Every story starts with Chapter One

This blog is dedicated to our story of finding Red Fisch. :) (Read blog #1 for that story!)  But our story did not begin with this search. Our story began 10 months ago, when we found out we were pregnant for the first time. It was early December 2009 when we found out and we were very excited! We had not been trying for very long and felt kind of proud of ourselves. We told only a few select people and planned big surprises for the soon-to-be grandparents on Christmas morning. We bought t-shirts that said "Proud to be Grandma/Grandpa" and wrapped them up for our parents to open as a surprise.

          In early, January, two weeks after telling the grandparents and three days after announcing it to our friends (great time, huh?), we discovered that the baby was measuring small for its gestational age and the doctor was concerned. That is NOT what you want to hear at your very first ultrasound appointment! 

         The doctor, as unhappy as I was about it, was right. The baby was small because it was not going to make it. Two weeks after that first appointment, I miscarried. It was so sad for us, such a shock, such heartache that we didn’t know we could feel. Trying to convey the feelings that surfaced during that time would be impossible. So I won’t try. J

        Five weeks later, and a HUGE surprise to us….umm, we were a BIT naïve…I found out I was pregnant again. For me, there wasn’t much happiness in this pregnancy. I was more worried and anxious, then excited and happy. I had read the statistics and heard the encouragements from doctors and family, but every twinge, every hour without a symptom was just another thing for me to fret over. At 9 weeks, the fretting ended because the pregnancy ended. I was two for two. There isn’t much doctors do for you yet at two miscarriages. Some blood work, extra ultrasounds, but not much else.

         It was at this time that I brought up adoption to Carlie for the first time. I realize that many women work for years and years to have their own baby. But after two miscarriages, two D&Cs, countless blood tests, over 10 ultrasounds, and more visits to my doctor than I can count I already knew that I was not interested in the tests and procedures that might be necessary to get me pregnant and KEEP me pregnant. I just want to be a mom. I want Carlie to be a dad. And at this point, I already knew that having a baby, loving a baby, sharing that experience with Carlie was more important to me than carrying my own child in my belly.

          BUT….I was not ready to give up. Doctors could not identify anything wrong with me so we agreed to try again. In July of that same year, we found out we were pregnant again. (Kind of relieved to know that three pregnancies in one year meant GETTING pregnant was not going to be a problem for us!) Unfortunately, on August 16^th, I had my third miscarriage. Quotes such as “third times a charm” and “strike 3!” will have a new meaning for me from now on. But this third miscarriage was not all sadness and despair for Carlie and I. Three miscarriages in less than a year was enough to convince us that we were ready to do some research on domestic adoption and find out what it would entail. 

            I’m a reader and so the first thing I did was buy a book on adoption. I wanted to know about the process. Who should I call? How do I know what to ask? It was all foreign to us. We don’t know anyone close to us who has adopted and so were on our own to learn the ins and outs of such a huge decision. After many reading many chapters in my book, sites on the internet, inquiring phone calls, and conversations with friends we found ourselves sitting in Dr. Hope Heller’s office. And the journey began…