Our Trip to Australia

November is National Adoption Awareness Month, and every year I plan to post about it but somehow never find the right words. Infertility is a lonely journey. While people post on Facebook about every aspect of their pregnancy...what size the baby is in comparison to a fruit, every doctor appointment, cravings, kicks, etc...you will never see those items for a couple battling infertility. No one posts things like "Waiting 22 weeks now for a precious little one. Please God!" or "Clomid and the other fertility drugs are giving me hot flashes, cold spells, and making me irritable. No one give me a gun!" or "I had to sit through the third baby shower this month. I tried to be happy, but inside I am dying." I'm not sure why, but it seems to be socially unacceptable to talk/post about how emotionally, spiritually, and financially draining it is to go through infertility. While I would love to get pregnant, most of my sadness lies in the things that I will never be able to give my husband. He'll never be surprised with a pregnancy test or Carter wearing a Big Brother t-shirt. He'll never be able to feel his child kick in my stomach. He'll never be able to hold my hand as the contractions get closer together. I wish that I could give him all of those things, but together we have experienced things so unique and wonderful...so special. We had someone else trust us with their child. I can't explain Adoption Awareness Month from a birth mother perspective. Not that I haven't thought about it...I think about it all the time and my heart breaks at the feelings of loss, loneliness, and depression that I'm sure exist. I just don't know what that feels like, but I can explain how it feels on this side. A while back I found an article that is so beautifully written. It sums up exactly how infertility and adoption feels. It was published in a Dear Abby column. I wish I knew who the author was to give them full credit.

Different Trips to the Same Place

Deciding to have a baby is like planning a trip to Australia. You've heard it's a wonderful place, you've read many guidebooks and feel certain you're ready to go. Everyone you know has traveled there by plane. They say it can be a turbulent flight with occasional rough landings, but you can look forward to being pampered on the trip.

So you go to the airport and ask the ticket agent for a ticket to Australia. All around you, excited people are boarding planes for Australia. It seems there is no seat for you; you'll have to wait for the next flight. Impatient, but anticipating a wonderful trip, you wait -- and wait -- and wait.



Flights to Australia continue to come and go. People say silly things like, "Relax. You'll get on a flight soon." Other people actually get on a plane and then cancel their trip, to which you cry, "It's not fair!"

After a long time the ticket agent tells you, "I'm sorry, we're not going to be able to get you on a plane to Australia. Perhaps you should think about going by boat."

"By boat!" you say. "Going by boat will take a very long time and it costs a great deal of money. I really had my heart set on going by plane." So you go home and think about not going to Australia at all. You wonder if Australia will be as beautiful if you approach it by sea rather than air. But you have long dreamed of this wonderful place, and finally you decide to travel by boat.

It is a long trip, many months over many rough seas. No one pampers you. You wonder if you will ever see Australia. Meanwhile, your friends have flown to Australia two or three more times, marveling about each trip.

Then one glorious day, the boat docks in Australia. It is more exquisite than you ever imagined, and the beauty is magnified by your long days at sea. You have made many wonderful friends during your voyage, and you find yourself comparing stories with others who also traveled by sea rather than by air.

People continue to fly to Australia as often as they like, but you are able to travel only once, perhaps twice. Some say things like, "Oh, be glad you didn't fly. My flight was horrible; traveling by sea is so easy."

You will always wonder what it would have been like to fly to Australia. Still, you know God blessed you with a special appreciation of Australia, and the beauty of Australia is not in the way you get there, but in the place itself.



I know three things to be true.

1. I love Carter more because of how hard our trip was. All parents love their children, but I hold him tighter, thank God more, and drink in every moment because they are so special. He is so special.
2. Since Carter is getting older, I get asked all the time if we will adopt again. Australia is far away and really expensive, but I know that he'll make a great, big brother, so I won't give up hoping that we can make "the trip" again. I trust that God has a perfect plan for us.
3. I have been blessed by having the same traveling companion for the last (almost) 20 years. Brandon is an amazing man, husband, and father. Carter and I trust him to captain our ship any day. 

I'm not sure what the exact purpose of this post is or who my intended audience should be. I only hope that I have brought some awareness, from an adoptive mother's perspective, to the topic. And when you see this cute face every morning, I think you'll agree with me...Adoption has blessed me in so many ways!