How L Became LB

I really felt last night like I needed to blog about something because I don't talk about it often enough and it's a huge part of who I am. I am a birthmother. It's such a huge part of me. So many blessings have come to me because I chose to take on that title. I wouldn't be me without being a birthmother. There hasn't been a single day since L was born that I haven't thought about her. Not a single one. Anyways, I feel really prompted to share my story, so I will. Maybe some day I'll find out why I'm supposed to be doing this, but maybe I won't, who knows? Anyway, just to warn you, this is a long post, so grab yourself a lemonade or something first. Or maybe two.

The biggest thing to understand is that I did not grow up in my church. I was taught who the Savior was, but going to church and following the commandments to a T was not part of our life. My mum is a wonderful woman, don't mistake me. She taught me a lot about being a good person. However, as I grew older, I began to make more and more poor choices. I lost my virtue at the age of 14. I think about that now and I'm disgusted, but at the time, it felt natural to me. Anyways, in late 2003, I began dating B. I was still kind of on the rebound from my fiance breaking things off a few months before, but B was persistent about us dating, and so I gave in. B was 4 years older than me and had a son from his last relationship. B's son and I loved each other. I don't know if I could have loved him more if he were mine. Anyways, shortly into our relationship, B and I became physical. At first it wasn't according to my wishes, but I eventually moved past that. I grew closer and closer to B's son. I spoiled that kid rotten. B and I both moved into different homes than we'd been in and started acting more and more like a family. B's son and I did the whole Christmas thing together. I bought a tree and decorations and we put it up together. I bought a gingerbread house and we put that together. You get the picture.

B's ex, the mother of the boy, put a lot of pressure on B when it came to our relationship. She was basically making it so that I couldn't be around B's son anymore, and thereby making it so I could barely be around B. A few days after Christmas I told B that I couldn't take it anymore and hung up the phone. I called him back and tried to tell him that somehow we could work through this. He told me that I'd made my bed and I had to lay in it. Within a matter of days, I'd moved back in with my mum and turned into a wreck and B was in a new relationship with a girl who was pregnant with someone else's kid.

About a week and a half after the breakup, I went to B's place after going to the bar. I think now the only reason I went was because I was meant to hear what he had to say that night. I'd told him about how I'd been feeling really awful lately (physically), and he suggested offhandedly that maybe I was pregnant. I've thought I was pregnant in situations before that, so I pretty much had the attitude of "yeah, whatever, I WISH I was that lucky". Seriously. I wanted a baby SO badly. Anyways, a few days later, armed with money from my mum, I went to the drug store as soon as it opened and bought a pregnancy test. My friend, DW, called me on my cell while I was there. I told her what was going on and she came to pick me up and brought me back to my house. She waited in the family room as I took my test. I did my thing with the stick, but really didn't have to wait. There were two lines! I'm not going to lie. I was shocked, but I was overjoyed. I was so happy that I was going to have a baby. I came out and DW says "It was negative wasn't it?". She knew how much I wanted this. I shook my head and she started jumping and screaming "I'm going to be an Aunty".

I believe the first person I called was B. His reaction to me saying "I'm pregnant" will probably stick with me for the rest of my life. He said "Well isn't this just f'in great". OUCH! I had assumed that since we'd JUST broken up, that we were still repairable, that we would work through this together and create a life for our child together. I must have called my mum after that, but I honestly don't remember anything about telling her.

I called in sick to work and DW took me to her Dr's office so I could have a 'proper' test done. The Dr asked me a question I'd never heard before. "Is this pregnancy unwanted? Not unplanned, but unwanted?" I assured him that it was very much wanted, thanked him and went on my merry way to the hospital to pee in a cup. That whole day I spent driving around with DW waiting for my results, even though I already knew what they were. Sure enough, the office confirmed that I was pregnant, congratulated me and gave me a butt load of free stuff.

B started going around town telling everyone that the baby wasn't his. Of course I knew it was his and that it couldn't possibly be anyone else's, but that didn't seem to matter. B and I stopped talking for a while and he spread vicious rumours about me. It was awful. I was alone and pregnant and had to deal with this as well. I think somewhere before we stopped talking he told me to get an abortion. I told him that it wasn't an option and never would be.

In March I went away for the weekend for DW's wedding. They were a month pregnant at the time and we enjoyed our pop together while everyone else drank. Right before we were leaving to go back home, B called me on my cell and left a message. I checked it and almost died of shock when I found out who had called. I called him back. He wanted to be on speaking terms again. I went to the gift shop and bought him a Fox Racing hat and went on my merry way. He and I drove around that night and talked. He told me that he wasn't ready for another child and asked again if I would get an abortion. I told him that 1) I would never do that and 2) I was no longer in my first trimester. So he started talking about adoption.

My mum got me into the health centre and I had someone talk to me about my 'options'. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really listen. I had every intention of parenting my child. All I'd ever wanted was to be a mother, and no one was going to take that away from me. However, I politely took information about some adoption agencies. I showed them to B. He wasn't terribly interested in being involved with the process. One night after I'd finished babysitting his son for him we got into a huge fight about something (probably the baby), and so I left all of the adoption information in his hallway and left.

We still talked after that, but I refused to consider adoption anymore. That was his wish, not mine. I felt like he was telling me that his son mattered to him and was allowed to be with him, but my child didn't matter and wasn't allowed to be with me. It felt so unfair. Anyways, we became pretty good friends (or so I'd thought), which mostly consisted of me being willing to do favours for him and him taking advantage of it. I was trying to win him over to help make a home for our baby. He totally milked my desperation for all it was worth. He did, however, get talked into coming to a couple of prenatal appointments and my first ultrasound appointment. I thought if I got him more involved with the baby that he would start caring more. Apparently I was wrong.

In April, B's son had his birthday. I quit smoking that day. I think it was 2 days later that B and his son came to say goodbye before they took off to Ontario (where they were from). B had told me a few days before that they were going. I was losing it, seriously losing it. I had a knife in my room and had held it to my wrist a few times. I held on long enough to say goodbye to them. I think they were only an hour out of town when my mum took me to the ER and I had to admit to the Dr on call that I was pregnant, the father had just taken off on me and I was suicidal. That admission earned me a week in the hospital.

I remember thinking during that week that I'd picked the worst week EVER to quit smoking, but I stuck it through. I had daily visits from a lady with Mental Health. She wouldn't recommend my release from the hospital until I signed a contract with her stating that I wouldn't try to kill myself. I told her that if I was dead, then the contract really wouldn't matter anymore. That comment was actually the reason I was in the hospital for as long as I was. But seriously, I'm not stupid enough to think that some contract to some lady I barely even know the name of is going to keep me alive. I got a visit from a spiritual leader. We just chatted (we knew each other from him substituting in my high school and his wife being the art teacher). Some time during that week I made a very important decision. I wanted God in my life. Like, permanently. I didn't want to be a Sunday Christian, someone who goes to church on Sunday and says that they believe in it all and then goes home, has a beer and maybe does some grocery shopping that afternoon. I wanted the WHOLE deal. I went to my Mental Health lady with a contract we could both agree on. I would make the contract with my brother, a relationship I loved and honoured.

The next month after that I got myself onto EI, so I now had enough money to pay my cell phone bill and put some money onto my credit card balance. Then late in that month my friend called me up and told me that a mutual friend of our's was getting baptized and that she wanted me to be there for it. It was going to be on a Sunday. She was becoming LDS. Oh, I feel so bad saying this now, but my reaction was "so, another bites the dust, hey?". I would EAT those words very quickly. I met the missionaries on Saturday when we were all at KFC. I was obviously pregnant and expected them to be super self-righteous and tell me how horrible I was for being unwed and pregnant. Instead, Elder McMillan looked at my stomach and asked "so what's the baby's name?". At the time I thought I was having a boy, so I responded "Um, Caleb".

My friend asked me to come to church in the morning as well as the baptism that evening. I agreed. What could one Sunday morning hurt, right? Saturday night I prayed hard that I would know if I was doing the right thing by going to the LDS church. My friend that was getting baptized and I sat with the missionaries. We went through the opening hymn and prayer and the sacrament. It came time for the first talk. I'd felt a connection for a couple of years to the parable of the lost sheep. It was talked about in the first talk in church. I felt peace, I felt right, I KNEW then that I'd found what I was looking for. After church I went up to Elder Summers and asked, "So when can I take the first discussion?" I told him about what I'd felt with the talk. I took my first discussion that afternoon. They gave me a reading assignment. I read it while we were waiting in the church for the baptism. After her baptism was over I went to the missionaries and asked them if June 19th worked for them for my baptism. That's right, I was a golden contact, people.

Anyways, I went through the discussions and got baptized and still planned on parenting my baby. Adoption of course started coming up again, this time through the church. I started having dreams of Elders McMillan and Summers cutting open my stomach and ripping my baby out of me. It was bad. I mostly didn't want to consider adoption at that point because that had been what B wanted me to do, and I didn't want to give in to what he wanted. I started thinking about who I was going to ask to bless my baby. Elder Summers was transferred into Edmonton and Elder McMillan got a greenie, Elder Ball. I went for another ultrasound and found out I was having a girl. My mum and I went out and bought some super cute outfits and I couldn't wait to use them.

For some reason I was talking to Elder McMillan on the phone one night after they'd gotten in from the day. Adoption came up AGAIN and I was furious. I marched my large pregnant body across town to give him a piece of my mind. I told him I was coming and to be ready to talk outside (YES, I KNOW this is against the rules. Spirit of the law here, people, stick with me. This breaking of the rule helped L get an eternal family). On the way over there, Heavenly Father and I had a chat. He knew I didn't want to choose adoption. But I knew that eternal families were part of His plan for us. I realized that I was fighting a losing battle. McMillan, Ball and I spent a few hours outside talking about the decision. It's a night I won't ever forget. I even remember what the guys were wearing. There were SO many tears that night. I didn't want to lose the chance to be a mother, I didn't want to hurt my mum who had done so much already for this baby, I was so scared that no one would want me after this. I told McMillan that because of my pregnancy that I would never be able to get one the the 'elite' guys like him. I didn't want this to be my only chance to ever have a baby and to lose out on that. But I knew in my heart what was right. My daughter deserved so much more than what I could give her. I'd grown up in a broken home, I didn't want to condemn my child to the same life. I went back home with my mind made up. The next day I went to my Relief Society president and said "get the adoption lady back here please, I'm ready to talk". I think this was about 6 weeks before my due date.

I got hooked up with a case worker and I went through profile after profile. My mum was there and my RS president was, too. I picked up one profile and I felt something inside of me. These people were special. There had been other profiles that I'd liked, but there was just something about this one. C & D already had a boy, K, through adoption. I thought to myself, "she could have a brother, just like she was supposed to with B's son". I took 5 profiles home with me for a few days. My mum and I both ordered them in the order we felt was best. We did this seperately and came out with the exact same order. I called my case worker to let him know who I'd selected.

I met with C & D. I remember being asked if it was okay if they brought K. Are you kidding? Of COURSE it was okay. He was part of their family and I wanted to meet the boy who was going to be a big brother to my baby. I don't remember a lot about our meeting. I remember that I liked C & D a lot. I remember how impressed I was with K's speech and how polite he was. It was like K was telling me "I'm a wonderful kid and I'm as good as I am because of C & D. They can do this for your baby too." After we met with them, Mum took me to Swiss Chalet for lunch. I had a chicken caesar salad. I also knew that I'd made the right decision. C & D were meant to be my little girl's parents. They'd told me of 3 names that they liked for a girl. I now only remember 2 of them.

The rest is kind of a blur until I went into labour. I went to the hospital to get checked out. They confirmed that I was indeed in labour, but there was no doctor in town that could deliver the baby. The baby's heartrate started going nuts. It was at 200, then 20 and kept going back in forth. The jammed an IV into me, rolled me onto my side and put an oxygen mask over my face. I remember being asked if I wanted to deliver in Lloydminster or in Edmonton. I wanted some actual care, I chose Lloyd. They called an ambulance for me. My workers arrived and one of them was a guy I'd graduated with and my driver was the father of a guy I'd graduated with. AWKWARD! Anyways, Mum rode in the front and I had the quickest trip to Lloyd I'd ever taken.

The doctors there told me that the baby's heartrate was still going nuts. They broke my water and pumped saline into me. They told me if this didn't work that I would have to have an emergency c-section. Luckily, it worked. She calmed down, I spent the night in the room labouring and somewhere in there got an epidural from a very nice anesthesiologist who joked around with me while he was working. Around 7am I felt like I had to push, so they brought me into a delivery room. I pushed for 2 hours, and delivered a wrinkly little girl around 9 am. I spent some time with her in the hospital, but not a lot. She spent a lot of time in the nursery. I didn't want to get too attached, I didn't want to change my mind. I was given the registration of birth form. I chose one of the names that C & D had told me they liked. I chose L. For her middle name I used C's name. It didn't matter, they could change it, but I felt like I had to do something. C later thanked me for not sticking L with "Baby Girl Mattson" for a year, ha ha.

The day after I had L was placement day. We did the placement in the chapel at the hospital. My mum was there, C & D, C & D's case worker, my birth rep from my stake, my RS president, L and me. Did I miss anyone, C? It was really good. I felt reassured that I was doing the right thing. D gave me a priesthood blessing and I was promised that I would have the oppourtunity to be married in the temple to a righteous RM (which I did). At some point I got up and placed L in C's arms. HARDEST. THING. EVER. The best thing I've ever done, something I've never regretted, but oh my gosh, it was so hard. We talked for a while longer and then it was time for me to go. We were walking in the hallway and Mum asked whoever was with us if they minded if we could duck into a room together for a minute. We cried. HARD! We held each other and I don't know how my mum held on for me as well as she did. She rubbed my back and told me that it was going to be okay and that I did the right thing and that she was so proud of me. We calmed down and collected ourselves. We stopped at Tim Horton's on the way out of the city. Mum bought me a bottle of Sprite and a glazed donut. C & D got a beautiful baby girl, one that I'd wanted so badly. I got a pop and a donut.

It's an hour long drive from Lloyd to Wainwright (unless you're labouring in an ambulence). I don't remember a single minute of it. I remember the night I got home that McMillan and Ball came to see me, and to say goodbye. They were both being transferred out the next day. The next 10 days were a blur to me. I'm sure C & D spent every single one of them being paranoid every time that their phone rang. I just hung around the house with the dog and recovered from having a baby. I had visitors and got flowers and cards. No one seemed to know what to say other than "you did a really good thing. I'm proud of you." I'm usually the queen of putting on a brave face for the world, and man did I rock that talent during those 10 days. On day 11, I bawled my eyes out. That was when I felt the loss the most, after it was too late to take it back anyways. My mum held me again that night as I cried and cried. Now that I'm a mother, I can only imagine how bad her heart must have been breaking to watch me go through that.

After day 11, things got easier. I focused on my FHE group and quickly started home study seminary. 6 weeks after L was born, I was at my branch president's house reading his son a book about Hershey's chocolate. My cell phone was on the kitchen window sill from when I'd been in there with K (the branch president's wife) earlier. My branch president (V) answered the phone for me. Guess I should say here that my branch president was also my cell phone dealer, and was B's at one point, too. V brought my phone to me, and said "Nikki, it's B". He rushed his son out of the room to give me some privacy. I answered me phone. B says "Who the H*** answered your phone?" "Um, V, the cell phone guy" "What the H*** is the cell phone guy answering your phone?" I explain to him that V is my branch president and blah, blah, blah, I'm friends with V's wife, blah, blah, blah. So then he asks, "So how's the baby?" "I wouldn't know, I haven't seen her in 6 weeks" "What? Why?" "I placed her for adoption" "You said you wouldn't do that" "I changed my mind. But make no mistake, I did it for her, not for you" "It was a girl?" "Yeah." "Oh". We talked more after that about what had happened. I got off of the phone and V and K asked me if I was okay. I was. I finally felt like the hard part of the process was over now that I'd had a chance to tell B what had happened.

A month and a half after L was born I turned 20. I celebrated with the missionaries, a friend I'd known since we were just out of diapers, her boyfriend and my branch president's son. My friend had just started working at a local daycare and suggested I apply there. I needed a job, so I did. I got the job and fell in love with it. I got my kid fix in a healthy way. I felt healed.

Anyways, there's more to the story than that, but this has turned into the longest post EVER, so I'll leave it at that. If anyone ever has questions, they are free to ask. I'm insanely open about my adoption experience, so no question is really too personal.

However, something came up last night while I was talking to John. I told him that since I've joined the blogging world that I've found out that a lot of adoptions through LDSFS are WAY more open than L's. These people e-mail each other and visit with each other. My agreement is a letter and pictures at specific ages. John and I talked about if I'd known then that openness agreements could be more open than mine would I have asked for a more open agreement. In short, the answer is no. There is one specific time that I wish it had been more open. It was when I got married. I needed people who felt like family to be with me that day. I had one couple who was actually there for me. My old RS president and her husband (who is kind of like my church dad). Bro and Sis O. Bro O was one of our witnesses and Sis O was my attendant or whatever they call it. And I love those two, I really do. But they were not the couple I originally wanted there. I had wanted C & D. That's the only day I wish that I'd had a more open relationship with them. Other than that, the agreement that we have is what allowed me to heal as quickly as I did. I have seen L once since placement day, and it was entirely by accident. My SIL and I were driving back from her in-laws' place and we passed by C & D's house because it's on the way. L and her brother were on the front yard playing and C was sitting on the steps. My SIL kept asking me if I was okay. Was I? Yes, because she was where she was meant to be.