Rudy's Birth Story -- Part 3

Considering our baby is turning ONE in two days, I think it's time to wrap up his birth story.  It is important for me to write all this out so he will know about the circumstances of his birth.  But it was a painful part of our lives and so it's been really hard for me to face the trauma of that month.  Everyone has times in their life that are really hard.  And for whatever reason, several "hard" situations came to a head between October and January of last year.  We have had a peaceful year as a result, but we've remained tender for many months.  Still, Rudy's life and birth were a miracle and clearly show God's love for each one of us.  So I want to tell more of the story...

See Part 1 and Part 2. 

I could hardly function when I woke up the next morning -- the day Rudy would be born.  Even without the adoption and new baby on the way, I still would have been overwhelmed.  It was an intense week even without all that going on.

As I was getting Buddy ready for school I knew R was already being induced.  So I sent her a "Good luck!  I hope your day is good!" text.

I asked G for a blessing that morning.  My mother -- who obviously listens to the spirit -- called and said she was coming over to help me clean my house to get ready for Sambo's birthday celebration with his birth family.  It was going to be a very full house with lots of people later that night.  This was the first time some of them had been to our house.  I always feel like I need to have a clean house and have things "all together" when they come, although I really need to get over that.  If there was a time I should have practiced letting things go, that would have been the time, but my anxiety was driving my cleaning spree.  The house would be spotless by that evening. 

I turned on the news right after taking Buddy to school.  I had never once done that so early in the morning.  I was looking for a distraction from the pit in my stomach and thought watching a little news would help.  A massive shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut was all over the news.  Many children were dead.  I turned off the TV instantly.  My stomach was already in knots, and hearing that news, it wound so tightly I seriously could hardly breath.  This news was so upsetting to me I didn't even mention it to my mom when she got here.  I wanted to pretend like it wasn't true.  I was trying so hard to be excited about this precious baby being born into the world.  It seemed like he was coming into such unfortunate circumstances.  It seemed so unfair.  He was coming to a world that was unsafe for children.  He was going to be placed for adoption into a family that was too busy and fearful to prepare for his arrival, get excited about his birth, or even choose a name for him.

I kept thinking:  We all need peace.  We all need some hope.  If I had peace and hope, I could do this.  

I also had been thinking for the past three days that someone really needed to invent an epidural for adoption.  Unfortunately, it doesn't exist!  The only thing that relieves the pressure is prayer.  So I prayed a lot.

Sambo with his birthmom.  

I texted R all throughout the day.  She was happy and calm all day.  That evening we had Sambo's party.  It was wonderful to be with his birth family that night for a lot of reasons.  It was comforting to be with people that understand the trauma and heartbreak and also indescribable joy of adoption.  And it was good for them to experience the angst and worry about what was happening to R in the hospital.  We grew closer that night as a result of that shared experience.    

That evening around 8:30 I got the text that our sweet baby had been born.  R was open with details and asked us if we wanted him immunized.  She said she was feeling great and he was perfectly healthy. 

This was the picture we got saying he was here. 

As soon as I heard he was here, I had a flood of peace and hope.  I needed hope and here it was.  I needed peace and it was here too.  

To put it simply, he was born a day after G's supposed "deadline."  He was born on a day when the world needed a sign that God holds children in the palm of his hand.  If he had been born a week earlier, we wouldn't have had him.  His birthfather would be his father.  If he had been born much later, we wouldn't have gotten him either.  He came on the perfect day. 

P.S.  You won't have to wait 7 months this time.  More of the story to come within a day or so.