Archive for the ‘Reflections’ Category

Dear friends,

I haven’t forgotten you! I’m afraid I fell behind due to a huge deadline at work that was immediately followed by a little illness, (I got a sinus infection,  and I then had an allergy to the antibiotics – yuck!) so I’ve been wiped out. I have a post going up later today.

Sorry for the delay!
Joy!

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.

Aside from the dramatic episodes I’ve shared with you, you know “Baby Daddy Drama” and such, the third trimester of my pregnancy had been relatively uneventful. I go to work, I come home and Ben greets me with a happy dance that makes him look like he’s hopping. Then Ben and I go for a walk in the woods next to the apartment complex, I keep a leash on him at all times (waiting for us to scare up something and for him to decide to take off like a shot) but he seems happiest to walk right next to me with the leash slack. After his walk, we have dinner and then I curl up on the sofa with a book, movie, or TV show and relax. (Before bed Ben gets another shorter walk.) Sometimes there are dinner or outing with friends, sometimes errands, but for the most part – life is quiet and life is good.

I mention this because the other day when I came home, Ben did not meet me at the door. I called him, as I took the leash down and he didn’t come.  My heart started racing and the baby started moving restlessly. I found Ben in the bedroom, his long greyhound snout had what looked like dried slobber on it and his eyes were wide with fear. When I called him, he came to me but as soon as I tried to touch his nose he ran away from me into the corner. I panicked.

I grabbed Ben’s collar and snapped the leash on and we headed for the car. I made it to the vet in record time and when Ben and I burst through the door, either the sight of the wild eyed dog or the heaving pregnant woman caused them to immediately take Ben to the back. I stood there, holding on to the counter breathing deeply.

“Ma’am, it’ll be fine, don’t get too worked up.” the receptionist said in a soothing voice and I could tell she was worried I was going to have my baby right there at the reception desk.

Ben was back before I knew it, and the Vet Tech was smiling. She put a piece of off white plastic in my hand.

“This was stuck in the roof of his mouth, I suspect when you get home you’ll find something chewed on that wasn’t one of his dog toys.” She said smiling.

The piece of plastic looked suspiciously like the rod from my blinds when I said that the vet tech started laughing with me.

On the ride home, with a very tired greyhound stretched across the backseat, I was happy that for that moment that was all the drama life had thrown my way for the moment. Oh sure, I could handle crazy ladies in the book store, and birthfathers who want to change the adoption plan but it was nice to not have to.

I love bookstores, I have always loved to read. I like to keep a stack of three books “to be read” so in case something happens and I can’t get to the bookstore. This means when I go to the bookstore, I can and often do browse for hours.

After work (and running home to take Ben for a walk) I decided I’d run up to the bookstore for a while. I meandered through the store, enjoying reading the back of some books that caught my eye, flipping through a few pages if I was considering buying it. In no time at all, I had a few books I wanted to buy and so I headed over to the children’s area to browse the books there.

I have always loved children’s books! In fact one of my happy memories of Rob was one time when we went to the bookstore and he read “If you Give a Pig a Pancake” outloud to me. Little children started to join me on the floor at his feet as we listened to him read. (He is an excellent reader!) Anyway, full of happy memories and nostalgia I grabbed a book of Jack Prelutsky poetry and then sat down on the floor to read.

So here’s the problem, everything was fine while I was sitting on the floor but when I went to get up I started to struggling. (Apparently this pregnant belly thing is a little more inhibiting than I realized!) Well, after a few tries, I started laughing at my predicament. I didn’t sit close enough to the shelves to help pull myself up and since I was wearing a dress, shifting to my knees and then getting up seemed like a bad idea. The more I considered and discarded options, the harder I laughed.

“Are you stuck?” a pleasant voice asked.

“It looks that way,” I said as I looked at the woman who had come over from another section to see what the ruckus was all about I suppose.

“Would you like a hand up?” she said as she reached her hand out to me.

“Yes thank you,” I said with a grateful smile as I took her hand.

I got to my feet chuckling, and brushing my dress off.

“When are you due?” she asked.

“June 1.”

“I bet you and your husband are very excited,” she said.

“Oh, I’m not married,” I said.

Just like that, everything went wrong. I guess she had realized I wasn’t wearing a ring, maybe when she took my hand to help me up. I heard a sharp intake of air.

“So then you know your baby is an abomination before God,” she said and while I suppose it was a question she delivered it as a statement of fact.

My hand defensively went to my belly, and I felt like her sharp intake of air had been sucking up my air. My eyes narrowed as I regarded her. She was my age, she was wearing “regular” clothes (if not a little more conservative than most people do), even the gold cross around her neck seemed “normal.” There was nothing to tip me off that this person who had been friendly a moment before was going to make such a horrible and hurtful statement.

I thought of at least a dozen come backs ranging from appropriate scripture to cutting remarks, and instead I turned and walked away. She didn’t ask anything about my situation or my plans – she just passed judgment and I realized that her judgment was really all she cared about. I walked with my head up to the front of the store where I checked out and left. There are things that I may not be sure of in this world, but of one thing I am sure – a baby is a blessing, a gift from God, not an abomination. (Now that woman, she might be actually have grown up to be an abomination.)

I emailed Beth about my experience, and my eyes filled with grateful tears when I read her response. Beth assured me that no only was this baby the greatest blessing ever for her and John, she could find dozens of people who agreed with her and who were waiting to meet this little miracle. Again, I was struck by the fact that under different circumstances I think Beth and I would’ve been good friends, I wondered what we would become now, with the circumstances that have brought us together. I guess only time will tell.

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.