The Exhale

She went back to Georgia today with her darling five-year-old daughter. The birthmother of our son, as it turns out, is homeless and will be living in a women's shelter for the time being.

It is still hard for me to reconcile our two lives. Only a couple few weeks ago, we met S and she asked us to be her son's family. Nine days ago he was born, beautiful and healthy with lots of dark hair, gorgeous big brown eyes, and the most delicious skin. Just one week ago, S signed over her parental rights and Asher officially became our son! That day, and for several days following, I felt like I could exhale. The night he was born S changed her mind about not wanting to spend much time with him. We were told, while in the waiting room, that she did want him to spend the night in her room with her. At that point I think Mitch and I both kind of felt like giving up--it was hard to not think of this as a replay of the Indiana situation. Another lesson in trusting God, and I don't think I scored very high marks. After he was born, we were able to spend time with him and give him his first bath. Looking back, I truly enjoyed that time, but did not allow myself to bond with this baby who was not really mine yet. While in the nursery we received word that S had changed her mind again back to the original plan. We would be able to keep him with us in a hospital room all night! Grateful as we were, I wouldn't really let myself think this was a "good sign."

The following day S spent a little time with Asher by herself. During that time I could only think how heart-wrenching it must be for her to spend time with him, knowing she was going to give him to us. And then I'd quickly start to doubt that this was going to actually go through and get all panicky again. By this point I was a little more invested in the little guy having spent many hours together.

Later that day, S and the social worker came to our room for a little more time with us and the baby. She gave us some gifts for him, including many cute outfits, bath towels and washcloths, and a package of diapers. I was overwhelmed and vowed to myself that she'd receive pictures of him in these tiny clothes that she chose specifically for our son.

Looking back, I wonder what we did with all those hours and days we spent in the hospital with Asher and without him. We made the hard decision to have our other three children come up to the hospital to meet him. They were SO excited! I wanted to be as excited, but couldn't help thinking that I might be hurting them in the long run if this turns out to not be their brother after all. Grandparents came and visited, as did some friends. It was all very much like the births of my other kids in some ways. He spent the second night with us in the hospital room and it started to feel like this might really happen.

The following morning, S walked over to our room, alone. She delivered a card she had written to him which is beautiful and touching. I know he will always treasure that. She also gave him his middle name. Immanuel. God with us. We love his middle name and it has become a reminder for us to pray that S and her daughter will know the power of God with (all of) us.

A short time later the paperwork was signed. The process of that took about an hour, and the wonderful adoption agency basically babysat us during that hard time. You can tell they are counselors and we didn't even care that we could tell we were being counseled :). It is too hard to write about all the emotions felt during those minutes and hours. One woman signing her parental rights away. Another, with her husband, accepting this baby as his parents forever. Bittersweet doesn't even come close.

One of the sweetest, most unexpected and healing things happened just before we were all discharged. At the hospital, a photographer takes pictures of babies and their families. I was intially thinking this would be the typical baby mug shot and not that interested. Oh no. These are full on, gorgeous photographs. We were all in S's room and the photographer so gently handled the situation. She first asked S to hold Asher and took some beautiful photos of the two of them together. I know this was hard for her, but I am so very grateful to have those pictures. Next she took some of Mitch with him. During that time, S was standing next to me. She is such a quiet person, and hadn't really verbalized much about her personal feelings on placing her son with us. Watching Mitch wish Asher, however, she said something like, "That is what he needs. He needs a daddy." To have that moment captured with those pictures is truly priceless to me. The process of taking those photographs-first of S and Asher, then Mitch with him, then me, then Mitch and I with him, was what we needed. We were told later by our wonderful agency social worker that it was healing for S, as well. I honestly can't even do justice to how much I value those pictures.

Soon after, we all left the hospital separately. We did not say official goodbyes to S, and I think she wanted it that way. She had some time alone with Asher and did say goodbye to him. I cannot imagine.

And now we've had this week with him as our son! Only in the last day or so can I look at him and not, every single time, think about and grieve for her. I still think about her every day. Especially this day. She and her daughter are headed "home," whatever that means. My understanding is that she does not have much support from family or friends and does not have a home. We have struggled with the feeling that we are taking advantage of her poverty, which is a horrible feeling. The agency helped us remember that we are her way of providing for him. She wants this for him. She wants US for him.

Hard to write any more. I thought the emotions weren't as fresh as last week, but reliving it brings it all up again. If you are reading this, please keep S in your prayers. We so desperately want her to feel peace and, above all, God's ever-loving arms around her.