Picking a family

Since I had so little time before Ryan's birth, and we were getting Ray's rights terminated, and we didn't know if he would be healthy, my baby was born and I had not yet chosen a family yet.

Ryan was out of the hospital and with the foster mom with the agency and was doing well. Ray's rights weren't terminated yet, but only a few more days had to pass that that would be completed, so mom and I went to the agency to look at profiles. They handed me two. At the time that didn't seem like a big deal, but now after speaking to other birth moms, that wasn't much to choose from. As it turned out, two was more than I needed. Mom took one and I started reading the other. The couple seemed really nice. He was a doctor that taught at a medical school back east and they had the huge house and the nice cars, etc. I hadn't even finished reading when mom shoved hers in my my hand and said this is the couple. I told her that I wanted to finish reading the one I started and she just said again, "these are the ones". I finished and handed her the profile that I was reading and picked up R. and J.'s profile. Immediately I could tell how much they loved each other from the letter they wrote. On the next page was the empty nursery that was in their home from previous failed adoptions. There were more pics of their family and a their dream home that they were planning to build on their land. Then I turned the page and my heart melted in my chest. I know is may seem silly, but there was a picture of R. standing in his cattle field in a pair of bib overalls. To most people that would mean nothing, but my grandpa wore bib overalls every day, and for some reason that spoke to me. I finished looking at the profile and with every word and every picture, I knew that my baby would have a home.

The Message

At this point the adoption agency was taking care of Ryan. When he was released he would go home with a foster mom until a placement was made. I couldn't even call the hospital to find out how he was doing, all I could do was contact the agency and they would call and then fill me in on his condition. He spent three days in the hospital before he was released.

When I got home there was a message on my pager from Ray. These were the days before cell phones were readily available so everyone had pagers. He asked me how HIS son was doing and called me every expletive you could think of. Now, the only way that he could possibly know that Ryan had been born the night before is, if either my mom or my supposed friend Tina had told him. I know that my mom had nothing to say to him, so I am pretty sure that she took it upon herself to once again insert herself in the middle of something that she had no business getting into. I thought that she was there for me and was supporting me in what I was doing, but I would soon find out that she was an immature, back stabbing bitch that wanted nothing but more heartache for me. I was going through a lot and someone who had supposedly been my friend for 10 years was siding with the abusive man that was making my life even harder.

That call on my pager was the last time that I heard Ray's voice for a couple years, and that was the best thing for me.

Just let me die.

Soon my mom came and was told that I was in the nursery and came to see me. She walked in and I could see the pain in her face. Looking at her baby holding a baby of her own. She asked to hold him and I could see how I was tearing her heart out. This was her first grand baby (close to home) and soon he would be gone. Again I felt like the worst person in the world. I was destroying so many lives with my actions, I knew that I could never make things right again.

After a while the nurse came in and told me that I would be discharged soon and had to complete some paperwork before I left, so I had to go back to my room. We both said good-bye to the baby and left him. So tiny and helpless and here I was, leaving him alone. He would have to stay in the hospital for a few days, and then the agency foster mom would come and pick him up. My duties as a mother were over.

When back in the room a lady came down and wanted me to fill out the paperwork for his birth certificate. When it came time to name him I knew what his name should be.

When my mom was pregnant with me, everyone was sure that I would be a boy and they only decided on a boys name. Now, my dad, being the person he is, decided that all his children would have the same initials. My sister is René Denise, my brother is Richard Desmond, my dad is Richard Dale and I was to be Ryan Daniel. Well obviously, I came out a girl and became Robyn Deborah. So when the lady asked, I named my son Ryan Daniel. Even if his new parents changed his name, he would have mine for a little while.

I saw my mom's heart break again, and once again I felt that I shouldn't have done that. I just kept screwing everything up.

Not long after that, I was discharged from the hospital and had to leave Ryan behind. I was abandoning him and I just wanted to die. He had no advocate there at the hospital that was "family". I knew that one day he would realize what a horrible person his mother was and would be glad that I didn't raise him.

I was wrong

I had convinced myself that this was going to be easy. I didn't know I was pregnant until recently, I was placing the child for adoption. Piece of cake.

They wheeled me from my room to the nursery and the first thing I saw was the incubator with a tiny little person inside. As I got closer I could see the cannula helping him get oxygen and how small he was. He weighed almost 8 pounds, but to me he was very small.

When I got there the nurse asked me if I wanted to hold him and I said yes. She carefully removed him from his little plastic house and placed him in my arms. I looked down and this little person and my heart almost exploded and I started to cry. I loved him. I loved him in a way that I had never felt in my life and never wanted to let him go. All I could do was look at his beautiful face and cry.

Eventually, I composed myself enough to form words. I told him that I was him mommy and that I loved him. Then my mind started to grasp at straws. You can do this I told myself. You can raise this amazing little person. Just grab him up and run away. I knew if I just loved him enough, I could do this.

I sat for a long time thinking of ways that I could make it work, but no of them would have ever worked in a million years, because I couldn't do it. I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone a child. I wasn't what this baby needed. He needed parents who could take care of him physically, (I couldn't), financially, (I couldn't) and emotionally (I couldn't). I was a mess and all I could do for this baby was mess him up to. He needed people who were in a better place than I was. I couldn't do it and I just wanted to die. He was a piece of me and very soon, that piece would be gone forever.

BTBA

I can't believe that I have a son. That thought just kept running through my mind over and over. I was scared to death. I had no idea how he was, what was happening to him, and why no one would tell me what was going on.

Earlier in the day, I had noticed that on the top of my chart, the letters BTBA were written in bold letters in marker. After the birth, and I was in my room, I asked a nurse and she explained that it meant Baby To Be Adopted. Everything became very clear. They didn't care about me and how I was. Hell, it took 10-30 minutes before they would even answer the call button. At one point my IV blew and my arm started swelling from all the fluid just streaming under the skin. No one came. Eventually, after it started hurting so bad I couldn't take it any more, I just pulled it myself, and threw it on the floor.

I had never felt so horrible in my life, and these people were doing all they could to make me feel worse. Job accomplished.

I immediately started asking to see the baby, and the nurse explained that he had inhaled myconium and needed a little time to get breathing well on his own. I waited for a while and pressed the call button and asked to be taken to see the baby. I needed a wheel chair because I couldn't walk at this point. She said over the little intercom that someone would be with me shortly. No one came. I rang again and again and again, all night long, but no one ever came. The woman that I shared a room with had her baby delivered to her every 2 hours to nurse, but when I asked to see my son, the nurse would say that someone would be with me shortly. I cried all night.

Finally at about 5 am I couldn't take any more and started yelling. Strangely, people in hospitals start running the second you scream. They tried to pull the someone will be here shortly and I just told them that I would continue to yell until a wheel chair showed up. Amazingly, there was someone there with a chair in about 30 seconds.

I was going to see my son.