I never thought I'd wish for this

Last week I randomly happened upon a show on the travel channel about China. I rarely watch any TV geared for anyone over the age of 4, so I was in heaven for 20 or so minutes of adult TV. Sam eventually came over and asked what I was watching, so I pointed out to him that I had been in the exact place they were showing on the screen.

"It's a show about China. Mommy has been right there!"

Instead of being impressed with that fact, he asked, "Can we watch the show about Skokie?"

Unfortunately, I have yet to find a travel channel show about the particular suburb of Chicago Sam was born in, but I told him we'd do something even better than watch a show about Skokie - we could go there! I told him that Monday after Sadie's adoption court we could go visit Skokie and see the hospital where he was born. He was beside himself with excitement.

Monday morning I woke him up at 5:45 am to get ready to go, since we had to be downtown by 8. He usually sleeps in until 7:30 or 8, so he was in quite a bit of a daze. Seeing the look on his face, I thought he was going to cry at the prospect of having to wake up. He surprised me with our conversation:

Sam: Is it morning?
Me: Yes. We have to get up and get going.
Sam: Do we get to go to Skokie?
Me: Yes, after we go to Sadie's adoption.
Sam: (while clapping his hands) I'm so excited!

And then the words I never expected to hear come out of his 3-year-old mouth: "Will my mommy-tummy be there?"

With tears welling up in my eyes, I explained that she wouldn't be there. He moved on to getting dressed and thankfully didn't ask why I was crying.

Now, we have talked about the fact that he has a "tummy-mommy", but I didn't think much was sinking in about it. We never want him to remember a time where he did not know he was adopted or know that I did not physically give birth to him, so we started talking about adoption concepts before he could understand them.

Thanks to some pregnant friends we have talked about how babies grow in mommies' tummies, and lots of times the babies stay with their "tummy-mommy," but sometimes they can't. He knows his tummy-mommy picked us to be his mom and dad, and that we will be his mom and dad forever. He has pictures in his room of his court proceedings, and we've discussed how the lawyer helped us ask to get to be his mom and dad and how the judge said it was ok.

However, in getting to those concepts, he never seems too interested in what point I am trying to get across. He's pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing, and usually moves on to a new topic without a second thought.

One time when discussing Sadie being in China, I was trying to get him to see that she had a tummy-mommy in China just like he had a tummy-mommy. I was going through a bunch of questions trying to get him to come to the conclusion on his own. When I got to asking where Sadie was before she was born, he looked me straight in the face with a big grin and told me "Panera."

So, while I know he knows about his tummy-mommy, I never imagined he gave it much serious thought. And I never connected that he would think she'd be there on our visit to Skokie.

I thought we were done with the topic until we were on the drive up to Skokie after court. We told him we would go eat lunch the same place we ate the day we took him home from the hospital, and he wanted to know if his tummy-mommy would bring lunch to us. And then when he and Joe went inside the hospital to look around (and couldn't go up to the 2nd floor since the hospital no longer has a labor and delivery floor) he asked Joe if his tummy-mommy was upstairs.

His questions weren't all that emotional (unlike his parents as we heard them!), but kind of more like just a logical connection he was making: I was in my tummy-mommy's tummy before I was born, I was born in Skokie, and therefore, my tummy-mommy must be in Skokie.

But for Joe and I, it was heart-breaking to see him make that connection. Not that we didn't know it would come, we just never expected it so soon. And while it is pretty matter-of-fact right now, we know there will come a day when it's not. I have researched and read about the the sense of loss for an adopted child, I just never expected it to be so hard to watch. I wish there was something I could say or do to make it go away, but there's not. It is a fact of his life.

When Sam's birthmother chose us to be his parents I was delighted that she did not want to exchange any identifying information - it just felt safer to me. I had read the research on openness in adoptions and knew that completely open adoptions are usually good for all involved, but was glad I didn't have to find out for myself.

However, we were able to be with his birthmother at the hospital. Being able to meet her gave us more than we expected. It was wonderful to see what she looked like, so that someday we can tell Sam what we remember about her. It was wonderful to be able to talk to her and tell her how grateful we were that she chose us to be her baby's parents. It was wonderful to know that she wanted us to be there as soon as he was born.

While the day Sam was born was one of the happiest of our lives, I also had this odd sense of guilt, like I was taking away someone's baby. Being able to talk to his birthmother made a huge difference for me. In one of our conversations with her she thanked us. She said "thank you" with a depth of emotion I have never heard before, nor will I ever be able to adequately explain. The sense of guilt lifted - in that moment I knew that this was the choice she felt she had to make and that she had chosen us for her son - our son.

And that brings me to the thing I thought I would never wish for - a more open adoption. If hearing her say "thank you" made such a difference for me, it makes me wonder what words Sam will wish he could hear from her.

I wish she was there in Skokie yesterday. I wish it was as easy as just going upstairs in the hospital to find her - like some kind of time warp where he could just crawl up into her bed and tell her about whatever he wanted (which would probably be how his dad and papa and grandma are way better at computer games than his mom - his current favorite discussion topic).

I wish she could see what a delightful little boy he has become. I wish she could know how much he is loved and how much he loves others. I wish she could hear him laugh.

But most of all, I wish he could ask her all the questions I know he will have that only she can answer.