Thoughts on adoption

I've been thinking to myself that if a newborn (or a birthmom) were presented to us, we'd say, "Absolutely!" without hesitation.

But on a bboard, I just saw someone post that she knows a birthmom who wants to find a family. My heart skipped a beat. Would we be open to this idea?

Turns out, the birth parents are mixed-race, and they want a mixed-race family. Clearly T and I do not fit that bill. It's not the situation for us.

But it got me thinking about a baby. I do want a baby. I do want a baby right now. But am I ready to adopt -- to say yes to an adopted baby right now? I don't know. I think I'm still attached to some sort of ART working. Even donor egg with donor sperm makes me feel less scared than adoption right now.

I feel so confused. I want to be able to let go, but I can't yet. We are going to an all day adoption seminar on Saturday. (Ironically, we'll have to miss my cousin's baby's bris because of this. This is the second cousin baby in about a month.) But something about adoption doesn't sit well with me. This is so weird because my niece L is so great and that adoption has worked so well so far at age 11. Why can't I shake my scared feelings?

I know a bunch of successful adoption stories that last until adulthood. But I also know scary adoption stories of children no longer talking to their parents. I don't want that. But then again, I know fully biological children that as adults don't really talk to their parents.

The thing is, I feel like the not talking thing is different for the biological families than for the adoptive families. Maybe that's me throwing my baggage onto it, but that's what I feel like. Of course, thinking on it, it's not 100% true. Mental illness is probably the #1 reason for the not talking thing. I can think of 2 mental illness not talking situations off the top of my head. One of them is an adoptive child and one of them is a biological one. I know that adoption agencies try their best to screen for a family history of mental illness. And honestly, I'm not sure if we know whether or not our donor has a family history of mental illness. We don't think so, but do we know for sure? Another not talking situation is just because the son, now an adult, just didn't quite keep up with his sister (biological to the parents) and the parents (both professors). I get the feeling that he didn't feel like he fit in, especially intellectually. That's the one that really scares me. I'm afraid of our kid not fitting in with T and me.

I know there is nothing certain in the world. Anything can go wrong in any situation. Things can go wrong, biology or no biology. So why am I so uncomfortable with this whole adoption thing? Why? I don't want to be anymore.

Maybe it's because I got pregnant with donor #2 and I know we have 3 more vials left. Maybe it's because I know there's a chance that I could get pregnant, and with that chance right there, I can't mentally move on yet. Maybe it's because T and I decided we would definitely do IVF one more time with my eggs and donor sperm (with insurance coverage) before moving on.

I want to be able to process more than one thing at a time, but I'm not sure I can.

We also want to think about donor eggs and donor sperm if I don't get pregnant with my eggs. Both T and I thought we we would never think about that route, but we're finding out that our feelings are changing. At least we feel like we can have a little input on our child's biology with donor gametes.

Of course, we need the results of my tests first. If there's nothing wrong with my eggs, then donor eggs won't solve our problem.

I guess I just want all the answers instantly, and that's not possible. Writing this down made me smile a little. T tells me that I am extremely impatient, and I know it's true. Well, infertility sure forces patience on a person.

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In other news, the penicillin is definitely helping as my throat feels much better, but I'm still not feeling really well. Perhaps I caught a virus along with the evil throat thing. I haven't been this sick in a long, long time. Happily, though, I am slowly recovering.