Saying Goodbye To Amanda Rose Glidden

My last blog titled "The Only Baby I Ever Planned" ended  with me having a meeting with my first choice when it came to the parents that would raise my baby. This was the last paragraph of that blog:     

                My baby's adoptive mom looked at me and asked if I knew the gender and I told

                her no. She confided she would love a little girl but would be just as thrilled with

                a little boy. She was beaming as if she were carrying my child inside of her. She

                next asked if I'd be okay with her touching my stomach and I said she could. My

                baby moved and she got to feel it. Her eyes filled with tears and she said, "Thank

                You" in the most sincerely loving way a human being could say to another human

                 being.

I only remember attempting to smile at her. What she said next, I was not expecting. She leaned in a little closer almost as if it was a confidential promise, "What ever name you pick will remain the name of your baby." My world rocked. I had not allowed myself to pick names . . . boys or girls. That knowledge sank in. I don't remember how I got to the meeting and I don't remember how I got home. It's all blank. It was late November / Early December. 

I tried to keep my mind off the baby as much as a pregnant woman can. I kept busy. My mom had a paper route . .. . 3 routes actually. All 3 of them were walking routes. Every other day I delivered the papers. It was part of my family duty. I enjoyed it. Fresh air. Exercise. I kept my mind focused on apartment buildings and who in each building got the paper. On Sundays we did the route together. It was good. One of the few times in my life up to now that my mom and I got along. 

My original due date was March 6th, my birthday. They moved it back to March 24th. I arranged for Jeff, Cassy and William's father, to take the children the weekend before my due date. I told him I would need him and his mom to keep them for 3 weeks. I woke up in labor on April 3, 1991, right in time for the paper route to be delivered. My mom checked my contractions and they were over seven minutes apart. My mom went to deliver the papers and I called Lena to have her come sit with me.

By the time Mom got back from delivering papers it was time to head to the hospital. We got there and checked in. I was settled into a delivery room. A nurse came in and asked if I wanted an epidural. I said I did as I wanted to feel NOTHING. She assured me I'd be able to push but I wouldn't feel pain.I was asked if I wanted to hold the baby after it was born. I said no. I was too afraid to do that.  I don't remember much about what we talked about while we waited. I remember someone coming in and checking on my progress and she popped my water. She stated that would speed things up and my mom said, "Boy will it ever". When she walked toward the door, my mom questioned, "Where are you going?" She informed my mother I was at least an hour away from delivering and she walked out of the room. Not even ten minutes later my mom ran out into the hallway to announce that the baby was coming and we needed assistance. As often has happened when I deliver things are not in order and it gets pretty crazy. In no time flat I gave birth to a 9lb 6oz baby girl. The doctor held up my baby and announced, "We have a baby girl."

I was taken clear on the other side of the hospital as I had requested not to be in the maternity ward. Lena came with me. When my nurse came to check on me, I asked if it was okay if I walked around. She said if you feel up to it but be careful. I said I would. When she left, I looked at Lena and said, "I can't stand it. You want to go see her?" Of course Lena did. We went out of my room smiled at the girls at the desk went around the corner and into the elevator. We went down and then across to the maternity ward through a tunnel. I would say it's a REALLY good Walk! The nurse in the nursery was just getting ready to feed her and she asked if I would like to feed her. I could not stop myself. I had to hold her. I fed her, I admired her, I sang to her, I breathed in her newborn sent. Every fiber of my being wanted to keep her in my arms. Right then I looked up and my nurse was looking at me through the glass motioning me to come out. She greeted me with a wheel chair and said, "Child when I said you could walk around, I did not mean for you to take a mile hike. You could bleed to death. We need to check on you come on. I gave Amanda back to the nursery nurse and climbed in the chair. 

I went back again and again to hold her and feed her. I thought long and hard about what to name her. I always loved the name Amanda and hadn't picked that before because Jeff's sister already had an Amanda. For her middle name I decided on Rose. It was my Grandmother's first name and I thought that she was as beautiful as a rose. I filled out her birth certificate and filled out the final paperwork numbly. I was informed they had received Bruce's sign off. I knew that they had found him for he called me only one other time than the time to tell me goodbye. He wanted to know if the adoption papers were the real deal or if I was trapping him into paying child support. I told him I was giving the baby up the papers were not a trick. I was shocked they had found him then but not when they told me he had signed off. 

I was released 24 hours before Amanda. I came back to hold her. I had kept my bracelet on. When I went back the second time thinking I would be able to give her one last feeding, I was informed I had just missed her by fifteen minutes. I fell apart. I am a complete utter mess as I type. I must end here for I feel as if my chest is going to explode out of my chest from such fierce pain. 

Today I pray for all birth moms whose hearts ache. May our baby's know we loved them. May they never doubt that. May we feel at peace with our decisions. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

Wendy, 

Mom of many

The Only Baby I Ever Planned

My last blog titled "I'm Learning to Be the Light" ironically revealed the details of how I came to have my first abortion. If you have been following me from the beginning of my story you know that I am a mother to 9 of my 12 children that God blessed me with. Two of those 12 I elected to not bring into this world and the one in the middle of them I planned to conceive.

To catch you up a little more, I'd blown Jimmy off as well as avoided Richard at every turn until he stopped coming around at all. I was working two jobs and raising two children on my own. The last thing in the world I was looking for was love and that's when I met Bruce Malone. Dark brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes and he stood over 6' tall. He was a walking talking dream of a guy. He was in college and was on the basketball team. He came over to my apartment one night and we ended up hitting it off. Within 3 months of dating Bruce had asked me to marry him. I had said yes. From that point, he non-stop begged me to have a baby with him. I don't know why I thought it would take more than a couple tries for me to get pregnant but it didn't. I was pregnant the same month we began trying.

To save money and get ready to move to Iowa where Bruce was going to college I moved in with my Aunt Janet and my Uncle Bob. Bruce was supposed to be arranging us housing. He only called me once a week to update me on the progress and to see how the baby and I were getting along. Right after Halloween he called and before I had a chance to even say "How are you doing?", he said, "Wendy, I need to say this so just listen. I love you. I will always love you. This is too much. I'm not ready. My mom has moved and she changed her number, the college has moved me to a new dorm and they have been informed that you are not to have my new information. Don't bother my friends they too have been warned. Good Luck." and he hung up on me.

I was frozen. I think I dropped the phone. Instantly my Aunt knew something was wrong. Through my tears I shared what Bruce had said. She thought it might be in my best interest to go over to my Uncle Jeff's house and talk to him and his wife. They lived about 15 minutes away.Jeff and Lena, while technically my Aunt and Uncle, are basically my age. Jeff has always been more like a brother to me. Getting in the car was likely not the wisest thing for me to do, but the children did not need to see me fall into a shamble of tears.

I really don't remember what all transpired over the next week or so other than the repo man showed up and towed off my car. I had not made a payment in 3 months. With no car, no soon to be husband, no job, my Aunt Janet had a heart to heart talk with me during nap time.

She asked me some really pointed questions. Seeing how I had struggled on my own with two children how did I think I would be able to provide for three on my own? She asked if I could honestly say I would never blame this child for how my life turned out. She asked if I thought it was fair to raise a baby on my own knowing her father wanted nothing to do with her? In the end I decided that the fairest thing for all of the children would be to give this baby to someone who was longing for a baby of their own to raise.

I contacted an adoption agency that allowed me to pick who the parents of my baby were going to be. I started with countless applications. Read resume after resume. In the end I narrowed it down to three and then put them in order of my first choice to my third choice. I requested to meet them before making my final decision. You get a much better feel for a person in person than you do off paper.

I did not know the baby I was carrying was a girl at this point. I did not know her gender until she was born. I didn't want to know. I knew me. Better not to know. What I did know was I wanted this baby to have a sibling for if I had kept him or her, they would not have been an only child. I wanted the couple I chose to know God. The couple I chose had a 4 year old boy and they wanted him to have a sibling. It was obvious that there was belief of God in their home just by their file. When I met with them, they promised to send me pictures of my baby for the first year. I could mail in pictures to the adoption agency and letters for them to keep in a file for my baby if I wanted to. They promised me when he/she turned 18 they would allow him/her to search for me if that was his/her desire. I told the mediator of the meeting that I was happy with them and they were the ones I wanted to gift with my child.

My baby's adoptive mom looked at me and asked if I knew the gender and I told her no. She confided she would love a little girl but would be just as thrilled with a little boy. She was beaming as if she were carrying my child inside of her. She next asked if I'd be okay with her touching my stomach and I said she could. My baby moved and she got to feel it. Her eyes filled with tears and she said, "Thank You" in the most sincerely loving way a human being could say to another human being.

I am in convulsions crying and must stop. I knew this was going to be painful . . . I can barely breathe . . . I promise to come back and finish this chapter quicker than what I have been blogging lately. Some roads are harder to travel down than others.

Today I pray for all women and all babies, longed for, miscarried, aborted, adopted and cherished alike. I pray for any and all the broken hearts. I give thanks that I know my children I gave back to God are with God as all unborn babies are. I pray peace over all with aching hearts. In Jesus name I pray.

Wendy, Mom of Many