“After adopting our first daughter, Lemmon, I wanted to spend as much time as possible getting to know her and our new family of three. We had to wait years to acquire her and endure even more heartache and sorrow as she was adopted. I wanted to savor every moment with her and remember everything that had gone into getting her here.
I recall having a strong sensation when she was just 4 months old that we would be beginning our second adoption much sooner than we had anticipated. I didn’t know why; it wasn’t in our plans. Now, though, I understand.
We knew our next kid was eager to arrive when Lemmon became a year and a half old. We felt we could do it all by ourselves, with no medical assistance, no adoption agency, and just us. When it comes to infertility, it’s easy to forget about it. It’s usually not visible, and you’re left with no explanation. You forget and believe that you are invincible. We were going through the motions of our first year of trying to start a family all over again. However, this time, I knew how to approach it with greater optimism and faith.
I was all set to phone our agency, request a home study, and be placed on the ‘waiting list.’ My husband, on the other hand, had a different opinion. He was confident that we would find our child through private adoption. This frightened me! You’re essentially advertising yourself to expectant parents, and you’re highly vulnerable as a result. It took a lot of persuasions because I had no faith that expectant mothers would use social media to find their adoptive homes. ‘Oh ye of little faith…’ Isn’t that r, right?
We made our film by talking to our possible birth family personally. We informed them about ourselves, why we wanted to adopt, and, most importantly, how much we love them and consider them members of our family. We placed it in the open and waited. A few expectant mothers contacted us, as well as some scammers. I admire most about those expectant mothers because they have all opted to start a family. They continue to follow me on social media, and I enjoy keeping up with them to see how they are doing. They’re fantastic!
I’ll never forget the day I learned about a certain expectant mother. I was waiting to pick up my sister from the airport in my car. I was going through Instagram when I received a message…
‘Hello! I’m not familiar with you, but I’ve recently been followed know you’re attempting to adopt, and I’m following a girl who might be looking for a home. If you have any further queries, send her a message.’
I’d received a few messages similar to this one, but they all terminated in a dead end. This one was a little unusual. It wasn’t this ecstatic, butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling. It was a gentle, soothing tug toward this expectant mother’s job:
‘…. I’m considering all of my choices.’ Whether I keep my kid or choose adoption, I am confident that they will be loved.’
I debated whether or not to contact this pregnant mother. She was certainly inundated with comments, but that subtle, soothing pull was still there. So I sent her a quick message, letting her know that we were here if she had any questions, even if she wasn’t planning on placing.
Her reaction was one of the most memorable I’ve ever heard. She mentioned that many of her friends had sent her our adoption video. She cried and felt a tug towards us as she watched it. Then she said something that threw everything into disarray. ‘I’m not sure why I’m feeling this way, but who knows, maybe I’m your biological mother.’
Birth mothers take on the sister’s role, and birth fathers take on the brother’s role. Whether you’ve known them for a long time or merely had a brief encounter with them, they quickly become a part of your family, and you can tell. When she was 5 months pregnant, we were fortunate to meet this expecting mother in person. She was my younger sister. No matter what had gotten her to this point, she was someone I wanted to protect and love unconditionally. She was my younger sister.
The expectant mother debated where she should deliver her child. But we continued to talk every day and were there for her as much as we could at the time. We received another call regarding a baby who was ready to be placed during this time. Unfortunately for us, it resulted in an unsuccessful adoption.
I couldn’t figure out why. He was flawless. For various reasons, he was intended to be a part of our family. ‘How could it fail?’ I’d think to myself. What if the other expectant mother decided to raise her child? ‘Could another heartbreak be too much for me?’ It was a matter of trust. There’s a lot of trusts here. On the other hand, my spouse had faith that everything would be OK with this expectant mother. He knew she and her kid were destined to join our family.
We talked every day for the next few months. I was able to learn more about her and her personality and how incredible she is. Then it was time to meet our expectant father. I believe expectant fathers are undervalued. His biggest concern was that his child would be cherished and given the finest possible existence. He grew up to be my brother.
It wasn’t a day of joy, hugs, and tears when they informed us they wanted us to adopt their child. It was a gentle, serene draw toward even more love for them both. We were overjoyed because we knew this baby was intended to be a part of our family. You can’t, however, truly rejoice in your sister’s and brother’s grief.
One night, we were Face-timing with our expecting mother when we heard her say, ‘Ummm… ‘I believe my water has broken!’ What?! It was ten o’clock in the evening. Our baby girl was fast asleep in the next room, and we were still four hours away from the hospital. She quickly hung up the phone. My husband, on the other hand, was the cool, collected one. ‘Wait, this isn’t happening,’ I said in the middle of our bedroom as he began flinging our packed bags into the car. This is just a hoax.’ Nope! We awoke our sleeping kid, summoned my mother and best friend (who also happens to be a birth mother), and drove as fast as the speed limit would allow.
I’ll never forget my hubby and me walking through those hospital doors. It was one of the terrifying things I’ve ever done. I was entering a hallowed space in front of a woman performing the most selfless act a woman could perform. Our pregnant mother offered us the greatest grin and heaved a sigh of relief that we had made it to the end of the pregnancy. For the next few hours, we all drifted in and out of sleep. I prayed constantly and never slept. Everyone in that room’s life would be altered, each in their unique way.
Childbirth is a miraculous event, but witnessing another mother give birth to your kid is a once-in-a-million experience. My husband cut the cord, and they rushed the baby to the doctor right away. That’s when I had to make a difficult choice. Do I accompany our soon-to-be daughter or stay with our pregnant mother? ‘You are intended to be with your baby,’ she told me. These kinds of mothers are a one-in-a-million kind of miracle.
We all adored this one small infant for the next few days. Going inside our birth mother’s room was sometimes difficult since the spirit was strong. It was a comforting, painful, loving, compassionate, and tragic spirit. We all knew the time would come when we’d have to go our ways. I hugged our birth mother one final time. I told her I’d never been able to thank her enough for everything she’d done and that I adored her! The same could be said for our biological father.
We are both forever grateful for social media, despite how difficult it can be at times. It’s what drew us together in the first place. We would never have our amazing birth mom and baby girl if we hadn’t started trying when we did and given it time if my husband hadn’t pushed to keep our adoption private; if we hadn’t uploaded our adoption video at the time.
We knew we wanted our newborn daughter to have a piece of their story, so we named her after our biological mother’s middle name. She’ll never forget where she came from this way. Since that day, we’ve been able to visit our birth parents, and it’s like seeing a long-lost family member.”
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