Really, it's been too long since I posted. But, with everything, all the crazy, hair-raising, beautiful, scary, poignant, funny and awe-inspiring moments that have passed since I last wrote--I don't know--I just wanted to experience everything, not write about it or analyze it. I guess that's why I'll never be a great writer.
The update: Monday, March 19th we drove out to Boise. About a 10 hour job. We got there anticipating having at least two, maybe three days before E. went into labor (or was induced). Wrong! As soon as we arrived (bleary-eyed and tired from being in the car all day) we learned E was having contractions. We met her at the hospital later that night (early the next morning) at 3 a.m. where we just missed the awesome sight of...her epidural. And, we were not the only ones there. Her mom, P. was by her side, as well as M. the birth father, and about 50 members of M's family, random friends and seemingly total strangers, all angling for a eyeful of E's coochie. Finally, several hours later, the nurses kicked everyone out except for E's mom, M., and Mister and Me.
Nurses kept coming in and out of the room. The hours dragged on, and we kept hearing promises of impending "pushing." By 4:00 p.m. Tuesday afternoon, it was clear that that baby was not going to come out by the traditional route. E was whisked away for a C-section.
That is when I finally lost it, after (how many hours/days) of no sleep, and a roller-coaster of emotion. I felt badly for E because I knew she didn't want a C-section. And, admittedly, I felt sorry for myself, because I wanted to at least be there at the moment my son finally came into the world.
To make matters worse, E.'s epidural had been going for so long that it was no longer having any effect. They had to put her under. What that basically meant was that the one person who had been holding everyone accountable to the "plan" as she had laid it out, was out of commission. When they finally came out of the operating room with the baby, he was handed to M. (the birth father). Mister and I followed M and a nurse (let's call her nurse Ratchet) close behind, into the elevator, up to the nursery floor, hungrily trying to get a glimpse of our baby. I was about to jump out of my skin, I wanted to hold him so badly. E's directive had made it clear that in the delivery room, she wanted to hold the baby first, and then he would be handed to Mister and me. Now, we were following behind M. and nurse Ratchet, me, almost apoplectic. Into the nursery they went, Mister and I not allowed to follow. We watched through the window, along with the 50 random people from M's crew, trying to get a better look at our son, while the nurse conducted the APGAR test. Our poor baby was battle-scarred and bruised from trying for so long to make it into the world through E's "stubborn cervix" (the doctor's phrase, not mine) but he looked gorgeous to me. M. had a 1,000 yard stare on his face, and wouldn't look at Mr. and me through the glass, which made me soooooo nervous. Finally, a few hours later, we were granted access to the nursery, and were able to hold our son for the first time. Tears streamed down my face. I was so happy to see him.
Over the next couple of days, we spent as much time as possible at the hospital. We mostly visited with E in her room, while we held, fed and changed the baby. It was really nice to be all together like that. It somehow just felt right. E's mom and dad were there from time to time, and they were the NICEST people ever. The first thing E's dad said to me when I met him was, "Congratulations." Wow. And I know it wasn't easy--I could see the mist of a tear in his eye. He was "losing" his first grandson. And I knew there was a sadness there.
There was a lot of drama with M's family--especially his mother--putting pressure on M. and E. not to give the baby up for adoption. E never wavered, despite being hammered and pressured pretty badly. There was a point where M declared he was not going to sign away his parental rights. Ugh! Drama! However, Friday came and E and the baby were released from the hospital. And baby boy came home ("home" to our hotel room) with us! Oh my God!! The next Tuesday was E's court date. And, despite his threats to interfere with the adoption, M. didn't even bother showing up to court. Which meant, according to the Idaho atty., that he had therefore waived his rights.
We kept in contact over the next several days with E. and her mom and dad. E. didn't want to see the baby too much, but we did get together one last time before we left to come home (we had to wait a few days for paperwork to be filed through the court system after E. appeared in court, before we were cleared to leave the state). E.'s mom and dad, funnily enough are not that much older than Mister and me, in their early and mid forties (we are in our mid-thirties). So, it was like making a new set of friends. Our minds kept blowing from the experience--having this new connection, and not really having a category or a way to explain it or identify it. But, it feels like we have extended family or just good friends in Boise, Idaho, now. And they were so grateful to be given the opportunity to spend some time with baby boy. They said they felt so much more at peace with the whole situation, after getting to know us, and seeing what kind of life baby boy would have with his adoptive parents.
We arrived home last weekend, and the time has flown by. Though I'm somewhat sleep-deprived, and a little disheveled, so far, it doesn't really seem that "hard." I'm just so excited to see this little guy, spend time with him, change his diapers, etc.. But really, he sleeps a lot. I find myself just wanting to wake him up (but I refrain) just so I can get to know him a little better.
And, the adventure continues. I'm so happy to be a mom. And yet, somehow, I keep waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder, and say, "ok, that's enough. Time to hand over the baby." You know, like he's on loan, or something. And, yes, I'll admit, I'm pissed that I couldn't be the one that "made" him. But, then, he wouldn't be who he is, he'd be someone else. And, he's perfect. Absolutely perfect. So...there it is.