Genetic Family

D and I adopted embryos a couple of years ago.  We did this twice.  The first time, we adopted two embryos.  One survived the thaw and was transferred, but did not result in a pregnancy.  The second time, we adopted six.  That time, we navigated a much more open relationship at the request of the donors.

As we got to know them, we learned that their fertility journey was far from easy.  After several years of surgeries, miscarriages and IVFs, they managed to build their family through adoption and surrogacy. Afterwards, they surprisingly found themselves in the position of having embryos that needed a loving home.  

They were much more comfortable with the idea of openness, after having experiences with an open adoption with one of their children.  We weren't as comfortable, so we navigated and negotiated cautiously. 

We spent time working out what our relationship was going to be.  We talked about parenting, and contact, and relationships with siblings.   We found ourselves moving from referring to them as the genetic donors of our embryos to their genetic family.   We opened our hearts, and our lives and hoped that we were doing the right thing. 

When I became pregnant with twins as a result of the last embryo transfer, they shared our excitement and joy.   When I found out I was miscarrying, they wept with us.   Afterwards, we stayed in touch.   We even visited them a couple of months after our miscarriage while on vacation near their home.  

When I think of the special and unique relationships in my life, theirs is definitely one of my most cherished.   Not only did they give us the greatest gift that anyone could have given us with their six beautiful embryos, but they gently offered us a hand and a hug to help us through the rest of our journey. 

They are the ones that made me really realize that taking the risk for openness is worth it.  That support along this journey is vitally important.   She has called me after hearing our bad news and cried with me, when I'm sure everyone else was scared to call, fearing they didn't know what to say. 

I'm crying right now as write this and I think of them.  They are some of the most beautiful, strong, generous, kind hearted people I've ever met.  I'm so tremendously glad that our paths have crossed. 

Recently, they did something else that really warmed my heart.  It was so beautifully sweet.  So thoughtful.  So kind. 

They participated in Resolve's Walk of Hope.  They did so to remember their own infertility journey and to support others in their journey.  They wore custom made t-shirts outlining key parts of their journey.  Her shirt said, "I'm infertile", and his saying "I'm a loving and supportive husband".   In a picture I saw, she was wearing it with her head held high with her children by her side.  I can't imagine how emotional it must have been for them to have participated in that walk after having been through so much and now be on the other side. 

With our permission, they each also wore a pin in our honour.  It was a picture of me and D from when we visited them last spring.   

I guess sometimes there are blessings in all of this infertile mess.   

Waiting for the phone call

They were introduced to us by the social worker who completed our home study.  She asked for permission to pass along our names to another couple navigating the waters of embryo adoption.   We had been her first couple dealing with embryo adoption, and they were her second.  We happily obliged.  

The couple contacted us, and we shared a meal at a restaurant.  They are the kind of people that you meet and instantly like right away.  Down to earth, kind, and funny.  She's a mix of country and the big city.  He's all country.  They are kind of couple that you know would make fantastic parents.  

We shared with them our journey that led to working with the Snowflakes program through the Nightlight Christian Adoption Agency.  They too had selected the same agency.  It was nice to be face to face with another couple navigating the same process.  I day dreamed about us both having children who played together. 

We've been keeping in touch for the last couple years mostly over the phone and by email.  However, last year around Christmas, we lost touch.  They had announced they were pregnant via their first embryo adoption procedure only a few months before.  We were in the midst of the early stages of our first pregnancy, and then quickly experienced the loss of our twins.  

In truth, I just didn't feel that I had anything to really say to them.  I felt like they would be able to see through my facade and I didn't want to be a downer on their happiness.  Besides she had gotten pregnant on their first try with donor embryos.  I wondered if she would even be able to relate.  

Early in the new year, they reached out to us with an email announcing the birth of their daughter.  The email included pictures of a beautiful teensy tiny baby girl, and a brief story about her caesarian birth at 21 weeks, and her passing 10 days later.  We were absolutely heart broken for them.  I remember getting the news and sitting on the couch crying with D. 

We reached out to them, sending our condolences and a gift in memory of their daughter.  

A couple of months later, they visited us and we tried to comfort them as they shed tears about the death of their daughter, and a due date passing.  If I could have done anything to help ease their pain I would have.  It was just so palpable. 

A couple of months ago they were matched with another family, and had their third FET procedure.  The day of their daughter's birth came and went.  I sent an email to her to tell her that I was thinking of them.  

She reached back just the other day.  She said they are moving and she would love to talk with me soon.  Her emails had a hint of joy.  She suggested we talk within the next few days.  

I thought this was a little strange, because if I was moving the last thing I would be doing is having long conversations with friends.  And that's the kind we usually have, somehow they always end up being 1-2 hours on the phone.  We spent all afternoon in a restaurant once.  It always seems that we have so much in common and so much to say. 

I have this feeling though that she's going to tell me she's expecting.  My five years of IF have helped me to develop a keen sense of 'preg-dar', radar for preggos.   

I've been practicing my "happy reaction" to their news in my head.  

Gosh. I wouldn't wish this journey on anyone, and especially not them.  Yet, I can't help to feel a little bit sad.  Another one of my few real life IF friends is no longer going to be in the battle.  It's a reminder that makes me feel like we've been left in the dust again.   

Finding friendship in unexpected places

Part of our IF journey has included adopting embryos.  This week, I am reminded of this part of our journey because we recently visited with the woman from whom we adopted embryos.

We learned about open adoption during our home-study process.  We felt that it would be best for our children if they had access to their genetic family.  We felt in our hearts that people aren’t limited in the loving relationships they can have.  We took a leap of faith and trusted that the children would benefit from an honest and open explanation around the loving way they came into the world.  We wanted them to be able to have their questions answered by their genetic family if and when the time arose.

From a parenting perspective, we felt that it would be easier on us not to do this.  We personally did not want any connection with the genetic family, other than to express our gratefulness to them for the gift they gave to us.  We felt our lives would be easier if we didn’t have to “manage” a relationship with them.   Or, so I thought.

Two years ago, we were chosen to adopt their 6 embryos.  They wanted to meet with us in person before finalizing our match.  The couple traveled four hours by plane with their biological daughter.  We spent a weekend together that coincidentally fell on statutory holiday called “Family Day” in the province that we live.  

I stressed like I have never done before in preparing for their visit.  Stressed as in clean-every-closet-and-redo-the-spare-bedroom-including-the-paint kind of stress.  I had many freakouts on my husband and had insomnia every night.  It was an anxious person’s worst nightmare, to host the couple that held your dreams in their hand.  

They came, and were gracious guests.  They came to church with us and we showed them around our city.  They told us that they enjoyed their time in our home.  At the end of our time together, she cried when she told us that they wanted to give their embryos to us.  They said never expected to be in a position to help another couple with infertility, but they wanted to pay it forward.  They had a child from adoption and one from surrogacy and had received a lot of help in building their beautiful family.

We were happy and excited that they chose us.   It was the second time we had been matched with a donor couple.  The first had not wanted any contact with us.  So this was a very different experience for us. 

A lot has happened in the two years since they chose us as their match.   We were fortunate that all six of the embryos survived the thaw, and we transferred them two at a time.  The final two resulted in a twin pregnancy, which sadly ended at 8 weeks. 

Finding out we were pregnant was a wonderful time that didn’t last nearly long enough.  The fact that I was pregnant made the embryo adoption process feel “real” to us in a way that it didn’t previously.  One of my first thoughts after learning that I was pregnant was that I would know the donor couple for the rest of my life.  It was an overwhelming time.

In the time that has passed, the donor family and I have kept in touch.  She has turned out to be an especially wonderful blessing to us.  She has become our biggest cheerleader in our infertility journey, having been through a tremendous amount herself.  She has shown me that she is not afraid to be present within someone else’s grief.  She has shown me love and support in a way that I have not experienced from my own friends and family.   For me, five years into this IF journey, there is a depth of grief that I only feel comfortable sharing another person who has experienced infertility.  She has turned into that person for me.

When we visited their state for a vacation last spring, we spent a weekend with them and had a lovely time.  We spent time with their children in their beautiful home.  It was the start of our relationship as friends.

This past weekend, she was visiting a friend nearby.  We invited her to come spend a couple days with us as well.  We had a wonderful visit.  While I wondered if she was still analyzing us, even if it was to a much lesser degree (I think I would be?), it felt like genuine friendship.

When she left, she left two beautiful cards.  One thanking us for our hospitality and another cheering us along in our IF journey.  Along with a nice personal message it said:

I believe in mind over matter.

I believe in miracles and blessings both great and small.

I believe that hurdles in life are meant to be jumped over, not as something to stop us.

I believe in possibilities.

I believe in the human spirit.

I believe in you.

She encouraged us to keep working towards realizing our dreams, and said that they will be that much sweeter when they finally come true.

It tears me up to read this.

I had a great time with her, and I genuinely like her and think she’s a wonderful person.   She has been one of my biggest blessings along this IF path.  She gave us the chance to become parents - a wonderful and awesome gift.  She also gave us the gift of support and friendship.  For all of these things, I am grateful.

It feels ironic now that I entered the relationship thinking only benefit would be for our children, when the real blessing has been bestowed upon us.