Two years ago, after so many years of struggling to have a child of our own, we drove through the night on the eve of Memorial Day to a hospital in Odessa, Texas. Where we met for the first time the precious baby that would become ours (we arrived just a little while after she was born). The hospital was amazing enough to provide us with our own room, and while we held our baby in our arms for the first time, my heart was so full and happy.
I held her for a while and Kevin rested after he drove most of the way to Texas. After a while, she went back to the nursery or to be with her birth mother. One benefit for being at the hospital still and for having our own room was when Aleithia went back to the hospital nursery or back to spend time with her precious birth mother, we could sleep. After driving through the night, we were definitely in need of that time, and it was a huge blessing.
During the hospital stay, our time was spent holding Aleithia, resting, and spending time with her precious birth mother. All of us there, sitting together in that hospital room, taking turns feeding Aleithia her bottle (she was a good eater right from the start, despite having a tongue tie... a determined firecracker right from the start) or just watching her as she slept. Those were moments that I pray I will never forget. We sat in that room, bonded for life, brought together by this precious gift, this beautiful child of God. Aleithia didn't cry much, well, except for when she was hungry which seemed like a lot lol. Aleithia spent much of her first day being passed around by all 3 of us. She spent some of her first night with us, but the rest was spent in the hospital nursery so we could sleep.
Aleithia's Birth Mother asked us into her room to chat. As she sat there holding Aleithia, she told us she wanted to take Aleithia home from the hospital. This came as a huge shock to us as we had thought we would be taking her home. She went on to tell us that she wanted one night with her. Her precious birth mom couldn't have been sweeter, she even asked us if we were ok with it.... so many emotions filled our hearts, and thoughts filled our minds. But it didn't really matter what we wanted, how could we say no... after all, even though she felt like ours, Aleithia wasn't ours yet. She was her mother, and she always will be. We owed it to her, and to Aleithia to give her the time she needed. A plan was made to meet at a location where we would get Aleithia back, and her Birth mom would sign the paperwork releasing her rights and placing Aleithia up for adoption with us.
I can't even begin to tell you the sorrow and worry that hit me to the depths of my soul at those words. We ran into the caseworker from the Texas adoption agency. She already knew the news we were just told and informed us that it was not a good sign at all and to be prepared because in her experience, if a birth mother took their child home from the hospital and changed the plans like that, it was very likely she could choose to stop the adoption completely. My heart sank under the weight of those words, it was like a knockout punch. I reached out to a few friends from Colorado, and our caseworker from Colorado Christian Services reached out to us. All said they were praying and wished they could be with us. We sat in our hospital room and cried. I had finally felt like that giant hole in my heart caused by my deepest desire to be a mom was full, but then my heart was ripped wide open again. That knockout punch took a piece of my heart and my soul with it.
From the moment we were matched to the moment we received that knock-out punch, I never had a single doubt that Aleithia would be ours. This match was an answer to prayer, and I knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt (but that story, and the God moments in the process that gave me that confidence is for another time). But, as I said, that news took a piece of my soul.... and it changed everything for me. I didn't realize it at the time, but I sunk into a depression, what was likely a form of postpartum depression (yes adoptive parents can go through postpartum depression too) fueled by exhaustion, grief, and worry. Over the next two weeks while we were stuck in Texas, there were times where I struggled to even hold Aleithia. Afraid to bond even further with her, crippled in fear and worry that I would lose her. Kevin did the lion's share of the work, and I took the night shift, and while we had gone into this time with a plan to not let others hold Aleithia so we could truly bond and connect with her (as recommended by our adoption agency), I was thankful to be living with friends in Texas and for the help they gave Kevin and me as new parents. I didn't realize just how disconnected I had become from myself and my emotions. During our time in Texas, we saw Aleithia's birth mom a few more times and I am so thankful for the time we were able to spend together, but it was a relief when we got the phone call that we were able to return home. I am so thankful we have a relationship with Aleithia's birth mother and that we have seen her several times since we have come home, but at that time I was thankful for the distance. I was still so filled with worry that she would change her mind, that it made being so close difficult and the physical separation and being farther away helped me a little.
Getting home we started settling into life, and finding our new normal at least for a moment (I mean any parent can tell you, there is no such thing as normal, because as soon as you start thinking you've got this, something changes). I got really good at answering questions, at pretending like everything was good. I think I even had myself convinced I was fine. We had home visits and meetings with our caseworker. I couldn't acknowledge how I was really feeling, because I could still lose her. I would go to church on Sunday mornings, and it never failed that someone would say, "You must be the happiest person in the world right now," or "It's such a blessing, all your dreams and all the answered prayers, right there in your arms. You are beaming." I was in survival mode... and was determined to do nothing wrong, to say nothing wrong. After all... If I stepped out of line, or showed any weakness, it felt like they could say I wasn't fit to be her mom. It truly felt like we were alone in this part of the journey, because showing any vulnerability felt to risky.
In September 2018, when Aleithia was nearly four months old, I finally started to feel like I was coming out of the fog and began to realize that I had been experiencing some depression, and I started worrying about how bonded I was to Aleithia, and she to me, since I was so emotionally detached, and then I was dealt another blow. As I was driving Aleithia and me to work, someone turned in front of me, and I tee-boned them at nearly 50 miles an hour. I blacked out for a second and when I came to, all I could hear was Aleithia's cries and myself crying, "My baby, my baby" to the the person who had opened my door. I remember getting out of the car and struggling to pull Aleithia from the carseat, not even realizing I hadn't unbuckled her. I heard the person who had opened my door say, "She's okay. Unbuckle her." I got her out and sat on the side of the road in a pile of dirt with the car wreckage around me, holding Aleithia in my lap and just looked at that sweet little face and cried and cried and cried. In that moment, I heard my own far away voice again... "My baby, my baby," and I knew... that there is no doubt, I am bonded.... she is my daughter, gifted to me by God and we, as always, are in our father's hands.
While I wish I could say that was the end of my depression, that I was back to normal, and that life has gone on as perfectly as planned from then until now, the reality is I can't. Parenthood is a lot harder than I could have ever imagined, recovering from my accident injuries is hard, and dealing with a lifetime of trauma and depression is not easily overcome. But what I do know, beyond a shadow of doubt, is that God is here. He has been with us through this journey. I am grateful for how He uses moments in our lives to remind us of His blessings and reveal things to us (Like how he used the car accident to answer my prayers to Him about feeling disconnected and questioning if I was any more connected with Aleithia than I have been with my nanny kids).
So as I sit here, nearing the end of this post, hearing Aleithia starting to wake up in the other room, I am filled with so much hope, gratefulness, and joy. I know in a few minutes the craziness of having a two year old (wow, first time I've been able to actually say I have a two year old) who is strong-willed and full of fire and laughter, will have me on my toes all day. But I am thankful to finally be able to share a bit of my journey and struggle, but mostly my Joy.
So as I sit here, nearing the end of this post, hearing Aleithia starting to wake up in the other room, I am filled with so much hope, gratefulness, and joy. I know in a few minutes the craziness of having a two year old (wow, first time I've been able to actually say I have a two year old) who is strong-willed and full of fire and laughter, will have me on my toes all day. But I am thankful to finally be able to share a bit of my journey and struggle, but mostly my Joy.
Happy second birthday, Aleithia Faith Marie. You have changed my world for the better, and while I know we might bump heads a lot (if this last year is any indication), I know I was meant to have you in my life and that God truly does make families. I LOVE YOU more than words can express. I can promise I will mess up, I can promise I'll make mistakes, but I can also promise my love for you will never end and you will always be my baby girl!
