The next month was filled with preparing for a new baby, lots of phone calls with the birth parents, connecting and building a relationship with them and soaking up the last days with our three other kids before we went from a family of five to a family of six.
On January 23rd, a month before his due date, we got a call from our birth mom saying she was in labor.
We scrambled to get bags packed and babysitters lined up. It was 8pm when we were driving out of our
driveway on our way to Kansas.
On snowy, blizzardy roads we drove through the night and arrived twelve hours later at 8am. It was an
exhausting night to say the least.
We stopped and grabbed some breakfast to bring up to the hospital room for everyone.
When we arrived we thought we would meet someone from the agency and they would bring us up to the
room; it didn’t quite work out that way and we ended up having to go up to the room by ourselves.
We were so nervous walking up to that hospital room. What would we say?
How do we introduce ourselves?
walked into a quiet and dark room. Both birth parents were sleeping,
along with their 16 month old daughter. Honestly, it was a bit awkward. We were awkward.Everything just felt awkward and we were completely exhausted from the
long night of travel. We talked over breakfast and played with their adorable daughter.
The doctor and nurses were in and out checking on contractions that were slowing
down at this point; this filled most of our day.
the world today. We were completely exhausted and wanted so desperately to sleep, but it was this hard
balance of wanting to be there for the birth parents but also going on minimal sleep so we just wanted
(and needed) to sleep.Around 10 pm that night we told them we needed to get some sleep and not knowing what was
happening on the baby front, we decided to just sleep in our car in the parking garage of the
hospital. A short hour later we got a phone call saying our birth mom was being discharged from the
hospital as baby was seemingly wanting to stay put for a while longer.
By 1am we were getting a hotel room and tucking into bed.
I’d like to say that we climbed into bed and just fell fast asleep but right as we were laying down the all
too familiar ghost of mine, anxiety, came in full force.
the process of adoption had caused spikes here and there.That night I’m not sure why it started? Maybe it was the lack of sleep from staying up most of the night
(and day) before? Maybe, it was the finally knowing I could rest and relax and completely be myself with
just my husband there? Or maybe, it was just Satan knowing where he could hurt me most?
My guess is the latter. It was a hard night. Not a lot of great sleep and trying to keep myself calm and
off of the ledge of anxiousness. We awoke earlier than we would have liked the next morning as we
needed to figure out what our plans were going to be.
go home to be with our other kids? Or, do we both go home? It was a hard decision and we waited to
hear more from the agency on what they thought we should do. In the end we decided to travel back
We made it no more than a few hours out of town, before we got another call saying that contractions had
started again. We were told to just stay put for awhile and see what plays out.We ended up finding a cute little town nearby where we spent the next several hours window shopping
the main street shops and reading books in a coffee shop.
In the end we were given the go to keep going back home. We drove several more hours and stayed the
night, leaving early the next morning to finish our trip.
thinking maybe this is what will happen? Maybe our birth mom will decide to parent in the end and I
had to come to terms that it was a real possibility even though she said she was certain on her decision.At this point, we were there simply as people coming alongside another couple and offering support.
That maybe the baby was not ours and maybe never would be and we had to be ok with that.
We continued to call and text over the next 10 days until we once again got the call that she was in labor.
my husband, Brett as soon as I got off the phone with the birth mom, she was sure this was the real deal
and that he was coming soon. So, once again, at 8pm we were making the decision about traveling
through the night again to get there in time to be in the delivery room.I could feel my anxiety starting to set in again at just the thought of traveling all through the night again.
suggested we stay home, get a good night of sleep and leave early in the morning.Around 1:30 am we started getting a ton of texts and pictures from the agency.
He was born, a healthy, beautiful boy with a head full of beautiful black hair. I’ll never
forget or take for granted the fact that we have so many pictures and videos of our son’s birth,
they truly are a treasure. I still mourn the fact that we weren’t actually there so that one day we could
share with him about his birth, but I’m so thankful that we can share the many pictures and videos of him.
And honestly, as I sit and reflect one year later, I’m so thankful that he was able to have those first few
hours alone with his birth parents.
normal levels (if that is such a thing) but it seemed the closer we got the
more anxious I got. I’m thankful that I have a rock of a husband and some pretty incredible friends that
were praying over all of this for us.One dear friend of mine sent me a song, through text, written by Rend Collective called “Weep with Me”.
Little did I know that this song would be on repeat for me throughout the next several days.
for a few extra moments to gather ourselves and pray together. I remember struggling to even want to
go inside the hospital. I felt guilty since every other adoption story I’d ever read or heard
was this rush of wanting to get in and see the baby. We had already met his birth parents, so it wasn’t so
much about the nerves that come with meeting them for the first time.I was struggling to figure out how to love on the birth parents and be attentive to them, but also be
excited that it was our son up in that room with them.
went smoothly from here on out but honestly it was just the beginning of
an extremely hard 48 hours. There is nothing that can prepare you for watching a birth mom and dad
give their child to you. We have plenty of pictures from our first meeting
with our son but sometimes when I look at those pictures they don’t feel true to me because what wasn’t
shown was the complete heartbreak that is happening for the birth parents.The pictures show smiles on our faces but what wasn’t shown was the battle that was happening
within his birth mom. What wasn’t shown was the severe anxiety I was facing in
those first 48 hours of his life.
I went into this adoption process thinking there would be difficulties along the road but never thought that the hardest part would actually be after our son was born.
share the extremely hard and personal struggle I had (specifically with anxiety) but then I realized there
could be another family out there that is facing this same thing and I want more than anything else for
them to not feel alone, because that’s how I felt.I felt like I was the only adoptive mama out there that was struggling to meet her son for the first time.
You see, what those pictures don’t show are me going back and forth between our room and our birth
parent’s room because my anxiety was so bad that it was literally causing me to be sick.
I remember sitting in the bathroom of our hospital room alone and feeling the attacks from Satan like
I’d never felt them before. I kept hearing, “You can’t do this. You can’t raise someone else’s baby.
You’ll never measure up.”
And I sat on the floor of that hospital bathroom and cried out to the Lord to help me.
I felt like I had all of this pressure to look like I had it all together on the outside or the nurses,
doctors and even his birth parents would see what those lies were telling me, that I really couldn’t do this.
Those next 48 hours were spent with us going back and forth between our two hospital rooms.
Sometimes we would all spend time together in their room and sometimes we would give them time
alone with him.
Our first time alone with our son was not how I imagined it to be at all.
I watched my husband and how he seemingly just bonded with our son as he had with our three other
children right after they were born. He was a rock through it all and the joy and pride you could see as he
held his son was amazing to watch.
I held him and silently prayed that I would be enough for him. I prayed for his birth parents and the
struggle that they were having a few doors down. And most of all I prayed for this little boy who
didn’t get to have a say in any of this. He was undoubtedly going to face some very real and hard
heartache, losing everything that was familiar to him; his first mama’s voice and her smell.
And this is something he will likely have to deal with the rest of his life.Often times we think of trauma only happening in adoptions of older children or children from other
countries but the reality is that these babies who are adopted from birth are experiencing and will
continue to experience the trauma of losing their first parents. Processing those things is still hard,
and as I sit here my eyes well up with tears thinking about all he has faced in his short year of life so far.
me. Hear my plea…Yet I will praise you. Yet I will sing of your name. Here in the shadows, here I will
offer my praise. What’s true in the light, is still true in the dark. You’re good and your kind and you
care for this heart. Lord I believe, you weep with me.”
reminding us that what is true in the light is still going to be true in the dark. He really is good and kind
and he cares for us. He cares for the adoptive parents. He cares about the birth parents. And he cares a
bout the adoptees. Our son may have to face a lot of trauma throughout his life simply because he is
adopted (and maybe he won’t), but you better believe that the God we serve will be there in the midst of
that pain speaking truth in the darkness and weeping with us. We made it through those 48 hours at the
hospital and could feel God in the midst of those dark hours.
bonding and zero anxiety. The “light” sure is a more enjoyable side to be on but looking back we
see God in the midst of the darkness and saw His truth shine through.
We would do it all over again to get our son, August Abishai (his name means Revered and God’s chosen
one).He is a true joy and the bonding happened so easily after those days in the hospital.
fears were ever there in the first place. August has fit so seamlessly into our family and we are so
completely blessed to be called his mommy and daddy. He will always know how much his first mama
and daddy loved him and we are so thankful for the amount of consistent contact we have with them still.
and CAC with us through the process was invaluable. Without them, the already tough to navigate
adoption process was made so much easier knowing we had someone to answer our questions, guide us,
and someone who truly cared for all people involved.
It’s an amazing picture of our own redemption; how we are adopted into the family of God when we
put our faith and trust in Him, the creator of all things. He pulls us up out of the muck of our sinfulness
and tragedy and gives a place in His eternal family.