The beginning of the end

We flew to Detroit, Michigan on Friday afternoon. Before departing we had a lot of paperwork to sign, get notarized, and fax. Between that, packing, and arranging things for our dog-sitter, we were pretty frantic. All the while we were just anticipating the phone call to tell us the birthmom had already changed her mind. We purchased travel insurance on our plane tickets, rental car and hotel reservations.... we weren't taking any chances. We were sort of hoping that if it was all going to fall apart, that it would happen before we got ourselves all the way out to Michigan.... that wasn't what happened. We'd spend nearly $1,000 in travel expenses before learning it was all for nothing.

We arrived near midnight in Detroit, so we talked to Adrianna (the birthmom) and asked her if she'd prefer we wait to come to the hospital in the morning. We were a bit relieved when she said 'yes.' We were exhausted and hungry, and we knew we'd feel more calm and confident if we had a good night's sleep before we faced her and the baby. We were just grateful she was still talking with us- it was a good sign. Every minute she didn't change her mind was a step forward. We didn't sleep very well that night.

The next morning we arrived at the hospital around 9am. We knew Adrianna would be meeting with the social worker from a Michigan adoption agency at 10am. (B/c it was to be an out-of-state adoption, we had to work with both a CA and a MI adoption agency, plus our own adoption lawyer, and a hospital social worker... there were a lot of people involved and a lot of checks to write- fortunately most all the money was refundable.) We tried to eat something from the hospital cafeteria but we were too anxious to eat. We went up to her room about 30 minutes before the social worker arrived. On the way up the elevator we were both so nauseas and tearful. We'd never gotten that far before...

Before entering Adrianna's room we met the hospital social worker, Sandy. She instantly made us feel comfortable and we knew she was advocating for us. We formed a fast friendship. She'd had some good talks with Adrianna already and she assured us that everything would be okay. When we met Adrianna and her mom, neither were very talkative or even seemed to be interested in who we were. It was incredibly awkward. She did, however, ask us if we'd like to see the baby (down the hall, in the nursery). We said we would, but after we left her room we decided to hold off on meeting him until she'd met with the MI agency's social worker. We ran into Sandy on our way back down the hall and she invited us into the nursery to meet the baby... we told her this was our fifth time trying to adopt and that all the moms had changed their minds on us... we were trying to be very cautious and we didn't want to see him until we felt more confident that things would pull through. When she heard this, she teared up (causing us to tear up too). She just couldn't believe we'd been through so much already.

Back down in the lobby we met with Jill (the MI agency social worker) and signed a pile of paperwork. We were blessed by her as well, in that she set us at ease immediately. She was honest and upfront, and she was very sensitive to the fact that we'd been through this before. She met with Adrianna for a couple hours, asking her some tough questions and walking her through different scenarios. When Jill met up with us afterward she said she felt pretty confident that Adrianna was set in her decision to place the baby for adoption. Though she was young (19), she understood that she simply couldn't provide for a baby without a job, education, or financial support from family. Emotionally she was struggling, but she knew adoption was the right thing to do. Jill encouraged us to spend more time with her, and though it was hard, she wanted us to meet the baby and start bonding with him. Adrianna needed to see us with him in order to feel comfortable giving him to us. I began to cry just at the suggestion. "Do you know what you're asking?" I said. I wanted to keep my wall up until I knew he was really mine to keep. I couldn't bear the thought of holding him and bonding with him only to walk away.

We filled our hours in between hospital visits with phone calls home, keeping our parents and close friends in the loop as best we could. We were exhausted in every way possible, physically, emotionally and spiritually. The stress of not knowing what the next minute or hour would be like was awful. We kept saying, "I just want to know one way or the other. If Adrianna's going to bail out, she just needs to do it already and stop wasting our time. I hate being dragged along like this!"

That evening we returned to the hospital, checked in with Adrianna and then headed to the nursery. Sandy was there to introduce us to him. He was on a breathing monitor so we couldn't pick him up (we realize now the Lord was protecting us in this way), but we could touch him and talk to him. Zach reached out right away and grabbed his little hand, stroked his thick black hair and began talking to him. I stood back and watched, completely terrified. Sandy kept saying, "It's okay, he's yours. Go ahead." But he didn't feel mine. She set us up in a private room with him and she took some pictures. We asked a lot of questions about his health, what to do when we'd have to travel with him, etc. We had been told that Adrianna smoked marijuana regularly during her pregnancy so they were keeping the baby under watch for any side effects. We spent a full hour with him, and when we left we both agreed that while he was a beautiful baby... he just didn't feel like he was ours yet (again, a protective shield from the Lord).

Adrianna was being released from the hospital the next day and we weren't sure if we'd see her again, so we stopped in her room one more time to ask her what kind of contact she'd like after the adoption. She just shrugged and said she hadn't really thought about it. We left to head back to our hotel, and we anxiously counted down the hours until she would be out of the picture so we could freely spend time with the baby and not have to step around her. From the time she would be discharged, she'd have 24 hours before signing away her parental rights to us. We knew we wouldn't be taking a deep breath until that happened.

I don't even know where to begin in writing this post. The last week has been an absolute blur, and our time here in Michigan has been the worst emotional roller coaster ride we've ever endured in our entire adoption process.

I'll start from the end and work my way backwards....

This afternoon our adoption lawyer called us, and through his tears he told us Adrianna had changed her mind. She met with the social worker (Jill) from the Michigan adoption agency and told her that nothing had really changed, she still knew that she couldn't provide for a child, but she simply wanted to be his mom. That was it. She was digging her heels in. She was being stubborn, selfish, and nineteen years old. Her mind was not on the consequences this decision would have on us, and especially not on the baby. Unfortunately, we've seen this happen so many times before. Regardless of all the obvious, practical reasons a mother may have for not being able to support a baby, her heart & emotions take over and nothing but her own selfish desires matter.

What we also found out was that because the baby tested tox-positive when he was born (Adrianna smoked marijuana consistently during her pregnancy), CPS (Child Protective Services) was informed. Apparently they are already very familiar with Adrianna's family as they have removed children from the home before (her sister's kids). It's very likely the baby will not even be discharged to Adrianna at all, but rather to a foster home. This information angers us to no end. She is knowingly placing her son in the foster system rather than with us. Nobody wins, least of all the baby. It's absolutely heartbreaking.

We are walking the tightrope of holding it together, knowing God is still in control & He will use this pain somehow some way, and also completely collapsing under the weight of the pain, frustration, and complete disbelief that we are here for the fifth time in a row.

There is so much more we will share via blog over the next few days, about how we feel about all of this, about our time here in Michigan and about the incredible support we've had from social workers, hospital staff, and most especially our friends & family who have been texting, emailing, calling & Facebooking us through this entire ordeal. Without your prayers we could not stand. In the meantime we are feeling your prayers and are grateful for your support.

Here we go again... for the 5th time

This is getting a little ridiculous now... we've been matched with our FIFTH birthmom since our adoption contract began in May of 2010. We are hopeful (again), but certainly not the least bit excited (yet). Here's the scoop....

We received the phone call from our agency on Friday & we spoke with the birthmom Saturday morning. Her name is Adrianna, she is 19 years old, lives in Michigan, and her due date is today (Sept 12th). Both she & the birth father (who was out of the picture before it even began) are full African-American. She is completely healthy and so is baby, up to this point. More important than anything else (at least for us), is that her family & friends all know about her pregnancy & adoption plan, and they are all supportive. While we certainly know this doesn't guarantee anything, we feel much more comfortable knowing no family will come out of the woodwork last minute and change her mind.

When we asked her why she chose adoption for her baby, she explained that her situation is simply not conducive to raising a child. She and her three sisters live with her single, unemployed mom. They are all living off food stamps in a small house. Adrianna is also jobless and has not completed her GED. She has no way of supporting a baby and neither does her family. Upon hearing this we tried our best to encourage her (but really, what can you say?). We told her what we've told all the other birthmoms... that we respect and admire her for the selfless and loving decision she's making... that we'll make sure this child knows they were placed for adoption because they were so very loved and because their mother put their needs before her own. We assured her we were here to support her, no matter what the outcome ends up being.

Other things some of you may want to know- We don't know the gender of the baby, nor are we deciding on any names until we feel certain it will all work out. Adrianna has decided, for now, that she does not want any contact or updates from us after the baby is adopted. However, she would like to see & hold the baby after she delivers. So far she has not asked for any financial assistance from us, but if a need arises we would definitely be willing to come alongside her.

After so many times through this we've tried our hardest to make our focus the birthmom, not the baby. If we walk away from our relationship with her (with or without a baby) knowing we did our best to love, support, and pray for her, then we will have no regrets. It's a ministry, not an opportunity.

Some things you can be praying for Adrianna:

-Peace of mind in the decision she's made, that no matter what emotions may take over, she will stand firm in doing what is best for the child, not for herself.

-Relief from the discomfort she's feeling in these final days of her pregnancy, that she will be able to rest adequately.

-Comfort for her as she experiences anxiety and fear about the labor & delivery process. This is her first pregnancy and she's had little prenatal care/training.

-Total health and smooth sailing for both Adrianna and baby as they endure labor & delivery.

Something you can be praying for us:

-Protection of our hearts as we move forward with Adrianna, that we find a balance between connecting & building a trust with her, and staying guarded & detached.

-If we end up traveling to Michigan for the birth of the baby, that all the logistical things would fall into place and we can get there safely and without incident.

-That we would continue to surrender this entire thing to the Lord every minute of every day, trusting Him completely, no matter the outcome.

In the meantime, as we wait for things to either fall through or move forward (meaning we book a flight to Michigan when she goes into labor), I keep repeating Exodus 14:14 to myself... "The Lord will fight for me; I need only to be still."

Dreams I Dream for You

I (Anne) was spending some quiet time alone with the Lord this morning and I felt compelled to listen to some music by Avalon. (If you're a fan of Christian music you'll remember that Avalon was big back in the 90's.) I hadn't listened to this cd in years, but I still knew all the words. The final song on the cd is called "Dreams I Dream for You." Instead of singing along, I chose to just sit and listen to God's words to me... they brought me to tears. I was reminded to let go of all my dreams for this life, to stop focusing on waters gone by, to take the cup He offers and drink deeply of the dreams He dreams for me...accepting that His dreams may look nothing like my own.

Dreams I Dream for You - Avalon

You taste the tears

You're lost in sorrow

You see your yesterdays

I see tomorrow

You see the darkness

I see the spark

You know your failures

But I know your heart

The dreams I dream for you

Are deeper than the ones you're clinging to

More precious than the finest things you knew

And truer than the treasures you pursue

Let the old dreams die

Like stars that fade from view

Then take the cup I offer

And drink deeply of

The dreams I dream for you

You see your shame

But I see your glory

You've read one page

But I know the story

I hold a vision

That you'll become

As you grow into the truth

As you learn to walk in love

Let the old dreams die

Like starts that fade from view

Then take the cup I offer

And drink deeply of

The dreams I dream for you

Safe Families

Recently our church launched a ministry called Safe Families. I (Anne) have been on the leadership team for the past few months, excited and encouraged by the possibilities this new ministry will bring to our church family. There are so many aspects to Safe Families, but the general idea is this:

Families from within a local church volunteer to open their homes to children of other families in crisis. These families in crisis are in the local community, typically single mothers in need of a temporary home to place their children in. The "crisis" can be anything really: homelessness, hospital recovery, unexpected trip out of town, job loss, etc. The purpose of this ministry is to step in and help families before their situation turns into one in which the state needs to get involved. Unlike foster care/Child Protective Services, Safe Families comes alongside both parent and child to bring recovery and healing to the crisis situation. The goal is to place the children back with their families as soon as possible. The host families from church do not get reimbursed in any way, nor do they take on a "parent" role for the child they're hosting. Instead, they work with the parents and keep open communication flowing between parent and child. The parents can talk to and see their children whenever they like- their retrieving of their child is not conditional on anything. The soul purpose of the host family is to simply show up emotionally, physically and spiritually for the family in crisis. (Believe it or not, that is the short version!)

The more I learn about this program, the more passionate I am for the cause. It's about time the church family stepped up and opened their doors and homes to the community around them! After A LOT of prayer, Zach and I both felt the Lord leading us to become a host family ourselves. The single moms in crisis we can help sound very much like the type of women we've been matched with through our adoption process. What if those women had a Safe Family they could turn to? Their lives could be completely changed. We feel strongly that this is what we are meant to do while we wait for a child of our own. (The Safe Families program is very flexible- we can opt out at any time, or relocate the child we are hosting if we have an adoption scenario come up.) The nursery in our home is full of brand new baby items collecting dust. We don't know how long it will be until we can use those things for our own child, but in the meantime we feel called to turn that room of sadness and loss into a ministry for other children. We will worship in the waiting.

I know we've shared this decision with some of you already, and we thank you for your support! We're so blessed to have such wonderful friends and cheerleaders. Many of you have commented how "strong" we have become and how "impressed" you are with this decision we've made. We'd like to be clear that our strength comes only from the Lord. Without His mercies and His healing, we would not be where we are today. Just this morning we watched our friends dedicate their baby girl in front of the church, and I couldn't hold back the sobs. Everything in me longed to have a baby of my own to dedicate to the Lord, to celebrate with our church family. While we do feel very strong and we marvel at how far the Lord has brought us, the scars from our journey are still very real.

"Today I Closed the Nursery Door"

I found this poem in one of our many adoption books we've read. It's like I wrote it myself. We have gone through this exact experience, especially after losing both Caleb & Providence. For those of you who have been blessed with children, please don't ever take them for granted.

"Today I Closed the Nursery Door" by Sheen Nesbitt (written while waiting to adopt)

Today I closed the nursery door,

Afraid of how I feel.

I have become attached to a child,

Who, as of yet, is not real.

Today I put away the toys,

That would belong to him.

The Tonka truck, the teddy bear,

The little chair he'd sit in.

Today I read the final book,

We would have read together.

Nursery rhymes and fairy tales,

And happily ever afters.

Today I finished his life book,

Of the life he could have had.

A warm home, lots of laughter,

And loving mom and dad.

Today I put that life book,

Up on the highest shelf.

I will not linger, I will no longer dream,

I refuse to delude myself.

Today it became clear to me,

That I do not have a son.

And I have absolutely no control,

Of if I'll ever have one.

My life, my future, my family, my child,

Are all in the hands of others.

They will decide what is best for me,

And whether or not I'm a mother.

So I closed the books, closed the door,

And put the toys away.

I am a mommy without a child,

I realized that today.

Saying "No"

Every few months or so Little Angel Adoptions will send out an email to all their waiting families regarding a baby & birth mom who need to be matched. This usually means that the circumstance is such a unique one that they don't have any specific families in mind, so they ask all of us to see who's interested. Every time we've read these emails we haven't responded with interest because it's simply not a situation we're prepared for (typically a special needs/disabled child). A couple weeks ago we got one of these emails regarding a baby boy in Utah who was born 15 weeks early- he'd been on oxygen in the NICU for 2 months already and he had at least another 2 months to go. The birth mom had been by his side every day, but she simply couldn't continue. There was a possibility the child would need to be on oxygen for the first few years of his life. So naturally, we passed. But a day later our agency called us and said the baby's condition wasn't as serious as they thought- he would need to remain in the NICU for another 2 months, but once released he should have a completely normal life. However, this still meant they needed adoptive parents to be with him in Utah for the remainder of his hospital stay. This was simply not something Zach & I could do.

We knew it was the right thing to say "no," and we have no regrets about it, but it was still difficult. Sometimes we feel so desperate that we think we'll take anything at this point, but when put to the test we find that's not exactly true. We can't be reckless. We have to wait for the right one, even if that means walking away from a child who needs a home. I had a mini-meltdown. (I call it "mini" because compared to some of the other meltdowns I've had through this adoption process, this one was basically nothing.)It had been nearly 2 months since our last letdown, and I felt we were finally experiencing a calm in the storm (as described in our previous post). After being hit repeatedly with heavy blows for practically 6 months straight, we were finally starting to put our emotions aside and simply live our lives normally. It usually works this way though- just when we think we're recovering and can be at peace for a while, the phone rings and it reminds us that we're still on this ride. It is, quite simply, exhausting.