I pulled into a parking space at the ER one rainy afternoon. I looked over at the very pregnant birthmother in the passenger seat.
“Ready to go?” I said.
I remember her hesitating before asking, “You’ll go in there with me, right?”
For a second, I remembered that we had only known each other for two weeks. Exactly two weeks ago, she came into our office and cried as she told me why she was making an adoption plan for her unborn child. She shared with me the stories that had led her to our office, and inevitably to this hospital. I had exactly two weeks to help her look over profiles of hopeful families and choose one who promised to love her child unconditionally.
“You’ll love him like he’s your own flesh and blood, right?” I remember her asking.
The very idea of a mother asking someone this question was enough to put a big lump in your throat, but she bravely asked all the scary questions. I remember watching her and wondering how anyone could judge her for the sacrifice she was making. She was giving her child the chance at a life she never had, and a life she knew she could not provide.
Two days later I walked into her room and saw her gathering her things as she waited for me to drive her home. “They’ve discharged the baby,” I said.
Her delivery wasn’t nearly as scary as she had imagined, and she was relieved to have that part behind her. “I would like to say goodbye,” she said, as she reached for a bag. She pulled out a small teddy bear. “The family said it was okay to give him something” she said responsibly.
She made her way over to the door, holding tightly the teddy bear and telling me why she had chosen this specific one over the others. “You’ll go in there with me, right?,” she said, with a half-smile and tears in her eyes that she was trying to gather before they fell.
Driving her home, I thought about all that she had been through, not just today, or the past two weeks, but during her young life. How today felt like the end of something and also the beginning. She made a plan and stuck to it. She already loved the adoptive couple, and they were going to be a big support for her as she continued to work on herself and her life choices.
Suddenly, she had me take a different exit, and I wasn’t sure where we were heading. “This is where my grandmother lives,” she said when we got to the stoplight. I had no idea what kind of support she would receive inside, and apparently neither did she, because she asked one more time, “You’ll go in there with me, right?”
Whether we are speaking at a local high school or working in the field, we strive to take the scary out of adoption. Thank you for your continued prayers and support.
– Valeri Veteto is program manager for Faith Adoption Ministry, a service of BCHFS. She says, “My passion for adoption came from a place of recognizing that we, as believers, have been adopted into God’s family, and that adoption is close to the Lord’s heart.”