February 13, 2013

I woke up that morning in the hotel half way from baby boy’s city. I planned to head down and stay with a friend of mine from college as she lived just 20 minutes from the hospital. God provided that connection as well. We had not spoken or kept in touch since college and when a mutual friend found out that we were going to be in her town she reconnected us. My friend, B was such a great host. She was so kind and so generous. It was a huge blessing to be able to stay in a beautiful, cozy home. And it was a huge blessing to be able to reconnect and catch up with this sweet friend. Just another way God provided and showed us he was in control of every detail.

So, on the way to B’s house I got a call that baby boy’s birth mother, T, was having contractions and had been admitted to the hospital.  So, I rerouted the GPS and headed straight to the hospital. Being new to the whole adoption world, I bombarded my social worker with a thousand questions about the process from here and how to handle myself in the hospital.

I was informed that T had decided not to meet me. She had originally said she did want to meet and then changed her mind. I have to admit I was both sad and relieved that she no longer wanted to meet. I did desperately desire to see her and thank her and speak into her life even for a brief moment, but I will admit that was scary to me. So I simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and disappointment.

On the last few hour stretch before arriving at the hospital I was in constant correspondence with the social worker and consultant. I got a call saying that T has changed her mind again and decided that she did want to meet. So I was instructed to go to the hospital and walk back to her delivery room. 

I stopped to get her some flowers, forgetting that it was the day before Valentine’s Day, so everywhere I went was a mad house of people buying flowers. I picked out some beautiful peach roses and headed on my way. I got to the hospital and stopped at the desk in labor and delivery. I asked to go back to T’s room.  They told me the number and pointed me in her direction.

I was instructed to “just walk in and introduce myself.”  On the outside I held it together thinking I can do this, you prayed for this opportunity, you are going to get to tell your son about this amazing moment one day. But on the inside my thoughts were everywhere, Just walk in and introduce myself? What do you say to the woman who is giving you her biological son? “Umm….thanks.”  That didn’t seem right or enough. "Will she recognize me from the profile? Won’t this be awkward? I mean the lady is in labor. Will she like me? Will she be shy? Will she talk? Talk…what do we talk about?  Enjoying this weather?  No that’s no good.  How about those Bears? No I don’t even know who the Bears are or what sport they play? So what’s your favorite color? Definitely not. How are you feeling? Hmm she’s in labor, I’m guessing not great." Nothing seemed quite right.

I was envisioning myself walking in and saying all the wrong things and goofing it all up.  I stopped outside her room to pray. I praised God for this amazing opportunity, prayed that the Holy Spirit would calm my heart and give me the words to say, and that Christ’s love would shine brightly through me and my love for her and this baby boy.

I stood there for a moment and then opened the door slowly. I walked in and there she was. She was absolutely beautiful. I had seen a picture but it didn’t do her justice. I could already tell she was sweet. She had such a kind face and very inviting eyes.  I leaned in and asked, “T?”

With a sweet voice she said, “Yeah come on in and have a seat.” She definitely possessed the southern hospitality you always hear about, even in the midst of labor.

The first things I noticed as I entered her hospital room were her beautiful eyes and the sound of my son’s heartbeat on the monitor. I was instructed to keep the conversation light this time because there would be time later to talk about the “heavy” stuff. I held back tears as I heard his little heart beating. I was in the room with my son. Granted he was still in the womb, but he was here. He was within a few feet of me. I could hear him and it was the most precious sound I have ever heard. I may have missed the ultrasounds along the way but that moment made up for it all.

I sat down and began chatting. It was as if I was reconnecting with an old friend. We talked about everything from sports to food to this precious baby boy that was about to make his arrival. She asked me all kinds of questions and I asked her several as well. I felt like I already knew her well. I think we would be great friends in a different scenario, different time in life. We had a lot in common.

We kept chatting and we laughed a lot. I looked at the clock and 2 hours had passed. Wow!!! Just moments ago when I stood on the other side of the door I thought I will probably chat with her for about 20 minutes and then wait outside in the waiting room for delivery. I never would have guessed we would have chatted for 2 whole hours. Wow, God provided again. He answered yet another prayer.

Toward the end of our 2 hour chat T looked over at me and said, “I want you to be in the delivery room when he is born if you want to be.”   I said, “Of course I would love to be here if you would like that.”  She said she would like that and then she uttered the most precious words I have ever heard, “You might even have to hold my hand.” 

I held back tears because I didn’t want to get everyone all emotional, not yet. I told her I would be honored to hold her hand and be a part of this moment. How many adopting families get to say they held the hand of their child’s birth mother? I felt incredibly blessed. Nervous, but blessed.

There was a bit of a lull in the conversation and T started to look like she was in a bit of pain. She has just gotten and epidural before I arrived and said she was feeling great after that. She started expressing that she was feeling a lot of pain so I called the nurse to come check on her.

The nurse walked in and checked her. She said, “No wonder you are feeling some pain, you have a baby sitting right here. He is ready to go. Let’s start pushing. I’ll call the doctor but baby may be here before he gets here.” 

Both T and I were a little shocked. I think we both thought it would take a lot longer. So, this was my first experience in the delivery room. I knew I was coming to welcome my son but I didn’t expect to be a labor coach as well.  As all the nurses gathered around her and the doctor finally arrived I held T’s hand. They were telling, well yelling, at her to push. She squeezed my hand and pushed as hard as she could. I kept telling her she was doing a great job and that it wouldn’t be much longer. T pushed about 3 times and baby boy was here!!!!!

I thought hearing his heartbeat on the monitor was the most precious sound I could ever hear but my son’s first cries changed my life forever. In that moment I wanted to scoop him up and never let him go. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay and that mommy was here and that she loved him more than she could ever tell him. But, there was someone else in the room that needed my attention too.  As the nurses were cleaning, weighing, and getting baby boy ready I had one eye on T and one eye on this little miracle.

In all the times that I thought about this moment I guess I failed to think about how much my heart would break for this beautiful young woman that was making one of the most selfless choices a woman could ever make. As much as I wanted to run to my son’s side I had to stay with T for just a moment. This woman chose life. This woman chose me. She chose me to be her son’s mother. She was loving enough to choose life. She was wise enough to choose adoption. She was brave enough to let go.  And now she was here, next to me, still feeling the pain of labor and hearing the sounds of a baby boy she would never hold or cuddle, or rock to sleep, or watch take his first step, or hear his first word.

My heart has never been so full of so many different emotions at the same time. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms too. I wanted to tell her that I love her and that it was going to be okay. I wanted to take her home with me too and help her have a better life.

Things were happening really fast after baby boy arrived and T had requested that baby be taken out of the room as soon as he was born. She knew it would make her choose easier if she didn’t see him or hold him after delivery. The nurses were handing my son to me and telling me all of his stats.

He was 6 pounds and 1 ounce, 19.5 inches long. They kept congratulating me and telling me how perfect he was.  I stood in awe of this little miracle in my arms. He was bundled so tightly in the hospital blankets you could barely see his beautiful, perfect little face. I always thought I would burst into tears at this moment, uncontrollable joy. But, my heart was so full I think my body didn’t know how to respond. I stood there gazing into his eyes, soothing his cries, and realizing I was a mother.

Before they whisked me away to a room across the hall, I walked back to T. I squeezed her hand and said, “You were amazing! You are my hero!”  I told her that I would check on her later that night and that I hoped she got some great rest after all that work.

Leaving her room felt strange. My heart broke for her. What would she feel like when she saw the door shutting behind me? That was the last moment she would hear or see this baby boy. Had she held back her tears? Would this be the hardest few hours of her life? Was she going to regret her decision? Was she going to change her mind? Did she have anyone to go home to for love and support?

I prayed for God to comfort her heart and to hold her tight as I walked across the hall to hold my baby boy tight. I knew only God could do the kind of healing that was ahead in her life.

My first view of his sweet little face

He is Here!!! 

I couldn't stop kissing him

Look at that sweet little smile