A Beginning
editors note: I'm posting this in reverse order so make sure you catch part two which is posted earlier:
also its long
I decided that I should write Melissa’s ‘birth’ story. Although it has been told countless times to
my knowledge it has never been written down until now. Of course, Melissa’s story is written from the
perspective of a 5 year old memory.
Memories are distortions of the past, that change with us as we
change. But I will do my best to
describe the events and more importantly (I think) the emotions of this great
journey of ours.
Looking back, so many events took place that put us on the
path that lead eventually to Melissa.
Everything from the decision to adopt, when to start the process, where
to go, our reasons and emotions behind those decisions, what we said in our
profile, the pictures we selected, and the failed adoptions, all lead us to
Melissa. But one must begin
somewhere. For this particularly
rendering I have chosen to start with a phone call. But not THE phone call.
The phone call came the first week of December. We had recently met a birth mother who was
due around Thanksgiving but we hadn’t heard anything about it since. We had timidly told some family, and slowly
grew our meager “72 hour emergency baby preparedness kit”. Then the first week of December we got
another phone call from our caseworker, “P”.
P told us that the birth mom whom we had met had decided not to place her
baby, but that there was ANOTHER birth mom “K” who was very interested in
us. This one she said looked very
promising, but we were timid. In mid
December we scheduled a time over lunch where we could meet her. She ended up not making it to that meeting,
but she did have a letter written to us.
We didn’t really know what to make of this. It was a time of waiting, so we did. We prayed for K and tried to go on with life
as normal. We continued to prepare for
an arrival of an infant with hopes held high (at least I think our hopes were
high I honestly can’t remember).
Yet our preparation was subtle and almost covert in nature. We were so excited that this might actually
be happening but so nervous that it wouldn’t.
I remember trying to keep myself from becoming too excited just in case
yet not really being able to. Also there
was a fear, always there, of having purchased baby items which would become a
constant reminder of what we didn’t have, yet yearned for so desperately. But needless to say we bought furniture, and
acquired some other baby essentials. We
opted not to tell anyone (again that fear).
The only people who knew the situation was our bosses at work. K was due around Christmas. Christmas came and went with no word. Back to work and daily life we went.
Then we got a phone call that K had delivered on Dec 26th
and had named her Millissa (we didn’t know of the spelling until much much
later). I remember relaying the info to
Kent via telephone and saying I like the name Melissa, maybe we should keep it,
and he said no, he didn’t like the name Melissa. We were encouraged to give flowers which we
did, which was a whole drama in and of it-self.
But there was no mention of a hospital visit. It’s weird trying to remember what those
first few days were like. Wondering what
was going to happen and when. Were we
going to be parents or not? What did I
think about a baby laying somewhere that may or may not be my daughter? I can’t honestly recall. But thinking back I know why this situation
had to happen first. This would be way
more difficult for me to handle now then I think it was for me back then. Then P called. “She wants to take her home for a few
days”. “What did this mean?” we thought
again. No one knew. A few days turned into a week. But life marched on. We went to work, we went home, and we carried
on. I had my ‘desk’ at work and project
list clear and ready to leave for an extended amount of time at any
moment. We were told that at the end
of that week they were going to have a chat about what to do next. K’s case worker was going to be there as well
as the director of the Agency. Both of
these two individuals turned out to be incredible people and without their love
and dedication our story would have turned out so differently.
We got the phone call later that day about the meeting. “she still wants to parent”, Pat told us,
“but K repeatedly stated ‘I can change her mind at any time right?” P remained so optimistic for us. She just knew
that this would work out. “But in the
meantime do you want to put your profile back on line?” We said yes reasoning
it couldn’t hurt. But it did hurt. Emotionally.
Spoiler Alert: We picked up Melissa a few days shy of four
weeks later (Jan 20). This is the hard
part of the story to tell. Four weeks is
such a long time to “Not Know”. At first
I remember being so confused. What did
all this mean? Should we remain
optimistic and hopefully, or grieve for a child lost and move on? We osculated between these extremes almost
hourly. It is so hard to describe what
those days and weeks were like. We were
stuck in limbo. If we had been told “No”
she has decided to parent we could have moved on, but she didn’t say no but didn’t
say yes either.
I tell people often that Melissa was 4 weeks old when we
picked her up. Their reactions are
usually one of casually interest.
Sometimes I even will tell them that her birth mother, picked us out but
then took her home for those 4 weeks.
Then I usually get very confused looks.
But one time I told this to a perfect stranger and she had the reaction
I’ve always expected but only received once.
WOW she says that must have been so incredible hard for you. Her sympathy brought me to tears because it
was so incredible hard. Its hard to
even write about 5 years later. So many
thoughts race threw my brain all at the same time.
Like afterward how my boss (one of two people other than
Kent and I that knew what was going on) said how amazed he was I was still able
to come to work and work. But what he
didn’t know about was the times I would hide in a bathroom stall and bawl. (Sidenote:
my boss was so awesome. He never
asked or bother me for information which was exactly what I needed at the time.
) How confused we felt. What did this mean? Do we mourn and move on or stay hopeful? And the constant tug between this two feelings. Or how we remained optimistic and hopeful for
the first few days, but as the time dragged on the hope began to fade. How one minute I would be totally optimistic
and happy and the next completely depressed.
Or how for the first few days you heart would race ever time the phone
would ring, and how slowly that feeling died.
How I struggled to find my balance again. I cut my hair, we spent a weekend at a bed
and breakfast in Heber, trying ever trying to escape. Or the sleepless nights.
But life marched on and so did we. We got up, we went to work, we came home, we
ate dinner. The project list at work grew and we slowly
began to move on with things. And by the
end had concluded that this was not our time.
Three weeks after Christmas, my (Beth’s) grandmother passed away. It was not un-expected and in many ways her
passing was a good thing. But having the
excuse of a death gave me the outlet to my grief and emotions. I’ve always wondered how many tears were for
my grandmother (who I loved and miss dearly) and how many were for my own trials. To this day when I think of Melissa coming
into our lives I remember my grandmother, and can’t help but wonder if she had
something to do with her finally coming home.
