Tomorrow it will be three weeks since we first met possible birthmom #2. Today I sent her an e-mail closing the relationship door. It’s been three weeks of emotion, some of the highest highs and equally low lows. There were plenty of moments when I thought this was it. She called the agency, she made multiple appointments with the social worker, and we shared many deep conversations that had me convinced that this was meant to be. But there were just as many moments when I wondered if we would ever be parents. She failed to return the agency’s paperwork, she flaked on every single appointment, and balanced drama with sudden silence. Multiple times I wrote her off, considered the situation over, and set a course to move on. And then suddenly she re-appeared, pulling us up off the ground to another exciting high, just to drop our already bruised emotions yet again.
I will forever wonder what was really happening on the other end of all the texts and phone calls. Is she really a scared pregnant teenager with a dad fighting overseas, a preoccupied mom, and an abusive boyfriend? Or is she a lonely soul seeking attention without a pregnancy to speak of? We will most likely never know for sure, and in the end it doesn’t really matter. We’ve been through an emotional tornado, and I am exhausted.
When you’ve been disappointed time and time again you become skeptical of any prospect of a happy ending. Especially when your fate lies completely out of your control, in the hands of someone you’ve just met. Who is this woman? What’s going through her mind? What can I do to help her? How do I know if anything she’s telling me is real?
On the one hand, you want so badly for things to work out, for everything to fall into place. But you also remember that adoption is plagued with heartache, and you are constantly looking over your shoulder for the red flags, trying to protect yourself. You can’t help but wonder in the back of your mind — Is she telling the truth?
At this point we are at the mercy of a 17 year old girl. We know only what she’s told us, and told the social workers. We step forward, one step at a time, on faith and prayers. And, skeptical as I may be at points, I find myself caught up in the excitement, in the idea that this could be it. I find myself absorbed into the situation, already falling in love with this child, envisioning bringing this baby into our family. I imagine this is our baby’s birthmom, and already feel the bond that will tie us together through love for the same young soul. My heart is officially no longer guarded, and in the hands of someone who was a stranger just over a week ago. Something tells me to trust her, so I do.
Just about 36 hours after the call that our first potential adoption situation was not going to work out I got contacted by another possible Birthmom. It started with an e-mail early Saturday evening that quickly turned into a short phone call. The weekend continued with text messages, longer phone calls, and an emotional tornado that I had not seen coming. By mid day on Sunday she started saying she wants to place her baby with us, and as of our most recent conversation wants us to visit before the birth. In just a few days we went from hopeless to very, very hopeful!
There’s still a long way to go, and in many ways this situation is less certain than the previous. Our agency, with 30 years of experience spotting red flags, hasn’t been involved yet at all. They haven’t assessed any ambivalence, counselled her on the consequences of her decisions, or determined possible drug abuse. We haven’t even seen proof of pregnancy. There is a lot yet to be determined. But there is hope!
Yesterday evening my husband and I had tickets for a baseball game. It was nice to escape the whirlwind for some time together. The excitement of what might be happening, connecting with the possible birthmom of our child, sunk in. Weather or not this continues to play out, weather or not it results in placing a baby in our family, we allowed ourselves to revel in the possibilities, the joy, the hope.
A few minutes in the ballpark shop got us a token to remember the occasion. Weather it’s for this baby, we don’t know. But it’s for our baby. Because we know that baby is out there!