Failed Matches and Roller Coaster Rides: A Love Story?

I'm sorry I haven't published anything in awhile.

Part of that is because I wrote a piece after the yard sale about where we were in the process, and it got picked up before I could publish it myself.  It will be published by an adoption consulting company just before Thanksgiving as part of an Adoption Month awareness campaign.  (You can read all the guest blogs here.) Really, it's not a big deal, but I had to promise not to share it with you all until it was published there!

Then, it was kind of hard to do any writing, because we have been on a roller coaster ride.  Not a literal ride, but a metaphoric roller coaster that has kept our hearts outside our chests, and had us on our knees pretty much 24/7 for two weeks.

What happened?  

About a month ago (before our home study was done), our social worker told us that she was meeting with an expectant mom that would "be a great match" but since it was a "long shot" she would recommend we keep our hearts guarded.  We rushed overnight to put together an electronic mini-profile of sorts to have something to show her, knowing we would be "competing" against other couples with prepared books and their home studies completed.  But we wanted our social worker to have it if and when she saw the expectant mom.  After a week or so came and went, and we heard nothing, we pretty much wrote off the possibility.

Then we found out she had picked us.  She wanted to meet us.

We found out a little bit more about her and the baby, and for her sake I'm not going to share that here.  It is safe to say, however, that this was a perfect match.

Unfortunately, as scared expecting mothers tend to do, this one then dropped off the face of the earth.  She cancelled not one, not two, but three meetings.  Our social worker warned us that she thought there was a good likelihood we'd never hear from her again.

Then last week, out of the blue, after finalizing our real profile book, we did.  A meeting was set for last week.  We got excited, but again, our social worker talked us back from the ledge.  She said things like...

"I think there's a real likelihood she will wind up parenting."

"Please don't get your hopes up."

"I may not know her well, but I know adoptions, and I think she's going to parent."

Despite all this, as you can imagine, there is always a piece of your heart that escapes the confines of reasonableness, and dares to hope.

In preparation for our meeting, Mike and I made a tie-fleece baby blanket to give her.  It was Winnie the Pooh theme and gender neutral, because we didn't know the gender.  I stayed up late the night before the meeting and made fall-colored M&M cookies.  (Because what pregnant woman doesn't like cookies?)

Then, the day of our meeting, she cancelled.

Now, I know what some of you are saying.  "How unfair!"  "She is totally manipulating you!"  And I don't disagree with you completely.  I felt manipulated, even though that wasn't her intention.  Quite simply, it wasn't fair to our hearts after everything we've been through.  And so I got pissy.  And I ATE THE COOKIES.  I washed them down with some wine, and put my tender self to bed.

The next day I put away my bitterness, and decided to pray for her instead.  My prayer was:

 "Lord, please help her to overcome her fear, and give her the wisdom she needs to be a great mom."

Three days later she had a baby girl.

And then she asked to meet with us again.

I won't drag this out any longer than it needs to be.  The long and short is that we met, but she had already decided to parent.  She was in the Hospital with her baby for two days, and fell in love with her.  She is an amazing young woman with a huge mountain ahead of her.  She has no resources, and very little support.  But her heart is clear and she knows she loves her daughter too much to let her go.

What I didn't tell her, was that I remember the pain of leaving the Hospital without my baby girls.  Being wheeled to the door to wait for the car, without the infant carrier on my lap.  That feeling of emptiness in my womb, and in my arms.  I wouldn't wish that on anyone.  And my heart just broke for her.

At the end of our meeting, after we gave her the blanket, she turned to me and tearfully said "I really like you guys. I'm so sorry I decided to keep my baby."

And I got it.  I didn't know maternal love until I had my first son, and I've been keenly aware of it ever since.  So in that moment, I understood her decision completely.

So, yeah.  Roller coaster.

You know that moment when the coaster goes over the top of the hill, and you feel your stomach come up to your chest, and your heart come up to your throat?  You know how it's scary and exciting and awesome and totally terrifying?  That's kind of how I've been feeling all the time...never knowing what is on the other side of the hill.  And that's been hard.

But you know what's even harder sometimes?  Love.

For one crazy day, I was able to slow down and love on another human being.  For no reason whatsoever.  For no personal gain, and in fact, anticipating the pain it would bring.

It's scary, and it's difficult.  But nothing good comes easy.

And it felt so good you guys.

Love is so, so good.