On our first date, over a nice, quiet dinner, he lobbed a question that took me by surprise: “How do you feel about kids?” I froze. Was it a trick question? I was accustomed to the run-of-the-mill, first date questions: “where do you work out?”; “have you seen Cavalli’s Fall line?”; or “have you been to Mykonos?” This was a definite first. I took a deep breath, rustled up my courage and responded from the heart, “I love kids. I would love to have a kid, but I just don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”
For the next two hours we dissected every possible road block: ex’s who never panned out to be the parenting type; childcare challenges and general lack of support systems; and most importantly, two men having a kid legally when they could not even marry in the eyes of the law (with the exception of a handful of states at the time). For every reason I had for not having kids, he had a stronger reason for why he would. This is when I knew this guy was worth a second date.
We didn’t waste time. Four months later, we had selected a surrogacy agency, an egg donor and waited patiently, sometimes not so patiently, for a surrogate to choose us. And then it happened. We received the call that the ‘world’s greatest surrogate’ was interested in us. We immediately booked a flight to Sacramento to meet her, her husband and their two kids. It was love at first meeting.
Over the following months, we flew back and forth between Florida and California for the embryo transfer, the gender ultrasound, and we stood proudly to snip the umbilical cord on the night our son, Xander, was born. It was perfect.
It wasn’t long after we began planning for Kid #2. This time, the journey was not so easy.
During the 2nd round with our original surrogate, she ran into some health challenges that prevented us from moving forward. Sometime later we matched with a new surrogate in Little Rock, AR. We flew to meet her and quickly moved the process forward. Our first round of embryo transfers was successful but only temporarily. Our second round did not take. We were out of embryos.
Although disappointed, we did not give up. We opted for another path to Kid #2 – Adoption. We enrolled in Adoption classes and were certified. Our goal was to be placed with a newborn with a guarantee for a quick adoption. In the world of Foster-to-Adopt, we soon discovered guarantees do not exist.
We shifted course and focused on Private Adoption. We found a fantastic agency who worked with us and we were placed a with a birth mother in South Florida. When we were matched, the gender of the baby had already been identified. We prepared for the arrival of our second son. His nursery was ready and we celebrated at his baby shower with friends and family. We were ecstatic.
As the days ticked closer to the expected delivery date, I made sure my phone was always with me. Exactly, one week before his projected arrival date, I was unprepared to receive a text from the birth mother that the baby was stillborn. We laid him to rest in a tiny casket at a private funeral. We were crushed.
We were ready to give up, but we regrouped and chose to continue. We cast our net wider. In addition to working with the adoption agency, we developed a relationship with a private attorney who specializes in adoption. She connected us with her colleague in Phoenix who facilitated a match with an expecting birth mother. This time the relationship with the birth mom was a bit different. She was forthright in admitting to drug use prior to the pregnancy and alleged that she had been drug-free since learning about the baby. We arrived in Phoenix late on a Friday night to meet her. On the morning of our Saturday lunch meeting, we were informed that she would not meet with us unless we paid a large sum of money. She alleged that the money was to pay for diabetes medications needed as a result of the pregnancy. We offered to pay the pharmacy directly, but she refused. The attorney’s office offered to provide the money for the medications once she presented the prescriptions. She refused. She insisted the money be paid directly to her in cash. At the advice of our attorney, we terminated the relationship. It was another blow to our hopes, another disappointment.
We continued our search. A few months later, we were contacted by an attorney in Gainesville. She told us that an expecting mother had seen our profile and wanted to meet. We hopped on a plane to meet with the birth mother and father. They let us know they had narrowed their selection to three couples for which we were one. Later that night, over a quiet dinner, we received the call informing us that we had not been chosen. It was one disappointment too many.
Alex and I discussed that a second child was not likely to happen for us. We recognized all the blessings we already had with Xander. That night we made the decision to stop our search.
Several weeks later, the day before we were to leave for our annual Summer vacation to Cape Cod, we were preparing last minute details needed for the trip. Alex was shopping near his office while I was in a shopping mall near our home.
That’s when I received a call from my husband. I could hear both the excitement and hesitation in his voice. “Hey babe, I just got a call from Robert (Adoption Agency Attorney). He just spoke to a birth mom who wants to meet us. She ONLY wants to meet us.” For the next 5 minutes he rattled off every detail as quickly as he could. I never heard him talk so fast (and you know how attorneys like to take their time when presenting) – “…she only wants to meet us…”, “…she’s a unicorn…”, “…she’s already 7 months pregnant…”, “…she’s willing to wait for our answer when we return from vacation…”.
By this point I had taken a seat in the food court quietly listening to him race through his list of facts. Finally, he paused…“Babe? Chris? Are you there?”
Seated between a Panda Express and Chick-fil-A, with head down I quietly sobbed. Not sure why it hit me like that, there had been so many tears shed already. But this time was different. There was no emotional baggage, no drug use, or no other families in the running. Both the birth mother and the baby were healthy. And best of all, she had already made up her mind. She chose us.
Alex, Xander and I spent the following week in Provincetown, MA at Family Week, an annual event which brings together hundreds of same-sex parents and families from across the globe to celebrate ‘us.’ At the week’s end, if we arrived with any doubts, we returned home with none.
A day after we arrived back in Florida, we met the birth mom and immediately knew – this is it. For the next two months, I went with her to doctor’s appointments, she met Xander and we met her family. We were in the delivery room when Max arrived. Just like his older brother, we cut his umbilical cord and welcomed him into the world. The last thing his birth mom said to us before she was wheeled out of the delivery room was, “you have a beautiful son.”
Max will turn three at the end of September. Almost exactly 3 years + 2 months earlier, while shopping for flip flops and sunscreen, we received his announcement call – one single phone call which restored our hope.
It was the call that completed our family.
