How Our Son’s Birthmother Gave Us The Greatest Gift


This guest post is by Angela Boucher, an adoptive mother.

Some things are just meant to be.

I believe my son and I were always meant to be together. Adopting him was fate.

I am sure you are wondering why I would say that so matter-of-factly.

My journey to adoption came after years of struggle with infertility. During that struggle I felt empty and hopeless. Never once did I feel it was going to be okay, yet I continued time and time again.

That changed for me very suddenly in 2011 when we made the decision to move forward and pursue an open adoption.

We completed our profile book and were ready to be shown. I was so hopeful. It was an amazing feeling.

I can remember so clearly saying to those closest to my husband and I that I felt our baby had already been conceived. I know this sounds silly but I knew that from the moment he had become life!

I started having these feelings in late July, around the same time our son was conceived. From the moment we were matched I felt so strongly that this was it and that it was meant to be.

I don’t know if my words can ever truly describe how I felt.

I just know that my son was always my son and everything that happened prior to adopting him had to happen.

Initially, my husband and I viewed open adoption very differently. I don’t honestly think he thought anything would happen. I think he assumed we would never become parents.

For me, I had done a lot of fact finding. I had a few friends who had adopted and one had done a domestic open adoption. She was my “Go-to Gal.”

She was honest and open about both of her sons’ adoptions. I understood that it would be much different than an international adoption and I was okay with that.

What was important was that everyone involved did what was best for the child. They came first!

To find our adoption match, we used an attorney and an agency. My girlfriend had also used them.

The agency had a graphic designer who put a profile book together for you. I remember how hard it was to select 20 pictures that best represented who my husband and I were. I drove myself crazy with “Should I wear this or that. Makeup no makeup,” etc.

Our profile was only sent to people we had a lot in common with.

Someone who matched our personality and interests and vice versa. The waiting was hard. I did not prep the nursery at all. Instead I did a lot of volunteering.

I am a infertility advocate and work with men and women trying to conceive. This helped me to focus on others and stay sane.

We were chosen on Jan 30, 2012.  Our son’s birthmother said our profile was the only one she read. She said she knew instantly when she saw our cover photo that we were the ones!

Our first meeting with her was a conference call on Feb 4. Two weeks later we drove 11 hours to meet her over President’s weekend!

I was a ball of emotions and my husband was so completely sure this was the one!

We had a three hour dinner with her. At the time she stated over and over she did not want any communication after our son was born. You see, she never wanted to have a relationship.

She only wanted him to know that she loved him!

She loved him so much she gave him life and gave my husband and me the greatest gift: the ability to love her son, our son.

The next morning we meet again for breakfast and talked for several more hours. We knew the next time we would meet was at the hospital.

She was due on Feb 28 but did not deliver until March 9. We drove out prior to the day she was to be induced.

She was alone and only one or two people knew the situation. They completely supported her, but she did not want anyone at the hospital but us.

We meet the night prior for dinner and discussed our hospital plan. The following morning we met at 6:45 a.m. and she started labor.

It was long and emotional. In the hours that passed the three of us talked about anything and everything.

My husband gave us time here and there to have girl talk. She and I held each other’s hands.

We laughed, we cried and we cried some more. I’ll never forget it was us and another couple across the hall also in labor.

When the couple across the hall delivered, family was in the hallway cheering, celebrating. There was flowers, family and laughter. It was so different for the three of us!

Around midnight my husband choose to lay down in another room. I stayed with her and we both started to rest a bit. We were told it was only going to be a few more hours so while we could we rested.

Suddenly a little after 1:30 a.m. nurse came running into the room and switched all the lights on! She asked me to leave and said the doctor was on his way.

They had lost the baby’s heartbeat.

I nearly fainted. I ran down the hall to awaken my husband. All I could think was no, no this just can not be!

I was so upset I got sick. My husband went toward her room. He waited in the hall. I joined him a few minutes later,

We stood there. No hugs, no family, no celebrations. We waited alone and then we heard our son cry. It was the most amazing sound I ever heard.

It turns out our son had moved so low into his birthmother’s birth canal that when they looked for his heartbeat they could not find it. He made us wait for hours but when he was ready he came. Strictly on his own terms!

A few minutes later we went into the room and met our son. I’ll never forget seeing him, holding him. His birthmother held out her arms, handed him to me and said, “Here is your baby.” It was amazing!

When we were alone with our son for the first time, my husband cried. It was the one and only time I have ever seen him do that. 

Our son had to stay several days after he was born. The hospital was great. They allowed us to stay with him. They even gave us parenting classes.

His birthmother came back and forth to visit us at the hospital. We even had dinners together. We saw one another almost everyday while we waited for our ICPC.

We were able to come home with our son on March 17. We arrived home to a celebration! Our families were waiting with arms wide open. Finally, our house was a home!

My son is a blessing. I am hopeful that one day we will be blessed again.

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