Our Adoption Story: Part II- Pregnancy After Adoption

We were in love with Sadie from the get-go; though to be honest, for the first few weeks I felt like I was babysitting, keeping Sadie's birth mom, Sarah (not her real name) updated with texts and photos every few days. Those were rough exchanges, I'm sure for both of us. Joey and I held our breath during the seven months leading up to finalization in court and Sadie's sealing to us in the temple, especially as more than one well-meaning? individual told us stories about couples they knew who had adopted only to have the birth mother or father change their mind and take the child back. "You never know!" They would say. "But I do hope that doesn't happen with you." Please never, ever tell these stories to adopting couples until after things have settled. They are already aware of the possibility, and they are probably more familiar with the adoption laws surrounding their situation than you are.

Sadie goes to court

In that vein, it doesn't take much effort to find all sorts of articles listing everything you shouldn't say to couples who have adopted, and in my experience people have generally been quite sensitive  to our situation (though to be clear, I am Sadie's "real" mom and the woman who birthed her is her "biological" or "birth" mom. But I get it.) That's not my intention here, though it always irked me when we were told, again by well-meaning individuals, "you know what's going to happen now that you've adopted- you're going to get pregnant". The truth is that before we adopted Sadie we had a 1% chance of getting pregnant on our own and after we adopted Sadie we had a.... 1% chance of getting pregnant on our own. By the time Sadie's adoption was finalized Joey and I were already trying to figure out when to start the adoption process again, with the thought of pregnancy completely off our radar. Lucky for us, it never came down to that. 

The very week after we finalized Sadie's adoption in court, and 3 days after she was sealed to us in the temple, I started feeling sick. Barfy sick. Of course I had a hundred explanations for why I was feeling sick and for why it was lasting day after day. There was NO WAY it was because I was pregnant. No way. Well after 2 weeks of feeling sick, and after crying 10 minutes into the animated Tarzan movie, I decided I might as well check and rule out that explanation. Surprise of all surprises, the stick told me I was pregnant. Now Joey and I were one of those clichés. 

I've had a difficult time embracing this pregnancy. I spent the first few months trying to embrace Sadie without wanting to throw up and I've spent the last few months trying to embrace my husband without my belly pushing him 3 feet away from me. I haven't been able to embrace much these last 9 months. Denise Austin tells me I should enjoy myself because "this is a wonderful time of life." She also tells me to "one, two, three, kick it... great!... knee lift" and to "mambo... yes!...  cha-cha." I'm grateful for Denise. I stopped feeling sexy a few months ago, but at least she's kept me toned and flexible under my 25 extra pounds.

But that's not the point. There's more to being pregnant than the weight gain, or so I should hope. "Wait a minute Rach, you've just spent the last 4 years whining about how you couldn't get pregnant and now you're whining about how being pregnant isn't the greatest thing on earth. How ungrateful is that?!" When I saw the double lines on the pregnancy test, indicating a positive result, I fell to my knees and cried the ugliest happy tears of my life- believe me, I am grateful. But grateful and excited are not the same thing. 

I'm grateful that the Lord in His infinite goodness decided the time was right to bless our family with this most unexpected of miracles. But I'm not excited that this was the time the Lord decided in His infinite wisdom was the right time. I'm grateful that Joey and I won't need to spend weeks, months, even years filling out more adoption forms, meeting potential birth mothers, and hoping against hope that we might be granted a second miracle baby. I'm not excited that instead I get to spend the next weeks and months  keeping two baby girls under 18 months old alive, safe, and feeling loved, when one is constantly on the move, getting her hands into everything she shouldn't (including the dog water, silverware drawers, and cow noses. Literally). How in the world do moms of more than one kid do it?! How do I nurse one and entertain the other? (I've tried training Sadie to sit quietly and watch anything from Daniel Tiger to Planet Earth to The Office, but she doesn't last more than 2 minutes). How do I stay sane changing the 10th diaper of the day? (Ice cream, of course).

For 39 weeks I've been trying to figure this out- How to embrace the miracle that is taking place in my body without freaking out about the challenges that miracle will bring. And while I haven't had any dramatic revelations on the matter, there are a few thoughts that make me really happy:

1- Our family is growing, when at one point we thought it might be just the two of us. (And the dogs, cows, chickens, etc).

2- Sadie will gain a sister and become a sister, all at once.

3- Joey gets to be the father of another sweet and sassy girl. (He thinks he wants boys, but he's secretly much too tender for that.)

4- Matching dresses!

5- Another granddaughter for our parents to spoil.

6- Now Joey and I actually need to have a conversation about birth control ;)

7- The Lord in His infinite goodness and wisdom would not have sent another baby to our family at this time if He didn't know I could handle it.

8- Another perfect baby girl for me to hold and hug and kiss and sing to and play with and snuggle and love.  And that's a pretty happy thought.