Pride is Never Pretty

Welcome back to Day 22 of Our Adoption Adventure!

Thank you to everyone who has been following along. I appreciate you reading and your encouraging comments.

If you missed the beginning, you can click here to catch up.

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         We could not bolt out of that hospital room fast enough. The interrogation was brutal. The worst part was we didn’t feel we could defend ourselves. Emma had not signed any adoption papers yet, and we didn’t want to do or say anything that might jeopardize that. We stood in the front of the room and took the questions and rude comments. We felt vulnerable and exposed as the crowd played judge and jury. Emma’s mom acted as the prosecutor asking rapid-fire questions and then leading the laughter when we hesitated or stumbled on our words.

         When we finally made it back to the hotel we collapsed on the bed. Emotionally and physically drained, we were not sure what happened back in Emma’s hospital room. Who were all those people and why did they feel compelled to berate us like that? Emma had not tried to stop them. The sweet connection we had with her vanished as she sat silent in the room.

         Later, my ugly pride swelled up and I thought of all things I wanted to say to them:

“Who did they think they were questioning our parenting? We already raised our two other children from babies. We had been parenting for ten years. We owned a successful business and lived in a large house. Who else in that room could take the babies on vacations to Hawaii and pay for private school?”

         Immediately I was convicted of my arrogance and self-righteousness. Wasn’t I the same way with God? I wanted to show Him all my worthy accomplishments and my list of spiritual achievements so He would accept me and love me. In the same way that our experience did not matter one bit to the people in that hospital room, my spiritual accomplishments did not impress God either.

         Thankfully, He has already accepted me just as I am, prideful, self-righteous thoughts and all. There is nothing else I can do to make Him love me more. He already loved me enough to send His son to die on the cross for my sins. What did I need to know He loved and accepted me?

         Although my husband and I stood by ourselves against the crowd, we were never alone. God was with us giving us His peace and calm. He gave us the ability to hold our tongue and not jab back at the mocking comments. He gave us endurance to stand for over an hour listening to the snide remarks. We trusted Him so we didn’t need to defend ourselves.

         We also appreciated our friends during this time. While we were at the hospital we called home to update our friends and family. We belonged to a large church and couldn’t believe the number of people who were praying for us. One of the Pastors offered to drive the long distance to sit with us at the hospital. It was a spiritual battle and we were glad to know we had friends praying us.  We knew our friends and family loved us and they knew the journey we were on. It was wonderful to be able to call and hear a familiar voice willing to encourage and listen to us on the other end.

         The nurses at the hospital were also for us. From the minute we arrived at the hospital they were helpful, supportive and treated us as the parent of the babies. They didn’t need to, but they kept us informed on everything that happened regarding the babies and the family.

         The next morning we packed up our bags and checked out of the hotel. We were counting on going home that day and did not want to spend another night in that town. We drove to the hospital not knowing what the day held. Maybe the day before was all a bad dream.

We knew God’s mercy was new every morning and we prayed we would be able to take the babies home that day.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”  Lamentations 3:22-23

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What about you?  Have you ever been in a situation that squeezed you and showed you the ugliness of your own heart?  Thankfully God’s mercy is new every morning.

*** Join me here tomorrow for Day 23. ***

The Interrogation

Welcome back to Day 21 of Our Adoption Adventure. Thanks for following along. To start reading at the beginning click here.

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         After feeding the babies, a nurse came into the room and said Emma had requested the babies to come to her room. We didn’t know what to do or where to go as she wheeled the babies out together in their bassinet.

         We waited for a few minutes and then decided to go to Emma’s room and see her. She was lying on her side with her arm stretched around both babies who were in the middle of the bed with her. She was beaming with pride over her two boys.

         We chatted with her, marveling at how beautiful the babies looked. We discussed who they looked like and which of their features looked like her. One of the babies had her dark complexion. The other had her facial features. I took some pictures of her with the babies.

         She looked natural with them and enjoyed watching them sleep beside her. My husband and I were exhausted from driving and staying up all night. We decided to leave and find a hotel to check into and eat breakfast.

         After we rested at the hotel for a few hours, I was anxious to see the babies again. We drove to a store and bought two infant car seats, two newborn boy outfits for them to wear home and tiny diapers.

         I was so proud of Emma. She looked happy with the babies in her bed. I wanted to show her how grateful we were to her. We looked around for a gift that would express our feelings.  We decided on a dainty necklace with an angel on it. That seemed appropriate. She was the angel who gave birth to these boys, choosing to carry them for nine months and keeping them healthy in her belly. We also bought some flowers and a vase for her room.

         Emma was elated with the flowers and necklace. I think she was mostly grateful we thought of her. It was a little awkward standing in her room with her. She was pleasant and enjoyed talking about the birth and the babies, but we did not feel like the babies were ours yet.

                  Later that afternoon, a nurse found us in the waiting room and said the family would like to see us in Emma’s room. They wanted to meet us. I had an uneasy feeling as my husband and I walked down the hall to her room. We wondered what this was about and if it meant Emma had changed her mind about the adoption.

         My husband and I had visited more than a dozen friends and couples from our Bible study class in the hospital who just gave birth. I also delivered our two children in the hospital back home. But never had we seen a room like Emma’s when we walked in this time.

         The room was filled with people. I counted twelve of her family members and friends in the room, not counting my husband, Emma and myself. The babies slept soundly together in their single bassinet next to Emma’s bed. She introduced us to her parents and the others in the room. Each one glared at us. None of them smiled. None of them were happy to see us.

         What was going on here? Did they call us in to make some big announcement? I felt uneasy and awkward. This could not be good.

         The room was hot and the only place for us to stand was in front of Emma’s bed with everyone surrounding us. There were empty fast food bags, cups, napkins and food on every flat surface in the room. Emma’s mother began asking us questions:

How did we discipline?

Would we give them a pacifier?

Were we going to get them vaccinated?

How often would we feed them?

Did we know what to do with a baby that cried all night?

Someone from the back of the room asked if we had ever raised twins before.

         This interrogation went on for a while. After the questions came the lectures. Different ones told us how to raise kids, what to feed them, how to get them to sleep, how to dress them.

         I could feel the heat rise on my neck and face. My hands began to sweat as I shifted back and forth.  My husband’s face was red from heat and the tension in the room. What is going on here? We wondered. Who are all these people? Between their glares and snide remarks, it was clear this group of people did not like us nor that we were adopting the babies. We tried to be pleasant and answer their questions and listen to the lectures. After an hour passed, we both began to wonder how we could make a gracious exit and walk out of there.

         Then Emma did something I would never forget. Still wearing her hospital gown and socks, she climbed out of the bed and began cleaning up the room. She picked up the napkins off the floor and the empty food bags on the table and began throwing them in the trash. Nobody in the room moved to help her or said a word. I stepped toward her,

“Emma, you shouldn’t be doing this. You just had surgery. You should rest back in bed.” I said.

An angry male voice chimed in from the back of the room,

“Let her do what she wants!”

I stopped helping Emma and stepped back to my husband.

Taking that as our cue, my husband said to Emma,

“We are going to go now.”

Then said to the crowd, “Nice to meet all of you.” 

Nobody said a word.

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    Have you ever felt trapped in an awkward situation and could not find a way to get out?

*** Thank you for reading. Join me here tomorrow for Day 22. ***

Arriving at the Hospital

Welcome back to Day 20 of Our Adoption Adventure. To read from the beginning click here.

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            Driving into the empty parking lot at 4:30am, the hospital appeared to be closed. We parked and walked in. We could not find anybody to show us where to go. I saw a sign that pointed to the elevators and the maternity floor.

         During the last few years of our adoption journey I talked to friends who adopted and listened to their stories. They gave mixed reports about how the hospital staff treated adoptive parents. Some hospital staff welcomed the adoptive parents immediately and referred to them as the parents. Other friends told how hospital staff ignored them, did not allow them access to the baby and would not accommodate their requests.

         Knowing these stories, I was apprehensive when we arrived at the maternity floor. I had no idea what to say or how we would be received. We walked down the hallway to a locked door with a large clear glass window. We rang the buzzer, hoping there would be someone to let us in and show us where to go. A short, perky nurse appeared at the window. Before we were able to say anything, she smiled and blurted out,

“You must be the parents of the twins! We’ve been expecting you!”

She seemed genuinely glad to see us. So far this was going better than I expected. I breathed a sigh of relief.

         We followed her down the hallway. She explained that normally the hospital only allows two people to have bracelets for access to the babies for security reasons. Emma had one bracelet and she wanted me to have the other. However, Emma’s mother insisted that she have the other bracelet. The nurse told us this should not be a problem though, because the nursing staff had been informed to give us access to the babies.

         I wasn’t exactly sure how to processes this information. It didn’t matter to me as long as we were able to see the babies. She led us into a small room where another nurse was holding a stethoscope to the chest of one of the babies.

         I entered the dimly let room first. Looking to my right, swaddled tightly in a blanket with a blue and pink striped newborn cap on, was the sweetest baby boy, sleeping in a bassinet.

         I looked to the left and the larger baby was under a heat lamp, wearing only a tiny diaper. The nurse was recording his information in his chart. He was equally as sweet as his brother.

         My heart melted. Silent tears streamed down my cheeks. My husband would say later he could hear the giant splash as I dove head first into the emotional pool as soon as I saw those babies. I don’t usually believe in love at first sight. But there, in that hospital room, looking at those sweet baby boys I fell in love with them instantly.

         The swaddled baby was tiny at just five pounds. He had a perfectly round face, beautiful light brown skin and dark brown hair. When he opened his eyes they were like round saucers on his face. The nurse swaddled up the larger baby. He was longer and weighed six and half pounds. This was large for a twin born three weeks early. His skin was lighter and his face not as round as his brother. I was thankful that even though they had similar features I could immediately tell them apart. They were so beautiful because they were delivered by C-section and did not endure the stress of the birth canal. They heads were perfect. Their skin was smooth. They did not have that wrinkly newborn look. Their dark features were striking under their pastel caps.

         I looked around for my husband. He was hesitating in the doorway, not fully in the room. He looked a little stunned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just kind of shocked to see these two little babies after all these months.”

He had a camera and began taking pictures. The nurse showed us where the miniature bottles of formula were.

“They haven’t eaten yet,” she said. “Would you like to feed them?”

         There was a rocking chair in the room. I gently picked up the smaller baby and instinctively sat with him and fed him his first bottle.

“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart . . .” Jeremiah 1:5

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Was it love at first sight when you saw your child?

**** To read Day 21 click here. ***

Driving Into the Unknown

Welcome to Day 19 of Our Adoption Adventure. I am participating in a writing challenge at write31days.com to write every day in October. If you would like to read from the beginning click here.

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The phone jolted me upright in bed. It was 1:00am.

“Hello.” I answered.

“Hi, this is Emma’s sister. She wanted me to call and tell you the babies were just born and she wants you to drive here as soon as possible.” She said.

Adrenaline jarred me awake. “Is she okay? Are the babies okay?”

“Yes, they are all okay. She had to have a C-section though. They are finishing things up, but she wanted me to call you as soon as possible. Do you think you will be able to come right away?” She asked.

“Yes! Yes! Give us a few minutes to get ready and we will start driving right away.” My mind raced calculating how long it would take us to get everything ready and in the van.

“Okay, I will tell Emma you are on your way.” She said, as she was about to hang up.

“Oh wait! One more thing, are they boys or girls?” I asked.

“Both boys.” She said.

         Awesome! I could not believe they were here already! My mind raced. There was so much to do and I wanted to get to the hospital as fast as possible. I woke up my husband and told him the news. We quickly got ready, grabbed a few things and packed a bag to bring with us. I called my Mom to come stay with our older kids who were still sleeping. We left at 1:30am and weren’t able to say goodbye to them or Happy Birthday to our daughter.

         Once again her Birthday was interrupted, only this time, if all went well, we would bring home her baby brothers. I would have to think up a Plan B for the 12 girls coming to spend the night at our house with all the party activities I had planned for the next day.

         We were both so excited and rushed to get going quickly. We jumped in the van and took off in the dark. In our eagerness, we took the wrong highway and drove about half an hour in the wrong direction before we realized it. After backtracking and finding the right highway, somehow we were able to make up the time.

         On the three-hour drive to Emma’s town, we prayed together on the dark, deserted highway. We prayed for God’s will in the outcome. Not wanting to emotionally commit until the babies were truly ours, I had resisted buying a single baby item. It was hard because I am a planner and like to be prepared. But, part of the heartache of losing the baby girl during the last adoption was made worse because I bought a couple pink sleepers and tiny pink diapers.

         This time I was determined to stay on the deck of the the emotional pool. I was not going to jump in. On the drive up we discussed the need for two car seats and two outfits to bring them home in, IF we were going to bring them home. We decided to see the babies first and then find a store and buy the car seats there. My husband said, 

“If she decides not to place them with us, we will give Emma the car seats and the clothes as a gift. We care about Emma. If she changes her mind, we would want to give her baby gifts anyway. We will tell her there are no hard feelings, and we will drive home.”

         I swallowed the lump in my throat. That sounded like a good plan, I told myself. I should just count on that. We did care about Emma and wanted her to make the best decision for herself. We had not been part of an adoption yet, where the birth mother placed their child with us.

         It was heart wrenching to count on coming home with a baby and have the birth mother change her mind at the last minute. No, this would be safest. Plan on helping Emma and buying the car seats for her to take the babies home in. If she decided to place them with us, we would love them forever, as our own children. If not, there would be no hard feelings, I thought to myself, as I quickly wiped away a tear slipping down my cheek.

         Silently I prayed, “Lord, please let these boys be ours.”

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--> Have you ever been in a situation where you had no idea what you were getting into? 

*** To read Day 20 click here.***

Best Laid Plans

Welcome back to Day 18 of Our Adoption Adventure. If you would like to read from the beginning, click here.

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            I grew to really like Emma. She was sweet and kind. Even as she grew more and more uncomfortable with the added weight and pregnancy related pains, she remained positive and always had a smile on her face.  If we ever were to adopt these babies I was glad I would be able to tell them how wonderful their birth mother was.

         The last two months of her pregnancy Emma’s belly grew enormous. She quit her job and though not officially on bed rest, she was exhausted and spent much of her time lying on the couch. We talked on the phone every few days and I drove her to her appointments every other week. She filled me in on how she was feeling and we talked comfortably.  Our relationship was somewhere between big sister, little sister and mentor, mentee. I ordered larger maternity clothes and a pregnancy belt to help take the pressure off her ever-expanding middle, and had them mailed to her house. She was delighted and thankful for the gifts.

         As I promised myself, I was not letting my heart jump fully into the emotional pool.  I was there to help Emma. If at the end she still wanted to place the babies for adoption, I would be thrilled. But after our first two adoptions fell through, I did not want to get my hopes up.

         Her pregnancy proceeded normally and our life at home went on as usual. The twins were developing right on schedule and the doctor confirmed they were due at the end of August.

         Our daughter’s birthday was at the beginning of the month. Her last birthday had been overshadowed by circumstances beyond our control. The previous year one of our key employees was found murdered on her birthday. (You can read that story here.) Her birthday was cut short as our family flew home from vacation to tend to the situation. I felt bad for her and was determined to make it up this year. To allow for plenty of time before the twin’s birth, I planned a larger than normal celebration, for five days before her birthday. We invited 12 ten-year-old girls to meet at a pottery shop and create and paint ceramics. Afterwards, we would have dinner and games at our house and a huge sleepover. I was pleased with myself for going all out, planning and having everything ready the day before. I fell into bed exhausted the night before the birthday party. 

         It was 11:00pm as I prayed for Emma and the twins. I remember thinking our daughter’s birthday was our last major event before the babies were due. Any day after the birthday party would be a good day for them to make their appearance into the world. After the party we could be ready to leave at a moments notice when Emma went into labor. After the party I could begin to think about cribs, baby clothes, bottles, and all the other items we might need. After the party I would pack a bag for the few days we would be spending the night out of town when we picked up the babies. I drifted off to sleep thinking of all the tasks I would focus on . . . after  . . . the  . . . party . . .

          At 1:00am I was jolted awake by the phone ringing.


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"We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps." Proverbs 16:9 

 

*** Click here  to read Day 19. ***