An Open Adoption Story

All the preparations had been made for the baby shower: cake, decorations, games, flowers, balloons, food and drink. I was nervous because it was my first baby shower in our new home. No, it wasn't for me. It was for my sister-in-law who was due six weeks after our son was due to be born. Our road to parenthood was quite different from hers.

My husband and I decided to adopt after not producing any offspring in three years of marriage. I traveled quite a bit in my business so our method of infertility denial was to say we were "geographically infertile". It worked for us. At 37 and 42 years old we didn't have any time to waste and after learning about the barrage of fertility tests, methods, and invasive procedures that followed as the next "logical" step, I decided that I was unwilling to go through those physical and emotional trials.

After talking with some friends then searching the Yellow Pages we decided on a law firm that specialized in adoption. Both the attorney and paralegal at this firm were wonderful to work with and quite experienced. They conducted classes for prospective adoptive parents, had reading assignments, had birthmothers speak to our group, and even ended the classes with a baby shower for all of us.

The paralegal with this firm has been called "The Matchmaker" which is a very appropriate name. She takes great pride in matching her birth mothers with adoptive parents and pays no attention to any chronological order of when she may have first met with either party. The best match is always her first interest.

After completing our profiles (52 in-depth and personal questions answered by the adoptive mother and father independently of each other), we submitted both profiles along with a photo album of our home, ourselves, family members, friends, and pets.

We were immediately matched with a young married couple who already had an eleven-month-old daughter and couldn't afford another child. The day we met with them is one we will never forget.

All of us were nervous but it was soon obvious that Mark was the strong, silent type, while Brenda was the outgoing one and probably the decision maker. Their daughter, Stephanie, was completely adorable and lots of fun. After our meeting we excitedly agreed to proceed with this couple.

Later that day I learned that my only sister, one year older than myself, had been brutally murdered. My mother and stepfather were in town at the time and we all tried to beat back the tears and shock as we quickly packed and drove all night to my sister's hometown. After the funeral and my return home I didn't know quite how to tell Mark and Brenda what had happened.

Brenda allayed all fears when she wrote me the most thoughtful note I've ever read. She discussed how unfair it was that I was robbed of a sister and how our unborn child was robbed on an aunt, an aunt who could have told our son or daughter about all the silly things Mommy did as a child. Her note continued with love and support and as I sobbed my way through it I realized that this tragedy had brought us even closer together.

Our real moment of truth came in the doctor's office during one of Brenda's routine check-ups. Since she had no other family members in the state and her husband worked odd hours, she asked if I would mind being listed as the one to contact in an emergency. This sounds innocuous until realizing that until this point we had no knowledge of each others' last names, much less addresses or phone numbers.

I decided that whether or not protocol had been set for this I would reveal all. I could tell she was happy with my decision and without being asked she gave me her last name, address and phone number.

That was it. After that we were completely committed to each other and enjoyed dinner at each others' homes, went to local attractions, helped celebrate Stephanie's first birthday, and so on.

This took "open adoption" to all new levels and all we knew was that it felt great. I hadn't realized that as a prospective adoptive mother it was my job to convince parents, various family members, friends and coworkers that everything would be fine while inside dying a thousand deaths thinking that something might in fact go wrong. Questions from family members with arched eyebrows like "Are you sure?" and "Well, what if..." though lovingly intended were painfully unconstructive.

Even some who were supportive met resistance from me, like my sister-in-law who lovingly and graciously offered to give me a baby shower. Call it superstition, nerves, or what you will, but I just couldn't.

My husband and I decorated the nursery, bought clothes and supplies, and anxiously awaited the big day. After MANY visits to the doctor and running 2 weeks past the due date I became almost frantic. Thoughts about the baby being okay, Brenda and Mark changing their minds, and our ability to be good parents if all went well, plagued me constantly.

Finally the big day came. My mother watched Stephanie in the waiting room while Mark and I joined Brenda in the delivery room. My husband, a doctor in a small group, could not be spared due to an emergency and wasn't with us for the delivery.

After the monitors were hooked up Mark and I were soon escorted out of the room while an emergency team hurried in. The baby's cord was wrapped around his neck and with every contraction his heart rate went to zero.

Mom and I held each other and wept, fearing the worst. Stephanie continued to play with her toys. It couldn't end this way, I thought.

When it seemed like an eternity had passed a nurse said Mark and I could go back in. Brenda was glad to see us and after a few more hard contractions a blue, but soon to be pink and perfect, baby boy was born.

At Brenda's urging I was the first to hold him. My life has never been the same since. Nine pounds and thirteen ounces of love and responsibility was soon to be officially ours. It was indescribable. That night we got great pictures of Brenda eating the crab claws we'd promised as we all sipped champagne. Little did we know there was another obstacle to overcome.

The hospital where Brenda delivered William, our son, didn't condone adoption. They did all in their power to convince Brenda and Mark that they were making the wrong decision. Brenda asked me to spend the night so I could take care of the baby, much to the chagrin of the nurses.

The hospital's "clean up hitter", the social worker, flew into the room and upon finding out who I was immediately evacuated me. She not only conducted the required interview with the birthparents, but also pressed hard to get them to change their minds.

What she didn't know was that Brenda was more full of conviction than most and that she felt completely comfortable with her adoption decision. If the social worker had taken the time to actually LISTEN to Brenda she might have found it interesting and poignant to note that Brenda had been adopted herself. Brenda and Mark signed the necessary hospital paperwork and Brenda and I settled in for the night with the new baby.

The next day Brenda's sense of humor hit its peak when she said I should take William and go to the new mother's class, begging for a full report. Entering the room with my new baby on the cart and sitting beside other new mothers I began to notice my small frame, and worse yet, flat stomach, were being glared at. one brave soul asked when my son had been born and when I announced he was born the day before, the looks I got were not unlike that of a lynch mob. They put down the rope when I came clean with the whole truth. Brenda loved it.

After the requisite legal time period, our attorney and paralegal made their appearance at the hospital. They met privately with Brenda and Mark to confirm their decision was final and without duress or remorse. Our "Matchmaker" carried William out of the hospital beside Brenda in her wheelchair. Rob and I gave Brenda and Mark our hugs, thanks, and an invitation to come see the baby soon. There were tears, but they were happy ones.

The next ten months were a blur of diapers, feedings, lack of sleep, enough pictures to fill five big albums, happy visits with Mark, Brenda and Stephanie, and our families. Soon Baby Will was walking and talking - a dead ringer for Cupid with his golden curls. We knew another boy would make our family complete. Two years apart seemed just right, so I contacted Lou, our "matchmaker". The search was shelved until the appropriate time (about four more months).

Something made me call Lou about two months before she was to bring us up for consideration. Coincidentally, Megan, a new birthmother had been to visit Lou just that morning. She was young, unmarried, and due to have a child of unknown gender about four months before our desired due date. This may not sound like a perfect match to you, but no one outguesses our matchmaker.

Lou insisted that Megan would be our ideal match because she was looking for an open adoption, lived in the area, and in fact looked a good deal like Brenda. She also had Brenda's tenacious nature and a quick wit. We had complete faith in Lou and her sidekick (the something or SOMEONE who made me call that day) and relinquished all control.

We met with Megan and her stepmother at Lou's office. We all immediately hit it off and put our second adoption plan into effect. Meeting Megan's family was great fun, as was introducing Megan to Brenda.

This time when my sister-in-law offered to give a baby shower I accepted with pleasure. She outdid herself. Everything about it was perfect and it proved to be a beautiful celebration with friends and family.

Doctor's visits, shopping trips, special meals and other events quickly led to the fateful day at the hospital. Mom was once again in town to offer much needed support and this time the labor was at night so Rob could join in the fun. Brenda and Stephanie didn't want to miss out so we all anxiously waited in the delivery room and waiting area.

In the early morning hours we all got a little punchy and started to "play" with other people in the waiting room. Brenda got one woman's attention then pointed to Stephanie and said, "Do you see that little girl?" The woman nodded and Brenda quipped, "She's my daughter but (putting her arm around me) this is her brother's mother." Realizing Brenda was up for a little fun I added, "Yes, and our first child was the second child born and our second child is about to be the first child born." The poor woman was shaking her head and mumbling as she left for the elevator.

Megan had a very difficult labor but finally Janie appeared weighing eight pounds, nine ounces and scoring a perfect 10 on her Apgar test. We were thrilled with our beautiful daughter.

Fortunately, this hospital was more "adoption-friendly". Megan was steadfast in her decision and her family supported her. We left the hospital as we had with Will, adding an invitation for Megan and her entire family to join us for a big pool party in six weeks.

Throughout both adoptions my mother has been the greatest source of support not only for me, but for both birthmothers. This has not gone unrewarded because she enjoys a close relationship with all of us. Her shoebox full of pictures is crowded with shots of not only her beautiful grandchildren, but also those of their birthmothers. Some of her friends "glaze over" and shake their heads that this open communication can't be possible or good. she just tells them the truth...it's both. By the way, don't run into my mother or any of the other grandparents with less than an hour to spare. Their pictures and stories go on and on, and they are all thrilled with our new family.

We continue to be very close to our birthmothers, or should I say, birthfamilies. Brenda recently underwent surgery and Megan escorted her to and from the hospital then back to our house for rest and recovery. They were chatting with people at the hospital about me and when asked what my relationship was to them, they decided to refer to me as their "birthsister". I've never been so flattered.

Rob, Will, Janie and I are a family now. Our extended family includes grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins and birthparents, and Will puts it best as he throws up his little arms and says, "It's great!"

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