Adoption Part 3: The Longest 24 hours of my life (aka, the longest post I have ever written)

Utah Law is that the birth-mother must have 24 hours and one minute post-delivery before she can relinquish the baby for adoption. 

24 hours and one minute. I've never had a longer day in my life. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Lets back up to Friday May 13th, 2011. Mike and were home together, cuddling on the couch going through the last things we needed to do before we had a baby. That morning is so very clear to me, though I'm not sure why. Laying there with my head against his chest I distinctly remember listening to his heart. Rhythmic. Steady. Strong. Calming. We were alone, perhaps for the last time in a long time. I heard my phone ring, but I decided to ignore it. Then I had a feeling I better hurry and check it. It was Casey- and Anna was in labor. 

We flew into action. As it turned out, our social worker had something come up and there was a chance he wouldn't be able to be right there at the hospital when we needed him. And when it comes to doing the relinquishment (the official/legal term for the birth mother signing over her parental rights), you don't take chances. So we had some paper work we needed to get sent over to our new social worker asap. 

Overdrive! Shower, breakfast, should we bring some snacks? Pack bags, grab the papers we can fax them on the way, call in from work...Mike was frozen. He looked panicked. Mike is not a huge fan of surprises and this caught us off guard. It was so cute, it really was. I'll never forget the look on his face. I think I just asked him to go start with a shower while I made some calls and wrote out a list (I just love lists). I called Anna, who was at her doctors office. The nurse got on the line to explain that she was having contractions but it did not appear to be active labor. She recommended we wait until Anna progressed further before we drove up, as it wasn't time to go the the hospital yet. 

So all day we waited. Waited for news. Waited for progress. Anna really hoped today would be the day. But it was not to be. I'll tell you what, our house went from clean (really clean actually, I "nested" like crazy the weeks before), to immaculate. Nervous energy drove me crazy as I tried to stay busy that weekend. 

Well a few days later, it was the 18th. Today was for real. And while a false alarm was super disappointing, now we were ready. Especially Mike. Our worst fear going into this is that Anna would change her mind when she held our baby. ("our baby"? yes, we all-even Anna-referred to this baby as "our" baby) Its not uncommon for that to happen. Although, its also not uncommon for birth-mothers to change their minds again weeks or even months later. I didn't know if I could keep myself together if she changed her mind. We worked out our plan. If anything happened, I would slip out as graciously as possible and Mike would take over. Its a crazy feeling. Installing the carseat and packing a diaper bag, while simultaneously discussing how to handle not coming home with a baby. Reflecting back on those gut-wrenching moments I can only be grateful they are past. But its what we had to do. And we were willing to do whatever we had to to bring home our son. 

We called our families to tell them we were on our way. We held hands the whole drive. We listened to our favorite music. There wasn't a whole lot of talking, but that was okay. Mike has a way of saying everything I need to hear, just by holding my hand. 

Anna had to arrive early, about 6am for paperwork and such. We opted to come closer to 10 so she would have time to get settled. Her father and step-mom were there. We had never met her parents before. 

I remember being nervous "meeting the parents" when I was dating. But it was nothing compared to this. I didn't know how they felt about this adoption. I had no idea what they knew about us. I could not have imagined more nerve-wracking conditions to meet them in. 

My heart was racing as we arrived at the hospital. Anna sent her dad down to meet us and take us back to her room. He was short (characteristic of their family, Anna is tiny), friendly, and seemed as nervous as we were. We talked casually, as though we had all done this before (which of course, we had not). Lets call him George. He introduced us to Lucy, his wife. She was also nervous, but incredibly friendly, and so glad to see us. In fact, they both seemed relieved when they met us. Lucy pulled me outside and held me close. "Thank you" she whispered in my ear, "You are the angels we have prayed for". We talked outside for a few more minutes. She told me how worried the family had been, and how grateful she was that we were going to adopt this baby. Grateful to us. I was shocked and humbled. It was us who were grateful, beyond measure. 

The nurses all but ignored us, though we were sure to make sure and introduce ourselves. The hours passed slowly. It was pleasant enough, but of course we were all a bit anxious, and tired (none of us had slept the night before), except for Anna. She seemed completely relaxed. I'll be honest, those hours were a bit of a blur. Her parents ordered pizza around 11, and we all ate together. We talked a lot about their family, their history. Mike and I slipped out later to "get dinner" at Wendy's. Mostly we just needed some fresh air. But we rushed back, determined not to miss anything. 

About 4:30 Anna's water broke. She was progressing beautifully. The staff started preparing for delivery, and the doctor arrived at 4:45. George, Mike, and Anna's boyfriend headed out to the halls to pace. I am forever grateful that Anna wanted me to be there for the birth of our boy. Lucy nudged the nurses, "let he in so she can see, this is his mother", and pulled out her camera. 

*I have to step away from this story for just a minute and talk candidly with you. I'm bawling my eyes out. The birth of your first child is a once in a lifetime experience that changes you forever. I know this is a long post, and I've tried to cut out a lot, but every detail of this day is engraved on my heart. There are just too many things I can't leave out. I've never put it all down in words before and this seems a trivial expression of such a momentous day, but its the best I can do*


Three pushes, and he was out. It was 4:58. A moment later he let out a loud yell. I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest when I saw him. He was perfect.  We have a picture of him peeing on the doctor and nurse as they held him up. Not that I need pictures. I remember it perfectly. I was overcome with a rush of love like I had never experienced before. 

Once they did his assessments, they inked his little feet and stamped them on a card for us. They drew a curtain around Anna, and pulled Mike back into the room. The nurse asked if Mike was the adoptive father, and, when he nodded, pulled him close. Before Mike knew what was happening, she stamped a perfect little "footprint tattoo" on his arm. That was the first moment I saw Mike choke up. 

The nurses bundled our little boy up, and took him to Anna. I wanted to cry, "wait, he is mine", but I choked it back. I felt almost desperate to hold him. Fear clutched at my soul as I watched her take him in her arms. I probably bruised Mike's arm I was holding it so tight. 

But Anna seemed surprised. She only glanced at him for a moment before asking nonchalantly "where is the menu, I'm hungry". Lucy, ever mindful of me, swept over and said "let's get this little guy to his mom, honey", and scooped him up. 



He was so beautiful, perfect. He felt so familiar, like we had already met. I love babies in general. But I can tell you, this was different. I had never felt like this before. He quieted instantly in my arms. And we just looked at each other. I was only vaguely aware of people coming and going. I could have stayed lost in that moment. Mike came to my side as soon as they let him back in the room. Watching him with our tiny son in his arms I felt the most complete happiness. 

  

Now the clock started on the 24 hours. We could not tell anyone, even our family, that he was here. We let our social worker know, and made plans. I stayed by our baby's side. Of course everyone held him. But I fed him, I changed every tiny diaper. I was so glad Lucy was there to take care of Anna so I could focus all of my attention on my precious baby. The minutes ticked by slowly. So slowly.  

Her parents left for the night, and we hugged them close and promised to love our son forever. Anna's boyfriend had ducked out earlier (but can you blame him? he wasn't the father, and he seemed a more than a little uncomfortable). Mike stayed for a while, but finally left to spend the night with my grandma, who lived close by. It was just Anna & me for the night. 

We had talked about it. She had asked me to be there. We had a mutual respect for each other, and I had worked hard to earn her trust. I had the pullout couch, you know the one usually reserved for husbands. But it was I who spent the night by her side. I helped her to the bathroom, got an extra pillow for her from the staff. The nurses forgot to give her something for pain, so I made sure they came back to give it to her. I tucked her in for the night. Once I got her settled I turned my attention to our son. "Baby Boy", no last name on his card. Just a room number. He was so small, so helpless. I held him close, and watched Anna sleep. I know Anna is not my daughter, and it was not she that we adopted. But I have always wanted to help her, take care of her. In this moment, more than ever, I ached to undo the heartache life had burdened her with. And for the first time I wrestled with the idea of adoption. 

I knew it would break her heart. I knew she loved him. We both knew she could not take care of him, she could barely take care of herself. But I didn't want to cause her more heartache-and losing a child is a terrible loss. 

I'm not sure I slept much. I just kept staring at my sleeping baby. It was a thoughtful and contemplative night. But by morning, I was filled with peace. 

  

I was excited to see Mike the next morning. He brought up breakfast and Jamba Juice. The second day was the hardest. Anna was expecting all of her family and friends to come. The first visitor was a vulgar, foul, and odorous man in his 50's. They had known each other from a homeless shelter they stayed at together. As I watched him roughly pick up my baby I felt a dragon-like fury. He wasn't gentle at all. When our sweet boy liked his lips, this man roared "don't you stick your tongue out at me you little &$#@($&#...", and I kid you not Mike had to hold me back. Everything inside of me wanted to protect my helpless son and banish this guy. But I bit my tongue and waited for my chance to snatch back my baby. 

The whole day I was guarded. The family was nicer. In fact, I was excited to see Casey and her daughter come. Still, it was hard to see all of Anna's family fall in love with a boy we couldn't even tell our parents about. But thus it was. I was relieved that most of Anna's friends flaked out. Even her boyfriend (who had promised to come first thing) bailed on her (which was ok, because when she called he was completely wasted in front of his xbox). But I could see the disappointment in her eyes. 

To take her mind off of it, I helped her wash and style her hair. She had never had a hair straightener before so I had brought her a spare I had. (lest you think me cheap, under no circumstances were we allowed to give her a gift, in case for legal reasons that be taken as a bribe). I just happened to have a few things I knew she would appreciate, so I brought them. (Who could argue with that?) I smoothed her hair, did her makeup, touched up her nails. I knew she would be going home to a skunk-drunk joke of a boyfriend (he lost any chance of me liking him when he offhandedly told her not to come home until she was ready to "sex up" their apartment, despite needing recovery time),  but I wanted her to feel beautiful, and important. 

Anna had asked the social worker to come by early with papers so that she could fill them out ahead of time. I was anxiously watching the clock all day. By noon, I was dying. George came back around 4 to help her go through everything. They worked on a medical history, and filled out stacks of paperwork. Time slowed even more. The only moments I forgot the time were taking care of my baby. Bath time, feedings. I held him as much as possible, feeling a protective claim that legally I had no right to make. Not yet. 

Finally our social worked came back. He explained everything to Anna & her father. We chatted. Waiting. We were all ready, and finally at 5pm she was able to sign papers. He was ours to take home. I almost felt like running out of the hospital, like it wouldn't be official while we were still standing there all together. We headed to the nursery to get our son. The new shift of nurses were not up to speed on our situation. It was funny to see their faces as I strolled in in my jeans. "Wow, you look great for just having a baby", I let it slide with a smile. For some reason I found it really funny and it was a nice break from the tension of the last day. 

Finally we loaded up the car and pulled away. But we weren't more than 100 feet away when Mike glanced back at the little carseat behind us. And he broke down in tears. He was my rock through all of this, and everything finally hit him all at once. We pulled over and cried together. 

Finally able to call our families, we let them know we were on our way home. Swept up in the most delicious happiness we left as a new little family. We picked up a Papa Murphey's Gourmet Vegetarian pizza (my favorite) on our way home. As we rolled in the drive I pulled out the video camera. We were like giddy kids introducing him to our home. Suddenly everything felt normal. Our family all came by to meet him that night. He was the first grandchild on either side, so yeah, he was an extra big deal. Watching our family tenderly take him in, I was so grateful. I knew that despite our imperfections he would have parents who would love & protect him, and family that would be loyal & spoil him like crazy. We made it. I looked around our beautiful little home and my son, proudly in Mike's arms. Beckett. We could name him now. B, for short. As I took him in my arms that night, I felt my insides lurch. But this time it was not out of anxiety. It was the tiny baby I carried within. Yup, I was pregnant. And our baby was more than excited about B too.