Rob and I don’t talk very often. I can honestly say that he does make an effort to call every ten to fourteen days to see how I am doing and once I say I’m fine, he gets off the phone as quickly as possible. Emily has come and gone, he was going to be moving, so he was staying busy. Frankly, I’ve been a little relieved because it’s hard to get on with your life and move forward when your past keeps popping up over and over again.

I mention this because Sunday while I was standing at a gas station, putting the gas cap back on my car but basking in the sunshine and thinking about how lucky I am to live in the South in the Spring, my phone rang and it was Rob. He was about a week early for his check in phone call but I still answered, I don’t know what I was expecting but I was unprepared for what I got.

After the expected pleasantries (you know “hey, how’s it going?” “good, you?” “good.”) were exchanged, Rob blurted out with “I just got off the phone with my parents and we’ve made some decisions about the adoption.”

I felt the world start spinning and I got in my car and pulled it away from the pump and out of the way.  I was confused for many reasons, the first being that we had agreed that he wasn’t going to tell his parents about this whole pregnancy situation. It was the last of three agreements that we made that had been unbroken. I could tell by the tone of his voice, that I was not going to like what was coming.

“What decisions have you made about my son?” I asked, with as much calm and quiet as I could muster.

“Well, my Dad doesn’t think that I should give the baby to strangers to raise, especially since my brother and his wife are currently going through the process to adopt a baby.”

“I see,” I said. Rob’s brother, John was the proverbial Black Sheep of the family he had an addiction problem, had stolen from his parents and been kicked out of the house, gone to jail, and Rob and his Father thought I was going to hand my son over to him to raise on the promise that he had turned his life around. The world around me was still spinning but everything was awash in shades of red.

“That way Elizabeth could get pictures and updates, and maybe my daughter could even be a part of the baby’s life.” He said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, breathing deeply and trying to focus and make my anger go away, trying not to lose my temper. Elizabeth was his ex-wife why was she going to need pictures and updates?

“Well when I told her about this whole adoption thing earlier this week she got upset that our daughter wouldn’t get to know her half-brother. She wants to know how and where the baby is, and how he’s doing.”

I have always known I have a rotten temper. I have always prided myself on the amount of self-control that I have that I don’t lose my temper more. However, the people closest to me know that when I am really angry and really calm – it’s probably best to head for the hills. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being minor annoyance and 10 being postal – I was about 15, nuclear and ready to explode.

“Rob, I can’t talk to you about this right now,” I said “obviously you’ve had time to prepare yourself for this conversation, I haven’t. I need some time to digest.”

“No Joy, we’re going to talk about his right now,” he said loudly.

“I assure you, we’re not. I’ll call you later.” I said and then I hung up the phone.

I don’t think I was ever as angry in my whole life, as I was right that minute. My hands were shaking and my son was shifting from one side of my swollen belly to the other, I suspect that he was getting a flood of emotions from me at that minute, and I was ashamed that none of them were very good. I hugged my belly and I thought of Beth and John, my son’s parents, because I really believed with my whole heart that they were meant to be my son’s parents, so what was I going to do about this? I certainly wasn’t going to let Rob’s Father control what I did with my baby.

I called Rob back a few hours later but only to tell him that I would call him tomorrow so we could discuss things. I simply told him I had a few things I needed to work out. In actuality I had a plan, and that was to offer him a counter proposal, one that would hit Rob where it hurt most.

When I arrived at work on Monday, I had two emails from Rob’s family. I had one from his Father telling me I was a slut and a whore and he was glad my plan to “trap his son” had blown up in my face and that he was going to make sure some good came out of my selfishness. (Quite honestly the email was much longer than that, but that was the gist of it. To this day it is still the cruelest email I have ever received.) The second email was from Rob’s sister, who I had met once – we stayed at her house for a weekend, telling me how hurt and disappointed she was my behavior. I did not respond to the sister from Rob’s sister but I did take the time to point out that I had moved out and come up with my adoption plan all without his son, I never, not once suggested we get back together let alone try to get married. I assured him I would pray for him, because with so much hatred in his heart clearly that’s what he needed – prayers. What the heck had Rob told these people?

I called Mary at the attorney’s office to let her know what was going on and to put my mind at ease that really the only people who could stop Beth and John from getting my son were Rob and myself. She assured me that was the case. I also told her that Rob’s ex-wife wanted “updates” and she said it was highly unlikely but really that was up to Beth and John. I told her that I would let Rob sort that out. (Frankly, I still thought that one was a little over the top.)

That evening, I got myself into the safest place I could think of and braced myself to do battle. In my heart I was fighting for my son’s future and for his happiness. I sat down on the floor with my back against the sofa, Ben snuggled next to me so I could pet his soft fur. (I found petting Ben to be very calming.) Then I called Rob.

“Hey,” I said brightly, “I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he said and I could tell he was suspicious.

“I think you and your parents are right, I don’t think a stranger should raise my son, so I talked to Cathy today at work, and she said that at the end of the month I was going to be getting that raise she’s been talking about.”

“That’s great,” he said and I could tell suspicion was giving way to confusion.

“Well, with that raise and what you would be legally obligated to give me in support, I can keep the baby.” I finished.

Between you and me, I was bluffing. The raise was still a carrot dangling over my head, I was still not interested or equipped to raise my son by myself but I refused to be back into a corner by this man and his family.

There was silence.

“So you better tell your family to play nicely since I’m going to be around for a long time.” I added, in a voice that sounded so sweet and so bright my teeth ached. If he had seen the fury on my face, he would’ve known it was a bluff but since he had wanted to do this over the phone, it had helped me out tremendously.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh I got some emails from your Father and sister today, they seem unimpressed by my choices. You really should encourage them to be nice to the mother of your child since obviously I’m not going to let my son visit people that call me a whore or talk badly about me. We’re going to have to work together to parent him.”

If I hadn’t had him when I mentioned the money – I had him now. I could almost hear him blanch over the phone.

“Now Joy, wait, you don’t really want to keep the baby do you?” He said, I could practically hear the back-peddling.

“I have always loved my baby and wanted what’s best for him, you and your Father made me realize it might be me.” I said.

Rob spent the next half an hour “convincing me” that Beth and John were the right parents for our son. I pretended to put up and admirable fight because I didn’t want him to know that he had just played right into my hands, but by the end of the call we were back on track. He also agreed to talk to his family and get them to refrain from any future emails. I told him I would appreciate it greatly. I told him if he wanted updates for his ex-wife he was going to have to call the attorney and see if Beth and John would be interested in doing that. (He never did.)

If I had thought, for one minute that any Rob’s Family’s plans for the baby had anything to do with love for my child – I might have been more receptive but I suspected that really it was more of pride. My suspicions were confirmed and my doubts were put at ease the next morning when I got the last email I would ever receive from Rob’s Dad. It was sent before Rob and I had reached our agreement so I never bothered to tell him about it, but the highlight was -

“Just because you are pregnant with my son’s child doesn’t mean you are anything to this family. The only thing you will accomplish in this life is giving birth to a child from someone of my son’s caliber who you preyed upon when he was emotionally weak.”

Yes, my behavior was not entirely on the up and up, but when I looked at that email I knew that at least I was making decisions from a place of love. I don’t think Rob’s Father could say the same.

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2 Responses to “My Inner “Moma Bear””

  • Those people sound awful. Good for you for sticking up for your son!

  • You? Are one tough bitch (and I mean that in the absolutely most positive way EVER). I am standing here in absolute admiration for the way you handled that.

    Mama Bear indeed. Life is tough, honey, and we women have got to be tough too. Tougher.

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"Each adoption experience is a personal journey, this is one is mine - along the way, I laughed, I cried, I learned something about myself and I'm sharing it here, so that if nothing else you will know that you aren't alone."

My Birthmother Experience starts here:

http://decidingforlife.com/2009/10/08/before-the-beginning/

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