Archive for the ‘Birthparents’ Category

You know that feeling, when you’re working on a puzzle and the pieces all start falling into place? That’s how life feels for me lately. Everything is happily clicking along. I had another doctor’s appointment and everything is right on track for where it should be. Work just feels better now that I know where Cathy is coming from and I know that ultimately I have her support in any decision I make. I’ve still been in contact with the greyhound adoption group here, I’m still gathering information. New relationships are getting stronger than they ever were before.

Beth and I have been emailing each almost daily and the more we talk the more I feel confident in the bond developing between us. I have to admit that the scary thing about this “semi-open” adoption is that once the baby is in their arms and the paperwork is signed, there is nothing to stop the adoptive parents from never contacting me again. I had a small nagging fear that once they have the baby, they’ll forget about me and before long the pictures would stop, but the more I communicate with Beth – the less likely that seems. I feel like she understands that I love the baby and she doesn’t seem to be intimidated by that love at all.

Another new relationship that seems to be getting more confusing instead of less, is my relationship with Russ. He asked for my phone number yesterday and I think he’s going to ask me out. I really like this guy, he seems funny and kind. I admit that I feel a little extra affection for me that he could meet me at a time in my life when I am putting on weight and sometimes when I see him I’ve been green around the gills and it doesn’t seem to phase him at all. However, I go back and forth on the issue – should I even be dating in my current state? I’m just not sure. I am sure that when he asked for my phone number so that he could “call me sometime” that it made me feel likely a giggly school girl.

The only negative thing I have to report is that after the Internet fiasco, I went to have sushi with some of the guys from work. I thought that as long as I stayed away from the raw stuff I would be okay. (“Morning” sickness seemed so far away lately!) I had a harmless little California roll and ended up in the bathroom, unable to keep it down. The guys looked stricken and promised no more sushi until after the baby, but it was my fault as much as it was theirs. Frankly if the worst thing that’s happened in the last week is that I discovered that I can’t eat any sushi (and frankly won’t even set foot in a sushi joint!) until after the baby – that’s hardly worth mentioning.

I have loved having Beth’s email address, we email back and forth several times a day. Through the emails I’ve been getting to know Beth better and the more I get to know her, the more I like her. Some of our emails are about the baby, my pregnancy and their plans for the future, but some of them are just emails about our lives. She’s working right now in retail, but she’ll be quitting to be a stay at home Mom when the baby comes. She asked about my job, what I like to do on my days off, if I go to the beach since I am so close. I feel like she’s interested in me, as a person, not just me as a human incubator for her future child. I can tell that we are still feeling each other out, trying not to say things that will upset the apple cart, but I feel like a solid foundation is being built. Beth and John are planning a visit to come down and meet us sometime in the next month or two.

I’ve always liked my quite, independent life, but lately I’m thinking that it might be time to let someone else in – I’ve been thinking about getting a dog. When I grew up, we always had dogs, and I think there’s a certain magic to the relationship between people and their four legged companions. One thing that has got in the way is that I prefer bigger dogs, and it seems like apartment dwelling dogs are always of the small variety. However, I took an online dog compatibility test and Greyhound came out at the top of the list. I had never really thought about getting a Greyhound, they are runners and I am not, but I emailed my local rescue group to get more information.

In other news, I’ve run into Russ a couple of times, and he always seems very happy to see me. We chat while we wait in line and when we part ways he always tells me to have a great day. He has this amazing bright smile and I have to admit that I’m developing quite a crush on him, but still I’m pregnant…am I allowed to have crushes? or go out on dates? I’m still not sure but right now I’m just enjoying that this handsome man seems to be interested in me.

I still have weirdness at work with Cathy, and I’m really sad about it. She seems to be keeping her distance from me, and she’s someone that was not just my boss but my mentor and my friend. I can’t imagine why she would be so disappointed or upset with me, but she certainly seems to be. I normally tend to confront problems straight on so I would normally confront her, but there is something about this pregnancy that makes me feel so vulnerable. I think there’s part of me that is genuinely afraid to find out what she might say if I pushed the issue.

The man who bought me my hot chocolate, his name was Russ and he is a flight student in the Navy. I know this now because I saw him in Circle K, and I smiled and said hello and thanked him for his generous gift. We talked for a few minutes and then we both had to head off to our perspective jobs. Russ makes me feel conflicted. He is handsome and generous, someone that in another time and a place I would love to go on a date with and I would be hopeful that a relationship would form, but can you date while you’re pregnant? I’m not sure, but as he hasn’t asked me out yet, I suppose that’s putting the cart before the horse.

With Rob back in town, Mary and I setup a phone call between us and Beth and John. I wanted to do it while he was still out of town, but he surprised me and said that he would like to be there. In an effort to show that I was willing to be accommodating I drove out to his house on the day of the call and they called us there.

It was a strange feeling, that feeling that this house that had been OUR house, was not mine anymore. It seemed a little surreal to be there as a visitor, but I was excited to talk to Beth and John so when the phone rang on schedule at 6:00 I could hardly keep myself from answering the phone like a breathless teenager.

“Hello?” I said, and for a split second I was filled with terror, what if this was Emily?

“Hello, is this Joy?” a woman’s voice said from the other end.

“Yes, yes it is!” I said excitedly.

“This is Beth,” the voice said.

“And John,” a male voice chimed in.

“This is Rob, the birthfather, I’m here too.” Rob said from the phone in the bedroom.

It is very hard for me to explain the connection that I felt to Beth and John from that very first phone call, but I felt an immediate connection. I felt a current of excitement between the three of us immediately. Beth and John started to ask questions about how I was feeling, what my likes and dislikes were now that I was pregnant. I told them about my recent cravings for Crab Rangoon, how during the really ferocious bouts of “morning” sickness my coworkers were bringing me french fries since they seemed to stay down better. I got a sense that Beth and John were happy that I had people in my corner. I told them about feeling the baby, and I could tell they were as excited as I was! I asked about what they do for a living, what preparations they had made, and without me asking they told me about the journey that brought them to adoption.

Rob stayed quiet during the first excited exchanges and then he cleared his throat and said “I have some questions I would like to ask.”

Hmmm, this was news to me.

“What religion are you people?” Rob said.

“We’re Catholic,” John said.

“I guess that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to give my baby to a Satanist or anything” He said.

Nervous laughter erupted from me, and I could tell it sounded off, but frankly, this was as unexpected to me as it probably was to Beth and John.

“I’m Mormon, so Religion is very important to me.” Rob announced.

In truth, Rob was raised Seventh Day Adventist and in college became LDS when he met his wife, well now ex-wife. He was a non-practicing LDS, early on in our relationship I had helped him burn his garments and other things that he was not allowed to wear because of his current Church status. I was a Christian Mutt, raised Episcopal, went to a Catholic School, and attending a Methodist Church – never during the course of our relationship was religion ever an issue – I was shocked to hear it was an issue today.

Rob asked more questions about their educational backgrounds, their relationship, and their family medical history. At this point the Rob was asking questions and John was answering them and I felt like a tub of cold water had been thrown on me. I knew about their education backgrounds and their relationship, all of the questions that Rob asked were in their profile. I also though asking about their medical histories was kind of funny because that was really something we brought to the table more than the adoptive parents.

Finally, Rob seemed out of questions and there was a pause.

“Would you like to exchange email addresses?” Beth asked softly.

“No thanks, have a good evening,” Rob said and hung up.

“I would!” I said at the same time, and then repeated it after Rob hung up, “I would really like that Beth.”

So we exchanged email addresses and said our good-byes. I hung up the phone feeling happy and hopeful.

I left Rob’s house that night a few minutes later. I had nothing to say about his interrogation, because I tried to remind myself that what we needed to feel confident in our decision was different and as long as he felt comfortable and at ease with our decision, it should ultimately make the whole process easier on all parties involved and who was I to say what should be important to him in this process?

I am always thrilled when the holidays arrive and I am relieved to see them go. This year the holidays were bittersweet. Surrounded by family on Christmas day things seemed very normal, until I had a bout of morning sickness after some smoked salmon. My Dad teased me that it was a waste of perfectly good salmon, but I saw a touch of sadness in his eyes. My sickness had been a reminder of the baby, and the inevitable good-bye, that would follow the baby’s birth.

Most of my Christmas presents were not under the tree, my Mom took me shopping for maternity clothes. She bought me several dresses to wear to work and a few casual outfits. I saw the look on her face when I stepped out of the dressing room the first time, there was a fleeting moment of surprise when she realized that under baggy winter clothes there was a visible bump that told of the baby. In maternity clothes, there was no denying I was pregnant. That realization was a bit surprising for me too, and so after the shopping trip I retreated back to the comfort of my jeans and sweater that helped make me look “fluffy” perhaps but helped protect me and my baby from prying eyes. However, arms full of bags my Mom told me how beautiful I looked in my new clothes and she seemed so genuinely happy that I couldn’t help but feel hopeful too.

I spent most of the week off work, visiting with my parents or quietly at home. I’ve never been a big one for New Year’s Eve celebrations, but something about pregnancy made me more tired than usual and I was having a hard time staying awake until ten o’clock on nights that Law & Order was on so I didn’t plan to try to stay awake to midnight. I treated myself to two orders of Crab Rangoon from the takeout place around the corner and tucked in to watch what I could of the festivities on tv. (Crab Rangoon had been my first real craving, I could eat it happily for three meals a day but I was unconvinced that it had any kind of real nutritional value so I tried to behave myself.) I don’t even remember what time I fell asleep.

For me all of the hustle and bustle of the holidays were almost completely eclipsed when I felt the baby kick two days into the new year. I think I had felt it before, I wasn’t really sure what it was. A little movement inside, a quick poke, a nudge, it’s hard to explain but when I realized what the feeling was I laughed out loud!

“So there you are!” I said out loud to the baby, and pressed my hand against my stomach hoping to feel it again.

The thump of the kicking was intermittent at best, but there it was. I wanted to tell someone, but after a few moments of standing there with the phone in my hand I put it back down. Rob was celebrating the holidays with Emily, so I wasn’t going to call him. I couldn’t bring myself to call my parents, I wasn’t sure if this was a milestone they would celebrate or mourn. I wished that I knew the adoptive parents to tell them but I didn’t know what I would say – “hello, the baby is kicking, our baby, your baby?” what was the etiquette.

In my mind I went over a list of people I could call, but a little kick reminded me that I was sharing this moment with someone, it was the two of us – me and the baby, what an amazing miracle to be a part of.

I don’t think that there’s ever a good time or a good way to tell your parents that you’re pregnant, but I have to tell you before you read any further – the way I handled it was probably the worst way to go about it. It’s not any easier when you are in your 20′s than I imagine it would be when you are in your teens. The only comforting thought was that I could retreat to my own apartment when it was over instead of us all being in the same house, having to face each other over and over again every day.

It was a 20 minute drive from my apartment to my parents’ house and the whole way there I ran through different scenarios. I tried to picture what I would say and how they would react. The reactions I imagined ranged from tears to outrage. My heart was fluttering wildly and that “morning sickness” (that for me was all day sickness) seemed closer to the surface that usual. I blame my nervousness entirely on what happened next.

As soon as my Mom let me in the house, I followed her to the living room, plopped down on the sofa and in one breath I made my announcement, “I am pregnant, I’m placing my baby for adoption and while I don’t need your financial support, I would appreciate your emotional support.”

I cringed at the awkward way I had made my announcement and I was further upset when I saw the dazed expressions on their faces. I had done this all wrong, I knew it. I was griping the backpack with the profiles in it like I was ready to run screaming from the house at any moment. It was my Dad who recovered first, he blinked his green eyes rapidly and began asking questions.

“Have you seen a doctor yet?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted, and smiled despite myself. My Dad was a hospital administrator, health care was, of course, his first concern.

“Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”

“I drink a glass of orange juice and a glass of milk every day,” I responded.

My Dad gave me a stern look, and I almost laughed despite myself. This is the response I should’ve expected, this was pretty typical of my Dad. This is where the deeply logical part of me comes from.

“We could adopt the baby and raise it,” my Mom said in a quite voice, and despite the fact that my parents raising my child was the last thing I wanted, my heart swelled and I loved her so much for being willing to do that.

“Jane, we would be in our 70′s when this baby graduates high school,” My Dad said very gently.

My Mom frowned and her hazel eyes welled up with tears as she looked at me. “I’m just worried that no one else will know how to raise your baby, just as I haven’t always known how to raise you.” She said.

Tears sprung to my eyes. My Mom and I have always been very different, I tended to take more after my Dad, but I never dreamed that she attributed those differences to some fault with her or how she was raising me. It was like the Earth shifted under my feet as I looked at my Mom with new eyes. I wondered how many bratty teenage fits she blamed herself for, thinking it was some short coming on her part, and it broke my heart.

“Mom,” I choked out between sobs, “you’ve been the best Mom I could ask for.” I said as I hugged her and together we cried. We cried for things that had apparently gone unspoken between us for too long, for the baby that we would welcome into the world and then have to say goodbye to. We cried for each other, both of us imagining the heartbreak that laid ahead, not for ourselves but for the other one. Even my Dad’s eyes welled with tears. When we were all cried out, we discussed things calmly and rationally.

My Dad was adamant that I needed to call and make a Doctor’s appointment first thing on Monday, and I promised I would. When I told them about the meeting with Mary from the Attorney’s office, my Mom said she would be there to offer her guidance and support. These were the easy things to sort out, more complicated was who else would we tell?

On both sides of my family I had cousins who were currently involved in the adoption process, trying to adopt, so we decided not to tell our family, beyond our family immediate circle. I wasn’t comfortable having my baby go somewhere so close to home, where I would be involved in the baby’s life but expected not to be overly involved. I didn’t want them to feel rejected that I wasn’t considering them but I didn’t want to be pressured by them either, keeping the pregnancy quiet was probably safer.

I carefully fanned out the profiles and let my parents review them. I didn’t say a word, as I didn’t want my feelings or thoughts to shade theirs. After reading all of them my Mom looked up at me very seriously.

“You are 100% sure, that you want to place this child for adoption,” she asked and after I nodded at her she continued, “because I can’t imagine any greater heartbreak than to tell someone you’re giving them a child and then to take that away from them.”

“I’m sure Mom, I want something more for my baby then what I can give it right now.” I said and she sensed the sincerity in what I was saying.

My Mom and I put our heads together to go over the profiles again. My Dad restlessly excused himself, he said he was going to get the names of some doctors. I sensed what he couldn’t say, that putting this baby up for adoption was going to be harder on him than he was was going to be able to say.

My Mom narrowed the profiles down to three, my top two were in her three. I explained my concerns about the cat allergy to her and so we eliminated one of her three. Like me, once we were down to the same two she felt a pull towards one couple over the other. There are really no words to say why, but I felt more confident in my decision with my Mom and I on the same page.

When I left, I had the other profiles in my bag but I kept out Beth and John to look at over and over again, they were the parents I told myself as I flipped through the profile, MY adoptive parents. I looked at the house and I imagined my baby (sometimes a little boy, sometimes a little girl) sitting at the table and playing in the living room.