This is the story of my husband and I, our journey though the adoption process. I am 26 and he (T) is 27, I am a primary school teacher and T currently works in an office. We live in Germany working with the British army which makes things much more complicated.
So why adoption and not your own children?
People seem to think that they can ask this question all of the time. I find myself having to bite my tongue, what does it matter to them?! But if they really want to know I tell them the whole ugly story of our journey through infertility and the decisions we have made. I then find my self having to explain the adoption process as not many people actually know anything about it. We may not be the birth parents but we will be their real parents.
My husband and I met each other at university I was a 2nd year helping him and his friends move in. A year later at the start of my final year we were both a major part of the SU and our friendship quickly blossomed. We knew straight away we wanted to be with each other for ever, a year later we were engaged, 2 years after becomming boyfriend and girlfriend we were married. Whilst we were engaged and planning our wedding we were living apart in different countries, this was very difficult for us but it meant we made the most of the time we had together.
We decided we wanted to have children early on so during the Easter holidays I had my implant removed ready, we began trying straight away but didn’t expect anything due to just having the implant removed. A year later and still no sign of a positive pregnancy test I went to the dr, he organised some tests and referred me to the hospital for even more tests. We still thought it would happen any second.
Lots of investigations and still no sign of a pregnancy. The drs at the hospital couldn’t explain why I wasn’t getting pregnant. They decided I should try clomid, so for 3 months I took this tablet that turned me into a demonic person. Still nothing. They then decided I should have iui, so now even more drs got to see EVERYTHING! Still nothing. The hospital said the only thing I could try now was ivf but they didn’t fund that so we would have to go private. We did.
We we found a lovely private dr that spoke English and was prepared to treat us, he suggested ICSI rather than IVF as we would have a greater chance. We poured money into the clinic for appointments and drugs. We missed my sister in laws wedding because the weather was horrendous and I had a very important scan the Monday after that I couldn’t miss if flights were cancelled. But on February 14th 2013 we found out what I dreaded hearing, the ICSI had been unsuccessful. We were heart broken and skint. The clinic offered us another chance at a reduced rate as I hadn’t reacted in quite the way they expected. However, we always said we would only try IVF once- and that was all we could afford. Over 7000 euros spent and nothing but heartache to show for it.
I contacted our adoption agency straight away, they gave me some information, books to read and told me if we were still interested to get back in touch in a year. We had to get over the failed ivf first, to begin with I thought this was silly but a few months later it hit me. I was struggling to cope with the fact I would never have biological children. My fantastic husband and friends rallied around me and eventually persuaded me to go to the dr. I wanted counselling rather than more drugs as felt that the hormones I’d pumped into me over the past years were partly to blame. I wasn’t suicidle so therefore wasn’t depressed enough to see anyone else but I could have antidepressants. I declined and looked else where for counselling. On the advise of my lovely mum I went to see a relate counsellor to see if they could help they agreed to see me even though this wasn’t their usual expertise. The first session went well but then he said I had to take my husband to the 2nd session, fine I thought. The 2nd session seemed very different, the counsellor seemed to revert to his usual sessions and blamed everything on our relationship. We persevered and went to one more session but after that we decided it was creating more problems than solving them. I was still feeling depressed so built up the courage to go back to the drs, here I saw a different AMAZING dr who tried to get me referred for counselling but there just weren’t the resources available. She persuaded me to try mild antidepressants and promised to see me weekly to keep an eye on me. Within a month I was already feeling happier, within 3 months I felt like my normal self. The amazing dr left but suggested I stay on them for a bit longer. By now it was September and I decided to stop the tablets. I had had the time and support to grieve for the child I would never carry and was now feeling excited for the future adoption would bring.