my baby boy

Our family has been planning to adoption for almost a year and was matched with a birth mom on October 2.  Getting that phone call that our family was chosen was so exciting...we would be welcoming a new little one into our house.  It was very similar to getting the positive pregnancy test...pure joy and excitement.  I cried, we laughed, we danced, we called our families, and then we started planning.

For months we prepared for this little one...we explained adoption to the kids, made a count down chain, went through clothes, purchased necessities, and gave him a name.  We named him Brady James....even though I was scared of committing to his name, he was always Brady James.  Brady is a name Matt has loved for years and James is for my mother's dad, my Papa.  It fit with our family and the kids loved it...they told everyone about him, yes everyone, and never just called him "Brady", it was always "Brady James."

As our birth mom hit thirty-seven weeks I was able to breathe a small sigh of comfort.  She had made it long enough in the pregnancy for him to be healthy and Janet was with us to help with the twins!  We were ready!  We had the carseat installed and the bags packed... several of them.  They were full of clothes for the baby, big sibling gifts, projects to work on in the hotel, supplies for the baby - diapers, pacifiers, bottles....you name it we had it covered!  The only thing we would have to do when we got the phone call was pack our own clothes and put everything in the car.

We waited.  We knew everything was still ok, we got updates about the doctor's appointments but there were no signs of no progress toward labor so we were expecting a c-section or an induction.  The birth mom had let the social worker know that she was ready to have him and was happy we were excited.  The weekend before the due date felt like it lasted MUCH longer than two days...the birth mom had an appointment on Monday morning and we were supposed to find out the plan for delivery.

The morning of February 23 we heard from the social worker that the birth mom was just waiting for a call for the doctor to see if she needed to go in that day.  The weather wasn't great so it wasn't unusual.  We took advantage of having everyone home for a snow day by playing outside in the snow, playing games with the kids, and making sure all the laundry was done.  About 4 that afternoon I finally got a call from the social worker but it wasn't what I expected: "Katherine, I found her.  She is at the hospital having the baby, she was induced this morning.  I can't get ahold of her but I will keep trying and let you guys know what is going on."

I felt like I had been punched.  What did this mean?  What did we do?  This isn't how this was supposed to go!  Matt and I decided, against the social workers recommendation, to go ahead and start the drive...it is an eight hour trip and the weather wasn't great so we figured we would get a few hours of good driving in before we had to stop.  But I couldn't move...I sunk to the floor and called my mom.  I don't remember most of what I said, I remember crying and telling her how scared I was.  I wanted to be hopeful but I was filled with so much doubt.  The whole situation was different than any of us had planned.  I managed to shower and get packed but I couldn't tell you what I put in those bags.  We told the kids that we were going to get their baby brother, said a prayer as a family, and loaded into the car.

The entire drive I felt like I could hardly breathe.  The minutes seemed to crawl by and I felt like we couldn't get down the road fast enough.  Every time by phone made a noise we both jumped...hoping or dreading it was the social worker.  The roads were terrible which didn't help with our stressful mood.  We were both so anxious.  I was so thankful for the radio...I needed some sort of noise to drown out my thoughts but I couldn't keep a coherent conversation.  Those few hours were gut wrenching.

Then the call came...the one I have dreaded the most since we started this process.  "Katherine, she changed her mind.  She said she can't give away her baby."  I know the conversation was longer but I couldn't focus and I was fighting back tears.  My mind was a whirlwind of questions but few that I could vocalize.  Our social worker didn't have many answers...she didn't even know if he had been born yet.  She was so supportive and apologetic but she didn't understand either.  I hung up as I burst into tears...big, ugly, fat, sobbing tears.  The kind that happen when a piece of you has been ripped away.  I didn't have words, I didn't have thoughts, I didn't have control - just ugly tears.  It hurt so much.

I didn't have to tell Matt what I wanted or needed and I am thankful for that.  He knew that the best place for us to go was home.  He turned the car around as soon as he could and kept driving on those awful roads.  He made the phone calls that I couldn't bring myself to make and he was able to keep composure when I was crumbling.  The drive back home was awful...I just kept thinking about that empty carseat behind me and how I was going to tell Bryce and Zoey in a way that they could understand.

Our house had reminders of our sweet boy everywhere but the hardest to look at was the crib in our room.  It was sitting there with the stuffed animals and books we purchased for him scattered in it, a reminder that he wouldn't sleep in it or be a part of our family.  The moment I saw it I crumbled again, it took all I had to close my eyes and try not to look at it as I laid in bed that night.  When Zoey ran to the crib looking for her baby brother at 5:30 the next morning I couldn't keep it together...she had just asked me where he was and why he wasn't in his bed.  Through the tears I told her how Brady's tummy mom chose to keep him instead of give him to us.  My sweet, innocent little girl just looked at my tears, wiped one away, and said "ooh, it makes me so sad too mommy".  We laid in bed together for a while - hugging with her rubbing my arm and me crying but neither one of us said a word.

The next few days were a blur.  I don't know when I got up, if I showered, if I ate, or what I said.  I didn't have the ability to talk to many people and when I did I don't really know what I said (except I do remember dropping the f-bomb with my mom...a word I never say).  I just was trying to process it all - what did this all mean, what happened, where do we go from here, do I want to try again, could I open my heart to another child, how do I explain this to my kids/family/friends, etc.  It was a lot to take in.  I was so blessed to have Janet with us so I could go through all of my emotions and processes without having to worry about taking care of my family.

Over the next several days the social workers called to check on us.  We chose to move forward with our adoption goals and are now on the list for a "drop in".  This means we will be notified if a mother chooses to place her child for adoption last minute.  Right now it is the best choice for us...I don't know that I could do another four-five month placement without being terrified that she would change her mind at birth.  It also wouldn't be fair to a child for me to be so guarded because of what we went through this time.  In the future it may be an option again but for now we will see where this leads our family.

Waiting for a new addition doesn't mean that we have forgotten about this little boy.  I will always know that my baby boy was born on February 23rd, 2015 and it will always break my heart to know that he couldn't come home with us.  I loved this little one so much, I envisioned my family with him as a part of it, and I knew how he would fit in.  He forever holds a part of my heart and I will always love him more than he will ever know.

I am not angry with the birth mom at all...in fact I completely understand.  I don't think we were played, or tricked, or lied to.  I honestly feel that until she had him she was going to place him for adoption with our family.  I can't blame her for changing her mind.  I don't want to let go of him either!

Each day has gotten a little easier but there are still moments.  It isn't always easy to hold it together and that is ok right now.  We have been blessed with so much support and I am so thankful for that.  Today was the first day we haven't had one of our moms here to help and we made it through...the house is a wreck and we ordered in dinner but we made it through.  We will continue to put one foot in front of the other and heal but never forget.

I love you Brady James.