The Paper Process

The Paper Process

Woohoo!! We have Matthew! The relinquishment papers have been signed and sent! We’re done with the bureaucracy!!

Or are we?

It turns out, we had to wait 6 months, within which three visitations from a social worker occurred. Then we could go through the actual paper process within the court system.

So what exactly is the paper process?

Originally, I envisioned the paper process to involve the birth parents’ relinquishment statement to be signed, sealed, then sent to Sacramento. We then just wait for verification or receipt and a court date. It turns out that was just the initial process, the easiest, and the quickest. The relinquishment papers were actually filed the day we left the hospital with the baby.

From the time the baby came home with us, we officially became foster family. At least that’s what I think we were. We had three visits from our social worker, mostly just checking up on us and how we were doing as a family. I actually liked the visits. Our social worker was also our counselor. We received numerous advice about how to manage/cope with another baby after having such a gap between the two boys. I was instructed to allow Alan to go on his bike rides for his own sanity while I was allowed to subscribe to a weekly meal delivery. As difficult as it was (those who’ve had children know that infancy is the most trying part- sleeplessness often gets the best of you) we felt we were much more relaxed this time around and we really enjoyed each stage knowing well how fast it ends. Not to mention the full strength I have – not having to recover from delivery and nursing. The first six months were what I call baby moon phase.

After six months came, alas, the paperwork from hell. Alan did most of it, filling in various paperwork, dropped it off at the court house, only to get it right back in the post instructing us to fill out parts that did not pertain to us. Mind, it took them about six weeks to get this back to us – to fill out one line. Did I mention a line that did not even pertain to us? We then had to drop this back off again.

Why not post the papers, you ask. Well, it took six weeks for us to get the paperwork back from the court house. Could you imagine the thoughts we avoided about the postal service and proper stamps or mailing address? This way, we knew it was only clerical scheduling we were waiting on.

The unnecessary painful part, though admittedly, makes for a good story – dropping the paperwork off. The first time around was a  breeze. The second time and the third time around were a mess. First, Alan had dropped by on his way somewhere, which was a bank holiday (one of those bank holidays that no one really ever has so to everyone else was a normal day except for banks and government offices). He wondered why the parking was rather empty. The second time around was me dropping it off on a Monday. As I arrived at noon, I thought the place was closed for lunch so I decided to take Matthew for lunch. We came back an hour later and it was still closed. It was, yet again, a holiday (I didn’t realize President’s day was also on the Monday). 

Do they ever work? 

I came back the following week, this time was not a holiday. This one took another two months before we got a court date, after which, another paperwork was to be filled and filed. Back to the courthouse we were. Although, this time we’ve learned our lessons well. We dropped this one off and thought whew! That’s out of the way. 

The first month passed. Then the next month. And another. Our agency had asked for a court date so we informed them that we’ve not heard back from them, four months on. We were told to contact them to follow up and make sure they had all the necessary items. Well guess what, both Alan and I tried to phone them and no person to be spoken to. No, there was actually no way to speak to anyone. When we did, we were instructed to phone the number where no person was ever to be spoken to, just machines and various prompts and instructions. It was like going on circles except you never know which circle you’re on. Going circles on an abyss. 

Matthew’s birthday came and gone, and nothing. Yes, one year on from taking him home to us we still have no proof that he is in fact officially ours. We can’t leave the country (he has no passport) if we wanted to go on holiday. In fact, we weren’t allowed to leave the state.

When we did get something, we didn’t want to open the envelope for fear of yet more trips to the ever-holidaying courthouse. 

Indeed, it was from the courthouse with a court-date for June 8. Woohoo!! The end of paperwork and red tape!!

 Or is it? We got the birth certificate, yes, but the paper work continues with the Social Security Office...

Matthew Found

In January 2017, 45 months later (keep in mind we were given an estimate of 18-24 months) my husband and I fell in, once again for the 3^rd time, disheartening introspection. We had given ourselves until the end of 2016 before we reevaluated what we wanted to do – keep waiting or just move on with our one child. 2016 came and gone with one failed match. Failed because she was an ICWA (Indian Child Welfare Act). Failed because she had other prospective families she was considering. Failed because we were eventually rejected. If you don’t know anything about ICWA, it was an Act introduced in 1978 to protect and preserve the American Indian community. She was part American Indian, and to make a long story short, we were out of the game to find out later that the birthmother ended up parenting the child. Praise God for protecting us from that possible heartache.

For 2017, we considered and were likely not to renew our adoption certification/license which is up in June. Every year, we had to renew our certification by fulfilling  certain amount of hours of training, education, evaluation, and inspection. Yes, every year, we were reminded of failed adoption, of emptiness, of disappointments and were given a chance for self-evaluation. This time we decided that we would wait until June 2017.

All the while, I was emotionally detached. I gave myself until the end of 2016. I was ready to move on and was resolved to be content with the life we had.

On February 4, the day before my birthday, I went to a spa with my two best friends. We discussed my “doneness” in waiting. If I could recap my life in decades, I could say that I have waited for a child in my 30’s. My husband and I started planning for a family when I was 29, two years after our wedding. We began to wait for God to provide for a child and 3 years afterwards, I got pregnant through multiple attempts of IVF. A year after the son, we decided we would be ready for our next child. Two years passed and no result. We went back for more rounds of IVF and after a few procedures were told to seek other avenues to grow our family. We turned to adoption. This time we thought, “at least we’re sure to have a baby at the end of it all.” Or ARE WE? After patiently waiting our maximum projection of 24 months, still no child. Another 24 months of waiting after that, who are we kidding? So on that day, the day before I turned 40, I declared that I am finished waiting for a child. I am happy with my one son. I don’t want to wait anymore, and definitely not into my 40s.

On my birthday, I opened up to my husband about my “doneness.” He wasn’t done. He wasn’t where I was. We needed to be on the same page. So I told him I was willing to wait until June, but in the meantime, I have paved the way for my future. I have began looking into PhD programs. I started researching possible mentors. During a conference I attended, I even approached a mentor candidate and enquired about his availability. He was due to retire but he referred me to an equally capable colleague. I was moving on because emotionally, I was done waiting.

The point of indifference to my deep desire for this child could be best described by Matthew 5:3-4. “Blessed are those who are poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of God. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” When I gave up all hope, I looked to God as if to say “I no longer put my hope in this idea of a child. I give it up to you. I look to you instead to fill this void, of the deep longing for an idea. I mourned the loss of this idea and allowed God instead to bring comfort that even without this child, I could have peace and contentment.” 

On Tuesday, February 7, my husband called me at 9 am. While having my breakfast after returning from taking my son to school, I was annoyed. Normally I would get texts from him, but today, he called me. “What is it?” I enquired. “Are you sitting down? Do you have time to talk.” He asked. “Yes, I’m free. I’m just having breakfast and getting ready to do some work.” At this point, I was working in two different schools. UCI was my primary work and I’ve picked up a course to teach at the nearby college.

“I got a call from Suzanne (social worker’s name changed for privacy) and she says that we have a birthmom interested in us.”

“Are we the only candidates?”

“Yes, but she is early on in the pregnancy. She wants to meet us on February 23.”

“What?” It’s February 7.

Something about this match though that just sat in us, with peace. We have to wait 16 days before we meet her. Our last match was 48 hours. 16 days was a long time to wait, but we had peace.

“Tell me more about her.”

She sounded perfect. The situation was perfect. We could get to know the birthmother during her pregnancy and our son could understand where his brother came from. We could make plans for this child. We have time to prepare and nest. It was perfect, almost too perfect to be true.

To keep our minds busy, we went on a trip the weekend after Valentine’s Day – to San Francisco. There is something about having something to look forward to that gives you a sense of purpose, or sanity.

The day finally came. She was perfect. Down to earth. Intelligent. Tall. In great shape. Beautiful. Outgoing. Bubbly. Most importantly, we got on very well. Our conversations went smoothly, naturally. We hit it off. We made plans to see each other again in the next few weeks – Met her mother, her sister. Our son met her family and even said hello to the baby in the tummy. They came over to the house. It was great. And no, there is no but. It remains great.

In the next few weeks, we prepared. We had showers. We shopped. I decorated the nursery. We rearranged the room assignments. Everything was what they should be.

She invited me to come along with her for her next scan on May 4 (she was due May 8).

On May 4, I got a text in the morning from our birthmother indicating that her water broke. “Are you in the hospital?” I enquired.

“Should I be?”

“Yes, once your water breaks, you risk infection. So they’ll have to induce you if you are not in labor already.”

I went to work that day (upon our social worker’s instruction), though my thoughts were elsewhere. I arranged not to be back at work. I am going on my family leave as of May 5^th. We got home, had dinner, and tried to go to bed. At midnight, it was futile. We couldn’t sleep. We decided to just wait in the waiting room. She was pushing when we arrived. Her mother had put us on Facetime during the entire labor. We heard everything. Then after 5 hours, we heard a baby’s cry. It was OUR baby’s cry. Could it be? We were elated, and scared at the same time. We were invited in the room and there was our BOY! Perfect. Just perfect. We cried and he was handed over to us by his birthmother. She looked at us as if to say, here he is. And here. He. Is.

Next topics to come: Going on family leave, the paper process and navigating the adoption triad

We Are Certified !!

I apologize once again for being quiet in the last few months. We have been hosting visitors from Ireland in the last three months, which helped the time go by faster. I’ve also been busy at my new work.

If you are wondering about the paper work process, you need to ask Alan about it as he has patiently done most of it. He knows me very well indeed.

From my point of view, it has been a smooth sailing process. All I had to do was put my autograph at some designated lines then follow instructions from my man. You have an appointment for so and so on so and so. I did have to badger my boss about doing my employment letter and verification form, but she got it done in the end. It was a very flattering and gracious letter at that.

We had four face-to-face meetings with our social worker. The first was at their office. The questions were focused on our relationship. How did we get to the decision of adoption? Where are we at in the decision emotionally? How does god fall in our decision? The following week was at our house where she met with us individually. She asked us about our upbringing and personal faith. What sort of parenting style we grew up with? How did we come to know god as our personal savior? What sort of child we were and what kinds of challenges we had as adolescents. What were our fondest memories as children? On the following week, we drove back to her in the adoption office where she asked us about our relationship as a couple and about our family life. What do we do on weekends? What are our hobbies? How do we parent Sam? Finally, she came back to our house where she checked certain requirements a house needed to have. She looked for locked drawers (using the particular lock/brand recommended), baby gates, pool gate, baby seat and bed, and other safety features as such. She spent some time preparing us about what we might expect in the next few months in the waiting period. She also met Sam during which our darling little boy just charmed her and after which she announced our qualification for certification.

So where do we go from here? We wait. Our social worker gave us a projection of about 18-24 months. In the meantime, I am putting 10 portfolios together to show prospective mothers. The portfolios basically advertise us. The first two pages should summarize us as a couple/family then the rest are photos, which show the reason why we should be picked, why we qualify as parents.

I’m afraid the blog will be quiet once again for the next few months. Hopefully, my next blog would be news of our new baby.

The 8-hour seminar

First of all, I apologize for the long delay. This update is about two weeks overdue, but better late than never as they say.

Yes, it was long and draining but not without its rewards. Apparently, some of the 8 hours will go towards our 12-hour required seminar for certification. 

The seminar was with Bethany Christian Services. It’s a national adoption agency, one of the biggest in the U.S. The first hour of the seminar started with an introduction to the organization. The rest of the afternoon covered some of the legal aspects of adoption. At the end, the best part, was a panel where they had two couples who have previously adopted. The first couple is adopting their third child and the other had a more fresh memory. They also had an adoptee in the mix who had shed most light into our questions and uncertainties. I have noted some of the important points we learned below.

Agency: 

I was very happy to hear that the agency has rooted itself on Christian ethos. You know how many Christian universities don’t really live up to their names? Well, I’m glad to hear that Bethany Christian Services lives up to precisely what it advertizes. The agency offers well-rounded services including, but not limited to, pre and post counseling for the birth parent/s. Their priority is equally centered on the 3 parties involved, birthparents, the child, and the adoptive families.

Domestic V. International: 

We have suspected for sometime that international adoption is out of the question mainly because of the amount of time it takes to bring a child home but also because the child is most likely institutionalized prior to adoption for a few months or even years. We are now looking at infant adoption with Bethany, primarily in California but we are also open to other states.

Open V. Closed: 

After listening to a very articulate 18-year old adoptee, we are much more "open" to open adoption now. We can set the parameters of openness, but we do want some contact with the birth parents pre and post adoption. She was helpful in explaining that having contact with her birth parents was not only useful but also helpful in dealing with many of her life issues. She never wondered why her parents didn’t want her because they were able to explain to her the reason/s for her adoption. She never wondered why she was different because from birth, she knew she was different. She felt loved not only by one set of families, but two. Her testimony was pretty moving.

Two of the most powerful realizations I acquired from the seminar are the shift in power in adoption and the sacrifice from the birthparents/family's vantage point. Prior to the birth of the child, it is difficult for the adoptive parents because everything is very much out of their hands. The birth parents will also choose us, much like how we check boxes for our desired child. We will have to sell our family, letting her know that if she chose us, we can provide the best care and future for her child. But as soon as the child is born and the papers have been processed, the power shifts to us. She will have no rights to the child whatsoever and we dictate the amount of contact we want with her. I’ve never thought about this before. One of the reasons many families go abroad for adoption is its finality. The biological family will not be able to make contact after the child is taken home. I once feared the biological parents knocking at our door claiming our child back but now I can rest assured that the law is/will be on my side on this one. I’m not sure about laws in other countries/states, but in the state of California, once papers are signed by both parties are filed, its final. There will be a period of supervisory time (around 3-6 months), but it’s more to make sure that both parties (adoptive parents more than the child obviously) are happy with the arrangement.

In our society, adoption is hailed as something noble and special. Adoptive parents get all the glory while the birthparents suffer and get ostracized. What I haven’t realized before is the sacrifice birthparents make in putting up the child for adoption. Who becomes a wonderful blessing for us is a tremendous loss and sacrifice for them. As though that’s not enough, not only society but also more often than not, their own extended and close family repudiate them. As much as I bitch about the amount of paperwork I have to fill out, or the demeaning questions I have to answer, birthmothers probably have to fill out equal amount of paperwork and they have to disclose all the embarrassing and humiliating decisions she made in the past. Infant adoption shouldn’t be just about the adoptive families; it should also be about the birthparents making tough decisions. We are proud to go with Bethany which is more than capable of addressing and providing support, and quite rightfully so, in all areas.

We have sent $500 for the official application to be posted to us. The next few days/weeks will be about filling out yet more forms and collecting all necessary items. Wohoo!

We do want you to join us in praising God for providing abundantly. We have planned on taking out loans for the adoption (which will set us back around $24,000) but God has provided a better paid job for me. I am taken on as a part-time lecturer (still) at UCI (but different department, The Humanities). Two quarters (10-week), two courses each should cover most of what we need to finish off our home study which is the average time it takes for families from day one of filling in the formal application. Click the link for a sample home study checklist. 

Moving On...

I apologize for last post’s rather mellow-dramatic effect and perhaps a little TMI. I hope you were able to get through it without tears (wink, I won’t mention names). So aunt irma has come, 12 days late, but it came today in fact. We are coping. Sam has been our consolation. A friend adviced that perhaps I might have had a pregnancy but ended in miscarriage. Many women go through it without noticing because it (the miscarriage) happens so early in the cyle that many just mistake it as 'late' period.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

-Jeremiah 29:11-13

In my quiet times, my mind constantly returns to these verses. What a comfort it is to know that we serve a God who only desires good things for us. I believe this, for us, and for all who love the Lord.

I know it sounds so cliché but these times have been very good for us as a family. While many families might have been broken due to infertility, I feel it has glued us together as a family even more. No, it wouldn’t be so bad if Sam were our only child. I think we are grappling the idea that God, too, will take care of Sam and his needs, the only child or not. We've known this all along, or course, but knowing it and believing it are two different things.

This is not to say that we are no longer going through adoption. We are simply processing through many thoughts prior to our adopting which may have a big impact later. And as you can see, plenty of issues and emotions have already been had in this adoption process. The encouraging thing for me is that as I read through my adoption book, many of the possible issues it suggests for us to think about have already come about prior to reading them (most of which were mentioned in As the Mourning Yields to the Daylight). I feel God is before us paving the way. Indeed, God is an awesome God.

We don’t think we are ready to move on with the adoption just yet but here are some of the developments in the process. While we may not care for the child’s sex, Sam has consistently said he prefers a baby sister. We have ruled out international adoption primarily due to the wait imposed on the countries in which we are interested. We want to go with a Christian agency probably with Bethany. Their first available orientation for inquiring families is in March, which we plan on attending.

One BIG question we have: with open adoption, is it going to be an issue if there is a possibility of a move to Ireland later in the future?

Another Ride

I would like to first thank you for all your encouraging words. We feel blessed to be surrounded by wonderful friends.

In my last post, I raved about the freedom of moving on. This week, I’ve had another roller coaster ride, a whirlwind of sort.

Well, As aunt irma hasn’t come around to visit (well, not really), I’d taken a (few) home pregnancy test(s). Has god finally heard the cries of my heart? Could he, in fact, want us to have a second child of our own?

To make a very long story short, this morning, I got a positive PT. I fell on my knees in disbelief sobbing like a toddler whose candy has just been taken away from him (sounds like someone I know). I took a picture of it on my phone to send to Alan. The shock in him! He didn’t know what to say and even didn’t know what it meant. I called my OB to make an appointment. It was just too, too good to be true. The OB said that they don’t need to see me until mid February, or late February rather. Are you mad?! I told them that I needed to see the doctor and after telling them my story, they agreed that they needed to see me…in an hour. Since I’ve lived a life of luxury this month (meaning I haven’t been able to get out of my pajamas until around 10 am – no haters please), I had to rush out. They wanted me in by 10 am.

Alan and I came in. We had a scan, no sac. But she poked around a whole lot anyway and took a few snapshots and some measurements.

After waiting for what felt like a million hours, the doctor finally came in to discuss my situation. She was pretty positive as my linings looked pretty good, but that she’d order a blood test just in case I need supplementing. Gosh, we were pretty knackered by this point, still not letting ourselves excited about the whole thing. I don’t really have any symptoms except maybe for being a basket case about it, letting tears out occasionally; I cried in the car, in the bathroom, in the garage, anywhere really where I felt no one was looking. The doctor was very empathetic and sympathetic that she’d rushed my results informing me that I’ll get a call from her later this afternoon. Before we said our goodbyes, she checked whether we had progesterone at home, should she give us prescription for pills… No doctor, we have vials of them. Anything to do with fertility, we have. We haven’t had the heart to get rid of them yet hoping that they’d turn back into cash. Nothing more than what we’d paid.

After waiting for another million years (I tell you, my hair might have turned grey by the time I got the phone call), finally, at 5.15 pm, my phone rang. We skipped all the pleasantries and she went right to it. 

“It’s negative honey, I’m sorry.”

What can I say? What should I say? A whirlpool of emotions and words had gone through my head. One strongest one was, “Why the hell would god want to play with my emotion like this?” Then I immediately remembered that Alan also knows about it and he’d probably not been able to do a thing at work the entire day. I felt so bad for telling him about it, giving him hope only for me to take it back.

Yes, I felt anger…towards god for playing with my emotions…towards me for letting myself go through this again after all that I’ve been through…towards the PT company for creating such inaccurate device (it isn’t really, but I need to be angry at someone or something). I’m confused and disappointed. I don’t understand what god is doing and I’m feeling defeated.

As the Mourning Yields to the Daylight

I have to admit, there’s a sense of freedom in finally deciding to adopt. No more wondering whether I should order a glass of wine with my dinner; no more half giving up coffee; no more having two minds about getting into the Jacuzzi or the bath. I don’t have to wonder anymore whether or not I should get my period. No more taking a home test kit just in case my lightheadedness or tiredness is due to eventual pregnancy and consequently, no more disappointments after the first sign of my menstruation. Then remaining hopeful that maybe it’s just the slight bleeding from implantation like I had before (I had a slight bleeding for 5 days before I found out that I was pregnant with Sam) until the actual period comes. Yes, I’m finally free!! No more monthly roller coaster I seem to have been on for 6 years. The downside now is figuring out the next few weeks, months or even years of waiting and knowing how to respond to well-wishers.

Today after church, a couple from our community group asked us how the IVF turned out. At the end of the conversation, I caught myself saying, “Thank you for asking.” and Alan agreeing unequivocally grateful for the question. They’re the first ones to ask outside our family and a few of my confidants. I know it must be difficult to know what to say, what to ask or how to ask in situations like ours unless one has been in the same or similar circumstance. Know this though, asking or saying something is better than avoiding it like a disease. It’s actually more hurtful not to say anything. I know I’m Asian but I’m not very good at the Asian way either. You know, going around the subject. I know exactly where they want to go, but they keep going around the bush hoping that I’d catch on and bring up the subject myself because god forbid if they asked, they’d hurt my feelings. If we have confided in you, you have the right to ask.

So how should you ask: Now that you know that our IVF attempts have gone nowhere you no longer have to ask. But should you find yourself in the same situation again, here are a few pointers. First, don’t ask a couple who have been married for years when are they going to have children (unless you are close friends). Stay clear, you never know what the situation is. Don’t wave a baby in their faces saying, “see, you could already have one of these.” (I swear, someone did this to Alan and me. The lady had already been taunting us about getting pregnant for years, constantly asking us why we’re not having children yet, claiming that if we waited too long, it’d be too late. At a dinner party one night, she took one of her grandbabies, waving it in front of Alan and me claiming that it would be wonderful to have one of those. No, she is not family. No she is not a close friend. No, she had no business. Up to this day, I still could not be in the same room as that person). If you know they can’t pregnant, don’t hide your own pregnancy from them thinking that it might make them feel bad. Infertility is not something we wish on others and for pig’s sake, we CAN be happy for you. But don’t overdo it by talking about how bad your pregnancy is or how fat you look. Honestly, I really enjoyed being fat. If your friends are going through IVF and they had confided in you, count yourself both blessed and responsible. It is now your responsibility to follow up. “How did your treatments go?” is a start. “How has the medications been affecting you.” “Who’s administering the shots?” And for pig’s sake, don’t just ask, “HOW ARE YOU?” knowing exactly what you want to know. Infertility or IVF is not Voldemort, mention his name and all his wizards would come after you. When the answer is negative, just say, “I’m sorry.” No really, that’s all you have to say and rest in the discomfort of the silence. Don’t say more.

I know that it’s human nature to say something encouraging. These phrases are not in themselves bad, but to me, they are actually more hurtful.

“Don’t give up. Keep trying.” – yes, if I had a hundred dollars every time I heard those words, we could probably afford adoption by now. “Don’t give up.” All I heard there is “give up.” I may have realized my limitations, and so did my fertility doctor, but I am not defeated. So you know, we have not given up.

“Keep praying, god will provide.” – Now, this is a tricky one. Like I said, they are not bad phrases at all, but my problem with this one is that more often than not, God provides in a much different way than what we have envisioned in our prayers. So what if I didn’t get pregnant? Does that mean God does not love me, and therefore did not provide? Does that mean that I had no faith? Does it mean that I hadn't prayed enough? I can’t take this against my well-wishers and this reaction probably reflect my insecurities more than anything else, nevertheless…

“You can always adopt.” – I can always adopt? Just like that, my problem fixed. I can always adopt. First of all, it’s no that easy. Adoption is not that easy. Secondly, adoption is not a backup. It is not a second rate. For me, we are adopting because we feel called. Sometimes, when we want something so bad and god is not providing in a way we want him to, we step back and ask god for vision and clarification. Our desire to have another child is still there. There are other ways to have a child. To us, adoption is where we feel god is leading us. There’s a big difference and it is an important difference.

“Have you tried…” – Yes, we’ve heard it all and tried it all. Acupuncture, massage, yoga, getting drank (not quite tried having sex in the back of the car or in a room next to mom’s though). Advising them only suggests that we don’t know anything about the very thing we are suffering, neither do our fertility specialist, acupuncturist, endocrinologist, gynecologist,…

“My sister couldn’t have children…then she finally got pregnant.” Not helping. Just shot up and be quiet.

Now you’re thinking, “geez this is so difficult. I’d rather just stay away hoping that we don’t come across people who can’t have children” Yes, it is difficult and yes, that is why more often than not, we feel so alone. The stigma of infertility in this society is so potent (as it was in King Henry VIII's time), its no wonder we keep it to ourselves. I've had those super fertile women who are so patronizing in their tones as though being infertile means being inferior to them. Thank god I don't think that. No, the most difficult part of it all is that infertility is a type of loss that is never really recognized. When someone dies, we have funerals to mourn the loss. When couples get a divorce, there’s a document that separates their properties, a document that finalizes their marriage. “Many significant beginnings and ending in our lives are marked by rituals that publicly mark the transition and invite the support- either in celebration or in mourning – of others.” Said Patricia Irwin Johnson in Adopting after Intertility. What about infertility? At what point do we mourn? What marks this loss, end of hope, end of dream, end of a desire, end of something I can't quite quantify? What’s worse for us is that we have Sam. So technically, we can’t even claim to be one of them, infertile. 

But take heart, that is why I’m writing this.