Part 2 - Waiting
Part 3 - A New Goal
Part 4 - Comfort
Part 5 - Chosen
Part 6 - Charlotte
Part 7 - Expecting
Part 8 - Shopping
Part 9 - Birthday
March 15, 2005
The next morning we quickly shower, dress and eat. Eli finishes installing the car seats. I take pictures of everything for our babies to look back on when we tell them the story of this day. My picture taking is driving Eli nuts --- but, I feel compelled.
We previously purchased a heart-shaped locket for this day, for Charlotte to put pictures of her babies in, if she wants too. On our way out we stop at the town's flower shop. It feels so lame to pick out a bouquet for someone who is giving us so much more. I want it to be beautiful and something she can look at and maybe feel something good, perhaps a bit of our love for her. Not too big, not to fancy, but something special. I guess I don't really know what to get her that would express our gratitude. Finally, we choose a simple spring bouquet. It somehow seems fitting. I hope it is.
I hold the bouquet the entire long drive. My feelings about the flowers go back and forth. I am so anxious. Finally, we get there. Just through the hospital doors we meet Brenda, Charlotte's facilitator. (She is helping Charlotte through her adoption plan.) We follow her into an elevator and go up a few levels. As the elevator slows to a stop, the knots in my stomach tighten. Soon, we enter Charlotte's room. It's an awkward greeting. We must have given her the flowers. Two nurses roll the babies in. But, we have arrived too early. She wants her babies baptized first. Baptized!?!? I don't! (Of course, I don't say so.) We exit the room and wait. Being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are taught babies are born innocent and I believe it! If they die before the age of accountability (8 years old) then they return straight back to live with our Heavenly Father. But, my faith is not hers. And they are not my babies --- yet. And, anyway, an infant baptism won't count for anything in my faith. As we wait, I calm myself, but, they don't baptize the babies. I don't know why not exactly, but I, secretly, am relieved.
Back in Charlotte's room, we get to hold them. I am afraid we are holding her babies too long, but we keep holding them. They are so beautiful and so tiny! Charlotte shows us pictures of the night before with her other two sons, Jesse (21) and Phillipe (19?), loving on them and saying good-bye to their precious new siblings. I decide it was good we didn't disturb that last night. (Thank you Eli for keeping us home!) Now, we get to take the pictures. But, this time, I hate taking the pictures --- I take them only because I still feel compelled. I want our babies to see this day. I want them to know it is a happy day for us. Charlotte asks to have both babies. I take a picture of her holding the two, not realizing what she is preparing to do. It's a beautiful picture. (This is the picture that will begin their baby album.) She then places her baby girl in Eli's arms and her baby boy in mine. I take more pictures as the meaning of what she just did sinks in.
A nurse comes in and we have to lay the babies back in their roll-away cribs. We start leaving too. I panic! I didn't say what I wanted to say! What did I want to say? I didn't know. I couldn't think. I check with Eli to confirm that this is the end of our visit. He nods. I looked back and see a tear stream down Charlotte's cheek. I want to run to her. Give her some sort of comfort that I can not give. We are leaving with her babies! Following the babies back to the nursery, I force those unpleasant feelings out of my mind. Wouldn't she want me to be happy? She made me their mother! My anxiety dispels with joy.
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(The rest of the week is a fuzzy memory. Some events may be slightly out of order, in fact, a whole day seems to have gone missing! The following is told the best I can remember it.)
We must have gone back out for the car seats because a nurse present us with the babies' tiny footprints and I set those memorabilia inside one of those. Both babies have the same flat foot. Inside the nursery, I first remember pulling out the little newborn-size gown my mother-in-law bought for the first baby girl (the first one we were going to adopt but didn't). It's long and white with pink trim and tiny pink flowers on the bodice --- it's beautiful. It's also way too big for her. In fact, everything I brought is too big --- except one little pink headband. I dress her in the gown anyway, because I have nothing better for her. Then, I am suppose to change her diaper with Eli and the nurse watching. She is so tiny with only a round rump --- no bum cheeks! My husband is so nervous for me that it seems to become an impossible task. But, I do it --- ever so carefully. Once accomplished, a nurse shows us the tiny milk bottles and lets us know how much they drink. The nurses already have them on a schedule. Baby boy eats first. 1/2 hour later, baby girl eats. They will need to be fed every 3 hours. I feel terribly guilty I can not give them mother's milk.
In the meantime, we are given forms to write their names on. Eli writes my middle name down for our girl and Charlotte for her middle name. Payton is a name Eli and I found in a baby name book (since he won't go for Joshua). I really wanted Ezekiel or, maybe, Andrew, instead. Eli asks me for the boy's name. I am to choose his? But, how can I choose on the spot? So, I choose the one we had picked together, Payton and Job after Eli's middle name. They are named now. But I can't seem to call them by the names we chose. I find myself calling my boy, Little Mister, instead.
A nurse sends us to a section of the nursery where we can be alone with the babies. We hold and rock them while admiring their newness. They feel like nothing and bundled in a blanket they look much too small. I can't get enough of their baby smell. There hair is feathery soft black with gentle waves. I am fascinated with Alyssa's crinkled and almost pointed ears. She is so beautiful --- like a little princess.
As I feed, change and rock my helpless babies over and over, a feeling of great responsibility overcomes me. I begin to see how these simple little tasks of love are never-ending and will become my life for months on end. I am already beginning to tire --- yet, I desire and welcome these feelings as a blessing from God. However, I do feel so ignorant and unqualified and I wish for my own mother to take my hand and give me step-by-step instructions. Knowing that other new mother's have started parenthood with little to no experience encourages me.
I hold my baby boy out in front of me. He opens his eyes and seems to take me in. As I stare back into his eyes, I make promises to do my best at being a good mom for him and his sister. I do want so badly to be good enough for them. It feels like we are speaking to each other's souls through our eyes. I feel a deep, deep love for them begin to grow inside of me. Eli tells of a similar experience he has while holding Alyssa.
We wait and wait and wait for them to release our babies from the hospital. A nurse tell us we can take a break whenever we want. We wait for the babies to go to sleep. But we can't break away from them.
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Hours later, Brenda comes back. She says she needs to meet with us. Then, maybe we can go. We leave the twins nestled together in one little crib to visit with Brenda in an empty waiting room. She asks us about a 20-hours program we needed to have done. Since we aren't doing foster care, we thought it didn't need to be done. We frantically rack our brain for any type of parent training we have received over the past year. Fortunately, we have done several hours in our 20-hours workbook. It is easy for me to come up with more than 20 hours because of other books I have read. She gives Eli a new 20-hours workbook to work on.
We learn, through her, that LDS Family Services' Headquarters will not release the babies to us tonight. We decide to check into a motel before going back to our babies. It's hard leaving them at the hospital. We must have grabbed a bite for dinner. After we check into a motel we get a phone call. That's when the nightmare begins.
Somehow, we find ourselves talking with Brenda in her office. She asks us on a scale of 1 - 10 how upset we would be if we didn't bring home the babies. How can you measure that? 10? No, not 10. 20? "30! maybe 100," I respond. She says stuff about other children needing a home. But in my heart I know there won't be another time. My heart can't take anymore of this, at least, not anytime soon. We take our dispair back to the motel.
This just can't be right! I feel so let down. We thought that the adoption was good-to-go. We've had 2 adoption facilitators helping us get everything in order. Now, headquarters is telling us that there are plenty of couples ready to take these babies home now. They say our babies will go into foster care and then to another couple. How can they be so cruel! Why won't they work WITH us! They brought us here! I poor my heart into a letter to Headquarters about our desire to adopt, our entire financial situation (which seems to be the problem), including what we have in our mortgage, and how much I desire to be these babies' mom --- but it doesn't do a bit of good. In the meantime, Eli's mom is back at home doing what she can about the Medicare issue. I just want to go back and hold the babies, but, there's just too much stuff to be doing while my heart is breaking.
Part 11 - His Will
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