Shepherd's Adoption Story, Part II

One week quickly turned into two. I missed my husband and Isla was starting to struggle with being away from her dad, our home, our routine, and with mom going to the hospital every day.  I prayed and prayed for a miracle, hoping with each new morning that I would walk into that hospital and Shep would be completely healed. The doctors had originally predicted he would be in the hospital for 3-4 weeks. He was already a week old when I got there, so I figured by my second or third week in Texas we'd be on our way home. Day by day it became obvious we were not going anywhere, anytime soon. And there was another big problem. The caseworker in Texas was adamant that we not do placement until the baby was discharged from the hospital. There was also an issue with the timing for ICPC, the interstate compact agreement that allows adoptive parents to leave state lines after placement, but before finalization. To get permission from ICPC can take anywhere from 3 days to 2 weeks depending on when the paperwork is processed and it cannot be started until after placement, which was being delayed(Does your brain hurt yet?). Everyday I sat with my son in the hospital with no legal right to have a say in any of his medical care. He was in limbo. WE were in limbo. Legal placement needed to happen, and soon, I KNEW it in my heart. I don't care to explain this part of the story in detail, it's not pretty and in the long run it really doesn't matter who said what, but just know this: I went to battle for my family, for my son. On a Saturday night I received a call from the Ogden LDSFS office that placement would be happening on Monday afternoon. I honestly couldn't believe it. I immediately called Ben to get a flight and lo and behold they were sold out, well kinda, there was one flight routed through New York and Georgia that cost $1200.00 dollars. Ahhh! Enter another miracle: An angel (you know who you are!) with a connection to Delta had a buddy pass for us. Ben flew into Oklahoma City on Sunday morning and then rented a car and drove 6 hours to Midland, Texas. After 10 years together we have rarely been apart and never for more than a few days. When he pulled into the driveway I felt like my heart was going to burst and all the anxiety and stress I had been carrying around for weeks seemed to lighten as our family was  finally reunited.

On Monday, March 18th we readied ourselves for the emotion that comes with placement day. We sat in an office at the church and talked about Shepherd, our stay in Texas, and how all these things had fallen into place. Shepherd's birthmom, Kathleen, was so strong and put on a brave face. Isla's birthmom, Cassie, had written a special note and sent it along with a little gift for Kathleen, from one birthmom to another. Kathleen read the note aloud and I struggled to hold my tears back as she read the sweet words Cassie had written to her about our family. The days leading up to placement had been tense, but in that moment the spirit was so strong and I hope in some way it was a comfort for Kathleen to have the support of another birthmom in our family, two women whose children are now siblings. It's clear that Shep is a special boy with lots of people who love him. We cried bittersweet tears and just like that, he was ours.

The next week and a half was great. We spent lots of time at the hospital, playing at the park, getting Mexican food at Rosa's, and eating donuts from the Southern Maid stand, all of these things within close proximity to the hospital. I visited cute baby stores and bought sweet little clothes to take Shepherd home in. We had hoped to leave as a family and I pictured all of us flying home together any day soon. Each day that passed with no improvement for Shep seemed like a defeat. His lungs were small because he was premature, but they just did not seem to be getting better the way they should have been. I began to worry if maybe something else was going on with him, something the hospital in Odessa may not have been able to detect. Ben and Isla flew home and I felt the full weight of the situation pressing in on me. How much longer would I have to stay in Texas, a week? a month? 2 months? Nobody had an answer for me. I sat at Shepherd's bedside day in and day out, waiting for something, anything to change. The Sunday after Ben and Isla left was Easter. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and figured I'd spend the whole day with Shepherd. His tolerance for sedatives is super high and that day he just couldn't seem to relax. I held his hand and sang to him and tried to get him to be calm, but he kept thrashing his head back and forth and I could see he was crying really hard, though no sound could be heard due to his breathing tube. It was heart breaking and made me feel completely powerless to help sooth him while he was so confined to the bed. Then his oxygen began to drop, and quickly. I could see the sudden stress in the nurses eyes and she asked if I'd like to wait out in the hall. I said no, I wanted to stay. His oxygen got so low that the sensor lost his heart rate, the vent stopped working, and they had to bag him, which is a balloon that they use to essentially give CPR. When the nurses were finally able to get him stable again I went over to hold his little hand and whisper to him. He looked up at me with the saddest little eyes and I knew: It was time to go. 

That evening I went home, exhausted and totally depleted. Shepherd's day had gone terribly and I knew it was time to go, but I had no idea how to get that to happen. Odessa Regional had already expressed their inability to transfer a baby on not only an oscillator vent, but nitric oxide as well. Two things that would make transport very difficult. A name floated on the egde of my mind. A friend we knew well in Colorado that was a Nurse Practitioner with an impressive resume. I hadn't spoken to her in years and didn't know what to say if I called her, how would I explain what was happening and all the medical terms in a way that would even make sense? I walked in the door, laid on the bed, and my phone rang. It was her.

My friend, Amy, knew exactly which questions to ask and understood the situation perfectly. She explained to me all that I would need to know to put the pieces together. She also gave me the number to Primary Children's NICU and told me to speak to Dr. Null, the Medical Director at PCMC, directly and ask that they come and pick us up. It turns out that only a handful of teams in the country have the ability to pick up a baby on the kind of life support Shep is on, and one of the best happens to be Life Flight in Salt Lake City, Utah. First thing in the morning I called PCMC. As chance would have it, Dr. Null just happened to be standing next to the nurse that answered my call and she put me right on with him. Within hours it was arranged and I was told to pack my bags because they were coming to pick us up the next morning. We were going home.  

Shepherd's Adoption Story, Part I

So, what's the story? 

Many people have asked me this question. It seems easy enough to answer, afterall, I lived it. But every single time I end up drawing blanks as I try to encompass all that has happened in the last month and a half into a simple sentence. In many ways, I have been incapable of even understanding it all myself. In an attempt to gather my thoughts and make sense of everything we've been through, here it is. The story. 

After 2 years full of heartbreak and sacrifice in adoption my patience had worn thin. Many days I would cry and wonder why building a family has to be so hard for us. Ben and I decided to become a licensed Foster family and open up every avenue possible for our children to come home. After months of preparation we were finally approved and ready to start taking children into our home. The first phone call we got from our social worker was perfect. Two small children that needed us. I was so excited to finally be getting more children in our home, but I wanted to make sure we were the right place for them. I prayed. The answer was no. What?! NO?! They were not meant to come to us. A week later we got another call for a newborn baby girl that needed a home. Again, we prayed. The answer was, again, no. I was so sad and questioned my faith and the clear answers we were receiving. I just couldn't understand why the Lord would say "no" after all this time. Only a few days later, on February 8th, we received an email from Kathleen, an expectant birthmom. Ben and I were out on a date when I saw the email on my phone. We pulled into a dark, empty parking lot and read it together. She was having a boy and he would have some special needs. His spine did not develop properly and we would not know the extent of how he would be affected until after birth. We needed to decide if that was something we could handle, and we had to decide quickly since he was scheduled to be born via C-section on March 18th. 

We cried and cried when we read her words. We were happy and sad and confused all at the same time. Before saying anything we decided to pray. In my minds eye I saw a boy in a wheelchair with lots of black hair. He was on a stage accepting his high school diploma and we were so proud of him. A well known primary song entered my mind and I heard the words to Nephi's Courage echoing,"I will go; I will do the thing the Lord commands.

I know the Lord provides a way; he wants me to obey." 

When I opened my eyes and looked at Ben, he was crying and said, "I think we're going to Texas". We knew. This was our son and nothing else mattered. The Lord knows us, he knows everything about us, and he knows what we are capable of so we have to trust him. We anxiously responded to Kathleen's email and hoped she would also know we were his family. She didn't have much time to decide, because a few short weeks later he surprised us all and was born February 28th, 5 weeks early.
I was beside myself when we found out he had been born. It was hard not to feel a little resentful towards the Lord's timing, I wanted so badly to be present for his birth. It wasn't until later that we realized, due to his birthmothers medical condition, that he most likely would not have made it another week in utero. His early delivery was,indeed, a blessing in disguise. He was immediately transported to the NICU in Odessa, Texas and we were told he may be there for at least 3 weeks. I could barely breath knowing our new baby was so far away in the hospital. Our past adoption experiences had also made me paranoid, worrying about all the things that could go wrong with a delayed placement. We waited a whole week and I couldn't take it anymore, I wanted, needed, to be there. 

Midland, Texas. Famously known as the childhood home of George W. Bush. It's extremely dry, flat, and hot. When Isla and I flew in we were amazed to see thousands of miles of dirt dotted with little, white, square patches as far as the eye could see. Oil riggs. The good news is that for what Midland lacks in scenery, it makes up for in plenty of Texas charm. Lots of oil money and a housing shortage meant that even the shady hotels were $150.00 a night and usually occupied by oil rigging crews. The LDS Mission Leader's wife, Stephanie, had been helping Kathleen with her birth plan and is a true example of what it means to serve others. She had asked if anyone in the ward knew of an apartment we could rent. Our prayers were answered when we received the most generous offer in the form of an email from a woman named Jamie. Her husband had tragically passed away in a car accident, 8 months earlier. They had raised his 5 children from a previous marriage and had another darling little girl together. When he passed away, the five older children had to go and live across the country with their biological family and she and her five year old daughter were left with each other, picking up the pieces after losing their entire world. As a result they had quite a few empty bedrooms and an extra car they would be happy to share with us. She said it would help them heal to serve  others. Even as a write this it brings tears to my eyes, and I cannot express the level of gratitude I feel for this sweet mother and daughter. We had a place to stay, a home with a sweet spirit, a car, but most of all we had friends. People who made us feel welcome and at home when we were most vulnerable. Jamie listened and reassured me in dark moments, she watched my daughter so I could go to the hospital, and Isla had a sweet playmate to keep her busy. I will never forget her loving Christ-like example and generosity to us during this time and at a time when they, themselves, are grieving.

The first time I walked into Odessa Regional Medical Center I was buzzing with nervous anticipation. I was thrilled to finally be meeting my new son, but we had limited information about his medical condition and I didn't know what to expect. I had prepared for the worst case scenario, which, with a diagnosis of Caudal Regression Syndrome, could be substantial. I had been reassured so many times in my prayers that he was going to be okay, but in that moment the fear crept its way into my subconscious. When I saw his tiny body with so many tubes and wires and beeping machines, it was heartbreaking, but I couldn't believe how amazing he looked. He does have some birth defects, due to unmanaged type II diabetes in his birthmom, but to me he looked so perfect in comparison to what I had prepared myself for that I was completely overjoyed. Oh, my, goodness, his cheeks and his HAIR! This kid had my heart at hello and I knew in that moment I would move mountains for him. Little did I know how much I would need to.  

It's a....

Boy!!!

That's right folks. After all our wishing and hoping and praying our prayers are finally being answered. A baby boy will be joining our family in...wait for it...2 WEEKS!!! We are still in shock. Someday soon I will write and tell you all the many beautiful details, until then, there are a few things that we want you to know. The first is that we are extremely happy. We have been praying for another baby every single day for the past 2 years and now that it's here on our doorstep we are overwhelmingly filled with peace and joy. The next thing we want you to know is that this little sweetie is going to be brilliant. He is going to be brave. And he is going to be special, literally 1 in 100,000. You see, he has something called Caudal Regression Syndrome. It means that his little legs did not develop properly and we will not know all the ways in which that will affect him until after he is born. The doctors are optimistic and his Birthmom says she feels him kicking all the time, which is a good sign. He is strong, he is a fighter, and he has a head full of thick, black, hair and chubby cheeks already visible on the sonograms. It has been a strange and wonderful experience to be presented with this situation and been given a choice. It means that we have had to draw ever so near to the spirit. It means recognizing that our hearts were being prepared for this long before now. It means that our capacity to love and trust in God is growing. It means that, really, everything is going to be okay. Please keep our family, the baby, and his amazing Birthmom in your prayers. Miracles are already unfolding before our eyes and we are going to need them. 

Love, 

Ben, Kindle, and Isla(very enthusiastic big sister) 

Merry and Bright

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Ben put together a little clip of our Christmas eve and morning with my family in tow. When I saw it I was taken by how magical it all seemed. In the original clips you can hear all the nuances of adult conversation in the background and it was a little chaotic. Once he put it to music it really struck me that the children are the ones making it magical. They have such a sweetness about them that, despite our sometimes frivolous adult worries, shines brightly in their eyes and excited little voices. At the beginning of the clip is a sound bite of Isla singing her version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" amid all the hustle and bustle. It makes my heart happy to hear her, walking around, oblivious, singing to her hearts content about Santa Claus. As we head into this new year, I hope your days are also merry and bright and filled with some small moments of magic and wonder. 

Let It Snow...

Dreaming

When I was a teenager a young, newlywed couple moved into our neighborhood. They were handsome and cute together and lived in a darling little starter home. That was when I first met Danielle Vaughn. She was so incredibly gifted in every way. She was musical and had short, platinum blonde hair to boot. I always was drawn to people with good hair. I began piano lessons soon after we met and even though I was still in high school I felt like she was a close friend and confidante. All these years later she is still my mentor and when I grow up I want to be just like her.  

A few months ago she invited me to come to Seattle to style a photo shoot for her newly released album, Dreams We Dream. People, you NEED this album in your collection. This album is a cup of hot tea on a cold November day. And while you're there you should also pick up a copy of Noel for Christmas, a warm blanket to go with that cup of tea. 

I had a seriously good time doing this shoot and I am so honored I got to be a part of the creative process. 

Here are a few behind the scenes pics:

Photo shoots are harder than they look! It was a long day, but I think the album cover turned out perfectly.

If you'd like to see Danielle perform locally, she will be here December 6th with her Jazz Trio at Slackwater Pub in Ogden. Get a  sitter because there will be no shortage of romance. (Wink wink) 

Thanks Danielle!

To Bee or Not To Bee...

The month of May. Let's just say that it ended so much better than it began. Here it is in pictures:

Memorial Day at the air show. It was so cold! It took us half an hour to run back to the car in the downpour, but it was a riot. Isla's Aunt April and I were giggling our heads off by the time we made it, drenched. Isla was safe and sound in her buggy. 

Fishing!! Isla and Olive went to the trout farm and caught their dinners. Isla insisted they hold hands on the way in. Sweet little loves.  

The first catch was so exciting! It is great to watch these experiences through your child's eyes. Isla was so brave and even "touched" the fish once it was swimming around in the bucket. And by "touched" I mean harassed the crap out of it while it swam in circles. 

Daddy caught the next one!

Okay. I know this is weird, but I love honey bees! I always have, even as a little girl I wasn't afraid of them. I remember there was one particular bush that was always full of bees along our route to school and I used to make Kit stop with me every morning so I could "pet" the bees. See, I told you. Weird. Anyway, one of our neighbors is an expert bee keeper and he agreed to show me the ropes, you know, just in case I want to take my love of honey bees to the next level. Luckily, Ben is just as big of a freak as I am and willing to humor me.   

See this lovely? She is the Queen Bee. You can tell by the size of her ba-donka-donk. You go girl.

Isla stayed busy during the bee keeping lesson by befriending our  neighbor's cute lop eared bunny rabbit. She was feeding him by hand! Good thing he was a gentle soul. 

Turning 2

Look at my baby girl! Isn't she beautiful? She's not so much a baby anymore. Sigh. Growing up is hard on mom and dad. 

Here is Isla's 2nd Birthday party in pictures. It turned out to be a magical night. We had grilled footlong hotdogs with mustard and sauerkraut or chili and cheese. Or both. And for the truly adventurous (or Columbian) BBQ sauce, jalepeno, and pineapple, oh my! There were buckets of bubble wands, water guns, sidewalk chalk, treats, and sparklers. And then there was the cake, made by yours truly and strawberry lemonade flavored. It was a labor of love and soooo delicious if I do say so myself.  

Happy Birthday Isla!

Cassie

Today is Birthmother's Day! I felt like today needed a special post. We want people to know that our most recent experiences do not reflect upon Birthmothers as a whole. In fact, the woman that hurt us never really earned that title. I tried to write a post that explained how I felt, but I just couldn't get it quite right. I realized that the only way for you to truly see how amazing Birthmoms are, is for you to hear from one directly. Cassie was gracious (and nervous!) to abide and I think her words are beautiful and perfect for today. I've had people ask me some strange and assuming questions about our relationship and I think after reading this you'll see why we choose open adoption. We love her.   

Being a Birthmom

Hi, I'm Cassie. I am Isla's birthmom. Kindle asked me to write a little blog post on what being a birthmom means to me. At first, I told her no way. Then I started thinking about what it feels like to be Isla's birthmom. First of all, I love LOVE being Isla's birthmom. She is the sweetest, most amazing little angel. I also love Isla's birth story and knowing that I had a part in delivering her to Ben and Kindle. What a miracle! We still laugh about the seemingly random sequence of events that brought us together. My favorite part about that is knowing none of it was random at all. Becoming Isla's birthmom has been my greatest blessing. It's also something I'm really proud of. For me, being a birthmom has changed my life in every way possible. Isla is most definitely on my mind every day. There are times when I literally find myself lost in thoughts of her. Some days are hard, most are great. Becoming a birthmom wasn't something I planned.  Would I take it back? Not for anything in the world. I love Ben and Kindle with all of my heart. I loved them before I met them. They have also helped me through the hardest time of my life. While I knew I was going to place Isla, I still dealt with grief. And oh man, was it ugly. Ben and Kindle saw the ugly times and still supported and loved me. Even in my grief and hard days, I knew Isla was where she is supposed to be. As a birthmom, I have met a lot of other birthmoms. Women of all ages, from all backgrounds that have also been a part of something amazing. Birthmoms are incredible. Hands down. I love being a part of this community and making it public that birthmoms are normal women. The stigma associated with birthmom isn't flattering. Nor is it the norm. We are typically over 20, educated, and drug free. We have jobs and supportive families. We place for the benefit of our babies. Not because we are unable to raise a child. In a perfect world, everyone would know that. Until then, I am going to advocate adoption (for Kindle!!!!) and I am going to support every birthmom. 
I love Isla with every bone in my body. I would do anything in the world for her. I love her face. I love her laugh and I looooove that she calls me Cass. I am so happy to be a part of her life. To watch her grow and learn and celebrate her life. She is a part of my life that I cherish. As is every memory of her. Love you Isla G. Forever and ever. Ben and Kindle, I love you both. Thank you for the prayers and constant blessings. 

A tribute to Kindle for Mother's Day. 
Dear Kindle, 
Thank you for your support. Thank you for being the most amazing mommy to Isla and teaching her everything she knows (shes a super kid!). Thank you for your random wolf emails, yummy dinners, perfect haircuts, text messages at the absolute right time, funny stories, and being my friend. Thank you for marrying Ben. He is the greatest daddy to little Isla G. I am sorry for your losses. I wish I could do anything to fix it. Again, thank you. You have been more generous and open than I ever would have imagined. (Or wanted? ha!) You have included me in so much. My gratitude can never be expressed in words. Kindle, I think you are the greatest. I am so excited for the blessings headed your way. Stay strong sister! Happy Mother's Day!! 

Thank you Cassie! 

A Study in Loss and Hope

Where to begin? I'm not sure. It all started with an email last November. Actually, it all started 7 years ago with the first of 6 miscarriages and subsequent discovery of complicated infertility. But that's a different story for another time. So I'll start with the most recent of defeats. Back to that email from last November. We had been published on the LDS Family Services website for almost 7 months when the email suddenly popped up in my inbox with the appealing name, Amelia, highlighted next to the subject line that unassumingly said, "Hello". She asked if we were still interested in adopting. She had browsed our profile and she knew with all her heart we were the family for her baby boy due in December, two days before Christmas. Of course, we were elated. I just KNEW we were having a boy and this confirmed I'd been right all along. Time passed, we talked often, and we loved Amelia from the start. But then, suddenly, the wind changed and those warm hopes of a new baby turned chilly. Overnight she became distant and easily upset and we felt the looming birth of her/our son begin to take its emotional toll. She stopped emailing us. We ached for contact from her, anything, just something to let us know if we had any hope of bringing this baby home. We prayed and I cried. A lot. A week before Christmas she emailed and told us she was still considering placing with us. Two days before Christmas she told us that she had actually had the baby back in November. It was just easier to let us keep on believing than to be honest. Right after Thanksgiving, and in a panic, she had quickly found another family that day and placed with them. Their moment of happiness at the sudden gain of a son twisted into our moment of despair and it knocked the breath out of me. I felt like they had kidnapped him from my dreams and they probably don't even know we exist. And then I began to wonder if Amelia even existed. She came in and out of our lives so quickly with lovely promises of a new baby and an almost instant friendship. And yet, we had no concrete evidence of her pregnancy other than the cute picture of a girl in college with curly dark hair and a big, bright smile that made us feel we could trust her. And we did trust her. That is what made it all so particularly crushing. Despite the overwhelming disappointment and all the what ifs, there was only one answer. We had to move on. Although a little bruised and fearing to ever trust again, we forgave her with our whole, horribly broken hearts and started over. 


Back to the waiting game. Nervous, longing, apprehensive freaking waiting game. I had this nagging feeling that our baby was coming to us with the help of an agency that solely matches birthmoms with adoptive parents. We couldn't afford them, but the feeling persisted. I figured if it was meant to be the money would be nothing in comparison and we had to go forward in faith. Sure enough, with a little help from our friends, we began to see some serious miracles and in 3 months time we had raised enough money to submit our names with the agency and get matched with a birthmom. One week later we sat on our bed nervously talking with a girl in Charlotte, North Carolina named Samantha. She was cheerful and had a charming little lilt in the way she spoke that reminded me of the first time I'd had grits and drank lemonade with whipped cream from a gallon jar. We took an instant liking to each other even though our lives were worlds apart. We talked often and she chose us to be the parents of her baby girl due May 23rd. Almost exactly 2 years to the day that Isla was born. Ben said it would be awfully convenient given we had all the girl clothes we would need and in the same season too. I agreed. The weeks passed and I developed a ball of nervous butterflies in the pit of my stomach. There was so much to do. I had to get the house cleaned and organized and make freezer meals and generally prepare for the chaos and exhaustion that comes with a 2 year old and a new born baby at home. Then there was the trip that had to be planned at a moments notice whenever Samantha went into labor. Oh. My. Gosh. The trip. That ball of nervous butterflies began to spread and there were some days I thought I might have a heart attack. The sooner that due date crept up the more my breathing became a conscious effort. Any day that call would come and we would jet out the door and be on our way to picking up our baby girl. A call came. It was from our lawyer in North Carolina. The details are still a little bit hard for me to see clearly and really, in retrospect, they don't matter anyway. The shock of it all and the heavy dose of denial that followed felt like I'd been hit in the chest with a base ball bat. There were so many different stories told to different people that it's impossible for me to even speculate as to what the truth is. The only real truth is that she lied. She never intended to place her baby for adoption, she just needed rent money. It's simple really. And let's be brutally honest, we are pretty easy targets. Vulnerable, trusting, hopelessly longing for a baby, easy targets. She swiftly tore through our lives, ripped the roof clean off our house, and left us shivering in the corner. Devastated.  


The good thing about not having a roof is that you can see straight up. So, now what? Sit in bed and feel really bad for myself. Been there. Cry dramatically every time I get in the shower. Done that. Eat an exorbitant amount of chocolate. Yep. This is basically part of my daily ritual. But somewhere in the deepest part of me, I have to believe that this is not acceptable. This is not the end. This is not it. I refuse to let this be the end of the story. I know God loves me, I know it in my soul. So...now what? And then I read this. And it changed my life. And a tiny little flicker of hope lit up my heart when I read this apostolic bit of encouragement:

Don’t give up.  Don’t you quit.  You keep walking.  You keep trying.  There is help and happiness ahead... You keep your chin up.  It will be all right in the end.  Trust God and believe in good things to come.

-Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

I know God lives and loves me. I know this is not the end of the story, not even close. I know His heart is broken for me too. I testify of hope. Of healing. And this long winded explanation is hopefully the precursor to a happier story in which our family grows once more. Every single bit of it will be by His hand. Keep watching. You are about to see a miracle.