I had a 1% chance of getting pregnant on my own, slightly higher with various fertility treatments. But still, my best chance was only about 12%. After many conversations, sometime arguments, with my husband, we decided adoption was the route we were going to pursue on our journey to grow our family. Eleven months ago, we adopted a beautiful baby boy who, with his older brother (my stepson), has become our entire world. Four months ago I found out I was pregnant (Surprise!). Three months ago I lost the baby to miscarriage. Four months, and I’m still grieving, but without my son, I know my grief would have been nearly insurmountable.

When you are physically taking care of a baby, it’s hard to keep the focus solely on yourself. He has basic physical needs that have to be met—eating, changing his diaper/clothes, bathing, playing, etc. And sometimes Mommy is the only one who can make something better. I am blessed with a wonderful family, and I was lucky enough to stay with my parents who helped with Vincent when I physically couldn’t, but since I was home from work recovering mentally and physically, many of the responsibilities of taking care of my son fell on me. It’s hard to focus entirely on yourself when you have a precious little face smiling up at you, beckoning you to chase him around the house or giving you one of his signature 3 -second hugs before he’s off again being a busy baby boy. Being home and taking care of him was a blessing because I couldn’t spend too much time feeling sad; someone needed me.

Adoption also helped me cope because, I imagine, if I had gotten pregnant before adopting Vincent, I’m not sure adoption would have been the next road we travelled down, certainly not
IMG_9666early enough to be blessed with our baby boy. And I can’t imagine my life as anyone else’s mom. I truly believe Vincent was always supposed to be my son. While grieving the loss of the child I was carrying, I had to say a little thank you to God (in between the many questions of “why?” and lots and lots of anger and depression) for not allowing me to become pregnant before adopting. Because Vincent is the greatest thing to ever happen to me, and I wouldn’t give up being his mom for anything.

I am still devastated to have lost a baby to my miscarriage, but I am ever grateful and lucky to have an amazing boy to raise and watch grow. If he wasn’t around, I’m not sure what would have been my motivation to get out of bed every morning these past four months. If he wasn’t around, I don’t know when my smile would have returned.  If he wasn’t around, I don’t think I’d have believed being a mom would ever be a possibility, let alone the greatest task of my life. If he wasn’t around, my hope and faith might be lost.

But, because of Vincent and because of the beauty of adoption, I have both hope and faith. Maybe not hope of another pregnancy, but faith that my life is going in the right direction and faith in knowing how blessed my life is by one small human being. Because of adoption, infertility and miscarriage aren’t a death sentence, but simply a bump in the road, a detour, if you will, leading down the path I was supposed to take all along.