A New Level of Heartache

I'm not entirely sure why I want to air all this dirty laundry out. A part of me thinks that after bottling things up for so long, that letting it all out might be therapeutic. The other part of me just doesn't want to relay the story to everyone who will inevitably ask about it. Enough people know what's been going on, and I just don't have the energy to repeat as necessary. The other reason I suppose is to educate. Anyone who thinks that adoption is taking the easy way out has obviously not been through an adoption. Hopefully after this epic miserable post I can begin to move on and work on finding that gratitude in any circumstance that President Uchtdorf talks about. While this post may be laced with bitterness and anger, I honestly don't lay blame on anyone and I do have a level of understanding. It's just hiding behind some serious hurt.

Last post I alluded to our first failed match this year. All I really want to say about that one is I learned some tough lessons. Adoption has many roads, and though I desperately want a baby, I learned that not all roads are created equal, and that I truly would like to do things in the right way. I want to stick to my beliefs about adoption and be proud of myself at the end of the journey. While that match was failing, I felt our miracle was unfolding. As hard as it was to know that match wasn't the path for us, I was filled with hope at this new possibility. After more than a year with LDS Family Services, we got our very first email from an expectant mom. This was March, and she informed me she was due in May with a baby girl. Right away it felt different and I knew it was a path we needed to take.

We began to exchange emails and I was floored by how much we had in common. She asked wonderful questions that made me evaluate my beliefs on adoption and parenting. By answering them, I learned so much about myself and what things mattered the most. I felt such a connection to her and felt like we would be the best of friends under any circumstance. After awhile, she invited us to meet her and her mom at the agency. We were so nervous, especially knowing that we were one of three families. We were so excited and felt so good about the the meeting. Mark and I left feeling very positive. We felt a lot of love for her and her mom and knew we had a connection. A few days went by and I wanted to die. I craved hearing any news. I finally felt prompted to invite her and her mom to our home. They accepted and came up that next weekend. We had a wonderful visit and they stayed for over four hours. My love for this girl continued to grow.

After they left, communication went dead for a few weeks and it was torture. Awful. I wondered how I could have misjudged the meeting so horribly. It was such a rollercoaster as we had no idea where we stood, or even what her thoughts on adoption were. She was very shy, quiet, and private. From the beginning, we knew she hadn't made her mind up about adoption at all---only that it was a possibility. Finally, out of the blue I got a text from her that she and the expectant dad would like to come visit. Once again, we had a great visit and fell in love with him as well. Yet again, we were forced to wait to hear any feedback. The waiting days are just maddening. Your mind plays a million tricks on you. I've never prayed so hard in my life, hoping for peace, comfort, direction, anything!  The agency finally let us know that she was leaning towards adoption. She had been on the fence up to this point but now, she was 70/30 in favor of placing, and if she did place, it would be with us. It was nice to know we were no longer one of three families. At this point, two months had passed and she was 36 weeks pregnant. Everyone was feeling the pressure of a due date, and the agency was hoping to help her see that she needed to make a decision before the baby arrived, because emotions would be high and realistic thinking at the hospital would be a stretch. Her mom began calling me and implored us to remain patient. Her mom is a saint and she and I had such wonderful phone conversations. She is a kind, loving woman who was worried about us and our feelings, while trying to support her daughter in whatever decision she made. I felt like her mom and I understood each other so well, even though we were on opposite ends of the adoption spectrum. It felt like everyone involved really was trying to be prayerful and that pieces were falling into place. There can only be so many coincidences in life right?

It was months of torture. Trying to be patient, kind, understanding, and supportive. Hoping you were coming off as true to yourselves and genuine. We honestly cared for them and hoped they were finding peace in the turmoil they were feeling. You worry you are being analyzed and I often felt so inadequate. I know I am not a perfect mom or a better mom than the thousands of other couples hoping to adopt, or a better mom than a birth mother who places that kind of trust in me. I am not a perfect parent. I have seen the heartache of someone placing their baby in my arms. I have felt guilt knowing someone has to go through that so that I can be a mom. I have a special place in my heart reserved for birth moms. They are amazing people who absolutely love their children. We fasted lots. We prayed lots. We went to the temple lots. I always felt a lot of anxiety wondering if things would actually work out, but I felt a surprising amount of peace at the same time as well. Mark also felt very strongly that this path was right, that things would work out.

About two and half weeks ago we got the call we yearned for. We were chosen and she wanted to place. However, when she told the father he decided he would fight her decision. It shocked everyone and felt oh so tragic. There were many phone conversations about what to do next, would court be an option. Everyone fasted and prayed for a miracle. Everyone wanted him back on board. Everyone wanted these two great kids to be united and make a decision they felt good about---a decision they would feel would be best for the baby. They consistently spoke of not being ready to get married, not wanting to marry each other. They spoke about wanting a stable two parent home, sparing their baby from years of shared custody. But all that now seemed in jeopardy. Lots of prayers, lots of fasting from everyone. About two weeks ago, we got an invite to a BBQ. I wasn't given any info besides we were to meet her entire family, the father, and the father's parents. We felt like maybe he and his parents wanted to ask us their own questions and the interview process would continue. We were told to bring Paige. We were awfully excited and awfully nervous. We went to her house and had a fabulous time. Her family was wonderful. His family was wonderful. We enjoyed being with them all. It felt comfortable and natural and very promising for an open adoption. I felt such love. I was excited that this process included all these people and the idea of an ongoing relationship was amazing. After dinner the expectant mom and dad brought out this huge basket full of clothes, frames she had made, books she had written notes in, a blanket she made, and a baby hat crocheted by her little sister. They told us we would be great parents.  He had come 180 degrees, we felt like it had been nothing short of a miracle and an answer to many prayers. We talked names, I made plans for a newborn session we could all go to together. We hugged and cried. Their families were all there witnessing this and I felt so blessed that all these people could come together for this baby. I felt like we were gaining an extended family. I couldn't believe how lucky we were. Paige would have a sister, they would have each other, and they could share adoption together. They would both have wonderful birth families that would be a blessing in their lives. I couldn't believe Heavenly Father would see fit to bless us with two incredible adoptions. Could winning the lottery twice be possible?

We learned she was having her membranes stripped the following Monday. I panicked and quickly set off to prepare. I bought a car seat, I had birth parent gifts and birth grandparent gifts custom made. I wanted them to be so special to show them our love for them. I stressed mightily about these gifts. They had to be perfect, because even if they were perfect they would never be enough. How do you even express the gratitude you feel when someone so selflessly allows you to be a mom? I did lots of laundry and filled empty drawers with baby clothes. We brainstormed a list of names, making sure to use names the birth parents would like and would pay tribute to them. I texted them both through the week, finally feeling like I was free to build a lasting relationship with them. We joked and laughed. We got an email from the agency detailing the placement plan. We were so happy. I coached Paige, preparing her for a baby sister. Helping her adjust to the big change ahead. I felt so sure. I was nervous, nothing is ever a done deal. This process had been long, but full of "coincidences." The connections were just too strong, the miracles in the details evident. I felt like it had been such a long journey to help those two be sure. They waited to commit until they were sure. The gift basket had just been too thoughtful, it had to have been the result of deep thinking and reason. I felt like all my lightening fast preparations magically fell into place. I was nervous with anticipation, even a bit freaked out about the thought of having a newborn and two kids. It seemed a bit overwhelming, but it was right. It was meant to be and I knew that I would have the help I needed to be able to do it. And so, we waited.

Days crept by and we were on pins and needles, I couldn't wait. I wanted to see her, I wanted the most difficult months of my life to be over. It would all be worth it. Finally, Sunday, the text came. She was in labor and the baby would be here soon. Late that night I got birth stats and a picture....and that was it. I wanted to be excited, she was so beautiful. I was scared. It felt very distanced. I shook it off and knew it was an emotional time and I wanted them to have those special moments to themselves. They needed to have that time for themselves and I could put my desires to see her aside for them. I loved them and wanted them to have whatever they needed, even if that meant we needed to be distant. Monday rolled around and there was no news. No more details---except that they no longer wanted to sign at 24 hours and things would be pushed back to Wednesday but we could maybe see the baby Tuesday. I closed the door to the nursery. I just couldn't bear to walk by and see it. Tuesday morning arrived and Paige saw the door to the nursery was closed. She asked me if the baby was asleep in the baby bed and if she needed to be quiet. I cried. Tuesday continued to crawl on and there was no invite to the hospital. I got a call from her mom that they were struggling, but no decisions had been made. She says she still felt like there was hope. Nothing had changed, they didn't want to be together, or get married, and they were still just kids. She asked that we continue to pray, submit their names to the temple. She said she reminded them that this would be an open adoption and they would still have a role in this baby's life. I assured her we would want nothing more than for them to be a part of her life. I tell her that any and all of them were welcome at any time. I invite the expectant mother to spend serious time at our house this summer, spend weeks. We talk about a gradual break since we would need to stay in Utah for at least a week. They just needed to find the strength and remember all the reasons they felt adoption was right to begin with. We prayed. We went to the temple. I tried to have hope, but my heart already hurt. Tuesday night brought no news. Wednesday morning brought  no news. I turned 50 and my blood pressure was no longer manageable. The first words out of Paige's mouth when she woke up were once again, "Is the baby coming today?"  She seemed so disinterested and resistant, and now I cursed myself for all those pep talks.

Mark tried to contact their social worker. She had no news, but was heading to the hospital soon since they would be discharged within hours. I sent her an emotional text pleading with her to share some words with the parents. Things I wish I would have, could have said.  Finally, I see his name flash across my phone, but I know this is not a good a sign. I dread answering the phone but I do and try my best to keep my emotions in check. He asks how I am doing. He then says, "Well, Jenny. I have some bad news. We thought about it long and hard and we just can't do it. We are sorry and we really like you guys. We think you guys are fun and remind us so much of certain members of our family." I honestly had no words. Paige could tell I was upset and asked once again, while I am on the phone, "Are you sad because the baby isn't here yet Mom?" At that point I was just a bit angry. It seemed fine to hurt me, but I hated that Paige was aware. I wanted him to explain this to her. I wanted him to hear her in the background wondering what was going on. I wondered what was going on myself and "I am sorry, thanks for taking this journey with us the last three months and being so awesome but we aren't going to do this"  was not doing it for me any longer. At that point I wanted nothing more than to throw my phone in the ditch.

When I walked inside, I was immediately greeted with an upset child, and a table full of beautifully wrapped, custom made birth parent gifts. Things that weren't returnable. A cradle in my room waiting for a newborn, a gift basket so thoughtfully put together. All I saw was stuff, stuff that I couldn't take back. Stuff I didn't have a clue what to do with. Stuff I couldn't stand the sight of. Mark came home and asked about what exactly happened and I relayed the 5 minute conversation that shattered our hopes. We sat outside for hours, watching Paige play with toys and her baby doll. A baby doll that she normally cared less about, but has since been inseparable from and I can hardly watch.

I immediately made plans to leave town, I just couldn't be in my house that was all ready to welcome a newborn. Paige and I left the next morning to be with family in Boise. It was nice to bury my head in the sand for a few days. I found a home for a few of the non returnable items and it felt good to get rid of the reminders. It was easy to distract myself away from home, pretend it all never happened. But it was short lived, and the drive home was brutal. I was alone, the road was long, and I knew that the house would still be full of baby things. All the newborn clothes I laid out to be placed in a suitcase continue to sit out. I just can't do it. I can't walk into that room and put all those clean clothes back in the plastic tubs.

As for now I feel discouraged, confused, and hurt. A lot of sadness. Depending on the moment I am either very sad or very mad. I don't feel anger towards anyone specifically, I know adoption isn't easy for anyone, and I know the process wasn't easy for them either. I know they didn't intend to inflict pain and they weren't being malicious. It just stinks. I feel such a sense of loss and mourning of what might have been. The baby, the open relationship with all of them, the situation itself, wonderful people I will never forget, but who no longer want a place in our lives. Everything. It was just perfect and too good to be true I guess. Paige is literally the greatest blessing ever. It is not possible for me to sit in bed all day with her around. I am so grateful I can throw myself into being her mom. Enjoying her smiles, laughs, and kisses. She helps me forge ahead and reminds me of all the things I have. It is impossible to sit and feel sorry for myself when she demands so much of my time and attention and I am just beyond grateful for her. I am not alone...I have her. I have a good husband, amazing friends and family. I have had an amazing, wonderful adoption experience and share a wonderful relationship with an amazing birth family who I love deeply. I have lots to be grateful for. I know that. But I still feel awful. I feel for Paige, and the thought of her being an only child kills me.  Right now I am not sure where to turn or where to go. Everything feels a bit hopeless, and I wonder if I have anything left in me to keep pursuing this. It is just so hard to put yourself out there, to feel vulnerable, to take those emotional and financial risks. I question my judgment and discernment. I am still shocked that this particular situation ended this way. In some ways it just doesn't seem possible. I am not sure how things could have been more perfect or guided, and for it to end this way frightens me. How can I ever trust a seemingly right situation ever again? What exactly was the purpose of all this if this was the end result? I have more questions than answers and just don't have any idea what to do or where to go next. I wish I could hide for awhile, but our home study expires soon and will force my hand. I really would rather not do anything adoption related right now.

Sorry for the long post and that there are no pictures to even break it up. Pretty sure I am not going to do much proofing either. I hope it isn't too much or too personal. I really don't need or expect anyone to say anything. I am not fishing for comments or sympathy. I just wanted to put it out there. In my head I know all the right answers and the right things to say or feel, but sometimes my heart just isn't there yet. I am sure in time things will work out. I know all will be well and ok and that there is a plan of sorts for us out there somewhere. But right now, things are dark and I am in survival mode. It is what it is and we are gonna work through it.