Quest for Mia
Looking back over the past four years, it is amazingly blatant to Chad and I that no other path could have led us to this point…the point of adopting our daughter from China…the most peaceful, comfortable, bring-a-giant-smile-to-my-face decision we have ever made.
By the spring of 2001, we were in full force for operation: bun warmer. We had been married four years and had kept a puppy alive for nearly six months. In our simple minds, that’s really all the prerequisites needed to get the family started. I even took a part-time job in preparation for my “delicate condition”. After all, we expected to become pregnant immediately like it happened with all of our friends. Each month’s disappointments became more and more defeating. We did all the research we could for the next 6+ months. In December of 2001, we sought help from my OB/GYN. It took about 9 months to exhaust their resources, so in mid 2002 we were referred to an infertility specialist. This Dr. and his staff became good friends of ours and we felt lucky to go through this trial with them.
Later that year, the infertility process became overwhelming. I was surrounded with pregnancy…everyone in our lives seemed to be having babies and my calendar was full of baby showers, baby shopping, baby announcements, hospital visits and food to new parents. Although I was happy for them, this was difficult for us to watch and I allowed it to erode my self-worth (which sounds bizarre, but I’ve learned is quite common). What seemed like a burden for some was utterly unattainable to us. I refused to address these feelings because I didn’t want to be a dark spot in the brilliant lives of my pregnant comrades and furthermore, there was no one to blame for the crummy situation. In fact, I continued on like nothing was wrong. My frustration found its way to my stomach and I completely lost my appetite. Unfortunately, this began a snowball effect. The hunger deficiency led to rapid weight loss which led to more infertility complications. Over this time, I am certain that God provided ample resources including family and friends that attempted to reach out and help pull me out of this hole, but my pride whispered that I was strong enough to survive alone on my island. In a short time, my theory proved fallible as evidenced with my physical condition and I allowed Chad to step in first.
We started with a fabulous trip to Palm Springs to re-group. I allowed myself to be angry and sad and all of the emotions that accompany infertility. I stopped going to ALL of the baby functions and started taking advantage of a kid-free life. We traveled and stayed out late on the weekends. We were spontaneous and I carried a tiny purse (just because my friends were carrying those bulky diaper bags)…and guess what, I got hungry again.
Infertility-wise, we took a couple of months off and then started the invitro-fertilization process. We had a successful embryo implantation that held on for nearly eight weeks. The miscarriage was a month long nightmare for us and was an easy decision not to try that process again.
The day our miscarriage was confirmed turned out to be a truly magical day. Chad was struck with the desire to adopt a child through a remarkable conversation with his all-time hero, Byron Nelson (a well-respected golfer). This was something I was longing to hear for the past year. We immediately started on an adoption path. We learned of a single mom in Houston that was pregnant and wanted to find a Christian family for her unborn child. Letters were exchanged, but we struggled to find common ground in the area of biological mother’s future involvement with the child. She ended up miscarrying the baby at about 12 weeks which lead to another period of recovery.
In May of 2004, on a cruise ship off the southern coast of Spain, we decided we were ready to try adoption again…but this time, we wanted China. It all made sense to us. Our friendship had first blossomed in China back in college during a study abroad semester, we both preferred a daughter (okay, not very PC of us…but admittedly true), we loved the idea of having an obviously adopted child that we could celebrate her heritage, and our domestic experience encouraged us to a closed adoption this time. Yes, there were risks as with the other processes, but as Chad gently remarked during a not-so-pleasant hospital visit, “There are no needles in adoption.” so I can pretty much handle any of it.
On May 26, 2004 we fell in love with our daughter. That Wednesday night we attended the Hope For Children adoption orientation. We witnessed the adoptive families interact with their daughters and we heard their heart-warming stories. Here is an excerpt from an email I wrote to my friend the following morning:
Oh Chelsea, last night was as marvelous as my dream of heaven. I went to the mountain top and can't come back down. There was a panel of parents with their adopted kids. As they shared their experiences, Chad and I sobbed. It totally solidified that this was the right path for us. In fact, I KNOW that all roads in my life have lead me to this point right now. I'm in love with my daughter. I have butterflies and I can't get her off my mind. I saw her in the face of each little girl last night and she is so beautiful!
We were ready and excited to start a new life adventure, hand in hand with our daughter, and so we prayerfully began “the quest for Mia Maulsby”.
Continued
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