a sign.

Many people have asked if our adoption is open or they just assume it is because I document my updates to Mama L. Either is fine but I write to her as if I know her. as if she IS apart of our life… because her daughter is.

Today is International Women’s Day. I have seen so many posts regarding Girl Power, Unity, Rights and Strength of women and my first thought was a brave women; Mama L. Every time I think of her or write to her, I ask for a sign from God about her wellbeing. A few months ago that sign came from a Facebook post where she shared a picture of Brooklyn I sent her in an update (blogged in this post: A Hidden Emotion). Seeing that made me feel proud and it made me feel comforted. Don’t get me wrong it definitely caught me off guard but I was able to sit back and truly recognize and distinguish how it made me feel. Because today is International Women’s Day I wanted to post something to recognize the day and recognize the woman who blessed us with Brooklyn.

As I was driving home this morning from dropping my son off at school, I decided to take a different route than usual. I hit the light right when the left protected arrow turned red so I didn’t feel like waiting (yes, I can be pretty impatient). The whole way home I was trying to think of a way I could honor her without posting a picture of her (which I don’t have very many). I look over to my right and I see a women standing on the side of the street. My stomach dropped. I slowed down to get a better look and I immediately held my breath.

legs went numb.

thoughts flooded my brain.

It was her.

Mama L.

Standing right there. 3 duffle bags in tow. Waiting. Waiting for something. Waiting for someone.

I immediately turned around because I needed confirmation. Was this my sign I’ve prayed for?

She has some distinct features that one can recognize a mile away and I saw them or at least I thought I did or did I want to see them? As I was completing my double back, she climbed into a car and we drove separate directions.

I know that it was her.

I feel that it was her.

I asked for her.

I prayed for a sign from her.

Obviously I do not know the specifics of her life, where she was going, what she was doing… and I worry about her.

At that moment bk’s life flashed before my eyes- the birth, the first feeding, our first outing. I know how Brooklyn is doing, where she is, her happiness, her giggles, her cries, her needs… because of Mama L.

Because of her brave decision, I do not have to worry about Brooklyn and SHE doesn’t have to worry about her daughter either.

“a child born to another women calls me mommy. the magnitude of that tragedy & depth of that privilege are not lost on me.”

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be brave.

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added pressure.

 

With a biological child, you make certain promises to yourself as a parent to be how you plan to raise your little one. When you get matched with an expectant mom you give promises to her that you will raise the child to the best of your ability. In both scenarios you use the frequent vow “I will never…” until you realize that you are now saying, “oh I absolutely will.” As a recent adoptive mother, I can’t help but put extra pressure on myself that I have to go above and beyond those expectations or promises that I gave Brooklyn’s birth mom. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to give them to her verbally as our time together was extremely limited but I gave them to her through our profile book. Through our words, our pictures of our family and our home, we presented and promised Mama L that we would love and provide for Brooklyn; I wanted to promise the world and more. The weight and significance of these obligations are heavy, for me, because of adoption. The pressure that comes with adoption because you want to be more than a good parent, more than a friend, more than a confidant. Unnecessary, maybe. But they are real expectations that I have placed upon myself and I strive to live by. The pressure can be so intense that at times I don’t raise my children the same because I can’t let someone else down, that someone else being another mother, Brooklyn’s birth mother. I have this personal expectation to raise Brooklyn in this perfect world, that doesn’t exist, that isn’t realistic. I know I can’t guard her or protect from all negtivity in the world but I have the extra expectation that I can, I should, I will. It’s almost like I put an extra set of eyes on me, just as if Mama L is watching.

Over the holidays is when I felt this intense stress from expectations that I am speaking of. Christmas vacation was chaos, it was tough. It wasn’t the Christmas I dreamt of as our first as a family of four or for Brooklyn’s first Christmas (those milestones alone come with their own set of expectations.) I just kept thinking to myself, “this isn’t what I promised Mama L.” The weight was heavy. It was suffocating. It was powerful. It was exhausting. I cried. I hugged her close. I prayed. I expressed my worries to my husband and to a friend.  

Why do I do this to myself?

Why do I add such unnecessary pressure?

Am I the only one who does this?

Both of my kids are my kids, adopted or biological, doesn’t matter. I know that and I live that. Why doesn’t this pressure exist as if my husbands eyes were the eyes over my shoulder while I parent either of our kids?

Putting this pressure on myself isn’t fair and I realize that now. I had to go through that motherhood meltdown to discover it on my own and that is what is going to make me a better mom; the mom I promised Brooklyn’s birth mom, the mom I promised Beckett. I promised both my kids I’ll be the best person I can be to them, to their father, to their peers. I will forever provide love but I will also provide mistakes that will turn to lessons.

Moms… dads… take off this pressure if you can relate to this. Adoption or biological. Take off the pressure to be the perfect parent with the perfect home, the perfect holiday, the perfect adventure. Let life flow, embrace the chaos, endure the trials, and make the best out of all experiences life brings us. It’s not always going to be easy, it’s not always going to be glorified perfect, but these are the experiences that built our families and make us stronger together.

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Adoption from an Adoptee.

Adoption Awareness Month was the month of November and it did just that… made me entirely more aware of the total three sided adoption triad. I was privileged to read stories from birth mothers sharing their views on their choice to place and all their emotions both immediately following and months even years passed placement. I watched videos made by adoptee’s regarding their personal views of their adoptions. I was blessed to watch friends become parents through adoption for the first time after years of struggling. To see all the different angles of adoption, vulnerability with the aftermath of choices that were made, and to feel the warm and even the hurt was truly inspiring. Through all these vulnerable stories shared, I was filled with overwhelming emotions. The most surprising emotions came from the adoptee aspect. See, I have occupied one side of the adoption triad for 32 years as an adoptee since birth. I have never really put much thought into my adoption except for the common questions about my biological parents and personal demographics and ethnicity. Not because I wasn’t heavily impacted but probably because I never knew any different.

My parents (yes, my adoptive ones) struggled with conceiving naturally after many years of trying due to endometriosis. My sister was also adopted at birth and we have never really known differently. It has been our story from the beginning; a conversation always open to have. Questions were (and still are) encouraged and welcomed. Biological information was limited as both of our adoptions were private and closed but I always knew that when the time came I was motivated to reach out and seek further details.

Adoption, to me, goes beyond where I came from but who I allow myself to become. Adoption does not define me but my experiences and outlook does. Throughout the years, my placement has helped me find my own identity; who I really am outside the label of an “adoptee”; outside my ethnicity; outside of my roots. Identity doesn’t only mean your ethnicity or race or what you were born with or without. It means you find where you belong. You can develop your own character filled with your own opinions, beliefs, likes and dislikes. Discovering what makes you unique and distinct can truly make you shine and excel as your life unfolds.

I remember reading in a Facebook group coming from an adoptee saying her adoption took things away from her. Made her invisible; unknown. I wanted to reach through the screen and hug this person. To have such a weight, such a burden, seems heavy and dark. I was asked in a different forum about “being an adoptee” and if I felt lost or disconnected; if I held blame to my biological parent for making their choice of placement. I was proud to really dissect these questions because I knew that I didn’t come from a place of isolation or even sadness. I will always be proud of my birth mom but it wasn’t until recently that I attempted to see through the eyes of a birth mom. Turning my gratitude into thoughts of courage and bravery.

Growing up an adoptee I have been able to find my own peace and comfort with the adoption. I ask questions and equally so do my parents. We lean and learn about each other and our individual needs. Never before did I see the the worry of bonding until I became an adoptive mom. The phrases my parents feared we’d speak, scare me to death envisioning it can be toward myself. As a family, we light heartedly dream together about what my biological parents look like and what they enjoy in life based on certain attributes I possess. My parents have never given me glorified stories about my placement. It’s been real, raw detail and emotion. Since the adoption has been a developmentally appropriate, ongoing, open conversation in my family, I have found comfort and even joy. I am proud to be an adoptee. I am proud to be an adoptive parent. No doubt have I had negative emotions regarding my placement or where I come from, but I was taught that I am ultimately responsible for my own happiness, no matter where I come from. And that, that brings me peace and comfort.

Now, as an adoptive mom as well as an adoptee, I am privileged to explore the depth of my adoption and how it can and will impact the way I raise Brooklyn. I have a unique bond with her that I do not posses with Beckett, but isn’t that the case in any household with multiple family members? No two relationships are alike especially when it involves parents and children.

As I sit back, feel, ponder, type and delete repeatedly trying to jot down everything going on in my brain, I clearly see that the way I raise Brooklyn won’t be much different as I raise my biological son. I am empowered to carry on the open conversation concept of adoption as an adoptee within my family as I raise my children to the best of my ability. That is what I promised both of them as they entered this world.

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FEATURED ON KINDRED + CO.

 

on our way to finalization.

we took a trip to the happiest place on earth as a family of four. we had no idea bk would be apart of this trip when originally planned. there was no question as to if we’d cancel the trip since adding her to our family. we had looked forward to this trip and thankfully we pushed forward. what an amazing trip we had!

while on the trip i knew a deadline was approaching. birth parents right severance. to be in the Happiest Place on Earth and to meet this milestone was…

confusing.

bittersweet.

for the past 60 days we had a weight on our shoulders. an elephant on our chest. a storm cloud hovering over our heads.

this wait was over. oct 25th 2016.

before i started writing this post, i had read the document with mama L signature giving up full rights and irrevocable complete control of bk. when i got the text after 72 hours that she had signed, it meant something to me, it hit me. when just now reading it on paper and seeing her signed initials, her actual signature…. it hit me again.

differently.

emotions like these surprise me.

the pain + the comfort + the relief + the sadness + the excitement.

the most specific detail that has caught me off guard is her handwriting. to me, hand script can say a lot about someone. it can reveal truths or insecurities. i always wondered how she signed her name. did she use her full name or just initials? was it in cursive? all caps or small print? flowy or chicken scratch? these types of details all exposed on these documents as we move forward with finalization. i felt confidence in her signature. it seemed bold yet heavy. still can’t imagine what was going through her mind while she signed these papers. makes me take long, deep breaths thinking about it.

handwriting is one thing i miss most about my own mom. i don’t have much that documented my mom’s beautiful, thin, long cursive and we don’t have much that documents mama L’s, but it’s something to show bk when she is ready bc mama L’s handwriting is beautiful, just like her.

this is also why it’s so important for me to take the time and hand write out bk’s monthly update for mama L. i want her to see my feelings through my writing. i want her to feel that brooklyn is loved. she is wanted. she was longed for. she is safe. she is happy. she is secure. she is flourishing. i want her to trust through my writings that her decision will forever be life altering.

finding peace as we move forward. embracing the unexpected emotions that keep surprising me.

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be brave.

 

everyday brave.

it was just after the 70 day NICU stay with our 29-weeker son, beckett, that i started dreaming of making my own apparel for my little dude who was finally of size to wear real newborn clothes. i mentioned the idea of a screen press to my husband but he wasn’t so on board at the time. we had a lot on our plate. a preemie, a potential big move out of state leaving our friends and family behind. “can’t you imagine all the things i could make and not have to buy!?” so many what if’s to just jump off the deep end into that type of dream.

so, for the time being i was just a purchaser, not a pursuer.

once we entered the adoption world i was finding myself with hands that needed to get busy. the wait was hard. the wait was long. hearing the “no’s” one right after the other was heartbreaking. i was finding myself living for email notifications hoping to see situations, wondering if “this is our baby.” we presented our family to four adoption plans, repeatedly hearing we were not the chosen family. some of those no’s were right away, some took weeks. the most recent expectant mom we presented to, i told myself and my husband that if we weren’t picked again i NEEDED to find something for me to occupy my time & my mind… and that was to start the online shop.

well.

we heard our (last) no.

time to execute. time to continue the research. time to brainstorm.

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michael was on amazon… a lot… comparing reviews, price checking equipment, and investigating what we needed to get started. we were both losing sleep on the logistics.

equipment ordered.

shipped.

arrived.

i always have these shirt & design ideas flowing in my head but now that it’s GO time… printers block. so the boxes stayed unopened. piling in the hall. the problem with having A.D.D. is collecting my thoughts and struggling to figure out how/where to get started.

then BAM!

another situation.

we got bk’s situation just 1 day before hearing our last “no.” we presented to mama L knowing very little background information on pregnancy and birth parents. neither one of us feeling very hopeful. how could we? why would we? with this presentation i told myself that i wasn’t going to ask questions. up to this point, i knew every possible detail about each time we presented.

i knew how many families were presenting.

i knew when profiles were being presented.

i constinuously inquired when we “should” expect to hear the expectant mom’s decision.

i stalked my emails. i obsessed over texts.

all these details killed me. knowing, was draining. it made the wait that much more intense. that much longer. so. i truly left this situation in God’s hands. i didn’t hammer the agency with a billion questions. keep in mind, we were brand new to this local agency. i didn’t know how they operated, as i learned each agency runs things a lot differently. i got a call from the agency letting me know that our paperwork was received and we were officially registered to start seeing situations. at the end of that call, she quickly added, “oh by the way, i’ll be emailing you a situation later this afternoon.”

from there i prayed. i hoped. i turned over my focus.

a few days later, i got the call. “mama L has chosen your family for her little girl!”

ha! “book a trip, they say”… or in this case… “start a business, they say.”…

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we are still hammering out the details, the ideas, the designs, the types of products we want to offer but i do know where i want to channel my focus:

ADOPTION. i want to help those on their adoption journey by providing fundraising opportunities and life affirmations. i want to inspire and educate those outside of the adoption community. i want to tie in being an adoptee with our personal growth through adoption.

BRAVERY. everyday bravery. being brave comes in many forms and through many outlets. moms. kids. in your home. at school.

everyday bravery has shown in my life when we made a big move from my home state, during my prime teenager years then shortly having my house burn down after recently moving in. i had to be brave when struggling with a learning disability (A.D.D.), hashimotos, tragically losing my mother at the age of 16, and never getting the opportunity to meet and love on my nephew, Austin, who was born at 25 weeks gestation.  i’ve had to be brave when my son was born 11.5 weeks early then shortly i was diagnosed with an extremely rare autoimmune. i had to be brave when i was told my life expectancy was unknown and if i were to carry we could lose both myself and the baby. i had to be brave when we entered the adoption journey on a quest to find our missing puzzle piece.

 

i have used the cactus symbol (and donuts) throughout our adoption with no real significance in the beginning. i had an envision that i was going to incorporate an icon for the state that resembled where our baby was going to come from. in this case she was in arizona so naturally a cactus. it’s truly incredible how one symlbol has turned into a reminder to others about our adoption and about bk. i get calls, personalized gifts, tags on instagram, and daily screen shots of cactus products just to inform me people are thinking of us. the same follows suit with the term ‘be brave’. it’s comforting, inspiring, and kind of a lot of pressure (wink, wink) for me to know that people associate me with bravery. so this is where we started.

we plan to start with our instagram-everyday brave. then move up from there. eeeeek, join the ride with us and stay tuned!

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be brave.

 

fresh 48.

the following 48 hours were a dream filled with skin to skin, hundreds of newborn pictures, counting milk oz, plenty of poopy diapers, hearing test, carseat test (since she was premature), and lots lots of bonding. the amazing hospital staff at Arrowhead were so incredibly accommodating + supportive of the adoption plan. I was fortunate enough to get a room to stay full time with bk until discharge. they came to check on us a few times a shift but gave us privacy to bond. mama L gave me a wrist band, similar to the one that the other parent gets. I could bathe her, take her to nursery, feed and change her as I had given birth to her. to be honest, this part of the adoption journey wasn’t ever really thought of. i never really imagined what would happen post birth, maybe bc i wasn’t sure we’d ever make it this far.

I couldn’t wait for michael to arrive that morning to meet his daughter. our dear friend kaily had come early to watch beckett so we could do this ourselves. i met him in the hallway in front of the elevator with her in her crib. we were the first things he saw when the elevator doors opened. he was smiling ear to ear and he still hadn’t seen her in person. in the adoption world, many fathers (and mothers) fear the bonding process of their adopted baby. will it happen naturally? will it be similar to their biological child? as we started walking down the hallway, pushing her crib to our room, he had so much pep in his step and confidence in his voice. we barely step in the room and he was ready to hold her. no hesitation. no fear. no anxiety. those emotions probably existed on the drive over but you could see those were left at the elevator.

i want to forever remember the way he looked at her for the first time. the way he held her. watching him sink into the bed as she sunk into him. both their breaths calm. so natural. so much love.

 

i never want to forget the way he checked out every single feature of hers; the wrinkles and creases on her feet + her ear lobes + her nose + her pouting lips + her long fingers + her freshly cut umbilical cord + her dark thick hair + almond shaped eyes. these features change so quickly, day to day, week to week. i took so many pictures bc i never want to forget. this moment was incredible; this journey can never be repeated.

 

beckett got to meet his baby sister in the hospital later that afternoon. i went back and forth with this because so much could still happen at this point and bk was not yet our daughter. the main reason we went ahead and included beckett in this part was bc if/when everything goes according to the adoption plan, we did not want to miss any opportunities to write her story. the hospital was a new place for beckett both in an exciting way and confusing way. i remember i could hear him coming down the hallway, then when he slammed opened the door he bolted to her crib, saying “HI BABY SISTER!” his voice definitely didn’t match his actions. he was scared to be near her, resistant to touching her and we were okay with that. he is on his term, moves slowly, and warms up when he is ready. he was both eager to leave but wanted to stay. he didn’t understand why mommy had to stay. we did our best at explaining each step of the way just in case something clicked for him.

 

the fresh 48 was all so perfect. to have a newborn with no leads, no oxygen tubes, no beeping monitors, no feeding tubes, no IV’s, no neighbors 3 feet away surrounding you watching you, wondering what your story is. no one to tell us we couldn’t hold our baby today. no one to tell us that we had to put our baby back bc it was overstimulated. we had privacy. time together. help was there if we needed but the hospital staff truly let me be her parent.

 

the bonding came easy but still with a little hesitation in the back of my head and heart. bk was not yet ours. she was mama L’s. i wanted to give her ALL my love but i was so guarded knowing this could all crumble as i’ve seen it happen to close ones in the adoption community. i wanted to be realistic. i wanted to play it safe, but she made my heart explode in a million pieces, a million different waysmy best friend back home advised me to let it all out. all the love, the tears of joy, the tears of pain for mama L… to truly FEEL each of these minutes as i will never get them back regardless of how this may all end. i had to keep faith, trust God, that this was our baby. He lead us to her. He led her to us. i recalled all those nights of prayers and pleas to grow our family. He heard them all. He heard all of us. i still pray for mama L. i pray for the story i know. i pray for her other children. i pray for her safety. i pray that she finds joy and love in the updates we send each month. i pray she feels the same love for herself through the pictures because brooklyn is a direct line to her no matter papers signed or last name.

i knew the time at the hospital was going to end. i had no idea what we were yet to face. since discharge was after 48 hours of birth, mama L could not sign consent until 72 hours so sweet brooklyn was discharged to a cradle caregiver through the agency who took her into her home until papers were signed. it definitely was not my first choice of how the fresh 48 hours would end but i tried to look at this with positive light. this would be a good time to spend as a family of three one last time. give beckett a breather since everything happened so so so fast. let his little mind settle and his heart expand. of course it all worked out. nicole, the temporary caregiver, sent me pictures throughout that night with bk and all her family members pitching in to love on her. my mind and heart were at ease. we had about 1 months of paperwork to plow through as well before the morning and it needed to get done before we could take bk home with us.

the biggest thing on my mind that night was mama L. would she sign? did she have hesitations or reservations? did she feel more confident after meeting me?

to be continued…

be brave.

 

 

8.14.2016

since when did a month prep happen just within days? well that is how our birth story unfolded. as most of you know we matched with mama L on a tuesday, that following thursday we were invited and excited to meet her and attend the future prenatal appointments.

on saturday, august 13th, i had some mama time as we had a rough friday attempting to potty train a non-ready toddler. i headed to get a much needed pedicure and manicure. i had been contemplating on whether i should go get a few preemie outfits since we were told that there was slight UGR (uterine growth restriction) so it was unlikely she go to term. michael had told me to hold off a little bit but if you know me, i won’t rest until i feel ready (wait, is it even possible to feel ready for something like this?!) so, off i went to carters to grab a few preemie onesies for baby girl JUST IN CASE and i promised to keep the tags on them. i was shocked on how little section there was for preemies. i guess i never realized that when we had beckett early bc most of his small days were spent in the nicu and had leads coming out from every hole possible. then we got discharged and our tiny miracle had turn into an almost 8 lb newborn! i wish parents had more options for smaller babies so they, we, can be just as excited to shop all the options and picture them in cute outfits. anyways, after i let my emotions take over for a little bit i headed to grab michael and i starbucks drinks before heading home to my boys. while i was waiting for my iced 3 pump vanilla latte macchiato and his same with coconut milk, i was stopped by a girl to congratulate me on being “paper pregnant!” i quickly remembered that i was wearing a shirt that was gifted to me anonymously when we started the adoption journey. she was embarrassed to jump out at me but it isn’t everyday you can connect with a stranger on this level so it was great for her to say hi. she was also paper pregnant and waiting to her baby girl from China! these are the small instances in the adoption community that i love to connect with. it was so great to hear “congratulations” but it was still so very surreal to me. i had a very guarded heart.Image

5:00 pm: i am pulling into my garage after stopping off a target for groceries for dinner and i see our case worker’s name pop up. my heart SINKS into the ground and then jumps back up into my throat. i quickly answer and first thing i say is “will there ever be a time that my heart doesn’t stop when i see your name?” she quickly tells me in an exciting voice, to start packing our hospital bags bc mama L water broke!

wait.

what?

yup! mama L was on her way to the hospital to check into triage and we were to prepare for baby girl to come potentially any minute!

SEE! i told you it was a good idea for me to grab a few preemie onesies! ha!

i run into the house and quickly try to reiterate everything that was told to me but i couldn’t even remember a thing.

except, to pack.

my fellow adoption friend cari had prepared me for this bc of her personal experience but i didn’t take her warning seriously as i STILL didn’t believe this was actually happening. she had already sent me a list for the hospital bag, the baby bag. um, but where did i put that list? what type of bag do i pack? what do i bring? will i just be there a couple hours? a few days? do i leave my bag in the car? how awkward and weird is it to walk into your expectant moms hospital room with a bag in tow saying, HEY! I’M HERE! i had never met her before! how was it going to go? do i hug her or shake her hand? do i introduce myself? no, she knows who i am. remember kira, she PICKED US! what are the do’s and dont’s? how involve does she want me? or us? we haven’t had the time to chat and figure out any details at all. i immediate text, casey, our consultant at CAC, asking her to brief me! do i bring flowers? i legitimately go into pure panic mode! can michael come with me? i can’t do this alone. what do we do with beckett? do we explain what is going on? where is my phone charger? don’t forget your camera. wait, can i even use my camera? oh gosh, i stink. i need to shower. oh and dinner, we all need to eat dinner. i walk into the kitchen after pacing our bed room 50000000 times and my amazing husband is making dinner for all three of us as i tend to my “go mode tornado” mindset.

THANKS BABE!

i spent the rest of the evening trying to organize myself and my thoughts and trying not to pace around like a nervous crazy person. i am on and off the phone with local friends trying to figure out a plan for beckett for that night and the days ahead. i am texting a million people trying to update and ask for advice. so many people were willing to step up and help us out. it was truly incredible!

ok, my medium-not-too-big-not-too-small-bag was packed, belly full, clean hair & body… I’m “ready!”

michael and i had decided it was best for beckett if he came in the morning so our loving friend kaily was set up to show up early the next day to play with b so michael could come meet me.

i keep checking my phone wondering if i was going to get the call to come tonight… or would do i just go to bed bc who knows, maybe they’ll just monitor her.

hurry up to wait.

10:04 pm a different case worker calls me. of course our assigned case worker was sick so she couldn’t make it to the hospital to be with us. which i was PANICKED about but gosh, i wouldn’t have had it any other way when all said and done. she tells me to get in the car, its time. a few minutes later, i get another call, her voice very low whisper saying “get here quick, this is happening fast!”

i flew off the couch, kissed michael, hopped into the car… i. was. out!

the hospital was about 20 minutes away but i made it there in about 14 (oops!).

I decide to call my bffe on the way there so i could attempt to distract myself or freak out with someone bc this was REALLY happening. so much still to happen, so much still can go wrong, so much still can go so right.

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I’m at the hospital, time to hang up. i text the case worker that i am at the hospital. i run into an unknown place trying to navigate my way through with a huge lump in my throat. i find the elevator. head up to the second floor, labor and delivery. no one in sight.

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a small hidden voice appears from the nurses station. the nurse at the desk looks at me and asks if i am lost. yes. yes i am lost. she asks if she can help me find someone but i stutter all my words into one and am literally making no sense. who am i looking for? i don’t know mama’s last name. i don’t even know the case workers last name. so i just stand there frozen and text the case worker. she tells me she is will me in lobby shortly.

hurry up to wait.

shortly turned into what seemed like 4 hours. i still am not sure how long i waited. would she know who i am if she saw me? was she going to wait with me? was she going to take me back to meet mama L? was i supposed to be apart of this? or do i just get comfy in this large waiting room with the other families waiting for their babes to arrive?

i felt so alone. i mean i was alone. husband was at home. family is all in another state. case worker was with mama L. i just sat there alone. i was cold yet sweating profusely. i keep checking my fitbit to see if it was actually tracking my insane pulse rate. it wasn’t of course. my bffe then text me asking for a selfie. so i sent her one. well played distraction, friend.

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waiting to be a mama again.

“mama L is getting her epidural, i will come meet you while that happens, then we can go back to be with her until baby comes.”still waiting. still alone. now i have to pee. of course. i run into the restroom bc I’m so scared i will miss the case worker who was on her way to meet me in the lobby. thankfully, i did not miss her, or should i say them. i haven’t been that happy to see someone in a long time. someone to talk me through this. someone who knows what they are doing bc i have no idea whats happening, what could happen, or what i am about to walk into. i finally got to meet two ladies who i will never forget. two ladies who were about to enter a whole new world with me. they were going to hold my hand, laugh with me, cry with me, encourage me, guide me. they both share with me how eventful and intense the night had already been with mama L. they weren’t sure if she was even going to make it out of triage before delivering the baby.

aside from the adoption part being totally foreign to me let me remind you that i didn’t not get this labor and delivery experience with beckett. this was ALL new to me. real contractions. real pain. i had no idea what to expect. will mama L like me? what will we talk about while we wait? how long will we wait? what can i do for her? what does she need from me?

nurse comes to the lobby to get us.

it was time to go meet mama L.

i sent a quick text to michael, grabbed my bag, took a huge deep breathe… here we go.

on the way down the winding, quiet, cold, hallways, our case workers are quickly informing me of my roles, per say. mama L wants me to be involved with the entire labor & delivery. she wants me to hold her leg. cut the cord. be with baby girl in the nursery. all of this can change at a moments notice. i know that, i am prepared for that.

12:10 am. we knock on the door and enter quietly. i make both case workers go before me. before we cross over, around the closed curtain, i can hear baby girls heart beating loud and rapid on the monitor. that was our baby’s heart beat.

(insert full body chills as i relive this right now.)

there she was. there was mama L sleeping. they attempt to wake her up but bc of her eventful evening leading up to this point she was out cold. i walk up to her bed side, holding my arms tight around my body, i lean over and introduce myself to her. she opens her eyes and tells me how nice it is to meet me before going back to sleep.

hurry up to wait.

although the room was filled with silence aside from baby girls heartbeat, there was a lot of personality to pass the time.  the nerves were broken bc we were all freezing. mama L had 4 blankets piled on her. each case worker and myself were bundled up with our own. people always say prepare for a cold room… no. this was freezing. the gauge was broken and it was an arctic tundra in there. while we sit and wait, one of the case workers is explaining the contraction monitor to me- “see, it looks like Sedona right now and we need it to look like Flagstaff.” mama L’s contractions had majorly tapered off bc she had received the epidural and she wasn’t moving around to keep the body in active labor.

hurry up to wait.

1:55 am. mama L starts feeling really uncomfortable. she keeps trying to move around, starts to complain and then begins to beg the nurse to remove the monitor as she is experiencing really bad pain. she tries to move her bed up in a recline position and screams! the nurse lowers and the bed and looks at all of us…. “its time to have this baby!”

mama L’s eyes open wide and she looks over at us and says “lets get this family their baby girl.”

(more full body goosebumps as i type this out).

immediately, loads up people are starting to shuffle into the room, into place. NICU team shows up bc baby girl is at 36 weeks. nurses wheeling in equipment. prep time was fast and intense.

doctor arrives with a big smile on his face! asks if she’s ready, and she excitingly says YES! he then asks her a list of questions:

“who do you want involved with delivery?”

“her mother,” she replied.

“who do you want to cut the cord?”

“her mother,” she replied.

“who do you want to hold her first?”

“her mother,” she replied.

“where do you want the baby to go afterward?”

“the nursery with her mother,” she replied.

everyone looks at me. i look at her. i tell her i have never done anything like this before. i thank her for including me in all of this. she tells me that i am courageous and brave for doing this and i had to stop her and reassure her that she was the brave one. she was the courageous one. she was the selfless one.

doctor interrupted us, told me to grab her leg (i literally left nail indents in her leg by the way). it was time. baby girl was already forcing her way out. within the next 20ish seconds, baby girl was born. 2:07 am.

 

seeing our baby girl born was breathtaking. cutting the cord was incredible. being apart of this moment was unimaginedble. I’m quickly lead to go meet baby girl for the very first time. i got to weigh her, 6 pounds 7.4 ounces. i got to see her get measured, 17.5 inches long. i was able to witness her first footprints getting stamped.

it was because of mama L,i got to experience EVERYTHING.

it was because of this brave women, my entire life had completed changed forever.

its a balancing act between equal time with mama L and baby. too much time with baby may come across as baby driven leaving mama feeling neglected. too much time with mama can come across as not interested in baby. each move made came with a thought process. it moved naturally but also strategically. i needed both of them to know and feel my love and appreciation.

I made my way back to mama L’s bedside. she looks up at me and immediately asks, “so, what are you going to name your daughter?” i look back at her and tell her we want to honor her and involved her so if she had a name picked out to let me know so we can incorporate both families. she then tells me her brother mentioned “Jocelyn” in the past but it never stuck to her. She then tells me that we should name her since we will be giving her the life to live up to her name. i then move forward with how we came up with brooklyn kay and the story behind her name choice. with tears filled in her eyes, she replies with “thats dope.” we both giggled. later i find out that she knew god had sent us to her but what solidified it was that we had chosen a name ending in -lyn which was the only part of Jocelyn she liked when her brother brought up that name. she told them, we were meant to be her parents.

i thanked her again for blessing our family. i reassured her that if she wanted to see the baby or myself while at the hospital to let the nurses know and they’ll come get us. she then asked, “have you held your daughter yet?” and i had said no, she then touched my lower back and gently pushed me away while saying “well then go hold her!” i gave her a tight hug and followed the delivery team to the nursery.

be brave.