I’m afraid that this week, I got some news that has left me rather sad – Russ is leaving. He finished the first stage of his training and will be moving on to Kingsville, Texas for phase 2. I must admit that I took the news kind of hard. I’m not sure if it was the loss of a friend or if secretly, deep down, I was hoping to emerge from my adoption experience like a caterpillar emerges from his cocoon and Russ would want to sweep me up in his arms and we could rekindle some of the sparks I really felt on that first date. (Before finding out half of my town knew about my pregnancy, the vomiting, and Russ covered in ice cream thanks to a leaky drumstick.) As is the Navy way, he will be leaving in two weeks so Russ and I agreed to have dinner before he left town but I can’t help but find myself a little mopey that’s he’s going. My girlfriends sensing my blues swung into action and planned a girls’ night out!

I admit that this whole – “I broke up, moved out, and now I’m pregnant and placing the baby for adoption” has thrown my friends for a good loop. I get it, it’s an awkward situation. They aren’t sure how to be around me, and I keep trying to encourage them to just be themselves and ask questions if they have them, but honestly I don’t think they even know what to ask. I had one friend offer to throw me a shower, which was super sweet, but I assured her that I wasn’t really going to need anything from a baby shower. Another burst into tears about what a beautiful baby it was going to be and how sad that I would lose it. I think after my girlfriends helped me get settled in my new apartment after the break up, they kind of gave me some breathing room. They called to check on me but they didn’t hover, and sometimes that is the sign of the very best of friends.

My friends Jen and Shelly were at my house promptly at 5:30 so we could get ready to go out. The cooed over what a cute “bump” I had. (Which seemed very politically correct as I feel like I’m well past the “bump” stage and moving into the “big as a house” stage.) The baby is no longer really a kicker, but a mover and a shaker and they watched as the baby repositioned itself to get more comfortable when I sat down so Jen could work on my hair. (The baby moved right onto my bladder so they even got to experience that pregnant woman, “dear lord I hate to go to the bathroom NOW!” in action.) After an hour of giggling, fussing, gossiping, and of course – talking about boys, we were ready for dinner!

My friends had chosen this fabulous restaurant where we got a beautiful table right by the window and we got to watch the last shreds of day as they descended into night, and then see a few stars make their appearance. I love eating out with friends, and I was very happy to be in the middle of the happy chatter and even the occasional sloppy toast. I sat there smiling, soaking it all in. I ordered conservatively off the menu – staying away from anything acidic (even tomatoes) to reduce the chance of heartburn, but for me the night was less about the food and more about soaking in the company.

One thing I can say is that no matter how fabulous the restaurant getting a group of eight, let alone eight woman who are distracted merely by each others’ company) seated, ordered, and then getting food out to them is really a feat. The restaurant handled it gracefully but at 9:30 we were still sitting at the table, I was yawning and day dreaming about bed, when I realized that the night could be about to take a turn for the worse.

“So whose ready to go bar hopping?” my friend Kerri said from the head of the table.

Voices chorused out their eagerness to go and recommendations of where to get started, and I started to silently panic. I had ridden with Shelly and Jen, and there was no way I was ready for any bar hopping. Frankly, I was ready to curl up under the table and fall asleep!

“I’ll take Joy home and meet you guys out,” I heard Shelly say from across the table. I flashed her a grateful smile and immediately felt my momentary panic dissolve.

We parted ways a few moments later with hugs; they were swirl of excitement headed towards the bars and I was a big sigh of relief headed home to bed!

Shelly and I chatted in the car on the way home. Mostly we talked about superficial things, I griped that the curls she and Jen had carefully constructed were already falling down and she complained that her hair that she had so painstakingly straightened was starting to frizz. I asked if she had any prospective boys on the horizon, she said there were a few she might be interested in but no one she was too serious about. Pleasant conversation seemed to kind of dwindle, and soon we were riding in silence.

I sensed in the silence that something was on Shelly’s mind and I also sensed that it was something she needed to work her way to herself. I looked out the window at the familiar scenery.

“Joy,” she finally said “how did you decide to place your baby for adoption?”

I turned and studied her profile thoughtfully for a minute. I knew from several long years of friendship that Shelly had an unplanned pregnancy when we were in college. I also knew that she terminated the pregnancy, so I felt like I needed to proceed slowly and with caution as this might become one of those friendship altering moments.

“Well, I’ve always known that I was adopted so keeping that in mind I felt like adoption was the best choice for me right now. I don’t think my life has enough stability to give a baby the safety and structure that it will need growing up.”

“Did you think about not having the baby?” she asked.

“I considered it, but ultimately that wasn’t an option that worked for me.” I said but silently I prayed – please may I not be hurting my friend.

Silence settled again, and I had this feeling that I needed to say more, to give her the whole picture and so I did. I told her about selecting my Attorney about Mary and talking to Linda. I told her about Beth and John. I even discussed the uncomfortable money stuff about the assistance that I received from Beth and John through the Attorney’s office and how even though it is uncomfortable to admit that I was getting help how I felt like I had a safety net in case I was taken off work because of the pregnancy. (Gestational Diabetes or other pregnancy related things that caused the dreaded “bed rest.”)

We were parked now and it was quiet again. I went back over my words and my story, trying to see if I found anything that might have sounded like a pointed judgment against my friend, against the choice that she made and lived with because I wasn’t there to pass any judgment on her or her choices. I didn’t know about her pregnancy until she had terminated it, but I remember what a difficult time she had emotionally afterward.

“I think,” she said slowly and carefully, “that if I had know that I could’ve had that support available to me, I might have made a different choice.” There was a tear sliding down her face, and I hugged my friend and I cried with her.

After all the tears were shed, just before we said good night she had one more question for me.

“Do you think that you will miss the baby after it goes home with its parents?”

“Every day,” I said with a smile and she nodded. I suspect that of all my friends Shelly might have understood that better than anyone else.

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