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We have closure, friends.

I think it has been clear for a while now that we have been bobbing and weaving through various shades of red flags.  It was our first time going down this road and we didn’t know what a red flag looked like, exactly.  We could only go with our gut, and hoped we would know when it was time to hold firm and when it was time to cut bait.  We received awesome feedback from YOU, the caring people who follow our journey, and we are so grateful for that because it was affirming and validating as we slowly realized that this is not the way adoption is supposed to work.

In our minds, babies are treasures, not bargaining chips or other methods of currency.  If we had been thinking differently, maybe we would have understood the game long before now.

As much as we had to fight to get information from our agency, our coordinator was facing the same fight to get information from the parents.  It was a cyclical nightmare that none of us could allow to continue for our own emotional health.  Fortunately, today, our coordinator was able to locate and touch base with Carrie’s social worker, who shared the following:  

 “Carrie shared her plan with me and the chance of this adoption going through is very slim.  The parents are very invested in raising their child. I would warn that I would be very surprised if adoption was the route they chose, regardless of the paternity test results.” 

She went on to share that Carrie’s husband, as well as friends and family, have been bringing gifts and clothes to the house on a regular basis.  Our coordinator, hoping for the best, assumed that Carrie had maybe changed her mind in the past couple of weeks.  The social worker said it was her impression that parenting had been the plan since at least the fall.  The fall? You can’t get much earlier than that when you have a June due date for crying out loud on Sunday!

So, why the ruse?  We can only be left to speculate about much of it.  Maybe they really were considering adoption and wanted an agency and a plan in place in case they decided that was their only option.  Maybe they knew they would need a paternity test and it costs a TON of money and an adoption agency would very likely pay for it.  They were still pushing hard for the paternity test through their social worker even today, and as you know the hubs and I majorly advocated to get it for them before the birth.  It was the right thing to do, you know the story.  But sadly the story was not entirely true, and they wanted to know the paternity for their benefit, not ours.  We lucked out that this was all discovered before we paid for half the test; it costs about 3K.

The next question: Why did they pick us?  They had to choose a family to stay in the program, and they had plenty of profiles to choose from.  Why did they pick us knowing they were going to parent the baby?  There is no way to know.  Maybe because we had a kid already, or because our profile shows we have a large, supportive network of family and friends?  I mean, if you have to screw someone over, I guess you pick the people who look like they have the best chance of bouncing back?  I don’t even begin to pretend I understand this mind set.  I will say this though, and I’m not trying to sound like a martyr:  I’m glad it was us rather than a childless couple.  As painful as this has been, it would have been absolutely unendurable if we didn’t have our sweet miracle to love throughout the whole ordeal.  Besides our faith in God’s plan, the hugs and kisses and silliness of our little boy were what made it possible for us to keep going and believe it was going to work out.  It’s funny though, it didn’t work out, but we’re still here, bent but not broken somehow. 

I should be angry at Carrie and her husband, but I’m not.  They were running a scam, yes, and lying to people, yes, and these things are unacceptable.  But I think it’s also the only way they know how to survive.   It’s too bad, because Carrie is a very smart women, and poverty and abuse of government programs are not the only options available to her.  She has the smarts to work herself out of her situation and she is only two years from being a nurse, which would provide a great living for her family.  She could not keep the baby and do the nursing program though, so I guess she is giving up/delaying that dream. What I would want Carrie to know (but probably not her husband, because he didn’t seem like the type who would care much), is that her actions caused us great pain, even if it was unintentional.  And I think that her day-to-day life was so deeply mired in crisis and chaos that she wasn’t even aware of how her choices left us reeling in anxiety and sorrow time and time again.  

Since the day we were informed we were chosen to adopt, April 1st  (over five weeks ago), Carrie provided just enough tidbits of information to the agency (and then them to us) periodically to let us believe she wanted this adoption no matter what, and we were the family she wanted.  We believed her and the agency believed her.  Our lunchtime adoption meeting on April 17 was magic to me; I believed her when she said we were just the couple she had hoped for.  Apparently I’m too trusting/gullible and she’s a fantastic actress.  
The past five weeks were some of the worst of my life.  It was a constant struggle of emotions; should I be eagerly anticipating the birth of our son, or should I be an anxious mess because we haven’t heard from the expectant mother in a week?  Should I be destroyed because I found their baby registries online, or should I believe Carrie when she said her mother did it?  In five weeks, this adoption was on and off three times.  That takes a serious toll on a person.  Much is written about the emotional pain and suffering of birth mothers, but it is taboo to mention the emotional turmoil of adoptive parents.  Adoption coordinators might tell you, “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a baby.”  That, unfortunately, is some bullsh*t.  The fact is, most adoptive parents know exactly what that’s like.  We find ourselves at adoption agencies because we have lost babies.  That’s not nothin’ and our losses should be acknowledged, too.  

To summarize: There will be no bouncing baby boy joining our family in mid-June.  We accept this and are dealing with it because it was never real.  It certainly wasn’t the baby God has intended just for us, although we know he/she is out there somewhere.  This journey is hard; even potential leads are difficult to get excited about or take seriously, because we’ve been there before so often that our instinct is to automatically assume the worst.  We’re going to work on that though, because that’s no way to live, and the baby that is destined to be ours deserves better than that, and so do we.


Update, But Not Really 

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We have just received an email from our coordinator and the expectant mother did not follow through with calling in as she promised she would. She also did not respond to their calls or texts. I realize this is a very difficult position for her to be in, probably the worst any mother could experience, but it’s not going away by hiding from it. 

We were prepared for a yes or a no, but no answer at all is truly horrible. I made it through the weekend sane, only because I knew we would have an answer today. So much for that. 

Meeting Recap

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As the hubs and I cruised up I5, on Friday I had a sudden revelation.
“Hey, how many times have we made this drive, headed north, in our attempts to…how would you say it…”
“Build a family?
“Yeah. How many, do you suppose?”

We pondered it for a bit, mulling over the bittersweet memories that were surfacing. A lot of driving north full of hope, a LOT of times. First there were the many, many trips to Portland for the IUIs that did not work, and never could have worked.  Then the trips to the top fertility clinic in the NW for IVF, so many trips that even if we sat down and intentionally tried to count them, we still couldn’t.  Then the embryo transfers, second, third, and fourth, each time sent home with reassurances that our embryos were A++ and we should go home thinking optimistically.  The miscarriages that required us to make the trip north to resolve it, even in our grief.  The consultation last spring where we learned an egg donor was our only option for getting pregnant again.  The interviews of three more fertility clinics, then a fourth in Washington.  Next were the drives up to the adoption classes after we decided genetics didn’t matter to us but parenting did.  And finally, this long awaited drive north to meet our expectant mother.

It was a gorgeous day Friday, somewhat uncharacteristic for mid-April in Oregon.  The straight shot up the freeway offered us a crystal clear view of Mt. Hood to the east much of the way.  We held hands off and on during the drive up; we were well of what the other was feeling, and we rejoiced in our special connection where words don’t really need to be spoken in order to convey our emotions to each other.

We joked a lot on the drive about what not to say or do.  For example, the hubs best piece of advice to me was not to bum rush our expectant mother, cradle her stomach, and whisper creepily, “My baby, my baby,”  upon first meeting her.  Wise words.  My recommendation for the hubs was to go into the meeting  viewing it from the perspective of our emom,* in order to help filter out any dialogue that might make her sad or give her cause to wonder if she chose the right couple.   Questions to avoid might include, “So, you’ve placed a baby for adoption before?  How did that go?” 

When we arrived at the meeting place, our adoption coordinator was waiting for us on a bench outside.  A few minutes later, our emom arrived, and my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest and fall to the ground at her feet.  We needn’t have worried, Carrie** proved to be very friendly, outgoing, and open about her life.  We were seated quickly at the restaurant, and there were no awkward silences or need to scramble for conversation topics.  Our chat was very natural and flowing, and we talked for an hour before ordering, simply because we were so excited to learn about each other!  Carrie is the type of person I could easily be friends with, even outside of an adoption scenario.  We share many of the same interests and hobbies.  The conversation revealed a woman with integrity, determination, goals, and courage.  The topic of adoption or even the baby itself did not really occur until the last 15 minutes of our 2 hour and 30 minute meeting, after our adoption coordinator redirected all of us back to the issue at hand.  We learned that she would love to have the hubs and I in the waiting room as soon as she went into labor, but that she did not want any company in the delivery room.  That was a bit disappointing, because I was really hoping she would invite me in to witness the birth.  I would love to be in the room and be a support for her, and I could also witness my son*** being born.  I did not have a labor experience with E, straight to emergency C-section, so to witness my second child being born would be a miraculous experience for me.  The hubs got to see the whole C-section so I think he’s good for the rest of his life regarding babies making their way into this world.  The truth is, my needs and desires around that issue are not top priority, or actually any priority.  The woman in labor calls the shots, and that is how it should be!

We also learned that her doctors believe they calculated her due date wrong and she is actually two weeks further along than they previously thought.  Also, she has a number of risk factors for a preterm birth (37-39 weeks) one of those being that after her last pregnancy the doctors told her never to get pregnant again because it would be dangerous to her body. Also, at her ultrasound this week, the doctor estimated that the baby weighed nearly five pounds, much bigger than a baby would be at 32 weeks.  So this week I’m going to pack our “go bags” and install the infant child seat in the car.  That’s probably a little hasty, but I feel like it’s a reasonable amount of paranoia for someone who gave birth to their baby three weeks early, with zero warning (that would be me.)

We are going to meet again this week, and her mother will be joining us.  She and Carrie are very close, and while she supports her daughter’s decision, it’s very important to her to meet, and to approve, the couple that will be adopting her grandson.   If circumstances were different, she really wanted another grandchild (this is Carrie’s sixth baby).  But circumstances are what they are, and as far as I’m concerned, a child can never have too many people that love them, including grandmas!  We plan to let her mother know that we have no intention of shutting her out, we will share pictures and letters and probably even make an occasional visit.  When we began exploring adoption, the idea of maintaining contact with birth parents or other biological family members seemed terrifying and I wanted no part of it.  Over the past several months I’ve learned so much about adoption, and the way it works best is when there is no “mystery” about the birth family.  Research has proven that kids who know their genetic history right off the bat are much more secure with their identity, part of which is being adopted.  That doesn’t mean co-parenting with the birth parents or staying in constant contact all the time.  It really just means that all the parties (adoptive parents, birth parents, child) are aware of each other, and the birth mother doesn’t spend her life wondering how her baby is doing.  And the baby doesn’t grow up wondering why they were placed for adoption, and having no idea how to create a genetic-based family tree in high school biology class. It’s a win-win for everyone, most of all the child.  As it should be.

The next meeting should be sometime this week, and I’m confident it will go just as well as the previous one.  Everything is moving along exactly the way it is supposed to, on track to a successful adoption.  However, the hubs and I continue to proceed with cautious optimism rather than outright excitement.  Adoption is a tricky business, one that we have absolutely no control over.  We are both just trusting that God is on the job.  When we put our trust in Him, we know that things will work out the way they are intended to, even if it doesn’t turn out the way we want.

We should know much more tomorrow, and even more after the next meeting!  Please keep checking back in, because things are going to be happening quickly and we may have changes or updates every day to report!

*emom: adoption jargon for “expectant mother,” a term considerable much more appropriate than “birth mother” until the baby is actually born.

**not her real name, changed to protect privacy

***for the sake of simplicity, I have chosen to refer to the baby on the way as my son, although this is technically not true until the baby is born and the papers are signed 24 hours later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

Posted in The Adoption Waiting Game, Uncategorized by

Thirteen hours from now we will be meeting the woman who is carrying the baby that will be our son. Let’s see if I can round up some appropriate emoticons to express my feelings in this very moment:

😳😱🙍😬😅

Ah, there they are. 

I feel very protective of our expectant mother. Haven’t even met her, but I do just the same. When she meets us tomorrow, she’s not looking at an adoption book; she’s looking at the two people she is trusting to raise this baby. Face to face. So, it’s pretty important we present ourselves as the trustworthy, ethical people that we are. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?  But you know how when you’re nervous, exceptionally nervous, you occasionally say stupid things? I’m hoping tomorrow doesn’t become an event that can be included in the “occasionally” part of that sentence. 

As I alluded to earlier this week, it’s hard to know how to gauge your excitement. For example, if I tell her how hopelessly grateful we are that she is responsible for allowing us to grow our family, will that scare her?  If I play it cool so she doesn’t see how frightened I am that she may change her mind, will that come across as distant and uninterested?  The answer to both questions is a pretty hardy yes, I would say. There is a medium in there somewhere, and that’s where I want to be. I plan to do what I always have, which is just be myself. That usually is the best course of action. Usually. Myself is not so terrible. Usually. 

Fifteen hours from now, maybe things will seem real. So far, they do not. But I suspect that after we are given the opportunity to chat with the expectant mother for a couple hours tomorrow, the landscape will look quite different.  We will see her, we will see the baby growing inside her, and we will get to know the woman who made our dreams come true. Things are getting real.  

The Best Kind of Radio Silence

Posted in The Adoption Waiting Game, Uncategorized by

We have some news to share, friends.

People have reached out to ask why I haven’t updated the blog after our profile was shared with the expectant mother. After all, it’s been like ten days!

This is the reason.

SHE CHOSE US.

She chose our family.

She chose us to adopt her baby boy, due at the beginning of June.

I have started eight different posts to share this news since we got the call last Wednesday. Interestingly, I seem to lack a writing style that doesn’t lean heavily towards the smart-ass department.  With this kind of amazing, life-changing news, I was blocked, writer style.

So that’s all I’ve got, because I’m actually tongue tied, talking style.  Yup, me.  More updates to follow once I learn how to write/speak again!

Painted by my mother for this very occasion.

Painted by my mother after hearing the news.

www.borrowedgenes.com

 

 

Thank You For Visiting!

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Since I am new to WordPress, I am also new to understanding how WordPress stats work. However, I have been getting notifications daily that folks are reading my posts from all over the world! Nothing could make me happier, since the goal is to get people talking about infertility as casually as they might discuss any other health issue. Thank you for reading and let’s continue to motivate and inspire one another in the public sphere. Many of us may have to suffer through infertility, but that doesn’t mean we have to suffer alone.