After a BFN

Our biggest BFN had come conveniently on our wedding anniversary, the week prior to Mother's Day.  Really won the lotto on that one.  Over the next few days, there were sweet and gentle words from our family,  friends, and several colleagues who knew of our struggles.  I had a day off work several days following our BFN, and allowed myself some wallow time, which consisted of lounging in pajamas until the middle of the day, and turning to staple distraction shows such as House Hunters and the Nate Berkus Show. My day of self-pity was rudely interrupted when the Ellen Show came on, and in honor of Mother's Day, the entire studio audience was pregnant women.  The camera panned the audience of glowing mothers-to-be, those women who had so much to look forward to, such happiness awaiting them.   Ellen started into the audience in her suit and sneakers.  Come on, Ellen, REALLY?  Total disappointment.  My day of wallowing turned out to be not quite what I needed.  What I did need was the next plan.

My biggest fear at that time was that we would fail out of IVF and have nowhere to go.  Amazingly, that weekend a seminar called "A Family of My Own" was going on in D.C.  It was an overview of options for individuals and couples dealing with infertility: IUI, IVF, egg donor, adoption of all sorts.  The hubs and I signed up.  Upon hearing about it, my mom insisted she and my step-dad come along for moral support.  Bless them.  My poor step-dad was probably thinking "son of a bitch," but he arrived pen and paper in hand, and the four of us were actually quite a team.  If my mom and I went to a seminar on, say, nutrition and infertility, the hubs and my step-dad would sit in and take notes on financing adoption. 

We learned that international adoption wasn't really a viable option as we'd hoped: very expensive, long wait times.  When I thought of adoption previously, I'd imagined myself flying to China or Ethiopia to pick up my child in a dusty orphanage.  But the thing about international adoption, besides the wait and expense, is also the restrictions.  Over 38?  Sorry, you're out.  Only married for four years?  Out.  Not Catholic?  Forget about it.  Hmmm...skip to the domestic adoption seminar.

I'd never considered going through private domestic adoption, doing things like putting ads in the Penny Saver, a la the 2007 indie hit "Juno."  But suddenly, it seemed like a possibility.  We met couples who were just like us, who failed out of IVF and had to move on.  They chose domestic private adoption because it afforded them a little more control over the situation, and it was less costly on average than an agency adoption.  I cried during their testimonials.  Suddenly I was in love with the idea of adoption.  It worked.  Ovarian function could be horrid--you could adopt!  Uterine lining could be paper thin--you could adopt!  You could be 35 and married for 3 years--you could adopt!  It seemed right to me. 

That same day, the hubs and I signed up for a private domestic adoption workshop scheduled the following weekend.  We had a "Plan B" in place, even if it was really more of a "Plan T."