A story about a nibble

Once Upon A Time ...

One weekend afternoon at the end of September, the Mister and I received a phone call from A&K, our friends who are adopting from Ethiopia. They told us that they had a "situation" they wanted to discuss with us. Given that our friendship initially built up around adoption and given that one of them is a healthcare worker, I immediately guessed that there was a baby in a hospital somewhere who needed a home. My guess wasn't too far off.

They told us that a friend of one of their friends has a college-age sister in California who is pregnant and wants to place the baby for adoption (I almost wrote "give up" the baby, but I read somewhere recently that "place" is the appropriate term in open adoption, which makes sense). A&K's friend told the birth mom's family about A&K and the family expressed strong interest in getting more information about A&K. The birth mom's sister lives in our city, so placing with a couple in this city was an interesting idea -- apparently, the birth mom and her family were trying to keep the pregnancy a secret from friends and relatives, so they thought that the birth mom could spend her 3rd trimester in our city with her sister, place the baby, and then go back to her college life in California. The friend told A&K that if they wanted to adopt the baby (a girl), it would almost be a sure thing.

A&K thought seriously about this offer, but ultimately decided that their children are waiting for them in Ethiopia. So they told the friend about us. The friend got permission from the birth family for A&K to present the situation to us, which they did. They also sent us the address of the birth family, who had requested that we send them a bunch of information about ourselves (who we are, why we're adopting, whether we're working with an agency already, how far along are we in the process, etc.) We thought about it overnight and then pulled all the info from the materials we'd already created for the agency, spent a few hours re-writing our "dear birthmother letter" to customize it for this situation and sent the package off.

One of the things that we struggled with about the letter was that A&K told us the birth mom wanted a closed adoption. We've been working so long with the concept of open adoption, that a closed adoption seemed ... strange. The Mister was fine not mentioning it, reasoning that if she wants a closed adoption, who are we to push openness on her? But I've read a lot about women who placed their babies in closed adoptions and then regretted it years later, and I've read the stories of children who were placed in closed adoptions who have spent their lives wondering why their parents didn't want them, and quite frankly, I didn't want any part of that system.

Open adoption makes sense to me primarily because everyone has access to the most basic relevant information -- the birth mom knows that her child is safe and happy, the child knows that the birth mom did what she did from love ... there may be other lingering issues, but the bottom-line "who was my birth mom" and "what happened to my baby" questions are answered. I think that has incredibly important value. So I insisted, when we were writing the letter, that we make it clear that although we were willing to respect her wishes about not having contact with the child, we would want at least a letter and a health history (and hopefully a photo) so that the child had some basic information about where she came from. We also emphasized that we would remain open to openness for the life of the child, in case the birth mom ever changed her mind. Crafting that language to respectful and not pushy took a lot of work.

A few weeks later, the Mister was working from home (as he usually does) when the phone rang. It was a teenage girl, who asked for our adoption counselor by name. Imagine the scene: on the other end of the phone was a real live birth mom who had clearly made a mistake and dialed our number instead of the agency number. How to respond without scaring or embarrassing her or making the situation more awkward than it already was? The Mister went for the direct route, telling her that she'd dialed the wrong number and giving her the counselor's number. Then he shot me an email along the lines of "oh my god I just spoke with the birth mom!" About a half hour later, our counselor called. She had spoken with the birth mom, and said that she seemed like a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders. The birth mom had been working with an agency in California but decided she wasn't comfortable having the child placed with a family close to her, so she'd started looking in our state. The birth mom had requested a copy of our home study, when it was ready. That seemed like a good sign, and of course we gave the counselor permission to send the home study, which she did.

And that was the last we heard from the birth mom until a few weeks ago, when our counselor emailed us a scanned copy of a handwritten note. The birth mom thanked us for putting so much work into our materials, told us that she'd decided to place her child with another adoptive family, and wished us the best of luck with our adoption journey.

It couldn't have been easy for her to write that note, and I respect her greatly for doing so. For us, it was good to have that closure, but by the time we received the note, both the Mister and I were pretty sure that's the way the story was going to end. He held out more hope in the beginning than I did (as is typical with our relationship). In our house, I'm the skeptic -- as soon as I heard about the situation, even as we were pulling all of our information together and re-writing our letter, the little elves in my body who keep me safe were building big brick walls around my heart and mind. This might work out, but I sure as hell was not going to count on it. I didn't and it didn't, and that's all okay.

We kept this one under our hats, given the extreme tentativeness of the situation. But now that it's over, it's part of our history. So there you have it.

The End.

Comments

[luna]

really interesting. glad you at least had the experience to pull all that together, before your home study is even done.

I agree with your reasoning about open adoption and it's good to hear you found a way to state your views without pushing them.

also impressive she wrote that note to you. takes guts.

[melanie]

I can't imagine the emotions you guys went through on this one. Perhaps a thought at one time that it wasn't the right path, then maybe it was and then wondering why? It seems as if it's a whole new range of emotions and reactions to deal with than you're used to...or maybe not. Regardless, my uneducated view on this one is that when it's the right choice on both sides, then poof* magic happens. I wish it for you soon. (And I can't help but be impressed with the birth mother writing you a note...I can't even get my nieces to send thank yous!)

[Shelli]

Sigh. Thank you for sharing this story, it must have been hard to write. After dealing with loss, I am sure this was an open door of totally new emotions for the two of you.

I hate that we are wired to assume disappointment. A sad reality of infertility.

[Fiddle1]

I don't know what to say. I kept hoping the story would end differently. I want that fairy tale for you. I'll always hope. But that doesn't mean I don't want to kick the universe's ass about this.

[Sherry]

wow - another roller coaster ride for you, huh? I'm sorry this is the way it had to end - with disappointment instead of elation.

I hope a better ride is waiting out there for you just around the corner.

[Aegina]

I'm sorry it didn't work out; this cycle of tentative hope and letdown must be grinding. I'm still sure that the right one will come along; I just hope it happens soon.

[Wishing4One]

Wow, i too was waiting to get to the end...so sorry it ended up this way. But in a strange way it was meant to, right? Hoping for a new road to open up soon for you....it will, I just know it. xoxoxoxo

[the Babychaser]

So how are you taking all of this? You seem pretty matter-of-fact about it, but even I (with no concrete interest in the outcome) was feeling pretty worked up reading it.

I don't know if I could cope with that sort of thing. (Then again, I didn't think I could cope with miscarriage or IVF, or even IF, for that matter.) I'm so impressed with your stamina and strength. Then again, I'm also thinking that it's one of the reasons we want to go with international adoption, should we go down that road.

Take care. If you're really broken up about this and want to tell us that, too, please let us know. This is a really good place for that kind of thing.

[Giantspeedbump]

I'm so sorry. We had a similar experience. A couple of months later, I started experiencing the strangest shift in personality - I was very bitter - and felt very disconnected from the world around me. It took my therapist to say "DUH, you've had another major loss!".
She helped me realize this is no different than a miscarriage, and that it is important to grieve.
Odd part is, I hadn't even thought about it that way until that moment.
Take care of yourself. xo

[Jill]

I stumbled on your blog today because I've been talking about adoption with my husband, even if we are able to have a bio-kid. I started with your first page, congrats! But I went all the way back to May and have read the entire thing (sorry taxpayers of the city). I've been so touched by your experience. I am not a woman struggling with IF, though it's a fear I've always had. I'm a newly wed. I HAD to comment on this post because, through your deep disappointment, you thought of how hard that letter was for the birth mother to write and thanked her. I like you. I'm going to keep reading! Thank you for sharing your story.