Candice was admitted to the hospital last Thursday morning. Within a couple hours both Zach and I were walking into her room to introduce ourselves for the first time. The encounter was pleasant- Candice immediately set us at ease with her smile and sense of humor. We felt instantly comfortable with her. However, we'd had such anxiety leading up to our meeting her, so much for Zach that he had neglected to eat anything before heading to the hospital. The combination of no food, nerves, and a strong discomfort in hospitals, led to the inevitable… Zach passed out and fell to the floor in Candice's room. It was scary for me to watch, concerning for Candice, but ultimately became a great ice breaker and something we all laughed about for the next few days. :-)
Candice had a small handful of family and friends visiting her on and off. Once we knew her labor would likely take at least a full day or more, we weren't sure what our role would be or how much she'd want us around. As it turned out, Candice was more than happy to have one or both of us at her side at all times. For the next three days either Zach or I kept constant vigil in her room, and a unique, beautiful relationship was formed. We tried to keep things as "routine" for P.J as possible during our visits to the hospital, so I tried to be home with her during most of the day while Zach stayed with Candice, and then we'd switch so that Zach could sleep at home with P.J and I slept on the couch in Candice's room for the 2 nights she was in labor. Zach had authentic, trusting interactions with Candice, her dad, her grandma, and her friends. He was able to, as I say, "put on his Pastor hat" and engage with Candice in a genuine way that earned her trust. He learned so much about her and her family by simply putting in time. I pray he gave her a solid, Christ-like example of what a man should be, an example so evidently missing in her own life. While Zach built trust and relationships with Candice and her crew, my approach was more subtle. I chose to remain a quiet presence. When all her friends and family had left at the end of the day, she had no one to sit by her through the night. I didn't think it was right to leave her all alone, so I camped out in her room and was there to help her in and out of the bathroom, refresh her apple juice, turn up the tv, and tape down her iv's. It was an odd bonding experience, we two mothers, having only known each other for a day or two, sharing a room and an intimacy that seemed so unnatural, yet I wouldn't have had it any other way.
In all of the hours we clocked with Candice leading up to her delivery, we came to discover that neither she, nor her situation were quite as bleak as we had been led to believe. Candice was very mature, level-headed, and bright. She showed a great deal of regard for the baby's life, and voiced very openly her reasons for choosing adoption (she was product of foster care and didn't want the baby to have the life that she did). She had received more prenatal care than we were originally told and she had medical insurance too. The birth father, Eric, was indeed still in the picture, though just as a close friend, not a boyfriend. He even showed up at the hospital a couple of times to visit Candice, a blindside for us, but in the end we were glad to say we at least met him. He wasn't the most pleasant of personalities but he seemed to show great affection for Candice. He works the graveyard shift at a local gas station, but other than that we didn't learn much about him. He seemed a bit suspicious and uncomfortable with us. The feeling, quite honestly, was mutual.
Throughout those nearly three days of waiting around for Candice to give birth, I had several emotional breakdowns. A person can only handle so much internal turmoil. I struggled with leaving P.J so often without being able to fully explain to her why I was so distracted and emotionally fragile.
I called Jen at our adoption agency (my rock for all things adoption related for the last 5 years), and voiced my fears for the entire situation. I was especially fearful of being in the delivery room like Candice had asked, if for no other reason than I didn't want that memory burned in my brain if the baby didn't end up in my arms. She validated that yes, we indeed had every reason to stay guarded and fearful given our history, but she truly believed Candice had given no inclination of faltering on her decision, and the fact that she welcomed Zach and I stay with her 24/7 proved it. Jen said, "You need to give yourself permission to be excited, to be happy! I know it's terrifying, but you have to let yourself go there." I knew she was right.
After over 55 hours of labor Candice had finally dilated enough to begin pushing. She had asked for both Zach and me to be in the room for the delivery, but we determined it would be in Zach's best interest for him to wait in the hall. :-) I stayed, however, and if you know me at all you'll know this was a VERY big deal for me. I am squeamish about all things pregnancy related, and there's nothing I hate more than hearing someone's labor & delivery story. Pregnancy, I've always been convinced, just isn't for me. After spending nearly 3 days with a woman in labor, I can firmly report that my opinion on the matter hasn't changed in the slightest. The Lord is amazing though, and I believe He flipped a switch in me that made it possible for me to remain by Candice's side through it all without ever feeling physically ill, not even in the slightest. I sat by her head and cheered her on through every contraction, absolutely amazed at the strength and courage this young woman had to put her body through such torture, knowing it would only end in joy for someone else. It was an amazingly terrifying two hours. When the baby finally arrived, my brave face disappeared and I fell apart. I held Candice's hand, stroked her hair and couldn't stop saying, "Thank you. Thank you." She squeezed my hand and assured me she knew this baby was going to a loving family. It was a brief but unforgettable moment that I will treasure in my heart for as long as I live.
While they were cleaning the baby up and getting all his stats, Candice said, "Anne, what's his name?" She had been asking Zach and I this for the last two days and we had tactfully side-stepped the question by saying we hadn't narrowed it down yet. I was afraid to tell her the name we'd chosen. What if she didn't like it? And what if I named him and then didn't go home with him? I had done that before and believed it made the loss so much worse. I didn't want to make that same mistake again. I quickly stepped out to the hall to confirm with Zach. We agreed to share our name for him thinking maybe that would help her to disconnect from him, if she considered him OUR son. So I went back in and said to her, "Justice Grant. What do you think of that?" She thought for a second and said, "I think that's perfect."
It had been discussed between Candice and us that she would hold the baby first, so once he was cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket, the nurse placed him on her chest. Her first words to him were, "Hi Justice! Welcome to the world." I knew right then and there, without a doubt, she was all in. Zach and I stood, watched, cried, and took a dozen pictures. We went with our gut in that moment and decided to step out and let Candice have time with the baby without us hovering over them. I wanted her to feel free to say whatever she wanted to him. By the time we returned about ten minutes later, she had already placed him back in the bassinet.
We awkwardly had to share a room with Candice for nearly 2 hours after Justice was born. They were preparing a room for us to be on our own with the baby but it wasn't ready yet. As uncomfortable as it was, I was glad we were there with her. Candice's friends and family had left within 20 minutes after the baby was born. She was all alone at the time when I believed she needed the most emotional support. Her womb was empty and so were her arms and no one was there to help her process that. I was devastated for her. I offered to call someone for her so she wouldn't be on her own, but there was no one to call. Even through her exhaustion Candice was still talkative with us, saying what a heartbreaker Justice was going to be some day. We gave her permission to hold him again or give him his bottle, but she declined. Later she was taken to another room to recover. We told her that if she wanted to see the baby again before he was discharged that we'd be happy to comply. She never did. And we never saw her again.
The next 36 hours we were in the hospital with Justice. I stayed with him around the clock while Zach went back and forth to be with P.J. Even though I felt peace about Candice remaining firm in her decision, I was still ticking off the hours of the 72 hour window until I knew she could sign off her rights. I refrained from calling Justice by his name, or referring to myself as "Mommy," until we left the hospital. I was still loving on him and taking great care of him, but I was hesitant to consider him "mine." My role, as I saw it, was to love on and prayer over that little guy for as long as he was in my life, even if it was just for a few more hours. We kept his name a secret from everyone but the nurses until we got home with him Sunday night.
The next morning as I sat alone with Justice in our hospital room, Candice's dad, John, dropped in. He had been in and out during her two days in labor, and had left the hospital about an hour before Justice was born, never to return again that day. Zach had had a significant connection with him, and though my encounters with him were brief, they were very positive. John very shyly asked if it would be ok if he met the baby. I, of course, said he could. The next twenty minutes were beautiful. I asked, "Would you like to hold him?" He said, humbly, "Ya know I really would." Watching my Justice with his biological grandfather is burned in my memory. We talked about Candice and our shared hope of her getting another shot at motherhood. We talked about why Zach and I chose the name Justice and what it meant to us. John seemed to love it as much as we did. Mostly though, John just seemed grateful to us for giving his grandson a life that he deserved, and he was especially appreciative that I allowed him to hold him and get the closure he needed. I hadn't even thought twice about it.
We were told by a nurse that Eric, the birth father, had dropped by the hospital the night before, asking to see the baby. When told they would need to get permission from the adoptive parents first, Eric said he didn't have time for that and promptly left. He never returned. We would have let him see the baby if he had only taken the time. It will forever be his loss.
To explain my constant absence at home once Justice was born, Zach had been telling P.J that I was helping out another mommy at the hospital. He brought PJ to visit me the morning after Justice was born, and we introduce her to him saying that his mommy wasn't able to take care of him so we were helping out. P.J seemed satisfied with that and became utterly fascinated by the baby. She loved watching us change his diaper, give him a bath, swaddle his blanket, etc. She constantly commented on how cute and little he was. It was adorable. Later that day when the baby was being discharged, we told her that Justice's mommy had asked us to take him home with us and adopt him, just like we had adopted P.J We explained that his mommy wasn't able to take care of him the way she wanted to, just like Jacquelyn (P.J's birth mom). She seemed to understand this. We then asked, "What do you think? Should we bring Justice home to be part of our family?" P.J replied, VERY enthusiastically, "I think that's a great idea!" From that moment on she has been proudly announcing her big sister status and introducing "baby Justice" has "my baby" and "my little brother." Her enthusiasm and joy has yet to wear off, eight days later.
We were not too surprised to learn Candice had signed off her rights on Tuesday, when her 72 hour window was up. Her attorney had assured us she was committed and proud of the decision she was making. Unfortunately Eric has not signed yet. We are not at all concerned he will contest the adoption or ask to parent, but we aren't confident he will make it quick and easy for us either. We'll just have to wait it out. Regardless, Justice is no less ours. He is our son, one hundred percent.
I know there will never be enough words, enough time, enough ways to say 'thank you' to all of you who prayed us here. We were so incredibly humbled and blown away by the texts, calls, and messages we received over the last two weeks. We can assure you that your prayers were felt, heard, and appreciated. We believe strongly in the power of prayer. Our daughter, Providence, is living proof that God is faithful and His timing is perfect. We are overjoyed to now have two children we can share God's love with and tell them how much they were prayed for even before they were born, and that God rallied His people to pray both of them into our forever family. Providence and Justice, names that will serve as a constant reminder of God's presence and faithfulness in each of their stories.
 |
| Candice and Justice during their first and last moments together. |
Several times this week P.J has asked me, "Is baby Justice staying with us forever and ever?" I love being able to confidently answer, "Yes. Forever and ever and ever."
