"Why Don't Y'all Just Adopt?"

Or, "Well, there's always adoption!"

For some reason, that question and statement seem to be said a lot when a couple explains that they are struggling with infertility. (For the record, if you say it to someone facing infertility on a particularly emotional day, you're likely to get knocked upside the head.)

Children who need a forever home is a major problem. It is an impossible problem. It is a gut-wrenching problem. And it is a problem for which all of society is responsible. 

Infertility is a medical condition. If you can be "cured," it requires medical treatment. 

In no other situation do we ask people who are sick to "fix" a societal problem.

Although it seems awfully convenient that people facing infertility are the perfect solution for these parentless-children, it isn't. In some situations it may be the perfect solution; in many others, it isn't.

The decision to stop pursuing the conception of biological children is an extremely emotional decision. It requires a grieving process and each couple has to come to that decision at its own pace. Once that grieving process has occurred, then it is possible to consider the possibility of adoption, which comes with its own challenges and opportunities.

So...why didn't we decide to adopt?

Well, we thought about it. A lot. In fact, last summer while we were waiting to see if a medicine was working we spent a lot of time looking into adoption. We first became aware of North Carolina's foster care system at our annual, statewide church assembly in June. At a session focused on how churches can support foster parents or those looking to adopt children out of the foster care system, we learned that there are not massive fees or monetary requirements to adopt a child who is a ward of the state. And we learned that if just one family from every church in North Carolina adopted one child approved for adoption from foster care that there would be no children available for adoption in North Carolina. What a wonderful thought!

We were incredibly intrigued. So we got the paperwork. We looked over it and over it. We signed up for an information session with Wake County (all foster care and adoption-from-foster-care in North Carolina is done at the county level). We went to the session. We found out that "our" child could still stay on Medicaid, we would receive a stipend from the state, and, most importantly, we would be able to give a child a home.

We looked at the website, where, yes, you can see children available for adoption. It's heart-wrenching. They say stuff like "I just want someone to love me." "I just don't want to be separated from my brother." "I just want my own room."

We prayed about it. We went on a road trip to Montreal and talked about it on the way up and the way back. We talked to friends. We talked about how we felt about adopting a child of another race. How would I learn to do a black female child's hair? I read a book about how to best assimilate an adopted child into a new home and how to deal with the unique challenges. Would we pass a home study? Do we have enough fire extinguishers? Would we want a sibling group?

There are so many questions and things to consider.

But there were two very nagging, major questions:

• Were we really ready to stop pursuit of a biological child?
• At age 30 and 31, could we start our parenting with an 8 year old child (the average age of a child in foster care)?

When it came down to it, we had enough doubts about our answers to those questions that we felt it was important to pursue assisted-reproductive technology. And we knew that if there was any doubt, that we shouldn't pursue adoption right then. When it's someone's life, you have to be sure.

So that's what led us to our reproductive endocrinologist.

However, we still feel very connected to the adoption process and we hope our life leads us to a point where we're able to pursue it.

At some point. When we're ready.