Let me just start this post off by saying thank you to all of those who are reading it. This post is one I've debated on a great deal whether or not to post it. Alas, here I am, writing some of my most personal thoughts and experiences and sharing it with the world. Why? Well, I hope that it may help some in similar situations, or maybe it will just simply be a nice read. Whichever one suits you. Alright, with that disclaimer, here we go.
Where to begin? Well, I guess first I can say that this blog is going to detail the life experience I have often referenced in other blogs. I've always been vague and have mentioned a time or two I would write about it when I felt fit. Well, I feel fit. I guess I'll take you back to September 10th, 2012. This day changed my life forever. I was living in Salt Lake City and was being, for lack of a better term, rebellious. Poor life decisions had led to me taking a trip to Planned Parenthood. Now, I know what you're thinking, and no. I did not think I was pregnant. In all honesty, I was going there to make sure I was still healthy. I decided to throw in a pregnancy test "just to make sure", but I was certain I wasn't pregnant.
Certainty can be such a pesky little thing.
I vividly remember sitting in the small patient room when two nurses walked back in with my test results. Before shutting the door, the woman looked at the paper and said, "Well, everything else looks good, but you are pregnant." What on earth do you say to that? Well, my first stab was something like "Oh crap!", but with a slightly different word other than crap. I was not about to be ready for this. After closing the door and providing some comfort, the nurse asked some basic questions. One of her first questions was if I wanted to abort the baby. Now, I'm not going to go into any personal views I have on the controversial issue, but I immediately said no. I was not going to abort this baby because I had made a poor decision. They gave me all the different little booklets and a list of references for doctors to visit. What was I supposed to do?
I remember walking out of the office feeling dazed, almost. So many different emotions, I couldn't focus on just one. Should I be excited? Should I be sad? Should I be angry? Should I be...? One emotion my mind could agree on was scared. Yes, I could be scared. And let me tell you, I was more afraid than anything. My first call was to my then best friend Jelena. Words were exchanged and then I called the father. A voicemail was left and then I called my counselor and then my bishop at the time. Mind you, all of these calls were not to my parents. I think the most fear felt, besides the thought of being a mother, was the fear of telling my own parents. After speaking with my other doctor, I decided it best if I just told my close friends and call it good. I was going to wait to tell my parents, because waiting is always the better option, right?
The night came and it was time to either go to bed or tell my parents. The easy choice was go to bed, but I made a deal with myself. I would call my mom, and if she answered I would tell her. If she didn't answer, then I could wait like I had previously planned. Well, the first attempt she didn't answer, and boy was I relieved! To my dismay, she immediately returned my phone call. The conversation started normally with the how are you, I'm good how are you shpiel. Then came my turn to answer such a simple question. "Well mom, I'm..." I stumbled to shove the words out of my mouth. Finally they came. "I'm pregnant." there was a pause, probably the longest five seconds of my life. Her reply, "Really?". I can't remember the rest of the conversation, but I remember the pain. I knew I had hurt my mother and I knew that would take a while to digest. What had I done?
The days moved by quickly, as time always does, and I tried my best to picture myself as a mother to this unborn child. I didn't want to admit it to anyone, but I just couldn't picture it. The father of the child was quick to be out of my life, so I knew it would just be me. Even then, I still couldn't see it.
Life led me back to my parent's home in Idaho Falls. I had every intention on raising this baby by myself. I would do whatever it took to be the best mom I could be. At this point, there was a lot of talk about adoption. People had their opinions, but I wanted to make the decision on my own. I didn't want to place this thing I already loved so much just because people said it was the "right thing to do". In fact, it almost made me angry when people suggested adoption. I could be a good mother, why would they say to give my baby away? That just seemed silly. And unfathomable. I was determined to prove everyone wrong and keep this baby, and make him/her as happy as happy could be.
I began meeting with my bishop around this time. Mind you, it's only October now and I've heard the first heartbeat. I was more than determined to keep the child. I even took extreme measures to get a second opinion on keeping the baby from some high authorities in my church. This led me to a meeting with my bishop late one night. I can't remember the exact day, but I know it was in late October. I was sitting in the office with my bishop, and he was telling me something about a couple who adopted in our ward. I kind of zoned off and wasn't paying too much attention. As I sat there, something happened. It felt as though water had been poured on my head. Not only was it a physical feeling, but an emotional one and heart throbbing as well. I had a thought that simply said, "Maybe adoption isn't so bad." With that thought came the choice. There was no question, no doubt, this little life within me was not to be my child. This baby I loved so much was someone else's baby and it was my job to get this child to them. I knew what I had to do, and adoption was the answer. I couldn't even hide the experience. My bishop paused what he was saying and asked, "Are you ok? Your whole aura has changed." With tears running down my cheeks, I replied, "I think I know what I'm going to do."
I remember leaving the bishop's office and his wife (who is a dear friend of mine) was sitting on a couch in the foyer. I sat down next to her and told her what I planned to do. We both cried and it was a very special moment to me. When I came home, I told my sister and my dad, and we all cried. This decision is one made with heavy heart and willing mind. I had wanted this baby oh so badly that I had forgotten what this baby might want. I knew it had to be the right thing, but it was still the hardest decision I've ever had to make.
I started working with LDS Family Services and was given resources to choose my couple. Although this was a very hard time, it was kind of exciting to pick out the future parents of my baby. I knew some criteria I wanted the parents to fall under. There's this awesome website with hundreds of couples looking to adopt on it. They allow you to filter through to find your perfect match. So, I entered the main things I wanted: lives in Washington state, has no other children, and doesn't mind the absence of a birth father. I hit enter and six couples came up. My eyes went directly to a couple of which the wife appeared to have red hair. Their names were Holly and Oley. They had two little dogs and their little bio excerpt was intriguing. The site allows you to send a little message, so my mom, sister, and I wrote out what I was going to say. Now, if you know me, you know I don't like dogs. So as I was writing out what I wanted to send, I kept putting in little sentences about my dislike of the animals and we would all laugh. It made the experience a little more joyful. Finally, I sent a nice little message to Holly and Oley Burke, the couple I was hoping to choose.
One thing I want to point out is that the selection process can be nerve wracking for the birth mom as well. Maybe not as much as it is for the adoptive couple, but I had my worries too. I was worried someone had already chosen them, or that maybe they really did want the birth father to be involved. Maybe they didn't really want to deal with me and all my baggage, maybe this and maybe that. But when I received an email from them saying they'd love to get in contact with me, I couldn't have been more thrilled. It was like getting an acceptance letter or something. My mom saw I had a new email and rushed down to tell me. Opening it was as exciting as opening an anticipated gift on Christmas.
We started talking and I immediately began to adore the couple I had chosen. We started texting, skyping, and talking as much as we could. The first night we Skyped was so perfect, I knew it was them. Holly made sure to introduce me to her dogs, and I couldn't help but like them too. I could see this couple was exactly what I wanted my baby to have.
On Thanksgiving, I received a phone call from Oley. This part always gets a little emotional for me. He sounded nervous when I answered, but I was happy with what the conversation held. "Hey Allison, so...my parents are going to be here for Thanksgiving dinner, and we haven't told them about you yet. I was wondering if in the prayer I could mention something about being grateful we're in contact with you as our birth mom?" I was so thrilled to say yes, and so touched they felt confident enough in my decision to share it with their loved ones.
Time continued to fly, and I was becoming more and more happy with my decision. Then December 28th rolled around. This was the day I was to find out the gender of my little one. My mom had knitted a blue hat and a pink hat. We were going to send a picture of the corresponding hat color (when we found out) to Holly and that would be how we told them. Laying on the bed in the office, I suddenly felt nervous. This baby was just an idea, a situation until now. Finding out the gender would make my child a real person. This thought flashed through my head as the nurse revealed the baby was a girl. All of a sudden, I felt tears well up and my heart skip a beat. A girl. A little baby girl. I wanted to be excited, I knew that was what Holly and Oley were hoping for. But sadly, I couldn't be excited. I felt a weird daze again. A slight gray cloud over my cheery mood. This baby was a girl, and she was not mine.
Setting all sadness aside, I sent the picture of the pink hat to Holly and needless to say, they were both thrilled.
A month later, Holly and Oley invited me to come meet them (in person) and spend a weekend with them in Washington. I love Washington, so I wasn't about to say no. I also wanted to see where my little girl would be living, and I really wanted to spend time with Holly and Oley.
The visit went extremely well. Hugging Holly for the first time felt like hugging an old friend. I clicked so well with them and everything just flowed. I knew now they really were the right ones, and they were going to take the best care of my little girl. Although it was still hard for me, I felt comfort in knowing I had chosen the right couple.
After the visit, time seemed to drag on. Looking back, it now feels like it flew, but I remember specifically feeling like the time was in slow motion. Months passed, our relationship grew strong, and I got fat. As the baby grew, I convinced myself this would be easy. I knew I had the right couple, I was making the right choice, and I was making people happy. How would this be hard, right? I totally had it down. May tiptoed around the corner, and suddenly it was time to start monitoring my contractions.
There were three failed attempts to birth this child. I was more and more upset each time I was sent home. The first time I went to the hospital, Holly and Oley made the drive down to Idaho. Looking back, I'm glad they came early because it allowed us to spend quality time with them. My family was able to have a connection with them, so it made things a little easier. Finally, my doctor decided inducing me was the only way to get this little one out of me. So, on May 21st at 5a.m., I was in the hospital (more than ready) and waiting to have this baby. Holly, my mother, and I all waited in the delivery room while each drop of medicine made it into my veins. We played a couple card games and enjoyed spending the time together. I lost my stomach a few times, but Holly was a trooper and helped me out with that. The hours passed and I was finally allowed an epidural. (I gotta say, women who can do that naturally blow my mind. There is no way.) At last, around 5:48p.m., miss Adelé Christine Burke was born. Holly was right next to the doctor, and I had asked that she be the first to hold her. After everything was all cleaned up (everything including Adelé and myself) I was finally given the chance to hold her myself. My first words were, "Hey little bug, you're so beautiful.". I've called her little bug ever since.
Obviously this was an emotional time for everyone, and I was no exception to that.
The next two days were mine to spend with Adelé. I will hold those two days forever in my heart, for they were the best two days of my life. Yes I was crying more than I ever had, but those simple moments where she was sleeping on my chest and I could hear her little breaths were the moments that I'll cherish forever.
Placement day was probably the hardest day I've embarked upon. There was no time constraint, there was no set way to do it, it just had to be done. All the paperwork had been signed and it was time to say goodbye. I had originally planned to give Holly my little bug, to be all symbolic and everything, but as the time drew near I just couldn't do it. I loved this baby with all my heart and soul, and I fought every fiber in me to change my mind. With tears falling down my cheeks and onto her face, I whispered to Adelé, "I love you little bug, I love you. Please don't ever forget how much I love you." I wrapped her one last time, set her in her crib, and watched as the nurse rolled her out of the room. She was no longer mine, she did not belong to me.
With all the flowers and gifts so many lovely friends had brought, my mother and I left the hospital. On the ride home I couldn't help but be confused. Why was I sad? Why couldn't I stop the tears? This was the right choice, was it not? I had picked the best couple, hadn't I? Why was I so sad? The only answer I could think of was that it was because she was gone. That's why I felt this way, because she wasn't in the car with me.
Let me just say that Holly and Oley really are the best couple in the world. They went above and beyond to make sure this hard time for me wasn't lonely. They made a basket which included: a mix CD with explanations for each chosen song, a quilt made by Oley's mother, a matching necklace to Holly & Adelé, a stuffed cat, a picture, a photo album with photos, and a letter from both Holly and Oley. Each item had a note included that explained each gift. I couldn't have picked a better couple. Adelé received the same basket with identical gifts.
I'm not going to lie and say that now, four and a half months later, it's easy. I'm not going to say that I never cry about it anymore. I still struggle with the challenge of it all, but the happiness I feel from knowing I made the best choice outweighs the tears. I love that little family just as my own and I know that I picked the right couple. I couldn't be happier with the decision as a whole. It hurts, it's hard, but I know it is best.
Thank you again to all those who read this, I hope it benefited you in one way or another.
-Allison S. De Arton
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