Thursday, April 2, 2015


Write a blog post inspired by the word: born.

Well, of course the first thing that comes to mind is how I just got to witness my son being born. Holy crap was that intense!

One thing I always wanted when we knew our family would be built by adoption was to be there for my children's births. I felt like I was already missing out on so much with not being able to experience a normal life trajectory of get-married, have-sex, get-pregnant, have-babies. Adoption can make you feel pretty helpless and out of control. So I wanted to be there and experience as much as I could. To feel involved. To be a part of the process in some way.

That didn't happen with Kal and he ended up being an emergency c-section baby anyway, so I felt like I missed out. I mourned that loss. (I didn't miss out on everything - there is so much about Kal's adoption that is treasured up in my heart, but I didn't get to be at the birth.) A couple years later I introduced myself on an adoption panel and choked back tears telling our adoption story and how I had come to accept that I had no right to be in the hospital at my children's births. That is not the place for me as adoptive mom. That is their first mother's time to greet their baby and have that time with them. I get to have them for forever, but birthing a child is sacred... (something I may never get to experience, but that's okay) ... and my role is different.

Then S came along and somehow I was granted what I had originally wanted. I got to be there for Shak's birth. It seemed so comfortable and natural. I felt like S was just my sister and of course she would want me there. I was sprawled out on the couch by her bed at the hospital helping her fill out some paperwork about her birth plan. It asked who would hold the baby first and she wasn't sure, but I just said, "NO. You are holding your baby. That's what I'm putting." Lol. And she did. I looked on with the biggest smile on my face when they placed him on her chest. The way she looked at him was just so powerful and beautiful. I wish I was a better writer to capture that. She didn't want any pictures taken, so I've got that moment stored away in my memory only. I can't believe she let me be there to witness that, but it felt right. What wouldn't have felt right is if I had told her I wanted to hold him first. She probably would've given me that. There was no way in the world I was taking that away from her. I insisted.

Now I have that story to share with Shak when he's older. Little man, your first mama loved you and will never forget you. I know, because I saw that love firsthand when you were born.

I got to hold him second and that was perfect.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Gadgets By Spice Up Your Blog