New x2

How in the world did we function without cellphones? I must get anywhere between 20-25 phone calls a day from doctors, therapist, social workers, bill collectors (who really answers those calls), teachers (my less favorite), and every blue moon a friend that is willing to listen to me rant about the previous twenty phone calls. In this day and age, texting is almost second nature and if I am not scrolling on Facebook or looking for the night’s dinner on pInterest, then I am probably shooting my husband a text about the worst-smelling dirty diaper I had just changed or the eighth load of laundry I had just washed.
Friday night I was watching our girls play with Legos when my phone lit up. I assumed it was a text message from one of my fellow foster moms but it wasn’t.
It was from Newx2.
That’s a silly name, I know. I actually have a New, New1, and a New2 in my phone. No Alabama resident would recognize the area code, because it isn’t from around here. It wasn’t a friend, a bill collector, a teacher, or my mobile coupon from Dollar General.
No, it was my newly adopted children’s mom.
Two years ago, I gave a heartbroken, scared mother my phone number regardless of the fact that she was a complete stranger AND that she had just gotten out of prison. I gave her my personal phone number that I had, had for years, that could have probably been easily googled and linked back to my current address. I gave her my number because for that second I put myself in her shoes, and knowing she was struggling from not only addiction, being alone and the complete feeling of hitting rock bottom- she was trusting a complete stranger with her children. Actually, she had no choice, and, to be honest, she didn’t trust me right off the bat.
I remember the first time we met and how she glared at me for what seemed like entirety. She accused me of being like every foster home you see on Law & Order SVU, (awful). She cried and she yelled and she banged her fist on the table, and then she looked at me with these heartbroken eyes and she asked me if I would kiss her children for her that night and tell them she loved them.
What she didn’t know was I had already been doing that. I reminded that scared two year old daughter of hers just how much her mommy loved her and how much she missed her before I even met her mommy. I reassured her nervous ten year old son that his mother was okay and being well taken care of (even though at the time I had no idea where she was). I cooked every thing Walmart had to offer for a heartbroken three year old that wouldn’t eat a single thing because, “It wasn’t as good as his mommy’s.”
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and we fast forward to a meeting where a social worker looked at Dustin and I and asked if we would consider being the adoptive resource for those exact same children. The past few months had been a roller coaster of emotion and we went from one extreme to another. At one point I remember packing the children’s bags in case they did go home to mother at court, but here we were. I, being 24 at the time and pregnant with my first biological child, was about to commit to adopting a eleven year old boy and his two younger siblings. And, I couldn’t have been any more excited.
As more time passed, I would get text messages from the children’s mother via different numbers. I originally had her in my phone as “New” and then “New1″ and then “New2″. I was always afraid if I put her real name in my phone, in the event that she randomly texted me and my oldest son had the phone, he would see it and know it was her. I was afraid of what he might think or what he might do so “New1″ was my way of securing the contact.
One day in September, while Taytum was in the NICU, I was standing above her crib watching her sleep when I got a phone call from my social worker’s supervisor. She had called me to let me know that Mom had made the choice to surrender her rights if we agreed to adopt. I just remember being completely speechless (as we all were) as no one expected her to do that- instead we were all anticipating a super long, drawn out process.
And that’s when “Newx2″ became a hero. She became one of the best Mom’s in the world. She became a better Mom than I could ever hope to be.
She made a heart-wrenching decision for her children. She did what every parent is “suppose” to do, and she set her own feelings and emotions aside, and she made a decision whole-hardheartedly for her children. She knew she was unable to care for her children’s physical and emotional needs. She knew she, herself, was struggling with so much pain and suffering regarding her own past and she knew she couldn’t give her children what they deserved. All she knew was she loved them with all her heart and she wanted to see them to continue to be loved, to be safe, and to be happy- and she knew that we provided them with that.
Wow. I couldn’t imagine an ounce of the pain she must have felt walking out of that courthouse. I couldn’t imagine the pain she experienced hours, days, weeks, months after making that decision. I couldn’t imagine the pain and suffering that this mother endured (and still enduring) to guarantee that her children had a future that she wasn’t offered. Wow.
Any time “Newx2″ would text me, I would gladly send her pictures of her children- my children- our children. I refuse to let them forget her and vice versa.
What she doesn’t realize is even though her, now four year old, daughter calls me Mommy, we always talk about her “other mommy” too. Just because they have a new birth certificate and a new last name doesn’t mean we can erase their past. Their mother made the biggest sacrifice for them, and I refuse to let that unselfish act of kindness go unnoticed.
I hope we always remember their “other mommy”. I hope when our oldest graduates high school, she can be as equally proud of him as I am. I hope when our middle child goes to prom that she can tell me where he got his beautiful brown eyes. I hope when my sweet princess turns sixteen that she can see the smile on her face from getting her first car.
“Newx2″ is hurting. She missed her children everyday. But, she said something to me Friday night that made this entire crazy lifestyle worth it, “..knowing you and your husband are giving my children the life they deserve makes me owe you my life.”
But, what she doesn’t realize is, she gave us her life. We will forever be grateful for her decision to allow us the honor of being these children’s mommy and daddy.
Adoption wasn’t her way of rejecting her children, but an unconditional love that inspired her to put herself last to ensure that her children were always loved and cared for.
Newx2 is my hero.