It was a little strange leaving the hospital. C showed no emotion, she bottles things up inside. Her grandmother was crying as she said good-bye. She was sad, but she also told me, “This baby is going to have a chance.” I gave her a hug and reminded her that she wasn’t losing him, but gaining all of us. J was discharged an hour or so later. I was wheeled out of the hospital holding him. I protested to the nurse that I was perfectly capable of walking. Her response was that new mothers do NOT walk out of her hospital. She was so kind to us that day. Everyone at the hospital was, they treated us like the baby’s parents but they were also sure to respect C’s feelings.
J was 23 hours old when we brought him home from the hospital. It was pretty wild bringing him home. “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” was playing on the radio; it felt prophetic. While there was certainly adjustment I felt like J’s mom from the start and it was wonderful.
There are definitely perks to being an adoptive parent. I was able to enjoy my new baby without having to recover from childbirth. While it is possible to induce lactation, I didn’t want another opportunity for my body to fail me. Consequently, my husband was able to do his share of midnight feedings from the get-go. I actually lost 5 pounds from so much walking/bouncing. Everyone said to me, “You look so good”, I just smiled and said, “Thank you.”
We talked to C for the first time since the hospital when J was four days old. She asked us to call with an update from his first doctor appointment. It was a light conversation; just giving her the basic news that he’d already regained his birth weight.
Our social worker called to check in later that day. She had C scheduled to sign her relinquishments on a few days later. The delay was solely due to paperwork—C couldn’t sign the relinquishments until the results from her HIV test were in the office. Well, they didn’t arrive in time so the relinquishments were rescheduled for a week later. The extra week wait wasn’t too bad, I figured if C was ready to sign but couldn’t due to logistics, she would still sign the following week. One of the scariest parts of adoption is the possibility of a reclaim. The adoptive parents generally bring the baby home from the hospital but the birthmother can’t relinquish her parent rights while in the hospital. There’s a period of time where you have this baby yet the birthmother can change her mind and you just have to give the baby back. It happens and it is tragic.
C signed her paperwork as scheduled and our lawyer took the birthfather to court to terminate his parental rights. He didn’t bother to show up and the judge signed the papers. We finalized our adoption six months later. It felt anti-climatic. We may have now legally become J’s parents with a birth certificate to prove it, but we’d been his parents forever.
We’ve maintained contact with J’s birth family. I send pictures and letters regularly and we’ve enjoyed a handful of visits. We had four visits the first year; the first was trick-or-treating at the mall when J was a few weeks old. His oldest birth-sibling made sure that J got a treat at every stop. We happily ate the candy in the car coming home. That was an interesting visit. C clearly saw us as the baby’s parents—the minute he started fussing she handed him back. It was less so for her oldest daughter. T told me under no uncertain terms that she had taken care of the other when “Mama was lost” and saw no reason for her to not take care of this baby also. With time T came to accept the adoption and respect us as parents.
When our son was 3 his birth-great-grandfather passed. We took J to the funeral. When we walked in Grandma (C’s grandma, his widow) gave me a big hug and thanked us for bringing him. Later we met C’s father for the first time. He thanked us for being such good parents to the baby and said that we were all in his prayers. I can’t explain how good it felt to know that J’s birth family cared about all of us.
J and his birth siblings were inseparable at the reception after the funeral. It was wonderful watching them play together; they really do have a special bond. I felt a little bad that J isn’t having the opportunity to grow up with them, but I know that C made the right decision when she asked us to parent him. Besides, if they saw each other every day there would be all kinds of sibling rivalry.
Grandpa A’s funeral affirmed the importance of open adoption. I felt validated as J’s mother. I can help J know that his adoption placement was an act of love and not rejection; that his birth family still remembers and loves him. I cherish his intense bond with his birth siblings. We’re still his parents, though. There is no doubt in his mind or anyone else’s.
When we started trying to form our family I would never have imagined the twists and turns our path took. But if we hadn’t adopted that baby, someone else would have been his mother. While I would never be thankful for infertility, I am truly thankful to be J’s mother.
