It’s been my experience that most people choose to have a family as part of their life journey. Having children is one segment of a life that is made up of many exciting and challenging experiences. However, when you attempt to have a family and nothing happens, it becomes a much bigger concept. It becomes something that, until you either achieve it or decide to give up on it, is all-consuming.

When I was in my 20s I was in a long-term relationship with someone who had two children from a previous marriage. He never seemed interested in having more children during the time we were together. However, I was committed to the role of “stepmother”. I experienced what it was like to be a parent; some parts difficult and some blissful. After the end of such a serious relationship I was looking for some fun. I eventually found it with a man quite younger than I.

I began to experience a longing to have a child in my early 30s. At this stage my new partner wasn’t ready to have 
a family, but I had these weird sensations bubbling up from inside. I began to wonder how it would feel to carry 
a growing baby in my belly. I meditated on how a child made by the two of us would look and behave. There was conjecture about a baby born of our relationship but there were also surging physical feelings that arrived unbidden. My body was sending me messages.

As these feelings became stronger and more regular I began to talk to my partner about them. I knew I had to 
wait until he was ready but it felt 
exciting to have the possibility between us. A combination of my longing and 
age brought us to the decision to stop using contraception.

Everyone said that because I was so healthy I wouldn’t have trouble conceiving. I felt as if I was following 
a maternal urge; that it was a natural progression for me to carry a baby. I felt it in my heart and my belly. I watched pregnant women with wonder and admiration for the incredible miracle 
of conceiving, carrying and giving birth to a child. My body longed to experience that miracle.

But nothing happened. We read books, had natural treatments, went 
to counselling, tried a fertility drug and I had a laparoscopy. Natural therapists were positive: “You just need a bit of fine-tuning,” one said. Medical practitioners were the opposite. They thought I had left it too late. They said it didn’t matter if 
I was healthy or not, what mattered was the age of my eggs. They said we must 
try IVF, and soon.

It was confusing. My body seemed to be ready and my natural instincts were all firing to make this happen. Life seemed to have led me to this point. I had grown up with the premise that women can have it all, but it wasn’t as if I’d said I would put off having children for my career or until I had more money or had travelled the world. Rather, I hadn’t been in a long-term relationship until now when the option of having a child was 
a possibility.

FACTS OF FERTILITY

Though my partner and I had embarked on the journey of conception with excitement, over time we began to feel jaded and deeply disappointed. Each month that I didn’t fall pregnant caused feelings of deep anguish. According 
to doctors there was nothing wrong, 
yet we didn’t conceive.

I experienced such strong physical sensations that it felt as if my mind, body and spirit were constantly aching. When 
I watched a friend breastfeed her child, my breasts hurt. When I stood close to 
a pregnant woman I felt barren and empty. These weren’t responses that 
I could control and they regularly shocked me with their intensity.

“Infertility” is a big, scary word, especially when it’s used to describe your own condition. Medical practitioners consider my partner and I “infertile”, however, tests have never been able to show a reason for this. Everything still happens that’s supposed to happen to make a baby: I have a regular cycle, 
I experience symptoms, and tests have shown that I ovulate regularly and my partner’s sperm is normal. Investigations suggest that everything is in working order. A doctor even commented, “Well, that’s a fertile uterus if ever I’ve seen one.” Yet we have never been pregnant.

FAMILY CONNECTION

I watch my parents and in-laws embrace new members of our family and take on their grandparenting roles with delight. It gradually dawned on my partner and I that we may never experience this connection, and we may never have 
a child to care for that looks and acts 
in similar ways to us.

At the same time as we endured these uncomfortable feelings we were aware that many children in the world need parents. Perhaps we could form a family by caring for one of them? It was a huge challenge, when the longing had been so physical, to turn around and entertain the thought of parenting a child that I had not given birth to. If we were to adopt a child, they would look nothing like us and have no biological connection to our families.

We were still hanging on to the possibility of conceiving a child when 
we began to investigate various 
adoption methods. The process of adopting within Australia was likely to take a long time. Birth parents choose adoptive parents from a large pool of applicants and we might never be chosen, all depending on the preferences of people we did not know. Adopting children no longer cared for by their biological parents was not simple and straightforward, as these children 
should be with their biological parents whenever possible.

However, Australia has established intercountry adoption programs and there appeared to be a very real need for applicants. We began to see that what we longed for most was to be parents and to have a family. Could we do this by caring for a child from another country?

I worried about the ethics of bringing a child from another country to live with us. I wondered about the children already in our extended families and how they would react to a child who looked nothing like them and who had joined our family in such a different way. I was unsure about how my partner and 
I would bond with a child that we had not conceived and given birth to, and how they would bond with us. Plus, we would miss the early parts of the child’s life: they wouldn’t be with us from the time of birth developing early mother-father-child interactions that are so important.

It was a grieving process. We could form a family through intercountry adoption but to do that we needed to give up on the idea of having a child that would be biologically related to us. 
I had to let go of thinking that carrying 
a baby in my womb and giving birth 
was the only way I could become 
a mother. Now that these things 
have been considered we can see that 
we can still create a family. A whole 
new world of parenting has opened up that we had never considered before. 
We now have a new dream.

THE STORK LAWYER

After seven years of tests and treatments Elizabeth Swire Falker understands what it means to struggle with infertility. While trying to conceive she gave up her career as an attorney in New York City, finding that she couldn’t struggle with infertility and simultaneously maintain a high-powered job.

She wrote a book on her findings and experience, Infertility Survival Handbook (Riverhead Trade, 2004), which includes everything from navigating the maze of infertility tests and treatments to the virtues of living child free. In 2006 she published a book titled The Ultimate Insider’s Guide to Adoption (Warner Books), which is aimed at US citizens.

She has resumed her work as a lawyer, helping people who are trying to build a family through assisted reproductive technologies or adoption.

Visit storklawyer.com for more information.

For adoption information in New Zealand go to cyf.govt.nz. For adoption information in Australia go to aican.org.