November 8th, My Story


It’s super hard to separate “my” story from “our” story. Everyone has their own journey to adoption. On World Adoption Day, here is just the very beginning of our story….


In January of 2013 my health insurance at my new job kicked in. We had been waiting to try to conceive until then. I️ also wanted to see a gynecologist- my cycles were super bananas and there was a part of me that was convinced we would have trouble getting pregnant on our own. I️ made an appointment to see a doctor on January 6th. At that appt the doctor said everything looked great! In fact it was the perfect time in my cycle to try to conceive. I️ was so relieved. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as I️ thought. We tried for a couple of months and nothing happened. I️ felt okay about it. However, I️ felt immense pressure from family. I️ saw them watch to see if I️ was drinking at family functions. They were not subtle about their “subtle” glances and asks. After 2 months of trying I️ was still convinced my wackadoo cycle was to blame so I️ made an appointment with a reproductive gynecologist. She examined me, again saying that my uterus looked great :) but still, the invasive tests began- all the while continuing to try to conceive. For a while I️ wore this tiny monitor under my armpit that tracked my body temperature, hormones, and lord knows what else. I️ felt like I️ was part robot. I️ also had the pleasure of taking progesterone pills daily. You don’t swallow progesterone. I’ll let you use your imagination as to how I️ got the progesterone to my uterus area. By April (only trying for 4 months) my doctor suggested E get tested. And so he did. The tests were inconclusive, and so he was tested again. In May I️ received the call that E was infertile (this story is shared with total permission from E). He had no active swimmers. My doctor suggested a sperm donor, perhaps a brother or cousin of E’s. I️ thanked her for the suggestion. We saw one more urologist who said there was no way E would produce sperm- just something his body doesn’t do and he also suggested the same thing. Neither of us were particular upset. I️ think my brain just had to begin to slowly shift what our narrative would be. We weren’t keen on a sperm donor. We listened and left. No doctor mentioned any other options, assuming I️ wanted to carry a child. I don’t remember our trip home that evening. What I️ do remember is the next day after work having a very clear and direct conversation. We always knew we would adopt. What we didn’t know was that our first child would be adopted. We popped open a bottle of champagne, cried tears of joy and toasted to adoption.

What a simple beginning to our story. It’s been implied to me by most who are ballsy enough to ask that I️ must have been the one who was unable to conceive. That I️ was “broken”. I️ am not broken. Ethan is not broken. There is nothing broken about our story.

From time to time Ethan likes to remind me that most couples have babies, but most couples don’t adopt and that makes our story uniquely special. I️ like to think so. Xx