*sigh*

Oh the drama.

On the Friday before Labor Day we sent out an email to our family members asking for them to fast and pray for us on Sunday since it was the final Fast Sunday before Erica was due.  We included our birthmom Erica's parents in the email.

After our family barbecue Monday night I came home and checked email, logged onto Facebook and there right in front of my eyes were photos posted by Erica of "baby K".  To say I was blindsided would have been a complete understatement.

I was guessing that she'd had the baby earlier that day, so I called her parents (remember that they are some of our closest friends since before our daughter was ever born) to get more info.

Erica's dad's response when I told him I knew?  "Yeah, she had the baby Thursday.  We were wondering when you'd find out."  SAY WHAT?

They knew that Erica had been avoiding us for months and that she wouldn't call us to let us know.  We'd sent out that email on FRIDAY asking them to join in our fast.  Heck, we'd even been texting back and forth with them on the night the baby was born, and they didn't say ONE WORD????  My heart just hurt so bad because I felt absolutely betrayed by them.  I mean, yes, it was Erica's responsibility to call us, but they absolutely knew she wouldn't call, and they couldn't just say, 'Erica had the baby, and we're trying to get her to call you'?

And yes, we already knew she was planning to keep the baby, so even though that hurts too, it really doesn't compare to the hurt we feel about her parents.  Logically, I know that they are, after all, HER parents, but with our relationship, I expected a little bit better treatment from them.  I called my mom and just sobbed for about 45 minutes straight about how hurt I was about finding out that way.

Erica called us the next morning to finally tell us what she should've told us months ago, and while I didn't talk to her, my wonderful hubby made sure that she was the one who said the words- he didn't fill in any of the blanks to make it easier for her.  (But for goodness sake, girl!  You're going to PARENT this child!  Put on your big girl panties and call the people you've led on for the past 4 months!)  He's so good with dealing with drama and he was clear about our feelings and the new boundaries we had to set in order to protect our daughter.  The unbelievable thing was that she was mad that I'd called her parents instead of her after seeing the photos on Facebook, and that's only because they called her and ripped her a new one for not calling to tell us.  It helped ease my hurt a little knowing that they'd called her, but I still don't know how to even talk to them about it yet.

So messed up.

The outpouring of love and support from our family members and friends has been absolutely amazing, and so far, we are hanging in there and trying to figure out what to do next.

It was Mothers Day....

2004. I was suppose to be mom. Instead, I believe that I had my heart ripped out of my chest. Let me explain. 

We had been approved for adoption for nearly 2 years. In March (of 2004), we had been chosen by a mother, and fostered a thriving relationship with her, her boyfriend (the unborn baby's father), and their 2 year old son. They could not provide for this baby. Financially they could hardly support themselves as it was, emotionally they were not ready for another child. The list went on.

Mothers Day was the day she was born. We already had a name chosen. Brenna. Everyone knew about her. I decorated the nursery in ladybugs. I purchased the best carseat/stroller combo we could afford. We are talking Cadillac! 

I quit my job. I made a mad dash to clean the house (nesting I suppose). Installed the carseat. Wow! This is strange, driving around town with a carseat in the back of my car. How surreal! Then the night before placement was to happen, our world fell apart.

A phone call. Mom had had some bleeding. The doctors thought that they may have to do a emergency hysterectomy. This would most likely be it. No more babies. No more pregnancy. I can hardly imagine how a 19 year old can wrap her mind around it. Her decision...keep the baby. I could not hate her.

We were invited to the hospital to see her. Would I do that again? Most likely not. Her name now had a face. Precious. Adorable. Snuggly. Not mine. I cried myself into a depression.

Time really does have a way of easing the pain. Not getting rid of it, but easing it. Three months later we were chosen again, this time to be parents to a boy. And two years after that another baby boy to follow. I have been extremely blessed; two adorable children, an amazing husband, a wonderful home, and pretty darn great life, and beginning to understand this this life is not my plan. 

On the flip side, you can bet where my heart is every Mother Day.