Our son, Josiah, turns 16 on Sunday. As we celebrate Jesus giving His life for our salvation, I would like to celebrate the unselfish
love of one very special mom.
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| Josiah after getting his driving learner's permit in April, 2014 |
For as long as I can remember, my dream had been to marry, to
live on a farm, and to have six children. I had the greatest husband on the
planet, we were living on a beautiful ranch, and we had five children. It was
the fall of 1997, and life had calmed down at the Newman home. Rachel was 8,
Nathan was 7, David was 3, Miriam 2, and Leah 1. Most people would look at
those ages and think our lives were probably anything but calm. You just have
to remember that life with children these ages appears to be calm when you have previously experienced life with
children ages 7, 5, 1, 1, and a newborn.
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| Christmas, 1997 |
I
attribute this calmness to two things. First, I’d given up trying to go places.
We only ventured out as a group if Syd was with us. I became queen of the late
night grocery shoppers, on a first name basis with the night stockers at
Wal-Mart. Secondly, when Leah joined the family, Syd asked me if I would like some
help with the housekeeping. You can imagine that I had to ponder this offer for
less than 30 seconds before agreeing to have a neighbor come in and clean once
every two weeks. It was a lifesaver knowing that if I only succeeded in getting
everyone fed and dressed, my house would be clean at least twice a month. I
still did the laundry, cooking, picking up, and I tried to clean house on the
weeks Ramona didn’t come. I was a militant user of cloth diapers, and with
three diaper-clad children, I kept the Maytag running and running and running.
So,
in the midst of all this calmness, we decided to submit our paperwork to the
adoption agency, asking to adopt another baby. We began the process of
attending meetings, multiple interviews and training sessions, and praying God
would bless us with another child. By this time, the agency staff had almost
completely changed, and open adoption was the only option. We submitted a photo
collage of our family and a written profile. The caseworkers gathered several
profiles of families which they believed were good matches for a birthmother.
They presented them to her, and she would pick her top two or three. If we were
in that group, our caseworker called and confirmed that we were willing to talk
to the birthmom by phone. If we did, she was given our number and we were told
to expect a call.
On
a Friday in March, our caseworker called and said Carrie was interested in our
family. We should expect a call from her during the weekend. We were cautiously
optimistic, but also well aware that and a young birthmom might not be so keen
on placing her baby with a 38 year-old couple with 5 children. On Saturday, the
three little ones were napping, and Syd and I were in the backyard playing with
Nathan and Rachel. The phone rang, and when I answered, there was a pause, and
then Carrie introduced herself. I was shaking as our conversation began, but
soon we were talking like we were old friends. The answers to her questions
came easily, and I felt an instant connection. On Monday, our caseworker called
and said Carrie wanted to meet us in person – the next step in the selection
process.
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| Spring, 1998 |
Early
in April, Carrie and her mom made the trip to our home. Syd’s mom was there for
the weekend, and after the children had a chance to meet Carrie, she took them
to the playground so we could have some uninterrupted time together. It was one
of the sweetest times in my life. The connection between Carrie and I was
strong, and I instantly loved her mom, Priscilla. There were no awkward
silences or strained conversations, no feeling like we needed to be guarded.
Here we were, four people who very much loved one soon-to-be-born baby boy. In
those few hours, we made life-changing decisions. We formulated how we would
handle our relationship, what the placement would be like, and even chose his
name together. We agreed that no one ever suffered from having too many people
love him, and our goal was to love each other and love Josiah with all our
hearts. Every decision we made was for his benefit. As they prepared to go
home, we held each other tightly. Priscilla and Syd’s mom hugged, and I was
moved to tears as Priscilla asked Vangie to love Josiah for her. It was such a
bittersweet moment.
Less than three weeks later, we
received “the call.” Carrie was in labor. Throughout the day I prayed for her
and for Josiah. I prayed for her parents. Josiah arrived a little after 6 p.m.
Carrie had asked for 24 hours alone with him, so we didn’t see him until Tuesday
evening. We arrived at the hospital when Josiah was 24 hours and 5 minutes old.
We planned to have a placement ceremony in the hospital chapel on Wednesday
afternoon.
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| At the hospital with Josiah, age 2 days |
It was a little awkward at the
hospital. In a way, I felt like a vulture, waiting for our baby. I saw how much
Carrie loved him, and how difficult this time was for her. I’d never felt such
conflicting emotions. I was so happy and excited about this sweet baby, but
because I loved Carrie so much, my heart was breaking for her.
This time, it was an entirely different story. The hospital staff had been told of Carrie's adoption plan. Although some of them treated us with suspicion, most of them were kind and accommodating. I don't think they had faced a situation like ours where the adoptive parents and birth family were together at the hospital. I remember the nurse looked shocked when she came in to give instructions for Josiah's care after leaving the hospital and Carrie told her to talk to me. We were tentative as we spent time in the hospital with Josiah. I realized that I would have Josiah every day, and I tried to be careful that Carrie had all the time she needed.
