Installment two of six-part domestic adoption saga


Birth Mother Three: The Mystery
This time felt for real. She wanted no contact, and we agreed. Two months later we got the call to come to the hospital; the mother had gone into labor, and our baby would soon be delivered. We arrived and waited in the lobby for hours, receiving updates regularly from the nurses. When the hospital social worker approached us with instructions to call our facilitator, my heart sank. I could barely hold the phone, I was shaking so. Then the voice on the other end told me that indeed, yes, the mother had changed her mind. She had decided to place our baby with Social Services. We were stunned. Our attorney came to the hospital to talk with her, but it did no good. A clergyman spoke with us, and we prayed. As I opened my eyes, I saw my husband of 10 years crying for the second time in our life together.

When we arrived home, I basically went into seclusion. I felt shocked, heartbroken and humiliated. I had no way of explaining to myself what had happened, let alone to the rest of the world.

Birth Mother Four: J and Justin
We heard from our facilitator late one evening and were put in touch with "J" that same night. J was 18 years old and married with two small children. This baby was not conceived with her husband, which was why she was making an adoption plan. She had no prenatal care and was hiding the pregnancy from everyone except her husband.

A few weeks later I had arranged for her to see a doctor, and while she was in the doctor's office I received her frantic call. I had to hurry to the hospital, because she had gone into labor! Just my luck, I was lathered down with hair color.

The first time we actually met J was in the hospital. She had already given birth to a baby boy. We named him Justin. We were told he was having some problems breathing and that his little face was bruised from the fast delivery. The nurses took us to the infant intensive care unit. As we walked toward him I thought, Oh my God, oh my God! I placed my hand on his little tummy in a daze of disbelief: I am actually touching a baby. Would he really be mine? I stayed with him through the night, running back and forth to spend time with J also.

By morning the doctors had determined that Justin had No Will to Thrive Syndrome, which basically means that he would not eat. Well, that's all I needed to hear: My mommy-will-make-things-all-better instinct took over.

Find out where this domestic adoption saga leads:

Part 3: Meeting with Disappointment

Part 4: A Change in Course

Part 5: Finding Emily

Part 6: Epilogue

Part 1: The Beginning

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