One Client’s Story
The following is from an Adoption Choices of Oklahoma birth mom – Lauren – and originally appeared on her blog The Spoken Word. She was kind enough to give us permission to post her story here.
Let me start off by saying one thing, I love you. Three simple words yet they mean so much. When I say that I love you, I mean that I love you more than anything or anyone ever. There is no one or nothing that can take your place. There is nothing that will ever come before you. There is nothing that you can say or do that will make me love you less. Not even when you were trying to kick your way out of me, or the several times you spit up on me. Haha.
Now I want to tell you about the day you were born. (Don’t roll your eyes, and say gross.) The night before I couldn’t sleep at all, I mean you were about to be born!! So your mom, dad, and I started our journey to the hospital at four thirty am. And I was starving. (By now you’ve inherited the gene that makes you grumpy when your hungry. You’re welcome.) So we make it to the hospital at right around five, and the nurse tells us we’re not supposed to be there until seven! So we drop off all of our million and one bags in the room. (You know your mom.) And head out to find coffee. We end up at an IHOP, where your Aunt KK* joins us as we try to make two hours go by. I scarf down two pieces of toast, while your mom and dad order the most delicious things on the menu. (Maybe not, but at the time they sure looked it.) And we talk, as I stare longingly at their food. (Nurse said all I could have was toast.)
And somehow two hours flies by and we’re back at the hospital. And the nurse puts in the IV and your dad tries not to pass out. Everyone leaves the room and the doctor breaks my water. And the contractions start. Boy were they painful. So we sit and wait. And wait. And wait some more. Every so often the nurse comes in and checks me and tells me how far I’m dilated. Finally after hours of contractions, I’m at a five and they start to give me the epidural. Your mom stays in the room with me and we hold each other very very tight as the anesthesiologist starts the process. At the this point I’m crying. Hard. And still she holds me as my tears and snot stain her shirt. Finally he’s done and they have to help me put my legs back on the bed I’m so numb.
And then we wait some more. While being forced to sit in ridiculous positions and having a giant ball between my legs. Somehow I sleep for a little while. I wake up and its about 4pm. And I’ve made no progress. I’m still at a seven. My nurse tells me the doctor will check me again in an hour and a half, and if I haven’t changed we might have to do a c-section. So I start praying that you’ll move down, and start to come. But five-thirty rolls around and the doctor checks me and nothing has changed. And she tells me what I don’t want to hear. C-section. Everyone comes back into the room and I start crying. I feel what I’ve felt most of my pregnancy. FAILURE.
My friend had just had a baby, and everything was so easy for her! Her water broke naturally. Her baby came naturally. Why couldn’t I do that?? I couldn’t keep you and take care of you, and now I couldn’t even give birth to you. My heart was broken into so many pieces. I was bawling. I could barely get the words out to explain why. Everyone tried to reassure me and tell me that I wasn’t a failure. But it’s all I felt.
So the nurse comes back in and its time to go back. Aunt KK gets dressed in her silly operating room outfit. And they wheel me back. I’m numb from the chest down and they move me onto the table. I dry my tears and prepare myself as your Aunt KK joins me. She holds my hand as the doctor starts. I’m squeezing her hand as hard as I can, and then I hear the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Your first cry. At 7:04pm. And I cry. All I want is to see you. But the doctor has to finish. She tells me that we made the right decision, because you were still really far up. Stubborn girl. (I don’t know where you get that from!) Your Aunt KK takes pictures and is gushing about how perfect you are. She shows me a picture. I am in love!
Finally the doctor finishes and they put me back on my bed. And then they hand you to me. You were (are) the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And you stop crying as soon as I start talking to you. My heart melts. And for the first time in my life, I know what true unconditional love feels like. They wheel me back to my room and I see your mom and dad again. We are all in awe of you. We have waited ten months to meet you.
And then I do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I hand you to your mom. And she holds you. And I cry a little more. I see the love on her face and I cry a little harder. Then after a little while she hands you to your dad. And I see the biggest smile spread across his face. And I know. I know that you are loved. That you are safe. That you will be happy. And I stop crying. We all take turns holding you and gushing over how beautiful you are.
Then I feel it. I know that you are the greatest thing that I have ever done. And I feel accomplished. I made that gorgeous baby that everyone in so in love with. And I feel happy, and complete.
*Aunt KK is the birth parent counselor who was privileged enough to walk through the pregnancy, birth, placement, and after placement with this brave woman who placed her child for adoption.