So this is the *short* version of a very long story…We got married in 2004 and moved to Simi Valley. I was 24, my husband was 31. I wasn’t employed full-time when we got married (I was substitute teaching and hoping for a full time job with our school district). We spent just 2 months living in our apartment before we moved into our first home – which we rented. We both decided to wait to start a family until we had some more stability – both as a couple and financially. I mean, we were both young, there was plenty of time…or so we thought.
After 4 years of marriage, we were ready for a family – so we began trying…and failed miserably. After a couple years, we sought outside help…it didn’t go well, I wasn’t comfortable with the pace we went. So, we just kept trying…and failing. It seemed everyone around me thought about having a baby an ended up pregnant…everyone but me. “Just don’t think about it and it will happen.” “Try this method.” “Take this supplement.” “Count days.” “Take temperatures.” “Stop trying so hard you’re stressing yourself out.” Meanwhile, I am teaching middle school and spending my days with other people’s kids…while not being able to have my own. Then, one night while hanging out with my friend, I had the worst feeling in my abdomen and began bleeding – by the time I was able to see my doctor 3 days later the bleeding hadn’t stopped. She told me I probably had a miscarriage but couldn’t be sure since it was several days later.
Maybe I could get pregnant. We kept trying – and getting frustrated…so we sought outside help again. We did all the testing – there really wasn’t anything medically that would prevent us from getting pregnant – but, according to the fertility clinic – sometimes couples just need help. We began fertility treatments. Five rounds of IUIs – missing work for appointments, more ultrasounds than I wanted to count – medications, hormones, and my science teacher friends giving me my injections in the science storage room at lunch…nothing. When we started the 6th IUI round the doctor told us that if we weren’t successful, we should consider IVF – more expensive and more difficult. I was already feeling hopeless. I waited through that cycle for the day I could test to see if maybe…maybe I would get to be a mom…and a miracle happened – I was pregnant – confirmed by blood test…I was elated – my husband was ecstatic!
Then a week later – I wasn’t pregnant any more. I know exactly when it happened. I was standing in the front of my classroom teaching a lesson on George Washington’s pregnancy when *bam!* miscarried right there before lunch. My friends covered my class and I went to my doctor to confirm what I already knew – I had, in fact, miscarried. But, good news, we could try IUI again since it worked. After several more rounds I was done. I couldn’t do it any more. I couldn’t emotionally handle the stress of missing work for appointments, taking hormones, waiting, and then, being disappointed. I couldn’t take the pressure this was putting not only on me, but my marriage. So we stopped treatments – and I started therapy.
I was 36 years old and giving up on the dream of having a baby…and then my brother and his wife told us they were pregnant…then my sister/brother-in-law got pregnant and I was so happy for all of them, but I was also so incredibly jealous and sad. I had so much anger and guilt and fear. What had I done in my life that I didn’t deserve to be a mom? Why was I being punished? Every time a friend or relative got pregnant the sadness and despair started all over again.Being around my friend’s and family’s kids was great because I loved them – and I fell in love with my nieces – but it was also a personal hell – someone else’s joy that I would never know.
It took a while, but I began to look into adoption….but I was getting older, and the idea of having a baby just didn’t seem that important…I just wanted to be a mom. Getting my husband on board the adoption train was harder. He was the only male in his family and had this desire to carry on the blood line. But I couldn’t go through any more treatments. He suggested surrogacy – but I didn’t want to watch someone else carry MY child and I didn’t want him to have a child “with” someone else that wasn’t mine – it was selfish on my part, but I couldn’t do it. He was therapy, too. Both of us talking to our respective therapists about our options and feelings. Somewhere along the line we started seriously talking adoption – fostering and then adopting – but maybe moving first into a bigger place – something we had been talking about for 10 years.
In June of 2019 I had had enough of the talking. I told my husband we were selling our house and moving and we were going to begin the process to foster and adopt. At the end of July we put our house on the market. In August we started classes to become a resource (foster) family. We finished our classes at the end of September. We moved into our new home the first week of October. By December we were working on our resource family application. So here we are..two days away from our first meeting with our social worker. It has been a really long road to get where we are…but now the journey to becoming a family begins….
Journey to Become a Family 