In light of November being National Adoption Month, I’ve decided that Random Life Event Numero Dos will focus on my adventures with our lil’ Baby Mama!
That’s right — I, Mrs. Conservative, have a Baby Mama.
People are ALWAYS surprised to hear that our Little Lady is adopted. With my coloring and Hubby’s eyes, she truly looks as through she could be our biological child. A few months ago, some friends, whom we had not seen since before her placement with us, refused to believe us!
“There’s no way — you’re joking! Look at her!”
But, it’s not just in looks that she takes after us; the Little Lady is as personable as Hubby and just as stubborn as I am. . . just ask my sisters, who repeatedly pointed out that latter fact over the weekend.
When we first began exploring adoption, I was very leery of an open adoption. I had no idea what to expect but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to “Share” my daughter. And, how would an open adoption affect my relationship with my child — would she be confused as to who her MOMMY was? Would she turn to her bio-mom during hard times instead of coming to me? What if I didn’t like this woman who would be giving me her child?
Questions like the raced through my mind prior to meeting Miss G. The weekend we were to be introduced to her, I was a nervous wreck! I cried at the stupidest and littlest things — I snapped at Hubby over nothing — I changed my outfit at least ten times. This woman, by the biggest decision in her life, was about to change my life for all time.
Fortunately, Miss G had NO problem chatting with us — and she openly shared her life story and the situation that brought her to this decision to place her baby for adoption. She hadn’t made the best choices in life, but she was absolutely determined to make the best choice for this child. And, given her lack of education, income, and support, adoption was the best way she could care for her baby. She was also an adopted child, so she had an even more unique perspective on the entire situation.
We visited her several times during the remainder of her pregnancy, attending her church and OB appointments. Her parents joined us for dinner, where Miss G’s mom gave me a sweet little doll she had made, years ago, for her future granddaughter. She wanted our Little Lady to have it. The doll sits on a little shelf in her bedroom, next to a picture of the first time we met Miss G.
Watching my daughter’s birth was an indescribable experience. I sat next to Miss G., the two of us the only non-medical people in the operating room. I remember holding her hand, trying to calm myself and willing eyes to stay dry. Miss G., ever “Miss Personality,” joked with me during the c-section. Then came the moment I will remember forever. A little wrinkled, purple baby with the most swollen lips I’d ever seen, was pulled up by the doctor.
I was in shock. There she was — my daughter. A tiny little creature, leaving her home and entering my life. I remember looking at Miss G., who was also trying to get a good glimpse of the squawking bundle being poked, prodded, and printed. This young woman, a mere 19, was only 48 hours away from permanently placing this little girl in my arms. She trusted me completely to be the mother she felt she couldn’t be — the mother she wanted her baby to have.
Miss G. never looked back or questioned her choice. On the day she signed the papers, she did so with excitement. She was so happy for us . . . for our family. Instead of being in tears (as I surely would have been), she was rejoicing with us, thrilled that we had our long-awaited child.
I’ve tried my best, since that moment under the bright lights of the OR, to be the Mommy my Little Lady deserves . . . the Mommy I promised Miss G. I would be. It’s not easy — any woman who bears the title, “Mom,” can tell you that. But, I’m doing my best because I love my daughter and her mother.