My Story- Part 3 – Dear Universe, how about you take care of this!

Paper work, Paper work and MORE paper work. All the adoption paperwork was beyond daunting. We had to fill out paperwork on what kind of child we would accept. Could the child be bi-racial – OK, Alaskan – OK. Could the child have major brain dysfunction? Could the child have a history of sexual abuse? Could the child have schizophrenia? Really, these were real questions – that document was 4 pages long, front and back. Nothing like soul searching with “what can we deal with?” It felt really odd, like I can deal with this disease, but not that. The most conflicting part of filling that out was if this child was our biologic child, God doesn’t give me a check list. I felt dirty placing our limitations on paper. We were instructed to be very candid and honest; they don’t want to wait time trying to place the wrong child in the wrong family. It was awful.

Then was the 12 page front and back questionnaire we had to fill out about ourselves. The paper work was nosey; it asked things I would never tell a soul. Violated was how it felt. No one gives a damn if you are a pregnant crack addict; it’s your biologic child. But, try to adopt? Prepare to jump through hoops like one of those little dogs at the circus.

In March, we went to Florida for a great trip. We wanted to relax and have fun. Actually we met another couple trying to adopt. They actually had the potential birth mother living with them. It was different, but they were able to go to all her doctor appointments and share in the pregnancy.

To stay on D’s radar, I sent her a birthday card. A few weeks later she called to see if she could schedule a dinner to meet Jeff. DUH, sister I’ll move heaven and EARTH to meet you. Again, I was looking for the perfect outfit. We decided to meet at Max’s & Erma’s, and by this time Adoption Attorney said it was OK to buy her food, but not a new car. I was pretty happy to get that clarification. Phew, I’d hate her chicken fingers to be the reason we could not adopt. ANYWAY, we were all nervous, Jeff and I debated on the way over, “Do we order a beer, or will be come off as a bunch of drunks?” Needless to say, we both did order a beer. Dinner went well, D and Jeff hit it off, and again it was so very natural. Great, now tell us we can be the adoptive parents. We discussed open adoption and all that, tell us. Commit. DO IT. Nope, instead we got this bombshell, “Well, Boyfriend (not baby daddy) thinks we could parent. So, we might. But, I’ll still not sure.” Heart drops to feet, all air sucked out of my chest. I plaster on a smile and say, “Wow, OK. That might be tough, but it is your decision. However, we are still going through the adoption home study process.” My head is spinning as I try to breathe and get through dinner.

Obviously that did not go as planned. And YES it totally sucked. However, I still sent her a card thanking her for the visit, etc, etc, keeping us on the radar. Blah, blah. Damn.

Ah, it’s a nice Saturday; I go to yoga as always. Of course another PG lady is in class – really I think part of my yoga was learning how to accept reality. Anyway, this class was great. We had a minor discussion about being in the right place at the right time to hear something or experience something. To this day, I swear yoga lady used a “fancy” term, but I cannot recall. That stuck with me. For instance, seeing the Yoga Van on that 4^th of July, had we not have gone to the parade, would I have ever found the studio? The Bible study Jeff’s Dad and Step-Mom attended, had they not gone, would we even have found out about D? Destiny? Fate? God’s will? Hmm…. Very thought provoking, to say the least.

April came around, and so did another D contact. She and I met, she was still very whishy washy about parenting, versus adoption. But, it sounded like she was just plain not sure. She had not gotten any baby stuff, no baby shower, just nothing. All of us were in a limbo. She was the only one who could make this decision, my place was to be supportive and be myself. If she wanted to parent, that is her choice. Of course, I had to bring up being on assistance and such. I was simply honest, blatantly honest, but with Jeff and I – 2 stable people, we can provide for the child. Oh, and she told me she found out the sex of the baby, did I want to know? Yes, I did. It would be a boy. I might have a son, maybe.

After this meeting I started a nightly prayer. My nightly prayer went like this (don’t laugh, after 12 years of Catholic schooling – this is how I talk to the man upstairs):

Dear God- Please help me increase my patience in a situation I cannot control. Please help D make the best decision for her and her baby whatever that might be. Amen.

I needed patience to understand it was her decision, then I could pray she makes the right decision for her AND the baby. I kept this a nightly prayer and also while doing savasana in yoga (savasana occurs at the end of yoga when you allow your mind and body to rest/relax – my body relaxes, but not my mind) I would send thoughts to D and her baby.

Jeff and I were still going through our adoption hoops. I had created a fire escape plan from EVERY room in our house, had the Fire Marshall inspect out house with 5 smoke detectors all with Carbon Monoxide detectors, and we were now proud owners of a fire ladder (Hi- yeah anyone with biologic kids have to do that? As if the hospital cared YOU had smoke detectors or a fire ladder. No Fire Marshall at you house, huh? You must not love your children as much as we love the IDEA of a child… Just Kidding, please hold the hate mail!!!!). We got finger printed downtown, oh and we had to worry about if our awesome (child-eating) Dobermans would cause us to fail a home study. With a majority of our paperwork concluded, it was now May; time to sign up for our adoption classes. Unfortunately for me, the first weekend conflicted with a trip to New York I planned with my Mom. Sorry, not canceling my trip to NYC to sit in a room. With a little flexibility (which the agency we worked with had SO little), it was agreed I could make up my class. So, Jeff had to face it alone.

Jeff called me after class and was talking about positive adoption language (see Sept blog archive for more on that), and thinking positive in general. I took an afternoon to myself in New York to walk around 5^th avenue. Funny, I eventually found myself at FAO Schwartz. Nice way to torture yourself Kim. But, Jeff’s passed down advice kept looping in my head – Think Positive- You will be a PARENT. OK, let’s try. I sauntered around for about an hour and revisited the baby section. Everything was all cozy and cute. But, boy I did feel out of place. I kept waiting for a guard to come up to me and go, “Excuse me lady, you are an infertile with an adoption falling apart – you don’t belong here.” I felt like I was Hester Prynn, but instead of wear the scarlet letter “A” – it was an “I.” I happened upon a cute little monkey, just a little FAO special stuffed animal. I decided to purchase that little guy.

When I brought him home, little Monkey became our beacon of hope. I told Jeff, if baby comes home with us or if D chooses to parent, this Monkey is his. From that day forward, Monkey slept in the bed with us. Strangely it was really comforting to us both.

Mid-May we were invited to D’s parents house for dinner. Again, I am willing to clear my schedule to get us in. More face time the better, was my thought. We had a nice dinner, meeting D’s Mom, step-dad and little brother and sister. D shared with us ultra-sound pictures. All of us just took time to get to know one another. After we left, D’s little sister confided that, if D decided on adoption, she hoped we would be the family. We hoped and prayed for that as well. D was due in about 2 months and still had not made a decision. She had graduation coming up, and was still with Boyfriend. OH, BIG ASIDE – Boyfriend’s brother got a 16 year old pregnant- they were planning on parenting. NOT HELPING MY CAUSE!!!

--June 2008---

Now, remember earlier when yoga lady brought up the whole being in the right place at the right time? One Saturday I happened upon the PERFECT yoga class. No other class had I been to was meant for me more than this one. It began as any other class, we started with basic warm-ups. Eventually we got to Mountain (I was standing for those non-yoga readers). We placed our arms above our heads (shoulder blades of course placed firmly on the back – good yoga posture), then did the simplest thing. I tilted my fingers forward, then to tilted them backwards. We were opening ourselves to the Universe, letting go. Swaha, (pronounced Ss-WAAAA-HAAAA) I think she called it. The basic, I cannot handle this anymore, here Universe YOU DEAL WITH IT. In my mind, I focused on D’s decision before her. I made a decision that I’m done, it’s up to you and the universe. I have done all I can do, it’s out of my hands. Instantly, a huge weight lifted from me. I was light and alive. I think I just found Kim again…

It seems like after that day things moved very quickly. We were asked to dinner by D’s Mom to meet her Grandma, and Aunt and Uncle. Again, this meeting was great, we all hit it off. I remember D’s Grandma coming up to me and saying, “You are doing such a good thing for my Granddaughter. You are saving her life.” I responded, “No, she is saving us and making us a family. For that I could never ever repay her.” So, did that little conversation mean D made a decision? Nope, but her Grandmother was hoping. Jeff and I both agreed that D’s Grandma reminded us of my Gramma. That was very comforting and we took that as a good sign.

The next day we received an update that D went to the hospital that evening with Braxton-Hicks contractions. Apparently, the situation and lack of a plan for her child freaked her out. I waited a few days, and then sent a text that I hoped all was well. I received a text back that she had planned on calling me and that we should meet. We agreed to meet the next Sunday for breakfast – Sunday was also Father’s Day.

I’m not a big IHOP person (sorry IHOP- I’m really not into breakfast as a whole), but 8 months pregnant D was craving it. OK, here we go again. As always the conversation began with small talk. Then came this, “I’m not sure how to tell you something, but I need to.” Me: “Ok. Just say it.” D: “Do you have a doctor?” Me: “huh?” D: “You know a baby doctor.” Me: “No, but I know how to get one.” D: “Do you have a car seat?” Me: “No, but I know where to find one. What are you trying to tell me?” D: “This baby will not be coming home with me. I’d like him to go home with you.”

Seriously, in IHOP, I get the biggest news of my life. Did I mention how much I LOVE IHOP? So, I try to remain calm and cool as internal Kim is doing the cabbage patch and other great 1980’s dances in my head in celebration. Calm, I’m the adult, I’m calm.

We proceed to discuss that she has been getting counseling via an adoption agency, turns out the SAME agency we were working with for our home study. [Aside here, I called the agency the next day, they now considered us a “matched” adoption – so what you ask? That means we had to pay for the counseling. I was slightly ticked off and it was EXPENSIVE. But, if she places, it would be the BEST Hawaiian vacation I ever bought for someone else. Now back to the story.] Apparently, for MONTHS this counselor had been telling D not to get our hopes up, until she was 100% with her decision. This counselor also kept showing D other prospective parent Birth Mother Letters. But, her hospital visit scared her enough to make a decision.

After our visit, we decide to go to Toys-R-Us. She and I prowl the baby section, ain’t no scarlet letter “I” on me today- I’m with my Potential Birth Mom! Woo-hoo! Do a DANCE!!! We pick out bottles, pacifiers and decided to get What to Expect for Baby’s First Year. We agree that if she decides to parent, I will give these items to her. She tells me, she will not change her mind. Sorry, but I can’t place all my eggs in that basket yet. My guard was still up; we’ve been though enough heartache, I cannot do it again. When we separate, I run to a book store to get a book on baby names. I drive home without saying a WORD to Jeff. Now that was hard.

I arrive home, go in the house and ask Jeff to get the stuff from the trunk. Silently, I follow him out. He looks at the bags and sees the bottles, he asks, “Why do you have these?” I recap the story from IHOP and conclude with “Looks like we might be parents in a few weeks.” We stand there in our driveway hugging and crying in a mini-celebration. On lookers must have thought we were nuts. Pretty Good Father’s Day present, huh?

We agree to keep things hush, hush. We shared our news that day with Jeff’s Dad and step-Mom, since they were the ones who did the initial contact. We secretly told the rest of our parents, then by mid-July all close family and friends knew. Things were kept pretty quiet as nothing would be 100% until 3 days after his birth and parental rights were terminated.

Nuts, I still have to make up that adoption class, make update 7-19-2008.

To prepare for our arrival (but not too much), we got the basics. A pack-n-play, diapers, wipes, a few onesies, blankets a few burb clothes, and I started researching about babies. Everything stayed in its box or packaging, you know incase we had to return it all. I was not about to have a boat load of baby stuff around and no baby to use it.

The evening of 7-17-2008, started off normal enough, Jimmy Buffet was playing at Riverbend. Jeff and I decided to listen to the concert, drink some beer and play some cards. Around 7:30 I got a text “I don’t feel well, I’m going to the hospital.” I respond back with “Should we come.” Response: “No. I will let you know.” Two beers now sat un-drank on our patio table. The laptop was quietly closed. Jeff and I stared at each other tingling excitement. This is real; she might be having a baby soon. Wooow. Like many prospective adoptive parents we sat and stared at my cell phone, for hours. Too nervous to watch TV, too nervous to play cards, too nervous for anything, except staring at that phone. Eventually around 12am we get the next text, “The nurse broke my water, they are admitting me. The nurse says you should come now.”

Jeff was so nervous he turned the wrong way out of our sub-division. We basically traveled in silence, too scared to realize what was about to happen. We were either going to meet our son, or we were leaving a hospital devastated. Jeff’s Mom met us at the hospital, we all checked in at 1:37am. We made our way to D’s room, met Boyfriend and D’s mom was there as well. It was a full house. REALLLLLYYYY LOOOOONNGGG labor short, a little boy was born. He was brought into a world full or drama and emotions. While his birth mother was laboring, his birth father was talking to Jeff’s Mom. Boyfriend was ticked off he was kicked out of the room during labor (we had left as well) he punched a wall and stormed out of the hospital. Jeff and I stood outside her room, waiting to hear a baby cry. Instead, D’s Mom poked her head out of the door and said “Get in here NOW.” My feet have never moved so quickly. Next thing we know, there was this little boy screaming. Someone was handing scissors to cut the umbilical cord, D’s mom handed them to me – her words, “You do it Momma.” My hands were shaking like a leaf, the cut was made and he was free. The nurses did their thing and D was not ready to see him yet. Jeff and I were able to have a private moment with our son. OUR SON. It was amazing.

People flooded in and out of D’s room. Eventually she held him, as did his birth father. Next thing I see is Boyfriend coming in with HIS mom. This is not good. They are NOT pro-adoption. There they were talking to D. “You can keep this baby; I had “Boyfriend” at 16. You’re 19, plenty old enough to have a baby.” A primal urge to go over and smack this lady overcame me. But, you know what? D said, “I have a plan for my son. My plan is to give him everything he needs.” God Bless her for sticking to her guns.

The next 3 days were long, but it was important to be to give D her space. It was her turn to be Mom. I was more than willing to give her 3 days of being Mom; I would have this little man for a lifetime. He was born on a Friday, and Monday is when she could sign the termination papers. Funny note, on Saturday I finished my adoption classes. Early Monday morning, my phone beeped. I received a text from D, it went like this….

“I know this is random and at 2am. But, I am scared about tomorrow. It is going to be so hard and I just want you to know, that I could not have picked better parents. Just know that I have never loved anyone as much as I love my son, so please just take good care of him, and let him know that I love him every day!”

The next day our son came home with his forever parents. --

Phew- that was LOOONNGGGGG-- Thanks for following this far, this story isn’t over. I don’t hear that lady singing yet.

Part 4 coming soon