A few days after the last DNC, I had a vision of myself the cold table (where the procedure takes place) screaming and crying uncontrollably. I kept hearing myself sobbing and screaming "No No NO" The first DNC wasn't like that. The first DNC actually didn't feel like a loss. It was just part of the process. I had become a robot trying to make a baby. The whole process of IVF is so clinical, that it doesn't feel like you trying to make a baby. At least for me it didn't. Every other day, taking blood, shots, pills, creams, stats. It became part of your routine.
By this time, I was 2 years into this process, and I think I was at the end of my emotional rope.
The memory of me laying there was like an outer body experience. It was like I was a cloud of myself overlooking the body on the table, who just had a procedure to rid her body of another unviable pregnancy.
I needed to confirm that I did indeed scream and cry and it wasn't a dream, so I asked my nurse, who indeed said I had.
I think that was when I knew I couldn't go on.
I refused to take any calls from my doctor who wanted one last consultation with me. I was angry. I am not a statistic for your books. I just wanted to get on with my life. He told me to "fight the good fight" I almost punched him in the face. "I fought it and lost, let me move on" I thought.
I went home, drank a bottle or 2 of wine, and mourned the death of my reproductive system.
I woke up....foggy, but my mind was crystal clear. I would adopt.
I approached adoption with curiosity, but also it felt right, I would be guaranteed a baby. I actually could make my forever family. That was a refreshing change from IVF, where you continued throwing money in a dead black pit, called my uterus, and pray that all the science projects going on within you will produce a healthy baby
Immediately, I called the one person I knew who adopted a child. She was a sister of one of my friend's bosses. Her lawyer was in California. We had a brief call, and then she put me in touch w a lawyer in NY.
I made an appointment for late August. I took my mom I knew it would be emotional. My lawyer was female. Suzanne. She walked me through everything. The process, the social workers, the tests, letters of recommendation, the costs, and where a single white Jewish girl from NYC falls in the hierarchy of “families” people want to give their baby too. Let’s just say, not too high up.
I wasn’t derailed in the least. She said “your baby is out there. The woman is probably pregnant now, and this should take under 9 months.
She gave Me the paper work, and told me to take the long weekend of upcoming Labor Day to think about it.
I left knowing there was nothing to think about. Where do I sign?