The story

It's been a long couple of weeks.

I've written before about my friend who is 19 and pregnant. She delivered a healthy daughter two weeks ago Tuesday, and my life has been a whirlwind ever since (though nothing compared to hers, I can assure you). Things are just getting back to normal for me. It may seem a little odd that the birth of a friend's baby would cause me to miss two weeks of blogging, especially since she was placing the baby with adoptive parents. Fortunately, she doesn't mind if I write about it. And she's given me permission to share the key piece of information that helps explain everything a little better.

You see, Jonna is not just my friend. She's also my sister. And if you could see how well she handled this impossibly difficult situation, you'd be as proud of her as I am.

I'm glad to have her permssion to write about it, for many reasons. For one, it shows a level of trust that means the world to me. For another, I'm relieved to be able to explain my two week extended absense directly instead of having to filter information. But mostly I'm glad to be able to share her story. From my point of view, it started sometime in January.

It was sometime in January that my sister told me she was three months pregnant. Apparently, she had waited several months to tell me because my mom didn't want her to "ruin Christmas." (We gave my mom shit about that for months.) By the time I knew anything about it, Jonna had already decided to do an open adoption, and she was already fairly sure of who she wanted to be the adoptive parents.

Apparently it is en vouge with the younger set these days for young women to raise their own children -- to "keep the baby" -- regardless of how old they are when they become pregnant. Which is fine; I have nothing against that. I think the decision on how to handle an undexpected pregnancy is extremely difficult and intensely personal, and I don't think there is one answer that works for everyone. Each woman has to make her own choices. Sadly, these younger parents do not often extend the same understanding to those who have made a decsion that is different than the one they made. As a consequence, Jonna lost most of her friends when it became clear that she was serious about adoption. It is ironic, considering that it was the time in her life when she most needed the support of friends. And it's ironic because it is the difficult situtions in life that allow a person to prove the value of a friendship.

If anything good came of her being abandoned by her friends, I'd like to think that it was having the opportunity for she and I to grow closer. Before November, when Jonna found out she was pregnant, we had been becoming better friends as she prepared to move out of our parent's house for the first time. For the three months that she chose to keep her pregnancy a secret, we started to drift apart again as she inexplicably halted plans to move on. It was a huge relief to find out that most of that growing apart came from keeping key parts of her life a secret -- from most of the family, not just me. After we were able to talk about it, Jonna and I grew closer than we'd ever been before. Though it's a little selfish, I'm glad for that.

As the pregnancy came into the third trimester, it became obvious that Jonna was gaining weight too quickly. For the last few weeks, she went through several rounds of testing for gestational diabetes. Finally, on June 26th, she was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with preeclampsia. Though she had four weeks to go, her doctor made the decision to induce. And so I got a call Monday evening from my mom telling me that Jonna was going to have the baby. Jonna told me over the phone that she was excited to see the adoptive parents, and that they were already flying in from the East coast. My wife and I promptly made plans to drive to Kansas.

Because the induction was going slowly on Monday night, we elected to wait until Tuesday evening to leave. Jonna's daughter* was born Tuesday afternoon. Though she was born a few weeks early, she was a perfectly healthy baby. I walked into the delivery room at about 9:30 on Tuesay evening, and you could cut the tension with a knife.

The adoptive parents were very tense in the way all first time parents are. On top of that, there was pressure to let Jonna hold the baby, since she was only going to be around for a few days before moving half way across the country. Jonna, having just given birth, was physically and emotionally exhausted. She was politely refusing to hold the baby, partly out of respect for the adoptive parents -- she didn't want them to think she was going to get too attached -- but also because she was afraid that maybe she would get too attached, and then where would she be in a few days?

There seemed to be a lot of secrets in the room. The adoptive parents were whispering to each other so Jonna couldn't hear, and my family was whispering so the adoptive parents couldn't hear. Though everyone was saying all the right things out loud, you'd never know it from the body language. While listening to all the whispered conversations, it seemed that nobody was saying anything that couldn't be said to everyone. So I played an Older Brother card and started saying it so everyone could hear. Tension seemed to subside a little bit.

Eventually, the adoptive parents decided to go back to their hotel so Jonna could have some pressure-free time alone with the baby. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for them to leave. I needed to get my own kids in bed, but Jonna wanted me to come back. I dropped my wife and kids off at grandma's and returned to the hospital. Jonna was holding the baby when I got back. We were there until 3am.

The next morning, the adoptive papers were to be signed at 10:00. On very little sleep, we went back to the hospital to be there with Jonna. Remarkably, the mood in the room was vastly improved over the previous night. Even just a little bit of rest had helped immensely, and no doubt the adoptive parents felt they'd cleared a major hurdle just by seeing the baby again. Everyone was kicked out the first time when a social worker arrived, and kicked out again half an hour later when the lawyer arrived. The legal work was completed with little fanfare.

We had hoped that Jonna would get a sense of closure when she and the baby were discharged from the hospital. Alas, it was not to be. The baby was cleared to leave Wednesday afternoon, but Jonna's blood pressure remained way too high. I had to work the next day, but my wife volunteered to stay with Jonna so she didn't have to be alone. I stayed with Jonna while my wife dropped off our kids at her mom's house an hour away. At 10:30pm, I began the three hour drive back to Omaha. Jonna was discharged on Thursday afternoon.

By the time I was headed back to Kansas after work on Friday afternoon, Jonna had been readmitted to the hospital for having high blood pressure and low hemoglobin. This threw Jonna’s plans to see the baby on Friday into disarray. They wouldn’t manage to see each other that day.

I returned to Kansas on Friday evening, but I didn’t get there until around 10 pm, which was after visiting hours. I was back at the hospital Saturday afternoon. The adoptive parents had been by with the baby in the morning, and they stopped in briefly while I was there. Jonna kissed the baby and they left. It wasn’t until about an hour later that I realized what I’d seen. It was the last time that Jonna got to hold the baby. They were going home.

Saturday and Sunday were spent in hopes that Jonna would be out of the hospital in time for fireworks on the Fourth of July. It didn’t happen. In fact, she didn’t get out of the hospital until Wednesday – a week and a half after she’d first gone in. This weekend I drove to Kansas again to see her at home. She’s lost 40 lbs. and counting and already looks so much better.

Jonna, I just want to tell you one more time how proud I am of you. Not for “doing the right thing” – I would have supported you no matter what decision you made. I’m proud of you for making the decision, period, and then sticking with it and seeing it to the end. And you know what? The end isn’t exactly here yet, and I suspect it never really will be. But things will get easier with time.

Which isn’t to say that you didn’t make the right decision. You’ve explained it to me, but I don’t think the words you use convince me that it was the right decision nearly so much as the confidence with which you use them. I think it was the right decision for you. I know this is a hard time right now – harder than you expected, maybe. But I’m very excited about your future. And I’m glad you let me tell your story.

But mostly I’m glad to know you. I love you, sis.


* Although I do have Jonna's permission to write about this, I haven't asked the adoptive parents. Because of this, I think it's best if I leave off the baby’s name and birth stats. I will say this, though: She is the most gorgeous baby girl on the face of this planet.

Jonna: Charlie, we have beautiful children.
Me: Yeah, we do.
<pause>
Me: But, uh, that's a little weird.
Jonna: Yeah, it is.