Chapter 10: Loss & Moving On

Chapter 10

The second half of the expectant mother's pregnancy, who we've supported since she first found out she was pregnant and wanted to place her baby with us for adoption, proceeded smoothly and we continued to behave as family. She continued to convince us over and over of all of the reasons that this was to be our child and that it would be the best choice for his sake. We repeatedly heard, "It would be a disaster for me to raise this kid." We tried to remain wise with the knowledge that it was entirely possible that she would change her mind; that's her right. But with her constant reassurance and reliance on us for support, we fell more and more deeply committed to this baby and his mother. We gave literally every ounce of emotional energy, time, services, skills and financial resources that we had to give for as positive and easy a pregnancy as she could experience. Even so, her pregnancy was very difficult on her body and she resented the stress it caused. She often expressed regret at getting pregnant and also at continuing the pregnancy. We listened for hours, often several times each week, and reassured that this child would have all of the love, support and advantages he would need to live a wonderful life.

I acknowledge these emotional and resource investments that we made in this new extended family vision that was co-formed with the expectant mother, not because they were given with conditions, but because they were given with love and hope and then were dismissed in a single impulsive moment along with our role in this child's life. That is a devastating loss, not matter how rightful deciding to parent at the last minute is for an expectant mother planning on adoption.

At her request, we travelled to be near and help with her home preparations and hospital check-in 5 days before labor induction was scheduled. The biological father had entered within the final few weeks as a new boyfriend, and we spent time getting to know him as well. We enjoyed our time with them and appreciated his kindness toward her leading up to the birth, which she was very afraid and anxious about. He stated that though he did not want the adoption plan, he would support her desires, which was why he released his rights earlier in the pregnancy. So, we attended medical appointments, mowed her lawn, fixed her car, mopped her floors, helped her put her elderly dog down, and held our breathe while waiting to meet this child who she called our son and referred to often by the name we had chosen together.

When we arrived at the hospital, things started to feel a bit different. She and her boyfriend didn't call to let us know they were on the way, she didn't introduce us as she had done before as the adoptive parents, and we were asked to leave the room several times and wait for hours in the lobby for news or allowance to be included as planned. Her boyfriend was an excellent birth partner, so I was no longer needed for that either. She did invite my husband and I back into the room for her son's birth, but that is where this story for us ended and her new story began. After a beautiful delivery, we had about an hour to stare at this amazing little life in the room with what would have been our integrated, open adoption family before the mother asked the nurse to tell us to leave. Four hours later in the lobby, her boyfriend came out to inform us that she had changed her mind. After experiencing the shock and first waves of grief, we went in to say goodbye to the new mother. She appeared refreshed and very happy. She said, "Hey, sorry guys, when he came out I just knew! I can't deny my feelings, right?" Though I hugged her and wished her good luck, I was stabbed by this statement because I believe that is exactly what adoption is about...denying your own adult feelings and doing the hardest thing ever so that your child lives a life without so many hard things...prioritizing a child's needs and rights to a healthy, happy, relatively stress-free stable family where all his basic needs will be met. I've had to really re-think my beliefs about this.

We drove the long night home alternating between silence and sobs. We are resilient people, with solid coping strategies and a healthy dose of love and gratitude for all of our experiences...both joyful and difficult. We will be fine. We sincerely hope that they will also be fine.

As we evaluate our gains and losses from this experience, we recognize that we will likely never see the many thousands of dollars that we paid in her bills and expenses throughout the pregnancy. Though this is not in any way about the financial risks and losses, we hope to have a new opportunity and with that will come a new expectant mother to support. I wish that with her newfound sense of responsibility for raising this child, she (and the child's father) would also take responsibility for at least a small portion of her needs during her pregnancy. Otherwise, I will need to reframe our efforts in my mind during this pregnancy as an act of charity and find some peace in that. These are the messy, unattractive clean-up parts of my grief that I am exposing here. The hot pain throbs underneath the cold logistics.

Back at home, we pack all of the baby's things into a closed space and share love with each other, our spunky teen, our heart-broken extended family, and our generous friends. I know what we are supposed to say and maybe it's true: this simply was not meant to be our child. Our child hasn't found us yet. He or she will come to us and we will know that it was meant to be. Ok. Got it. Moving on...