The Roads of Life

This post has been percolating for some time now, but I haven't been able to figure out what I want my writing to say. I still don't know what I want my writing to say, but the time has come to say it.

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In June of last year, I received a call from Ethan's birthmom S. She had been in the hospital for an emergency partial hysterectomy where one of her ovaries and fallopian tubes was removed. She had checked into the hospital with abdominal pain, and the doctors quickly discovered that she had a tubal pregnancy which hadn't naturally miscarried and now the baby was 3 months along and her system was shutting down. It was really scary for her, and she told me that she could have died.

She called as she was home recovering from her operation. She told me that she was relieved that she was not pregnant, because she was going to leave Ethan's birthfather J. (who she had been with on and off for 7 years). They had broken up many times, and this time she was actually going to leave because things were so bad. She had figured out a way to financially support herself and her other two boys. At the time, she was ready to move on.

But she didn't.

A month later, S. called again. She hadn't moved out. A week earlier, she discovered that she was pregnant again at a follow-up doctor's appointment. She was calling to let me know the news, and that she and J. had talked it over a lot and after weighing their options, decided to parent the baby. J. had just started a promising job, and the future looked good.

At the end of March, S. gave birth to a baby girl T. Just prior to the birth, J. and S. and their sons were evicted from their home (J. hadn't had steady employment for 4 months, and S. hadn't worked since before Ethan was born). They moved in with J.'s mom. A month after the birth, J. moved out "because he won't grow up", leaving S. and the three young kids to live without him at his mom's house. Just last week, S. found out that she can't stay there anymore because J.'s mom will be evicted for having them as tenants, so she is trying desperately to find a place to live and a way to support herself and the three kids. She's not having much luck.

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I am worried a great deal about S., and about the kids. I really care for her a lot, and it was hard for me not to say, "come live with us for awhile until you get back on your feet." I know this would be a bad idea. I can't save her family from their consequences, as much as I want to.

When S. called with her news last summer, I didn't shared S.'s pregnancy with very many people. Honestly, I didn't know how I felt about it. Or whether I had the right to feel anything about it. I am an adoptive parent in this triad, so my personal concerns shouldn't even come into the picture. Yet it is so easy for me to stand by and identify S.'s problems, and how she could have avoided them, and it is so easy for me to feel superior because I've never had to deal with these situations in my life. But the reality is, S. and I have led completely different lives, had completely different upbringings, been in completely different financial and social situations. I don't know who I would be if I had led S.'s life. I have no right to judge the decisions S. has made, I can only support her.

The only concern I can rightfully have is for Ethan, as his mother. I am worried about Ethan, and how he will feel because his birthsiblings were all parented and he was placed for adoption. And because baby T. is a girl, I worry that he will wonder, "was I placed for adoption because I was a boy? If I was a girl, would my [birth]parents have wanted me?" I worry that my little man will feel rejected. I am hopeful that our open adoption can help him to realize that he is loved very much by his birthfamily, no matter which roads of life they travel.

Mostly, I pray that the road their currently travelling does not turn out to be a dead end.