Tag Archives: Adoption

Facebook + E-mail = A Lifetime of Love

21 Mar

J posted this picture today and I immediately fell in love with it. People can say what they like about technology and how it’s taking over or how it’s bad for us, but I’m loving it because I can get on my computer and find things like this. I honestly don’t think I can convey how in love I am with this picture. So much is contained in it – how happy you look, how much Sports Man loves you, what it has truly done for you to have a brother…it’s beautiful to me. Like I said – what makes you happy makes me happy.

I know that I’ve told you multiple times that J always sends me pictures and E always sends me videos, but it means so much to me that they do. Even if it’s on Facebook for all of our friends to see or sent to me in a private e-mail, I just love getting so see or hear about what you’re up to. They update me constantly with the goings on of your life. It’s even better because I know they don’t do it because they feel obligated – they do it because they want to share your life with me. They want me to watch you grow up and do cute things. Even if it’s not entirely about you, I just like hearing from them period. I feel so blessed to have become such good friends with the family I chose. A family that I consider my family now.

I remember being so worried, when I was pregnant and considering adoption, that I would miss so much. Your first steps, first words, all of the other adorable things babies do when they’re growing up…I was so afraid I would miss them all or hear about them way after the fact. Happily, I got very lucky with The B’s. I see you so often I don’t feel like I miss anything. And when I’m not around, I get pictures and videos and text messages and e-mails. I don’t feel like I’ve missed a thing and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I think that’s a good tip for potential or actual adoptive parents who have relationships with the birth mother: the smallest things about you – what you’re doing, the things you like, silly things you do – are things that’d we’d love to see or hear about. A picture here and there, a small update on how your favorite food has changed from grilled cheese to hot dogs, anything at all…just knowing about it or seeing it can make our day. All birth mothers love their children – it’s why we choose adoption. I understand that it may be more difficult for some to deal with than others, and without The B’s, I know it would have been even more difficult for me. They have made adoption so much easier than it could have been. They have made it so easy for me to show you how much I love you, and for that, I owe them everything.

I’ve decided I’m just going to love them forever. Hopefully a lifetime of friendship and caring and love will be a good place to start :)

Tags: , , , , , , ,

The World’s Most Boring Child Birthing Classes

3 Mar

 I started thinking about adoption a couple of weeks after I discovered you. It seemed logical – I could give you to a family that could provide for you and since I was choosing open adoption, I’d get to see you often. Very logical. I was doing what was best and it would be difficult, but not too hard. I’d still get to see you, and since it was what was best, even when I was sad, that knowledge would be able to help me sleep at night.

 I actually managed to continue that thought process for a couple of months, until I started my child birthing classes at the local hospital. I scheduled them every Sunday so that C could attend, but in the end, he decided it was too hard for him. Either Pop-Pop 3, Grandma M or Aunt S would accompany me to my classes.

 I hated those classes.

 Well, that’s not entirely true. The information I learned was incredibly valuable, and for that reason, I’m glad I went. I learned all about the birthing process and what to expect when it came time for delivery. I learned about you and what you would be doing for my last trimester. I learned that the really weird cramping and hardening of my stomach wasn’t you rolling around, but that they were Braxton Hicks contractions. I learned about the stages of labor and things I could do during labor to ease the stress on myself, therefore easing the stress on you. I was out buying books and pregnancy within the week I found out about you, so being the knowledge nerd that I am, all of this info from the classes was really interesting to me.

 But other than that the class was so…boring. I don’t think any of the other couples in that class knew what the word “fun” meant. Aunt S and I would make jokes and try to have fun and we’d get looks from the other couples like they couldn’t believe we were attempting to enjoy the classes – these classes were obviously serious business and we obviously weren’t taking the classes seriously enough. I know…I’m one of those weirdos who thinks learning can be fun. Go figure.

 But what the child birthing classes did do was make the reality of you…well, real. We would talk about what the babies would look like within the first couple of days – red, puffy faces, cone heads, maybe even a little yellow. We talked about changing diapers, how babies liked to be swaddled, how to stop babies from crying…and I realized that I wouldn’t get to do any of this. I would see you in your red, puffy face stage and then you’d disappear.

 My logic went out the window, and I suppose it was about time. Situations like ours can’t be ruled by logic and logic alone – it’s very emotional. The bond between a mother and her child is all about love – we never say “I love my child because I should and he or she needs me to.” We just do. It’s natural, it’s innate and it’s more powerful than anything you’ve ever imagined. And during those classes I was overwhelmed with the idea that despite that powerful love, I was going to let you go.

 This was before I met The B’s. During these classes, your “future family” was an unknown entity to me, making this reality even scarier. Parting with you seemed to get more impossible with each passing day. I hated the classes for that, too. Because even though I love the you inside me, I was starting to dream about the you when you finally came out – who you would be, what you would look like, how I could care for you. It hurt my heart to think about because I realized that when the real you showed up, so would your adoption. The two were not mutually exclusive – with one, came the other. And my problem was that I only wanted one – you.

 Towards the end of my pregnancy, every night as I went to sleep, I would hold my stomach and feel you kick and I would thank you, for spending one more night with me. I did this every night for the last month. I said it the night before I went into labor – “Thank you for staying with me for one more night.”

 Of course, it’s all turned out better than I could have imagined. The B’s were only too happy to let me have my diaper changing experiences and to see you past your puffy-face-cone-head stage. Every time I went over to their house, they wouldn’t hesitate to hand you to me. They would let me hold you as much as I wanted to. They wanted me to hold you as long as I wanted to. They want me to love you as much as I possibly can, and for that and a multitude of other reasons, I love them.

 But those child birthing classes taught me that logic only goes so far, and then comes love. And love tends to bring the logic-house down. Our journey was an emotional one – one where even though I was told I shouldn’t get too attached to you if I was planning on adoption, I couldn’t help it and wouldn’t have if I could’ve. One where I was told I shouldn’t keep you in the room with me at the hospital because it would make it easier but there wasn’t a person in the world who could have removed you from my sight or my arms.

 And you have been more than worth it – every emotional up and down, every sad day and every happy day, every tear shed before and after your adoption (there were a lot, although some we could probably attribute to pregnancy hormones) were beyond worth it, because out of all of it, I got you. And through you, I got The B’s. And from all of you, I got everything I’ll ever need.

 I just think that next time, I’ll pick a livelier bunch to spend my Sunday afternoons with.

Tags: , , , , ,

Finding The B’s

1 Mar

I have always loved The B’s. From the day I met them – actually, from the day I read their profile – I knew they would be amazing parents. I remember the day I found their profile – I had gone to the adoption agency for another meeting with my adoption counselor, and as soon as I walked in, she handed me a huge stack of profiles that she had picked out based on what I said I was looking for in an adoptive family.

 I was there for hours. I analyzed every little thing about those profiles, from the pictures and where I thought they had been taken, to the actual information, to the wording of some of the things the families wrote. I actually discarded a family because they said, “We’d be happy to have you in your child’s life, but if you’d rather not, that will still be okay.” To the outside observer, it sounds respectful and looking back on it, I’m sure that’s all they meant. But to a women looking for people to parent the love of her life, it sounded like a veiled attempt at saying, “We’d prefer if you just kind of disappear after this whole thing.” I know it’s silly, but that’s how incredibly intense I felt that day.

 I was suddenly overwhelmed with the hugeness of what I was doing. I knew that I would have to pick a family for you. But these people were going to raise you. You were going to grow up with their values, surrounded by their family, learning their way of life. These people were going to impact you for the rest of forever. When you grew up, you would be the person you were because of them. Which, in a roundabout way, meant that who you were going to be depended on me  and who I chose. Talk about your massive life decisions.

 The B’s profile was towards the bottom of the stack, not the last but a few profiles away from it. I looked at theirs the longest. I had seen their profile online before – Grandma M had looked them up on Bethany’s website and shown them to me briefly a month or two earlier. They were the only ones with a hardback book-type profile, in a really pretty green color – J’s creative genius at work again. It was beautiful, from the pictures to what they said in it…all about them and their family and how much they loved their son and all the fun things they liked to do. And also, how much they wanted to love me. How much they wanted me involved.

 My counselor told me that when I found a family I liked, I could tell her and put them “on hold.” I finished with their profile, handed it to her and said, “I want them. I want to put them on hold.” She looked at me a little stunned and suggested I finish with the profiles and maybe take a few days to think about them, even take a few of them home. I flipped through the ones underneath The B’s but sadly and perhaps unfairly, I didn’t truly read them. My mind was somewhere else, with a beautiful family and their green, hardback book.

 The B’s profile was the only one I took with me. I showed it to the woman at the main desk in the agency and told her I had put them on hold. I immediately drove to Grandma M’s work and showed her. I called C on the way and told him we had to meet up soon because I had something to show him. When I got to Grandma M’s work, I called the agency to double-check that The B’s were mine. They were – they were officially “reserved” and we’ve belonged to each other ever since.

 I couldn’t be happier. The day after your adoption was official, they came back to my parent’s house and stayed the night so I could spend a little more time with you. J took pictures of all of us outside the next day (my chubby, post-pregnancy face is absolutely ravishing, by the way) and they made a get-together date for a couple of weeks later so I’d know when I was going to see you again. I remember seeing E outside the adoption agency right before the adoption ceremony – he came right up to me and gave the biggest hug I’ve ever gotten. They felt just as lucky to have you as I felt for you to have them.

 But one thing they promised me was that you would always know how much I loved you. They said they would never let you forget it. So on the days I can’t tell you in person or write to you about it here, I still feel confident that you know it, that someone is telling you. But I also want them to know how much I love them – I’m sure that they know, but I’m not sure if they understand the intensity behind it. I love them as I love you, because they are one in the same now. And everyday you do something cute or funny or beyond your years, I fall more in love with every single one of you.

Tags: , , ,

The Worst Ten Days and the Best Nineteen Months

25 Feb

Every state has different policies when it comes to adoption. You were born in North Carolina, and they have a policy called the “revocation period.” It states that from the day the birth mother signs the adoption papers, she has seven business days to change her mind. In my case, I had ten days because I signed papers on a Saturday, and they couldn’t go into effect until Monday.

That policy was torture. Those were the worst 10 days of my life.

For those 10 days, you stayed with what the agency called an “interim care mother” – basically, a foster-mother who cares for infants during that seven-day period if the adoptive family chooses that option. The B’s wanted you to be a surprise for Sports Man and having dealt with a few failed adoptions themselves, they wanted to make sure everything was official before introducing you to your new brother.

It was a smart idea.

I spent those ten days making the world’s most comprehensive pro and con lists. I spent them looking over my finances with my mom and dad to see if I could afford to keep you. I ran every scenario through my head a million times – what I would do if I took you back, what I would do if I went through with the adoption, how The B’s would handle both scenarios. I saw a therapist. I talked it over with my parents every single day, getting their input – they never told me what to do because they knew it could only be my decision, but they were a wonderful sounding board. I went back and forth every single day of those 10 days. I didn’t think of anything else but you, trying to find a way that I could keep you and still give you everything I knew The B’s would give you.

It was agonizing. I know the policy is in place for good reason. All girls deserve a chance to change their minds, and I completely understand why they would. I almost did. I almost changed my mind every day. I would wake up and feel confident about adoption and go to bed that night, determined to bring you home to me. Two different scenarios, two different decisions constantly pulling me in two different directions. It’s difficult to describe, but I imagine if I were to be ripped in half, it would feel something like that. I knew that if I went through with adoption, you would be like a sort of phantom limb – an essential part of a person, felt even in its absence. Something so real, so necessary that you’re sure it’s there until you look down and realize it’s not. Having to deal with that disappointment over and over again…I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle that.

But in the end, it wasn’t about me. I wasn’t about what I would go through, or what being without you would do to me. It was about you and what was best for you. Grandma M asked me during one of those days what specifically I thought I needed to be good enough to keep you. I jokingly answered, “To be 10 years older, in a stable relationship with a college degree and high-paying job.” But it wasn’t a joke, really. I wanted to be the kind of parent who could give you everything, who would be able to make sure you never had to worry, who could provide you with everything I  thought you deserved. And eventually I realized that I could. By placing you with The B’s, I could give you everything, I could make sure you never had to worry, I could provide you with everything I thought you deserved. It was all right there, in their family.

People ask me all the time if I think I made the right decision, and my answer is an instantaneous “yes.” I don’t even have to think about it, probably because I did enough thinking in those 10 days to last a lifetime. You – your life – was not a snap judgment. It was not an easy choice, or an instant decision. You deserved the best and I wanted to make sure you got it. And now, I truly believe you have it.

Actually, I think we both have it. The past 19 months have certainly been proof of that. And every time I see you with The B’s – in a picture, in a video, in real life – makes all of that indecision feel small and far away. The love we all share has turned those ten days from a gaping wound to a small scar. And that’s the beauty in the breakdown, I suppose – that despite all of the pain and confusion, we actually managed to find the kind of love that not only heals broken hearts, but builds stronger ones.

Tags: , , , , , ,

The Business of Being a Brother

15 Feb

 Your biological dad, C, has two adopted siblings. He’s the oldest – he has a younger sister and a younger brother, both of whom were adopted by his parents. When C and I dated, I got to know his siblings pretty well. They’re both great kids – actually, C is about six years older than his little brother, just like you and Sports Man.

 After I had been working with my adoption agency for a while, Bethany Christian Services, they had me go through “prospective family profiles.” Moms and dads who were looking for a little one to bring home would put together “books” that would tell birthmothers a little bit about themselves. The B’s had the coolest book by far (I still have it), but one of the many reasons I chose them was actually your big brother, Sports Man.

 When I was first considering adoption, I thought that if I went through with it, I wanted you to go to a family that had no kids. I thought that a couple without kids would appreciate you more since you’d be their “first.”

 But then one day, my dad – you call him Pop-Pop 3 – made an offhanded comment about couples who already had a child. He said, “If a couple already has a child and he or she is still alive, I’d say that’s a pretty good track record.” I found it humorous, but the more I thought about it, the more truth I found in it.

 I always wished I’d had a sibling. I thought it would be fun to grow up with someone, to have someone to share secrets with or play games with, someone who would always stick up for you and have your back, someone who would never judge you too harshly, who would always be there for you – I thought it would be like having a built-in best friend. Of course, never actually having a sibling, my idea of one is rather idealized; I know siblings get annoyed with one another and fight and call each other names. But I figured the days when you’re each other’s best friend would make the rest of it worth it.

 I picked The B’s to be your family for many other reasons that I’ll tell you about some day, but the fact that you would have a big brother was definitely one of them. It was comforting for me to know that you would always have a playmate, a “partner in crime,” someone a little closer to your age who could teach you the fun stuff about being a kid. And if anyone knows about fun kid stuff, it’s Sports Man.

 Sports Man has his name for a reason – he is a sports encyclopedia. He knows stats for every NFL or NBA team. He knows who plays what positions now, who played them in the past, how many winning seasons each team has, how tall every NBA player is, how many yards every NFL player has, the history of Super Bowl wins…I am astounded by his intellect most of the time. Maybe even a little intimidated. We met him when he was six and now at eight years old, he’s only gotten cooler. He loves to play games and learn things, and most of all, he loves to do those things with you.

 And he was so, so excited to get you as a younger brother. J and E told me all about how, before he even knew about you, he would go on and on about the things he wanted to teach his little brother or sister, or the games he would play with him or her when he finally got a younger sibling. The same August your adoption became official, Sports Man had to go back to school and he cried on his first day because he didn’t want to leave you. So on the days that you two fight or get annoyed with each other, just remember – you were a dream come true to him.

 And even more than that, Sports Man was a dream come true for me. It made me feel like I could truly give you absolutely everything by placing you with The B’s. As if J and E weren’t blessing enough, I got to give you something I never had. And Sports Man is a gift to me because he is a gift to you – you love him to pieces. You follow him around and play with his toys and you want to do the things he does. Sometimes, he is the only one who can make you smile. I’ve seen him make you laugh when you’re in the middle of crying. He loves you and you love him and one day, I hope that you’ll be the closest of friends. Grown men who come home for Thanksgiving and joke about the “younger days.”

 And not only that but I got siblings out of this deal too. I got a brother in E, and I finally got the sister I’d always wanted in J. While I may not have grown up with them, I tell my secrets to J. We go shopping together and go to lunch together and talk about the future together. She is on my speed dial and we talk frequently in between visits. I swap music with E. We have our morning routine of coffee and chit chat whenever I come to your house for a weekend. He send me cute, e-mail videos of you. I share stories and joy and laughter with both of them. I love them and they, like you, are my gift.

 I suppose this means that Pop-Pop 3 does have some wisdom in him after all ;)

The first time Sports Man met you at your adoption ceremony :)

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Newer Entries →