Sometimes it's easy to read adoption stories and only see happy endings.
But the truth is, adoption is always born from brokenness. Adoption is always bittersweet and sometimes the stories don't end the way you had hoped. When Brent and Jamie began their adoption, there was no way to know what would lie ahead for their family.
Today Jamie shares transparently what it looks like to walk through both the brokenness and the beauty of adoption. And what it looks like to find God in both places.
I’ve started to write our story many times. However it has always ended up more doom and gloom than I want. It’s been one year since we had a failed match. And while it was very quickly followed by a miraculous stork drop, it has since etched a sadness in our hearts. The joy is much much bigger, but the thing about adoption is the pain from a failed match or the birth family’s grief at the placing of a baby – that sadness doesn’t just disappear with life’s wonderful joys. But let me tell you, my happiness is overflowing and contagious right now. Our lives have been blessed by the most wonderful little girl.
Our match process was pretty average I think. Eight ‘not yets,’ and a final yes from a couple we took a chance on. Our expectant mother was early in her pregnancy – only 15 weeks. We hadn’t been presenting to situations that early, but we were getting discouraged and we agreed the intent was to have a child, and why wouldn’t we take a leap on this baby?
They wanted to meet in person so we flew to Las Vegas from Minneapolis for a dinner. We had already had a few phone calls that went wonderfully. Our second contact our expectant mother said “Are you ready to know what you’re having? Rosalie is getting a sister!” She asked if we were going to do a gender reveal to our families. We hadn’t planned on the pomp and circumstance since nothing is ever final in adoption, but she was excited about it, so we did. We sent bouquets of pink floral arrangements to our parents signed “It’s a girl!”. Our expectant mom loved it. We continued to develop a relationship. She shared why she was placing – she was young and didn’t have stable employment, and she grew up in a single parent home and did not want that for her baby. Few people understood the depth of our relationship. But I wanted to make sure that we established a strong connection for the child we would share. She shared videos of baby girl kicking. I sent her voice messages that she played to her stomach. We had a print of the 20 week ultrasound of baby girl on our fridge – she had such long arms and legs! - and every time I walked by it I would kiss my fingertips and touch it.
The last few weeks before her due date I started panicking. Things were changing with our expectant mother. Red flags were popping up and I was terrified. I cried almost daily. I was so scared. I prayed and prayed. I begged God for this to be His will. Our social worker called when she went into labor, so we got on the next flight to Las Vegas. The hospital wouldn’t let us have a room and that’s when it began to feel even more rocky. We were in the waiting room for hours before we were invited in. We held precious baby Lily and kissed her, and then we gave her back. Our social worker suggested we go to our hotel, the recovery room was small and it was the middle of the night. Suddenly we weren’t sure if Lily was ours. The following day continued to be messy, but eventually our social worker sat with all of us and discussed the highs and lows of the past 24 hours. And they affirmed for us that they could not parent and they were not changing their minds. Tears streamed down my face, and I put my trust in their words. Things changed for the better and we spent the next two days caring for Lily. She latched easily when I nursed her, we admired every inch of her tiny body – she had a flat little butt, and rosy red cheeks. And the morning of the paperwork my heart ached for Lily’s parents. My husband and I both felt grief for their loss. But we were confident, and so so happy. I was praising God for His faithfulness.
The details of how it unfolded are yucky. Both of Lily’s parents had roommates and we felt it would be difficult for them to grieve without privacy so we purchased them a few nights at a hotel. Twenty minutes before the phone call to tell us they changed their mind, Lily’s mother texted me “We still have the hotel tonight right? LOL”. I still can barely see the letters lol without a pang in my heart. And then suddenly we were hysterical in the parking lot of a Starbucks. I was on my knees outside wailing from the phone call. They had chosen to parent. It was the eve of Thanksgiving so tickets home were outrageous but we needed to be back with our daughter. The next day, we laid in bed crying – that’s how we spent the following weeks. Our daughter had a heartbreaking tantrum when we arrived home without the baby sister we had been talking about for months. She was two and we didn’t realized the devastation for her until the day after the crib came down and she was trying to kick over our ottoman and throw her floor rug – behaviors we had absolutely never seen in her. And then we discovered her little heart was broken too.
A few weeks later it was a Sunday and my birthday. We decided to go to church for the first time. I don’t even know what happened at church, I just cried the entire time. I was so confused. There were so many little signs during our five month match that made me feel like God had ordained this. Lily was even born on National Adoption Day and when we shared that with her parents, they thought it was beautiful. I thought God was giving us signs. Later a friend told me that maybe I wasn’t wrong on reading God’s signs. Maybe He did wish for Lily to have us as parents, but He also knew that her mother wouldn’t choose that. We have free will, and even if God had placed these little blessings upon the situation, it wasn’t going to deter what would be her choice in that final moment. And then my friend told me “But He is working for your good.” And even now that is what I cling to in life. God is always working for our good. He also knew Nora’s birthmother was pregnant and not planning to parent. And when she went into labor, the hospital called our agency, and our social worker is the one who met with her… little details that I think are big signs of God’s hand in our life.
The day after my very miserable birthday I spent the morning in bed and Brent went back to work for the first time. If I was in a bad way, he was worse. It was so painful for both of us to watch the other suffer but not have enough strength to help each other.
That afternoon though, everything changed. I got a phone call from our agency that a baby had been born. A girl. Her mother had already heard our story and wanted us to have her baby. I called Brent. We were still grieving the loss of baby Lily, but we became hopeful. When we arrived home from Las Vegas the first time I gave my mom the matching holiday pajamas I bought for the girls and I told her to get rid of them. When I told her about this baby she said “I never got rid of those clothes. Just in case” – that was it. We had matching holiday pajamas for two little girls and it was 2 weeks until Christmas. This was meant to be.
Three hope filled days passed until the relinquishment paperwork was complete. We left for the airport and our daughter was in our arms that night. She was in a blue onesie when we held her the first time. She had dark hair and the cutest mouth. Her wide little nose was perfect for kisses and her tiny hands wrapped around our fingers immediately. We shared our good news and it spread quickly. Before we left we had a dozen houseplants and flower arrangements and notes from family and friends sympathizing with our loss, and now we had wonderful news to bring their joy back as well. It was so thrilling to hear how so many prayer chains got the beautiful update of our miracle baby. I know several bible study groups who wept over the failed adoption, and then who wept again at how God came through.
And now our story is about Nora.
I have long since accepted that Lily was never our baby. She was just a child who had extra prayers because of us. I think I will always hurt for giving my heart to Lily’s parents – especially her mom who I do genuinely care for. But our story of bringing a child home ended miraculously. A Christmas miracle. God worked to make it right. He worked for our good.
I very much wish that hadn’t happened to us. It still hurts. It always will. It’s been a whole year and the memory still weighs on my heart. I continue to process the details of those five months and what happened. But I also look back with a great sense of pride. We loved Lily’s parents well. And although it eventually hurt us, I feel in my heart that we represented the body of Christ well. And somehow, even after all that, we intend to do it again, because the gift we got out of the whole horrible deal was a beautiful, healthy daughter who is absolutely perfection.
Nora is stinking fantastic. I mean, seriously, she is the yin to her sisters yang (or whatever that phrase is). She is like me – very loud and happy, where Rosalie is definitely her dad – thoughtful and goofy. Nora smiles all the time and it’s really easy to make her laugh. She is silly. She loves to tease our dog Rupert with her pacifier – she thinks its hysterical to pretend to give it to him and then take it back. She loves to be chased & quickly flops down for tickles. She has big bouncy curls right on the top of her head like a little Cabbage Patch doll. She is marvelous.
We cocooned the first few months and we loved hoarding the snuggles. I was able to build up a full supply of milk and I continue to breastfeed her almost a year later. (I tried to get rid of my milk a few days after our fail, I was too emotional. And then suddenly I wouldn’t let myself quit, and I’m relieved I started pumping again.) Nora is definitely attached – a total mama’s girl, though more recently she can’t get enough of her daddy. Our daughter Rosalie got the baby sister she had been told about, and she loves loves being a big sister. She gives her endless nicknames (Nor Nor, Nori, Beanie, and the classic “aww hi cute baby!”) and adores sharing her bedroom, but not so much her toys.
This summer our finalization was delayed like many because of Covid. But after the judge declared Nora our natural daughter (I love that, “natural child”) we threw a safe social distance party. We hired an ice cream truck and invited all of our loved ones to a frozen treat. Nora discovered her love of ice cream which has been a problem ever since. She straight up screams when she sees us scoop a bowl. It was neat because quite a few of my friends told me that their kids had a lot of questions about adoption after the party. They were asking, “There’s a big party for Nora but it’s not her birthday…?” And it led to really neat conversations for them about where Nora came from and the different ways families are created. And that’s really what I wanted for sharing our story – a reminder to those in the process that the road to bringing a child home is different for so many families.
Adoption is high risk and even higher reward. And the reward was so so worth it.
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