The 16th

I thought I would continue our "adoption week" and write a bit about the 16th, but first I feel compelled to post that I am going to run in the Orphan Run 5k (http://www.orphanrun5k.com/) memorial day weekend and have been searching the internet for a quickie training plan....while eating cookie dough.  
One of my sisters has agreed to do this with me and I'm hoping I can peer pressure my mom and other sister into it as well.  The couple that organized this race is trying to bring an adorable little girl home from South Korea (we met them at Auburn and relied on their adoption knowledge when we started our own adoption journey).  This adoptive mom has a blog too (see SendingHugs in the side bar) and has a beautiful recent post on infertility.


February the sixteenth brought a new challenge:  Our social worker wanted me to come to south Florida to meet the birth mother while R was still in the hospital.  
I like to think I'm "independent".  
I'd desperately wanted a child for over two years.  
There was a baby girl in South Florida waiting for me.  
I did not want to go.   


The 14th had introduced hope and the immense fear of being hurt again.  The failed placement was still at the front of my mind.  The 15th had shown me what my world looks like with my strong, dependable husband in a hospital bed.  I wanted to eat chocolate cake and take a very long nap, not drive across the state to meet a birth mother without R.  Logic, and R's insistance, prevailed.  


My brave sister-in-law skipped class (a big deal in law school), drove to our house, and rode with me to South Florida.  C made this life changing drive feel more like a fun road trip.  We talked about boys, debated the best car snacks, passed beautiful orange groves, and, oh yes, chose Squirmy's name.  People often ask how we chose her name.  I always say that R was unconscious so he didn't really get a say....and people laugh because they think I'm joking.  H and C helped brainstorm names during the drive to meet her.  Once we said it, I couldn't really imagine it being anything else.  And we told R later, once he was coherent.


C and I met our social worker and Bethany's pregnancy counselor in the hospital waiting room.  The birth mother was getting ready to meet us.  Two hours later, we got called into her room.  She was very welcoming and I immediately felt like she wanted us to be there.  We stayed in her room for a while, and then went to the waiting room to meet the birth father.  We then went as a group downstairs to the NICU waiting area and the birth father went in to see the baby (only two people per baby are allowed in the NICU).  Then the birth mother and I went in.  And this young girl became our birth mother.  And I met our daughter.


We were in a small, dark side room, dressed with yellow smocks.  Our birth mom is much shorter than me.  She picked up the child she had carried, kissed her, and handed her to me.  She watched me holding Squirmy (who was asleep and still) and asked if we knew what we were going to name her.  Her eyes watered, but she kept back tears.  We talked about how beautiful Squirmy is.  I know that our birth mom made many bad decisions.  But I also know she was confident she was making a good decision, deciding to give the child she carried a home.  I'm so grateful for this memory - the two of us with Squirmy.  Difficult can be beautiful.  


Around 11 pm, everyone decided everyone needed to get some rest so C and I went to find food and the hotel that C had booked for us that night.  If I had rules for adoption, like Gibbs on NCIS, rule #1 would probably state Be Flexible.  Although, if I were an NCIS character, I'd want to be Ziva.