643 days later...

Abigail came into our room tonight at about 2:45am because she has a fever. I got her some medicine and sent her back to bed, and then tossed and turned for an hour. I went to bed at 9, and was asleep before 10, because of just sheer exhaustion. So now feeling more rested, my mind is just racing with all the thoughts of the day. So many thoughts, feelings, emotions, swirling around inside my head, sleep is just not even close to an option. Though I hate starting a day before 3:00am, I really enjoy this quiet peaceful time in my home.

Anyway, I wanted to write some of the thoughts and feelings of this day. A different kind of birth story. What a journey it has been. There is always an element of sadness when someone becomes an adoptive parent. It's of course, happy and joyful and exciting. But there is an undertone of loss. It's not ALL happy, like when a new baby is born into a family. No judgement for this feeling, just acknowledging that it's there. 

I think I've shared some of these thoughts and parts of Matthew's story before, but I'm going to put it all in one place anyway. When we first got the call about a baby boy needing a home, I immediately said yes. And then called Aaron to make sure it was, indeed, yes. Just two days prior, I had been talking to my sister-in-law telling her how I wished someone would just call and tell me they had a baby boy for me. This phone call felt so serendipitous.  

 I excitedly pulled out the baby boy clothes I'd been saving since Nathan was a baby. Got the bassinet next to our bed, and of course called everyone we know to tell them we were getting a baby!  Then we waited to hear again from the social worker. And waited. And waited. No one ever called again, and before 5, I decided to call them and see what I needed to do. It did not occur to me that they could have given the baby to someone else. Apparently the way it works is that once DCS has custody of a child, they let all the agencies know. The agencies contact their families, and whoever gets back to DCS first is typically who gets the child. In this case, our agency was not first to get back to them, and Matthew went to another foster family. When the social worker apologized for not getting back to me, but that another family was taking the baby, I was so confused. I had no clue that was how it worked. I remember telling her it was okay, but I was choking back tears. Even though I hadn't lost anything, it felt like a loss. I decided to let myself grieve a little bit. But I couldn't shake the feeling that this baby was already meant to be mine. I prayed on my knees so hard that night, and for a long time the next day. I went about all I had to do for the day, but could not stop thinking about this baby boy I had never met. 

Two more days went by like this. I still hadn't brought myself to put away the clothes and bassinet. I never stopped praying or thinking about the baby boy. And then on Friday I got called to sub at my kids school. While I was there my phone rang, and even though I shouldn't have, I answered it. It was the same social worker, "Are you still interested in that baby boy? The other foster family changed their minds." Tears immediately stung my eyes and I choked out a, "Yes. Yes, of course!" And because I just overshare in general I started telling the social worker all about this connection I'd already felt, and how I'd been praying for the last 3 days. She was very gracious in listening to me babble, and then told me someone from the hospital would be calling me to let me know the details. 

The anxiety of that day is still palpable. I was subbing for a special ed teacher who went to different classrooms to work with students. It was good, because I got to keep moving and staying busy, but had time between kids to check my phone incessantly. No one from the hospital ever called. I called my licensing worker and excplained what was going on and asked what I should do. She wasn't sure either, and I told her I was going to just go to the hospital as soon as school was over. She said that was probably fine. I called Nancy and asked her if her daughter, my babysitter, could stay after school and watch them while I went to pick up a baby at the hospital. What a long day that was for the poor babysitter.

I showed up at the hospital with my infant carseat washed and ready to go. I walked up to labor and delivery and explained who I was. The front desk person had no idea, so she called the hospital social worker. She came and greeted me, and knew exactly who I was there for. She explained on our walk back to the NICU that there was some mix-up with messages, and she didn't know another foster family had been called. She was glad I decided to just show up. She explained that Matthew (the first time I heard his name!) had been really fussy, had some trouble with feeding, and the other family was just too overwhelmed. She led me to his tiny bed, and there was the tiniest baby I had ever seen. He was sleeping, but I asked if I could pick him up. She said of course. And I scooped up all 5lbs of him and just melted. I studied his tiny features and my mind just raced. How could anyone given this baby up? What was his story? I looked up and saw the social worker, and NICU nurses all gathered around, and one wiping a tear from her eyes. They explained a bit about the other family, but they could already tell how comfortable I was holding him. Initially they wanted him to stay another night in the NICU, to make sure I knew how to take care of him, but after watching me hold him, change him and feed him they changed their minds. They got the doctor to check him out, and after hours of snuggling, we were able to leave. The first place I went was Fry's. With my new 5 day old baby, so I could buy formula, and show Aaron our new baby. It was dark by the time I got home, and honestly the rest is a blur.  I had very little information about why this baby was removed. I was initially told there would be no visits, and there was no family who was able to care for him. It felt like this was actually going to be our baby.

The next day a social worker came to our house and explained there would be supervised visits 3 times a week with the bio dad, and 3 times a week with the bio mom. They couldn't be together because they both had restraining orders, etc. This is a messy part of Matthew's story, and part I probably shouldn't publish on a public blog. But the thoughts of this being our baby were quickly dashed. It seemed possible and even likely that Matthew would be reunited with his dad. 

And then there were aunts and grandparents.

Looked even less likely Matthew would be with us forever.

Yet, I couldn't deny or shake the connection from that very first phone call. We went to court 4 times, each time hoping we wouldn't lose him, but terrified we might. There was a period I was honestly rooting for his dad to really get it together. It was clear he loved his son. Unfortunately, love isn't all it takes. 

The emotions during this year are strange. Is there way to stop from getting "too attached"? Aaron had a sacred experience where he got his confirmation that Matthew was truly our son. And yet, still it was hard to not be afraid. There is this guard you try to put up, but it's impossible. Especially with our sweet Matthew. To know him, truly is to love him.

The scariest court date was when an aunt had come forward and wanted to take Matthew to Texas. They would have moved him when he was 6 months old, but his dad was still doing his visits and doing well, the judge didn't move him. Same story 6 months later. But then dad's rights were severed and this aunt was still fighting for him. So we make it to yet another court date, expecting the aunt to be there, and likely having to say goodbye to our almost 18 month old son. And she wasn't there. She didn't get a bus ticket on time, and the bus was sold out. Mom's rights were severed and we moved forward in total shock. Grateful, but completely shocked. 

Then we waited to get a court date for the final adoption hearing. A date we were never sure would come. A date that we are planning our entire summer around. Getting the email with that date was significant. May 13th. A day we'll celebrate forever. And of course celebrated today with a party with our friends, who are like family, here in Yuma. 

 When it looked like the aunt was going to get Matthew, I told Nathan one night, hoping to prep him a little bit. Honestly, Nathan didn't pay Matthew much attention most of the time, so I was surprised when he burst into tears crying, "No! No! They can't take him away!" Of course I then burst into tears and hug him and tell him again it might not happen, but it is possible and we should be prepared. This morning as we were getting ready to go to court Nathan said, "Mom, I can't believe it's really happening. I actually have a brother now. I never thought I would have a brother." *cue tears.

The kids did pretty good. Eliza thought the 15 minute, anticlimactic court hearing was way too long, and Nora had to go potty, but overall they did great. When we were being sworn in they asked the Opies to stand and raise their right hands. Aaron was whispering, "No, no no..." And I was like, "What? Am I using the wrong hand? Are we supposed to do it seperately? Why are you saying no right now?" Apparently all of our kids were also standing and raising their hands to be sworn in.