The Decision

Before we were married, my husband and I had hoped to have two babies and then as they grew into their teens we were going to adopt two young children. We had adventurous fantasies of going on an exotic trip to a remote orphanage. We would fall in love with a child who wanted desperately to return with us to the United States. We would be greeted in an airport by a crowd of cheering family members and friends with balloons and flowers to welcome our new little ones. Our mothers would weep tears of joy at the sight of their precious new grandchildren.

God always has a better plan.

After having married, we waited several years before trying to conceive. I wanted everything to be perfect. Perfect house, good job, and on my time line. But it just didn't work. We tried for many years, and saw a few doctors who wanted to do a few tests before doing a few more tests and then discuss what procedures would be necessary. I had heard stories from other women with infertility who spent thousands of dollars to conceive a child. I didn't have the stomach for invasive procedures, doctor visits, ovulation charts, or the embarrassing inquisitions into my bedroom activities. All I wanted was to be a parent.

My husband and I decided to begin researching adoption and attended an "Open House" for prospective adoptive parents at a local agency. The presenter calmly described food hording, premature sexuality, attachment disorders, severe learning disabilities, destructive outbursts, and smearing of feces on walls as common among foster and adoptive children. Their hopeless description scared us.

It wasn't until the next year that we were willing to revisit adoption. My husband had secured an executive level position that would allow for me to no longer have to work. Now was the time! We began working with a new agency that "found parents for children, not children for parents", a no nonsense philosophy that appealed to us.