A Whirlwind Courtship
This June I will be celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary. Oh my gosh, did I just write that... 25 years??? Where has the time gone? Alot of people wonder how in the world did we stay together after only 4 months of dating before we said our vows. Yep, you read right. Only 4 months of dating. Why? What in the world were we thinking? Well, let me tell you...
In September of 1980 I moved myself up to Seattle to reunite with my boyfriend who was in the Coast Guard. I was only 17, but promised my parents that I would get my GED and go on to college. They agreed knowing that I'd do it anyway. Yeah, kind of rebellious in my teen years. Anyway, after a couple of months he walked in the apartment one afternoon and told me to pack my bags and go home and he didn't want nor need me anymore and walked out the door. That hit me like a ton of bricks. I was only 17, still not an adult and very spontaneous. So what did I do????? Took a whole bottle of Tylenol w/codeine.
After I did that I realized that I didn't want to die. I wanted to go home where I was safe and secure. I didn't like this grown-up bit. I wasn't ready to be a grown up and take on the responsibilities of it. I called my boyfriend's best friend and told him the stupid thing I had done. He immediately dispatched everyone he knew to help me. The next thing I know I had the fire department, police department and ambulance at my service.
I didn't want my parents to know the stupid thing I had done and agreed to drink some Epicak (sp?) to get the stuff out of my system. They said that if I drank it they would not call my parents, but just take me to the hospital to talk with someone. Okay, I can handle that. Well, they then gave me a choice. Did I want to ride in the Fire Truck, the Ambulance or the Police Car? Yep, they actually gave me a choice. I actually chose the police car because it was brand new. To be honest it was a toss up with the fire truck and police car. I had never ridden in either one. Those poor policemen didn't know what hit them when that stuff started to take effect. You could say that I broke in their police car - lol. They were cordial and sympathetic with me though.
They put me in a room and took some blood work. A psychologist came in and we spoke for some time. I explained to her that it was a stupid thing that I did. I told her about what happened that day and the prior days. She said that his abuse towards me was in an emotional respect and the only crazy one was him and not me. She told me I was going to be just fine and that she's release me in the next hour or two. (you see, I didn't give the stuff a chance to work - right after I took them I realized what I had done.)
A nurse came in with a phone and told me that I had a call. On the line was my big brother and my dad. They were not angry at me but at my boyfriend. My brother said that he was loading the shotgun as we spoke - lol (loving protective brother) and he'd be flying up to bring me home. I told him that this was my battle and I was going to finish it off. They actually sent me home with my boyfriend that night. His friend offered me a place to stay (in fact, come to find out later that his best friend liked me). But I had to face this problem and since he wasn't a physical abuser then I could handle one night. I basically told him to stay out of my way or I'd deck him - LOL. The next morning I flew home.....
Oh my gosh, you don't know how good it felt to be home. I felt safe, secure and happy again. I felt that I learned a life lesson. I felt that my actions were wreckless, stupid and very immature. But I was alive and grateful for it. You'd think I'd learn though. It was 1 year earlier that I lost my best friend to an overdose. Maybe that's what saved me.
When I returned it was around the Christmas Holiday season. I wasn't working so mom and dad gave me money to spend for the holidays. I went out with friends that I had known for quite some time to concerts, dinner and movies. Everyone was trying to keep me as busy as possible.
In January I told my mom that I wanted to work for a year before attending college. Since I had taken typing in high school (when I attended) my mom said that a receptionists job would be great for me. That evening she found an ad in the paper for me and I called it the next morning.
I had an interview that next "evening". An evening interview? Both my mom and I found this kind of strange, but I wanted to check it out anyway. I asked that my mom go with me because I didn't know the area very well. The interview was at a home in a residential neighborhood. My mom was nervous and said that maybe I shouldn't do this, but I said that I'm up for an adventure and wanted to check it out. My mom thought I was crazy and so did I, but I'm always up for a challenge. When I went to the door a "large" biker guy answered with a full arm cast. I looked at him and told him that I probably had the wrong house, but he said "no" and to not worry because it was a legitimate business. I was escorted to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table to fill out an application. I sat there watching the hustle and bustle of people trying to figure out what type of business they had. There was a large box of keys sitting in the middle of the table with tags. One guy came up and pulled out a set and gave directions to another guy and sent him on his way. I finally asked what kind of business it was and he told me "car repo". Oh my - did I really want to be there? I told them that I'd fill out the application in my car and bring it back. They obliged and I left. When I got in the car I told my mom what had happened. That was one job I did NOT want. So we left.
The next day I was at the bank and a friend of the family that works there asked me if I wanted to become a bank teller. Sure why not!!!! So I put in my application. In the meantime, I decided to do some temp work with an agency to get my feet wet. My first assignment was a company not too far from home.
It was February 9th, 1981 and I was very nervous walking into my first assignment. I was 17 and actually in the working field. All my other friends were still in high school (I did get my GED in Seattle). I met the owner and a couple of his associates and was made comfortable in the office. They gave me my desk with all the necessary tools right next to a huge window with a view. They told me that they'd have someone bring me a typewriter (pc computers were not really in style then). About a half hour later this nice guy with reddish brown hair (shoulder length), full beard, mustache and nice built brought me my typewriter. He introduced himself as "J". The outlet for the typewriter was in the floor underneath my desk so he offered to get it set up for me. I tease "J" now because I think he was just trying to look up my skirt - LOL. And you know what - He agrees!!!
During the day "J" seemed to come through the office quite a bit and strike up a conversation with me. Just a little here and there. By the afternoon he had about 10 guys outside the front window looking in at me - LOL. He showed off with lifting things and smiling my way. He sure was cute. He also tried to make me laugh. My heart just kind of melted.
On my second day of work "J" asked me to lunch. Since he had a motorcycle and I was wearing a dress, we took my car. We sat and had a nice lunch and talked about ourselves. He was shocked to learn that I was only 17 and I was shocked to learn that he was 20. I was in awe of his wonderful smile and soothing personality. But I was also leary about men at that point.
Later that afternoon I received a call from my mom that I had gotten the position as teller for the bank. That training would start in 2 days. I was thrilled but kind of sad. It was then that the owner came into the office and offered me a full time job. I think he knew that "J" liked me and I got along great with everyone. It really was a nice relaxing office to work. But I declined and told him that I accepted another position. I thanked him for the work experience and told him that if this other job didn't work out that I'd love to come work for him.
"J" was kind of disappointed that I took another job, but I also explained to him that if he was serious about going out with me that I couldn't work and date in the same office anyway. I took "J" home for dinner that night to meet my parents. My dad got a kick out of him and they hit it off right away. My mom always liked the guys I brought home because she trusted my judgment. She told me she didn't care if I dated a biker "as long as he doesn't bring his bike into the house". Gosh - you just gotta love my mom.
We started dating and on my 18th birthday in April, "J" presented me with an engagement ring and roses. On bended knee (in our family room) he told me that he knew I was the one for him from the 1st day we met. That he wanted to ask me on our first date - lol. He promised to take care of me and love me for eternity. Well, what does a girl say but.....
YES!!!!
My parents were not surprised and really liked "J". We decided to have an October wedding. We started planning and searching reception halls. The guest lists were being made by the parents. His father's wife ("J"s Step mom) refused to attend the wedding if I didn't wear a certain veil - STRIKE 1. One of my best friends decided to have her wedding on the exact same date and told me that I needed to move my wedding date even though I was engaged before her - STRIKE 2. My mom came up with this astronomical guest list. It was HUGE and none of my friends were on it. I told her that was fine, but I had a dozen or so friends of my own that I wanted to add. My little sister "B" (who's a natural child of my aparents) came up to me in front of my mom and said "mom and dad can't afford a big wedding for you. Only their real daughter!!" Ouch!!! that hurt. My mom was dumbfounded and didn't know what to say. I knew it wasn't true, but my sister was drumming it into my head all my life about real and not real B.S. - STRIKE 3. That was my breaking point. I know every bride feels this way, but good gosh -
I moved out that day and moved in with a friend. I told my mom that she should have stopped "B" in her tracks and she hurt me. My mom was so dumbfounded that I'm not even sure what happened after I left. I moved THAT DAY.
"J" told me to forget all of them and let's just elope. Right after that I found out I was pregnant and told him that maybe he was right. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of eloping. So we made calls and told them that we were getting married in 2 weeks and if they wanted to come then fine. If not, well then TOO BAD!!
My mom came over to the apartment and apologized. She said that she wanted me to have a beautiful wedding. I told her that time is of the essence and explained the dilema. She understood and off we went to find a dress and flowers. I wanted one of my friends to stand up with me as maid of honor, but my mom asked me to do her a favor and ask my sister because she's be the only sister that I'd ever have (so we thought). So I did out of respect for my mom. Am I a sucker or what...
The 13th day of June arrived. We were married on the 13th day, 13th hour with 13 people present. How's that for BAD luck - LOL.
It was a nice intimate wedding. My parents surprised us by having a sit down luncheon/dinner at a nice nice restaurant on the bay. They also surprised us with a beautiful cake with a crystal heart as a topper. My day was complete. I had a wonderful husband, family that didn't give up on me and still came through no matter what our dilemas were, and IN-LAWS. Okay, so it wasn't perfect.
J's and my time together has been trying. We've had lots of ups and downs like any other couple. I think the first 5 years were the hardest on us. All my friends except for one is divorced and working on their 2nd and 3rd marriages. Even my brother and sister have 2nd marriages. Me - I've worked hard at my marriage and intend to keep working on it. J is the most special person and my true soul mate. I once asked him why he loved me. He said because I put up with his crap!!! LOL. No - really.... he said because we laugh and cry together, we don't fight over big stuff like money and home, we know what the other is thinking by just looking at their eyes (which is oh so true).
Love has gotten us through alot of rough patches. I think I'll keep him for just a while longer...
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Am I real or not
In the adoption world you can go to board after board and get different answers to questions. I have noticed in the past couple of years the issue of being a "real" parent to a child as an adoptive parents has been a huge debate.
Now I have thought long and hard about this and really looked at the definitions of the word "real".
There are 10 definitions for the word real as an adjective, 1 as a noun and 1 as idiom. That's alot of definitions for a four letter word. And it goes to prove that one word can mean so many things to different people and situations.
As an adoptive parent I'm not pretending to be a parent, but living the day to day activities of parenthood with the good, the bad and the ugly.
One of the definitions for real is.... "Being or occurring in fact or actuality; having verifiable existence..." Well, that just proved my point to the sentence before this definition.
Then there's "true and actual; not imaginary, alleged, or ideal"...
How about "of or founded on practical matters and concerns"...
All three of the definitions show that I am, as a person and even an adoptive mother, real as real can be. I may not be the original, first or birth mother but I am in every sense a real mother.
I think the definition I like the most is "being no less than what is stated; worthy of the name"...
So what makes a real parent? Is it birthrights? Is it genetic make up? Or is it the love and understanding that it takes to raise a child.
I have to tell you that as an adoptive parent I was appalled by the thought of someone thinking of me not as a real mother. And as an adoptee I was hurt that someone could think that the mother who raised and nurtured me wasn't real. That would be like saying that I was raised in a robotic atmosphere without compassion. My mom raised me with love and understanding. She was there for my skinned knees, trophies that were won, first words, first steps, first lost tooth, etc. My mom is REAL in every sense of the word and its definitions. Then again, so is my birthmom. I have 2 real moms. Twice the love and understanding. I consider myself very lucky and priviledged to have both of them in my life.
In the adoption world you can go to board after board and get different answers to questions. I have noticed in the past couple of years the issue of being a "real" parent to a child as an adoptive parents has been a huge debate.
Now I have thought long and hard about this and really looked at the definitions of the word "real".
There are 10 definitions for the word real as an adjective, 1 as a noun and 1 as idiom. That's alot of definitions for a four letter word. And it goes to prove that one word can mean so many things to different people and situations.
As an adoptive parent I'm not pretending to be a parent, but living the day to day activities of parenthood with the good, the bad and the ugly.
One of the definitions for real is.... "Being or occurring in fact or actuality; having verifiable existence..." Well, that just proved my point to the sentence before this definition.
Then there's "true and actual; not imaginary, alleged, or ideal"...
How about "of or founded on practical matters and concerns"...
All three of the definitions show that I am, as a person and even an adoptive mother, real as real can be. I may not be the original, first or birth mother but I am in every sense a real mother.
I think the definition I like the most is "being no less than what is stated; worthy of the name"...
So what makes a real parent? Is it birthrights? Is it genetic make up? Or is it the love and understanding that it takes to raise a child.
I have to tell you that as an adoptive parent I was appalled by the thought of someone thinking of me not as a real mother. And as an adoptee I was hurt that someone could think that the mother who raised and nurtured me wasn't real. That would be like saying that I was raised in a robotic atmosphere without compassion. My mom raised me with love and understanding. She was there for my skinned knees, trophies that were won, first words, first steps, first lost tooth, etc. My mom is REAL in every sense of the word and its definitions. Then again, so is my birthmom. I have 2 real moms. Twice the love and understanding. I consider myself very lucky and priviledged to have both of them in my life.
Did they know each other?????
In one of my posts I had stated that my amom & adad thought they met my bmom and her hubby somewhere before. The same applies for my bmom and her hubby thinking the same thing about my parents.
Acouple of people have asked.... Have they figured out where they met before?
The answer:
Not yet. But there's alot that plays into this. Although my bmom was raised in the mountains of California, my amom was raised in the city where I was born and my bmom was living there with her sister at the time. This is where my bmom met her hubby after my birth. They lived very close by that city for awhile. And the more we talk (all of us) the more coincidences come into play.
My bfamily lived in two places where we frequented very very often. They lived close by where we had a cabin in the mountains. We were there every weekend and all summer. There was a community pool and the "creek" (actually it's a river, but we call it a creek) where we hung out. Another place was another cabin in another area of the mountains that we frequented that was owned by friends of our family. My bfamily lived in that same area too during that time.
My bbrother used to stop at this one store to rest when he was going back and forth from Arizona to Oregon on his Harley. My dh and I lived less than 2 blocks from it and were there frequently. My luck I passed by him at some point in time.
We seemed to all be around the same place at the same time. My amom seems to think that maybe they saw each other at the county agency through which I was placed. That would make the most common sense.
I'm sorry to say, but it's still a mystery. But if I have any new developments I will let you all know.
In one of my posts I had stated that my amom & adad thought they met my bmom and her hubby somewhere before. The same applies for my bmom and her hubby thinking the same thing about my parents.
Acouple of people have asked.... Have they figured out where they met before?
The answer:
Not yet. But there's alot that plays into this. Although my bmom was raised in the mountains of California, my amom was raised in the city where I was born and my bmom was living there with her sister at the time. This is where my bmom met her hubby after my birth. They lived very close by that city for awhile. And the more we talk (all of us) the more coincidences come into play.
My bfamily lived in two places where we frequented very very often. They lived close by where we had a cabin in the mountains. We were there every weekend and all summer. There was a community pool and the "creek" (actually it's a river, but we call it a creek) where we hung out. Another place was another cabin in another area of the mountains that we frequented that was owned by friends of our family. My bfamily lived in that same area too during that time.
My bbrother used to stop at this one store to rest when he was going back and forth from Arizona to Oregon on his Harley. My dh and I lived less than 2 blocks from it and were there frequently. My luck I passed by him at some point in time.
We seemed to all be around the same place at the same time. My amom seems to think that maybe they saw each other at the county agency through which I was placed. That would make the most common sense.
I'm sorry to say, but it's still a mystery. But if I have any new developments I will let you all know.
A Child Enters Our Lives
After the Columbian fiasco we decided to pack up the nursery (beautiful south american theme with bright colors) and try to pick up the pieces and go on with our lives. It was tough and not a single day went by that I didn't think about Kristina. I was literally tired physically, mentally and emotionally. I started to feel like God dealt me a zinger of a life. I was content with being adopted and had no issues with it, but just couldn't grasp the "whys" of EVERYTHING. At this time I had not reunited with my birthfamily and had no family with my dh (children). But I knew in my heart that there were reasons. In a way I find it amusing because I think it gave me strength in some odd way. Strength that I never knew I had.
We started anew by getting a new house out in the suburbs of the Bay Area. It was in a brand new up and coming development. I was really apprehensive about the move because I had lived in one area my whole life. It was a strange thing for me to uproot my life like that. But, we liked it out there. However, the commute was terrible. The quiet and serene community made up for that. It was nice to come home to the quietness of the neighborhood. It also put us closer to the Delta where we liked to romp on our time off. The other nice thing? Our house was right next door to some very good friends that we met through the hospital. They lost their oldest child J at the age of 2-1/2 within that past year. That too was a very tough time in our lives. In the matter of 6 months we had lost 3 very dear people in our lives and with the adoption loss on top of all that - ugh.
My dh's mom was a nurse for a hospital up north of us. One night when she had called she was telling my dh how they were having a somewhat symposium on adoption. She thought maybe we'd like to attend and tell our story. At first we were reluctant but thought that maybe our story might help someone else doing international adoption.
When we arrived there were about 40 people there. We listened as people told their stories and such. My heart went out to those that hurt and a gladness for those that had wonderful stories.
~~~Before I go on you need to realize that this was the late 80's and it was not common for inter-racial domestic adoptions. Same goes for open adoptions. It was there, but very uncommon for the time. ~~~
Anyway - our turn came for telling our story. After telling our story someone asked us if it totally turned off our views to adoption. At first I was hesitant in answering but explained to them that although we were duped for money it's the child that matters. And we based our decision on the best interest of the child. Another question was posed as to whether we wanted to do another international adoption or if we wanted a domestic adoption. At this point I was getting a little heated because the questions were more towards "your white" "why would you want to adopt internationally". We explained that it didn't matter. I went on telling them that a child deserves to grow up with parents and some circumstances just don't allow that whether they be black, white, asian or hispanic. Nationality or color should never be an issue. A county worker stood up and told me that under no circumstances would inter-racial adoptions be allowed in her county and many other counties in the state (laws have changed since then). It was then that my dh stood up and said (and I do quote) "well lady, my wife is adopted and since there's no background on her nationality I'm telling you she's part african american. I dare you to prove her wrong". Although dh and I knew darn well that I was not part african american it made that lady stop and the puzzled look on her face was absolutely priceless. You could actually hear a pin drop in the room. I was so proud of my hubby.
The meeting was basically adjourned shortly thereafter. A lady from a private agency approached and handed us her card. She told us that she was touched by our story and asked if we'd send her our portfolio.
After careful consideration we decided to go ahead with it. It was been almost 2 years since the Columbian fiasco. So off went our portfolio. We received a call right after they received our portfolio. They explained that there was a child born 3 months prior. The birthmom was only 17 and was already caring for a 17 month old. She felt that just couldn't care for 2 children at that time. The agency explained that they would like to give the birthmom our portfolio along with 2 or 3 others. They then explained that the child was african american. A problem? No. We obliged and told them to go ahead with it. But to tell you the truth I did not want to get our hopes up. I knew I'd be strong enough for another disappointment, but just wasn't sure that I was ready for it.
It took about a week and we received a call on the following Wednesday. I will never forget the day. The social worker told me to sit down first and then proceeded to tell me that we were chosen and that we could pick up our son on that Friday. FRIDAY!!!! OMG, I about freaked. First, Friday was my 26th birthday. Second, the nursery was still packed away. The worker knew that we did not want to bring anything out until it was positively a go. Most women have 9 months to prepare. I had 2 DAYS!!!!!
My dh was outside visiting with some neighbors when I approached him and whispered in his ear that it's a boy and he'll be arriving Friday!!!! Feelings of joy, elation and happiness swept our neighborhood. I think my dh and I were still in disbelief. Maybe stunned is a better word. We never thought we'd see the day when we would be a family or more than 2 people.
That Thursday was the longest day of my life. Since everything we had was for a little girl, we went shopping to change the colors from pink and greens to blues and yellows. We set up the crib, washed all the bedding, clothes, bottles, etc. It took most of the day, but I think it was good for us to keep busy.
Friday morning finally came and I had to go into work for a couple of minutes for last minute details like my resignation and all - lol. While I was working out the details, my dh went out to get last minute things. We decided instead of coming directly home (because we were travelling an hour away) that we would stay Friday night at dh mom's house and then proceed up to my parent's ranch in the mountains (they bought this right after I married).
The time came and dh picked me up at work for our journey. We had Dixie (our dog) all packed and ready to go with us along with all the stuff needed for the baby. In all the excitement I totally forgot about my birthday and my hubby presented me with 2 dozen lavendar roses and a stuffed bear. He was so cute about it.
We dropped the dog off at dh's mom's house and journeyed to our destination. We picked up the social worker from her office and drove to the house, It was there that we met our son and his birthmom. "A" (our son) was the cutest baby I had ever seen. His smile just melted your heart. His birthmom "D" was a quiet, petite and gorgeous girl. She too melted my heart. We also had the opportunity to meet the foster parents that cared for "A" during the last 3 months. I have to tell you, I was scared to death and shaking inside. I wasn't sure what to say to "D". I wanted so much to reassure her and to let her know that I would make her proud. We talked and answered each other's questions. She was so soft spoken. I know this had to be the hardest day for her in her life. This was the first time that she had seen "A" since the day after he was born. After about an hour or 2 it was time to part our ways. We hugged and cried. I promised her there that "A" is and would remain the most loved and wanted child ever.
We had to take the social worker back to her office and my dh was driving while I was sitting in the back seat with "A" in his carseat just mesmorized. I just couldn't take my eyes off of him. DH and worker were chit chatting when dh almost sideswiped a car changing lanes (actually wasn't his fault - car was in blind spot). I thought OMG she's gonna think we're loons and take away the baby. It was then that the worker roller down her window and told the guy to ignore my dh because he's a new father. I had to laugh because she did have a sense of humor and keen understanding.
We went back to the office to sign the final papers and talk. The worker was having a hard time getting us to pay attention because we were playing with the baby. But she understood and was very patient with us. Since open adoption was not common it was decided earlier that we would send "D" pictures every 3 months for the first year. Then it would be up to "A" when he's 21. (I had that changed to 18).
Our first night proved to be interesting. "A" got sleep but dh and I just sat there and watched him all night. At that point we cried and promised "A" that we would be the best parents that we could be. That we would love him unconditionally and always make sure that he's happy, healthy and full aware of the wonderful woman who gave him life.
Now that "A" is 17, I await the day that he reunites with "D". I truly want "D" in his life and wish that open adoption would have been a choice at the time. "D" and her family will always be welcome in my home and heart. This woman sacrificed her feelings and entrusted us with the most precious memories that life has to offer. I have the uttmost respect and love for her.
"D" truly is my hero.
After the Columbian fiasco we decided to pack up the nursery (beautiful south american theme with bright colors) and try to pick up the pieces and go on with our lives. It was tough and not a single day went by that I didn't think about Kristina. I was literally tired physically, mentally and emotionally. I started to feel like God dealt me a zinger of a life. I was content with being adopted and had no issues with it, but just couldn't grasp the "whys" of EVERYTHING. At this time I had not reunited with my birthfamily and had no family with my dh (children). But I knew in my heart that there were reasons. In a way I find it amusing because I think it gave me strength in some odd way. Strength that I never knew I had.
We started anew by getting a new house out in the suburbs of the Bay Area. It was in a brand new up and coming development. I was really apprehensive about the move because I had lived in one area my whole life. It was a strange thing for me to uproot my life like that. But, we liked it out there. However, the commute was terrible. The quiet and serene community made up for that. It was nice to come home to the quietness of the neighborhood. It also put us closer to the Delta where we liked to romp on our time off. The other nice thing? Our house was right next door to some very good friends that we met through the hospital. They lost their oldest child J at the age of 2-1/2 within that past year. That too was a very tough time in our lives. In the matter of 6 months we had lost 3 very dear people in our lives and with the adoption loss on top of all that - ugh.
My dh's mom was a nurse for a hospital up north of us. One night when she had called she was telling my dh how they were having a somewhat symposium on adoption. She thought maybe we'd like to attend and tell our story. At first we were reluctant but thought that maybe our story might help someone else doing international adoption.
When we arrived there were about 40 people there. We listened as people told their stories and such. My heart went out to those that hurt and a gladness for those that had wonderful stories.
~~~Before I go on you need to realize that this was the late 80's and it was not common for inter-racial domestic adoptions. Same goes for open adoptions. It was there, but very uncommon for the time. ~~~
Anyway - our turn came for telling our story. After telling our story someone asked us if it totally turned off our views to adoption. At first I was hesitant in answering but explained to them that although we were duped for money it's the child that matters. And we based our decision on the best interest of the child. Another question was posed as to whether we wanted to do another international adoption or if we wanted a domestic adoption. At this point I was getting a little heated because the questions were more towards "your white" "why would you want to adopt internationally". We explained that it didn't matter. I went on telling them that a child deserves to grow up with parents and some circumstances just don't allow that whether they be black, white, asian or hispanic. Nationality or color should never be an issue. A county worker stood up and told me that under no circumstances would inter-racial adoptions be allowed in her county and many other counties in the state (laws have changed since then). It was then that my dh stood up and said (and I do quote) "well lady, my wife is adopted and since there's no background on her nationality I'm telling you she's part african american. I dare you to prove her wrong". Although dh and I knew darn well that I was not part african american it made that lady stop and the puzzled look on her face was absolutely priceless. You could actually hear a pin drop in the room. I was so proud of my hubby.
The meeting was basically adjourned shortly thereafter. A lady from a private agency approached and handed us her card. She told us that she was touched by our story and asked if we'd send her our portfolio.
After careful consideration we decided to go ahead with it. It was been almost 2 years since the Columbian fiasco. So off went our portfolio. We received a call right after they received our portfolio. They explained that there was a child born 3 months prior. The birthmom was only 17 and was already caring for a 17 month old. She felt that just couldn't care for 2 children at that time. The agency explained that they would like to give the birthmom our portfolio along with 2 or 3 others. They then explained that the child was african american. A problem? No. We obliged and told them to go ahead with it. But to tell you the truth I did not want to get our hopes up. I knew I'd be strong enough for another disappointment, but just wasn't sure that I was ready for it.
It took about a week and we received a call on the following Wednesday. I will never forget the day. The social worker told me to sit down first and then proceeded to tell me that we were chosen and that we could pick up our son on that Friday. FRIDAY!!!! OMG, I about freaked. First, Friday was my 26th birthday. Second, the nursery was still packed away. The worker knew that we did not want to bring anything out until it was positively a go. Most women have 9 months to prepare. I had 2 DAYS!!!!!
My dh was outside visiting with some neighbors when I approached him and whispered in his ear that it's a boy and he'll be arriving Friday!!!! Feelings of joy, elation and happiness swept our neighborhood. I think my dh and I were still in disbelief. Maybe stunned is a better word. We never thought we'd see the day when we would be a family or more than 2 people.
That Thursday was the longest day of my life. Since everything we had was for a little girl, we went shopping to change the colors from pink and greens to blues and yellows. We set up the crib, washed all the bedding, clothes, bottles, etc. It took most of the day, but I think it was good for us to keep busy.
Friday morning finally came and I had to go into work for a couple of minutes for last minute details like my resignation and all - lol. While I was working out the details, my dh went out to get last minute things. We decided instead of coming directly home (because we were travelling an hour away) that we would stay Friday night at dh mom's house and then proceed up to my parent's ranch in the mountains (they bought this right after I married).
The time came and dh picked me up at work for our journey. We had Dixie (our dog) all packed and ready to go with us along with all the stuff needed for the baby. In all the excitement I totally forgot about my birthday and my hubby presented me with 2 dozen lavendar roses and a stuffed bear. He was so cute about it.
We dropped the dog off at dh's mom's house and journeyed to our destination. We picked up the social worker from her office and drove to the house, It was there that we met our son and his birthmom. "A" (our son) was the cutest baby I had ever seen. His smile just melted your heart. His birthmom "D" was a quiet, petite and gorgeous girl. She too melted my heart. We also had the opportunity to meet the foster parents that cared for "A" during the last 3 months. I have to tell you, I was scared to death and shaking inside. I wasn't sure what to say to "D". I wanted so much to reassure her and to let her know that I would make her proud. We talked and answered each other's questions. She was so soft spoken. I know this had to be the hardest day for her in her life. This was the first time that she had seen "A" since the day after he was born. After about an hour or 2 it was time to part our ways. We hugged and cried. I promised her there that "A" is and would remain the most loved and wanted child ever.
We had to take the social worker back to her office and my dh was driving while I was sitting in the back seat with "A" in his carseat just mesmorized. I just couldn't take my eyes off of him. DH and worker were chit chatting when dh almost sideswiped a car changing lanes (actually wasn't his fault - car was in blind spot). I thought OMG she's gonna think we're loons and take away the baby. It was then that the worker roller down her window and told the guy to ignore my dh because he's a new father. I had to laugh because she did have a sense of humor and keen understanding.
We went back to the office to sign the final papers and talk. The worker was having a hard time getting us to pay attention because we were playing with the baby. But she understood and was very patient with us. Since open adoption was not common it was decided earlier that we would send "D" pictures every 3 months for the first year. Then it would be up to "A" when he's 21. (I had that changed to 18).
Our first night proved to be interesting. "A" got sleep but dh and I just sat there and watched him all night. At that point we cried and promised "A" that we would be the best parents that we could be. That we would love him unconditionally and always make sure that he's happy, healthy and full aware of the wonderful woman who gave him life.
Now that "A" is 17, I await the day that he reunites with "D". I truly want "D" in his life and wish that open adoption would have been a choice at the time. "D" and her family will always be welcome in my home and heart. This woman sacrificed her feelings and entrusted us with the most precious memories that life has to offer. I have the uttmost respect and love for her.
"D" truly is my hero.
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