How One Birthmother Chose a New Family for Her Son
The following is adapted from Finding Hope.
“You’re pregnant.” These were not the words that I wanted to hear when I was a twenty-one-year-old college student, and yet, there I was, faced with the biggest decision of my life. After a lot of deliberation, I decided to place my child for adoption, and I chose the open route, which meant that I would still have an ongoing connection to my son. I knew it was the right decision for my son’s life at the time, even if it didn’t feel best for mine.
But that was just the first decision of many. After figuring out that I wanted to place my son for adoption, I was faced with an equally gigantic question: who would give him the best life moving forward?
Maybe you’re facing this situation yourself. Or maybe you’re on the opposite side, and you’re thinking about what it takes to be a good parent. Either way, it’s a worthwhile exercise to sit down and think, what qualities do I want to nurture in a child? What values are most important when it comes to family? Read on to learn about the process of choosing my son’s mom, and more importantly, read on to learn what traits made me confident that she was the one.
Trusting My Gut Feeling
As I began to navigate the adoption waters, I pursued a couple of different options. My sister knew a couple in Iowa who wanted to adopt. I had several conversations with them, but it never felt right. They were too close to home, and it wasn’t clicking. I spoke to a gay couple from New York City who seemed like lovely people, but it didn’t click, either.
I also registered online with adoption agencies—and let me tell you, they were on their game. I registered one day, and the next day, a packet showed up at my door. In my research, I saw the adoption “books” for many couples—the packages hopeful adoptive parents put together that tell their stories. It tells you who they are, what kind of parents they’ll be, and why they’re seeking adoption.
One evening, I was sitting in a recliner at my mom’s house, searching on Google. I’d already read thousands of adoption books from prospective parents. Then I saw it, there on the side of the page like an ad: an adoption book that would change my life, and my son’s life, forever.
Holy shit, I thought. This is it.
I just knew. As I read more, I learned this adoptive mother lived in California. She wanted to be a mother more than anything—something she’d decided later in life—and wanted to do that as a single parent by choice. She had her life together and wasn’t on anyone else’s timeline. She wanted to do this and knew she was capable! I could tell she was very in tune with herself. This is who I want to be someday, I thought. This is the kind of life I want my child to have.
I didn’t even know the woman, but I had a warm, comfortable feeling as I reviewed her adoption book. We even looked alike, in a way. I emailed her to reach out (and also her lawyer, to make sure she was a legit person) and I felt my son kicking in my belly—just more proof that it was all for a reason.
Following Up at a Distance
After emailing and texting back and forth for a short time, we decided to video chat via Skype. My mom met her, too, that way. My mom had thought the adoption book was fake and had hoped I didn’t see it, but I did.
In fact, the more this woman and I talked, the more I wanted to pursue her as my baby’s adoptive parent. I looked up to her instantly, and I never even searched again for another placement option after her ad came up on Google. We’d only communicated using technology at that point, but I already couldn’t imagine breaking her heart.
You can learn a lot about a person from the way they communicate. She exuded confidence and approachability at the same time. She went out of her way to understand and support me, and it was clear that she cared, not only about the baby, but also about making sure that I was cared for and included in the process.
About two weeks after that fateful Google search, I was on a plane out to California to meet the woman who would become my son’s adoptive mother.
Seeing My Son’s Future Life
I saw her as soon as I stepped into the baggage claim in the Los Angeles Airport. She was (and is) beautiful without trying to be. Although I anticipated being nervous or scared, I wasn’t.
In the days that followed, she got me a prenatal massage. Then, we went to the beach, and she brought her friend along. Both their dogs came with us—Sadie and Koda. We picked up sandwiches and packed the car together. From those early moments, she included me in her life, and meeting her friends gave me a better sense of who she was as a person.
That day at the beach, I wasn’t just meeting my son’s mother, but I was also meeting the life my son would have. I envisioned it—these would be his sandwiches, his ocean days. My son’s mother also told me her dad owned a couple of McDonald’s, and we joked that the baby would have chicken nuggets for life—funny, because I loved chicken nuggets. This made me feel warm.
Hashing Out the Details
The more I got to know the woman who would become my son’s mother, the more I fell in love with the idea of my baby growing up with her and me being a part of his life in some way. I still wasn’t sure how much contact I wanted, but we both agreed we wanted the baby to know where he came from. It was an open adoption from day one—we just needed to sort out the details. I knew I wanted to be far away because being too close seemed too hard—an intuition that would prove very true later on. I just wasn’t sure what it all would look like.
As this was our initial meeting, we were still feeling each other out, to a degree. I knew that I was, as both my lawyer and her lawyer would eventually tell me, the “holy grail” of birthmothers. I came from a good family, was educated, did not have problems with health, and had full-coverage health insurance. In those early moments in California, though, I felt like I’d found the holy grail of an adoptive parent for my son. Some people are picky when it comes to adoption, wanting particular genders or races. She was the opposite; she didn’t care. Although she hadn’t been looking long, she told me I was not the first birthmother she talked to, and she expressed that she did feel lucky to have found me. In that moment, I felt the same about her.
Committing to Make It Work
Driving back from dinner —after a day at the beach where I’d gotten fried in the California sun—she mentioned a beautiful, trendy hotel she’d like me to see in West Hollywood: Chateau Marmont.
“I’ll take you there if you come back,” she said, as we sat in traffic in the rare shade of a Los Angeles underpass.
“I’ll be back,” I told her, knowing it in that moment. And I meant it.
She grabbed my hand. That moment was our way of saying, Let’s do this together.
And we did.
That’s not to say that it was always easy, or that we didn’t have our differences. But at heart, we were both dedicated to making sure the baby was going to have the best life possible. That meant supporting each other, being clear and honest, and being willing to have those difficult conversations. It meant trusting one another, and committing to my son’s future.
For more advice on open adoption, you can find Finding Hope on Amazon.
After placing her newborn son for adoption in 2013, Hope O Baker struggled with depression, addiction, and overcoming the stigma that surrounds birthmothers. In her first book, Finding Hope: A Birthmother’s Journey Into the Light, she shares her story of a successful, open adoption—and all the heartache and light that came along the way. Hope is a passionate advocate for those on all sides of adoption. You can find her online at HopeOBaker.com or follow her on Instagram at @HopeOBaker. Hope visits her son regularly, and she currently lives with her loving partner and her wonderful stepkids.