The Party

Not long ago I faced my future and my past, face-to-face, in the life of another woman. It was at a 1st birthday party. A birthday party for a little girl with Ds who had been adopted. A girl who had been adopted by a family that had hoped to adopt MY little one with Down syndrome. The birth-mom, birth-grandma and birth-sister were all at the party, as were Lauren, Ada, Adrienne (our respite provider for Ada) and me. There was talk that the birth mom "Amy", may not come to the party as she didn't like crowds or being around people she didn't now well. But she was there and when we sang "Happy Birthday" to her/their baby, she was overcome with emotion and left to go sit in her car. That simple shift in Amy's demeanor while anticipating the singing of the song and then hearing "Happy Birthday dear Baby" took her by surprise and took me right back to a place I once envisioned myself. I went out to her car to talk to her, knowing that I may never be in that situation again-one in which I was watching another person (very different than me, yet the same) show me my feelings. It was both surreal and life-affirming.

Could that really have been me? Did I really come "this" close to writing an adoption plan for Lauren a.k.a. Anna a.k.a. Emerson?? Yes, I did and frankly I am okay with that. We don't always get to choose what we take on in life or what we want. But, I chose Lauren. When Amy left the party to collect herself in her car, I knew that a piece of me went out to the car with her. That shadow of emotion spoke so directly to me because i've thought about it a hundred-million times. How could I maintain a relationship with a family that was raising my daughter? Would I look forward to the photos and updates or would they break my heart over and over again? How would I feel if she got hurt or, for that matter, got picked to be in a calendar?

After leaving the hospital with Lauren we were able to stay at a friend's home while we sorted out the details of the adoption plan. So much was up in the air as the 2nd family we had chosen was out of state on vacation and we were not well-informed about inter-state adoption policy. We did not plan on taking Lauren to our home as we didn't want to confuse our other children about what we were doing.

We left the hospital on Friday and knew that on Sunday, the social worker would come pick up my baby to take her away, to, eventually, meet up with her new family. My baby would be taken away in a strange carseat and I didn't know when I would see her again.

It was truly more than I could bear. Having gotten to just that point, I don't know how some mothers have the strength to go forward. There is nothing selfish about adoption on either side of it. I sat in that friends home holding Lauren and howling with tears of pain at the thought of sharing her with another family. My heart was literally melting away in little piles at my feet.

My love for this little person was so real, so intense, so life-altering. I found Lauren to be the most precious little person I had laid eyes on in a very long time. Holding her and gazing into her sweet face erased all of the fears I had about Down syndrome. She was here and perfectly formed and meant to live. And I did not want her to leave me. I did not want to get pictures of her with another Mommy and Daddy, with toys that we didn't own or wearing clothes that we hadn't seen before. I didn't want someone else telling me what she was doing or what she was working on. I wanted that all for myself.

While Amy seemed mostly at peace with her decision, I know in my heart that I would not have been; it would have haunted me and hounded me for...ever. I needed to chose Lauren so that I could become a better version of myself and open myself up to a world where the possibilities were unknown, yet, endless. I truly admire Amy for giving this family a most treasured gift and my heart goes out to what might be a daily struggle for her to reconcile her decision. Her-their baby is beautiful though, loved by many and given the choice of life. That is perfect.

The gift of choice

Tonight, Brothers and Sisters, one of my favorite TV shows, revisited the topic of adoption. In the series, Kitty, (Calista Flockhart) and her husband Robert, (Rob Lowe) are given a second chance by a birth mother with whom they would like to write an adoption plan. Kitty and Robert are unable to conceive on their own and were selected by this woman, a very ambitious and hard-working woman of color to parent her child.


Brothers and Sisters always does a good job of invoking common human experiences with a full, rich smorgasbord of feelings. The show gives you the meat as well as the potatoes, the gravy, the cranberry sauce and the pecan pie.

Tonight's show got me choked up for a variety of reasons: the most obvious being that Chaz and I thought that Lauren would be adopted by another family after she was born. This is such a complex, painful, and yet, somehow happy thing for me to talk about it. Complex because the decision of adoption was not entered into lightly, nor did its conversation ever come without anxiety, tears, fears, relief and amazement. Complex because there is a lot to learn and do before a baby can be adopted, either into or away from your family. Happy, because we exercised our choice on so many levels. How many times, in ones life, do you get to really choose something that has already been given to you?

That is what we did with Lauren. When I found out at 15 weeks gestation that Lauren had that extra 21st chromosome, aka, Down syndrome, I could not believe my fortune. How could this be? I already had a daughter with special needs, I already had suffered through the loss of a son, I already had a very demanding & spirited young son, I already had made room in my home/life for a child against my wishes (my step son who is now a very welcome part of the family).

Part of the adoption process is reviewing the profiles of adoptive families. There is a woman in Cincinnati who helps facilitate the adoption of babies with Down syndrome and the families eager to raise them. I contacted her once we had decided to pursue adoption. She sent us the names and pertinent information of about 5 families.

One of these families described was a man and woman who embodied so much of what I hoped for: the mother was trained in the "Montessori Method" i.e. she had taught in a Montessori school, something I really like and have since enrolled our 5 year old son in for Kindy and 1st grade, and the dad was a very logical, reasonable person who brought a true sweetness to the relationship. I was immediately attracted to this couple as I saw in them, part of what I saw in my self and wanted for this baby.

"Susan" and "Aiden" were everything I wanted in an adoptive couple: close, kind, caring, open-minded, professional, intelligent, informed and willing. They did not have any children of their own but demonstrated a real love for the children in their family as well as a deep appreciation for people with Down syndrome.

This was both a very open and very complicated relationship for us all. I wanted them to know everything about me: how i loved my kids, loved being a mom, never thought that I'd be in this situation and wanted what was best for everyone involved. Not that I know what is best for everyone - I really don't. I wish I did.

And, "Susan" and "Aiden", were very open with me: we had many, many long and loving email exchanges. They got to know me, I got to know them. At one point, Mother's Day 2007, we packed up the van and drove to their home town, about 3 hours away. We stayed at a hotel and made arrangements to share a meal and have some time together.

It was an interesting visit and not without its share of questions. In this situation of adoptive mother:birth mother, there is this almost tangible emotional dialogue of proving oneself and seeking proof. Not only did I want to feel completely liked by them, I also wanted to feel, without a doubt that I had chosen the right family for my baby.

It's an almost impossible situation. I wasn't 16 years old, I wasn't naive about the pain this would cause, I wasn't new to the concept of loss and I wasn't really sure how one goes about picking a family for a baby that is growing rapidly within one's own belly.

What was I afraid of? That is one of the questions I can now ask and answer. So, what is it? What made me think that 1. I couldn't handle having a baby with Down syndrome, 2. That I could survive the experience of handing over my child to another couple and 3. How would this fit in with the rest of my difficult and challenging life?

I thought that having a baby with Down syndrome was going to be horrible. I envisioned a cute-ish baby with her tongue hanging out of her month, a lifetime of doctor visits; being 89 and still being the parent responsible for taking my daughter to the dentist. I thought of the long days of therapies, the endless need for patience, acceptance and some brand of deception that told me that it would be "okay" when, really, what I really thought way "God, no".


And, you know what? It is a lot of work and a lot of appointments for therapy and evaluations. I now pray that I will make it to 89 so that I can accompany Lauren to her dentist appointment, if she needs me to be there.

I have been working on this post since Sunday evening. It is not done: I have not yet explained what happened with me, the adoptive parents, our plans, our relationship (it's good!) or anything else brought up in this post. but, I feel like if I don't get this online, this will be a forever post and I really wanted to share this.
so, thanks for reading this.. Bless you all for being in my life - in one way or another.