For weeks I’ve been trying to get the story of my experience with adoption down on paper, and even though it’s been over a year since it ended, it is still too heartbreaking to tell the story in its entirety.  I know one day the words will come. But for today:

What I can tell you now, 

is that the adoption process is like building your entire life out of sand, that it doesn’t matter how hard you tried or hoped, it can all slip away.

What I can tell you now, 

is that I’ve wanted to become a mom more than anything since as long as I could remember. However, it took me longer to settle down than I expected as I lost my dad to suicide in my early 20s. This loss took me on a different path, shortly after his death I became a forest fire fighter. It was an incredible life changing experience but definitely not a career that worked with motherhood. I retired from fire at 31 and met my husband at 32. Having kids together wasn’t even a question.

What I can tell you now,

is that after a year and a half of trying with no success, we went through all the testing and were told IVF would be the only option. After several failed attempts, pregnancy losses, and significant damage to my body from the hormones, my husband and I decided to try for adoption. We quickly became consumed with the endless paperwork, the education seminars, the interviews, the record checks, the personal references, the in-depth medical histories, the mental health assessments, family histories, disclosing our entire financial situation, assessments of whether our house was safe, the temperament of our dog, our relationship history, detailed histories of our childhoods, articulating what types of parents we would be, how we would discipline, and on and on and on…it was not only demanding but completely invasive.

What I can tell you now,

is that we were told if we were wanting to adopt a healthy baby, we would be waiting a very very long time, that we would most likely be adopting a baby with some sort of special needs.We were also told that the chances of a mother using substances during her pregnancy were quite high, and we had to determine what substances and the duration of use during the pregnancy we were willing to agree to. We also had to decide on whether we would accept a baby with high risks of genetic disorders and which, would we accept a baby from incest and what level, out of rape, premature and at what week and on and on and on….this was all before we even got on the waitlist. Without knowing the specific circumstances, how are you supposed to decide on any of that?

What I can tell you now,

is that once we got on the waitlist it would be 2-3 years but that we had to be prepared to receive a phone call at any time and show up anywhere in the province within 72 hours to pick the baby up. We had many conversations about how much or little or did we prepare for this. We also had to be prepared that once we adopted the baby, for the following ten days after placement, the birthmother could change her mind at any point and take the baby back.

What I can tell you now,

is that we gave our adoption agency over 2 years of waiting, as well as over ten thousand dollars. None of which was returned. We also experienced incorrect and unethical charges by the social worker hired to do the assessments. But we worried if we complained it would impact how the agency would manage our file, possibly impacting our chances of being chosen for a baby. We also had major concerns when the agency kept changing directors and staff, yet we were already in too deep with our time and money to move to another agency, and we didn’t know who or where to raise these concerns to as they were a private agency, like most agencies in Canada. 

What I can tell you now,

is that we started at #69 on the waitlist and that we were down to #31; we started to believe we would finally be getting our baby within the year. That I started imagining how incredible it would be to finally have our little family share our first Christmas together. I now have so much shame that I let myself dream like that.   

What I can tell you now,

is that it all ended with one email, the agency announced it would be closing, there would be no more placements. I will never forgetthe shock after I read that email. It was like my heart dropped through the couch, the floor, to the basement, it just fell out of my body. I couldn’t speak, I just handed the computer to my husband. No words came out of either of us, but we both instinctively knew we didn’t have anything left. The next few months were an absolute blur, like a literally cannot recall what happened and I still don’t have the words to describe the magnitude of this loss.

What I can tell you now,

is that when you ask someone who is going through or has experienced infertility “have you considered adoption” it is like rubbing salt into a wound you can’t begin to understand. To be that naïve is a privilege.  Unfortunately, my story is not unique, several agencies in Canada have also closed just as abruptly.  International adoption is more costly and comes with even greater risks. There are no guarantees with any adoption, it is a very complex, pricey and grueling process, and it can easily end without a baby.

What I can tell you now,

is that this has been the worst year of my life. That our marriage did not survive. That my mental and physical health continue to be impacted daily. That I still have many days where I have difficulty finding reasons to put my feet on the floor in the morning. That anytime I hear the word adoption I want to scream and weep at the same time. That I can’t grasp how this could have happened, the life I have been dreaming of and working so hard to build, literally just slipped through my hands and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.   

Cortney Ruault