When my husband and I first learned that we couldn’t
have children, it was a pretty big shock to us. We cried a lot, we got
frustrated a lot, we even took refuge in our private little studio apartment for
a few months and then finally we learned to live with it. When one learns
reproducing isn’t as easy as it seems to be, you start to think about so much
more than just “should we have a baby?” I started thinking about the things it
meant to me on being a mom. Does it mean I should be the one giving birth? Does
it mean I should be there from the beginning of his or her life? Would I even
be good at being a mom? Can I be patient or understanding with a non-speaking
human that cries almost constantly? At first we started to talk about surrogacy
and we even had a few people offer to be surrogates for us. Then we discussed
adoption. Whoa- adoption. Can we even afford to adopt? No, probably not. We
should revisit adoption in a few years, or decades. That was that, and we began
living our life with the understanding that we wouldn’t have children on our
terms but more on “the world’s” terms, whatever that meant.
I remember the day like it was just yesterday. Devon and
I were driving down the road talking about what we needed at the grocery, and
then out of nowhere he tells me someone had called him and asked him if we were
interested in adopting their child. “Wait, what?!” was my first reaction. Someone wants to give us a baby? They want to
give us a baby that we have been trying for 3 years to have on our own? Of
course we want their child! Unfortunately the sensible man I’m married to talks
about finances, our small studio apartment, work, and all of the other
perfectly rational reasons why this would probably never work. And so begins
our talk about whether or not we could even consider adopting. Well five, long,
miserable, drawn out minutes later we decide that hell yes we wanted to adopt
this little baby.
A week later, we sit down and meet the birth mother. We
talk about her health and why she decided to put her baby up for adoption.
There were many tears, laughs and nervous silences. But at the end of the day
we all decided this was the best choice and that Devon and I were going to
adopt a little boy. After that meeting, it took us about another week to decide
to tell our parents that they were going to be grandparents. Of course, there were
some uncertainties about the adoption. It was going to be an open adoption and
yes our son was going to know his biological mom. It seems as though many
elderly people find adoption unsettling. We got many questions like “Why does
he need to know his birth mother?” and “Are you sure you want to adopt another woman’s
baby?” and of course the most common one “When will it be finalized?” It seemed
as though many people were afraid to open up their heart to this amazing little
boy, my son, until they knew for sure that he would be ours. At the beginning I
was a little nervous about saying we were adopting. I myself asked similar
questions, “Will he love his biological mom more than me?” “Will he feel
rejected as a boy knowing that his biological mom gave him up, even if it was
for good reasons?” and my most common questions I kept asking myself “What if
she backs out of the adoption at the last minute?”
Two weeks after we met with this amazing woman, who
wanted to bless us with her unborn son, we received a phone call at 5:30 in the
morning saying her water broke and she was going to the hospital. Holy Shit! He’s
coming 5 weeks early and we are totally not prepared. What do we do? First step
is buying a car seat. So on the way to the hospital we stop by Wal-Mart and
purchase a newborn’s car seat, and a little cushion meant for holding a newborn’s
head more still in the new car seat. By
the way, this is a pointless purchase because the hospital staff is trained to
take them out, throw them on the ground, and use a receiving blanket instead. Wow,
this is really happening. We wait at the hospital all day, stressing, freaking
out and running to Target buying anything we can possibly think of that we
might need. My friends came to the hospital and threw me a small baby shower
with lots of diapers, clothes, bottles, and twice as much of everything else as
we could possibly need. Devon and I were beyond blessed and neither one of us
could believe what was happening. Our son, Josiah Ray Baxter was born at 7:25pm
that night.
Over two and half years have gone by since that day and
man oh man have I learned a lot. I always thought that parenthood would be like
a perfect little fairy tale, that there wouldn’t be any problems, ever. Ha! I
was in for a big shock. Growing up, I thought the world was a perfect place.
People didn’t argue back and forth all the time, babies didn’t poop on their
moms in the shower (which YES, YES, YES they do!!!) and beautiful, perfect
little boys didn’t get upset with their beloved mommies. Our amazing son is so
independent and has taught me so much in these very short couple of years. I
have learned from this innocent, curious little boy how to be patient, love uncontrollably
and especially how to adapt to wildly imperfect and downright strange
situations (like poop in the shower).
At the beginning, it was so hard to figure out the best
parenting skills to use. There were so many books on different ways to parent
your child. There is Authoritarian Parenting, “which is
essentially built upon structure, blind obedience and authority. Authoritarian
parents believe that children thrive in a home where there is structure,
boundaries, strict routines, firm discipline, and high levels of well-defined
parental authority.” (Lowe 1) Then there was Permissive Parenting, “which
is essentially the opposite of authoritarian parenting. Permissive parents tend
to be much more relaxed and flexible in their style of parenting, and aren’t
too worried about structure or authority.” (Lowe 2) And then there was
Attachment Parenting. “Attachment Parenting focuses on the nurturing
connection that parents can develop with their children. That nurturing
connection is viewed as the ideal way to raise secure, independent, and
empathetic children.” (WebMD)
By the time we got into a few
chapters of any one book or magazine or web article, whatever the author was
saying just stopped making sense. Devon
and I decided the best thing to do was just love the snot out of our little
boy. We decided to teach him everything
we could think of, to keep playing with him when we were tired, to enjoy every
last minute. The rest has fallen into
place nicely. He has structure, but his
life isn’t built on discipline. He gets to snuggle and sleep with mamma from
time to time, but he knows when it’s time for “night night”. He gets away with things every once in a
while, but he sure does get tired of time-outs sometimes too.
In the end, I’ve found that I love
being a mom. I love giving 110% when I’ve
run out of energy. Adopting wasn’t that
hard, or expensive, now that the dust has settled. And hey, even getting pregnant seems to be an
obstacle we can overcome, because after 5.5 years of trying, the doctors say
that I’m 6 weeks pregnant today. Who knew!
The timing of our lives may not have been our first choice, but I’m
starting to get the picture that it couldn’t have been much more perfect, and
maybe there’s someone out there who is helping us along the way. The biggest lesson I’ve learned? Being a mother isn’t always cupcakes or PTA
meetings, but it’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received, and I’ll never give it
up.
** Work Cited Page to be included in Final Draft**
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