Posts tagged ‘birth mom’
A Birth Mom is A Hero | Mae’s Adoption Journey
A Reflection
Few people have to make a harder choice than a birth mom.
Unplanned pregnancy. Decisions to keep the child. Only to in the end, give it away.
That’s probably the most Christ-like scenario we have on this side of heaven.
Many who adopt fear the birth mom.
TV doesn’t help. Crazy stories invoke fear that your baby won’t be yours anymore.
Even beyond that, having a birth mom in your life is a reminder that the baby isn’t “yours” in the first place.
But ultimately, isn’t that the same for everybody though? No child is truly “ours” if God is the originator of life.
I’m thankful for our birth mom who is in the truest form, a hero.
She made a selfless sacrifice so that her beautiful girl would have a good life.
I can only hope that if I was in a similar situation, I’d have the strength to make the same choice.
The choice that mirrors the love of my Savior.
January 15 – Activation Celebration | Mae’s Adoption Journey
By around 8am the next morning, I had an email in my inbox. My heart started racing as I anticipated questions that were to come. I thought about our previous meeting with the birth mom all night. She must have too. I got my “game face” on and opened up the email. To my surprise, a short note started out with
“I believe you and Mike will make great parents … and I feel blessed to have met you both.”
Wowza, and that was it. A night ridden with questions of how long this process would take, and wondering if the birth mom connected with us were answered within just a few hours. She had peace about us raising her little girl. She wanted us to be her parents. And after just seven days after we’d heard of the possibility to adopt a baby girl, she was going to be ours.
I called Mike into our bedroom and showed him the email. We hugged, mouths open wide at the shock of how fast everything had gone. And then finally the smiles we’d both been holding back came out. We were beaming.
Sharing the News
My friend Amber who was staying at her house with her hubby has always had a knack for coming into town at just the right time. She’d been with us to weddings, showers, birthdays, family funerals – all usually unplanned. So it was fitting that she was with us when we received an email from a birth mom asking us to adopt her daughter. We shared the news with her and then hid out in our room for a bit to type up a long novel to many close friends and family members.
Some of them had known about the events of the week, but some of them had no clue about what was going on. So to explain our upcoming life change that would be happening in a matter of three weeks … not nine months … we started out with an email. Replies flooded in with “Congratulations!” and “OMG!s.” This was the real thing.
Celebrating with an Activation Celebration
The Lord works in mysterious ways, and one that continually blows my mind is timing. Weeks earlier some of my closest buds Amy & Ashley had asked if they could throw a shower for me. I initially said “no way,” following all the adoption manual’s cues when it came to this sort of thing. Any sort of shower was highly discouraged until the baby was home with us – there were so many things that could fall through. They advised we wait.
However, the girls insisted and still asked to do a little something. It didn’t have to be a “shower.” They came up with the idea of an “Activation Celebration.” They knew our activation papers were coming soon and that when we did get the call, gift cards would be handy. The original thought was that if we were chosen by a birth mom in a different state and needed to travel, at least we’d have a way to buy the baby some needed items. So I agreed to them throwing an “activation celebration” where we’d have just gift cards as gifts … and no baby games.
I felt so honored and started looking forward to the celebration. The girls had been planning it for several weeks before the date. Little did we know that the very date they chose for the celebration would fall on the same day I would receive word from a birth mom that sealed the deal motherhood was knocking at my front door – and soon. Like in a week or so.
Let’s Party And Keep A Lid on It
Although the shower had some of my closest small group friends there, only a handful of them still knew about the baby, much less the email I’d received earlier that morning. My moms were there too, but they also kept quiet. All of the news throughout the week had been so tentative, we’d proceeded with caution each step of the way. So, we followed suit on this evening. Just to be safe. We celebrated a “Baby Burgess” and had an amazing time with Thai food, wine, cake and nursery room mobile making. And as each time somebody mentioned Baby B, some of us kind of smiled. Because we actually had an idea of what she looked like… and knew that in all actuality, she was already here.
January 13 – Agency Calls | Mae’s Adoption Journey
Once again, my head was spinning. This wasn’t a new occurrence though. In less than a week there had been several days where the room was spinning. It started with a text and then a meeting. Then it really started spinning after a decision. But after I hung up with our adoption agency the morning after meeting Uncle Nick, I knew this was all for real.
You Ready to Proceed With Adoption?
The previous night, we left meeting Uncle Nick with unsettled feelings. Excited, yet uncertain. The situation called for several more meetings and several more phone calls. Part of me dropped some hope once I realized the “this person needs to call that person” web that was to come. I figured something was bound to fall through. Yet the next day when I recognized the phone number of the adoption agency calling my phone, I new we’d made some progress.
Yet once again, blood surged through my veins. Nick had talked to his sister and she knew that adoption would be the best thing for her precious girl. It didn’t take much convincing, she was already there. She wanted what was best for her, as did Nick. He let her know about us. And she trusted him. So much so that by the next morning, she had already called our adoption agency and set up a meeting with them. They were calling us before noon to fill us in on the morning’s activities.
“Hi Danielle, we’ve already talked with the birth mom and she’s ready to move forward if you are. Are you wanting to move forward in this process and adopt this baby?
I shouldn’t have been surprised at the question. It was one that I’d been asking myself all week. Yet something about having our adoption agency ask it put it in the major leagues. This was the real deal now.
“Yes, we will move forward.”
And with that, we were on our way. I quickly called Mike. He was in the middle of eating lunch with co-workers between classes. I had always tried to avoid calling him during school hours, not wanting to interrupt his teaching. But luckily I caught him at a good time. Making she he knew we had agreed to adopt a kid was sort of big news. Mike’s response was the same as mine. Surprised everything had moved quickly. Still in agreement to move forward. Happy. And probably more than anything, dumbfounded.
Time to Spread the Word A Bit
Granted, I was in shock that this was all real and happening. But I’d had five or six days to know it was coming. It hit me that Mike and I would be becoming parents very quickly, we had a daughter out there … and yet none of our parents knew any of this. So, although I hadn’t quite processed everything yet – I picked up the phone and called my mom. We needed to start telling our parents.
Telling Mom
My mom has always been able to take my phone calls at her job. Working in a school gives her the flexibility to put her kids first, even if we are, ahem, nearing 30. So, I called her school and asked the receptionist to find her. I needed to talk to her. In a grand opening statement where I stumbled over my words and such, I basically got out the gist of it: something’s been going on, everything is moving fast, there’s this baby, we’ve been put in line to adopt her, and as of this morning it’s real and looks like it’s happening. Mom’s response gave me a little comfort knowing that my reactions all week didn’t come from nowhere. She was excited, yet quiet, and mostly in shock. I could tell the room was spinning for her, too.
Telling Dad
Next up, I needed to tell my dad. Since his office is less than a mile from my house and his birthday had been the previous day, I thought it would be fun to somehow surprise him with a late birthday gift. I waited for Mike to get home from work and we slipped by his office. I’m sure when we walked in he thought we needed to talk about our cars or life insurance or something. But rather, we sat down across from him at his desk and proceeded to give him a gift wrapped frame. And then we began to explain to him that he could put his granddaughter’s photo in there. His eyebrows shot up. We started sharing the story again. Since I’d already had a first run with Mom, this one wasn’t as rough. Plus, Mike chimed in to help. Yet it was still stop-and-go and shocking. My dad is usually pretty calm and collected about everything … well except my colon cancer. So in his usual fashion he sat there, legs crossed (and shaking), hands clasped rested in his lap, head nodding as he took in our story. At first I thought he wasn’t surprised. But then I realized he was just processing. And at the end of our story, he got a big smile on his face. “I’m gonna be a grandpa!”
Telling Mike’s Mom & Dad
Last up, we wanted to tell Mike’s mom & dad together. Since we also lived just down the road from them, we decided to stop by once we knew Mike’s dad would be home from work. We knew this would probably already tip them off that something was going on. Years before we’d had a similar “drop by” experience when we told them we were planning to move to LA. We’d set this scenario up the same way, so they were excited to see us yet anxious to hear the “news” we had for them. I could tell they were hoping it was good. We didn’t mess around – we got right down to it. We began to share the story again about how a few days earlier, we’d received a text and had a few meetings and well – as of this morning – we’d agreed to adopt a baby girl. Reactions were the same. Excitement. Surprise. Little bit of shock. The super fun part was sharing that this little gal was just shy of two weeks younger than my niece. “They can grow up together!” I jumped at the thought. The reality had hit me once again in a whole new way. Holy cow, this was real.
Letting the News Soak In
After a long emotional day, we headed home to recover. We wanted to share our news with so many others, yet were exhausted and drained. We were glad all of our parents knew. We’d told just a handful of friends. We just needed to rest.
Before my eyes took their last blink, I reflected back on the day’s events. All of our parents responded differently (in a good way), yet they were all very similar. Cautiously excited. Surprised and shocked at the timing. Unsure exactly of how to react. Yet happy. And if we were being honest, Mike & I felt the same way.
It hit me once again that the journey of adoption is unique and different. There’s not one way it will ever be done. And most of the process is uncertain and requires great faith. There’s a typical pattern of responses when it comes to pregnancy or birth announcements. Even if they’re a total shock, most of us get what came before (that’s assumed) and what will come after. But with adoption, and especially our journey, there were no assumptions. We had no idea what had come before (only bits and pieces we’d managed to piece together) – and we especially had no idea what would come after. Nothing about adoption was familiar to us. And even if it would have been, each story has its own twists and turns and details to work out. And while I wasn’t saddened nor scared about the unfamiliarity of this process, I was just praying that I felt everything I needed to feel, and that this was right.
All we knew was that our lives were about to change. We handed the legal stuff and the details over to our agency. We asked our closest friends and family to be praying. And with that, we called it a night.