Part 29

After we were matched on February 4th, the process seemed pretty simple:  Sign some paperwork, pay some money and wait – wait for your baby to be born.

On the surface, that seems like a pretty simple responsibility.  All you have to do is be patient and wait.

Honestly, it’s the most terrifying part of the process.

Once you’ve been chosen, the paperwork signed and the money paid you expect to there to be this dramatic, fulfilling and deep experience like you see in the movies or hear about on the news.  Those experiences where the adoptive parents have this amazing, life-changing relationship with their birthmother where they go to the doctor together, become friends, talk about a birth plan and share the experience.  I expected it all to be very Juno-esque.  Where this young girl would embrace our family and the experience and become a part of our lives.

I should have known better.

I think experiences like those are the anomaly.   The reality of the situation is that from the moment that a birthmother picks you the ball is in her court entirely.  She decides if she wants a relationship or not.  She decides if she wants an open or closed adoption or not.  She decides where and when and who and what and how.  She is entirely in the driver seat until that baby is born, the paperwork is signed and the adoption is final.

So from the moment that you are picked and you hear the magical words “you’re going to be parents” – from that moment you live your life on pins and needles.  You live your life praying that you don’t say or do something wrong.  You live your life at the mercy of someone else.  You live your life in this weird, awkward space that is torn between excited and deathly afraid.  You want fall in love with the idea of being a parent and begin to prepare your life to be a family – at the same time that you are afraid to say or do anything because you’re going to afraid to jinx it.  It’s terrifying.

As it turns out, Amelia didn’t know what she wanted.  She wasn’t sure how “open” of an adoption she wanted.  She wasn’t certain she wanted to meet us.  She wasn’t sure if she wanted us there when the baby was born.  She wasn’t sure she even wanted to talk to us on the phone.  So we waited – with the ball in her court to decide – all the while we kept communicating to Adoption Connections (AC) that we would be comfortable and supportive of whatever she decided.

Let me just say, however, that it took me a LONG time to get to that point of “comfortable with whatever the birthmother decides”.  It took me a long time to be comfortable with the idea of having a relationship with our birthmother – post-birth.  I spent a ton of time reading about the benefits of relationships with birthmothers. I spent a ton of time talking with my friend Becky (who’s adopted three children) about her children’s birthmothers, the relationships they have, and what she wished for them.  She taught me about setting boundaries.  She helped me see how important it was for a child to grow up knowing who their birthmother was, having a relationship of some sort with her, and knowing his or her adoption story.  I finally got to a point where we wanted to have a relationship with Amelia.  We wanted to Amelia to be a part of our daughter’s life.  We wanted to meet her.

I was confident that if we could get Amelia to meet us, she’d fall in love with us.  She’d fall in love with the idea of us being her baby’s parents.  Ben has this magical ability to make others feel at ease; he’s great with people.  I work with women Amelia’s age for a living.  I know them.  I know their language and what makes them tick.  But I also feel like I know Amelia.  We were both raised Catholic and went to Catholic school.  We both were raised by single mom’s.  We have so much in common – and I have so much empathy and understanding of her, her life’s experiences, and what she must be felling – not because I have felt those things or had those experiences, but because I can imagine it.  I spent a lot of time reflecting, journaling, and praying about it.  I’d lay in bed and night and think through all of the possibilities – all my fears, all of the “what ifs”,  all of the rewards, everything.

What if my daughter likes her birthmother better than me?  What if she wants to be with her birthmother and not us as she gets older?  Do we invite her to birthdays?  Do we invite her to Christmas?  Will our daughter’s relationship with her birthmother interfere with our relationship with our daughter?  What if we can’t parent the way we want because of their relationship?  What if the birthmother changes her mind later on?

And in all those “what ifs”, I didn’t once consider what was best for my future child.  Those thoughts were 100% about me, not her.  It took us a long time to get to the point of understanding, respecting, and desiring a relationship with our birthmother – but after we had come to terms with it…

…I found myself desperately wanting to meet her.

As it turns out, Amelia wanted to meet us, too.  Our agency worked closely with Amelia and set up a time for us to finally meet her – face-to-face.   Our original meeting was cancelled on March 1st because of an unexpected and pretty significant snow storm in Indianapolis.  Our agency reps didn’t feel safe making the over 4 hour drive to southern Indiana to be with us for the meeting – and frankly we knew that they roads were too bad for us, too.  We rescheduled the meeting for later in March and when the 22nd finally arrived we couldn’t believe it.

Every day was closer and closer to us becoming a family.  Now we were finally at the day – the day we would meet the mother of our future child.  The day we would meet the woman who was going to help us finally become a family.

Like clockwork, Ben and I couldn’t sleep the night before.  We left earlier than we needed to make the 3.5 hour drive and arrived entirely too early – like 45 minutes too early – at the restaurant.  We pulled into the parking lot of some random steakhouse just waiting in the car – for a solid 30 minutes – before we headed inside.  Ben and I didn’t really talk.  We didn’t really prepare.  We didn’t do anything but sit and wait.  At this point, we’ve gotten pretty good at waiting – we’ve been doing a lot of it lately.

When we finally walked into the restaurant, we met the hostess at the podium and asked about our reservation – we weren’t sure who it was under, our agency made the reservation and we’ve never met the women from the agency either.  We honestly had no idea who we were looking for – except for a little recon that I did by looking at their pictures on the agency website.  I just remember walking into the restaurant secretly hoping that Amelia hadn’t arrived yet.

Ben and I sat down in the lobby waiting for Sue, our Social Worker from the agency, and Julie, the Birth Mother Liaison (a birthmother herself, who was mostly there to support Amelia).  About five minutes later Sue and Julie walked in.  We exchanged greetings, talked about the weather, and then Sue asked the hostess to go ahead and seat us – that Amelia was running late.  We walked into the restaurant, sat down at a big round table set for six people.  I intentionally sat so that I could watch the door – so I could see Amelia as she walked in.

We all sat down and Sue began to explain to us how the meeting would go, what to expect, and about some of their interactions with Amelia.  What she knew about her, what she was like, etc.  I tried really really hard to pay attention and be present in that conversation – I just couldn’t.

All I could do is watch the door – waiting to see the young woman carrying our child. 

I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life – sitting there -watching the door waiting for someone – some stranger – that I don’t know to walk through it.  How would I know it was her?  Would she know it was me?  I don’t know what she looks like or much about her for that matter.  She’s a stanger to us – but I already feel connected to her.

Before I knew it, a beautiful petite blonde girl walked up to the table.  Before I even noticed her little baby bump – I saw her beautiful radiant smile.  I knew it was her.  Without even thinking, I stood up, walked around the table and said, “Hi Amelia, I’m Jessica.  It’s so great to finally meet you.”

And just like that, she wrapped her arms around me and I wrapped my arms around her.  We hugged each other tightly because we weren’t strangers at all – there was so much at that moment that bonded us.  We hugged so tightly, I could feel the only thing between her and I – it was that beautiful little baby bump – with my daughter inside.