Feeling For Him

Day 4:

I am lying on a cot with a baby on my chest.

I feel like I have been in labor for four days straight, and I have finally given birth. I am tired and sore and drained emotionally... And I think I am finally holding my son.

Today was day four. We got to the hospital and spent time with N. and visited the baby in the NICU. We met another family member, which was very intimidating because he was a totally bad mamma jamma and is notoriously protective of miss N. I think we ended up winning him over though, because by the end he was insisting that Tom come to his house to watch the Super Bowl with him and his friends. This might be a word for word description of Tom's worst anxiety nightmare, but I think that is the seal of approval we were all hoping for.

The hospital had baby boy transferred to a different NICU because of over crowding. It felt nerve wracking to see them transport his incubator by ambulance... but I was able to go with him, and they were transporting lower risk babies, so I felt really reassured that he was able to travel.

Before he was transferred one of the NICU nurses was asking me about adoption and my family. A few minutes in to the conversation we made the connection that she was working at the same hospital in New Jersey where Harper was after he was born. There is no way of knowing whether or not she ever cared for him, but it was really neat that these two brothers may have had the same nurse.

The ambulance took us to the new hospital and N. arrived shortly after. We both knew that this was going to be a really hard night, her first night apart from him. It felt so unfair that the baby got sent to the NICU and she was sort of robbed of the time that she should have had with him in her room.

The new hospital was loud, chaotic and in pretty rough shape, but the good part was that the babe had his own private room and one of his mommies is allowed to stay over night with him while he is here.

N. graciously insisted that I be the one to stay overnight, which was the first mom thing I have been able to do. It was very bittersweet knowing that I would be stepping in as mama, probably for the rest of his life.

Passing the torch, so to speak, was another one of those beautiful, sweet, heart wrenching moments that I will never forget, I will always be thankful for, and never want to experience again.

I keep trying to imagine watching another woman hold the baby I built from scratch and carried for the better part of a year, knowing she will get to experience all of the snuggles, and the kisses and the triumphs in my child's life. I try to imagine how I would feel as I sit and watch this just days after my belly had been sliced open, my skin stretched beyond repair, my body forever marred.

I can imagine all the things I might feel: envy, bitterness, sorrow, grief, relief, regret, worry... I don't know if I could smile through my tears and also have the courage and grace to show genuine joy as well as sorrow. I don't know if I could muster it. But, she did. Miss N. This girl who I have come to love as my own rubbed her nose against his and gave him to me.

Day 5:

I spent my first night as an almost-mother of five with this sweet little guy snuggled up to my side. He is such a little fighter.

The pediatrician said that he has to be here at least five more days. We still have no idea what has caused the infection, but he is also not passing his hearing test in one side, and is having some complication with his eyes. I really believe that all of these things are going to be perfectly fine, but I will be very relieved when they just ARE fine.

We have spent the last 24 hours just getting acquainted; our smells, our voices, our touch are all unfamiliar to this baby who will eventually come to know those smells, feelings and sounds as the most familiar things in the world.

There is a strange span of time from when a baby that might be yours is born until the moment somebody officially says he is yours. I am in that span of time now, and I keep catching myself closing my eyes and feeling for him. Not with my hands, but with my heart. I don't even mean to, but it's like my deep subconscious knows I am starting to feel maternal love for something my biology isn't registering as my offspring.

I keep catching myself touching base with my heart, as if I am asking it "do you feel like his mama yet?" I think that in some way I am trying to reassure myself that once I feel like his, than he will really be mine and I can finally breath.

Just saying that feels so selfish in the midst if everything N. has gone through. Because as hard as it is to exist in this in between time where anything could happen, my biggest problem is whether or not I feel enough like a mommy for this baby that I will likely get to keep.

That, my friends, is nothing compared to the one who is closing her eyes and feels nothing BUT him.

And so, my prayer for us all is that when we close our eyes, on purpose or just as a reflex... And we touch base with our hearts, I pray that we find them open and full. And I would pray that when this baby's moms are wondering if they did right or are doing enough, that we can feel him, our son, and he can feel us. But I long for the day when miss N and I touch base with our hearts and, more than anything else, we can feel Him, our God, and are sustained by the grace and peace His promises bring.

The Happy & Crappy of Adoption

Today was, again, a total emotional roller coaster. I always refer to both sides of adoption - the beauty and the tragic separation of mom and baby.

We had our second visit with the the birthmother today, who I am going to call N. for the remainder of the blog. I am tired of figuring out a politically correct term for "lady who had a baby and is planning for you to adopt said baby, but everyone knows that she has a window of time where she can change her mind, in which case she'd just be a mom, you don't need to say birth." Until there is a good word for that, miss N. it is.

Visit #2 happies and crappies:

Happy: This visit was exponentially better than the first one. For starters the social worker actually joined us and was able to facilitate just enough to get conversations going, but not enough to make us feel mediated. Our conversation and rapport is very natural and comfortable. This girl has blown my mind with how kind and respectful and others-focused she is.

Crappy: We did not get to see the baby during this visit. He had been taken to the NICU for IV antibiotics. The infection is either at risk of moving toward the brain, or is possibly already on the brain... But after two unsuccessful spinal taps, they have yet to find answers. When London was sick, I knew how to be there and advocate for her because she was my daughter. It was exhausting and challenging, but my role was clear. It is very difficult to have your child sick in the hospital, when nobody but the child's other mama is acknowledging us as his parents! We have no right to speak with his doctor or ask questions or even be in the room while things are discussed. Even though N. wants us to be involved, we have zero understanding of how to navigate this situation as maybe-parents.

Happy: We got to meet another one of N's family members... and it was still very emotional, but with her there was obvious love and support along with genuine grief. She was not pressuring N. to change her mind, there was no guilt or manipulation. She was accepting of the decision and we spent a good amount of time alone with her, and letting her know us more. She said that this made her feel much better about the adoption.

Crappy: We have found that a lot of people involved (miss N. EXcluded) are confusing adoption with foster care. Some have not understood that adoption would be long term, and others have concerns about whether or not the baby would be properly cared for. Yesterday, the family member said she was just scared because she had heard horrible stories of kids being beaten and even burned. What on earth do you say to that?? We were shocked and horrified that THAT was what we had to address to make her feel at ease.

Happy: We are not criminals, so we could actually reassure her that we will love and care for this baby well. We described all of the fun things we take our kids to do, in Rochester and on our cross country road trips. We described a typical day in our home, which involves neither neglect nor abuse. We also mentioned that we would never burn a child. It made me sick to even have to say that out loud. In the end, she felt very positive and reassured and wants to remain involved.

Crappy: During this discussion, the family member mentioned that she has a box at home that she has been keeping for N. when she had the baby. It is full of diapers and clothes and little things she would need as a young, single mom. She said she still wants to send it for the baby, which is so sweet and should be a happy, but when I pictured her saving away little baby items to make sort of starter kit, I couldn't help but feel like it was just a straight. up. crappy.

Happy: In the exact moment that Tom and I were deciding how often we could realistically afford to travel to New York City to see N., we got a message from a long ago acquaintance who offered us the use of buddy passes available to her as an airline employee, as well as a stay in her Queens apartment if/when we would need. This was such an overwhelmingly generous offer, which would allow us to travel back and forth so cheaply that we can actually agree to all of N's visitation requests!! It felt like more than a happy, it felt like God's perfect providence... and timing!

Crappy: There is still a major piece of the puzzle missing in order for things to move forward. We need the signature of the birthfather. Whether or not he would be willing to sign is still a little wishy washy. Whether he has any real interest in parenting or not, remains uncertain. The not knowing is craptastic.

So, we keep waiting. We head back to the hospital shortly and if I don't get my hands on that baby today, miss N. and I are storming the NICU. I think that the best way to connect as two mom's is to have a good caper on the books.

N. may be discharged today, so I am dreading what this goodbye will look like. I don't know how to do this. I have decided that I love too much for my OWN good, but I think it might be good for her. And as we face a possible goodbye today, I would be lying if I said that I didn't want to adopt her too.

First Meeting

It's very hard to blog about our meeting because it was such a personal experience for everyone involved. As much as my desire is to share my story, my heart, my life... an even stronger desire is to honor the family involved.

So, in vague and general terms... Here is how it all went down. On the car ride we were notified that the baby has some sort of infection and was having a spinal tap done. We know nothing more than this at this time. We are praying it is not any of the scary stuff, but something simply treatable. We would ask for every prayer you can muster for God's healing touch on his tiny body. And for calm hearts for all his family, both biological and maybe.

We arrived at the hospital about 2 solid hours late. We got stuck in traffic, then took a couple wrong turns, and it literally made us two hours late.

By the time we actually arrived, London had said "this is NOT how we get to New Yoyk Thity" a minimum of one zillion times and we were all kind of on our last shred of patience (or for me in particular, sanity.)

My mom got dinner for the kids while Tom and I went up to the hospital room. It was such a surreal feeling taking the elevator up. We truly had no idea how on earth this was going to go.

The room was very small, absurdly warm, and full of family members, (mostly disapproving). Our interaction with Mom and baby was very brief, but positive. I think she was happy to see us and she happily passed the baby to me to hold. I got told hold the sweet baby boy and hug his mommy a time or two. We did not discuss much or stay long, as the emotional climate in the room was very charged.

I did not expect a fairy tale visit where we all sang worship songs together, and I did not expect anyone to yell out "leave, white devil!" I expected something in between. And this visit was definitely somewhere in between... but a little closer to one end than I would like.

Nobody called us white devil. Nobody called us anything really. I think we just represented a horrible outcome in their minds, and I really cannot blame them for feeling that way.

We stayed only a short time and said our goodbyes. We took flowers and a card and a book called A Mother's Legacy: Your Life Story in Your Own Words. It is sort of a journal with guided questions about your life and your upbringing, who you are and what you want your legacy to be. Whether she parents or we do, I think that it will be important for this little guy to really know who is mother is, in her own words.

We decided to leave and allow the family time to continue processing her decision. We assured her that there is absolutely no pressure on our end, and that she can take the time she needs to think through everything. She was lovely and pleasant toward us, and invited us back this morning.

This time, the social worker will be there, which will be very helpful I think. We got to the apartment that some stranger/friends have allowed us to (once again) utilize. We were exhausted and drained and emotional. My head felt empty and tinny and everything hurt. My head, my body, my heart and soul.

I hoped to sleep until we had to get on the train to go back... But a machine is rhythmically making that impossible. So, today we go back, we meet to discuss things... I don't even know what things. I am too exhausted to try to prep for conversations and I am just praying this baby is fine and that his mom can make the right decision... and I mean it when I say that I have no idea what that is.

I know she loves this baby, and I know that I will too if she asks me to. I know I already love her no matter what she decides, and I am pretty sure that she loves Tom and I too.

Nothing white or devily about it.

NYC: Meeting Mom & Baby

Last night, the baby was born. I had hoped/planned on being at the hospital when he was born... But he came a few days early and he came pretty quickly. Both mom and baby are doing fine and we have spoken with birthmom/first mom/ new mom with a decision to make. Our contact with her remains really positive and when we spoke this morning she reiterated that she still wanted us to come to the hospital today.

Sooo... We are about 3.5 hours away from the hospital. My mom is with us and will sit with the kids while we meet them for the first time.

In the interest of saving time, here are the answers to the FAQ's:

- No, we have no idea what to say or do when we get there.
- Yes, I am disappointed that we missed the birth.
- Yes, it is looking like this adoption may actually take place.
- Yes, anything could change at any time.
- Yes, there is a window of time where she can revoke consent, it is 30-45 days I believe.
- Yes, that is terrifying.
- Yes, we actually signed up for this roller coaster on purpose.
- Yes, she named the baby.
- Yes, we are considering keeping the name she chose.
- No, we aren't announcing anything or posting pictures until we are certain this is our guy.
- No, we don't know how long we will be there.
- Yes, our blood pressure is through the roof.
- No, the kids are not calmly anticipating both possible outcomes.
- Yes, they are, instead, using sibling aggression and excessive questions to manage their conflicting feelings.
- Yes, Tom's driving has gotten worse.
- Yes, he's still a better driver than me.

We should arrive in a few hours, fly by the seat of our pants as we meet this girl and her babe for the first time, and discuss plans. I do not know how to prepare for the emotions that are coming, but I have decided its probably a bad idea to arrive sobbing. So, I am gonna try to hold that for the parking lot. Tom, however, doesn't care what anyone says... he's just committed to sobbing the whole time. Ain't no stoppin' Tom once he starts.

how much love can you squoosh in one square foot?

after the recent break-up and make-up drama with a beautiful house we are trying to purchase, i am left feeling very drained and not just a little confused.  the most recent chapter of this saga?  well, we made another offer on the house, and it was accepted!  the offer was contingent upon the quick sale of our current home (which is a huge challenge in and of itself). the contract is also hinging on our comfort level with the results of an engineer's inspection we had done this morning.  

we knew that there was some trouble with the roof, because that was what caused the last buyer to bail out.  the sad truth is that we may have to walk away from this house because somebody put cedar shakes under the shingles, and that means the whole roof will need to be torn off.  i am looking into finding the guy that invented cedar shakes, and having him apologize to thousands of homeowners, publicly.  i am sure he will come and personally tear off every last bit of cedar from my roof, and will replace it with something very energy-efficient, and cutting edge, so that it is both maintenance-free and will never need replacing.  while he is at it, i am pretty sure he will offer to finish the basement.  and peel the wallpaper.  in the slim, outside chance that mr. miracle-cedar-remover-man does NOT show up, we will need to make some pretty hard decisions. 

as i was walking through the house today, i could not help but imagine the kids running through the house.  i was picturing where we would eat, and play, and hang our stockings.  i couldn't help but move in, emotionally.    i know that you are not supposed to do that when you are looking at a house.  but, it seems like if you can't NOT do that... then maybe you have found the house.

in other family news, we have recently learned that between fundraising, saving, and the generous gifts of others... we have officially raised enough money to move forward with the adoption.  we will submit our family profile and complete the home assessment as soon as we are certain as to which home our mistry baby will be brought! 

if we aren't able to afford this particular house (of my dreams), then we will wait on the Lord that provides more than i could dream up on my own.  the day that we get to bring our last baby home is drawing closer, and that fact is much more significant than to which building he or she will come.  it is a good reminder that no matter what house we end up in, we will pack every square foot of it with all sorts of love and babies.  

and if the Lord wills it, every square foot will also be recently refinished hardwood.