# 45: JENNIFER'S LETTERS

PAGE # 45

Saturday
7/28/12
Late Afternoon


Dear Jennifer of December 2011,


I am writing from the future too late, but lost time is no excuse for further procrastination. And though this note cannot stop the events as they pertained to the adoption of Baby Lily, well then, perhaps it can prevent some other ignorant prospective adoptive parent from falling prey to similar grievances.


Jennifer!


You will not believe what I am about to tell you:  After so much worry as to whether Kendra was getting coerced into an adoption plan, YOU will feel coerced into an adoption plan.


A few hours after Baby Lily's birth, Kendra will tell you alleged stories about the birth father and you will become frightened of him.  You will believe these stories without question, at least for some time, because they will help you reconcile your own ideas about motherhood (how could anyone give up her baby?) with Kendra's decision (giving up baby equals saving baby).  Without Kendra's tale of terror, it will be near impossible for you to fathom Kendra's choice of adoption for her newborn.    


Unfortunately, as the tale of terror convinces you that Kendra has a valid reason for choosing adoption, the tale of terror will also terrorize you.  You will feel manipulated and lied to, as the adoption attorney certainly did not depict the birth father to be quite as threatening as Kendra will describe.


You will feel bad for both Kendra and her baby and want to help them, but you will also feel some resentment toward the whole situation--you, who have worked so hard to overcome a family history of abuse, will find yourself thrown into the domestic violence drama of total strangers.  You will want to run away, but because you made a commitment to Kendra and her baby, you will feel trapped.  A potentially dangerous and definitely volatile situation will collide with your otherwise quiet domestic life, and you will feel obligated to accept it into your arms, your home, your very heart.


You will be blindsided because you will have focused too much on Kendra's well being.  You will fail to consider your own vulnerability.  No--you will consider it, but far too briefly.


You will feel like you must take care of Kendra's baby, even though the situation with the birth father scares you.  You will feel like it's too late to back out.  And you will want to protect Baby Lily from any danger.  


You will take Baby Lily home and you will love her.  And even after that, the adoption attorney will victimize your entire family with more lies, manipulation, and emotional blackmail.  You will have to make very hard decisions without ever knowing the truth.  You will be morally tested and it will hurt.


You will wish it never happened at all.  


But it will happen.


And though it will be too late for this letter, you will write it anyway.


In fact, it will be too late for all of you.  At least one person will become lost.  And at least one person will not survive.  Your own brush with grief will be minimal, relatively speaking.


It will happen.


You must write of it.


Sincerely,
Jennifer of this very moment in time

# 26: BUT MY TUMMY'S NOT BROKEN...HIS LITTLE HEART IS!

PAGE # 26

Monday

12/12/11

Probably around 11:30 pm


There's no easy way to differentiate whether Tom is actually sleeping or merely trying to.  He's a darn light sleeper--even the slightest whisper has the potential to wake him.  Sometimes I just put my face up close near his and open my eyes real wide.  If he's awake, he can sense I'm looking at him and will usually answer with an exhausted, "What now?" And if he's asleep--well, at least my nocturnal stare is not powerful enough to disturb the man.  I consider it one of my best communication strategies.  


On this night, however, I was staring wide-eyed at Tom, but he was not responding.  I cheated a little by blowing on his nose, but he was either in an unusually deep slumber or had simply had enough of me for the night.


I rolled back over toward my side of the bed, but I couldn't fall asleep.  I was thinking about a lie--and even though it was probably no big deal--it was troublesome enough to keep me awake.  


The day we met Kendra and Johnny at the attorney's office, Kendra cried on behalf of her 5 year-old son, Alex.  He was struggling to understand the adoption plan.  Why wasn't his baby sister going to live with them?  


Shelley, the attorney, had addressed this by suggesting the following:

"You just explain to him that another mommy has a broken tummy and..."

"I'm not infertile," I interjected.

"But a pregnancy would be dangerous for you, right?" Shelley inquired.

"Well, the doctors aren't saying that it would be dangerous for me.  No one has said I can't have another pregnancy.  I just have really hard pregnancies.  I have tons of huge fibroid tumors and really bad nausea and vomiting," I clarified.  

(I've suffered a bunch of uncomfortable symptoms since my last pregnancy, mostly due to some complicated endocrine problems, but no medical professional has declared me infertile.) 

"Fibroids!" Shelley exclaimed.  "I almost died during my pregnancy because of fibroids," the attorney said.  "I almost bled to death."

 I lost track of what Shelley said next.  I'm sure I did because I remember thinking how I never knew fibroids could be that bad.  They caused a lot of pain and gave me an irritable uterus (actual medical terminology), but had I really escaped a possible hemorrhage?  


Then, earlier on this day, Paula helped Kendra explain the adoption to Alex.  And she used Shelley's broken tummy tale.

"But that's not true!" I nearly shouted into the phone.  "I made it clear to Shelley--and in front of Kendra too--that we're not adopting because of infertility.  Did Shelley tell you I'm infertile?"

I did not want to be misrepresented to Kendra.  What if she didn't want to give her baby to someone who could potentially bear another biological child?  What if she only wanted a couple who was struggling with infertility?  I was happy Kendra picked us, but I did not want to be chosen under false pretenses.  And honestly, as much as I disliked the attorney, I really didn't think (at least back then) she had purposely lied about my fertility status.  I figured she probably dealt mainly with infertile couples and had made an honest mistake.  

"I don't like that, Paula.  It's not true."

"Kendra knows that.  But this was a developmentally appropriate way of explaining the adoption to her son.  This is not an ethical problem.  It's just the best way of explaining the loss of his baby sister."

I had dropped the issue after Paula provided the rationale for the falsehood.  Me and my broken tummy.  Okay.     


But that night, as I tried to fall asleep, the long term implications of such a lie struck me. What if Kendra agreed to an open adoption?  I hoped this baby girl could grow up knowing her two brothers.  But wouldn't Alex, the 5 year-old, despise me?  Why should someone take away his baby sister because of a broken tummy?  Perhaps he would worry about being given away himself?  Would he develop a fear of women with wounded abdomens?


Even now, I can get a bit wild with my imagination.  Best case scenario: Alex grows up to be an abdominal surgeon.  Worst case:  He's already throwing toy dolls out the window.  And I mean Barbie type dolls--not baby dolls.  I'm worried all this might inflict a severe case of misogyny.  


I understand that the reader might find my thought process somewhat ridiculous.  On the other hand, a five year old has hardly any power or control over his life, his surroundings, the people he is exposed to.  A five year old doesn't even like to share a toy!  How dare anyone usurp that boy's absolutely appropriate grief and suggest he have empathy for some strange woman!  


I get that the circumstances of his sister's conception were beyond the little boy's comprehension.  But really?  Was it really developmentally appropriate to tell this to the boy?    


I intended to discuss it with my husband.  And with my friend Crystal.  But now, I can't recall if I discussed the issue with either of them.  It was all just so much.  I wasn't prepared for this experience--the process of adopting was not matching up with what I had envisioned.  And a  lot of the details are only coming to me now, months later, as I'm writing about it. 


It's almost like I suffered from a case of psychogenic amnesia.  Memory is crashing in on me and I can't write fast enough now.


And I have a therapy background, resources, a support system.    


What about Kendra? 

# 15: HOW WE ENDED UP FACE TO FACE WITH OUR BIRTH MOTHER: WORMHOLES & OTHER THEORIES

PAGE # 15

Wednesday

12/7/11

9:15 am

When Tom answered the adoption attorney's phone call that morning, I was certain of two things:

1. I hated the attorney.  She was Satan with a bad, blond makeover.
2. I was afraid of the birth father.  He was Satan too.  He killed animals and posted their bloody corpses online as his profile picture.

While different world religions have argued for and against monotheism (the belief in one and only one God), I've always worried more about the ontology of evil.  Is there just one Satan?  Or many?  

Clearly, I had uncovered the existence of two (at least two!) Satans.  

Therefore, how can any reasonable person explain what happened next?  


Tom and I not only reversed our decision to back away from this adoption, but by 11:00 am, that very same morning, we were face-to-face with a pregnant woman!  It just doesn't make sense.  It's unfathomable.  


Even as I write this, I am sure I suffered some serious insult to my brain that, in turn, also impacted my autobiographical memory.  I have retrograde amnesia.  I cannot claim to recall, for sure, how we traveled from a definite "NO WAY!" to a meeting with Kendra, the biological mother, in a mere few hours.  

But, I do have some theories:

1. There was a wormhole in my house that day.  We got sucked in and it dumped us out at the attorney's office.
2. Tom and I were suffering from a severe form of insanity that targeted us both.  Simultaneously.  
3. Perhaps a third Satan (a lurking variable of unknown identity!) brought us there.

But the truth, at least the murky pieces I'm able to remember, is not so sensational.  It was really very simple.  We ignored our gut instincts; we stopped thinking rationally.  We succumbed to temptation when Shelley, the attorney, said:

"Just come meet the birth mother.  You don't have to decide anything yet.  But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity if you are really hoping to adopt.  You guys are new to the adoption process and you don't know it this moment, but two or three years from now, you are going to regret it, if you just walk away, without even meeting Kendra first.  Just come meet her.  Then make your decision."

We stopped thinking about our (more my) personal distaste for the attorney.  We exorcised all images of scary bio dad from our heads.  We opted for hope instead.  We chose life.  We settled on a baby!  We decided to get a little adventurous.

After all, isn't every adoption bound to be filled with drama and uncertainty?  Babies aren't given away to complete strangers because things are, well, to put it bluntly, happening under normal circumstances. 

We dressed quickly (no time to ponder a wardrobe change!) and set out to meet our Baby Mama!

# 14: OH HOW THE LAWYER LIED and OH NO! EVEN MY MOTHER CRIED...

This is not a picture of my actual mother.  She'd probably like you to know that.

PAGE # 14

Wednesday

12/7/11

Rise and Shine!

Tom nudged me.  "Wake up!"

"What is it?  Sara?"  I looked at the baby monitor, but our toddler was sleeping.

"It's Shelley," Tom explained.  "She sent us an email late last night."  

This adoption attorney was persistent.  

"I don't think you should read it," Tom suggested.  "We've made up our mind."

I sat up and turned to face my husband.

"Then why did you bother to wake me?"  I asked him.  "Did you read it?" 

"Yes, but..."

"Hand over the email!"  I reached out for his iPad. 

The attorney sent it at 12:53 am.  It read as follows:

I am so sorry you have come to this conclusion without meeting Kendra or knowing if the birthfather will cooperate or not.  Perhaps in explaining the worst case scenario I scared you.  I think him even challenging is highly unlikely, and him being successful, next to impossible.  I would think I would have also heard something immediately if he were going to try to block the adoption.  My name and phone number was right on the papers he was served Saturday.

Anyway, I would suggest that you meet Kendra before you make your final decision whether or not to take the next step.  You may feel more comfortable that this adoption will happen after talking to her.  I will also limit your financial investment to the bare minimum until the 30 days runs out.  [The law gives a biological father 30 days to contest an adoption plan, starting from the date he is served legal papers informing him of that adoption plan].

 Anyway, I hope to hear from you in the morning.  I would hate for you to miss this wonderful opportunity and for this child to miss the wonderful opportunity to become a part of your family.

Sincerely,

Shelley

I read the letter over a few times.  There was a problem with the first paragraph, in the form of a giant revision of the truth:

The attorney never described any 'worst case scenario' to us.  As I recalled, I probed her to divulge any potential 'worst case scenarios' and she had been dismissive of my concerns. Even nasty.

I didn't mention it to Tom.  We were resolved in our decision.  

"Are you going to write her back?" I asked him.

"Nah.  Why get into it?"  Tom said.  "Plus, these lawyers charge money for emails and text messages."

"Oh forget it!"

And so we did.  At least for a little while, until my mother called within the hour:

"What is going on there?  I get this text message from you that you're not adopting the baby anymore!  Not even a phone call!  And I texted you back last night and..."

I looked at my phone.  Sure enough, my mother had sent me several messages the preceding evening:

What the f?

Hello

U there

Hello

What's going on?

"You there?" my mom asked.

"Yeah, look, it's complicated," I explained.

"I was up crying all night!" my mom said.  "Nobody wants this poor baby!  I just feel so bad for this poor baby."

"I know, mom, I know," I replied.  "But the whole birth father thing.  It's just too much anxiety for me.  I can't handle it."

My mom continued:

"That poor baby!  Even her own mother doesn't want her!"

"I know mom," I said.  "But maybe she'll change her mind and keep the baby in the end."

I explained a little more about the birth father.  I described my fears.  Spun terrible 'what if' tales to help illustrate my anxiety.  My mom remained despondent.

"Then why don't you adopt the baby if you feel so bad?" I challenged her.  

That worked.  

We moved on to other topics.  

Then the house phone started ringing.  

"Don't answer it!"  Tom shouted from another room.  "It's the attorney!  She'll try to persuade us!"

We ignored her call.  

But then, she called Tom's cell.  

Then mine.  

Then the house phone again.

"Mom," I said, "Let me call you back.  I think Tom just answered the attorney's call."

# 11: EVEN THE DEVIL NEEDS PROPS

PAGE # 11


Tuesday

12/6/11

4:45 pm

Tom and I were home from our meeting with the adoption attorney.  We needed to go inside and pay the babysitter, but we were stuck in the car, trapped in a philosophical debate over whether the lawyer was mostly good (Tom's stance) or a mad demon (my position).  It's a timeless theme--the good vs. evil one--and to our credit, at least we weren't battling over something more mundane, say credit card bills.  

"You are such a pessimist!"  Tom shook his head at me.  "I think we should go for this."

"But I don't trust her.  Every time I tried to ask about the birth father, she'd pull a new trick out of her hat to dismiss me."

Tom was more sympathetic.  "Oh, come on.  At the end of the day, she's trying to get her job done.  I'm sure she just wants the best family for this baby.  She's gotta be  somewhat of a salesperson to get the process rolling."

"A salesperson?" I disagreed.  "She's more like a maniacal magician!"  I was talking with my hands and the left one accidentally knocked Tom's jaw.


"Ouch!" he cried.


"You?  Your scruff practically peeled the skin off my hand!"


We rested for a moment.  


I was thinking I was a much better judge of character.  I often remind Tom that he is lucky I stalked him early in life; otherwise, he probably would've ended up marrying a serious problem.  

"What about Ricky?"  Tom pointed out.  "Tracey and Jim have Ricky because of that attorney.  Where would Ricky be now?  If not for her?"

"That may be true," I conceded.  "But their situation was totally different.  Their birth father signed off on the adoption and they were not under the same kind of time pressure we are.  And that's another thing!  Why is this baby being put up for adoption at the final hour?  I just don't get it."

"That is strange," Tom agreed.  "We need to ask the birth mother about that tomorrow."  


"But what about the attorney?"


"Forget it!  She can't be all bad.  She adopted a special needs kid and ..."


"And the dog!" I exclaimed.  "Even the devil needs props!"

Tom's eyes grew wide.  "That's a bit cynical.  Even for you."

"Perhaps, but she might be a sociopath for all we know!  She takes in a sick dog and a sick kid and fronts them in her office!  She uses them to create a benevolent image of herself!"  

Unfortunately, I wasn't even kidding.  I had recently read that sociopaths account for 4 % of the population.  (See here:  http://www.amazon.com/Sociopath-Next-Door-Martha-Stout/dp/076791581X )


Tom sighed.  

I started looking through the folder we had received.  There was a stapled packet entitled, Background Information on Prospective Adoptive Child. 


"I'm done arguing," I said.


"Good, because we need to go take care of the two kids we already have."


"Yes," I agreed.  But really, I couldn't wait to read more about the biological parents.  Especially the pages that described the alleged birth father.

# 10: I HATE HER!

PAGE # 10


Tuesday

12/6/11

3:30 pm

Shelley, the adoption attorney, tried to move past the issue of the birth father:  

"We have a lot to accomplish in the next few days.  If this adoption is going to happen, you guys need fingerprints, criminal background checks, a home-study, and..."

"Hold on.  Hold on," I interrupted.  "I'm still not clear on the birth father part."  

"Does he want to father this baby?"  Tom asked.

Shelley rolled her eyes.  "Now, why would he want this baby?  According to the birth mom, he doesn't even have a job.  Why would he want to be saddled with child support payments?"

"Well, if it's his baby," I pondered, "maybe he'd want his own baby?"

"He'll never get this baby!"  Shelley practically scolded me.  "Under the law, he has no rights.  Pay attention, Jennifer!  I've already explained that."

Shelley tried to rein herself in.  She slowed down, smiled at my husband, and said, "Oh, your wife is getting so excited.  She's having a hard time keeping track of things."

Tom didn't reply.  His face was blank.  There was no evidence that he shared my impulse to get up, jump over the dying dog, and run for the exit.  


But Shelley tried a new strategy:


"Look, I'm not in this for the money.  This is a labor of love for me.  You have to meet my own adopted daughter.  My special needs daughter."


Shelley called out for a young woman.  I already knew the back-story; I had Googled this attorney prior to our meeting.  Shelley had adopted her daughter over twenty years ago, when no one else would.  Her daughter was born with fetal alcohol syndrome.  


"This is my daughter," Shelley introduced us.  "She works here in the office.  Today's her birthday."


"Happy Birthday," I said.  


"Nice to meet you," Tom added.


Shelley dismissed her daughter.


"That's why I was late for this meeting," Shelley explained.  "We were having birthday cake when you guys arrived."  


But she couldn't distract me:  


"I'm still trying to sort out the birth father thing.  What if you're wrong and he does want the baby?  You're saying he has no rights, but you also said that he could contest the adoption.  If he wants his baby..."


Shelley didn't let me finish.  Instead of talking this time, she handed me a piece of paper.


"That's the mug shot," Shelley said.  "Bio dad was arrested for beating up Kendra, the birth mother.  There were witnesses and everything.  She's pressing charges."


I studied the picture.  I saw the birth father's name.


"Am I supposed to see his name?" I asked.


"You're not going to tell anybody you saw that," Shelley instructed.


I tried to commit his name to memory, so I could Google him later, but I was too troubled by the attorney's unethical manner.  


If this attorney was untrustworthy, I did not want to work with her.  I waited patiently for the meeting to end, barely hearing the long list of tasks we'd have to complete in order to move forward.  Tom, on the other hand, was on top of everything; he made a list and kept track of all documents and paperwork.  An appointment was made for a social worker to come do our home-study the next morning.  We would meet the birth mother the following afternoon.  


I must have been having an outer body experience when all this appointment making occurred; truly, I cannot even recall leaving the attorney's building.  I've tried but my memory always skips ahead to the drive home.  


"I hate her.  Let's forget it," I told Tom.


"Oh come on babe.  She's a lawyer," he argued.  "We can't reject an innocent baby because of the lawyer."

# 2: "NOT YOUR TYPICAL BIRTH MOTHER"

PAGE # 2

Thursday 

12/1/2011

12:15 pm    

"This is not your typical adoption situation.  I've been doing this for over 25 years and have done about 2,000 successful placements."  Shelley was pleasant and talkative over the phone.  She continued, "I can tell you this:  Kendra is definitely not your typical birth mother."

There was an archetypal birth mother?  Who knew?

"I'm sorry, Shelley, but I don't really know what you mean.  What is a typical birth mother like?"  

I thought pregnant women considering adoption were a collective group of individuals.  Unique stories.  Varying backgrounds.  But Shelley wanted to set me straight:

"Most of them are drug addicts.  Or alcoholics.  They don't get any prenatal care.  There's usually much greater risk regarding the baby's health.  I'm not saying I can guarantee anything, but Kendra, is well, just a normal woman who got herself into a bad situation.  She comes from a good family.  And her husband's family operates a 100 year old business.  He comes from prominent people in the area."

I didn't understand.  "Then why is she placing this baby for adoption?"

"It's not her husband's baby.  Their marriage is a disaster.  They've already been divorced once, then got remarried, and when this baby was conceived, they were separated.  In fact, he had filed for divorce again.  But they're back together.  They have two boys together and are trying to work it out."

"How old is she?"  I pictured someone in her early to mid forties, given all that marital experience.

"She's 24.  They married young--high school sweethearts and she got pregnant in their freshman year of college.  She doesn't believe in abortion, so they got married and quit school.  Got jobs in his family's business."

"That's funny," I replied.  "Because I got pregnant in college too.  Also before we were married.  And then my husband went into his family's business."

"Jennifer, I must tell you, and maybe you'll think I sound a bit crazy, but I'm a spiritual person," Shelley explained.  "And just talking with you, I can tell you and your husband are the perfect match for this birth mom and her baby.  Babies end up with the families they're meant to be with.  I've got at least 35 couples I've been working with for some time now, but this baby is meant for your family."

An hour earlier, I was competing for a spot at Chef Mickey's.  And then, out of nowhere, I just skipped the whole line of hopeful prospective parents?  I wanted a baby, yes, but we were blessed with two children already.  What about those childless couples who were waiting and waiting?

Shelley was reassuring, "You need to understand that Kendra wants a family like yours.  This is ultimately her choice.  She wants a house that has other kids in it.  She wants a couple  under 40 years of age.  A lot of people don't try to adopt until they've already exhausted all their other options.  It's their last resort and they tend to be much older."

I was listening.  Thinking.

"Jennifer, I need to call Kendra by the end of the day to let her know that her first choice, Tracey and Jim, is not going to happen.  She's going to be devastated.  But I think when she hears about you and your family, well, I think she will be very happy then."

"Shelley," I cautioned her.  "My husband is in Europe right now.  He doesn't even know this situation exists yet."

Shelley did not give me much time.  "Call him and call me right back.  I need an answer before the end of the day.  This baby is due in a few weeks and Kendra is already dilated three centimeters."