An Open Letter

Some of you know that for the past approximate eighteen months we have been working on becoming pregnant. “Working” is the operative word because our story doesn’t follow the typical lines. Instead of a welcome surprise, followed by cute and inventive ways of disclosing our good news, our story involves medication, blood tests, ultra-sounds, needles, all mixed in a healthy dose of stress.
If you wonder why you did not hear earlier about this part of our journey it is because we made a concerted effort to manage this information. Knowing who to tell and when to tell was a significant source of stress for both Caryn and I, and from the very beginning we knew that if we were going to make it through such an emotionally draining endeavor as Assistant Reproductive Technology, we would have to permit ourselves an unprecedented and unapologetic level of selfishness. We apologize if you feel hurt by this exclusion, but know that we have done everything we have done out of a sense of mental and emotional survival.

And yet…and here is the good news. After several attempts using Inter-uterine insemination, after a cancelled attempt at Invitro-fertilization, after a roller-coaster of emotions, after prayers stacked upon prayers, after tears, after resolving ourselves to adoption, after overcoming my phobia of needles, after all this, we are delighted to announce that we are pregnant.

Our pregnancy is still in its early stages. Since most miscarriages happen in the first 12 weeks, most people wait to announce until then. But this has not been like most people. Since so many people (relatively) have known the dates and times of our tests we are announcing much earlier. We still have a long way to go until the birth, and there are, of course still risks.
In fact, this highlights one of the big sacrifices that we have made throughout this whole process: personal privacy. There have been far more people involved in this process than either Caryn or I ever imagined there would be. More people have gotten a window into the raw emotions of our heart. We have not been able to hide behind the filter of time and perspective.
For me (Adam) this has been a lesson in learning to trust people. And that is what we are continuing to do. We trust that if something goes awry with the pregnancy, we will be supported. We trust that God will provide a job for me that will allow me to provide for my family (and oh-so-crazy, allow Caryn to stay home and care for our children. OH, did I forget to tell you. There are two babies. That’s right, twins.) We trust that tomorrow God will be God. We will be us, and that life will be a mixture of blessing and suffering. We will trust because for us, there is no other option.