Meeting Kaylee

As we walked into the hospital, I was an internal wreck.  I had butterflies of excitement mingled with a nervousness that were nauseating.  I wanted to run to her room, but was well aware that once we entered, our lives would be forever changed.

Our social worker was suppose to be there for our first meeting with the birthparents, but was unable to make it.  We stopped by the gift store and bought a small pink and white flower arrangement and headed up.  When we got to the birthmom's room, we knocked and entered.  The first thing we saw was birthmom changing the baby's diaper.  That immediately scared me. It made me realize Kaylee had been in their room for 2 days and they were caring for her.  Not that it's a bad thing, it just scared me that they would change their mind when it came down to it.  We stood in the room, flowers in hand, awkwardly waiting to introduce ourselves. The birthfather was wearing a Raiders jacket and Gabe broke the ice about making a comment about being a Bronco fan and some other lighthearted comments regarding the Raiders/Bronco rivalry.  Such a silly way to start our "hellos", but I'm so glad he did.  When the diaper was done, we introduced ourselves to the selfless couple in front of us.  

It was all I could do to contain myself from swooping up the baby girl in front of me.  I think I asked how everyone was feeling/doing, and asked permission to hold her.  I lifted her up and sat in a chair and it was so surreal.  I've held babies before, but none have left me in such awe as her.  She was sooooo pretty!  Adopting, you never know what kind of a kid you will get.  And lets all be honest, there are some pretty ugly babies in the world.  But not her.  Adorable and perfect!

While I held her, we talked with the birthparents.  We let them know we were nervous to talk to them and I think that helped.  The first question they had was for Gabe: they knew he was a marine and were concerned he would be a stereotypical marine: harsh, disciplined, and cold.  We assured them nothing could be further from the truth.  They let us know they had named her Melody Andrea, but we could change it if we wanted. We asked about the delivery.  Come to find out, they didn't know they were pregnant until the beginning of February, and they hadn't had any doctor appointments.  So when she went into labor, they went to a close hospital.  But the hospital didn't do deliveries, so they took her by ambulance to a 2nd hospital, birth dad frantically following in his car. Birth mom had a epidural and 4 pushes later Kaylee entered the world.

I asked if Gabe wanted to hold her, and he got such a big grin.  He was a little nervous but once she was in his arms, he was a goner.  We continued to talk to the birthparents and I was amazed at the ease of our ability to connect with them.  And in our conversations, I lost all nervousness that they would change their mind.  It was obvious they loved her, but were firm in their decision.  When our social worker had visited them the day before, she told them we had had a reclaim before, so she wanted them to be firm.  They were curious about that, and I think they cared enough about us that they didn't want to do that to us.  So who knows, maybe hearing we had a reclaim helped with their solidarity.

About this time, I asked Gabe if I could hold her again.  A big, long pause....he didn't want to share her!  Haha!

After about 30 minutes, a nurse came in and said it was time to discharge Kaylee.  We stepped out so the birthparents could say their goodbyes.  That was awkward again.  But when the nurse brought the baby out, we went back in to give them hugs (wasn't sure if we'd see them again for a while) and I promised the birthmom that I would love and protect her baby.  Lots of tears, but I felt like they needed love and hugs in that moment.

After that, we went to the nursery for discharge instructions.  The foster mom was there to hear them too. After getting our instructions, she gave us her information and invited us to come to her house to spend time with Kaylee.  She let Gabe carry Kaylee out to the car.  Such a proud papa!  Just watching him, my heart grew more in love with this complicated, strong and tender man.

First Family Photo

When we got back in the car, we decided it was time to call Gabe's parents.  Up to this point, only a handful of friend's and my mom and sister knew, and Gabe had made a decision that nothing went online until papers were signed.  I let Gabe choose when he wanted to tell his parents.  Since he was so nervous about this opportunity falling through, and since he has such a big family, he wanted to wait until papers were signed.  BUT, his excitement got the better of him and he decided to tell them then sooner.  He had already talked to his sister, and the plan was to facetime her and have our  5 yr old niece take the phone to Gabe's parents and announce we had a baby.  Well, she took off  with the news, but forgot the phone.  Haha.  So we didn't get to see their faced, but we heard their cries of excitement and disbelief.  What a special moment.

As much as wanted to race to the foster mom's house, but we decided we needed to eat first.  We pulled into an In-n-Out.  I wanted to use the drive thru, but Gabe insisted we go inside and take a deep breath, take our time eating.  Longest meal of my life!!  But I used the break to text pictures to all our friends/family "in the know."

It was about a 30 minute drive to the foster mom's house.  What a blessing to have her!  Such a Godly, Christian woman.  She let us be parents, she didn't try to tell us what to do or how to do things.  She answered questions if we asked, and while she stayed in the house, she would go to other rooms to give us privacy.  We got to change diapers, do our first feeding, and just love on our baby girl. We stayed there for a few hours, and then Gabe felt we should leave (they were starting dinner) and go settle in at the hotel.  I did NOT want to leave, and I was amazed at how my heart and emotions were already attached to a baby I had met 6 hours earlier.

We knew we needed sleep because the next day (Friday) would be full as it was paper signing day.  I had confidence, but until rights were terminated, there was still apprehension in our hearts.
So we went back to the hotel, ate our last dinner as a couple, and tried to sleep.

The Call

5:30 in the morning, my phone rings. As I pull myself out of my dreams and pick up the phone, I see it’s a “No Caller ID” call. This had better not be another fake credit card call I thought to myself. Wouldn’t it be nice if this was Lifetime I half heartily thought. I’ve received many early am calls due to the time zone difference, and none have been the one I’ve waited for.

“Hi Shaina, this is Diane from Lifetime.” I shot straight up, heart pounding. “Sorry to call so early, I know you are in Hawaii, but….we have a baby for you.” My first thought was, it must be a drop-in-the-lap because last time I received an email first with a phone call much later. “It’s a baby girl and she was born yesterday.” What? That means we are going to have to fly….today!

And that is how my day of absolutely craziness started. A healthy baby girl had been born the previous day and her parents wanted to meet us.

First thing I did was call Gabe. He had been training for 2 weeks at a range on island. His phone went right to voicemail, which was unusual. I called again, this time leaving a message. Then I followed up with a text. I’m in full freak out mode by this time. So I called my Mom and shared the news with her. Finally Gabe called me back and we had a short talk. I honestly don’t remember what was said, but their was no discussion of if we would do this – we both knew this was our chance.

After this, I took a quick shower. After all, I had to look nice when I meet the birthmom. My mind is going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how to care for all the things that needed to be done before we fly out for an unknown amount of time. I called a friend and texted our church group ladies.

My day was spent on the phone. Responding to texts from the small group we shared our news with. Calls with the agency. So much to learn and keep on top of. Laundry to wash. Dishes to do. I had a ribeye marinating in the fridge. And I couldn’t keep one task separate or prioritize them. I really was in a functioning state of shock.

We have a great small group and the ladies swarmed around me. 2 moms came over to help me pack. They ran to target first, arriving with a mini baby shower. I had told them the baby was a full Hispanic girl. So one brought the most adorable outfit with 2 big bows….bows were nowhere close to being on my mind. They helped me with laundry, went through my large hoard of baby clothes from our previous attempt (and all the ones I’d bought over the years as a way of coping). They did my dishes, and just gave me great mommy advice, and helped me pack all the baby stuff I would need. Their help was invaluable.

Right before they arrived, Gabe got home. He had requested leave which was approved (sooooo thankful for understanding superiors), he just has to be back at work on Tuesday morning. This couldn’t have come at a worse moment in his schedule. He hadn’t been home for over a week, had just worked until 1:30am, and needed to get lots of time sensitive tasks off his list by March 5th so he can attend his Drill Instructor schoolhouse April 4-June 22. But they let him go! Thank you Jesus!

Getting Ready for Pink!

About 4pm, we got a call from the social worker in Nevada. She had just met with the birthparents and told me they are a really sweet couple and seem serious. They did name the baby, and didn’t want to do cradle care (Cradle care is a temporary foster family who takes a baby when they are discharged from the hospital until a private adoptive family gains custody….State of Nevada requires a 72 hour hold before birth parents can relinquish their rights). So the birthparents planned on taking baby girl home with them for the night. When we heard this, our hearts dropped. Here we go again….It was nauseating. The social worker assured us that she grilled the couple and felt they were committed to the process. We took a deep breath and said we are getting on a plane no matter what and would see what would happen. But the social worker did take a picture and texted it to us. We just stared at her face on our phones!

First Photo

We exhausted ourselves quickly, mostly mental tiredness. We had a neighbor who invited us over for dinner and then took us to the airport. I was such a bundle of nerves and thought several times I was going to throw up.

We got to the airport and unloaded our stuff. Holy cow we had a lot. We took our car seat, stroller, and base. Walking through the airport pushing that with no baby got a lot of looks. Lots of, “oh where’s the baby?” as if we left something that important at home. We just smiled and said “We’re picking one up!”

Airport security was interesting. No baby in a stroller, I was half expecting them to pull us aside and have a drug dog check us out. When it was our turn to put our stuff through the scanner, we couldn’t figure out how to get the car seat off the stroller! I knew it wasn’t that hard and had put it together, but that was a year and a half ago! So embarrassing. It seriously took us 5 minutes to figure out how to take the seat off, then how to fold up the stroller. All I could do was laugh…#firsttimeparentproblems.

The flight from Honolulu to Phoenix was only about 5 hours, but it was the longest few hours of my life. No cell phones, so I was so removed from updates. I didn’t know if we would land and get the news that, just kidding they are keeping the baby. The flight was quiet and empty, so we got to actually lay down and get the sleep we needed. Well, I did. Gabe didn’t sleep.

We had a 3 hour layover in Phoenix before heading to Reno. It was stressful, but the select group of people “in the know” texted us. Then, I got a text from the social worker that the birthparents changed their mind and were going to use cradle care. In that moment, I knew this was going to work out. Most of my nerves were gone. A peace fell around me.

Our flight to Reno was the longest hour and a half of my life. Gabe and I weren’t seated next to each other and I just prayed the whole flight. We landed, and split up: I got the rental car, Gabe went for bags. I texted our social worker to let her know we landed. She called and said to get to the hospital ASAP because little miss was going to be discharged in an hour. And the birthparents wanted to see us before that.

We raced to our rental car, madly loaded up, took off shirts and got fresh ones on (it’s been 36 hours since I’d had a shower….i smelled, had greasy hair, and all traces of makeup were gone), and hit the road. I did make up while Gabe drove. We were immediately in culture shock being back in the mainland and the roads, but we made it in one piece. Parked and headed inside to go see our little girl for the first time.

My Shoebox Perspective

I wanted to take a break from the normal adoption blog (nothing new to report) to write something that is personal to me.  What is more personal than our adoption journey you may ask?  My husband's adoption story. I have some thoughts running around in my head that I wanted to put to paper.  It might never be read because to convince my husband to share things online is nearly impossible.

It's Christmas season and the new rage is the Samaritan's Purse Christmas boxes.  It is such a wonderful ministry and such a practical way for parents to teach their children about giving.  It's a ministry that means so much to because 20 years ago my husband was the little boy opening that gift on Christmas.

20 years ago, my husband was growing up in an orphanage in the Philippines.  He was adopted when he was 12, but surprisingly (or by the grace of God) he doesn't have many memories of his childhood.  He has bits and pieces, but most of them are scary or leave him blaming himself for the actions a child isn't responsible for.  He remembers a few good things, but most of his hazy memories break my heart.  He is so matter-of-a-fact when he talks about it.  It was his normal. It is his story - he doesn't know anything different.  But to hear how his childhood differed from mine, it brings me to tears.  My sweet, strong husband has scars on his legs that resemble cigarette burns and he has marks on his back that look like scars, but he has no memory of what happened.  He remembers eating rice with one small piece of meat.  He would save the meat for the last few bites, then take teeny tiny bites, trying to make it last as long as possible.  The stories about the unsanitary bathroom conditions...well, you can imagine.  To hear him talk, it wasn't so bad. Because it was his normal.  But when i look at him, all I see is the man I so desperately love. I know what he missed out on as a child and that pain kills me inside. The childhood that we dream of giving to our future children, he didn't get that.

His one vivid memory is Christmas getting a shoebox.  Inside was a plastic white plane.  I don't know if he even remember what else was inside because it was all about that plane.  Something so simple, but to him, it was the first toy that he didn't have to share.  The first toy that was his.  In that moment, he wanted to be a pilot.

To my husband, that might not be a huge moment.  To my underly expressive husband, he probably would describe it as"cool" or "a good day."  That moment may not have changed his world.  He didn't become a Christian in that moment....he probably didn't see God working in his life (what kid does).  That moment wasn't the moment he decided he wanted to join the military, be a family man, change the course of his life, or anything.  To him that gift was just a good memory.  But to me, that gift was a moment where someone showed love to that little boy that grew up to be the person I love more than life itself. To me, that moment was someone giving him a reason to smile.  To me, it was a moment where someone made a mark on his childhood so much that it is one of the only memories he has. So it's a big deal to me.

My husband's childhood affected the man he is today.  He hoards his care packages on deployment. He hates to be tickled. But he smiles when he talks about his toy plane. And now as a Believer, he can see how God showed him love years before he understood who God was.

6th Grade - Post adoption

To all the families participating in packing of shoeboxes: Thank You.  Even if you can't comprehend the full magnitude of what you are doing, Thank You.  Even if you aren't "religious" and are only doing it because it's what good people should do, Thank You. Honestly, you probably won't give a child a earth shattering moment that changes their destiny.  It will be one day out of the year, and then they will go back to their reality. But in that one brief day, you can make them smile. Make them forget about the worries that children shouldn't even be aware of. Give them one moment of pure joy. And most importantly, one Christmas memory to hold onto forever.  You are giving that to someone's future husband/wife. And hopefully if they come to Christ one day, they can look back and see He had his arms of love around them before they even understood who He was.

To the people who packed my husband's shoebox: I am forever in your debt.  That little boy grew up into such a good man.  You showed him love before anyone else had the chance.  Before his parents adopted him and he found his forever family.  Before he met me and allowed me into his life. Your small gift to a faceless boy helps my heart not hurt so much when I think about his life before his adoption. Thank you for investing your time and resources into giving him a small gift.  You invested not only in him, but in me and our future family as well.  May God repay you more than we ever could.

(When I asked Gabe if I could post this, I was shocked he said yes....no deletions, so censorship, he liked it. When I asked him why, he said if it brings awareness and more people pack shoeboxes, he is ok with that...so everyone go pack a shoebox!)

*Donate Now at: http://www.samaritanspurse.org/our-ministry/donate-online/?page=donate-online&section=operation-christmas-child

Rainbows and Promises

One of the most beautiful things about living in Hawaii is the rainbows.  We see them daily.  They are vibrant, low, and unlike any I've ever seen, unlike the far off, faint ones growing up on the plains. I see one almost daily on my drive to work, and on the drive home, there is one spot between 2 mountains that have the closest, vivid, and most brilliant rainbows that I've ever seen.  It is so low, you can see each color and it moves with you as you drive.  It gets closer until the prism starts to break up.
I have found a fascination with these rainbows.  To so many people, they are just a rainbow, an illusion of nature.  But to have the knowledge that is a promise from God, it makes me look at them in a different way.  At first, I took it for granted too.  Then one morning, driving to work, my eyes were opened in a new way. It became a daily stamp that God is still God.  He is someone who is current, actively a part of and working in the world today and not an old, stale story from the past with no relevance on my life today. Sure, the rainbow is his promise to us not to flood the world again.  We get that, it's old news.  But it's also his promise that he is still in charge, he is still in control. It is a daily stamp that he loves and cares about me. A daily love letter addressed to me.

One of the things I've been struggling with for years, is accepting that I am not promised a child. There is no promise in the Bible saying that any woman who desire a child will be given one. I've found that hard. There is no promise that when Gabe and I stepped out in faith that the outcome would be what we are wanting. God tells us he gives us what we need, not what we want. Maybe, it's his will that I won't have a child.  It's a tough pill to swallow some days. And it's a hard thing to reconcile in my mind some days. Knowing God wants to bless us, has promises for us, and here I am wanting something that is good but not being given it and having no guarantee if will ever happen.

Gabe and I are so blessed.  God has given us a beautiful life.  It isn't always easy, but I love it. But even loving our life and knowing we are blessed, I'm still like a child pouting about what I don't have. One of the things I've struggled with is knowing that God gives us what we need, but not promising to give us what we want.  I am not promised a child. No one is.  A child is a gift, a blessing.  But it's not promised.  While that's the truth, I think the enemy uses that truth to distract me.  This week, I realized I have been focusing on what I am not promised, instead of what I am promised.

Today, as I saw another gorgeous rainbow and had all these emotions, I realized I needed to go back and find the promises I have been given, and to focus on that.  And not just read the verses, but really dig into them. I think I'm taking them for granted on not seeing the full beauty of what they contain. So my goal is to go through and make a list of promises.  I know what God's promises me will outweigh anything else.

Shattered Dreams

Friday was suppose to be baby day.  But the time it took to prep the birthmom's body before the pitocin turned into Saturday. We had been getting updates from the birthmother until the labor started.  I had a fear they weren't ready to let the baby go, but because everything was going smoothly, I tried to focus on how faithful God had been. The updates I was getting weren't super detailed, but they contained promised to keep me in the loop.  When I stopped receiving updates, I gently asked for them and got no response.  Knowing they were probably in labor, I tried to be sensitive and not crowed them.  Finally I called our agency and told them I hadn't heard anything.  They did some checking and told me the baby had been born sometime Saturday but the birthparents weren't responding to texts or calls. I went into shock.  I didn't know if they had changed their minds, or if they were saying their goodbyes, or if there was a miscommunication and they assumed I was at the hospital and that the baby was laying alone in the nursery.  I went to bed not knowing, but in my heart, I knew it was over. Then early this morning I got the confirmation that they were keeping the baby.

Gabe and I both find it hard to be bitter towards the birthparents. I think they were genuine in their plan and they received nothing from us or the adoption agency. They are a great couple, and I'm sure the baby will grow up in a loving home. We struggle with the lack of communication that took place especially because we had such a candid open relationship already established. And there should have been more communication between the hospital and our agency (I should not have been the main point of contact during the whole ordeal). But the birth mom did text me to apologize and let me know they didn't plan for it to happen, as well as contacting our agency. I responded that while we wish she had felt she could have let us know sooner, we didn't hold any ill well towards her and we wished her the best. And we will just leave it at that.

I struggle with the feelings that come from being open and sharing our lives with people. Everyone around us gets to have the joy of making birth announcements, of posting pictures, of sharing their life's joys with others.  We lived the first 2 years of our journey in fear of sharing with others because it was so personal.  When we made the leap of faith to start adoption, sharing our news was such a healing moment in a way and I decided to let people in so our struggles weren't in vain; that someone else could hear our story and it could help them move forward in a positive way.  And we knew that God would use it to bring glory to him.  That's all we wanted.  So with our openness blowing up in our face, I feel that the bubbly, open personality I have appears as immaturity and naive. I know that's not the case, but I still worry about it.  That I will become that silly woman people gossip about. And I hate drama, and I feel that my life has burst into a big ball of it.

Right now, Gabe and I are both heartbroken and am struggling with the distance between us and the inability to support each other as much as we want to.  I think we are both going to unplug for a bit to heal.  We have decided to become hermits from the world for a bit, but I think 2 people being hermits together defy the definition of a hermit. I can't express how exhausted we are in our journey to create a family, and we don't know where we go from here. Our heads know God's truths, but our hearts hold so many questions.