“You ready to tell the world, babe?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
I can’t even attempt to adequately and cleverly wordsmith this: we gonna get ourselves a baby!
Before you all get toooo excited, there’s a lot that’s still…delicate. But, let’s start from the beginning.
On December 20 – a day that will be burned into my brain as brightly as our wedding day – I was sitting at my desk when I got a call from our adoption agency. There is only one reason why our agency would be calling: we had been chosen by a birth mom.
What we haven’t shared with all of you is that this is, in some ways, our third go around. For those familiar with this blog, we shared in our last post that the first mother we were presented to didn’t choose us. A few weeks later, we were presented with another birth mom, whose situation wasn’t something that was going to ultimately be the best for our family, and for her child.
So here we find ourselves – 0 for 2, but now, suddenly, with a glimpse of sun in the sky.
When our adoption agency called to tell us the news, I wasn’t sure how I should feel. Though we’d already gone through one heartbreak and one difficult decision, this was the first time a birth mom had chosen us. She saw her baby as having the best life possible with us.
You guys – this shit can bring you to your knees.
Do you understand the weight and responsibility of that decision?
Our agency started to tell me more about our birth mom. For the sake of everyone’s privacy, including our own, we hesitate to share too much about this incredible human who has chosen Chris and I to be the parents of her child, due in the Spring. But it’s real. She’s real. It’s all real.
“She wants to hear from you. Tonight,” our advocate said.
What do you say to the woman whose baby may one day be your child? And how do you decide what to say in a matter of hours?
We agreed that based on the situation, a text was best. It took me 30 minutes to compose the perfect text.
My stomach was in my throat for the next few hours as I could do nothing but stare at my phone waiting for her response (don’t worry, colleagues, this was off the clock).
And respond she did. What came after was 48 hours of the most exquisite texting experience I’ve ever had. That sounds ridiculous to say out loud, but when you think about the heaviness and the weight of what this meant, it takes your breathe away.
Every exchange, every text from her, felt like a miracle.
In those 48 hours, I felt like….a mom. I told Chris as we began texting that this was the first time I actually felt like a mother. It was the most surreal feeling I’ve had in a long time. I can’t really describe it, but I knew, in that moment, I knew.
Of course, there are details about that conversation, and the ones that followed, that we want to keep to ourselves because they’re lovely and pure and such a sacred part of this journey. So, I’ll leave that at that.
And, there are so many hurdles ahead. As we’re just getting used to the idea of being adoptive parents, this angel human is getting used to that same idea. And she’s got months to think about the decision she’s making, bond with the baby growing inside of her, wrestle with feelings she never thought she’d have to navigate.
The conversations ebb and flow, too. It’s in the in-between where worry and insecurity set in. Is she going to change her mind? Has she already? Those are the moments that feel the worst. But they feel real. So incredibly real.
She may decide that, ultimately, this isn’t the right ending for this story. And it’s something that, while unbelievably devastating on every level, could happen. And we have to be prepared for it. We’re not, yet – but we will be.
In spite of everything that could happen, or maybe because of it, we already feel as if we’ve been given the sweetest gift life could give. To enter into this situation with open hearts and eyes, knowing that whatever happens is meant to be. This birth mom is an angel; a baby would be lucky to be loved by either of us. But in reality, he or she will be loved so deeply by both.
And no matter what that outcome is, I will forever treasure that moment where I felt, for the first time, like a mom. I want that feeling back. I want to wake up to it, and breathe it in every day.
I’m ready for this journey now. Wherever it takes us.
This. This is what it feels like.
One thought on “This is What it Feels Like”
Meggie, I have dealt with hundreds of adoptive parents, including myself, and I have never heard that amazing moment described better. This child, or if not the next, will have such a gift to grow up knowing unconditional love.