Archive for the ‘Adoptive Parents’ Category

With the papers signed and me on the mend there was no place to go but home, that afternoon Dr.A signed my discharge papers. I was given some prescriptions and some instructions (things to keep my eye out for to help me determine if I needed to seek medical attention or if it was normal healing stuff going on) and then it was time to pack my bag and get on my way. Moments before the wheel chair arrived to take me out (hospital policy, groan) – my cell phone rang.

One of my best and oldest friends Elizabeth had been at school in Montgomery through most of my pregnancy. She had been a wonderful long distance lifeline and she was calling to tell me she was headed home to see Michael. I didn’t know what to tell her, was she too late?

I knew that Michael wouldn’t be discharged until the next day, so I went down to the room next to the nursery where I knew Beth and John were spending their time. (You know I still don’t really know what that room is for, but it’s still very vivid in my mind with it’s neutral walls and warm dusty pink rocking chair.) I felt so awkward and uncomfortable to go them and ask if I could come back with Elizabeth to see Michael. The lines were still blurry between “birthparents” and “adopted” parents.

Beth and John were where I expected to find them, Michael was not. Apparently he had just been taken back to the nursery and they were trying to decide where to go for lunch. Beth’s face was a completely open book and I could see the concern in her eyes as soon as she saw me, but it was not concern for Michael, but concern for me because she could tell that I was agitated about something. I could tell because as I explained about Elizabeth driving her way to town, as we spoke, her expression changed from one of concern to one of happiness.

“Of course, that would be fine, we would love to meet your friend.” She said, and we chatted for a few minutes, ironing out the details.

“We’ll see you later,” John said with an encouraging smile and a pat on my shoulder.

I felt the tight ball of anxiety in my chest relax a little bit, and I called Elizabeth to go over the plans.

About half an hour later, I was wheeled out of the hospital. I was a bit of an emotional wreck again, I had walked through these doors just a couple of days ago, with a son, and I was leaving without one. My Mom had tears in her eyes as well, and I knew she was thinking of the grandson we were leaving behind. Though logically the adoption was done and over with, and I still believed I had done the best thing for Michael, I still felt the pang of his loss.

My Mom and I went to pick up my prescriptions, some odds and ends to keep me entertained while I was on the mend, and then to pick up Ben. My beautiful brindle boy was literally dancing with joy when he saw me, and it lifted my heart to run my fingers through his soft fur and look in his soulful eyes. Then we were home, back in the apartment, where everything was the same as I left it but still seemed a little bit different somehow.

While I waited for Elizabeth, I took a shower in my own bathroom, which was nice. I tried on an assortment of clothes and realized it was going to have to be maternity clothes or sweats, I was not ready for “pre-maternity clothes” yet. (I admit I had fantasies that the baby and most of the baby weight all came off at once.) I took Ben for a walk around the apartment complex, and I could tell how happy he was to have me home, and I had to admit that I was happy to be home too.

The problem that I was grappling with is that in some ways it was “finally over” – Michael was born, I had done what I knew I needed to do. The next step was that I needed to get my life together and move forward. In other ways it was far from over, I knew that I would mourn losing my son, because I had lost my son; I knew it was a choice I had made not something that happened to me, but it was still a very real loss nonetheless.

It’s hard to put into words all the thoughts I had and all the feelings I was feeling, but ultimately I decided what was best for me was to focus on the positives in this situation. I felt really good about Beth and John, I really believed that they cared about me as a person and that even though there wasn’t time for updates – I felt like I knew that they would follow through with their end. There was never any doubt that they would love Michael, but that adoptive parent and birth parent relationship sometimes seems a tentative relationship. I knew that Michael would not only be loved, but there would be nothing that he needed to help him achieve his dreams and goals that he wouldn’t have. I had loving friends and a good support system in place and while I knew that there were going to be bumps in the road ahead, I knew that I would get past them.

I was in pretty good head space by the time Elizabeth got there to pick me up, and I hugged her warmly and was glad at the easy shorthand that only good friends can share as we drove back to the hospital.

The only thing I know for certain that changed from the my stay in the hospital to my visit that afternoon was me, my personal revelations about the situation. I was happy when Beth and John welcomed me like a good friend into the room where Beth was just finishing feeding Michael. We all sat down and we talked, and in that moment, that visit with Beth and John is everything that I wished the earlier part of our hospital visit could’ve been. We passed Michael around, taking turns holding him and fussing over him. While we passed him around we talked, we really talked, about how we felt about the whole adoption process.

I told them everything I had held back, I told them about the horrible up’s and down’s with Rob and about our quick (albeit painful) standoff over who would get to adopt Michael. They told me about well meaning friends who kept telling them not to get their hopes up as I could still change my mind – “it happens all the time” people told them. We laughed even cried a little together, and there in that room and in that moment I knew I was really at peace with my decision and that in time my heart would heal and catch up.

Elizabeth gave me the greatest gift that afternoon, not just in making this magical moment happen, but after almost an hour and a half of talking before we left, she offered to take a picture of the four of us together – Beth, John, Michael, and Me. They let me hold Michael for the picture and we all leaned in close, we look so happy in that picture and I really believe in my heart it’s because in that moment we were.

This time when we hugged good-bye, there were no tears, and as I hugged John he told me – “this isn’t good bye, we’ll see you again” and I believe not only that he meant it but that it was absolutely true.

When my Mom arrived to pick me up I notice that she seemed pretty keyed up, even more than I would have expected. I was in the car for about fifteen minutes when I learned why. I had cousins in town (remember we had agreed to keep this pregnancy quiet so that my cousins struggling with infertility wouldn’t be hurt that I hadn’t chosen them) enjoying the beach for a week. My Mom had told them I was out of town for work, and late last night one of my cousins had been taken to the emergency room complaining of sharp pains. It would seem that Murphy’s Law was in full effect, fabulous!

I won’t get too off track with this whole cousin thing but my parents were spread pretty thin over the next few days trying to take care of me in the hospital and my adult cousins who were far from home and needing to be taken care of as well. I will say that it was a HUGE blessing that they were at a hospital near the beach, I was not. In the end it turned out my cousin had liver damage, the hospital here got him well enough to travel home and then later he ended up getting a liver transplant. I know that you are all caring and wonderful people and I wanted you to be completely in the loop!

I had a contraction checking Ben in at the vet, and it was amazing to see how much that expedited the process of getting him checked in! I felt a tug on my heart as they walked him away and I saw him look back at me with those big sad eyes. It was so hard to leave him because he didn’t understand what was happening, but I would be back soon. (The contraction hit just as I signed the last piece of paperwork and when I said I was in labor right then, I thought the very sweet girl that worked there was going to pass out!)

Once I got to the hospital, I was rather quickly put in a room where I changed into a gown and got hooked up to all the appropriate machinery, and now the waiting game began. My Mom’s best friend, Ruth, came to the hospital to wait with us. Occasionally a cell phone would ring, sometimes a nurse would come in and check on me to see how I was progressing, but other than that it was just a waiting game. We told stories, we laughed, but we were really just waiting. (Ruth, who I call my Aunt, had never had children so I don’t think any of us really knew what to expect.)

However these things happen in their own time. In time the dilation continued to occur, the contractions got to be more of what I expected. The Doctor came in that did my epidural and I made it a point not to look at the needle or move, even a tiny fraction of an inch, while he did what he had to do. What happened after the epidural is all kind of warm and fuzzy for me, I don’t remember feeling any pain but Dr.A was there urging me to push, while my Mom and Aunt Ruth stood on either side of me and encouraging as well! It wasn’t too long before I saw him for the first time, my almost nine pound son. He was whisked away and Ruth followed with the camera clicking away. (She had refrained from taking any labor pictures, something I am very grateful for.)

I am sure it was only moments later, but it seemed like an eternity, as I watched where the baby was and where Ruth was and waited for them to bring him to me. I was vaguely unaware of whatever mess had been made and whisked away by Dr.A and the nurses. I couldn’t tell you what my Mom was doing or saying, it seemed like everything else just fell away except for the squalling little boy that they cleaned up and then placed in my arms.

I don’t have the words to express what I felt in that moment, when he was in my arms for the first time. I checked and counted all of his fingers and his toes, and talked to him without really be aware of what I was saying. Mostly though I just held in my arms and thought he was absolutely the most beautiful perfect baby in the world. (Yes, I know all mothers think that but that’s because for all of us it’s 100% true.) I don’t know how long I held him but I was faintly aware of Aunt Ruth clicking away with the camera in the background. In time, the nurses brought me a bottle to try to feed him and I handed him off to my Mom for her to feed him. My arms and hands were shaking (I would later discover I had been given a little too much epidural as I couldn’t walk when it was time to change rooms!) but I watched like a hawk as my Mom fed, and held, and loved her beautiful grandson.

Looking back it seems like it happened really fast, like I checked into the hospital and moments later – there he was. However, I realize now it must’ve taken longer because sometime after that first bottle, when he had been passed around and hugged and loved by everyone in the room several times over, there was a knock at the door and there were Beth and John. (Enough time had passed for her to get an email and a phone call, get in touch with John, rearrange their travel plans and travel from the Midwest to the Gulf Coast!)

They entered the room tentatively, if ever there were people literally walking on eggshells, it was them! I smiled as big and brightly, as I was capable of and I held out the baby to them and said -

“I would like for you to meet your son, Michael.”

Beth immediately burst into tears as she reached her arms out to the baby with John peeking over her shoulder and Ruth, still vigilantly snapping pictures.

This week I want to do something different, a question was left for me on my FormSpring page and I dashed off a quick answer there but with further reflection I wanted to flush it out and share it here, in case it’s a question other people have, so here goes:

I’m curious if you and Beth discussed openness in the adoption plan. If so, how did you come to an agreement that you were both felt comfortable with?

When I decided I wanted to place my son for adoption, I did some research about adoption. I knew that there were options available to me that weren’t available to my birthmother when I was born. (Adoption has changed a good deal since the 70′s and there is room for the birth parents in their child’s life.) I knew I didn’t want a closed adoption – I didn’t just want to have my son and never know what happened to him, so a closed adoption was out. I also knew that I didn’t think I was strong enough to say good bye to my son over and over again, so a fully open adoption with visitation wasn’t really in the cards for me either. I wanted a semi-open adoption,  I wanted pictures and updates and in time, I want my son to decide if he wants to have a relationship with me.

What’s interesting is that when Beth and John put in their profile, they told the attorney’s office that they did not want an open adoption. They were told that it would really decrease the odds of them being selected by a birthmother as most birthmothers now want an open adoption agreement. However, they knew what they wanted and so they put in their profile and hoped for the best. I suppose this is where Mary really gets credit – she knew what I wanted and knew what Beth and John wanted, and sent their profile with the rest for me to review.

Beth did tell me the story about how people discouraged them from seeking a “semi-open” adoption and I really admired that she really wanted a baby, but not so badly that she was willing to compromise on what she wanted or needed in a birthmother relationship. I really believe that people who try to compromise their needs are often the ones that end up dissatisfied with their adoption arrangements. Beth and I did discuss that for the first few years of my Son’s life -  I would get updates every three or four months. (Those early months are the ones in which he went through changes so fast!) After that I would get updates twice a year, at Christmas and at his birthday. I knew exactly what I was getting going into our adoption agreement and I have never been disappointed.

If you have questions you can always email me  at DecidingForLife (at) gmail.com or ask them at http://www.formspring.me/decidingforlife – Formspring allows you to ask them anonymously.

I am pleased to report that for the time being, Rob and I have called a truce. He still thinks I should not be dating and still feels like it’s okay for him to have opinions about my personal life, I admit that I agree that dating is not a good idea right now, but I resent him trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. He’s not in my personal life anymore, so as far as I’m concerned he doesn’t get a vote. The truce has been called because Beth and John are coming to meet us.

Beth and I have been emailing back and forth, and right up until the morning that we were actually going to meet I was purely excited, but at the last minute nerves kicked in. I started running through “what if’s”  – What if they don’t like me? What if they see the strained relationship between myself and Rob and it scares them off?  What if… I don’t know I had about a dozen fears that ran through my mind over and over again and they all lead to me and the baby being rejected by Beth and John.  I had worked myself into quite a state,  and then standing at the hostess stand I saw them and all the “what if’s” went away.

There is a connection between birth parents and adoptive parents that it so hard to put into words. From the moment I first held that profile in my hands and looked at the pictures I felt a connection with Beth and John, that connection had been getting stronger through the phone call and the many many emails that we had exchanged, so meeting Beth and John in person was like meeting friends. We smiled awkwardly for a minute but almost immediately the awkwardness dissolved and we were hugging and Beth and I were laughing about how nervous we had both been.

The three of us were seated (Rob was meeting us there and apparently running late) and Beth and John gave me a gift – a picture frame with paw prints for a picture of Ben and a squeaky bone! I was touched by their thoughtfulness. We talked about the baby, they asked how I was feeling. I told them about the napping, the strange cravings, the “morning sickness” – some of it was stories that I had told Beth in email, but of course in person the stories are much funnier. Rob joined us while we were talking, and they asked him about his job, where he grew up, etc. We were all talking, trading stories about how we met, talking about things we liked and things we don’t like. It was so much fun!

It was a long lingering lunch, and at the end Beth asked if she could take a picture of Rob and I together and I was proud that Rob and I managed to graciously sit next to each other and smile for the camera.

As we parted ways, I thought about how lucky I was to have Beth and John in my life, how much peace of mind that they gave me. I knew that the baby would be safe and happy in their arms, loved unconditionally. They gave me strength. What an incredible blessing!

I know that I’ve gone back and forth on this, but my situation with Russ is no longer just a hypothetical situation – he asked me out (for Valentine’s Day no less) and I said yes. It didn’t happen completely out of the blue, he called me a few times and we talked on the phone like high schoolers! We talked about everything, our families, our hopes and dreams for the future, everything but the one thing I’m wondering if I should’ve brought up – the baby. I love talking to him and the more I talk to him the more I like him.

I’ve been full of doubt and concerns about this situation. Sometimes it seems unfair that while I am pregnant and my life is all about the baby, Rob has moved on with his love life, shouldn’t I get the same opportunity? Should the baby really keep me from going out on a date with this man that is funny, kind and caring – he’s educated, gainfully employed, and seems to have so many of the traits that I’m looking for in a life partner.

Ever my own worst enemy, I can’t help but look down the road and play “what if” which makes everything seem to take on new importance. What if we really hit it off, when do I tell him about the baby? What if we fall in love and he wants to keep BOTH of us, would I let that affect my adoption plan? What if I tell him about the baby and he runs screaming in the other direction – am I really ready to deal with that? I keep telling myself that all of this playing “what if” is really borrowing trouble from tomorrow, especially since those were all things that might never come to pass, but then in the back of my mind “what if” would whisper again. I know I’m being silly, I know that a new and handsome man is not really going to change anything in my life, let alone my adoption plan, but still my brain shifts through all the options. It’s my greatest strength and weakness all at the same time.

Beth and John have purchased plane tickets to come visit in a month! Her email bringing this news to me also brought about a minor panic attack on my part, what if they reject me? What if they meet me (and presumably Rob) and decide that they wouldn’t want any child that came from the two of us. My panic attack lead me to sit down and with tear filled eyes write a big email to Beth laying out any and all potential problems that this baby could’ve inherited from Rob and me. I started with the normal things like our cat allergies, but I delved into the more serious problems. My struggles with school which lead to being diagnosed with Dyslexia and Rob “allegedly” having ADD, the alcoholism that Rob’s family brings to the table. I shook every genetic skeleton I could think of out of the closet and laid them out on the table for Beth’s inspection.

The email I got back brought even more tears. Beth treated each of my confessions seriously, she did not just send me back a dismissive letter assuring me that they just wanted a baby and would love it. She told me that John doesn’t drink because alcoholism is prominent in his family and that they would make sure that the baby grew up as John did, knowing the dangers of alcohol. She treated each concern seriously and laid out a plan of attack for how she thought she would handle that situation if it happened, and after each fear had been addressed then she assured me that they already loved the baby and that nothing so trite as dyslexia or ADD would make them not love the baby.

Her email brought tears to my eyes but it also brought me peace of mind. My fears had been addressed and assuaged. Beth and John would love the baby, if it wasn’t pink and perfect forever – it was theirs and for them, that was more than enough.