Adoption- The Match Up

Chapter 1: The Journey

On Monday Nov 3, 2013 we submitted our application for Situation "CeeCee" (an alias for a birthmother in Florida)  not knowing the gender of the baby, to be born in late April 2014. The bad news: CeeCee had a history of drug use. The good news: she also had a history of previously successful adoption (a previous daugher). We decided we need to step into this. We trust you, Lord. 

On Thursday Nov 7, 2:18 pm, Kat's text to me read: "Just got the call- need to look at flights next Thursday/Friday."

I read it while on a conference call in our basement office.  I froze mid sentence talking about something related to healthcare. I couldn't believe CeeCee had chosen us. The crazy Kanary family from Kansas. Turns out we were the only family to apply. 

I ran upstairs right after my call ended and hugged Kat (in her chair) crying and laughing as she shared some additional news.  "it's a boy." Pure joy and celebration. Couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying. I think both. Ok God, now you're showing off! We had spoken about wanting another boy to balance out the testosterone. 

What's the catch? I kept asking myself and Kat. But it didn't matter. There is a baby boy that is going to be born in April. And he needs a loving family. Maybe that loving family is supposed to be us. 

Planning begins. Looking at everything now through a different lens. How will we do this or that with 4 kids? Priorities become apparent. Overwhelming sense of Joy- in the midst my changes/grieving with stuff at work. It's all making sense now. God has been gearing me (us) up for this. 

As time went on I begin to think more about CeeCee- the birth mother. Who is she? what's she doing right now? What's she eating? (it is organic food?)

We decided it would be best to take the whole family and therefore best to drive- adventure is our thing. Gotta love the homeschool. Tons of support from our friends and neighbors. The Mothers Together group gave us a care pack with games, toys, snacks and...air fresheners. Flooded with texts, emails of support. 

The adventure begins- so much anticipation. Trying to take my friend Rob's advice and not have any expectations going into it. He and his wife have adopted two girls domestically. "Don't have any expectations..." Of the process or of the people. Hold it all loosely. Wanting to be expectant of what God will do, versus holding expectations for what outcome this should have. Easier said than done. 

Felt myself wanting to know everything about CeeCee, and the complete lack of control I have about what she does and how she does things. She's used drugs before and she could use them again. Nothing I can do to stop her. 

She's offered a child through adoption before- how was that experience for her? Does she miss them? Does she grieve? 

Turns out she has a real name. It's not CeeCee as the attorney wrote about in the Situation reports. Her name is Connie. She's real. She's a mother. 

Connie sounded like a name for an older woman- every "Connie" I had ever met was older and professional, with short hair and pursed lips. What would this Connie look like?

We didn't get on the road until late afternoon Wednesday, and Kat- a marathon driver- had to keep driving even longer than we anticipated as we battled to find a hotel that wasn't booked up. Apparently Tennessee is a popular mid-week destination. Finally we found a Hampton that would work for us- but it was just outside of Chattanooga, near Lookout Mountain. That was 3 more hours to go, but it would put us closer to Florida- closer to Connie and closer to whatever the next step is that God wants us to take. 

We didn't settle into the Lookout Mountain Hampton until 4 am. Yet I couldn't help but want to get a run in when I woke up- still tired- the next morning. I grabbed the free breakfast (more waffles) with the kids (who didn't seem tired at all) then put my gear on. Made it partway up Lookout mountain - about 2 miles- and around the Civil War battle sites along the river, but decided the switchbacks were risky enough for the drivers on their way up or down the mountain without having to worry about hitting the runner from Kansas in brightly colored gear. It was a much needed, restful run. I waived to the town sherriff on my way up and back on the mountain.

The attorney also has a name. It's Mark. He's a certified adoption-matching, red-tape - navigating, bad ass. Mark called and said he had been in touch with Connie. She'd fallen off the wagon and used again. We don't know how much or when. Submitting to and passing drug tests on a regular basis is part of her obligation once we formalize arrangements. Until then, nothing we can do. 

Mark has a hard edge. No nonsense or small talk. He's worked with hundreds of birth mothers and adoptive families. He knows the ropes and we trust him. Mark had shared with us multiple times that he deals with "a segment of the population that is highly unpredictable."

I have studied and spent time with people who are institutionally poor and I understand it somewhat, as to why people get stuck in a cycle of poverty and what would appear from the outside to be bad decisions. It's hard not to judge, but even harder to not want to "fix" it by offering help. And we do and will help, but there's also times when helping hurts. Knowing something about the "segment of the population" we are dealing with helps somewhat, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.  

Time to hit the road. No Starbucks in Lookout Mountain. As we packed the van in front of the hotel, Kat pointed to my running shoes sitting on the luggage cart. "Don't forget your shoes." Yeah, wouldn't want to do that, I thought. And then we took off. Without the shoes. 

Heading on the road toward Atlanta and decided we'll catch Uncle Lucas on our way back. After all, we need to get to Jacksonville to leave enough time to rest up and meet Connie on Friday morning. Or maybe not. We got the call from Mark- he suggested we turn around and go back home. 

Turns out Connie is stuck with family in Daytona Beach. Car trouble- water pump needs replacing and that will take the weekend, so she can't get to Mark's office for the meeting until Monday at earliest.  Crap. Mark wasn't buying her story. He thinks we are getting played. I couldn't imagine why a birth mother who has come this far would make up a story about a broken water pump. I asked Mark if we could just meet Connie in Daytona Friday. Long pause. Brilliant idea and while he can't be there, he'll coach us on what to do, what not to say. Don't give her any money. She'll make up sob stories, etc. 

There's a whole secret spy factor to the process that I didn't know about. Establish a separate phone number, separate email. Don't share too much information. No last names. Some friends of ours did this and called it the "Bat phone."

Kat had done all of this already, setting up her old iPhone with a new phone number, listed under just our first names.  Techno-nerdiness is one of the many things I love about Kat. 

At Mark's direction, I made the bat-phone's maiden phone call to Connie. Trying to sound casual. Not too parent-ty. Not too churchy. Best friend voice.  

Her voice was warm, welcoming. She seemed genuinely excited to meet us. I sensed she was releived that the car trouble didn't ruin the whole deal. We'd meet at their hotel in Daytona Beach- The Tropical Winds. Bonus: we'd get to meet Connie's mother and one of Connie's daughters- Jojo. 

Connie asked about our kids- and we said they were all with us. 

This all feels way better than meeting in an attorney's office. 

Mark continued to foward us the text messages he was exchanging with Connie. She's asking him for food and gas money to get through the weekend. He's already invested thousands of dollars in this with the tests, attorney fees, paperwork fees, etc. 

He's hammering her back with tough love texts. Hard to read but we trust Mark knows what he's doing. 

Mark coached us that it would be ok to buy her lunch and give her a gas gift card but that it would be strictly "charity" on our part. Kat and I spoke about it and knowing this is something we've done before for complete strangers, we'd do it now. Especialy for Connie. 

It will be important to establish boundaries with Connie early on but start with grace and love. Always start with love. God asks us to be salt and light to those we interact with. 

Paul writes: 

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (Colossians 3:12-14 NIV)

I called the Lookout Mountain hotel and they found the shoes. They'll be waiting for us when we pass by there on the way home. 

We're 20 minutes away from meeting Connie. Quick stop at Walmart to buy gift cards and a little something for her daughter Jojo. 

Here we go....

Chapter 2: The Meeting

It took a while to find what we needed in Walmart and a gas station that actually sold gift cards, so we let Connie know we'd be a few minutes late. 

Kat and I prayed in the car at a stoplight. According to google maps we were .3 miles away from meeting Connie.  Lord we come with no expectations, yet expectant of what you'll do. We hold all of this up to you- and we hold it loosely. Help us be salt and light. Help us show your love. no, help us be your love. 

A fire engine was blocking the main road to the hotel- the Atlantic Coast Highway, more commonly known as "A1A" (thanks for ruining that name, Vanilla Ice.)  After some additional navigation, we finally pulled into the parking lot of the Tropical Breeze. As we exited the vehicle, we felt that the weather lived up to the hotel's name. 

We were immediately greeted by Connie, her mother Tina, and Connie's 4 year old daughter, Jojo. 

They were very welcoming and the kids began playing with each other immediately. There was a sense of relief that Connie came out to meet us. Kat sensed that Connie could easily be a member of our extended family.  We talked on the landscaped bent-grass lawn for a few minutes as the kids dug for snails, and right away Connie shared ultrasound pictures with us, pointing to something coming out from the fetus that we all jokingly concluded was a relatively large penis. That's my son, I thought, trying to hide my smile. So far, so good.  

Connie had a warm, yet weathered look. There were layers of life and pain underneath the surface. She had gone through more in her 27 years than most people go through over an entire lifespan.  She is petite even with the basketball-sized protrusion coming from her mid section. She and Kat immediately began swapping pregnancy war stories, and how each child carries differently. 

Jojo had a beautiful smile and sparkly earrings. She reminded me of a younger version of our close friends' daughter Logan, an amazing, talented, and beautiful girl, who also happens to come from mixed race parents. 

Connie asked to make sure we were comfortable with a mixed race child, which we are and we said we looked forward to it.

There are two kinds of hotels on Daytona Beach. Old hotels and new hotels. Tropical Winds was a new hotel 30 years ago.  The diner is a greasy spoon, perfect for casual conversation and not crowded so that our kids could run around and play hide and seek amongst the tables. 

As we ordered then enjoyed the food we jumped into conversation with Connie about family, background, adoption story and interests. We asked her how she felt when she placed her other children. With her most recent adoption (a now 2 year old daughter), she felt it helped that she could distance herself from the child early on, so as to remove some of the emotion, and it was important to her that she have a good relationship with the adoptive parents througout the pregnancy. Connie craves social interaction and relationships, and we know and expect to stay in contact with her throughout the pregnancy and after the birth. 

We covered some of the hard stuff. Drug addiction, choices, relationships.  Connie is very self- aware. She knows her story well, and seemed to key in on when things went wrong, but I sensed she didn't necessarily know why. 

Her father died when she was 12, "and then it all started going bad." That hit home for us, as we immediately thought of how Kat's father passed away when she was 13. Connie became a single mother and drug addict, yet Kat went on to graduate from college, then law school. Why the different paths?

As Mark put it, "but by the Grace of God."  Mark is a wise man. 

Connie was a bit taken aback when we shared that we have chosen homeschooling as our educational choice for the kids, but seemed to grow more comfortable with it as discussion continued. 

Connie wants to make better choices. She told us about wanting to remove certain people and influences in her life. She acknowledged the pull the drugs have over her. Having struggled with addiction to alcohol myself, I could totally relate. 

She seems to appreciate the firm "tough love" hand that Mark is using with her. She respects him and it only confirmed our earlier feelings that we can (and should) trust Mark. 

Kat observed how Connie is trying to be a good mother to Jojo. And upon further relection realizing that Connie's desire to be a good parent also plays out by choosing to have her other children adopted, knowing she is not in the best position to parent them. 

Connie was clearly hurt by the fact that the couple who adopted her oldest child, through the state, had cut off contact. Clearly those circumstances were different and we believe her recent adoption (and hopefully this one) will not yield a similar cut off. 

Connie asked if we were on Facebook, which we replied we were. She didn't ask for our Facebook info, but because we aren't yet ready to share our last name with her, Kat and I later agreed to set up a general Facebook account where we could post pictures, stories, etc for her to view. It's too early to tell if we'll get to the point of full disclosure and sharing of information someday. For now we are staying with the Bourne Identity, secret spy approach. 

After lunch we ventured up to their hotel room where the kids played, and enjoyed a side building view of the ocean. 

We took pictures of each other, of everyone together and of the kids. We even showed off tattoos to each other. She had stories for hers. Some were good, and some were laced with regret. She really liked our tattoos we had gotten for our 10 year wedding anniversary. 

At one point she commented that she was really hoping for a "religious" family to adopt her child and that she whe was glad she found us.  She shared that she believes in Jesus, but quickly pointed out that she felt she hasn't gone completely "all in" yet.  She felt like God has been with her through all of her trials, which I agreed with, noting that I was not a believer until I met Kat. I also shared that before we got married (and even after) I have dealt with some crazy and challenging stuff. "Not as crazy as my stuff," Connie noted. She's probably right, yet it doesn't make the work God has done in and through all of us all any less miraculous. He's good. He's always good. 

We sent the pictures via text message and said we really enjoyed meeting her, Tina and Jojo. Connie responded with: "the same to u. y'all are the ideal parents for my son. thanks for everything."

Aside from the proverbial thumbs up and success of the meeting, there was something about seeing those words that touched us deeply, perhaps in a Mark 1 kind of way. 

Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:10, 11 NIV)

Connie chose us. And so did God. 

We headed north to Jacksonville, where Mark's office is located. A pile of paper with legal language resembling a form of English was waiting for us to read and sign. 

It's all becoming real now. Kat's friend Tasha shared via group text with other friends, encouraging all to read and sing the lyrics to Jesus Culture's Come Away with Me:  "it's gonna be wild, its gonna be great, its gonna be full of me.....I have a plan for you."  

That Plan just became very real.