Pope Family Adoption Story

Two weeks ago, today. 

I woke up in a hotel room five hours from our home. I say "I woke up" but I honestly don't think I slept more than ten minutes the whole night. 

We left home the day before because our birth mom was being induced! We spent five hours in the car talking non-stop about how we were finally going to meet our son. He was six days past his due date, so we had stopped guessing when he was going to be born. It just got our hopes up and my nerves in a bundle (I'm the worrier). 

She had been induced at 7:30am Monday, and it was now 6am Tuesday. We hadn't gotten an update from the birth mom or a social worker in over 7 hours! As you can imagine, I had spent the entire night wondering what was wrong. 

Did they have complications? 

Is something wrong with mom? 

OR BABY!? 

Or had she given birth and had just changed her mind and decided to parent!? 

Without sounding dramatic it was THE WORST night of my life. About the time I was ready to drive to the hospital and track some people down, I got an email from birth mom! She was fine and baby was fine! He was just still in there! We all giggled a little. What in the world!? An hour later they finally were able to break her water. Then a couple of hours after that, he finally made it! All ten fingers, ten toes, a dimpled chin and a perfect little head. 

In North Carolina, birth mothers have to wait 12 hours after birth before they can sign their relinquishments. This is just to make sure any medications are out of their systems, and it is a sound decision on their part.

 We knew we wouldn't get to meet him until after those 12 hours. Which was perfectly fine! We had developed a relationship with the birth mom over the previous weeks through an email the agency set up.  We already had so much love and respect for her and were happy to give her and her family some space. 

Much to our surprise her social worker called and said "can you guys be here at 2? She wants you to meet her family and wanted you to be able to meet him!" Umm... YES! 

She was incredibly and exceedingly gracious to us! She didn't just take up her 12 hours with him by herself. Which she would have been more than justified in doing. She brought us in to meet her three children, and we got to see and hold Sawyer and love on his birth mother. 

Then later that night, when the 12 hours were coming to a close, and she was going to sign her relinquishments, she invited us back to spend time with her and her mom, sister and actually the birth father (which was a total surprise). 

It was incredibly emotional and heavy but such a privilege. 

Two weeks ago today was the best day of our lives but the worst day of hers. 

She's not a 17 year old girl who had a child while she herself is still a child. 

She isn't a drug addict that the courts are demanding her rights to be relinquished. 

She's a beautiful woman who made the hardest decision of her entire life! 

She wanted more for him. She wanted him to have a Godly father. She wanted her family to thrive instead of struggle. She wanted to help someone (like us) who can't have children, to be parents. 

The emotions in that room were so heavy and the silence at times was deafening. I know that every single one of us was watching the clock. Waiting for 9:30. 

I could see her starting to crumble and she eventually got out of the bed and left for a moment. 

Listening to your birth mom sob uncontrollably in the bathroom while her daughter was sitting next to me holding her baby brother was the hardest and most beautiful thing I've ever gotten to experience. 

When she came back out, she crawled back into her bed and said "okay". We couldn't legally be there for when she signed over her rights, so we both sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her and told her that we loved her and that we would be in touch. Whenever, if ever, she was ready to talk. 

We waited in the hospital parking lot for about 30 minutes. We saw his birth mom being discharged, and she left. And we were checked in! All the bracelets were switched and we were given a room and that was it! Hey, he's yours. We just sat on the bed and stared at him. Looked at every finger and dimple. 

Two weeks ago today we broke the stereotypes for adoptions. People often think of adoptions as being closed. No contact with the birth family at all! When in reality and recent decades it has become such a beautiful union of families. I'm not saying all birth mothers want or need contact with the adopted child. I know that there are many situations that it wouldn't be healthy for anyone! But for us, it works. She made the hardest decision I can imagine and she chose him above herself. That's a woman I want to know and love.

Two weeks ago today we were given this perfect and beautiful gift.

The Journey through Mother's Days

 Sunday will be the third Mother's Day in a row that I've celebrated being a Mom to a new child!

2014 was my very first Mother's Day thanks to Abby Bette's adoption. 

2015 I celebrated Mother's Day with Abby Bette and my new son, Joshua, also through adoption.

2016 will be celebrated with AB, Joshua, and now Ella, my first child to give birth to. 

 

(Ella is in there, so this counts as a pic of me with all three, right?)

 

It's been a crazy three years. It's been full of cheerios and tutus and stroller walks and board books and so many diapers and bottles and maintaining afros and giggles and fits and a million other little things that add up to a Happy-Busy-Crazy Mama. 

My life looks totally different this Mother's Day than it did just five years ago. 

Mother's Day morning of 2012 had me crying on our cold bathroom floor, clutching yet another negative pregnancy test. I was undergoing my first round of infertility treatments, and I thought it would be really poetic to find out I was finally pregnant on Mother's Day. 

We went on to church that morning, only to sit miserably through a Baby Dedication. 

Later that day, I got three texts from three different friends announcing their pregnancies. 

Mother's Day 2013 was equally as bad, but in a completely different way. A few days earlier, we learned of a baby girl whose mother left her at the hospital after giving birth to her. She needed a home, and we had an approved home study.  

I just knew that this baby was meant to be ours. 

Before I was able to go to the hospital to get her, I learned that DHR had taken over the case and had the baby. Over the next week, I desperately tried everything to get that baby out of foster care and into our home. 

I called every phone number listed on their website and kept meticulous notes of every conversation I had with each social worker. Every person I talked to said they could "neither confirm nor deny that this particular child was under their care." I just wanted to save her from a life in foster care.

I took days off of work and sat cross-legged in my room at home on the phone, calling DHR and adoption attorneys and then even a friend in Montgomery who worked at the capitol. 

I was going insane trying to save this baby, but despite all my efforts I couldn't get to her. I'm telling you, I GRIEVED over this baby and a week later on Mother's Day, I was just a mess. 

A few short months later, Abby Bette would be in our arms, eighteen months after that Joshua would join us, and then nine months after that we would have Ella. 

But in 2012 and 2013, I didn't know all that. I was devastated at the idea of never being a mother. A life without children was not the life I had dreamed of, and I was struggling so hard being content with the beautiful life I did have. 

Re-visiting my past pain is important to me.  It keeps me grateful for these children even when they are all three screaming and when I'm combing vomit out of an afro at 3am and when I've changed the sixth poop diaper of the day before lunchtime and when I can't jog three miles a day because now I'm pushing a monster stroller. 

Even more importantly, reflecting on my time of lament reminds me to keep a compassionate heart for others who are also hurting. 

Infertility was very isolating for me. I wasn't a good friend because I was so jealous. Friends celebrating their pregnancies were scared to tell me because they probably thought the news might be the final push over Crazy Cliff. And ultimately, I just felt lonely.

In one session, my counselor reminded me of the verse from Romans 12 about "rejoicing with those who rejoice and mourning with those who mourn." He told me that a good friend can be happy she is pregnant while also mourning with me that I am not. 

This Mother's Day, I hope to rejoice and mourn.

I am going to celebrate my beautiful mama- everyone who knows Sassy D knows that she is the best of the best. 

I am going to celebrate the loving grandmothers that my children are so very blessed to have, our Sweetie, our Mimi, and our Sassy. 

I am going to celebrate my amazing friends who are mothers in the trenches with me. You guys ROCK!

But I am also going to mourn with you who are mourning.

To my friend who lost her baby after just 11 short weeks in the womb, I haven't forgotten- I'm still mourning that sweet little life.

To my friend  whose adoption is being contested, I am afraid and anxious and jittery just like you are. I know this Mother's Day is a scary one for you.

To my friends who have lost their mothers, I'm thinking about you and grieving your loss with you this Mother's Day. 

To my friends who chose adoption for their babies and are missing them this Mother's Day, I'm proud of you and I'm sorry this day is hard.

To my friends who are fostering the neglected, you are my hero. 

To my former students who had babies before they were ready, you can do this, you are strong and you are brave.

To my friend watching her baby fighting for her life in a tiny hospital bed, covered in tubes and monitors, you are a warrior.

To my friends sitting on an adoption wait list for yet another Mother's Day, I'm praying for you and your child who is out there somewhere. I hope you find one another quickly.

To my friends going through infertility treatments, you're not alone- never think you are alone in this.

To my friends feeling left out and forgotten on this Mother's Day, I see you and I'm thankful for you. 

In this culture of railing against what is politically correct and being hesitant to post your opinion because it might be deemed insensitive to a particular group, it's easy to argue that you have every right to post a bazillion pictures of your kids on social media this Mother's Day. And you would be right to do so. I want you to celebrate your children and the joy they bring to your life. 

I hope you will also take the time to reach out to a person in your life that you suspect might be struggling on Mother's Day. Don't be worried about saying just the right thing. 

One time a woman I barely knew pulled me into a bear hug, held me tight, and whispered these words into my ear:

I have cried every tear you have cried.

I have prayed every prayer you have prayed.

I have had every sad thought you have thought.

And in that moment, I didn't feel so alone.  

For anyone feeling the pain that Mother's Day can bring, I speak those same words over you.