Yesterday was one of those days where you spend the whole day either crying, or trying not to cry, or eating so much Chinese takeout.
We have spent countless hours on trains and Tom pulled more than one body part brisk walking from one subway station to the next. We have navigated the metro system pretty well, but it allows us very little time to process any of the craziness that we are experiencing.
This is truly one of the hardest things we have gone through together, but also one of the most beautiful. Our time with N. has been very sweet and wonderful, which also describes her perfectly. We also had some very precious time holding baby boy in the NICU.
He was amazing, his grip was strong, he is eating and sleeping like champ and his eye contact was impeccable - like he really cared about what we had to say, ya know? Not like some other babies who are all like "blah blah blah," but never take the time to really listen.
I'm joking, but the point is that deep down I know he has some infection somewhere, but you absolutely cannot tell... to me he just seemed perfectly perfect.
We had the opportunity to speak with the man who's consent we need in order to move forward with the adoption. He voiced his concerns and we were able to address those and share a little about who we are and what life with us might look like. I debated about whether or not to again promise not to burn anyone, but it didn't seem like it would make as much sense in this conversation. Nevertheless, the call was overall very positive and left us feeling pretty confident that he agrees with and supports the adoption plan.
This is a small step in one of a million hurdles before we can actually call this baby ours. But, it's a start. We did get the hospital social worker to sort of advocate for us a little so that the staff can start to understand that we need to be in the loop also, and we did get permission to be with him in the NICU even after N. goes home. This was a huge relief because I am really eager to bond with him, and neither N. nor us want him to be there alone.
Our time was very emotional there, but I have never seen such strength in all my life. I don't know how somebody can be so engaged with their baby, loving, affectionate, proud and beaming... and still have the clarity of thought to remain focused on her plan. In my ignorance I assumed one must remain emotionally closed off or else they change their mind.
This is not the case. Miss N. is very open and loving. She said is remaining focused not on her own pain, but the fact that she believes that what is best for him is to be with us, specifically.
I will spend the rest of my life trying to wrap my head around that. I simply cannot fathom such sacrificial love coming from a human person. That is pure, divine, Jesus love being shown through that young girl.
Please pray for her precious heart, and she is asking specifically for prayers for strength and peace. I have never seen anyone stronger or more peaceful in all my life, so you'll be happy to know that your prayers are working in advance.
Today N. will be leaving the hospital, and hearts will break. Ours, hers, and that sweet boy who doesn't know what's coming. But, as long as she wants us to be his parents... we will be there with and for them both. And we will do everything possible to be worthy of being his mommy and daddy.
January 31, 2013
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.
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.
January 30, 2013
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.
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.
January 29, 2013
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.
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.
January 25, 2013
By Faith, I Shall Pack
We are back in that place - that vulnerable place - where we are going through the end of a pregnancy with an even-more-vulnerable girl who is faced with making the hardest decision of her life.
After our last experience, we weren't sure what to think when our social worker called about a new possible adoption. Most people reminded me to temper any feelings of excitement, so as not to get so disappointed this time. I have tried that for almost two weeks now, and I have decided that I am all done. I am just going to dive head-first into all the emotions of it, and I am not going to even try to hold back. Perhaps that makes me clinically insane, but... is that really news to anyone??
Here is the problem, I have spent a lifetime trying to "prepare myself" for all the horrible things that are coming my way.
Lara: "Oh, this is a happy marriage!"
Lara "Well, he's probably leavin' in a minute, so don't get too excited."
Lara: "Wow, I have been blessed with such a full, beautiful family."
Lara: "Maybe they aren't beautiful, maybe they are all hideous and you're the only one who doesn't know it."
Lara: "Wow, I really think I am making some personal progress."
Lara: "Ha! You can't even spell progress!"
Lara: "I totally just spelled it correctly."
Lara: "Whatever, you didn't even get the underlying point - which is that you are pretty useless."
Lara: "That was mean. But you're probably right."
See! I know how to temper all things positive and hopeful. I can straight up ruin a good outlook like nobody's business. The problem is that if/when the other shoe drops, I am not really any more prepared by having been obsessively worrying and protecting myself, and "pre-hurting" certainly doesn't make it hurt less in the long run. The reality is that I have just pre-lived the nightmare before I even needed to. And in the case that no shoe drops... I lived a nightmare for no reason at all!
So, here I go. I am packing bags. I am packing for our family of six, and I am even packing for a seventh, just in case this maybe baby ends up being the "mistry baby" we have waited for for so long.
After another wonderful conversation with the young woman who is planning to have her baby adopted, (and a family member of hers who is her main support) we feel like we need to prepare for the reality that a baby might actually be coming home with us this time.
She expressed her desire to meet with us before the baby comes (he is due in a week, so we kinda gotta hussle!) and also that she would like us to be at the hospital when she goes into labor.
We reassured her that our support for her is not conditional, and that us being there to support her is not based on any pressure or guilt or attempt to manipulate her into following through with her adoption plan. Our heart is to be there and support her despite what she decides. We truly want what is best for her and this baby, and I am thankful that we don't have to be the ones to decide what that is!
THIS truly explains our heart on the matter, and really it boils down to the fact that we love, because He first loved us. Someone has to love first... so, we are just gonna start. She seems very decided and sure, and said that our conversation and the family member's approval and support of us was a "huge confirmation" for her. Call us crazy, but we are moving forward with pre-loving this woman and her child, opposed to pre-living the nightmare.
We will either live through a horrible situation or we won't... So, we have chosen to wait and just bravely do it once if we must, instead of doing it a thousand times over before we need to.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once." William Shakespeare
So let the packing begin...
After our last experience, we weren't sure what to think when our social worker called about a new possible adoption. Most people reminded me to temper any feelings of excitement, so as not to get so disappointed this time. I have tried that for almost two weeks now, and I have decided that I am all done. I am just going to dive head-first into all the emotions of it, and I am not going to even try to hold back. Perhaps that makes me clinically insane, but... is that really news to anyone??
Here is the problem, I have spent a lifetime trying to "prepare myself" for all the horrible things that are coming my way.
Lara: "Oh, this is a happy marriage!"
Lara "Well, he's probably leavin' in a minute, so don't get too excited."
Lara: "Wow, I have been blessed with such a full, beautiful family."
Lara: "Maybe they aren't beautiful, maybe they are all hideous and you're the only one who doesn't know it."
Lara: "Wow, I really think I am making some personal progress."
Lara: "Ha! You can't even spell progress!"
Lara: "I totally just spelled it correctly."
Lara: "Whatever, you didn't even get the underlying point - which is that you are pretty useless."
Lara: "That was mean. But you're probably right."
See! I know how to temper all things positive and hopeful. I can straight up ruin a good outlook like nobody's business. The problem is that if/when the other shoe drops, I am not really any more prepared by having been obsessively worrying and protecting myself, and "pre-hurting" certainly doesn't make it hurt less in the long run. The reality is that I have just pre-lived the nightmare before I even needed to. And in the case that no shoe drops... I lived a nightmare for no reason at all!
So, here I go. I am packing bags. I am packing for our family of six, and I am even packing for a seventh, just in case this maybe baby ends up being the "mistry baby" we have waited for for so long.
After another wonderful conversation with the young woman who is planning to have her baby adopted, (and a family member of hers who is her main support) we feel like we need to prepare for the reality that a baby might actually be coming home with us this time.
She expressed her desire to meet with us before the baby comes (he is due in a week, so we kinda gotta hussle!) and also that she would like us to be at the hospital when she goes into labor.
We reassured her that our support for her is not conditional, and that us being there to support her is not based on any pressure or guilt or attempt to manipulate her into following through with her adoption plan. Our heart is to be there and support her despite what she decides. We truly want what is best for her and this baby, and I am thankful that we don't have to be the ones to decide what that is!
THIS truly explains our heart on the matter, and really it boils down to the fact that we love, because He first loved us. Someone has to love first... so, we are just gonna start. She seems very decided and sure, and said that our conversation and the family member's approval and support of us was a "huge confirmation" for her. Call us crazy, but we are moving forward with pre-loving this woman and her child, opposed to pre-living the nightmare.
We will either live through a horrible situation or we won't... So, we have chosen to wait and just bravely do it once if we must, instead of doing it a thousand times over before we need to.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once." William Shakespeare
So let the packing begin...
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