The Truth About Adoption
Here’s the honest-to-goodness truth: I was not excited about adoption until I answered my phone one Sunday afternoon and learned that a birth mama in Texas had chosen Jake and me for the precious life she was carrying.
Don’t get me wrong, I always thought adoption was beautiful and wonderful. But I always thought it was for someone else. The ugly truth is that I didn’t think I’d ever “need” to adopt. Just writing those words hurts my heart. But I promised you the truth, and the truth ain’t always pretty.
In December of 2018, I was DONE in every sense of the word. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. We had taken fertility treatments as far as we possibly could, and the doctors had no answers and no next steps. After four-and-a-half years of trying to get pregnant and countless seemingly-sure things that weren’t, my heart felt like it had been hit with a meat tenderizer over and over again. And the truth is, it had. God used infertility to make my heart tender to adoption.
More ugly truth coming at you. Adoption isn’t another fertility treatment. Adopting a child does not mean you’ll get pregnant. Does that happen for some people? Sure. But an adopted child should never be used as a move in the pregnancy game. If you’ve got a loved one who is walking through infertility, please don’t say anything like: “You should adopt, and then you’ll get pregnant.” And if you’ve got a loved one who walked through infertility and did adopt a child, please don’t say anything like: “I bet you’ll be pregnant soon.”
Adoption is an easy decision for some people. And it’s a very difficult decision for others. For me, it was very difficult. It felt like defeat and surrender and giving up. I had no idea what was in store for me. I had no idea that while I saw adoption as Plan Z, it was always God’s Plan A. Adoption is, was, has been, and always will be God’s best plan for bringing our first child into our family. But it took some meat tenderizing of my heart to get there.
If you are walking through infertility, do not feel an ounce of pressure to adopt. It is a huge decision and one your heart has to be ready for. Mine was not for many years, and that’s ok. God isn’t mad at you for pursuing fertility treatments. He’s not angrily waiting around. And you aren’t missing out on your perfect child because you aren’t jumping into adoption. God is sovereign, and he is using every second of your story to lead you to his best for your life. Take as much time as you need but not more than you have to. Know that you’ll never feel 100% ready, and you will absolutely feel fear. But if your heart feels ready even in the midst of fear, know that you’ve got so much goodness ahead of you.
For me, that moment of afraid-but-ready happened in December of 2018. Jake and I knew something needed to change. We felt completely trapped in an endless cycle of shots, tests, counting days, answering the same questions over and over. Life felt stagnant and stale. So we started simultaneously Googling adoption agencies and apartments in Manhattan. I’m not joking, y’all. We were making plans to sell our house and move to New York City for a little bit. Just to shake things up in a big, bold way. But our hearts also desperately wanted to start a family. Two very different adventures, and we were equally excited about both. But we knew we couldn’t do both at the same time. Moving to New York would mean putting our plans to start a family on hold. So we talked through both options and prayed for clarity and talked some more and prayed some more. And in the glow of our Christmas tree, my husband posed this question: “What do we want most? Do we want adventure for adventure’s sake, or do we want a child?” When he put it that way, there was no doubt that we were going to pursue adoption in 2019.
I woke up the next morning with the sweetest promise from God on my heart and mind: I may never get to experience pregnancy, but I will absolutely experience motherhood.
We filled out our application in January, and it was a day I’ll never forget. I wish I could say it was because I was so overcome with joy, but no. It felt like pulling the plug on pregnancy, and God gave me the space to grieve. I sobbed big, ugly, sad, healing tears outside the PDQ in Winter Park for way too long. Grieving is a good thing, friends. Admitting that we are sad about losing something or someone or some dream that we loved and longed for, and then taking time to be sad. It’s how our hearts heal and open up to receive God’s plan for restoration and redemption.
I got a little more excited each day, but I still had a lot of fear. Mostly about bonding with a child I didn’t birth and our potential relationship with the woman who did.
We became a “waiting family” in April of 2019 and thought we’d be parents by August. But when the calendar turned from 2019 to 2020, we were still childless and started Googling New York City apartments again. We were really going to do it this time. Adoption was going to be something we added to our list of tried-and-failed. Just another piece of our story that God used to teach us something but not how he brought us a child. We were disappointed and frustrated and confused, but we had so much hope. Up to that point, God used our journey through infertility and adoption not to bring us a baby but to lead us to his love. And our hearts were satisfied. Were we sad about the thought of never having children? Of course. But we had peace, we had each other, and we had Jesus in a way we never would have without the journey.
We were ready for our adoption home study to expire in April. We just wanted to be done with the all the baby stuff. That part of our story tasted like sour milk. Expired. No longer good for us or anyone else.
And just five days later, we got the call.
Just like that. Driving down I4. Leaving work on a Sunday afternoon.
That part of our story had expired. And God’s replacement could not have been better or more fresh.
The truth is, I had a lot of fear the entire year we walked through the adoption process. And the truth is, it vanished the second we got the call. I can’t explain it, but I promise you it did. I felt nothing but love for the baby and his birth mama. And whether she chose to go through with her adoption plan or changed her mind and chose to parent him herself, I loved her and wanted only God’s best for her and the baby.
Peace is not the absence of fear. It’s confidence in the midst of fear. Confidence in God’s goodness and his sovereignty. Confidence in his leading - whether it’s the softest whisper or a giant billboard with flashing arrows. (Why is it rarely the second thing?)
November is National Adoption Month, and we were asked to share our adoption story at a fundraiser for our agency earlier this month. Just like the morning I woke up with the promise of motherhood on my heart, I woke up a few mornings before the event with the sweetest truth about adoption on my heart. And oh how grateful this girl who thought she would never need adoption is to be an adoptive mama.
From ugly truths about adoption to a spectacularly beautiful one…
“The truth is, adoption is not natural. It’s not part of God’s intended or ideal design. But the truth is, nothing is. We live in a broken world that God knew was going to break before he even created it, and he loved us enough to create it anyways. Even more so, he loved us enough to put a plan for redemption in motion as he set the not-yet-broken world in motion. So yes, adoption is not ideal, but it is perfect. Adoption is God’s perfect plan to redeem brokenness in families. Our world is broken, but it’s being put back together by the God who is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving. And adoption is part of God’s perfect plan for full redemption, restoration, and healing.”
Early morning scribbles.
Newborn session with the wonderful Rachel Fish Photography.