The day before my doctor’s appointment, I was scheduled to have dinner with my Mom and Mary and I was so nervous. I met my Mom at the restaurant a little early, and with tears in my eyes I told her about what had happened with Cathy. My Mom frowned as she listened, and then she reached across the table and placed her hand over mine.

“Joy, you are going to have people give you their opinions and advice, whether you ask for it or not, you’re going to have to learn how to let those things go,” she said.

“I know,” I said because I’ve never been one to care too much what other people thought or said about me, “but Cathy was my mentor, for her to say that really hurt.” My eyes welled with tears again, but I blinked them away as best I could while my Mom continued to pat my hand.

After I felt like I was back in control of my feelings, I told my Mom that I had made my doctor’s appointment. I also told her that I had experienced my first craving, crab rangoon, I could eat it almost every day and it never made me sick. Someone told me that cravings stem from things that your body knows that it needs, I couldn’t imagine what the baby needed with cream cheese and imitation crab, but I was glad for a reprieve from being sick. We were laughing about my craving when Mary was shown to our table.

In the laughter I had forgotten more than my hurt feelings, I had forgotten my nervousness and perhaps that is why Mary almost immediately seemed like a long lost friend. Mary’s hair and eyes were darker than my Mom’s but there was something about them that was so similar, perhaps it was an aura of warmth and compassion.

I immediately felt at ease around Mary, but my Mom was in Mother Bear mode, trying to protect her cub! For the first fifteen to twenty minutes, she went about the business of the adoption, asking questions about the process, about what assistance was available to me, what paperwork had to be signed, what my responsibilities were, etc. etc. For my part, I told Mary I had a doctor’s appointment the very next day, and she gave me her card to give to them, along with the name of her administrative assistance in the event that she was out of the office. Her office would ensure that my medical expenses were all taken care of since I didn’t have any health insurance, but I was ineligible for any state programs. (The bills would ultimately be paid by the adoptive parents.) I also provided my list of living expenses, things like rent, phone, an estimate of my grocery, and other miscellaneous expenses.  My Mom wanted to know how those things would be handled if something happened and I was put on bedrest and unable to work and Mary went over the things on my list that the birthparents would pay for and what they would not. (Most of the expenses were covered, though things like cable were not – of course, this varies depending on the state and the laws in that state.)

Finally we got to the heart of the matter, I gave Mary back the profiles of the parents that I had not selected and showed her Beth and John’s profile and explained how I picked them. I still felt a little bit like I had to defend my decision, like there had to be more than gut instinct involved.  My heart still ached for the parents that I couldn’t pick, Mary sensed my heavy heart and assured me that in time they would find children for all of the parents whose stories I had gotten to know in my own adoption journey. I asked Mary NOT to call Beth and John until after my doctor’s appointment, just to make sure that I don’t get their hopes up if something is amiss.

With all of the business of the dinner out of the way, the most remarkable thing happened – Mary shared her own personal adoption experience with us, she was the adopted mother of a beautiful little girl. Her daughter’s birthmother had been a woman who already had a house full of children and she didn’t think that she could take care of another one, so she placed her baby girl for adoption. Apparently she didn’t have an adoption plan, she came to the decision at the hospital, signed papers and left. Mary said that she often wished she could forward pictures of her daughter to the birthmother, just so she would be able to see how beautiful and loved the little girl was. My mom and I both had tears in our eyes when she finished her story, but then my Mom shared her adoption experience with us.

My Mom and I often talked about adoption, but some of this was new and different. I knew that some of my story was similar to Mary’s story – my birthmother came to the hospital to deliver me and the adoption plans were made after that. However, my Mom admitted that even years after my adoption, when there were cases about birthparent rights, she sometimes worried that my birthmother would show up and try to take me back. I was shocked to hear that, I never knew that my Mom had ever been worried that someone would try to take me away from her.  I understood a little better her concern that I not contact adopted parents until I was sure that was the course of action I was going to take; apparently she had often considered what it would be like to lose her daughter, even after I was legally and undoubtedly hers.

As the two women shared their experiences and I saw the tentative roots of friendship taking place, I was struck by the irony that both of them were so obviously Mothers. Everything about them seem warm, comforting, compassi0nate – they were made to be mothers, and yet neither of them was able to have a baby and here I was…not even remotely ready to be a mother, but the baby growing inside me, made me one whether I was ready to be one or not!