The road less traveled

When I was 29 I decided that I would be a mother. Actually, that may not be true. I think it is more accurate to say that there was never a time in my life that I didn't want to be a mother. However, I was 29 when I decided it was time to make a plan.

I remember being at work in college and having a random conversation with a co-worker. Lots of my friends were getting engaged and planning weddings for after graduation. I just casually said that I didn't think I would ever get married. I don't recall have a conscious thought about it before but once I said it, I believed it. And then I was asked about children. Oh, I would be a mother. I was sure of it. It never occurred to me that one had to be connected to the other.

So when I was 29 I decided it was time to make a plan. I wanted to adopt. I preferred to adopt. I never had a desire to have a little mini me running around. But more importantly, the idea of giving birth just didn't work for me. But when I looked at the process of adoption I ran into road blocks. I lived in a one bedroom loft. I worked nights and weekends. How was I going to get someone to agree to hand over a kid to me?

So I decided to start looking at artificial insemination. How hard could it be? Contact a cryogenic center (sperm bank), order a "popcicle", and have it inserted. Nine months later would get me a baby. Right? And it was going to be cheap since it would be covered by insurance (I use to have fabulous insurance -- now it sucks). Oh yeah, that whole birth thing. I would opt for a c-section. Well, that was until I talked to a friend who had one. Okay, the kid was staying in. Or at least I would go under that assumption until I got pregnant -- and it was not longer an option to give birth.

I went to the doctor. I told her what I wanted. "Oh, lets not rush things. Let's work on you getting a date first." I don't recall asking her permission. I asked her to help me get pregnant -- not make the decision for me. So I went to another doctor. She was fine with the idea. Until she took a medical history. She thought I might have fertility issues. She knows that from a history??? Well, she was right. But I tried anyway. Long story short -- I never got pregnant. And then I lost my insurance. And I decided it would be better to adopt.

I did the home study (another long story short). I did the research. First the type of adoption, then the country of choice, then the agency to use. I collected and submitted the paperwork. I waited for things to progress. I had moved close to family. I had changed careers. I did everything I could to make this happen. It was out of my control.

On June 29, 2006 at 3:36 am my alarm rang. I reached over without really waking up and turned it off. And it rang again. Wait??? Alarms don't ring. Oh it is the phone. At 3:36am? What year is this? Am I on-call? Wait, I don't work at a job that requires me to be on-call. The phone rang again. It really is the phone. I look at the glowing green caller ID. Do I know this number? Who would call me at 3:36am? The agency! The agency is calling! I answer. And I became a mom. I had a daughter. My agency knew her birthday and that was it (and it took me the better part of 4 hours to figure out how old she was based on her birthday -- I am not a morning person). I would wait 30 more hours before I learned her name and her details. And I would end up waiting 2 more months before I got to hold her for the first time. But 4 years ago today we became a family.

Ladybug, I love you. You are the love of my life. My sweet pea. My everything. You changed my life. And I couldn't be happier.

Mean Mama