For many years we tried to have a baby through IUI and IVF. Blood tests, ultra sounds, and hormone injections became the norm. We lived our life based on my cycle. The negative pregnancy tests were taking their toll on us both emotionally and financially. One day while wondering how much more we could take, we realized that maybe our path to parenthood should be through adoption. After all, we each have an adopted brother so we were no strangers to the idea.
Deciding to adopt was the easy thing. Figuring out how to go about it was the arduous task. At first we got turned down from several agencies that told us they would not work with a lesbian couple. One agency tried to discourage us saying that birth mothers prefer traditional families and therefore it would likely be a waste of our time to adopt. When we finally found an agency that welcomed us we were overjoyed. The agency seemed to be very caring and they went to great lengths to show how involved they were in the regions where they worked. This would be a foreign adoption and our child would be coming from an extremely impoverished area so we were impressed by the agency’s humanitarian efforts. Or so it seemed.
We were eventually matched with a beautiful eight year old girl. We knew her name, received her information, sent pictures and gifts. We prepared her room. We bought clothes and toys and waited for the call to travel. And then the bottom fell out. The adoption fell through. We were heartbroken. And every time we had to retell the story we felt the pain all over again.
Once it was apparent there was no way to complete the adoption we grieved for the loss of a child we’d never met but had come to love. And even though it seemed like the odds were stacked against us, we were determined to be parents. I could not shake the feeling that we were supposed to be someone’s mommies. There was a child out there that should be with us.
And then, our many years of trails and suffering evaporated in an instant. In one phone call actually. An attorney friend, who knew our horror story in detail, also knew Dr. Dean Kirschner of Adoption Makes Family.
One night, while out at dinner I got a phone call from a number I did not recognize. Dr. K was calling to see if we would be interested in adopting an African American infant male. Well that was different from our original plan. But yes! Absolutely we were interested. “Great,” said Dr. K, “He’s due next week.” NEXT WEEK?! And so began 10 days of preparation for the arrival of our first son.
It was a whirlwind of activity. We had no car seat, no crib, and no diapers. Suddenly all of our dreams were coming true. And all of the pain and grief that we’d experienced faded away. We were not worried about the birth mother changing her mind. We were not concerned about complications of any sort. We knew better than anyone that those possibilities existed. But we also knew that this baby was our baby. He was the one we had been waiting for.
Dr. K. brought us to the hospital to meet our son, Caiden. We met Caiden in the hospital nursery when he was one hour old. Holding him in his hospital “baby burrito” and little knit cap made it very very real. Everything we had experienced had led us to this moment. This was our baby. The one we’d been dreaming and praying and hoping for. Adoption Makes Family made us a family.
Caiden is now a bustling, energetic toddler who recently became a big brother. We adopted our second child, a daughter, through Adoption Makes Family. It has been a blessing to our family to deal with Dr. Kirschner and the staff of Adoption Makes Family. They are loving and genuine people who operate with the utmost integrity and caring for both the adoptive and the birth parents. I cannot say enough about how wonderful our experience has been dealing with AMF and we have two beautiful children to show for it!