Adoption Part 2: Two & a half months

* I want to preface my thoughts today with the following: This blog has been a lot of fun for me. It has been an outlet, and a lighthearted place to share my thoughts. And while this experience was incredibly blessed, and had joyous outcomes, by no means was it lighthearted in nature. My heart was raw from the disappointment of childless years. Our finances were tight from the strain of trying. We were busy, both working and in school. Mike and I drew close through our struggles, but they were struggles nonetheless. I am by nature quite open about most things. But I am fiercely protective of my family, and there are just some things that I hold close only to be shared at the right time, and with close friends. There were so many tender experiences as we tried for a child of our own, as we navigated the fragile relationship with our birth-mother, as the adoption of our son pended the agency of another. We have been asked lots of questions, and I'll try to answer them as we go. There are roughly a couple hundred of you who read our blog (which I realize is nothing in the blog world, but it means a lot to us), but I'm uncertain who exactly who you are so I'm hoping to reach those of you who have asked to know more. If I miss your question, feel free to reach me personally or comment at the end.*

**Names have been changed to protect the privacy of the wonderful people who are part of our story**

Two & a half months:

At first our only contact with the birth-mom was through her cousin Casey. Casey did a wonderful job of preparing us to meet with Anna, our birth-mom. She gave us some background on Anna's life, and told us about the progress of this pregnancy. 

Our first meeting was highly anticipated. As silly as it sounds, I was worried about every little detail. We only had one chance to make the right impression, and the stakes could not have been higher. What are you supposed to wear? I changed my outfit over and over as I went through possible scenarios in my mind. I had dozens of imaginary interviews, trying to anticipate what she would ask us. As we were ready to walk out the door, Casey called and said Anna was having a rough day, and we should reschedule. Of course we immediately agreed. But I was so worried. The decision to give up a child is probably one of the most difficult anyone can make, and I knew Anna had gone back and forth trying to decide what to do. 

A stressful week of waiting, and we finally got another chance. Mike & I went as "us" as possible. Nothing fancy. Of course we wanted to impress her. But I tried to put myself in her shoes, and we decided the best thing we could do was just to give her the best idea of who we were everyday. I knew she didn't have a lot of money, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by being super dressed up, so we came casual. Jeans. It was a Saturday. I remember every detail.  I still have the shirt I wore that day. And I think of that day every time I put it on. 

We met at Casey's house. I was holding on to Mike's hand as tight as I could as we walked to the door. Casey welcomed us into her home with a smile. I liked her instantly, and was grateful she was there. Anna was dressed all in black, and had done her hair and makeup. I can't tell you what was going through her mind in those first moments. I can't tell you what was going through my mind. But as I took her hand our eyes met. There was an unspoken, and indescribable moment as a million things that words could never convey passed between us. This girl could not have been more vulnerable, her swollen belly bulging though clothes that were not meant for maternity. 

And then I looked down. There he was, the most perfect bump I had ever seen. A bump I could not help but wish was my own. He was so close I could have reached him. But he was not mine. Not yet. I was dying to know him, did he move a lot? Did he like music, warm showers? Was he measuring okay? Had his ultrasound looked good? All of this and more passed through my mind. But I just smiled and followed Casey into her living room.

  

We were there for over an hour talking, but it only took a few minutes of Anna's questions before she seemed satisfied. We began talking about when he would arrive. She wanted to know what we would name him. Would we circumcise him? What about school? She asked us each a few questions about ourselves. I can't imagine having been more comfortable than we were, and the time passed quickly. She liked us. The decision was hers entirely. I have no idea what she was looking for, the criteria was all up to her. And somehow we passed. She was going to be our birth-mother. 

She told me when her next doctors appointment would be, and offered to let me come. My heart was so full I felt like I would explode. Of course I would be there, and anything she needed I told her to call me. I didn't know how to take care of my unborn son yet, but I could take care of Anna. And that became my goal for the next 10 weeks. 

Anna was scheduled to be induced on May 18th, at 39 weeks. I went to each appointment with her, picking her up at her apartment. I loved her. I respected her tremendously. She had a hard life. She was bipolar and allergic to lithium, making treatment near impossible. The birth-father was in jail, and had been very abusive. So much so that she had to run, change her number, hide from him. She had been on the streets. Life had been hard on her. 

I took her out to eat, made sure she had food in her fridge. I met her boyfriend, her neighbors, even her grandma. I saw her apartment, tried to make sure she had what she needed. 

We had some moments. She wanted us to name this baby after her father and grandfather. I wanted him to have his own name, and Mike's. She talked about having sleepovers, and taking him to family reunions. I feared she wanted to be his mother when it was convenient for her, and that she wasn't thinking about how this would affect our child. I tried to be gentle, and clear about what our boundaries were. I was afraid she would pull back, but I had to be honest with her. Through the whole thing Mike was my rock. Some days  Anna was all over the place, other days she was calmer. We road it out praying for the best.

Those two and a half months were intense. We told only our families, and a few of our closest friends. I was dying to talk to everyone, this was all new for me. But we guarded the privacy of everyone involved with great care. The expectations were high, our hopes were higher. But adoption is uncertain, and the decision of the birth-mom can change at any time. 

We cautiously prepared a nursery. Buying only essentials. Well, that was the plan. I couldn't help but get a few extra things for this boy I awaited. Mike was nervous when he came home from work saw my excitement and a small stash of baby boy clothes. He was as hopeful as I, but ever protective of me. He worried about if I would be okay if something happened and we did not get this baby. And with good reason. My heart was set, I was no longer objective. I was fully invested, and could not reign in my love for this boy. I dreamed of him. I thought about him all the time. Was Anna eating today? Please tell me she didn't get back on that motorcycle again. I hoped she was drinking or smoking too heavily, though I knew she was at least a little. I wanted to protect him so much. And so it went. As much as possible, Mike took care of me, I took care of Anna, and we waited.