You are Going to Do What?!

We have a pretty open adoption with our oldest daughter’s birthmother – E.

She got married this past weekend and we have been thinking about her quite a bit these days. Especially how her life has changed in the past 3 years. She is now married and is expecting a baby in the fall.

While I never went into this process asking for, or really expecting such an open arrangement, I have come to terms (on most days) with my extended family. As time passes, I expect our relationship will only deepen and I hope as she grows her family – first husband and soon another child that she will parent – we will become even closer. Relating to each other as only two mothers can do.

Today on my way to work I was thinking about our first visit with E. In October 2005, we went to meet our prospective birthmother in person (as I would think any adoptive parent would want to right?) and yet, at every turn I asked by family and friends alike, “you are going to do what?!”

10/2005
We sat at the hostess’s station, waiting to meet E. The place was dark, with Christmas lights in the rafters. There were lots of funky pictures and paintings on the walls. We were so nervous.

She had said to watch for ‘a pregnant woman wearing a red shirt with very short hair.’ And then in an instant, in she came. I hugged her and said hello. Jokingly commenting on the short, shaved hair. She smiled.

We sat down and the conversation started. It flowed really well much to our suprise. She had pale skin, several small earrings, and a shiny tongue ring that rattled when she laughed. She had a nice smile. Every once in a while, I caught her rubbing her belly. She was tiny, except for that belly.

When the waitress came, she ordered chicken tenders and fries and a Sprite. I wanted her to order something more ‘sensible’ something that would prove to me that she watched what she ate, that she was taking care of our possible child-to-be. No such luck. She proceeded to dip and roll each and every fry into sugar. So much for wanting. Eating habit, like everything else on this ride wasn’t up to me. She invited us to try her pregnancy craving creation and we did. She also liked peppermint ice cream.

To that point, we had semi-open match. Meaning that no last names had been exchanged. Well, she didn’t know our last name. Then my dorky husband takes out his little blue photo / scapbook albumn that his mother had lovingly put together for our wedding. The book had pictures of trips to the shore, first day of school, and various 80’s mullet haircuts. The cover had 3-inch high gold letters – including our last name. Welcome openess!

After eating dessert, E asked us if we wanted to stop by her apartment to meet her dog for a few moments. We said yes, taking our time to pay the bill and slowly drive there. We knew she had to talk to her dad first to process everything with him. She lived in an apartment complex and had a tennis court in her back yard. The apartment was small, a mess of blankets where a couch would be. The t.v. and computer monitor sat side by side. Her kitchen was a mix of bottles, beer and soda. I prayed there was food in the fridge (here I go again – but one could hope right?) A small hallway of three closed doors. She shared some paintings, her own work, with us.

We took some pictures together, and with the dog. We all agreed that what had transpired in the last 3 hours actually felt more normal than not. It felt good to be so honest with each other.
We left, with a hug and a promise to talk this weekend. Maybe even a visit soon. She invited us to come anytime.

And then we were off, driving back to our other lives.

THE CALL

See all those people driving along and chatting on their cell phones?  Wonder if any of them are in the middle of THE CALL.

I was thinking today about the role of THE CALL in the adoption process.

THE CALL can come from a social worker telling you that your paperwork has finally been approved and you are now free to come home after weeks away in another state where you have been eating a steady diet of peanut M&Ms.

Or maybe it is your facilitator or lawyer who makes THE CALL.  This conversation is the one that has real potential to change your life forever.   In heart pounding silence and open mouthed awe, you are informed that a potential birthmother has ‘expressed interest’ in you.

The real test for most adoptive parents is when THE CALL from a potential birthmother.  THE CALL from a potential birthmother brings you crashing  back to your high school all of your insecurities.  Your dating days memories come flooding to the surface.  The “special” time when you start to question who you are at the moment and who you will become in the future.  No pressure, but this is the call when it is most important for your true self to shine through.  No pressure.  Ha ha!

I found it was helpful to talk to as many people as possible in preparation for this moment - THE CALL from a potential birthmother, whenever it happened.  Just to hear advice from other waiting parents calmed my frayed nerves, and gave me hope that I would soon be in the very awkward situation of basically dating the mother of what I hoped would be my future child.  Somehow you make it though and honestly the key is to be yourself.

When we got THE CALL I was at a meeting.  Around 9pm my cell phone beeped indicating that I had received a message.  I heard my husband asking me when I was coming home.  My first thought was that something had happened to our dog (who had been sick that week).  When I called my husband he was acting weird.  My next thought was that someone had dropped by the house and I tried to think who it would be.  Maybe it was a surprise for me.  I asked him if I should come home now, before the meeting was over and he agreed.  I asked him if we had received a phone call and he said yes.  Then I got it.  I grabbed my purse, my half eaten sandwich and my water bottled, said my goodbyes and left. 

The car ride home was the strangest 43 minutes of my life.  I started laughing aloud and thought this was so exciting.  Then I compared this moment to how I felt after getting the call from Dr. W saying we were pregnant.  It wasn’t the same, to be honest, but it was a good feeling and I want to run with it.  I had a vision of my husband saying that we had to fly somewhere tonight and tried to guess where that would be.   

Suddenly a strange sense of calm kicked in.  Maybe my defense mode was up and I was trying not to attach too much importance to this call.  It was only a call after all. I tried to think about other things and then just before turning on the radio to hear the President speak I realized that somewhere out in the world was a possible son or daughter of mine (a bit ahead of myself, but I was hoping for the best possible outcome!)

When I got home my husband had me look at the computer where he had typed some notes from his conversation with the facilitator.

“9/15/2005 tonight at 8 pm I was sitting on the sofa watching “Extra” TV, and eating a peanut butter sandwich on Texas Toast. The dog had just found his missing Clifford Toothbrush – it was behind the sofa.  I suspect the nieces. At eight, I received a phone call that I answered with my mouth half full of peanut butter. The call was from C. She told me a birth mother had called her this morning, and wanted to speak with us…”

My 95 year old grandmother had recently written me a letter with the advice to relax.  Anyone else would have gotten an earful.  As anyone who has ever been through infertility treatments know, the ‘just relax’ sentiment is about all you can stomach before socking the other person in the jaw or running over their cat.   Seeing as the letter came from Grandma, I let it go.

But she was right.  I needed to listen mostly;  to find out all I could without probing.  I like to think that I spoke and listened with compassion that night.  Almost as if a co-worker or a friend was coming to me with this situation (I have a baby I cannot care for).

So I took a deep breath and my husband took a picture.  I called E. 

And OUR CALL lasted for 1 1/2 hours.