Adoption Infertility Motherhood

No Pickles And Ice Cream

No Pickles And Ice Cream www.herviewfromhome.com

I never experienced the joy of a positive sign on a pregnancy test.

My husband and I never surprised our parents with a cake or card telling them they would soon be grandparents.

I never felt the kicks and punches of a tiny life growing inside of me.

My husband never got to kiss my round belly and get me ice cream or pickles to satisfy strange pregnancy cravings.

Our friends and family weren’t invited to eat blue or pink cake to find out the gender of our baby.

We never bonded over Lamaze classes with other expecting parents.

I’ll never be able to share in funny delivery stories about how we barely made it to hospital in time for an epidural.

But, I did experience a reserved joy when a birth mother called to say we were “chosen.”

We saw the tiny life growing inside of her when she invited us to an ultrasound.

My husband and I bonded while attending adoption support group meetings.

A few close family and friends got to be in on “the news” that there was a chance we would be parents soon.

We can now share a great story about how our car died on the way to our oldest son’s delivery in a town three hours away, and we made it just in time to see him be born.

My husband cut our son’s umbilical cord.

I’ll never experience the joys and trials of pregnancy and delivery. But, because of her, I am experiencing the joy and trials of raising a beautiful child.

Thank you to birth mothers everywhere for your amazing love and generosity.

With love, from an adoptive mom.

About the author

Kristine Jacobson

Kristine Jacobson is a writer, a mother of three children and farm wife living in South-Central Nebraska. She puts her creative skills to use as editor of Nebraska Family Magazine at www.nebraskafamilymagazine.com and helps non-profits and small businesses share their stories in her public relations business, KRJPR.