Archive for the ‘Birthparents’ Category

My weekly appointment came and went, still no dilation, and I was still on track to be induced at the end of the week. I was clearing everything off my desk at work so that at the end of the week, so I wouldn’t leave anything behind. Still dealing with pupps and finding it hard to sleep at night made the last week of pregnancy a bit of a rough ride, I was tired all day but I had too much to do to really be tired.

However, last night I woke up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and getting back to sleep proved to be impossible. I would get comfortable and start drifting and then suddenly that position wasn’t comfortable anymore so I would shift around and go through the process all over again. (Ben was so unimpressed by my restlessness that he actually moved to the dog bed to go to sleep!) By the time morning came around, I realized that something wasn’t quite right in what I was experiencing. I suspected that I was having contractions, but I wasn’t sure. (I had never been pregnant before and they weren’t painful…not to mention that two days before I had not been dilated at all and I was pretty sure that had to happen first.) However, I called to the office and said I would be late and called my Mom and told her I was going to the Doctor’s office and why, just so she’d be on standby. (I should also probably remind you that I was adopted so my Mom couldn’t really offer me any wisdom or guidance on this.) Then I went straight to the Doctor’s office when I knew they were opened.

I checked in and explained what was going on, and I patiently sat in the waiting room reading. I was not in pain or huffing and puffing, I would describe what I was feeling as moments of discomfort at best, so I waited.

When Janet called me back and I described what was going on, she looked at my chart, and then looked at me skeptically.

“Have you eaten anything today?” She asked.

“Well no, I thought I might be in labor and I didn’t think I should eat before I gave birth.” I said, and at that moment I really wished I had taken a Lamaze class or something, should I be more prepared about what I was supposed to do?

She left me in an Exam room and came back with a doughnut. There was something about Janet that radiated peace and calm, and with my doughnut in hand I felt very at peace while I waited for Dr.A.

Dr.A blew into the exam room like a hurricane, a very professional hurricane, but a high energy swirl of a man bustled in. He had them hook me up to a machine and then did a quick exam and announced that I was three centimeters dilated and in labor!

“I bet you’ve been tired since I last saw you,” he said smiling, “your body has been working hard!”

It was funny to me that on some level, I knew I was in labor, but still to hear it out loud I was suddenly overwhelmed by all the things that I still needed to do! I had a proposal on my desk waiting for some numbers from Ken, I hadn’t done all the shopping I had planned for when I get out of the hospital. What was I going to do with Ben if they couldn’t take him at the vet’s office today? I had a thousand thoughts running through my head, and developed a plan of action while Dr.A called the hospital to let them know that I would be headed that way, and give them all the vital stats that they needed.

I left the Doctor’s office and went straight to my office. (Yes, I am ridiculous and I know it.) I called my Mom and after a few frantic minutes, she was gearing up to head out of the door. Then I turned my attention to my desk. I popped in the numbers that Ken had sent me for my last proposal, double checked my inbox for anything that required immediate attention so I could send it to someone else, and then I sent out an email to let Beth and John, Mary, and even Rob know that I was in labor and headed to the hospital! With all of that done, I made the rounds at the office and let everyone know I was headed to the hospital. My web team gave me awkward hugs and words of support, Kay gave me a big genuine hug and asked if she could come and visit me in the hospital, I told her of course! When it was time to tell Cathy, she gave me a hug and wished me well. I didn’t know if she was still doubting if I could pull off my adoption plan, but I was well past caring.

Back at my apartment, I double checked my bags and took Ben for a walk while we waited for my Mom. I wasn’t timing my contractions though I noted that they were starting to get a little bit painful, but still it seemed too minor to mention. Ben, the calmest dog ever, and I leisurely walked around the apartment complex and I wondered what would happen over the next few hours and the next few days and thought about how my life was going to change.

My heart is pounding, my head is reeling – I am being induced in two weeks, a week early.

At my doctor’s appointment, Dr.A made that concerned face and since I knew I had been staying away from the watermelon I didn’t think I had done anything to cause the concerned face. (Especially since moments earlier he was laughing at my explanation of why I smelled like peppermint.)

“Well Joy, here’s the situation,” he said, still looking serious, (have I mentioned that I’m not really a fan of the serious face?) “you aren’t dilated at all and that baby boy seems to be doing some serious growing in there. I’m concerned that the longer the wait, the less realistic it will be for you to have a vaginal delivery.”

“Ok,” I said, and I knew my voice sounded small and scared because in that moment I felt small and scared. His nurse stepped closer and patted my shoulder reassuringly.

“I think we should schedule you to be induced.”

“Ok.” I said, and he looked relieved.

What I should probably explain is that I have since learned from watching my girlfriends go through several pregnancies, is that apparently most people have a “birth plan” – I did not. Most women have strong opinions about the drugs used when they induce labor or just about the general induction process – I did not. I suppose with so much experience with women who have plans and strong opinions, Dr.A was braced for the storm and so what he got instead was probably a bit of a let down.

So Dr.A went about the business of getting me scheduled to be induced and when I left I went about the business of getting ready to go to the hospital and have a baby.

For weeks, I have had my bag and Ben’s, packed and ready to go. Ben would be staying at the vet while I was in the hospital. Knowing that Ben was prone to separation anxiety I had talked to the vet and packed a bag for Ben that included a blanket that I had on the sofa for a few weeks so I knew it smelled like me and him, so that would be comforting for him. I packed his food and a soft snuggly toy, and then on top I wrote a letter to the vet techs that would be taking care of him while I was in the hospital. I explained that while lots of pets were in their care Ben was especially important, because I was going to the hospital to have a baby and coming home without one, Ben would be the only baby I had left. I admit I know I was playing on their sympathies a little but I was worried about Ben and I knew I was going to have my hands full of emotion and worry so I was trying to lessen the worries on my plate.

I had packed my bag haphazardly, I had some things that Beth and John sent me – a book to pass the time, sugar free hard candy, etc. I also had packed a comfy sleep shirt, basic toiletries. While I’m confessing things I should probably admit that even now, mere weeks away from having the baby, I hadn’t read any books, watched anything labor and delivery related, or taken any child birth classes. I somehow missed the window on the classes and I seemed to purposefully avoid the other two for fear of, well, fear! I didn’t want to see anything terrifying or think about all the things that COULD go wrong, so I was kind of flying by the seat of my pants as I pulled my bag together.

I learned that apparently I do have some Type-A tendencies as I lined up the proposals that I had to work on between now and induction day. I told everyone in the office what was going on and I planned to be out for two weeks after the baby was born. (Obviously I didn’t need a full maternity leave.) All of my work ducks were in a row.

I emailed Beth and together we squealed in excitement across cyberspace. She made the plans that needed to be made on her end, and I knew I would see her soon!

The last duck was the hardest to get to line up, Rob. I didn’t know what to say or do about him. We hadn’t spoken since we said goodbye at the barbecue restaurant. I wondered if he wanted to know or didn’t want to know. He had already said that he didn’t plan on coming back, so should I even bother? I flipped and flopped on the issue but ultimately I cast a message out across cyberspace and across the miles, one day if my Son asks why Rob wasn’t there when he was born I wanted that to be a question Rob had to answer, I didn’t want to shoulder the guilt. I sent the email and said a prayer, and knew that really there was nothing else I could do.

In the first trimester of my pregnancy, the life inside you seems fragile and needs to be protected and the actual “birth” seems far away and TERRIFYING (well it did for me anyway). For the first trimester I had to avoid any reality shows that showed what happened in the delivery room – I was really scared, scared of the pain, scared of that big baby coming out of that tiny opening. Yes, the birthing bed seemed a horrifying place.

During the second trimester, as my bump grew I learned how to share my pregnancy. People asked questions, pregnancy was no longer something I could put on the back burner. Labor was still on the horizon but still far away and still a bit scary.

Near the end of my third trimester I went from “I’m scared of Labor” to “let’s get it done.” The closer we get to the end of this journey, the more uncomfortable I am. It’s harder and harder to get comfortable in bed, the baby doesn’t seem to have enough room in there and so he’s constantly moving and shifting trying to find a cozy spot. One night the baby was so restless, I didn’t think I would ever get to sleep and then Ben, my big snugly dog, put his head on my very pregnant belly and the most amazing thing happened – the baby settled down and went to sleep (so I did too shortly thereafter). Ben was definitely earning his keep!

A few days after my weekly check up I noticed that I had some sort of hives, everywhere. I was covered all over my body except for on my face and my palms! I even had them on the soles of my feet. In a panic I called the doctor’s office where I was diagnosed with PUPPS pregnancy rash. (PUPPS is a cute acronym for something that doesn’t feel very cute at all.) I was also told that I needed to avoid taking medication if at all possible.

The closest experience I’ve had to PUPPS outside of childhood illnesses are medication reactions, but even then you take meds and it’s over in a day or two. I went out and spent a small fortune on Oatmeal products to calm the itching, soaks, body wash, the whole nine yards. They all offered temporary relief but the itching always came back. I didn’t realize how much I relied on products like Benedryl for situations like this until that option was off the table.

Getting comfortable at night was hard before PUPPS, afterward it seemed almost impossible. I flopped and flipped and tried not to scratch all night long. I woke myself up rubbing my legs together like a cricket trying to stop the itching without actually scratching. It was awful, and then relief came from the most unlikely of places!

Beth had been nesting and reading all the appropriate books and so she and John put together and send me a package of goodies for my hospital stay. (Yes, there was a sweet card which caused me to cry – happy tears, just a little!) In that box she included Peppermint Foot Lotion. I laughed at the time, as I hadn’t really seen my feet in weeks, but I still put some on my feet almost immediately. (I love that peppermint smell!)

I was curled up on the sofa reading when I realized something – my feet weren’t itching. I slathered myself in the peppermint foot lotion and almost immediately two things happened. The first was that I started to feel like I had a chill, something about peppermint oil was apparently cooling. More importantly though, the itching seemed to go away!

The next day I sent Beth a jubilant email, thanking her so much and telling her about how her Peppermint Foot lotion was my miracle cure! I could almost hear her laughter when she emailed me back to tell me how happy she was to have given me some relief. I was covered almost head to toe in Peppermint Lotion and feeling better than I had since the emergence of those wretched PUPPS!

I felt so much better I forgot completely about them, until Tim came into my office and after a few minutes of chatting he asked -

“Do you smell peppermint?”

I laughed.

I have a friend that I don’t talk about very often because we have the oddest relationship ever, I call him Uncle Jerry because he is 20 years older than me and on some level I know that if we weren’t “family” our relationship probably wouldn’t make much sense. Jerry tends bar at the sports bar that I have frequented off and on, since I was old enough to drink – it’s a hole in the wall, but they have pool tables and dart boards and it’s not a “meet market.” I like him because he is a practitioner of, what I call, the Southern Art of Story Telling. You can take Jerry down the road so he can pick up a newspaper and when you get back he tells this epic story that makes it sound like a quest worthy of a fairy tale. Our relationship is strange, but he’s family, well kinda.

I had told Uncle Jerry about my pregnancy fairly early on. He knew that Rob and I had broken up and knew I had moved down the street, but since I didn’t plan on spending any time at the bar over the course of my pregnancy I thought I would let him know why. He never liked Rob and was quick to offer me his love and support, another reason why I consider him family I suppose.

Of course to that point his love and support extended to infrequent phone calls to see how I was doing but other than that I didn’t see very much of him, so I was surprised when he called me on Mother’s Day Sunday to ask for a favor. (My parents were in New York City, they go for two weeks every May and we celebrate Mother’s Day when they get back.)

“I forgot my lunch, could you go grab me a sandwich before the bar opens?” He said.

“Sure, from where?”

We sorted out the arrangements and I confess, despite him offering me free lunch from my favorite sandwich shop, I wasn’t jazzed to go to the bar, even if it wasn’t open. (I’m not very big on the lingering smell of cigarette smoke.) Oh, the things we do for love.

A moment after I arrived in the bar, I was again reminded why I considered Jerry to be family. On one of the side tables there was a beautiful little flower arrangement and something that resembled strawberry shortcake. (Jerry later told me he bought and ripped up an angel food cake and then topped it with strawberries and whipped cream himself.)

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he said as he extended his arms wide to give me a hug and I promptly burst into tears.

Jerry patted my back clumsily while telling me how happy he was to celebrate my “first Mother’s Day” with me, and it’s funny that despite the pregnant belly, and the knowledge I was carrying a bouncing baby boy I just didn’t really see that “Mother’s Day” applied to me. I guess that seems odd, but I didn’t really think Motherhood happened (or more accurately was acknowledged by other people) until the baby was in your arms.

He told me stories all through our little Mother’s Day luncheon, mostly stories about regulars I knew but hadn’t seen in a while, but he sprinkled in some of my favorites for good measure. I laughed so hard that at one point I was holding my sides.

“You aren’t going into labor, are you?” he asked with genuine alarm.

“No,”I assured him, wiping away tears of laughter.

I left just as the bar opened and the first few patrons made their way in.

The next day, when I went to work, I had an emailing wishing me Happy Mother’s Day from Beth (and John too, she assured me!) and she asked if I had a nice Mother’s Day and I smiled, thinking of a dark bar and an old bachelor’s strawberry shortcake when I replied to her by saying “I really did!”

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.