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Our Adoption Story…
My husband, Bronson, and I dated six and a half years through college before we got engaged. We established our careers, got a dog, married, bought a home, paid some bills and then decided to get pregnant. We’d been happily married three years and wanted this more than anything. It was a natural and easy pregnancy and soon we had Jace, a beautiful, healthy baby-boy. He was smart, adorable and easy-going. We devoted all of our attention to him for the first three years. It was about that time he began to ask about a “baby brother or sister”. To be honest, I wasn’t sure we were ready but it seemed like the next step. We never had any fears of getting pregnant a second time. Our whole life together was written like a chapter book in perfect chronological order. We were blessed beyond belief.
Without going over every clinical moment in our efforts to conceive…I can state the facts. We tried for about six months and finally got pregnant and then suddenly lost it after only seven weeks. We had just begun to share our exciting news with everyone. I was shocked and numb. The doctor advised waiting at least three months after the procedure before trying again. The doctors ran a few hours behind schedule that day. I had plenty of time to go over every detail of what I could have done to cause the miscarriage. The hardest part was to see people’s faces and listen to them apologize after they had congratulated us minutes before. I waited until I was physically able to begin trying again. Emotionally I wasn’t ready, but I felt I owed it to my family to be “tough”.
Now, conceiving had taken priority in our lives. It became methodic, robotic, and unnatural. It took about nine months to get pregnant again. This time we held our breath, never allowing ourselves to get excited. We lost that pregnancy at five weeks. It had been exactly one year since our previous miscarriage, almost to the day. It was two weeks until Christmas. We didn’t want to ruin this for our son, so we kept all those events private. This was something we couldn’t begin to comprehend, how could we expect a five year old to understand? As our friends had their first then second child, we tried to wear happy faces. We listened to all the unsolicited advice and analyzed every possibility of what we could be doing wrong. I recorded my monthly cycles. Our son prayed every night for three years about getting a “baby-brother or sister”. One night, I went in to kiss him good-night and caught him crying. He wanted to know why God hadn’t answered his prayers yet.
We began to see a fertility doctor. We had a cabinet full of ovulation kits and a trash full of negative pregnancy test sticks. I had blood drawn numerous times. Maybe the professionals could help us make sense of all this. We didn’t care how much it cost; we were on a mission. I had all the fertility tests run then got a final diagnosis. The specialist reported I had very few viable eggs and the ones I did have, probably had chromosome defects. I was 35! I had been taking my vitamins, eating right and exercising for years. I was educated and had read all the right books. Then I began to resent my body. I had always been told I looked young for my age. If only people knew what was wrong with me on the inside. I was angry. Women had been getting pregnant since the beginning of time. This was the reason God had put man on earth…to procreate. It was so simple. What was wrong with me? There were people around us getting pregnant, who didn’t want to be pregnant. Why would this happen to us?
My husband and I haven’t always had a fairytale life. We both had “rough childhoods” and chose not to dwell on those pasts. During the time of our infertility, my husband’s Dad, had been diagnosed with cancer, of which, he slowly declined. I was no stranger to loss myself. My mother died when I was 12 years old. I can say being an only child of a young, single mom who died in a sudden accident was a challenge. I had successfully survived that tragedy. But I never imagined infertility would affect me, my husband, my marriage, my job and my life the way that it did. I learned a painful lesson about myself and about my deep desire to have another child. It was not something I wanted because it would be the logical next step or something just to please my family, friends and society. I wanted this like food, water or air. I feared this could end up being an empty hole in my life if I just accepted the situation. I felt ashamed for not being satisfied with one perfect kid. At times, I behaved in ways I wish had not. I just did not know how to deal with all the pain. I couldn’t even imagine my life as a mother ending with just my son. My husband was beginning to realize his father probably would not survive the cancer. And now he had to watch me slowly fall apart. We became strangers to each other. My husband thought if we didn’t talk about the infertility…it would go away. I tried to bury my feelings so I didn’t inconvenience anyone.
We began to attend The Church at Battle Creek as an effort to bring something positive into our lives. At that point, I was just going through the motions of my daily routine. Later we realized the church and Pastor Alex had a great passion for adoption. I only wished I had the courage to do something like that. I was scared and unsure of what would happen to our family. I felt guilt for not being able to give my son his greatest wish. I decided for once in my life to let go and not try to be in control of the future. That had always been my way of life, but had not been working for me recently. I was sick of crying and being in a bad mood, but found it difficult to dig myself out of that dark hole. I knew my options and was tired of talking about them. I even tried to accept the idea of having only one child and spending more time with our niece. I had a baby-niece who could always use our help since her parents were so young. Was this what God wanted for me? So, I finally asked. “God, if you only want me to have one child, PLEASE, make this desire go away. If I am to be blessed with another then give me a sign…any sign of hope.” I prayed that prayer multiple times a day for months.
I was given my diagnosis from the fertility doctor on a Thursday and that following Sunday was Mother’s Day. As if it couldn’t get any worse, that morning when we arrived at church, we found out it was baby dedications. I quickly prayed “God give me the strength to get through this service”. I was doing well and all those cute babies were a distraction. Pastor Alex acknowledged it was a joyous time for these families, but he also wanted to recognize it was a painful time for others. Then that pivotal moment in our life came. He asked any families suffering from infertility to please stand and let the church pray for them at that moment. I felt my husband take my hand and together we stood. For once in my life I was speechless. Neither, my husband or I are emotional, but we were deeply moved by the people around us who began to pray. When we got out to the car, I looked at my husband and asked what he thought of us adopting. I had asked God for a sign; I just never imagined he would give us neon, flashing arrow pointing in the direction of hope. And that was the beginning, of the journey our family was about to go on.
Everyday after Mother’s Day was one step closer to our decision to adopt. We talked to friends and family about our plan to adopt a baby. We spoke to many families who had adopted both locally and internationally. The dentist I worked for had adopted his two daughters from China. Both local and international adoptions cost about the same, but international adoptions tend to take longer to complete. Then I began calling different agencies in Tulsa and Oklahoma City to find out what were the criteria and costs of adoptions. I have always been concerned that there are children all over the world who deserve to be adopted. At this time in my life, I felt there was a child who needed to be adopted, and possibly, near my hometown.
We were surprised at the expense, the strict criteria and the extensive background checks involved in an adoption. One agency with good recommendations required the adoptive family prove that one parent would stay at home with the child, until he or she was in the first grade. If a family planned to rely on grandparents, sisters or aunts to care for their child after they returned to work, they could be refused acceptance into the program. A mother who returns to her career, part- time, after her child is a toddler is considered less of an acceptable parent? What if the family has no other children living at home to interact with this adopted child? What if to cover the expenses of an adoption, both parents must work? One agency required documentation and an interview with the pastor to demonstrate your life long history in a church. I was raised in a single-parent household to a teenage mother and not given an opportunity to grow up in a church. Did this make me any less of a Christian?
When we found Heritage Family Services, we realized, it was an agency that shared our beliefs in an open adoption. Their goal is to put a child into a loving Christian home and have a positive outcome for all parties involved, be that, the Birth Mom, Adoptive Parents and Child. We felt a sense of peace and calm after our first consultation with the agency. My husband and I had many questions and concerns. It seemed from the moment we decided to begin the adoption process everything began to fall perfectly into place. It was nothing special we did. For the first time in my life, I let God be in control. Heritage helped us understand the adoption process and would walk us through each step. The agency would answer any of our questions and council us and the Birth Mom. From the beginning, we had great concern for the physical and emotional well being of our future Birth Mom. We hoped to have a local open adoption of a newborn. It never mattered to us the race or gender of the child. We hoped someday to be able to openly talk about our adoption as an amazing blessing that changed our family. We never wanted it to be something we whispered privately about. To act as if it was a secret, would lessen the impact it could have on our whole family. If by the grace of God, we were blessed with another child, we would never want to take that gift for granted. Hopefully, by sharing our story we could give strength to another family who may be going through a similar situation.
As we were going through the adoption process, we would go to my husband’s hometown on weekends to visit my Father-in-law, Fred. He was only fifty-nine years old and had been diagnosed with colon cancer and was receiving treatments. He was such a happy and carefree man. I don’t think any of us ever allowed ourselves to believe he could die from this disease. Fred was still going to work and only taking days off for his treatments. Six months into the adoption process we completed all the necessary paperwork and background checks. Debbie, at Heritage, told me to relax and take my time working on our Life Book. She was well aware of Fred’s illness because of all our recent meetings and interviews. She encouraged us to focus on our family and to prepare ourselves; it was going to be a long wait. The following week, we got a call from Bronson’s brother to come to his parent’s home because hospice felt the end was near. We rushed to Chickasha to be with all of Bronson’s immediate family. We had seen Fred just the weekend before and he seemed fine. Tired… but after all he was sick. I’m SO grateful we were given those last days to be with Bronson’s family and given the opportunity to say our good-byes to Fred. That was an experience I learned was priceless with my mother’s sudden death. Never assume that tomorrow there will be another chance to tell someone how much they mean to you.
We had our last church service with his Dad in Bronson’s Mother’s living room, by his father’s bedside. His father passed away the next day. We were all by his bedside and the funeral was three days later. After the funeral my husband insisted we get back home and try to continue in our normal routine of work and school. The night of the funeral we returned home late. As we listened to messages on our answering machine we realized we missed a phone call from Heritage. I called them back the next day from work. They asked how quickly I could get my Life Book turned in to the agency. They said they had a prospective Mom coming in that week and would like to have our book available with all the other families. I worked on our Life Book until 4 a.m. and turned it in the following afternoon. That Friday the agency called and said they had a Birth Mom who wanted to meet us after seeing our scrapbook. Our son still knew nothing of the adoption; so I took the phone call in the backyard of my home. I’m glad I did, because when Debbie, the social worker, began describing the physical characteristics of the Birth Mom they were similar to mine. Our mother and father were even the same nationality and we all wanted an open adoption. I remember Debbie saying she was carrying a baby girl who was due in 6 weeks!!! It was pretty much a blur after that. I could barely see as the tears filled my eyes. I just remember pacing and trying to get myself together before I called my husband at work and gave him the amazing news.
It was not as difficult as I thought it would be to keep our seven year old son from finding out we were waiting on the birth of a child. Jace had always been very trusting of us and never the type to question what we told him. About three weeks before the baby was due, we began working on our baby room and bringing baby items down from the attic. We chose a day he had been spending time with his grandparents to get some work done. As we prepared the room, we kept it locked to avoid our son becoming suspicious. We had never turned the baby room into anything else after our son moved into a big-boy’s room. At times, it had been a very sensitive subject. It was painful for me to even go in that room or look at the mural painted on the wall. The baby furniture was still in its place and the meadow scene was still on the north wall. I would even get upset when anyone else went in the room. The door remained shut and the room had been vacant for about the last four years.
About two weeks before the due date, Jace asked why his Dad was spending time in the baby room and where I was taking all those sacks and boxes. I told him we had a friend who was pregnant and she was alone and needed our help after she delivered her baby. I asked him if he would mind us helping her and he said “no” and that he thought it would be fun. Remember, Jace had been praying about getting a sibling for about three years now. He had always enjoyed playing with other friend’s younger siblings too. We knew he would make a great Big Brother. The hard part was being patient. Now it seemed our patience was about to pay off. I never allowed myself to get very excited. We knew legally, birth moms are able to change their minds after the baby is born. It was a scary thought, but one you had to prepare everyone involved for. I prayed for God to give me the strength to accept the birth mother’s choice no matter how painful. If this baby was meant to be our child, it would be. If the birth mom changed her mind, then the child was never meant to be ours. I could never pressure or force someone to make the decision to give up a child to benefit my family. That is a pain I would never inflict on anyone. I couldn’t live with myself if I was given a child knowing the birth mom regretted it. I knew what it felt like to lose someone you cared for very deeply.
From the beginning, we really wanted to get to know our Birth Mom. This was a relationship that was going to have a huge impact on our family. If not today, then someday when our adopted child is grown. Honestly, the trust develops over time, but it also requires a leap of faith. We wanted to put ourselves on the line, at least in the hopes of helping someone in need. There had to have been some reason we were all brought together. We were surprised at how quickly our friendship developed. All of our meetings felt natural and easy. There was an instant connection and respect for our Birth Mom. We could not have dreamed up a more perfect birth mom. To this day, I don’t know if she realizes the magnitude of the positive impact she has had on all my family and friends.
We realized the importance of medical records and personality profiles. One of the most important reasons to develop a good open relationship with the Birth Mom is for the adopted child to know all the effort, planning and love everyone put into placing them in the best home. Also, making sure the birth mom, adoptive parents and child all have the best chance at health, happiness and a sense of peace in how the story ends. The benefit of an open adoption is that there are no closed doors; only the opportunity to extend the amount of love that surrounds this child.
There are no rules in an open adoption. The best rule is to achieve good communication about what everyone involved is comfortable with. Being respectful, communicating and listening to what each party wants. We loved our Birth Mom the moment we first met her. In just a few weeks, we tried to get to know her as a person. We didn’t want to treat her as though she had something we would benefit from. We wanted to treat her like we would any young girl who was pregnant and needed support both physically and emotionally. We wanted what was best for her and her baby. I tried not to think of the baby as mine…not yet, at least. A couple of weeks before she went into labor, she asked if I would like to be in the delivery room. I said “yes”, but had no idea that event would be life changing. When she went into labor, she called me from the hospital and told me I could come up. I got there as quickly as I could. I was warmly welcomed by her two girlfriends who would also be present during the delivery. They helped me take pictures and video of our big day. We were so grateful of all their kind and supportive words about my husband and I being the baby’s parents. I got to know her friends as we patiently waited on the baby’s arrival. Whenever the nurses came in to check on her progress I would go update my family and friends in the waiting room. I was speechless when I witnessed my daughter being born. We named her, Alexis Jillian. Jillian was after my mother, Jill. I will never forget the flood of love and emotion that hit me the moment I saw her beautiful face. Where had this all come from? I had kept my heart safely guarded from a baby I had never seen or touched. Now in this moment, I realize my logic was powerless against the intense love I felt for this child. There is no less intensity, of my love for this child, even though I did not carry her for nine months.
Bronson and I got to walk Alexis down to the nursery and give her, her first bath and bottle. With my son, I had a C-section and the side effects from the spinal block took a long time to resolve. I didn’t see my son for the first few hours after he was born. The birth of my daughter was nothing I expected or had experienced before. The benefit of not giving birth is the ability to experience all this with complete clarity. After my son’s delivery, I shivered uncontrollably as a result of the anesthesia. The hospital wouldn’t allow me to hold my son until that adverse effect ended. I was shaking that day Alexis was born too, but couldn’t put blame to the cause. I assume it was all the adrenaline. That same excitement kept us standing beside her bassinet in the nursery until 1:30 the next morning! My husband practically begged me to release my hand from her bassinet. I was afraid to walk away. I felt protective and afraid if I left I would miss something. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was breath taking! What could I have possibly done to deserve this gift? For months after we brought her home, I would catch myself studying her face. How can God create something so perfect? I’ve never been the type to cry at funerals or sad movies. But often, I found my self joyfully crying when she smiled, or at her peaceful expression as she slept in my arms. I was blessed once with my son, and now, like a dream, I was being blessed to experience this kind of love, again. All I can do is show gratitude by sharing my story. I try not to focus on the fact I don’t feel I deserve this experience, but maybe Jace and Alexis do.
After we left the hospital and took our baby girl home, we felt a weight was lifted. My husband and I could relax and enjoy Alexis, with out concern of sharing her with anyone. At the hospital, the staff always turned to the Birth Mom on any of the babies needs. At times we felt like outsiders. Our Birth Mom had not done anything to give us concern. She had just wanted to spend time with Alexis until we took her home from the hospital. We made ourselves available for every possible moment we could bond with our new baby. We also believed Alexis needed to hear and feel love from the only mother she had ever known. Still we felt the burden of the remote possibility; she had the right to change her mind. She had the right to be a mother to this child if she believed she could. We believed, if she didn’t change her mind in the first couple of days at the hospital, it was unlikely she would do it after we had taken Alexis home.
The biological parents all went down to our county court house and signed the legal documents, only four days after she was born. We were shocked and appreciative at how quickly they did this. Legally, it was like we were fostering our daughter and Heritage was her legal guardian. That day, when Jace came home from school, Bronson video-taped me telling Jace that our friend (Birth Mom) had asked us if we would like to keep Alexis and make her a part of our family. He was a bit confused at first. When he finally realized his wish had come true, he became very excited. He had no idea that he had participated in picking Alexis’ first name. He said “now we don’t have to pray to God about bringing us a baby- brother or sister anymore”. I couldn’t believe how smoothly everything had gone. Now we could enjoy our new family until the legal finalization in about six months. That first six months flew by! We got to watch Alexis grow and make wonderful memories with her. She has brought so much more meaning and purpose to our life. She is such a happy little girl and has the most beautiful smile. From this experience, I not only appreciate our daughter but I realize what a miracle our son is. It has given me a stronger relationship with Bronson and Jace. I learned a few things about myself and my sincere desire to be a mother too.
We would need to wait six months before we could petition to have her legally adopted by our family. At that time we would be responsible to get our own lawyer to represent us in our final hearing. On Mother’s Day, when Alexis was five months old, she was dedicated to our church. The baby dedications at TCABC are only twice a year. It had been Mother’s Day one year earlier at church when we were inspired to adopt.
Today, Alexis has brought immeasurable joy to my son’s, my husband’s and my life. I can’t imagine how life was before she became a part of our family. Life was good and now even better! I’m appreciative and respectful of the painful journey my family endured to get our daughter. I believe that I would not be the same person if I had easily gotten pregnant with our second child. If I learned one thing…it is sometimes you have to lose something important to realize what it means to you. I will be forever changed and humbled by my second chance at motherhood.
This adoption has had a powerful impact on everyone involved. People never cease to amaze me with their gifts, prayers or words of support. Members of my community group at church brought meals when we came home from the hospital. Life-long friends ask to babysit so Bronson and I can have a “date night”. It would take an eternity to acknowledge the people who have made this whole experience easier. Family, friends, coworkers, TCABC, Heritage Family Services and just people I share our story with along the way. Like, the generous woman who does my families alterations. She wants to do all our alterations but will not accept any money. She said our story has touched her life and just seeing this happy little girl is payment enough. At times I get embarrassed and have argued her generosity. I have to remind myself, to not accept her gift would only be my pride. Just as not sharing my story would be selfish. I might miss the opportunity to give one family or one person hope that miracles do happen. Even to everyday people who haven’t always lived a spirit-filled life.
Alexis is now nine months old and we had our final hearing in court to legalize the adoption. The last year was one of great joy and sadness for our families. This time last year my father-in-law was coming to the end of his battle with cancer. Our hearts were breaking. If you could have told me that a year into the future I would be the mother of a beautiful nine-month-old little girl, I might have told you to slow down. Unbelievably, the adoption process only took six months from the day we began working on our paperwork with Heritage to having Alexis in our arms. There is no other way to explain it than to say it was and is “a miracle”. We did nothing special except have faith.
There are many different types of adoptions: local, international, open, semi-open and closed to name a few. One is right for you and your family. I’m grateful we have found the one that has worked for us. I believe if the desire of your heart is truly there, then it is meant to be. Our God wouldn’t allow you to feel eternally empty if there was a sincere desire to be filled. Just have an open mind, a lot of patience, and remind yourself that you will have your baby someday… it just may not come the way YOU planned it. Maybe your idea of how the story will play out is not how it was written. There is purpose in the slow development of the story and the characters in it. If we always knew how our story was going to end, we could never possibly appreciate the happy ending.
