“Why don’t you just adopt?” As a couple experiencing infertility, that statement was one we heard more than once by well-meaning others. Oh, if only other people knew it simply isn’t that easy. 

My story begins seven years ago when my husband and I got married. We got married at the ripe age of 28, so we didn’t want to wait to start our family. We are Catholic and knew that our honeymoon could bring about a new life – and we were both excited about that possibility. Having had several friends get married and find out they were pregnant either shortly after their honeymoon or within the first year of their marriage, I assumed our story would look somewhat similar. 

What a blow when month after month that first year went by without a positive pregnancy test. I was charting my cycle, so I was intimately aware of what my body “should” be doing, and frustrated that none of my hopes for a baby were coming to fruition.  We decided within that first year to start digging into why we hadn’t been able to conceive. Thus began a five year long journey that included copious tests, procedures, supplements, shots, a diet change, a major surgery, and heartache. I was acutely aware of my cycle, so each month would begin with hope but by the end of the month, I would be devastated once again. This emotional cycle was honestly harder than the physical treatments. It became even more frustrating when doctors (Napro included) would say that everything on paper was fine (in other words, our infertility was unexplained), so they didn’t understand why conception wasn’t happening. Needless to say, we were defeated, grieving, and angry about our situation. 

It was about five years in that I started to notice that I, in particular, was becoming an angry, cynical, and frustrated person who was losing herself in the continual cyclical nature and reality of infertility. After speaking and praying with my husband, we discerned that stopping all treatments was ultimately necessary for me to regain my mental health and to find joy again in our reality and in our marriage. I was so consumed by the charting and the treatments and the why-is-this-happening-to-us-God that I had lost any semblance of contentment and peace. After coming to the decision to stop treatments, I spoke with my primary doctor and told her I needed to stop all treatments as well as charting for the foreseeable future. She was gratefully supportive, so for the past couple of years, I have been resurfacing from the depths of my own rock bottom. 

I recently heard somewhere that Jesus is what we land on when we hit rock bottom, since He Himself is the Rock. What a beautiful image and truth, especially in light of my own experience. I knew that in order to find peace and contentment again I would need to allow myself to fully grieve our infertility, and I would need to focus on gratitude. What could I be thankful for now that would help me come to terms with, and even appreciate, or at least accept, my circumstances? 

Through much prayer, counseling, and support from my husband and other friends and family, I have been able to grieve our situation, and it is with immense gratitude and grace that I have been able to accept and even start to see the good from it.Thus, while adoption is by no means a second best option or even a substitute for biological children, my husband and I did start to discern if that was what we were being called to, especially because we both felt the call to be parents so strongly and clearly biological children were not forthcoming. Despite what people mean when they ask why a couple doesn’t “just adopt,” the two situations are not interchangeable. Some people with infertility are in fact called to adoption while others aren’t, and the reality of adoption is not some simple fix for couples who experience infertility anyway. We’re talking here about a child, not a commodity. 

I remember speaking with a dear friend early in our discernment process, who at that time had already gone through the adoption process, telling me that we needed to fully grieve our infertility before adopting because adoption doesn’t make the ache go away. At first I thought that couldn’t be right, since having a child would be the outcome – but she was, in fact, correct. Adoption is not a magic eraser that takes away the sting of infertility. In fact, adoption is chock full of its own hardships, sadnesses, and losses. Having fully grieved our infertility and discerned that adoption was a road we wanted to walk down, however, we began the journey. 

One of the hardest parts of being an adoptive family is the waiting. The birth mother has full control over all decisions until the paperwork is signed and the baby is in the adoptive family’s custody. While this is right and just, it is still hard! I once heard the analogy that the adoptive family feels like they are on the outside of the viewing window and the birth mom and baby are on the inside before the birth. Once the baby is born, the roles are reversed, and the birth mom feels on the outside. This is a striking image because it highlights the loss and the hardship of adoption. When adoption is done ethically and open relationships are built among the triad (birth family, adoptive family, adoptee), it can be (and often is) beautiful; however, the reality remains that adoption begins with loss. 

Because the realities of infertility and adoption can be heavy, my husband and I realized the importance of remaining grateful amidst our seasons of waiting to become parents – both the season when we were in treatment hoping for biological children and the season of waiting for our son, whom we gained through adoption. We actively looked for parts of our lived experience we could be grateful for. We also tried to be grateful and content with our life at the moment instead of constantly looking forward to what we didn’t have. Another thing that helped us in the waiting was to find hobbies and activities (both together and separately) that we enjoyed and could spend time on. Having a purpose outside of ourselves was incredibly important in our ability to find contentment and peace. 

Both realities – infertility and adoption – are replete with uncertainty and often long periods of waiting. In some respects, the waiting and uncertainty we experience with infertility prepared us for the uncertainty and waiting we’d experience as a waiting adoptive family. We are incredibly grateful for the gift of our son, brought to us through adoption, and the truth is that if we had been able to have biological children, we most likely wouldn’t have met him. However, God works in mysterious ways, and when we stay close to him and to one another as spouses, we can trust the movements of the Holy Spirit, enjoy the life right in front of us, and acknowledge the pain when and as it comes. Jesus never leaves us alone when we hit rock bottom. Instead, He is there to cushion our landing and help us find our way back to a full and vibrant life. 

Merideth Ochs is a wife and mother seeking the true, good, and beautiful. She loves coffee and books. You can find more of Merideth’s writing on her Substack: https://mannafromthesky.substack.com/.

photo credit: Elissa Voss; used with permission