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       The day we decided to adopt was one of the worst days I've had in a long time. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but its true. But before I get to the specific day that we made this life changing choice, there is something you should know. I am infertile. Like many couples who decide to go the adoption route, we can't have our own biological children. One month before Kris and I got married, I was rushed in to surgery for massive pelvic pain. I was diagnosed with Endometriosis, a painful condition where the uterine lining grows where it shouldn't and creates painful adhesions that makes it extremely difficult to conceive. We tried for almost five years, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant. I went on medications and have had too many painful and invasive procedures and ultrasounds. It got to the point that I lost almost all hope to have baby of my own.
     During this time I saw what seemed like everyone I knew on Facebook get pregnant and have beautiful and happy babies. Every time I saw a new baby photo shoot, I would sob. Every time I walked past a pregnant woman, I felt like a failure. I slowly let go of any friendships my husband and I had when those friends had babies. It felt like I would never be happy and I would never have a family of my own. You see, I'm a product of a divorced household. My parents separated when I was 3. I still remember the day my dad left, me sobbing and begging and pleading him to stay, the look of pain in his eyes as he walked away, the hurt my mom felt. I was lucky enough that my parents stayed cordial and put up with each other for my sake, but I'm pretty sure this is why I feel this desperate longing to have a whole family that was all mine. A family that I made out of love, and that I supported in every way I know how.
     The defining moment of 'giving-up' on my fertility was when my best friend got pregnant on her honeymoon. I didn't know how to feel, I was so torn between utter joy and happiness that she was going to be a mom and complete despair, because I was still barren after four years of trying. I remember her pulling out a positive pregnancy test from her purse and I felt all of the blood drain from my head, I got dizzy, and I really had to pull it together. To be honest, I probably wasn't the best friend she needed that night. My mind felt a million miles away from my body. I tried to make stupid jokes so I would have a reason to smile when I felt like I was shattering in to a thousand pieces. I still feel guilty to this day for not being the best friend I could have been.
     And then there is dealing with pregnant women. Remember when I say this, my perception is my reality, and my perception was that almost every one of the at least six pregnant people I knew in the past few years has complained A LOT about their pregnancy, with the exception of my bestie, because she's awesome and pretty sensitive to what I'm going through. But seriously, for each "My feet hurt," or "Be glad you don't have to deal with the swelling," I wanted to punch a bunny in the face. And that's saying a lot since I'm an animal rights advocate. It felt like I was going to %&$#ing EXPLODE every time I heard I complaint. I wanted to shake them and yell, "I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING TO HAVE SORE FEEL AND CANKLES!" But I didn't and I don't. I usually nod my head and stay silent.
     Remember how I said that the day we decided to adopt was one of the worst days I've had in a while? Well, here it goes... I am in retail management and work at an extremely busy mall in a tourist town. That day there was what seemed to be a huge number of families and pregnant women that went to my shop. I don't know why on that particular day I took it personally, but I did. I was so mad at them for being able to do what my body refused. On my hour long commute home, I cried. Not just little tear drops falling from my cheeks, no, these were wails. I was keening and pining for the children my body would never have. Huge alligator tears gashed their way down my face, which now looked like a river of mascara and eyeliner. I got home and fell in to my husband's arms, just inconsolable. After an hour or so of grieving, I calmed down and sat in front of my computer. A picture popped up on my facebook feed. It was of my mom's brother with his two adopted sons. They looked like such a happy family. It was at that moment, after years of talking about it, that I knew I was ready to adopt. I knew that this was it, the right way to start my family. I was happy that I knew this was the moment, but I was scared because I didn't know if my husband felt the same way. I looked at him and told him how I felt, and then the most beautiful thing happened. He said yes. That he was ready and wanted it too. I imagine that's what it feels like to find out you and you spouse are expecting. Then we had one more important realization, that we weren't going to just adopt a baby, we were going to adopt a young child out of the foster system. One of my friends in middle school was a foster child, and all she wanted growing up was a family to call her own. There are so many children that are alive, that need us to care, that need us to want them. And I do. I want them. My child is so unbelievably wanted, even if he or she doesn't know it yet. Tomorrow Kris and I start the process with our first meeting with the adoption agency. I plan on documenting each step along the way, because I want the other 6.1 million women(in the US) that are suffering along side of me to know that they aren't alone. The world still needs you to be a mother, maybe just not in the way you thought.