The Call

On Saturday, December 18, 1999, my husband, Gary and I started our holiday season off with my companys Holiday party. As we were getting dressed for the festive event, I noticed a rash on my neck. I could immediately rule out poison ivy and poison oak, as it was the middle of December. Panic set in. The large red bumps looked hideous, and trying to conceal the rash with makeup only made the itching worse. Could it be some strange disease? An allergic reaction? To calm my fears, Gary suggested that I put some topical ointment on it, and take the wait and see approach. Realizing how silly I was being, that is what I did, and we went off to the party. While getting dressed the next morning, I discovered a new patch on my left hip and the patch on my neck had spread from one side to the other. I decided I needed to see my general physician as soon as possible.

While lying in bed on Monday morning waiting for the doctors office to open, the phone rang. I was surprised to hear the voice at the other end. It was Barbara, the social worker we had been working with to adopt a baby. She was calling to tell us a 14-year-old girl was about to deliver a baby any day. The girl had selected us as the adoptive parents. Oh, what a Christmas this was going to be! I was in disbelief. We were told by so many people that adopting a brand new baby is nearly impossible in the United States. Suddenly, the rash was the focus of my morning. I immediately picked up the phone to call Gary with the good news. The surprise in his voice gave me chills, which were quickly warmed by the thought of us having the baby we longed for joining our family.

Gary and I decided we would not tell our family members about the impending birth. We did not want everyone getting anxious every time the phone rang. We had enough to deal with while the rash was taking over my body. After making several frantic phone calls to make arrangements for the delivery of much needed baby supplies and composing myself, I went to my doctors appointment. The doctor thought it was an allergic reaction to the live Christmas tree we bought to help celebrate the holiday season. I tried the medicine the doctor prescribed but it didnt help, and each day became more uncomfortable. Waiting for the birth of the baby we desperately wanted only fed the mystery rash, causing it to cover 60% of my body. A trip to the emergency room early on Christmas morning finally brought some much needed relief from some very strong steroids, and a diagnosis of an infection caused by fungus commonly found on pine trees.

The Meeting

A week later, the rash disappeared and we finally got the call we had been waiting for on Christmas. Our social worker called to tell me we had a baby girl. I was ecstatic! You hear stories about couples waiting years for this moment. Our moment was here, and I could not wait to see our new bundle of joy. I asked Barbara what was the course of action. She told me she was on her way to the hospital to have the birthmother sign the necessary papers to start the adoption proceedings and would arrange a time for Gary and me to come over for a visit. I immediately called Gary and told him we were parents. He was so excited he told me his was on his way home. I then called everyone I could think of; which to most people would seem logical. This was an adoption in the early stages; and our first attempt. There was so much I didnt consider.

That evening we made the trip to the hospital to meet our daughter. She was perfect! Everyone in the room cried. It was such a surreal moment. We spent two hours answering questioned about ourselves, and how we planned to raise the baby. We didnt mind because we were willing to consider an open adoption. We stressed that the birthmother would always be a part of the babys life to some degree. At the end of the two hours, visiting hours were over and we had to leave because we were not blood relatives of the birthmother. I remember leaving the hospital in shock. I couldnt believe that a holiday that started out with an uncomfortable rash could end so happily. I couldnt wait for the next morning when we would return to bring home our baby.

Gary got up the next morning to go to work and tie up some loose ends so he could be home for a few days adjusting to his status as a father. I got up to get an early start on preparing the babys room. We had to borrow a crib from my parents, an infant car seat from neighbors, and find an outfit for the baby to wear when she left the hospital. I managed to get all of that done fairly quickly and found myself staring at the phone waiting for the call telling me to return to the hospital and pick up the baby. Instead, I got a call telling me there had been a development. The birthmother had changed her mind late the night before. The birthfathers parents, who had been in denial about the pregnancy, suddenly fell in love with the baby and didnt want her placed for adoption. Also, one of the night shift nurses spent time telling the birthmother it was a mistake to place the baby for adoption. Her daughter had placed a baby for adoption, and found the experience to be too hard. The nurse didnt think other birthparents and their families should experience the same thing. How could she do such a thing? There are nurses in my family, and I cant recall a time when any of them shared their personal opinion with a patient. I found that to be so unprofessional on her part. After Barbara told me about the events from the night before, she tried to instill hope in me by telling me she had some options to try. I called Gary and told him to come home. I wasnt going to spend the day waiting alone. Gary and I spent the day watching TV, trying to nap, and praying everything would go our way. The day just seemed to drag on. In a way, I couldnt wait for it to be over. It didnt matter what the outcome would be. At least I would know what to do next. I would either apply for paternity leave or go back to work.

Lessons Learned

Finally, that evening, Barbara called to say she was on her way to our house. She needed to see us. I knew why. We had lost the baby. The 14 year old thought she knew what was best by her raising the baby on her own and working on a visitation schedule with the birthfathers parents. When adopting a baby, there is nothing worse than someone changing his or her mind. It was the one of the worst things to date that has happened to us; but we learned some things about ourselves. We found out that others thought we would be good parents for their baby. We learned we could handle meeting the birthmother of our baby. Most of all, we know we can recover from the devastation of losing the happy ending of our most cherished dream, becoming parents. It will happen. It is just a matter of time. People often ask us why we havent gone overseas to adopt one of the thousands of children waiting for a home. Because that would be too easy. We believe children are a gift, and when the time is right, we will receive that gift with open arms.

After Barbara left our house that dreadful night, I decided to write a letter to the birthmother. I wasnt sure how it was going to be delivered to her until the next morning. I decided I needed to deliver it myself with the little yellow sleeper I had picked out for the babys trip home. As I drove to the hospital, I imagined how the meeting was going to go. I was going to change the birthmothers mind. Little did I know she wasnt accepting any visitors. I found myself at the nurses station sobbing with the nurses standing there feeling helpless. This may sound like a terrible thing, and leave people wondering why would I put myself through such an experience. Actually, it helped. I learned I had the strength to confront the person who had both a positive and negative effect on my life.