Saturday Meeting

I woke up early again because I couldn’t sleep. K was on her way to Northern California.  I had to travel about an hour North to pick up more items for K and baby.  One of my sisters dropped many new items off at my house for K early that morning.  About 9am my husband and I went to get the many items from his cousin.  She had a one year old boy and had a lot of things she no longer used.  We picked up 3 or 4 trash bags full of things. 

I had some time to kill and we had not finished Christmas shopping so my husband and I went to a close mall and did some Christmas shopping.  we also had lunch together just the two of us at a little burger joint.  We got back home about 1:30 and I put all of the items in my car.  I had my little car full of items.  I had the trunk full and the back seat piled high with items.  I was sure I looked like a hoarder with so many items stuffed in my car.  About 2:30 I decided to head down to our meeting place.  I was nervous, scared, excited.  I was doing something that I could not do for myself 20 years ago.  I wanted to make sure I arrived before K, I did not want her waiting on me, I did not want her to go through this alone, I did not want her to think that no one cared. 

I ended up waiting for about an hour of Mountain Mikes Pizza.  My emotions were out of control, literally.  I was crying, excited, sad.  K and I were texting back and forth.  She was feeling a bit guilty of the pain that she was going to cause.  I texted her something to the affect of “Do PAP’s feel guilty for walking out of a hospital with your child? Do they feel guilty that you go home empty handed?”  Yes I have empathy for PAPs but even if they have a “failed” adoption it is not the same as losing all rights to your own child.  It is not the same as being lied to by an agency.  It is not the same as feeling used for your fertility.  It is not the same as the life time of grief for your own flesh and blood.

As I sat and waited I remembered back to when I signed TPR and had 72 hours to change my mind.  I was about 48 hours into it and I broke down.  I was able to see my baby and I had just got pictures developed at Longs one hour photo.   I was looking at the pictures in the mini van with my mom and her best friend about 8pm at night.  It was cold and dark outside at the beginning of March 1992.  I broke down and cried in a way I never had cried before.  I felt like I was being ripped apart, like my soul was dying.  I knew I couldn’t live another moment without her and all I had to do was ask my mom to drive me back.  My moms best friend said Jeannette let’s go get her.  I was ready but I got this look from my mom that said “no, you did what was best”.  I knew I was alone and I might as well have had no waiting period to change my mind.  This is why I am helping mothers now.

As I waited I knew I was doing this for myself, my children, and my grandson.  I might not be able to change the past but I can help this mom, baby, and the older sister to stay a family.  I can make it so they will never know the loss that I know.  Yes, I’m doing this for selfish reasons.  I’m doing to help heal these old wounds, to try to form new thicker scabs.

After a while I saw K and her mom pull up.  K wanted to change her clothes into something nicer after traveling for about 800 miles.  She changed and I got into her car to get her son with her.  We were less than a mile away from the PAP.  I had never done anything like this and my heart was beating out of control.  As we pulled up K and I got out of the car and her mom stayed in.  As we went up to the door and were about to knock the door opened.  Inside was about 5 people, 4 women and 1 man.  I did not know who was who but we quickly introduced ourselves.  Everyone was dressed in black, red, and jeans.  The women who had jeans on wore a red shirt, had matching shoes, belts, make-up done.  It was a little weird.  It looked like they were having some sort of Christmas party.  The PAP (single woman) explained to K everything the pediatrician had said.  We took the baby and proceeded to leave.  As we left no one shed a tear but one of the friends by the front door asked “Do you know what you are giving up?”  We said nothing and continued to walk to the car.

Now the car seat was in but not adjusted to the baby’s side so K adjusted it while I sat in the front seat, she wanted to be by her baby (understandably).  As K tried to get the baby in safely everyone came outside and stood on the porch to watch us.  It was very strange. 

We drove back to our meeting place, got everything transferred to her car, hugged goodbye, and we drove separately.  I went home and they went to find a hotel.  I was so happy and honored to be part of this.  I called up a friend who was also involved with this and we talked on my way home.  I was at peace, I knew K was going to make it.  I knew she would be OK.  I also got a text from my youngest daughter.  She said “Mommy, you are like  real life hero”  Wow I was most shocked by that.  Here is a young woman, my baby,  who is a freshmen in high school and she looks up to me as a hero.  How many teenagers really ever say that to one of their parents?

I had agreed to meet K the next day after she found a hotel and got some sleep.  I was still getting text from people who wanted to donate.