Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Placement Pt.2


I had my first doctor’s appointment not too long after choosing Jon and Liz, having received my insurance information. I was able to get into a female doctor who was kind and very outspoken. The initial visit was with her NP and she was also a very fun woman. Though that visit was not fun (I had a good 6 months of doctor’s visits to catch up on), I was given a form so that I could have my first ultrasound and I knew exactly who I wanted to come with me.
                I asked Jon and Liz to come, as well as my sisters Kate (even though we were fighting) and Sarah (or maybe Sarah just tagged along), as well as Dawn. We went in together and I think the people at the center were wondering about my entourage. It was kind of fun.
                We found out almost immediately that it was a he and that he was a gigantic baby. He was measuring large and everything was going fine. We tried to see his face through the images but he insisted on covering his face and turning away. Which is exactly what I do when I don’t want my picture taken. It was a fun and scary experience. I was afraid something would be wrong and that it would show up on the scan. I hadn’t really taken care of myself in the months leading up to this point, though I started to take prenatals in January.
 I was scared that the people around me would laugh at my rapidly expanding, exposed belly and the exposed violently red stretchmarks. But no one did, and for that I was grateful. I honestly don’t think they were paying attention to me. Most eyes were fixed on the screen with someone occasionally asking if I was doing ok. For the most part, yes I was.
                I gave the scan images to Jon and Liz to take home and show family. I was happy for them and confused at the same time. This was a lot harder than I thought and I wished that I could be one of those uncaring mothers who just decided that they didn’t want their babies. But I wasn’t and around the same time, maybe a little bit earlier, than the ultrasound, I began going to a birthmother support group with my parents and felt a kinship with these women. They knew what I was going through, even if I didn’t talk too much at first. Did I mention that I’m awkward?
                In the group I made a few friends. More acquaintances. We talked a lot in group but not really outside of it. Except for Liz. This being a different Liz from the adoptive mother. Group Liz, she shall be referred to from here on out, I suppose. It can get confusing very easily!
                Group Liz and I hit it off and began hanging out outside of group. She was going through her second placement and knew exactly what I was going through and was able to help me a lot.  Regardless of what I felt, she knew what it felt like and could actually relate to it. I think having her in my life was the reason I was able to go through the placement in general. She was that steady rock I could fall back on and text through the long nights when I felt that there was no one there, when I just needed a friend.
                From the time of my first ultra to my due date, we saw a good half dozen movies, had dinner together with my couple and helped move from my old apartment with my sister to my new living arrangement in an…interesting house. (I saw we helped. In fact, we just sat on the couch and watched my dad and his home teacher move things. We’re useful!)
                After a while of going to group and various appointments, it came down to due date. By my last period, I was due in June. But I knew that was wrong, so it became a mad search for the phone in which was a text record that actually had a text about everything. After moving, I finally found it and by that date we were able to deduce that I was due on May 9th of 2012. It was exciting and scary. Jon and Liz had to cancel a vacation that was around that same time to make sure they were here when he was born.
                Together (and through the suggestion of Group Liz), we came up with Jaden Christopher as the baby’s name. Christopher being my father’s name, I felt that at least my first born should bear that name, or some family name. It was actually a pain staking process coming up with that. I widled it down to Barrett (a family name on my grandmother’s side as well as my own middle name) or Christopher. I ran both by Jon and Liz. They left the final choice up to me, but I loved going through that process with them. It made me feel like, even though I wouldn’t be there for him always, he would know that I helped name him. That he shouldn’t feel that I abandoned him.
                Which is a fear of mine. That, even though this adoption is open, he will grow to resent me for placing him. I know it is foolish, but it is that fear and the fear that one day Jon and Liz will decide they no longer want me in their lives that keeps me awake at night. More on that one later.
                Groups with Jon and Liz and the other birth mothers was becoming routine, with dinners afterwards. After my last ultrasound (not to mention a pedi with Liz), I got to the point where not only did I not want to go to work (walking to work was not fun. Waddling was really no fun, either.  I over stretched a tendon in my groin that made every leg movement on my left side painful over time. I was having appointments twice a week to get an NST as well as an ultrasound to check on the general wellbeing of Jaden. My doctor was still unsure about my due date, since I was measuring different and so was he.
Working was hell. I work at a convenience store where everyone is an ass and no one is nice to you. Unless, of course, you’re pregnant and they just yelled at you. I got sick of it very quickly, especially since my boss was of the mind that pregnant women should bend and lift. After consulting with my doctor, and Group Liz, we decided that I should go on Maternity leave on May 1st. I was relieved but scared. I was in a new place. Group Liz helped me through some of that and that time was when we saw the majority of our films and spent the majority of our time together. Even though I lived in Mesa and she lived in Queen Creek.
                Honestly, those last two weeks were the most terrifying. I wasn’t sure what I would feel when he got there and continued to mull over who I wanted in the delivery room with me. Being allowed three, I could have Jon and Liz (who were the constant two regardless) and Dawn (my stepmom), or those two and my oldest sister Bre or or or. There were too many people who wanted to be there and a limited number I could have. I knew I wanted Jon and Liz for sure but…
                I was also scared about what labor would feel like, how I would know and all that jazz. I had a book about it, of course, but I felt that even though the book was thoroughly informative it was also slightly terrifying. “If you’re feeling like X you could have Y which means that C is happening to the baby.” Not something I need to hear on a first pregnancy that had late prenatal care as well as it just being allover unplanned.
                While all of this was happening, my caseworker and I were having a time with getting the birth father’s consent. I had taken a trip down to Tuscon for a convention in March and that is where he happened to live. We got together at the hotel to talk about the adoption, Jon and Liz and whether or not he would consent. After a lot of talking, he finally agreed to it. Verbally at least, and I tried to set a date for me and my caseworker to come down to sign the papers. He kept putting it off.
                There are some things that you can do to get the birth father to sign away his rights to the child, including having him served. He has 30 days to respond to this, after which, if he does not respond, his rights are forfeit. If he responds within 30days, then the case would be taken to court, to see, I guess, who would be the more fit parent.
                After about three weeks of dicking us around, the birth father declared that he had changed his mind and he was determined that with a little can do attitude, a car and a stroller, he could raise Jaden with little to no problem. This irked me, because theoretically, I could do that too. I could have a can do attitude too. I can do it. But what kind of life would that leave him with? So no, I want him to have the life he was meant to have. I want him to have a mother and a father that are with him every day growing up loving and caring for him. Not a father who didn’t want him but decided to keep him.
                So my caseworker, Calli, and I began to search for him to serve him. It took some digging, trickery and elbow grease, but we were finally able to serve papers. (More trickery than anything). And because of the month waiting period, it wouldn’t be until June 4th until Jon and Liz would know for sure whether or not that little bundle of joy was going to be part of their family for good or not. We set it up so that they could foster him after leaving the hospital during this time.
                During this time, I could have taken him home. I will cover this again, but let me cover it now.
                During this time, I could have taken him home and kept him with the understanding that Jon and Liz were his parents. Group Liz took her baby girl home the night before the placement firm in her understanding that her couple were the people meant for her child.
                I, too, was and still am sure that Jon and Liz are the people that are meant to raise Jaden. They are his parents. But there is a certain amount of bonding that happens between a mother and child, even when he is first placed on her stomach after delivery. Biology can sometimes win out over your decisions.
So on May 12th, Birthmother’s Day, Jon and Liz and I went out for a nice Chipotle lunch. We talked about boundaries when baby J finally arrived. Again, I was afraid that I would overwhelm them with my questions, my need for pictures and just overall my presence as they settled into a new life with Jaden. They assured me that they would be there when I needed it, whether it be with pictures, a visit (when possible- they were moving) or just a little blurb about how he was doing that day. I set boundaries later on with my family regarding what was acceptable contact and what was not. I gave Liz a Mother’s Day present that day, as well as a bear for Jaden. It was a bear my dad had given me after a trip to London. For Christmas, he had given me a matching bear, which was larger. I called them Mommy and Baby bears. That way, at least he had a little piece of me with him as he grew, and I had the matching piece.
                I woke up on Mother’s Day with some cramps. A lot like period cramps. I texted my sister Bre to ask her about labor and what to look out for. The book I had could only tell me so much and they weren’t very descriptive about labor. So after a walk to the local Circle K, dinner and increasing cramps, I felt my first real contraction. I started tracking and alerting those who needed to be alerted. Jon and Liz prepared to meet me at the hospital when I sent word for them and by 8pm, I was about 15-20 minutes apart. I was taken over to my parent’s home where I tried to sleep. But whenever I drifted off, I began to contract.
                From about 11pm when everyone else went to sleep, until about 6am, I lay on the couch downstairs in full blown labor. Which let me tell you is the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I texted my sister Sarah at about 6am and asked if she was up. I honestly could have gone upstairs and woken them up at any time but I felt bad… I was up but that didn’t mean that they should be too. She grabbed my stepmom and at about 6:30am, we were on our way to the hospital.
                I alerted Jon and Liz and Dawn alerted my dad, who had left for travel. He was luckily, stuck on his way to Chicago and able to catch a flight home. I silently prayed and verbally joked that I hoped Jaden would wait for him to get there. I mean, I was in a lot of pain before the epidural. I didn’t want to wait for anyone but Jon and Liz at that point.
               

1 comment:

  1. Kinzie,
    I love reading your story! And you are right, you are a good storyteller. And your story is awesome, as are you.

    ReplyDelete