Heartgrown Adoption

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Heartgrown Adoption

CARLY LEVINGSTON

My story begins like so many others: I married my husband, David, we bought our first place (we were actually in an episode of "My First Place" on HGTV, but that’s another story for another day!). We doted on our three beloved dogs and traveled a bit. Both of us had always known that we wanted children, so it wasn’t too long before we felt ready to start a family. As a young, healthy couple, we figured that starting a family would happen quickly and naturally, just like it had for our family and friends.

However, it was neither quick nor natural as it turned out. The simple and casual trying became struggling, and months eventually became years.

After the first year of trying to conceive with no luck, we found out I had stage 4 endometriosis, which was likely causing our fertility issues, so I had surgery to both help our chances and alleviate some of my symptoms. But alas, still no pregnancy. We decided that IUI (intrauterine insemination) was the logical next step for year two.

But the first round of IUI failed. And then the second. And the third. And with each failure, our hopes faded and our frustration grew. Still, we decided to try one more round of IUI. This time, to our surprise, we conceived, but sadly, it was an ectopic pregnancy, which led to an emergency surgery and a whirlwind of emotions.

Eventually, we moved forward with IVF (in vitro fertilization). Not once, but twice. Our first IVF failed badly — we had no surviving embryos to transfer or freeze.

We reluctantly decided to give IVF one more shot. But, toward the end of this round, I felt my heart start to slowly open to the idea of adoption. I began to quietly research agencies and follow different families created by adoption on Instagram. It was so beautiful and eye opening. I simply needed to know more, but I didn’t want to discuss this with my husband yet for fear that he would not be ready to switch gears. In fact, I wasn’t sure I was ready to give up on my body and our ability to conceive.

CARLY LEVINGSTONCarly is a wife, mother, adoption advocate, infertility warrior, and entrepreneur in San Marcos, Texas. You can find Carly at HeartgrownBox.com.

Top photo by Cheyenne Bell Photography

One average Monday, a friend reached out and asked if we were going to attend Hope in Shiloh, a group created by our then church, for couples struggling with infertility. We didn’t attend this group regularly, as we lived 45 minutes away, and the demands of our full time jobs, plus the hassle of Austin traffic, made these drives a rare occurrence. I had no idea what the topic was for the evening, or who the speaker was, but I felt the need to be there.

So I asked my husband to meet me in the church parking lot after work. Before leaving the car, we fumbled around with our needles and fertility medication, which I had packed in a cooler. Because when you’re in the middle of a round of IVF, timing is everything, even if it elicits funny looks from strangers in parking lots. We quickly did our evening shot and headed upstairs to join the group.

The topic that night was adoption. The speaker had adopted her children from Uganda. While I listened, fully consuming her beautiful story, in the back of my mind I was thinking, “Okay, God…what is this all about? I’m not sure I’m ready. We’re just days away from retrieval! My eggs are literally all in one basket!”

At the end of the night, we met a caseworker who happened to be attending this particular meeting on this particular night, because she just so happened to be at another friend’s home doing their adoption home study!

I got the name of the agency andstored it in my back pocket forlater research. I still wasn’t fullyready to take the plunge, but Idefinitely felt like we werebrought here for a reason.

Several days later, we were able totransfer one embryo. As wewaited and prayed for this tiny lifeto take hold, all the otherembryos in the lab perished.Again. I remember lying in bedabout 5 days after our transfer. Ihad my hand on my belly and Iwas asking God to breathe lifeinto this child — to allow it tothrive. Meanwhile, I had a sinkingfeeling in my gut. I already knewthat this baby had not survived.With my eyes closed, I saw aglimpse of a baby boy who lookedlike my husband. I felt like it was asign of what was to come — apromise of sorts — but I didn’t fullyunderstand it yet.

Our precious little embryo didn'tmake it.

It was heartbreaking to dosomething so invasive and socontrolled, and yet have doctorsscratching their heads as if you’rean anomaly. I didn’t want to be ananomaly anymore.

W e w e r e t i r e d . A n d b r o k e n .

Adoption quickly found its wayback on the table, and we begandiscussing it openly andprayerfully. On the morning ofJuly 4, 2015, I woke up certain oftwo things I had been prayingabout.

One, I was going to go from full time to part time at work, and two, we were going to adopt a child. This is the first time in my life I woke up and knew what to do with every ounce of my being. I told my husband, and he was on board just as quickly as the words came out of my mouth.

The following month, in August of 2015, we attended an orientation at a pregnancy outreach — the one we had learned about while attending Hope in Shiloh that pivotal night. Afterwards, we headed home feeling great about moving forward with this small, nonprofit, Christian agency.

In May of 2016, we welcomed our son, Cason James, into our family.

He was conceived when we attended that orientation! It was the only summer orientation offered by the agency, and we were accepted as a waiting family at just the right time, before they closed the door to other families for about a year. And that caseworker we met at Hope in Shiloh? She ended up being our caseworker, too.

We met our soon-to-be-son’s incredible birth parents at 33 weeks pregnant! Six days later, they chose us to be his parents. Two days later, we were at the hospital waiting to hold him.

Every year, every failure, every tear, and every prayer pointed us to our son. He was wanted, chosen, and reserved just for us, although he grew in another mother’s womb.