Eli loves to camp in the woods of northern Ontario. I love to curl up next to my fireplace with a good book. Eli loves the feel of a hand crafted canoe paddle gliding through crystal clear, clean water. I like to sit on my deck with the sun on my face overlooking Lake Amy Belle. When Eli is unsure of what to do he fixes things (go figure, a Fyksen who loves to fix). When I’m unsure of what to do I like to talk about things. Opposites attract and that’s where they can sometimes find their strength.

The first miscarriage that Eli and I experienced was hard enough, but we got through it. Then about seven months later we experienced our second. It wasn’t just a fluke. I had all my blood work (mind you I gave a lot of blood in those 9-10 weeks). I had two ultrasounds. We saw the heartbeat. I ate right. I was crushed. And surprisingly, my default mode wasn’t to talk. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or at least not right away. I was introspective, and I focused on facts rather than just emotions. But guess what Eli was willing to do? Talk. He would make those phone calls. He would ask me how I was doing. And on top of the talking…he would try to fix it because that’s what he does. There’s no magic solution for fixing a loss like this, but it does become a part of your story. And it doesn’t even have to be the saddest, most depressing thing. I stood through my miscarriage on my own two feet while at the same time my husband stood strong on his own two feet. The trick was we stood strong on our own but we leaned on each other, back to back.
After we wrote our home study, I was ecstatic but I was still navigating what it meant to become a mom through adoption rather than biologically. I know it may sound weird, but in today’s society, it’s tougher than you think.  Embarrassingly enough, I was looking at t-shirts that said “paper pregnant” and navigating this weird space of becoming a mother without physically, biologically going through the process. The weirdest thing was that I was stuck between this place of I could absolutely continue to try the biological route. For what it’s worth, I/we could have continued the biological route. However, after two miscarriages, and a plan to always adopt, we knew this was our path. I was unsure at first about an adoption party. Eli encouraged me. I never really liked baby showers to begin with, but I wanted to celebrate the building of our family. Eli couldn’t careless about a “baby shower”, but he encouraged it and participated in it because interestingly enough, we were meeting each other in the middle. I needed an acknowledgement societally that I was building my family and he needed to “fix” or “do” something.

In the last few months, we’ve been at an interesting crossroad. We’ve gone from intense
anger at our agency, to interest in fostering to adopt, to submitting to the process, to solace in the uncertainty but confidence in the decision. What I’m trying to say is this…I can stand on my own two feet. I’ve found my strength. I guess I’ve always had it. But I’m so much more sturdy when I stand strongly on my own while leaning on Eli because how we do and view things differently is what offers us strength when we come together.

~Chelsea