I had been parenting my oldest for 2 years when I found out I was pregnant again. I was thrilled and couldn’t wait to have the family of my dreams. I miscarried at 17 weeks. This brought about 4 years of secondary infertility and all sorts of treatments and shots and 3 more miscarriages.
We decided to adopt. I had spoken to about 3 birth moms and then the phone stopped ringing. I was rather depressed but determined. I found out I was pregnant in March of ’95. Because my miscarriage rate was so high, I thought I might miss again, so I kept up with my adoption ads, but cut back some what. One week after I knew I was pregnant, I heard back from a birth mom. She said it had taken her those last 3 months to really make up her mind and she was due in May. My son was born on the 7th. We flew out to Utah when I was 14 weeks pregnant to pick up our son. It was love before first sight.
When my daughter was born the following October, My husband brought my sons to the hospital. Imagine the faces of the nurses when they saw my 6 year old, my 5 month old and a newborn all on my hospital bed. The smile on my face was now permanent and I realized at that moment that this was truly the way my family was meant to be. I now am grateful for my many misses because I would not have the complete love and joy of parenting my middle son.