After my momentary freak out that B would be lonely in the nursery, it was time for hugs all around. T was scared and in love all at once. So was I. She called H and told him that B was born. I dont remember much after that, except the doctor sewing me up. Yes, that part. I called my mom, who was excited but reserved. I don't blame her. The next thing I remember is calling my best friend.
For the moment, we shall detour to the miracle that is his name. Erik and I did not mention any names. We did not suggest any. This was their decision. Blake Edward. Blake is my best friend, my other half's name. Edward is Erik's dad's name. Blake has adopted me into his family, as have his parents. Eddie (Erik's dad) is really Erik's step dad, but has acted as if Erik were his own from the day Erik was born. It fits.
Ok, so I called Blake. No, Erik called Blake. He told him that the baby was born. He told him Blake Edward's name. I chucked in the back ground and said 'No, you ego maniac, we didn't name him after you.' Blake would have understood it from me as a joke. Erik repeated it, and Blake thought he was serious. It was a bit awkward. Blake did not visit me in the hospital.He would have been heartbroken. I also distanced myself from him during the pregnancy for the same reason.
I did have a few important people visit me in the hospital. Erik's grandmother visited. She knew this would probably be her one shot at meeting B. She was heartbroken. She was battling cancer, and had made it her goal to make sure the 'family stayed together.' Obviously, she never met H & T. Greg, a wonderful friend, visited. He is still in love with B. He loves when I share pictures with him. I love my Greg. Then there is the uninvited visitor. I still dont know how I feel about this one. The ex step dad visited. His sister worked at the hospital and she told him I was there. Awkward to say the least. His sister also stopped in, and I love her to the moon and back.
There was a moment when I knew I was a mom. I was walking the halls with the ex aunt and we stopped at the nursery. The blinds were closed, but I heard a cry. From some part deep within me, I KNEW that was B's cry. That was the moment. I knew I had been forever changed.
H & T did give me my alone time with B at the hospital. They sort of did not have a choice - they had 3 other kids to care for! I fed him, once, and remember beforehand looking at tiny B and saying 'Ok kid, I've never done this before, we are in this together. Here goes nothing!' He ate his whole bottle, and apparently that was too much. The nurse later scolded me. Erik was there with me 90% of the time. He went home to sleep and eat.
The first time H held B was just...too adorable. H was terrified. He didn't know how to operate babies. I was relieved I was not the only one. He was so gentle, so deliberate. H doesnt show emotion much, but I could see in his eyes that he was in love.
We were discussing being released and how that would work. Because my parental rights had not yet been terminated, B had to leave with me. As we were debating the logistics of this, the nurses informed me they wanted to keep him for another night, did I want to stay with him? What a silly, silly question! My first worry for him was that he would be lonely. There was no way my baby would be there without me.
When leaving time came, the
B's first doctors appointment must have been the next day. Erik had to work. I was alone, just me and my broken heart. I went to that appointment with T. My heart swelled to see him again. I loved to hear that he was perfect in every way. I loved that he looked a bit like T. And then the appointment was over and I was home again. Alone. Broken. It was hard. It was amazing. It was beautiful and tragic. Adoption is that way.
With Love Always,