I (Rachel) have had many occasions to fret over making a good first impression, and many opportunities to work my shy-old-self into a big ball of stress about whether I'd be able to let that "inner me" out to shine, or whether I'd end up staring at the floor, just nodding and smiling unable to come up with any of that elusive "small talk" stuff that seems to come so easily to other people.
I've never in my life been as nervous for something as I was for the phone call to a potential birth mother that is interested in choosing us. Adam is great in social settings, and will usually get your entire life story in the first five minutes of meeting you, before you even realize what has happened. (That is why he is affectionately nicknamed ‘The Mayor’) Truth be told though: Adam was just as nervous as I was.
I've been thinking hard ever since the phone conversation, trying to come up with a good parallel event that would allow me to explain to all of you who haven't been matched (yet), or aren't on this adoption journey, exactly what the anticipation felt like (anyone remember those ketchup commercials back in the day?). I can't. It's a thing unto itself. ::cue the Carly Simon tune::
The closest thing I could come up with was going away to US Army basic training. I moved across the country (Alabama of all places!). I had picked a career path that was sure going to change my life (it did), and I was so excited to be on this journey to becoming who I am (and being all that I could be). But I was also pretty terrified. I knew in the back of my head that this move was momentous. I knew that for the rest of my life, things would be marked as "before" and "after" this particular point.
That's pretty much how I felt prior to making the phone call to speak with the birth mother that chose us. Well, like that, and also kinda like I had the flu (stomach or otherwise).
The questions we had were specific regarding things that will or won't occur at the hospital, and what role we will play during that time. Then there were equally specific questions about what will happen, you know, for the rest of the child's life. No biggie. The kid is the size of an eggplant right now, mind you. But yeah, let's totally sit down and map out exactly how many pictures, letters, visits, and phone calls will occur, and when they'll happen. In fact, why don't I just get my iPad out, and we can go ahead and get some dates on the calendar. ::EyeRoll::
In the end--shocking I'm sure to nobody but me--it wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated. In fact, it was great, really. Turns out, the birth mother felt pretty much the same way about the questions as we did. She already knew that she didn't yet know exactly what she wanted at the hospital and beyond. We got the chance to tell her we were open to whatever she wanted, and that we'd work with whatever she was comfortable with. I felt good about getting that out there, and I think she felt good about hearing it. We even got a chance to just laugh and talk a little like regular people, as opposed to "birth parents" and "adoptive parents". It was really nice.
For all the nerves, the worrying, and the panic ahead of time, once we got going it felt quite comfortable, natural, and normal. The agency tells prospective adoptive couples time and time again, "When you find 'your match', it just feels right." This truth is further echoed by the many couples who have already adopted and say over and over that they can't explain it, but when they finally met their child's birth parents, they just "knew". Sitting here days later, I can't explain it either, but I can tell you that it feels like we just "fit together" in a good way.
We have been excited about becoming parents for so long now. That excitement has become all the more real. And now, after having chatted with the birth mom, the excitement has shifted again. We are no longer just excited to have "a baby"; we are now even more excited, thrilled, and honored to become parents to this baby. If his or her birth mother is any sign--and I suspect she is--this baby will undoubtedly be one amazing kid.
If you've made it this far....have a cookie on me!
I've never in my life been as nervous for something as I was for the phone call to a potential birth mother that is interested in choosing us. Adam is great in social settings, and will usually get your entire life story in the first five minutes of meeting you, before you even realize what has happened. (That is why he is affectionately nicknamed ‘The Mayor’) Truth be told though: Adam was just as nervous as I was.
I've been thinking hard ever since the phone conversation, trying to come up with a good parallel event that would allow me to explain to all of you who haven't been matched (yet), or aren't on this adoption journey, exactly what the anticipation felt like (anyone remember those ketchup commercials back in the day?). I can't. It's a thing unto itself. ::cue the Carly Simon tune::
The closest thing I could come up with was going away to US Army basic training. I moved across the country (Alabama of all places!). I had picked a career path that was sure going to change my life (it did), and I was so excited to be on this journey to becoming who I am (and being all that I could be). But I was also pretty terrified. I knew in the back of my head that this move was momentous. I knew that for the rest of my life, things would be marked as "before" and "after" this particular point.
That's pretty much how I felt prior to making the phone call to speak with the birth mother that chose us. Well, like that, and also kinda like I had the flu (stomach or otherwise).
The questions we had were specific regarding things that will or won't occur at the hospital, and what role we will play during that time. Then there were equally specific questions about what will happen, you know, for the rest of the child's life. No biggie. The kid is the size of an eggplant right now, mind you. But yeah, let's totally sit down and map out exactly how many pictures, letters, visits, and phone calls will occur, and when they'll happen. In fact, why don't I just get my iPad out, and we can go ahead and get some dates on the calendar. ::EyeRoll::
In the end--shocking I'm sure to nobody but me--it wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated. In fact, it was great, really. Turns out, the birth mother felt pretty much the same way about the questions as we did. She already knew that she didn't yet know exactly what she wanted at the hospital and beyond. We got the chance to tell her we were open to whatever she wanted, and that we'd work with whatever she was comfortable with. I felt good about getting that out there, and I think she felt good about hearing it. We even got a chance to just laugh and talk a little like regular people, as opposed to "birth parents" and "adoptive parents". It was really nice.
For all the nerves, the worrying, and the panic ahead of time, once we got going it felt quite comfortable, natural, and normal. The agency tells prospective adoptive couples time and time again, "When you find 'your match', it just feels right." This truth is further echoed by the many couples who have already adopted and say over and over that they can't explain it, but when they finally met their child's birth parents, they just "knew". Sitting here days later, I can't explain it either, but I can tell you that it feels like we just "fit together" in a good way.
We have been excited about becoming parents for so long now. That excitement has become all the more real. And now, after having chatted with the birth mom, the excitement has shifted again. We are no longer just excited to have "a baby"; we are now even more excited, thrilled, and honored to become parents to this baby. If his or her birth mother is any sign--and I suspect she is--this baby will undoubtedly be one amazing kid.
If you've made it this far....have a cookie on me!
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