By Erin, adopting mama

I have not written a post in two weeks, even though I’ve thought about it almost every day. This adoption process is getting to me, and thinking about it too much, and writing about it, makes me sad. Here is a list of excuses – feel sorry for me if you will!

There is nothing to tell – our profile is active, but there are no matches. We are considering going through our profile and our book and making some changes to see if that can help.

Isaac, our 3-year-old, is having the worst sleep problems I have ever encountered. He has always had some sleep problems, but these issues make everything in the past seem like nothing! It’s been at least two months of him taking hours to fall asleep, waking up multiple times each night, taking no naps at home, and having night terrors due to utter exhaustion. We have gone to the doctor, tried a million things, and are now starting to get some results, but it has been exhausting and all-consuming. Sometimes I believe that we don’t have our baby at home with us now because we are not ready – we were ready this summer and early September, but it seems like the Universe knows that our family can’t handle a baby at this time. Hopefully we will get these sleep issues worked out so we will be ready for a new person in our family soon!

Michael has worked a million hours at his main job as a Realtor, and his second job as a bartender lately. It’s great, because the money is sorely needed, but it makes dealing with the sleep issues that much harder for me.

Extended family drama continues. Enough said.

So, do you feel sorry for me yet? Just wait . . . I had a birthday this month – I turned 34. I did not think I would be 34 (and my husband pushing 40) and still be building my family. Now, there was a time that I thought I would not get married until my mid thirties and have kids much later, after I got tenure, when I was on the professor track. All of that changed, however, when I met Michael. We met right when I turned 25, got married a month before I turned 27, and started trying to get pregnant a year later – I was barely 28. Isaac was born right before I turned 31. Now, I know this is not old, but on our “track”, I should have had at least two children by now, and either be pregnant with number three now, be thinking about number three, or know that we were finished! I have been working on family building for six and a half years, and we only have one child. It’s amazing and very sad. I would not, of course, change a thing since it brought us Isaac, but it’s been a long journey, and we are not done yet! I just found out that an acquaintance of mine is accidentally pregnant during a time that is, to say the least, very bad for a surprise pregnancy. I hate to feel bitter, and I know that someone else’s pregnancy does not affect my ability to have children, but it hurts. It stings to know how badly I, and so many others, desperately want children and will try almost anything to get them, and some people get pregnant when it’s the very last thing that they want or need.

We are on our way to Dallas for Thanksgiving. We will see family members with new babies – babies that I cannot WAIT to see. But still, I can’t help but think, we SHOULD have another baby too. In fact, if the last adoption situation had worked out, we would be in Dallas with our new baby for all to meet. This trip will be wonderful I’m sure, but hard for me. The old infertile feelings are back, and I hate them. I hate feeling worthless about my inability to have a baby. I hate feeling bitter and angry about other people’s good fortune. I hate wincing at the sight or mention of a pregnancy. I hate feeling inadequate. I hate trying to explain our situation to people who have no ability or desire to really understand.

Despite all of this, at this Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for. I am thankful for my beautiful and amazing little family – an unbelievable husband and the greatest kid I could ever ask for. Even with our problems, I am thankful for a loving and supportive extended family – especially my amazing mother and fantastic sister! I am thankful for this beautiful town I live in, for the many friends that enrich my life, for the health and relative happiness I experience every day, and, although it is difficult at times, for the ability to pursue the adoption of our next child. I am so thankful that we have the resources, support, and ability to pursue this adoption. Another child is in our future, whenever that might be.

By Erin, adoption blogger

Ok, I think I am ready to write about this. It’s been a difficult few weeks. We had an adoptive situation fall through a few months ago, but it lasted only 24 hours and turned really crazy at the end, so it was a bit of a relief when we said no and the birth mother changed her mind. This was a different story.

About three weeks ago, we were notified that our family was chosen by a birth mother. We learned some preliminary information, and asked to receive the full packet on the birth family. We first learned that we were chosen by this birth mother on October 6, a Monday. We had to wait for some medical records to come in, and by that Friday, we received the packet in the mail. We had a lot of questions, so called to talk to the social worker in charge of the case. Our social worker was out of the office on Friday, and the following Monday was Columbus Day. What a HARD wait! We were able to get a bit more information from the director, but we still had more questions. We had to wait until TUESDAY – I thought I would crack under the pressure. At that point, we had known about this adoption for 9 days, but were unable to clarify information that would help us make a final decision. We told my sister and brother-in-law, who are our go-to people with regards to support and information on this process since they just went through it, and one other friend who lives out of town. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops, because I was SO sure it was going to work out. I restrained myself, but it was hard.

On Tuesday, October 14, our 7^th wedding anniversary and in the midst of a huge stress fight, we were finally able to talk to the social worker. We found out more background and health information, and we BOTH started to feel REALLY positive that this might be our baby. We were ready to sign the commitment letter and have our personal loan dispersed to cover the next set of fees, but we wanted the social worker to clarify one more piece of information for us. We were sure it was fine, but decided to ask just in case. We made up from our fight, and Michael actually started to get excited (that’s really what the fight was about)! We took Isaac over to my parent’s house so we could go out and celebrate our anniversary. Before we left for dinner, we told them the news – “We think we have a baby. The birth mother is scheduled for a c-section on November 13. It’s a baby GIRL!” My mother was so excited she jumped up and down and almost cried. We left their house beaming, and continued to talk about our plans, the new baby, possible names, and how to work out all of the travel plans, throughout the night. We are planning to go to Dallas for Thanksgiving anyway, so we knew we would drive to Dallas around the 11^th, spend the night, drive on the San Antonio, meet the new baby, stay in San Antonio for as long as we needed to in order to get the clear to travel, go back to Dallas, celebrate Thanksgiving with all of Michael’s sisters and friends, and come home as soon as the paperwork cleared. It could not have worked out more perfectly in regards to timing. Yes, I am a planner. We even had plans for my Mom to fly to San Antonio to help us with Isaac! This was all mapped out in my head within days of receiving the news. I tried so hard not to do too much planning, but it’s hard to keep yourself from doing what comes naturally!

By Friday afternoon, I had restrained myself from buying any girl clothes, but I had made a packing list. Our social worker could not get in touch with the birth mother by phone, but had a meeting with her on Friday afternoon. By Thursday evening, we could not wait anymore, and we made the announcement to Michael’s parents and sisters. I’m sure you remember how many problems we had with Michael’s parents regarding this adoption. Well, Michael’s mother was moved to tears – in a good way! Everything was going wonderfully . . . Even Isaac was excited about his “new baby sister” that would be coming to live with us soon.

Friday afternoon – things had been in the works for 12 days. We still had not signed our commitment letter, because we were waiting to clarify that final piece of information. The birth mother had a doctor’s appointment in the late morning and then came into the agency. Our social worker had gone home sick, so the director was working with us instead. She called us. The birth mom wanted to talk to us on the phone – were we ready to sign the papers? We said we still had not heard from the social worker regarding that final piece of information. The director said she had emailed it that morning, but we had not received it . . . Everything that came next happened in a rush and in slow motion, all at the same time –

We are on the phone with the director.

Birth mother is waiting in the next room at the agency, ready to talk to us on the phone.

Director finds email from social worker, forwards it and reads it aloud on the phone.

Deafening silence from us.

Heart starts to crumble.

Let us call you back in just a minute.

Read email.

Re-read email.

Look at each other.

Phone rings – it’s the Director. Birth Mother is waiting – are we ready?

Give us 10 more minutes.

Frantic phone call to sister.

Frantic phone calls to friends with professional knowledge of specific situation.

Wait.

Everything stops.

Wait.

It should not be this hard.

I look at Michael. We can’t do this. He looks at me. We can’t do this.

Call director.

We can’t do this. We can’t do this. We can’t do this.

Heart is breaking.

A small piece of my heart has been taken by this experience. Our adoption just became ten times harder. The numbness is easing. The sadness is receding. The birth mother found another family, and they will be the perfect family for this baby. There are so many emotions – grief, guilt, sadness, guilt, disappointment, guilt, guilt, guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt. Thanksgiving will be hard – no new baby to join our family. Our baby is out there. The time will come. The guilt, sadness, and disappointment will slowly ease. There will always be a piece of this November 13^th baby girl in my heart, but thankfully, my heart is big enough for more.

By Erin, mama to Isaac and adopting

Writing this blog has been harder than I ever thought it would be. With all of the adoption prep work behind us, the wait for a baby is actually quite boring. We might be getting closer to a match, but there is nothing to tell right now. We have been officially “waiting” for almost exactly five months – not that long to wait if you consider that a full-term pregnancy takes nine months. Of course, as I have said before, that does not count all the time that went into getting to the official wait – about two years of soul searching and six months of paperwork and prep work!

So my goal has been to get the house and our family ready for a new baby, whenever he or she might join us. Again, harder than I thought it would be. It’s hard to be motivated when you have no reason to believe it could happen anytime soon. The one thing we are making progress on, is Isaac’s understanding that a baby will be joining our family sometime soon. Most of the time, when asked if we are going to have a baby, he responds with a positive yes, and a small amount of excitement. Sometimes he says no, and gets upset at the mere mention of it. Lately, though, we can get him to talk about the baby with a bit more interest – the baby will cry; the baby will drink from a bottle; the baby will sleep a lot (we hope); you will be a big brother; we will be the baby’s Mama and Daddy too . . . Last night, we found a baby doll that I got for him about a year ago – he’s never shown any interest in it. We played with the baby for a minute, and handled it carefully, and then he threw it on the bed, jumped on its head as he started jumping on the bed (unintentionally, I hope), and ignored my attempts to have him gently put the baby out of the way. Oh well, got to take your successes were they come, right?

There are things happening in our life, and I will have more to write soon – stay tuned in!

By Erin, adopting mama blogger

Well, Isaac turned 3 last Saturday. I can’t believe it. He picked out a Dora cake, and we had a great day of presents, Fayetteville Farmer’s Market, and a small pizza party in the evening. Writing his birth story really threw me for a loop – I could not stop thinking about my time on bedrest, his birth, and the months after his birth. When Isaac turned 1, I had a difficult emotional reaction. I kept reliving all of the drama, and it was hard on me. Also, at Isaac’s first birthday, we still based his age in terms of his adjusted age – the age he SHOULD have been, rather than how many months he really was. Since Isaac was almost 3 ½ months early, as his first birthday approached, he was really like a 9-month-old in terms of size and development. We gave him some cake, but he was really too young to know what to do or to enjoy it. By the time he turned 2, Isaac had pretty much caught up to his “true” age – we did not need to adjust his age to consider his prematurity any longer. His second birthday was not difficult for me – I did not “relive” his birth or time in the hospital. It really did not cross my mind that much. This year, once again, I have been haunted by all it took to get him where he is today. This was enhanced by the fact that an acquaintance of mine just gave birth to a 26-week preemie in Little Rock. Writing his birth story was cathartic, and I think very necessary, but it was difficult, and caused me to reflect deeply on all that occurred. Michael and I talked and talked about it, and neither of us have very clear memories of the hours between my flight to Little Rock and Isaac’s birth the next morning at 6:49 a.m. Michael read my version, and he thinks I got it mostly right, so we will stick with it as “official”!

After Isaac was born, they whisked him away to get him breathing and hooked up to critical machinery and medicines. My parents and Michael’s parents arrived soon after he was born. After about thirty minutes, they were able to bring Isaac (unnamed at this point) for us to quickly see him.

This is his very first picture – I think it’s amazing. The family gathered around, as Michael and I carefully looked at our beautiful, yet eerily small and strange looking, new son. We were thrilled, proud, in love, and scared to death. We were exhausted. To me, this picture looks EXACTLY like Isaac – I can see him in his face and hands. It’s interesting how our experiences change us, but now I find tiny micro-preemies to be the most beautiful of babies – so fragile, so tiny, so amazingly perfect, so full of vast amounts of strength and fortitude – they amaze me. They just shut out the world the best that they can and work and work to grow and develop – it’s hard work even INSIDE the womb, but outside . . . Isaac was a fully intense being from the moment he was born. He did NOT want to be bothered – micro-preemies cannot stand noise or touch of any kind, they need quiet, dark and the minimum of handling in order to keep from being over-stimulated. We used to joke that Isaac would stop breathing (yes, he would) if we just LOOKED at him the wrong way. Mostly, we just sat by his isolette (modern term for incubator) and watched him, and finally, as he got bigger and stronger, got to touch him and hold him. I will NEVER forget the first time I changed his diaper, through the port holes of the isolette, while he was still on a ventilator, and UPSIDE down. Yes, we did not flip him, we just changed his diaper while he was on his tummy – the teeniest little diapers you have ever seen – and CHEERED because it was full of pee and weighed enough on the scale! (you have to measure output to make sure systems are functioning properly)

Back to the story – we got to see Isaac, and then they took him the level three NICU to get him situated and hooked up to every wire, cord, tube, and needle, that you can imagine. Michael left shortly after that to go to the NICU while I got cleaned up and moved to the Mother and Baby ward. If I had been slightly ignored before, this is where my presence almost went unnoticed! Throughout the next two days, I got almost zero attention (accept from the lactation consultant who was teaching me to start pumping). One night, I had to ask 4 times for ADVIL – yeesh! My room was tiny, and some of the rooms do not even have a shower – you have to walk down the hall! Luckily, my room had a shower, and later in the evening I was able to take the first shower in about 3 ½ weeks (I did not bathe after my first 2 weeks on bedrest). I shaved my hairy, hairy legs, and it took two disposable razors to get through the jungle (and I’m not even very hairy). Before the shower, and the visit with the lactation consultant, I was finally able to get to the NICU to see my son. I had only seen him for about 2 minutes after he was born, and I was so anxious to see what the NICU was like, meet the doctors and nurses, and of course, see my darling baby boy. Here I am seeing him for the 2^nd time – this time I got to touch him and stay with him for a while. Yes, that is plastic wrap – they put that over the warming beds to keep the heat in. These babies cannot regulate their temperatures, but they are too tiny and have too many medical needs to go into an isolette yet.

In the next couple of days, we decided on a name (Isaac Levi), I started pumping in earnest, and our families went home for a while. I was discharged from the hospital (basically feeling like I had never been pregnant), and we moved into the UAMS Family Home. Isaac required surgery, and was transferred to Arkansas Children’s Hospital, where we had to start figuring everything out again.

The next 98 days would continue to hold the same fear, awe, love, and exhaustion. Isaac stayed in the hospital for 99 days – he came home just 2 days before his original due date. He spent 7 days at UAMS, 7 weeks at Children’s Hospital just down the road in Little Rock, and a final six weeks at Washington Regional in Fayetteville. He received the best care anyone could ever hope for their child. Now, he is a rambunctious and completely “normal” three year old little boy. He’s amazing, and I thank God, the Universe, and modern science and medicine for him every day – even when he won’t take a nap!