Tonight something prompted me to write a new post after nearly 4 years of blog silence. I was thinking about a recent conversation with our daughter, Providence, on the eve of her "Gotchya Day," (the day we celebrate officially adopting her in court), and I found myself wanting desperately to write it down, so as not to forget how meaningful it was. Before I started writing I scrolled through my last few posts, written soon after the birth of our now 4 year old son. I became emotional at the memories it stirred up and I remembered why I kept this blog in the first place. It's been a beautiful outlet, a haven of sorts as my husband and I have traveled the hard roads of two different adoptions. Once those journeys ended, the writing stopped. I guess the blog didn't seem necessary anymore. But now, as my children age and conversations about their unique stories become more and more frequent, I'm realizing this journey is only just beginning.
It's funny how I practically forget that I'm not just a mom, but I'm an adoptive mom, which places me in an entirely different category than nearly all my fellow mom friends. I forget until one of my children asks me about their birth mom. Only then am I reminded that there are things I will never be able to give my children, gaps in their story I can't fill in, pieces of their history and their identity I can't reveal, try as I might.
In my most recent conversation with Providence, who is now nearly 8 years old, we covered a variety of questions regarding her adoption, including the purpose of legalizing an adoption and why we have birth certificates. Many of her questions were the same as they'd been in previous conversations, and my answers are always consistent. But this time she got more specific. She wanted to see her original birth certificate. She wanted to see what her birth mother's handwriting looked like. She wanted to know why her birth mother hadn't told her own parents about the pregnancy. She wanted to know how her birth mother didn't even know the name of her birth father. She wanted to know how she was like her birth mother, aside from just her physical appearance. I answered all of these questions with words I can only credit to the Holy Spirit. He swoops in every time these conversations happen and I'm so incredibly grateful.
Something had changed in Providence though. The information I was giving her was the same as any other time, but she responded with emotion, deep and genuine. She's always been so matter-of-fact about her story, so practical. But on this night, I saw deep disappointment in her face when I couldn't tell her anything about her birth father. And though we've talked about what she has in common with her birth mom, this time she lit up from the inside out when she saw all the similarities in personality they have. It's never seemed to matter to her more than it did that night.
Later she asked if Jacquelyn (her birth mother) has ever asked about her. This one was hard. The truth is, Jacquelyn's never asked for information or contact of any kind, even though we've left that door open to her. I would LOVE to to let Jacquelyn know how brilliant, beautiful, compassionate and artistic our daughter is. I assured Providence that her birth mother's silence is no indication of her love for her. I believe the reason her birth mother's never asked about her is because she trusts me and Zach so implicitly, and in her heart of hearts she knows Providence is healthy, happy, and thriving. We pray that even if we never get to tell her ourselves, God will assure her and give her peace that Providence is safe and well. But grown up emotions are so complicated and so hard to explain to a child. There are no simple answers.
Providence understands, truly and completely, why she was placed for adoption. She knows all about the heartache Zach and I endured as we waited through closed door after closed door to become parents. But on this night, her eyes filled with tears as it dawned on her what Jacquelyn went through. "It must have made her REALLY sad to give me away. I bet that was SO hard." The empathy level of my 7 year old had me in total awe. We both cried as we talked about the courage, bravery and profound love Jacquelyn had as she made the decision to give Providence a family, and how her heartbreak was simultaneously the biggest answered prayer Zach and I had ever received. Oh that every child could understand sacrificial love in the way my daughter does. I pray her adoption serves as a clear and beautiful example to her of Jesus' profound love for her and His children.
Finally, not for the first time, Providence asked me if Jacquelyn knows Jesus. I didn't know the answer to this, but I told her we pray if she doesn't know Him yet, that she'll come to know Him very soon. Again she became teary eyed as she said, "Oh Mommy, I really hope she knows Jesus."
In the end, we shared how grateful we both were that God placed Providence in our family, and that she is ours forever and ever. She doesn't question why she's ours and I pray she never does. The door for these conversations will always be open, and I'm glad she knows that too.
Monday, August 26, 2019
Saturday, September 26, 2015
And the questions begin
We have always been very open with Providence about her adoption, and as she gets older we've added more to the story based on the questions she asks and what we think she's ready to understand. In the last year we've begun telling her a little bit about her birthmother (who we simply refer to as Miss Jacquelyn so as not to confuse P.J with the term "mother" or "mom"). Going through the adoption process for Justice was so helpful as P.J got to witness things firsthand and connect the dots to her own story. Since Justice's birth P.J has been asking much more detailed questions about Jacquelyn and her own adoption.
So last week as I was walking by P.J's room, nearly an hour after she'd gone to bed, I heard her say, "My friend at school said that having a baby in your belly is what makes you a mommy." I stopped and turned on my heels, took a deep breath, and sat at her bedside. God is so good and He comes through for me every time I get thrown these curveballs. I had to explain to my daughter that night that just having a baby in your belly is not what makes you a mommy. P.J had already begun asking me several times a week just how she got IN and then OUT of Jacquelyn's belly, so I knew it was on her mind, but I'd never had to explain that Jacquelyn wasn't really her "mommy," before. It was tough to explain, but I was able to help P.J understand that even though Jacquelyn carried her in her belly for 9 whole months, when P.J was born, Jacquelyn just wasn't ready to be a mommy, because she knew she couldn't give P.J everything a baby needed, and THAT is what a mommy does. So she asked ME to be P.J's mommy for her. We talked about all the ways that I'm P.J's mommy, even though I've never had a baby in my belly. It was a good conversation and I feel P.J had a good understanding of things when I left her room.
I came downstairs and began telling Zach about the conversation, and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. It was the first time when I felt a little out of control. P.J was told something at school that wasn't necessarily untrue, but it is where P.J's story is concerned. She is different than nearly all of her friends in that she didn't grow in her Mommy's belly. An innocent conversation among preschoolers led to a lengthy conversation at home about how P.J came to be, and how it wasn't the same as her friends. At the age of 3 1/2, this is not a big deal. P.J knows her adoption is what makes her special and that God chose her to be our daughter. She knows she's the answer to years of prayers, and she knows without a doubt that WE are her Mommy & Daddy. She is not insecure about this in any way….yet. But it was hard for me to know that already, at her age, that what she's being told at home is being "challenged" by her friends at school. That she will be told things and asked things her whole young life by kids who just assume that she's a biological child like they are, and may not understand how beautiful and amazing her adoption story is.
That was just the beginning, because tonight, again as I was walking past her room way after her bedtime, P.J asked to see pictures of Jacquelyn. (We have several that we keep in the back of P.J's baby book, and she's seen them several times before.) I was tired and I wanted P.J to go to sleep, but I decided that I never want to decline when she asks about Jacquelyn or her adoption. I want her to know it's an open subject at all times and that she never has to worry about asking me anything. So I came in, turned her bedroom light on and grabbed her baby book from the closet. We spread Jacquelyn's pictures out on the bed and P.J fired question after question. I shared more about Jacquelyn with P.J tonight than I ever have. We talked about what Jacquelyn looked like, where she worked, what her hobbies were, and for the first time ever, P.J asked about the man that Jacquelyn made a baby with. It was hard for me to tell my daughter that we don't know anything about him, what he looks like, or his name. We talked about how God tells us that only a man and woman who are married should make a baby together, and why Jacquelyn wasn't married, and why Zach and I have never made a baby together even though we're married. We talked about how we found out about P.J and Jacquelyn and who took care of her until we got to the hospital. Every time I thought we were done, P.J would ask, "Mommy, can I ask you another question about Jacquelyn?"
Whew. It was a lot, but I'm confident in the answers I gave her because I felt the Lord providing me with words quickly and concisely, and I watched P.J's face light up and receive every word with assurance. Especially when I told her about the "happy tears" we cried when we met her for the first time because we'd been so sad and so brokenhearted for a long time, praying for God to bring us a baby. She asked me if we stopped praying once we got her, and she got the biggest grin on her face when I said, "No, we kept praying, but we prayed thanks to God for putting you in our family." But the best part (and also the most emotional part), was when I pulled P.J onto my lap and said, "Can I tell you one more thing about Jacquelyn? She was SO brave, and she loved you SO much. Do you know how I know that? Because she saw how beautiful you were and she made a hard choice. She chose to give you to a family who could take care of you. She knew it was better for you to have a Mommy and Daddy who would love you and take care of you forever. We thank God for Jacquelyn every day, because she gave us you."I've never seen my kid look more confident and loved than she did after hearing that.
So many emotions swirling in my heart tonight, but the main one is thankfulness…overwhelming thankfulness to the woman who handed over her role as "Mommy" to me and trusted me and Zach with the most beautiful little girl, the most courageous and selfless thing she will ever do.
I came downstairs and began telling Zach about the conversation, and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. It was the first time when I felt a little out of control. P.J was told something at school that wasn't necessarily untrue, but it is where P.J's story is concerned. She is different than nearly all of her friends in that she didn't grow in her Mommy's belly. An innocent conversation among preschoolers led to a lengthy conversation at home about how P.J came to be, and how it wasn't the same as her friends. At the age of 3 1/2, this is not a big deal. P.J knows her adoption is what makes her special and that God chose her to be our daughter. She knows she's the answer to years of prayers, and she knows without a doubt that WE are her Mommy & Daddy. She is not insecure about this in any way….yet. But it was hard for me to know that already, at her age, that what she's being told at home is being "challenged" by her friends at school. That she will be told things and asked things her whole young life by kids who just assume that she's a biological child like they are, and may not understand how beautiful and amazing her adoption story is.
That was just the beginning, because tonight, again as I was walking past her room way after her bedtime, P.J asked to see pictures of Jacquelyn. (We have several that we keep in the back of P.J's baby book, and she's seen them several times before.) I was tired and I wanted P.J to go to sleep, but I decided that I never want to decline when she asks about Jacquelyn or her adoption. I want her to know it's an open subject at all times and that she never has to worry about asking me anything. So I came in, turned her bedroom light on and grabbed her baby book from the closet. We spread Jacquelyn's pictures out on the bed and P.J fired question after question. I shared more about Jacquelyn with P.J tonight than I ever have. We talked about what Jacquelyn looked like, where she worked, what her hobbies were, and for the first time ever, P.J asked about the man that Jacquelyn made a baby with. It was hard for me to tell my daughter that we don't know anything about him, what he looks like, or his name. We talked about how God tells us that only a man and woman who are married should make a baby together, and why Jacquelyn wasn't married, and why Zach and I have never made a baby together even though we're married. We talked about how we found out about P.J and Jacquelyn and who took care of her until we got to the hospital. Every time I thought we were done, P.J would ask, "Mommy, can I ask you another question about Jacquelyn?"
Whew. It was a lot, but I'm confident in the answers I gave her because I felt the Lord providing me with words quickly and concisely, and I watched P.J's face light up and receive every word with assurance. Especially when I told her about the "happy tears" we cried when we met her for the first time because we'd been so sad and so brokenhearted for a long time, praying for God to bring us a baby. She asked me if we stopped praying once we got her, and she got the biggest grin on her face when I said, "No, we kept praying, but we prayed thanks to God for putting you in our family." But the best part (and also the most emotional part), was when I pulled P.J onto my lap and said, "Can I tell you one more thing about Jacquelyn? She was SO brave, and she loved you SO much. Do you know how I know that? Because she saw how beautiful you were and she made a hard choice. She chose to give you to a family who could take care of you. She knew it was better for you to have a Mommy and Daddy who would love you and take care of you forever. We thank God for Jacquelyn every day, because she gave us you."I've never seen my kid look more confident and loved than she did after hearing that.
So many emotions swirling in my heart tonight, but the main one is thankfulness…overwhelming thankfulness to the woman who handed over her role as "Mommy" to me and trusted me and Zach with the most beautiful little girl, the most courageous and selfless thing she will ever do.
Dear Mom of an Adopted Child
I found this via a Facebook post last May and have been meaning to share it on our blog. I could have written it myself it's so perfectly worded. To those who've ever wondered how it's different for me to be an adoptive mom, please read.
Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,
I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son's school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.
It doesn't matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.
Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn't in God's plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin's neighbor's friend. Maybe you ignored them.
Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.
Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that's what we do, isn't it?
I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes -- but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.
I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes -- so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.
I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.
I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.
Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby's room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.
I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.
And I know about the follow-up visits, when you hadn't slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.
And I've seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what's being promised and what's not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.
I've seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that's emerging. I've seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn't have to go through with this. I've seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments -- while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.
I've seen you look down into a newborn infant's eyes, wondering if he's really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.
And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.
I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.
I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn't even know you were holding for months. Months.
I've seen you meet your child's birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I've seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile ... people who love him because he's one of them. I've seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he's shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.
I've seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things -- but you can't protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.
I've seen you at the doctor's office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little spaces don't turn into big problems later on.
I've seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?
I've seen you wonder how you'll react the first time you hear the dreaded, "You're not my real mom." And I've seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.
I've seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being that it is the other way around.
But most of all, I want you to know that I've seen you look into your child's eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that's just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter -- and whose loss would be like the loss of yourself.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Legacy of an Adopted Child
A couple years ago I found this poem in a beautiful printed frame & I bought it for P.J's bedroom. Today, on Mother's Day, I find it especially touching as I think of the two women who brought my children into the world. I am forever grateful to them both.
"Legacy of an Adopted Child"
Once there were two women who never knew each other,
One - you do not remember, the other you call mother.
Two different lives shaped to make yours,
One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.
The first gave you life, and the second taught you to live in it.
The first gave you a need for love and the second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.
One gave you the seed of talent; the other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.
One saw your first sweet smile; the other dried your tears.
One gave you up - that's all she could do.
The other prayed for a child and God led her straight to you.
Now you ask through all your tears the age-old question through the years;
Heredity or environment - which are you a product of?
Neither, my darling - neither - just two different kinds of love.
One - you do not remember, the other you call mother.
Two different lives shaped to make yours,
One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.
The first gave you life, and the second taught you to live in it.
The first gave you a need for love and the second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.
One gave you the seed of talent; the other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.
One saw your first sweet smile; the other dried your tears.
One gave you up - that's all she could do.
The other prayed for a child and God led her straight to you.
Now you ask through all your tears the age-old question through the years;
Heredity or environment - which are you a product of?
Neither, my darling - neither - just two different kinds of love.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
and Justice makes four
It's difficult to know where to begin. Our journey up to this point has been moment-to-moment of emotional meltdowns, anxiety induced nausea, tears of gratitude, sighs of relief, prayers for peace, courage under fire, utter frustration, very little sleep, and total amazement at the power of prayer. When all is said and done though, we are overjoyed to say we are at home together as a family of FOUR, with sweet Justice Grant in our arms and forever in our hearts.
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.
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."
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."
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
A break in the clouds
After praying and petitioning the Lord for "just closure, PLEASE," we finally got some information today. We have been in the dark for a couple weeks now, watching Candice's due date come and go, not knowing if she had the baby and chose to parent, left the baby at the hospital, or if she was still pregnant. It's been a heavy weight on our hearts and it's caused both Zach and I to go in and out of heaviness and emotionally flat-lining. Today, a break in the clouds…
Today Candice finally picked up the phone and called our adoption agency, a very important step in the right direction. She also called her attorney and touched base, another big step. She is still planning on placing the baby for adoption and she is scheduled to be induced this Thursday at 7:30am. When asked if she wanted to meet us before Thursday, she declined, but she said she'd be fine with us being at the hospital. So our plan is to go meet her Thursday morning once she gets settled into her hospital room and gauge the situation. Since the hospital is less than 3 miles from our house, we'll be able to tag team throughout the day (assuming she will be in labor most of the day, since she isn't dilated at all yet) and work things out logistically with PJ's babysitter as things progress.
Candice's attorney will meet with her and have her sign consent forms giving Zach and I power of attorney for the baby so that we can make medical decisions for him, etc. Once the baby is 72 hours old, Candice's rights will be forfeited permanently. Her attorney will also be serving the birth father with consent forms, so we're praying he signs off without a problem (if not, he has 30 days to contest).
We've spoken with our attorney as well and put things in motion.
While things at this point look positive, we know all too well that there is still a lot of time for the situation to shift out of our favor. At this point we are praying for the baby's health more than anything else. Without any real prenatal care, we just don't know what his condition will be. We are also praying for continued courage and wisdom for Candice to act in the baby's best interest. Please continue to pray that she will be come to know the Lord through this life changing decision, and that her life will turn a positive corner when all is said and done. Pray also for our time with her on Thursday. Though we've done it many times before, meeting a birth mom is just plain ol' awkward and uncomfortable. There is no stranger and more complicated relationship than that between a birth mom and adoptive parents.
Regardless of the outcome, we are confident the Lord's will will prevail. And if nothing else, having Candice and her situation brought to our attention has caused an enormous army of prayer warriors to begin a Godly warfare on her behalf, and that is worth every minute of emotional topsy turvy that we've endured the last two weeks.
Today Candice finally picked up the phone and called our adoption agency, a very important step in the right direction. She also called her attorney and touched base, another big step. She is still planning on placing the baby for adoption and she is scheduled to be induced this Thursday at 7:30am. When asked if she wanted to meet us before Thursday, she declined, but she said she'd be fine with us being at the hospital. So our plan is to go meet her Thursday morning once she gets settled into her hospital room and gauge the situation. Since the hospital is less than 3 miles from our house, we'll be able to tag team throughout the day (assuming she will be in labor most of the day, since she isn't dilated at all yet) and work things out logistically with PJ's babysitter as things progress.
Candice's attorney will meet with her and have her sign consent forms giving Zach and I power of attorney for the baby so that we can make medical decisions for him, etc. Once the baby is 72 hours old, Candice's rights will be forfeited permanently. Her attorney will also be serving the birth father with consent forms, so we're praying he signs off without a problem (if not, he has 30 days to contest).
We've spoken with our attorney as well and put things in motion.
While things at this point look positive, we know all too well that there is still a lot of time for the situation to shift out of our favor. At this point we are praying for the baby's health more than anything else. Without any real prenatal care, we just don't know what his condition will be. We are also praying for continued courage and wisdom for Candice to act in the baby's best interest. Please continue to pray that she will be come to know the Lord through this life changing decision, and that her life will turn a positive corner when all is said and done. Pray also for our time with her on Thursday. Though we've done it many times before, meeting a birth mom is just plain ol' awkward and uncomfortable. There is no stranger and more complicated relationship than that between a birth mom and adoptive parents.
Regardless of the outcome, we are confident the Lord's will will prevail. And if nothing else, having Candice and her situation brought to our attention has caused an enormous army of prayer warriors to begin a Godly warfare on her behalf, and that is worth every minute of emotional topsy turvy that we've endured the last two weeks.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Praying for justice
Today I received a phone call from a family friend of Candice's. She felt compelled to talk with me and ask me to join her in prayer for both Candice and the baby. She hasn't been able to reach Candice or Candice's dad for over a week. She shared with me much more about Candice's situation and my heart went from heavy to heavier.
Candice dropped out of high school after the 9th grade, never got a driver's license (she takes a bus to work), has 2 nieces who are being bounced from home to home w/out a father or child support, a father who works 12 hour shifts and does nothing more than put a roof over her head (he has no interest in the baby or supporting Candice), and a step-mom who is already raising a 3yr. old for another family and is struggling to make ends meet. She has been unwilling to receive prenatal care, and only went in to the hospital 3 weeks ago at the insistence of this family friend who is a nurse. It was there she found out her due date, etc. The baby's heartbeat was strong and he had dropped, but she was not dilated at all. The nurse who examined her strongly encouraged her to see a doctor to ensure the baby's lungs were developing well (she's smokes, has low iron, and is obese), but Candice refused. Her friend shared that while Candice is 26, she has the mentality and attitude of a young teenager. She doesn't think Candice has any real value for her own life or the baby's.
At this point, our agency's hands are tied until they hear from Candice. Without a phone call from her, there is no way of knowing what's happening. Even if she waits until she goes into labor, she has to call our agency from the hospital and request the attorney in order for us to move forward with an adoption plan. If she doesn't do this, the baby will very likely go into CPS custody, even if Candice says she wants to parent (given her situation and decline of prenatal care, the hospital social worker will make the call in the best interest of the child). We are praying Candice has a strong enough state of mind to not let this happen since she knows there is a family in place that's able to give the baby a home.
It is incredibly frustrating to know all Candice has to do is pick up phone for us to have any clue what's going on, and it's the one thing she won't do, for whatever reason.
The entire situation is a sad mess, and my heart breaks for this little boy who is coming into the world so innocently and unknowing of what his life might be. It is situations like this that so strongly remind me why Zach and I have chosen adoption over having children of our own. Babies don't get to choose their family, they are at the whim of their birth parents and the choices they've made, right or wrong. I believe God brings beauty from the ashes, and I believe all the more that He is a God of justice, and somehow His will will come to fruition in this situation. Please continue to pray hard for Candice, her family, and this baby, that they will be compelled to make a loving, selfless, and wise decision for this child. Pray also for Candice to take notice of God's deep and wide love for her, that she will know she is valued and seen by her Creator, and that He wants His very best for her. Her life can be so much more than this, if she'll only open her heart to see Him.
"Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!" Isaiah 31:18
Candice dropped out of high school after the 9th grade, never got a driver's license (she takes a bus to work), has 2 nieces who are being bounced from home to home w/out a father or child support, a father who works 12 hour shifts and does nothing more than put a roof over her head (he has no interest in the baby or supporting Candice), and a step-mom who is already raising a 3yr. old for another family and is struggling to make ends meet. She has been unwilling to receive prenatal care, and only went in to the hospital 3 weeks ago at the insistence of this family friend who is a nurse. It was there she found out her due date, etc. The baby's heartbeat was strong and he had dropped, but she was not dilated at all. The nurse who examined her strongly encouraged her to see a doctor to ensure the baby's lungs were developing well (she's smokes, has low iron, and is obese), but Candice refused. Her friend shared that while Candice is 26, she has the mentality and attitude of a young teenager. She doesn't think Candice has any real value for her own life or the baby's.
At this point, our agency's hands are tied until they hear from Candice. Without a phone call from her, there is no way of knowing what's happening. Even if she waits until she goes into labor, she has to call our agency from the hospital and request the attorney in order for us to move forward with an adoption plan. If she doesn't do this, the baby will very likely go into CPS custody, even if Candice says she wants to parent (given her situation and decline of prenatal care, the hospital social worker will make the call in the best interest of the child). We are praying Candice has a strong enough state of mind to not let this happen since she knows there is a family in place that's able to give the baby a home.
It is incredibly frustrating to know all Candice has to do is pick up phone for us to have any clue what's going on, and it's the one thing she won't do, for whatever reason.
The entire situation is a sad mess, and my heart breaks for this little boy who is coming into the world so innocently and unknowing of what his life might be. It is situations like this that so strongly remind me why Zach and I have chosen adoption over having children of our own. Babies don't get to choose their family, they are at the whim of their birth parents and the choices they've made, right or wrong. I believe God brings beauty from the ashes, and I believe all the more that He is a God of justice, and somehow His will will come to fruition in this situation. Please continue to pray hard for Candice, her family, and this baby, that they will be compelled to make a loving, selfless, and wise decision for this child. Pray also for Candice to take notice of God's deep and wide love for her, that she will know she is valued and seen by her Creator, and that He wants His very best for her. Her life can be so much more than this, if she'll only open her heart to see Him.
"Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!" Isaiah 31:18
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