This is the second blog post of a three-part series. My prayer in sharing our story throughout this series is that families who are in the waiting will feel encouraged and to see how God perfectly knit our story together. Disclaimer: Our daughter’s birth mother has given permission to share details of our story. Some details will remain private for the sake of the intimacy of our journey.
I will never forget the moment I heard a doctor say to me, “you will never be able to have [biological] children.” I had just turned 16 and was diagnosed with a rare genetic condition that resulted in infertility. Everything around me blurred, the doctor’s voice muffled as I felt my world crumbling around me. My dreams, my plans and my future all shattered with one sentence. I felt betrayed by my own body. It was not able to do the “one” thing a woman’s body should be able to do. I honestly don’t remember a lot of what happened in the six months after my diagnosis. I was grieving the plans I had made for my life and the dreams of what could have been. I was feeling broken, defective and purposeless.
Let’s be honest. The road to adoption is exhausting.
My husband, Auston, and I are still in our “season of waiting” and can tell you firsthand that the ups and downs of this experience can drain you and your marriage. Early in this ever-winding road of trying to grow our family, my husband and I have experienced ill health, pregnancy losses, and large disagreements that could only be resolved after speaking with a professional counselor. We have been poked and prodded by doctors. We’ve been forced to face hard truths about our physical, emotional, and psychological limits. And that all occurred BEFORE we chose to sign on with an adoption agency for the “next path forward”...
Like you, I think we all went into adoption for the first time scared, uncertain, uncomfortable, and lost in all that is adoption. One thing we all know we can lean on is God and His timing. Throughout our walk in our adoption journey, we know that there are times when we feel alone and the silence in it is deafening. But if I can give you one ounce of hope – it is that God is there in the silence, in the pain, in the frustration, and He is in the joy. Here is our story – full of bumps, silence, and joy.
Hello! My name is Christine. Adoption has always been part of my story, as I am an adoptee myself. My husband, John, and I always knew that we wanted to grow our family through adoption someday. Like so many couples, John and I faced infertility issues when trying to start our family. After a year and a half of trying and visiting fertility specialists, we were told we would never conceive naturally. We were also told that IVF and IUI would not be options either due to aggravating factors. We had a long weekend getaway trip to Gatlinburg planned, and we got the phone call from the fertility doctor the day before we were scheduled to leave. It was amazing how God had already lined up a space for us to getaway to and grieve…
This is the second blog post of a three-part series. My prayer in sharing our story throughout this series is that families who are in the waiting will feel encouraged and to see how God perfectly knit our story together. Disclaimer: Our daughter’s birth mother has given permission to share details of our story. Some details will remain private for the sake of the intimacy of our journey.
Hello! My name is Christine. Adoption has always been part of my story, as I am an adoptee myself. My husband, John, and I always knew that we wanted to grow our family through adoption someday. Like so many couples, John and I faced infertility issues when trying to start our family. After a year and a half of trying and visiting fertility specialists, we were told we would never conceive naturally. We were also told that IVF and IUI would not be options either due to aggravating factors. We had a long weekend getaway trip to Gatlinburg planned, and we got the phone call from the fertility doctor the day before we were scheduled to leave. It was amazing how God had already lined up a space for us to getaway to and grieve…
