A woman I know, who I grew up with, has made the amazing, yet diffucult decision to become a single mom by choice (SMC). Like me, she struggled through the online dating world, repulsed by the amount of dick pics and rude, sexual harassing comments that popped up on the regular. She is in her mid thirties, intelligent, fun-loving, attractive and has a good head on her shoulders. Like me, she was confidant that she would find love, get married, have children and live happily ever after – or something like that – but like me she didn’t find love, not the kind that lasts at least. Like me, she knows that beyond a doubt she is supposed to be a mom. Like me (back in 2013) she is going for her first appointment to start the journey of IUI. I will pray every night for this lovely woman, that unlike me – she is successful. She is in a place in her life where any child would be lucky to have her as their mother. She is strong and capable and she is going to do this on her own. I hope this works for her. I got your back C.
As we all know, (or at least those of you following my journey know) this wasn’t meant to be my journey. Whether the clinic was at fault or my annoying body and its messed up menstrual cycle was at fault, IUI was not for me. I couldn’t do it anymore. I lost the fight because of the awful nurse who didn’t know what a vagina looked like and made my last IUI cycle unbearable. I knew in my heart then, that adoption was my journey.
Haiti was my country, a sweet boy or girl under 3 would be my child. I filled out the paperwork, I wrote the essays, I attended the classes, I paid the obscene amount of money required to continue, I got my references, I was poked and prodded both physically and emotionally in order to complete the medical forms and psych evaluations. I had my house examined and every aspect of my life observed. It was intrusive and financially draining, but it was worth it. My eye was on the prize – being a mom. An SMC. No big deal. 3 years didn’t seem like a long time. That first year went by – no issues. only 1-2 years left! This past year (2018) had adventures, ups and downs, but no word of a match.
Then January 2019 came – and I received an email from my agency!!! Thinking “maybe” this is it, I eagerly clicked on it and read through it in about 3 seconds flat. My paperwork had expired in October and if I could please hurry and get it re-done that would be great!
ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME.
October. As in 2018??? Yep…I was being advised three months post-expiration that my paperwork, my references, my police checks and RCMP clearances, my medicals had all expired. I would need to get them updated (and of course pay more money – always more money – none of which goes to help the children of Haiti or their government) and quickly please!!!!
ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME.
I wanted to tell them to shove it. To stick their paperwork where the sun doesn’t shine! I was angry, frustrated, confused, annoyed and a million other emotions that I hadn’t felt in years. But after screaming and venting, I called my practitioner, booked my appointments, and am now trying to re-do my paperwork one document at a time. At the end of the day, I still want this. I want to be a mom, and I would love the opportunity to be a mom to a sweet little Haitian boy or girl under 3.
So I will continue on. I will do what I need to do to get my documents renewed and write down the two year date in my calendar so if GOD FORBID I am still here waiting, I will know ahead of time when things are due. I will not wait for anyone to take responsibility for my impending motherhood. That is on me.
Being an SMC is lonely, it’s expensive, its tiring – but OMG I know it will be worth it. We have our villages to help us through the tough times and I want to thank each of my friends and colleagues who have helped me survive the past week or two where my brain felt like it was going to explode.
It’s been a long January…lets see what else 2019 has for me?! BRING IT