I just wanted the beach. The ocean, the sand, the sun… For
nearly two years, I’d been saying that I just wanted the beach. And this time a
month ago, some friends and I decided it was going to happen. We were going to go
to Mexico. We were going to go to the beach.
On Tuesday, July 6th, we were standing at my desk,
considering flights and perusing the fun options at our chosen resort when my
phone rang. And I saw that it was my caseworker, and I knew exactly what it
meant. I excused myself to take the call, and the anxiety in my heart swelled
when my suspicions were confirmed: Another birth mother had chosen David and me
for her baby. Most prospective parents would rejoice at the honor, but the
phone call came faster than we expected. And we were (and are) still mourning
Ruby.
So I gathered the details, hung up the phone, and burst into
tears. I was terrified of going through the hospital again. I was sad at how
numb and unexcited I felt. And honestly, I was annoyed that this meant I wasn’t
going to Mexico. It was clear to me that my heart was a little hard, and I
needed to ask the Lord for help and support. Good thing for me – I work at a
church.
David and I met our birth mother on Saturday, July 11th.
She was around 38 weeks, so things would have to happen quickly. We all agreed
that we wanted to move forward, hesitant and guarded though David and I were,
and a c-section was scheduled for Tuesday, July 21st. I went back
and forth between panic and denial, but for the most part, I just focused on my
to-do list, taking each day at a time. I had carefully planned a timeline of
events to make sure everything got done. But the short notice meant that some
things would be done last minute.
So on Monday, July 20th, when my caseworker
called to say that birth mom was in labor… I only mildly freaked out. Our bags
weren’t packed, the house wasn’t clean, and I had a mound of work at my desk. David was out in Fort Worth at the Fire
Academy, and the hospital was an hour and half from our house. Nothing was
going as planned, but we just had to make it work. I rushed home, threw things
together, and jumped in the car. Here we went again.
************
“Hi, I’m an adoptive mother, and I believe our birth mom is
in a c-section right now. I’m supposed to ask for Alex?” The receptionist
listened to me explain our situation, and a warm grin slowly stretched across
her face. “You’re right. The baby has been delivered, and birth mom is still in
the O.R. We can’t let you back until your caseworker and husband are here, so
you’ll have to take a seat in the waiting area.” I was confused at her
response. This was not grinning kind of news. I told her thank you and started
to turn around when she stopped me. “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know. I’m
an adoptive mother too. My child is 35 years old, and I just think it’s
wonderful what you are doing… Can I give you a hug?”
And I knew in that moment that this hospital experience was
going to be very, very different.
About an hour or so later, our caseworker arrived and
greased a few wheels. She took me back to our birth mother’s room where we
waited for David. But before he arrived, they brought her in. Our baby girl,
they brought her into the room. With little notice or fanfare, they wheeled her
in and placed her in my arms. I wish I could tell you that the moment was
magical. That all of the worry and doubt and fear and anxiety disappeared in
her sweet, beautiful face. And let’s just be honest, she really does have a
beautiful face. But I wasn’t ready to give my heart away. I wanted to love her
with reckless abandon, but I just couldn’t do it. Not just yet.
After David arrived, and we spent a few hours with her, they
told us about Reba’s
Ranch House. Y’all… Reba’s Ranch House is awesome. Established by Ms. Reba
McEntire herself, it exists for out of town visitors of hospital patients. Since
there weren’t enough rooms for us to stay with the baby, we spent the night in
a room nicer than some hotels we’ve visited. I cannot emphasize enough what a
gift this was. Good sleep meant I was able to enjoy my time with baby girl in
the nursery and David was able to function during the day.
[Note: David is finishing up the academy now, but they are
very strict about absences. For every hour he missed, David had to write a
one-page paper on the subject he missed. That meant he was absent for much of
the hospital experience, which is kind of a bummer. But we know it will be
worth it in the long-run.]
[Additional note: props to the L&D nursing staff at Texoma Medical Center. Amazingly helpful, sweet and supportive.]
Over the next day and a half, it became harder and harder to
resist her smile. (Yes, I know it’s probably gas, but you know what I mean…)
And more and more, I became anxious about birth mother’s decision. “God, if
this is not our baby, why are you letting me bond with her…? I can’t go through
this again…” Almost hourly (if not more) I had to submit my fears to him and
ask for his help. To remind myself that he is sovereign and good and
trustworthy. And that his steadfast love never ceases.
************
The final hours were the hardest. Our caseworker had
prepared us for any outcome. She had had birth mothers change their minds at
the last second, and I knew all too well that it was a possibility. My parents,
who had come to wait with me, stepped out to grab a bite for lunch, knowing
that we would have a long drive ahead regardless of the outcome. So I sat in
silence and breathed in the Lord’s peace.
The door to our little room opened, and my heart skipped a
beat. But I exhaled when I saw that it was just the doctor and nurse coming for
a quick checkup. “Are you ready to take this baby home?” she asked. “Well… I’m
still waiting to hear that birth mom has signed paperwork….” “Oh they’re done.
I just saw our social worker wrapping everything up.”
Wait, what….?? It was done? She’s ours…….?? I get to take
her home……….???
Tears and more tears and apologies for the tears and then
more tears after that…. I just. couldn’t. believe it.
************
The next few hours were nuts, and the weeks to follow are a
blur. Between the loss of Ruby, David’s absence at the hospital and the sleep
deprivation known to any new parent, we are still kinda pinching ourselves.
There are times I forget that she’s here. Until she softly sighs in her sleep
---- or screams at the top her lungs. We know that she is ours, but it’s not
completely final. We are blessed to know more fully the “already, but not yet.”
One thing that makes it more real – giving her a name. I won’t
go into how we picked it, but her name means “loveable.” And I like the traditional spelling of Mabel,
but I love the reminder that He is able. He is able to mend a wounded heart. He
is able to fortify the weak – to make brave the fearful. He is able redeem even
the most dark and broken of circumstances. And he is able to make real even the
most impossible of dreams.
If things had gone my way a month ago, I would be golden
brown right now (okay, probably kinda orange with a whole lot of freckles.) I
would have spent the last few days with friends, laughing and lounging and
loving the beach. Instead, I’m sitting on my couch on my eighth wedding
anniversary - exhausted and pastey and happy as can be. My husband is studying,
the dogs are at rest, and my daughter – my
daughter….. is sleeping soundly in
the corner.
For your prayers, thank you. For your texts and notes and
calls and meals, thank you. For reading this darn blog all the way to the end,
thank you.
Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me, bless
his holy name.