he is so lucky to be in a family who loves him endlessly. But, adoption carries innate pain.
5 years ago, my husband and I were in our 10th year of marriage. We’d struggled through many years of infertility and a failed adoption. We were matched with another birth mom and things were not going well.
The possibility of us becoming parents seemed so distant and inconceivable.
My sister called me. She’s a therapist and is good for an occasional mental health check.
“Hey, I have a friend who knows a high school girl looking for an adoptive family. Do you know anyone?” She asked.
Selfishly, I wanted to be considered. “Do you think she would look at our profile?” I asked. “It’s important for her to know that we are already matched with another birth mom, and could end up with two babies.”
Later that evening, my sister called back. The young woman wanted to know about us. Her mom was a twin, and they thought it’d be fine to have two babies!
Although I didn’t have high hopes, I mustered up enough courage to send a link to our online profile, and we set a date to meet – two days later.
Ironically, at this point, we didn’t know much about her. I knew her age and her race (why is this a thing?). But I didn’t know where she lived, what she looked like, or her name. None of that mattered really… I just wanted to feel a connection to her, and I wanted her to trust me and like me.
Stay tuned for what happened next… for now, we are celebrating courage, connections, and the five year anniversary of the luckiest day in my life!