Hey guys! Much like when I started my own blog, I don’t even know where to begin, so I will go ahead and introduce myself. My name is Kami; I’m a 19 year old daycare teacher who is also a birth mom to the most amazing, beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. Her name for blogging purposes is Mini M and she was born January 2nd of this year, so this is all new, but I've learned a lot. We don’t have an open adoption like most stories you hear, we have semi-open. I get updates and lord knows I appreciate them, but there are now problems arising in our adoption story that nobody anticipated. So how’d I get into this whirlwind of a semi-open adoption? I’ll start from the moment I met the guy I call a monster and end with moment I told the one thing that makes my life complete goodbye.
Working late in the sports bar, that I was at more than I was at my own house, I saw a flash of pearly whites my way and these eyes I could stare at all day. He was a bigger guy-just my type-and lord his personality captured my heart like no other. We talked for hours as my friend, that he was there to meet went and ran an errand for me. I, honestly, don’t know how I got any work done that night, but somehow I did just in time to get out and spend the rest of the night chatting and getting to know this guy, who had already made a lasting impression. Our relationship was the kind that burned hot fast. We were talking about apartments and our life together. We would spend time with my sister and he would put effort into the relationship that no other guy has ever shown. He talked like he meant every word and his actions followed those through. He would tell me how he wanted to be with me forever and how he was so in love me, and the day we looked at the gorgeous, first-floor apartment I knew it would be where we spent the next couple of years starting our life together. I saw the wood floors and knew we would never keep them clean enough, but I knew that his camouflage rocking chair would be perfect in the corner and that his Xbox was definitely going in the bedroom, not the living room. I saw that beautiful kitchen and pictured me attempting those chicken enchiladas that we loved of my mom’s…then boom; it was gone the moment he told me he was sleeping with someone else. It was not a feeling I thought I would get rid of, nor did I think my heart would ever be so broken again. I was wrong. As he continued to play with my heart and my stupid, young self, let him, I began to have stomach pains that turned into vomiting and then turned into a bump. That’s right I was pregnant and those two pink lines that were burned in the back on my mind proved it.
I will never forget the conversation I had with BM, the father, late one night. He must have been drunk-no surprise because when he was sober, he normally would react differently. I told him I was pregnant and he immediately told me it wasn't his. He wanted to know why I thought he actually cared about me or why he would care about my baby…and followed through with telling me exactly where to go…Hell. What was a girl, who just became a stereotype, to do? I was a teenager, pregnant, no baby daddy, no college education, and a dead end job still living with my parents. So I spent a night contemplating abortion, I did research and looked at clinics. The thought of termination to a child who was innocent, hasn't even take their first breath, was wrong. However, my mother instinct hadn't kicked in yet and I continued to deny the pregnancy, not only to others, but to myself. That is until the moment I felt a kick…this is not something I was going to dream away; there was no 11:11 wish that was going to change this. I began to tell my boss and coworkers, along with my friends, and then my little sister was next. They all painted this fantasy. They made it look like a picture perfect scenario. There would be a group of supportive people surrounding me, helping me, loving a child who was amazing and who called me mommy and who would love me unconditionally. But, then the time came to tell my parents. Oh, if you only knew the thoughts running through my mind. I sat down on those brown couches I had times before, but this was different. I suddenly became aware of the paintings above the two side recliners and how hideous they are. I noticed the little things that I hadn’t before. I tried to notice everything, but their face meeting mine. They were so infuriated. At that moment, I had no idea what to say or do…I just sat there. As my dad yelled, I took it with tears streaming down my face. Then words began to fly around that stuck with me. Adoption was one. The other was that I lacked the strength for adoption. So that idea was passed and I went to bed that night, without a resolution to the situation. As I cried into the pillow with the pink sheets enveloping me, I started to talk about adoption as a choice…to myself, to friends. Friends would quickly pass it off and say “No, you’re going to be a great mother, you can do this, and I will help.” However, is that what I wanted my child’s life to be? All of my friends helping, me being gone and working all the time, my child would have nobody to tell them the wrongs and rights of life or show them that you can become something, if you want. I stumbled through the Internet during the next day, looking at adoption. I didn’t want to go into something without having the information I needed. Well, I then found Gladney Adoption Agency, and I began to look. Nothing stood out about them at first, but as the day went on I kept going back to them for no known reason. When I began to look at families, I saw a few I thought were great, but as the days passed and I was at the point of not knowing what family I was going to choose and even if this was the right choice, I saw M & B’s video. They were it.
I fell in love, I watched their video over and over as I imagined my child playing in their house and with their dog, Abby, who by the way adores Mini M! I knew instantly that if I couldn’t have them that adoption wasn’t right. I met with my caseworker, A, for the first time, who has been a god send, and told her they were what I wanted. They only wanted a semi-open adoption, and to me, at the time, that is what I wanted, also. Semi-open, for those who don’t know, is the adoption that I get updates/pictures once a year, no visits guaranteed, and that’s pretty much it. Going through the steps, I never imagined that it would have been as hard.
As I rushed to the hospital with my dad and made it in a room, they were going to start an epidural finally, then here comes Mini M, a week late, and M is sliding around the door as I was going to start pushing. I remember asking why she was blue and that was about it, other than the fact that I had just give birth to this beautiful, perfect baby girl. I saw her and my heart instantly grew. She was it. She was what my life had been missing all these years. God had it planned that I would see her and have no empty spaces anymore. I thought I loved BM, I was wrong. My true love is and always will be her. Even now, as I sit here and type this, I choke back the tears, at the thought of how much love that girl is capable of having already. She changed everyone’s world. And she wasn’t even an hour old. As time passed in the hospital and I got her alone the first night, I held her tight, I stared at her with that pink bow on her head, and I began to feel tears fall. I rocked her back and forth and through the sobs, I apologized. I told her all my hopes and dreams for her; I promised her that when she was old enough to know who I am I would be a person worth knowing. I would be the person she could be proud of. I remember falling asleep early the next morning because I had her in a position where I felt her skin touching mine in a chair. Then we both transitioned to our beds, which were right next to each other. The next day passed and all of the people, who for the rest of her life will love her and think of her, got to meet her. Then, M & B got some time with her as I was in the room next to them. I was supposed to be resting, but to know I didn’t have Mini M next to me, I couldn’t. I couldn’t even be apart from her for more than an hour, because I missed her so much, how was I going to survive a lifetime? M & B were amazing, but that’s for a different post. However, the night before signing the papers, M & I spent the night up, talking, sharing our feelings and stories. It was a night I will cherish. I woke up the next morning to M & B having news of a six month visit! Never did I think it would happen. I sat straight up and I cried into their hugs. They may think it’s just a six month visit, but they will never know what it meant to me that day to leave knowing I would see her again…no matter how great that was, though, it didn’t make it easier.
3:34 pm hit on the 4th of January and they were ready to sign the papers. M & B went down and as I sat in the room with Mini M and my parents, along with A and my best friend K. I didn't know what to expect. I had known it was coming, but I never really played this moment out in my head. I sat with my back turned to my parents and faced A. She began with the papers and as she handed me them, I went through them. Every word I read felt like a dagger was bouncing off the page and into my heart. I cried. I sobbed. I was a mess. I knew I wasn't doing a good job hiding it from my family, but I tried. Looking at this precious girl, in a bassinet, all wrapped in pink with a bow on top of her head, I felt my heart truly shatter. She was my heart and she wasn't giving any of it back. I grabbed my bags and as M & B walked in the room and said their goodbyes, I cried more. Feeling the hug and embrace of M, was like pushing more tears out. She told me our promises we made and reminded me “big picture” and to always listen to “Love is An Open Door” (yes, the Frozen song). B, cried with me as he told me things I will forever cherish. These two were the perfect parents, but that was my baby. I left, and in the truck, watching the hospital get further and further, my heart got torn more and more. The month following was full of pictures and some texts, I even got two phone calls from M & B. I remember the last one. I remember hearing their voices for the last time…I would give anything to hear them again and hear Mini M cry. I will never be the one she cries for. I will never be who she calls mommy. I will never be the one who tucks her in or holds her tight. But I will always be the one who carries her in my heart, forever. I will always be her birth mom.
So that’s my how I got here story, but there’s more than you could ever imagine that has been happening and plenty of lessons learned just in the few months, so stay tuned!