Part 3 - The Aftermath: An Adoption Story

Here is the final post in Paige's 3 part series about her putting her son up for adoption. Thank you so much Paige for sharing your story with our blog! 

Part III—The Aftermath

There were so many tender mercies that happened during my post-partum period and it really reinforced that when God asks you to do impossible things, He will support you through it.  Actually, I could see the blessings when they were happening, but I was too miserable to care.  The appreciation and reinforcement came later, only stronger and in a different way than I experienced it as I lived it.  For example, I bought a puppy while I was pregnant, and even though I was mad at him for not being R when I got home from the hospital (rational, I know), that little dog never left my side while I was recovering from the cesarean and ended up being a huge blessing.  I needed him.  

The first night without R was the hardest.  The social worker came with the “no changing your mind after this” paperwork and with it, he brought me a present from S and K.  They had printed off all of the pictures from the hospital and like 100 more from that afternoon; there was also a scrapbook and all kinds of paper, stickers, and everything I could need to make a beautiful memory book of my time with R.  If I hadn’t already been crying, that totally would have made me cry!  Also, right before he came with the paperwork, a friend showed up with TCBY; he sat with me while I signed the papers, and then watched a movie with me—by that I mean he kept me company while I cried and cried and cried.

Because of the state laws, S, K and the boys had to stay in my state for two weeks after the birth.  They came to visit a few times, and that was another huge blessing.  I mean who wants to stop seeing their baby cold-turkey?  My whole family enjoyed that extra time and it was a good transition for me from “my baby” to “their baby,” even though he was always their baby.  I remember very well the last time I got to see him that trip.  K let me have a little alone time with him, so I took him up to my room, kind of curled up in a ball around him, and sang James Taylor’s “You’ve Got a Friend” to him.  My daddy use to sing my sisters and I to sleep with that one.  Taking him downstairs after that was almost as hard as handing him over at the hospital.  No words.

Over the next few months, I got to see R four or five times.  I really needed to see him that much in the beginning.  Even though I’ve only seen him a couple of times since he was one, not a day goes by that I don’t think about him and wonder what he’s doing and if he’s happy.  I love him just as much as I love my other children.  I hope he never doubts that and that some day he will understand that I made the decision I did because I love him.  Having my other children has definitely helped me heal; my arms don’t physically ache from being empty anymore.  I’m also pretty sure I appreciate my children more than I would have, and that makes me a better mother than I would have been without this experience.  So I guess that is the silver lining.  But like the death of a loved one, adoption for a birth mother is something that you don’t get over, you just get used to it.  

So there it is, my first and maybe only attempt to tell our adoption story.  I know I didn’t do it justice, that the pictures and feelings in my head and heart can’t really be communicated.  I guess if you get anything out of my story, I would want it to be that God cares about us individually.  He guides us to make the best decisions for our lives and our children’s lives, He puts specific people in our paths for a reason, He shows us love, kindness, and mercy when we need it most, He heals us, and He loves families.