lessons learned

It's been a year and some months since my last post. This blog was created so that people could watch as what I thought would be a beautiful adoption story would unfold. Being that November is National Adoption Month, it has seemed natural to finally post something again. I stopped blogging after the second adoption fell through for a number of reasons. First, I felt like I needed so much time to process what all had happened in the months before. I couldn't understand it myself and just sort of fell apart. I exercised excessively to calm my nerves and tried to not appear ungrateful for the wonderful two children I am so blessed to have.

I started having severe anxiety attacks and became a tiny bit of a recluse, pulling back from many things. We had so many people caring for us, loving us, supporting us through the adoption process, but felt a little like others were watching it as if it were a train wreck or figure skating: you are watching because you are waiting to see how bad the wreck is, or how bad the elegant princess on the ice falls. We sometimes just can't look away from tragedy. I am choosing not to go into detail regarding our experience because some of that is just private. However, as we process through the last year and a half, we have learned more than I think I wanted to know. We have grown so much and God has blessed so much of what we have done. I haven't been this vulnerable publicly, but will share just enough. When we went to Georgia, it was a whirlwind. The baby was life-lighted to another hospital hours away from where we originally were planning to stay. We flew into Atlanta, drove to Macon (a few hours south) and then then next morning, drove all the way to Augusta, GA. We spoke to our birth mom multiple times and she was so excited to meet us, and see where this beautiful baby girl was going. Upon arriving at the hospital, there were many red flags regarding this hospital's opinion, or perhaps the social worker in the hospital's opinion regarding adoption. We weren't able to hold the baby girl, as she was in the NICU, however, we could hold her hand, touch her hair, etc. We intentionally chose not to take photos or post anything on social media because of what happened in Memphis. A social worker from Atlanta drove in to complete the paperwork. Before Jessica, (the Atlanta social worker) arrived, the hospital social worker met with the birth mother. James and I sat in the waiting room, staring at our birth mother's little sister, trying not to be obvious that we knew who she was. While the birth mother was meeting with the hospital social worker on the other side of the door, we received a text from our agency stating that we were being asked to leave the waiting room and that the releases of information had all been pulled. The birth mother decided after discussion with the hospital social worker, that her baby didn't need a family like us. We were stunned and it felt like the beginning of the end, again. When Jessica arrived, she wasn't greeted appropriately or even professionally. She was told that this young single mother of 4 didn't need to adopt out and that everything would be just fine. The social worker from the hospital would not allow Jessica to do the paperwork on site and asked everyone to leave. After the documents were signed, the hospital social worker was to put the birth mother up in a Ronald McDonald home for the night, but apparently must have forgotten, or just left because it was after 5 p.m. and she was gone. We were asked to cover a hotel for a night, which of course we said we would do for her. We were told to call in the morning because the birth mother needed to go back in to say goodbye to baby and sign a release of information. The next morning I called around 10 a.m. to see if our release had been signed yet so we could plan the day. Apparently, I called when the birth mother was there and the hospital social worker was caught off-guard. We were told not to come and to wait. We waited until after noon and decided to grab a bite to eat. I received a call from our agency in Tennessee that the birth mother revoked the papers and officially decided she would parent the child. We had a chance to text, because the birth mother didn't want to meet, and texted back and forth for a while. It seemed futile to try because she became fixated on the idea that we were trying to buy her off when we were asked to cover the hotel. So, we couldn't get a flight home right away, again, so we stayed and just kind of sat around stunned. We decided to drive to Tybee Island for a day and it was beautiful. It was hot and we just enjoyed the scenery. We took a couple photos, but mostly I wanted to just disappear.

When we came home, we were greeted by family and friends and we were just sort of quiet and stunned. I think I felt that because God allowed me to show so much grace to our first birth-mom, that He wouldn't let that happen again. I became angry, numb, distant and frustrated. Well-meaning people around us would say things like, "Be grateful that you have two healthy children," as if the loss of two others didn't hurt or shouldn't hurt. When a women is pregnant and loses the baby, it isn't like she had a relationship with that child in her stomach and is sad about that. It's the anticipation of what your family will look like. It's the imagining playing in the back yard with your kids together; the ideas of holidays with another child that a lot of times we mourn. I disagree with the idea that one ought not to mourn the loss of a biological or adopted child. That just seems foolish. I don't trust people who tell me what I feel isn't justified. It's how I feel. I have been worried about sharing anything from the adoption for fear that others who wanted to try and adopt would be scared away. I thought that my story would turn people off to the idea and that somehow I would be responsible. The reality is this: God is sovereign on a good day and on a bad day. I don't think He was up in heaven laughing at me and nudging Peter in the ribs saying, "isn't that funny?! Look at how pathetic it is." I believe it happened because it happened. I did feel punished right away and have worked through a lot of garbage in my heart and mind to get to a place where I know that if we try again, that we learned a lot of lessons. It wasn't futile. But adoption is hard. Anyone HAS to anticipate that. There is a lot of people awkwardly asking what we are going to do, and how that's going. It's hard for people to even use the word adoption, it's just easier to call it that. To be honest, I don't really know what we are doing. I know that we made a decision to at least wait until 2013 to make a decision. Does that mean we are renewing our home study and push through again...I don't know. I know this: All month long, my heart has hurt because of the month that it is. I love my children, but I won't pretend like we didn't lose two other babies, whose names were picked, cribs were prepped and proper nesting was complete. We lost them, and it doesn't mean I can't be grateful for what I have. Whether we adopt, do foster care or find another avenue for the burden on my heart, I figure it will happen in the right time. m