Snapshot 80: He is home...

I am sorry it took me so long to update but here it is...

- July 28, 7:01 am a baby boy enters the world and stares at the wonderful mother who gave him birth.
- July 29, 9:00 am, anxious me and composed DH jump when the phone rings. They are invited by T. to come meet the baby a 11:30am
- July 29, 11:30am, the baby is all bundled up next to his mom; he is beautiful but I cannot yet really see him because I can already feel the pain in T.'s eyes.
- July 30, 11:00 am. We meet the nurse in the nursery and the baby is there too. We discuss about newborn care and other tips and things that overwhelmed new parents like us might need. I look at the baby in my arm and ache terribly thinking of T., alone in her room.
- July 30, Noon. The baby goes back with T. and she invites us to come in too. We talk about the adoption; we reassure each other that we are all going to work hard at making this a wonderful experience. T. is making sure that we know how to care for this new baby, what works, what doesn't. She says that he will need a lot of love and that she knows he will get tons with us.
- July 30, 2:30pm. It is time to let T. say goodbye to her baby. We leave the room and will come back only after she signs the paper. I am beginning to loose it.
- July 30, 5:00pm. We receive a call. T. is ready for us to come and begin our journey as parents. My heart breaks and I am a crying mess when I enter the room. I cry when I read the poem I wrote from her baby to her, I cry when for the first time I see the tears rolling down her face. I feel so small when she puts the car seat in our car and gives a last kiss. I loose it when she leaves with empty arms. We had over 3 months to bond and I saw how much she loved and care for her baby and I knew it would be hard for her but her pain was nearly unbearable for me.
- July 30, 6:00pm. We go home with our baby. He is a little boy, 6lbs 15 ounces, 19 inches. He is beautiful.
- July 31. We are parents. We have stared at our little boy all night and yes, we love him already. I cannot eat though because I cannot stop thinking about T. Our little boy N. will know about her and he will know how incredibly hard this was for her to do what she did.
- August 1: 2nd night with little sleep and our little boy has taken over our entire life, our entire heart.
We received and email from T. . She misses N, hopes that he misses her, wants us to tell him she loves him. And yes, I cry again, and again and again.

I know without a doubt that N. is here to stay, that we are loving him so much already but I wonder how long it is going to take for me to not feel guilt.

Snapshot 79: Baby, don't be scared.

Baby, you are about to come and say hello to all of us waiting.

You were all safe and sound
Swimming around
Sucking your thumb
Thinking: “This life is grand!”

You were comfy in your mommy,
But were running out of room
In your four stars womb,

So they helped you and you agreed
To come out for all to see
You, the beautiful baby.

When you take your first breath of fresh air,
There will be a relieved whisper.
Then you will hear the voice of her,
Her who carried you for what she thought was forever
Your mother.

She will cry when she sees you for the first time
She will smile at the same time.

She will wish for you to have a voice
So that you can help her make the best choice.

She will debate in her head
And wish you could tell her instead

She will tell you she loves you
Think again about what to do

And when she decides,
You will be by her side.

So Baby, don’t be scared,
There will be a lot of emotions shared
After all it is about you we all care.

When a home is chosen for you,
There will be pain, but joy too.

Baby, don’t be scared,
There will always be somebody to love you.

Snapshot 78: Multiple Choices

How does it feel to be so close and yet not sure at all about the outcome of this wait?

a) You feel like you are about to solve a great mathematical equation: if X is the pregnant mother, Y the prospective parent and Z the baby, how can X+Z =X+Z+Y?

b) You feel like you are about to discover the best recipe ever but you are not sure about the missing ingredient: Take a pregnant mother, Find a sweet but not too sweet couple or prospective parent. Mix together. If you are not in a hurry, let the mix rest for while. Don’t hesitate to mix from time to time. At the last minute, add a fresh bubbly baby. Wait a few days. All the ingredients might come together nicely, but they can also separate. In this case, try the recipe again.

c) You feel like finishing this darn puzzle that you began so long ago. You usually like to begin by the frame, to hold it together. But this time, there were too many frame pieces missing, so you did the inside first. The picture is one of a mother and hopeful parents next to her. The frame is the baby: that’s the part missing, as well as the signature piece on the bottom right corner.

d) You feel like all of the above and much more.

I’ll let you guess.

Snapshot 77: Due date

We are live now. No more backtracking. It is here and now. It even feels strange to report about the now. It feels too close, too real even. But here it is.

T. is going to be induced on Friday. 27/07/2007. Beautiful date to begin the journey. The baby might see it differently and decide to come the 28 or the 29.

Get your beauty sleep, they tell me. Sleep? How can I do that with the gazillion things going through my mind? Actually, I do fall asleep. But I wake up because I have forgotten to breathe or something.

What are those gazillion thoughts waking me up you think?
Here is a sample:
-I am going to be a parent. But what if I am no good at it?
-T. has the right to change her mind. And she might.
-I am going to feed, love and care for a newborn. What if I don’t bond right away?
-Being a parent might happen. I still have a cool job waiting for me if it doesn’t. I know a lot of those kids too and it is going to be a great group of students. I will have all August to prepare my class.
-I am going to bring my computer to T.’s town so that I can announce the birth right away to all that are far away.
-I cannot announce the birth right away. Well I can, but won’t; it would be assuming that the baby will be ours when it will not be until T. decides it?
-I can already feel the outpouring love that is going to come rushing when we come home with the baby.
-If T. decides to parent, we have to take a break from all this for a while. I want to go one week out of town. What about Banff? We have always wanted to go hike in that area. Yes, that sounds like a plan.
- I still need to buy diaper covers. I think I probably need 8. I’d better keep the receipt. You never know.

Sounds like my brain cannot think straight. It definitely cannot.

Three to four days now and we will know…

Snapshot 76: On a lighter note..

July 19, 2007

So I went to see about cloth diapers and learn about the whole shebang.

After a few questions on my part, the lady asked me if I was inquiring to make a gift to somebody. Apparently I either looked to old to be having a baby or I did not quite look the part. Once she learned that the baby would come through adoption, we kept on talking. She was going into her usual speech, telling me that it is best to order the diapers before the baby is due so that you have them right away, when she stopped in her tracks and looked at me funny.

I understood her look and I said myself what she wanted to say: no, we would probably not get the diapers early because you never know, this adoption could not go through.

I think that she should have just nodded at that point but she was so relieved that I said it myself that she went on: "Yes, I have seen so many moms getting the diapers and then the adoption did not happen, it breaks my heart for them".

Ok then, that was not too helpful. Not that I thought I would get a thrill out of ordering diapers, but you know what I mean. I guess our kid will be peeing all over the place for a while, so don't invite us over right away!

Snapshot 75: Kleenex anyone?

July 16, 2007
I am on the road, driving down this stretch of highway, this straight line from my house to T.’s town. She has a doctor’s appointment today. She asked if I wanted to come, to hear the heartbeat she said. I am not sure she heard my answer as my own heart is pumping like crazy and resonating in my ears. Yes, thanks I really appreciate, I’ll come, is the answer that she hears. YES THANKS, is the answer that I scream inside.

It is the first time that we will meet just the two of us. Two people at such a different place in their lives. Two human beings searching for ways to connect on a deeper level. Two individuals ready to love the same baby.

I am on the road. T. sits next to me. It feels comfortable and good. We joke about reading directions. She is my co-pilot and we do a good job at finding the place with one U-turn only.

She had talked so much on email about not knowing what to say because she felt that she was going to embarrass herself, that I was fearing that we might have awkward silences. Well, that is if I found ways to stop myself from talking!
It never felt awkward. I think we needed this time together. Just the two of us.
And it is indeed a good thing that we had a lot to share.

In my native country of France, when the doctor is ready for you, you go directly from the waiting room to his office. There is a big desk usually and comfortable chairs for you to sit and talk about why you are visiting. Here, in the US, I have always felt oppressed when I was called and put in a closet-like room to wait for the doctor.

Today is no exception. T. and I are ushered in the closet. The nurse takes vital signs. And we wait. T. perched on the table, me sitting on the chair. We wait 40 minutes before the doc even shows up. 40 minutes. It is a good thing that we felt good and relaxed with each other right away and it allows us to talk about silly subjects where T. gets me laughing hard.

T. is proud to present me to the doctor who asks me if I am the adoptive mom… Why do I want to say no? Why is it that I look at T. for a sign? Why do I want to hide like I have done a bad thing? I sheepishly say yes. I know that the doc doesn’t want more. He has already moved on and has begun asking questions to T. Gosh, I have to get a grip.

After another good teamwork on the road, we make it to the pharmacy, then to the restaurant to have dinner. T. doesn’t like to decide where to eat. I don’t either. We jokingly talk about stopping somebody on the sidewalk to ask him or her to make the decision for us.

We finally sit down. As we are perusing the menu, we can hear a baby crying in the background. T. looks at me and says: “ This will be for you soon”.

I duck under the table, I frantically look for my bag; my hands plunge to the bottom of it and resurface with a handful of Kleenex to wipe the tears rolling down. The fountain is on. I am not sure I can stop it now.
I am pathetic.

Yes, yes, it will be for me… but it makes me so sad for you I say, so sad because it is going to hurt you and there have been way too much hurt in your life already.

She knows, she appreciates.

From that moment on, T. will open up and talk to me about her life, talk to me knowing that I will not judge, that I will listen. I will also get confirmation that my tear ducts are functioning properly, except for the off switch that is.

I am mad also. Mad at this society that has barricaded people in their own little world. Mad that we tend to think that somebody’s problem is to be solved by somebody else. As a teacher I have had to make tough calls, I have had to protect children when I saw that something was not right. I have never done it with the intention of separating a child from his family. But I have done it in an effort to bring in help.
That is why, as I am sitting with T. I don’t understand why the system failed her so miserably. Why people who knew decided to close their eyes because it was not their problem.

Her baby deserves more, a lot more she says. But she does too.
I hope that she lets us be there for her. There is nothing we can undo, but at least, we can try to give her back faith in humankind.

Snapshot 74: Life goes on

July 6
I am envious when I see people keep calm and upbeat when faced with various obstacles in their life.
I am envious of couples that have been chosen and scream it to the World and embrace the idea that they are going to be parents.
I am envious when I read that some couples have an easy and wonderful relationship with the mother of their future baby.

But envy, I was always told, is a not very becoming. Envy does not let you see what you have.

Granted, our relationship with T. is about me swimming upstream while she is waiting at the source, but it is still a relationship.
No, there is nothing that will ever be written in stone that says that she will place her child with us, and we don’t want that, but she has not changed her mind yet and because we love and respect her for what she is going to do, we have to believe her words and that gives us hope.

And then there is life. Life outside of this strange, amazing, scary and wonderful adventure that is the merging of two families into one.

Yes I will be like a broken toy for a while if T. decides to parent but I also know that my life is much more than about me being a parent.

It is about enjoying being one with nature as we just did with DH for a week in beautiful Montana. It is about the friends that I laugh and cry with. It is about seeing my students grow into independent learners. It is about my passion for teaching, for reading, for cooking, for crafting meaningful gifts to friends and family.

Just like weeds keep on wanting to come back in my backyard no matter how deeply I get to the roots, life always goes on no matter how deeply you get wounded.

Why do I write this? Because even if I want to believe that we will be parents soon, I need to pack in my brain a back-up plan, a TLC corner that will pop up if need be.

Snapshot 73: The ups... and the scary downs.

June 6, 2007
15 days. That’s how long we have been without contact. T is not responding to my emails. I make them casual. I talk about our daily life; I ask how she is doing. No pressure. But no answers.
I try questions that would require an answer. Nothing.

15 days. I am going downhill. Fast.
If she is changing her mind or has changed her mind, I want to know now, well, I want to know yesterday.

Day 16. I cannot stand it anymore. I decided to call. She does not respond. I left a message telling her that we miss hearing from her and that we think about her.

Day 16- part 2- I call her counselor. No, T. has not changed her mind. She just has a hard time reaching out.

Day 17- An email from T. Finally. It is long. In it she does all she can to reassure us that her silence does not mean she is changing her mind. It just means that she needs space, that she needs time to prepare herself for the separation.

It is a very nice message. Once again she picked me up. Not quite though. I feel guilty. Her words jump at my throat, my heart. She cares so much for this little baby and is already acknowledging how much pain it will cause her.

I feel like adopting her. I feel like she is the one who is in need of unconditional love.

Snapshot 72: Speechless

If you are reading and wondering, I am getting closer to report on actual news... but the baby is still staying warm in-utero right now!

May 20, 2007
It is pouring down rain; the skies are very low, yet it is a very bright day. We are meeting with T. and her boyfriend in a restaurant. Over a month has passed already since we saw each other. We are on our own. No counselor this time. I think it’s better, yet I am pretty sure that we will not be able to touch on the hard questions.

We have brought a few gifts for T., but I was not prepared for a gift from her. Before I even sit down, she hands me a paper booklet. On it, in big letters, she has written down the name of her baby. Inside, she has put the ultrasound pictures at the different stages of development.

She wants us to have the booklet. She made it for us. I am speechless, blurry eye and all.

Is this the sign I was waiting for? Is she symbolically placing her baby with us now?
It is such a wonderful gesture. Yes, that’s how I should see it: as a beautiful gesture.

Words are flowing nicely between the four of us; we look like two couples having lunch together. It must look like we like each other, like we have fun together.

I cannot leave without trying a hard question; I have to be brave. Are you still feeling like you would like to place your baby? is the question I ask. She nods, she says that yes, she still knows that it will be her decision.

It will hard she says, very hard.

My heart breaks in pieces, again.

Snapshot 71: Choosing a name

May 7, 2007
Today something changed. Something felt more real. Is it possible that T. really wants us to parent her child?
T. and I have been exchanging through email and we have found ways to talk about the baby using many different names: the baby, the little one and other names that would reveal the gender of the baby, which I am keeping a secret to all around me.
Yesterday though, T. wrote that it was time to talk names. She wanted to call this little person by a real name. Not any name. She wanted a name that would connect her to the baby and that would also connect us. She asked us to choose. She wanted us to choose.
Of course we had thought about names. But how could I do that? I felt that I had no right to impose a name that we really liked. Yes she was the one asking, but it is her child.

I have always felt that names are so personal. Either you like it or you don’t. What if she did not like our name? Sure this is a minor detail in the whole picture of embracing and raising a child, but still. I felt an enormous responsibility. Asking us to parent her child was already a huge decision for T. Now I felt that us choosing the name was our first decision as parents. I wanted her to get a good impression and yet I knew that there is so much that a name can carry. What if somebody that was hurtful to her in the past was named that way?

We still jumped in. I did explain all my feelings about names to her. We told her it was only a suggestion. She did not have to like it.
We knew after meeting T. for the first time that, as part of the child’s name, we would include the name of a person very dear and very close to her that had passed away. She did not ask for it. We just knew it was right.

I hit the sent button, both first names typed down.

T. never responds right away. I thought we blew it. She hated it and could not find a way to tell us. I wrote again. The impatient me. I told her, again, that it was just a suggestion. She could choose any name.
She wrote back. She loved the names. Was very honored that we included the second name. Loved how the two sounded together.

The baby has a name. I will not use it unless she does. It is her baby.