FLASHBACK - JULY 7 2009

ROUND 11

JULY 7, 2009

One of the hardest days of my life. 

Re-packed our bags to re locate to Modesto due to the new circumstances of baby girl being in the NICU. We wanted to be close - to feed and care for her as often as possible.

A loooong drive that included a written list of possible baby names... Layla was mixed in somewhere between Jenna and Kylee

Check into the ROACH MOTEL... literally - bugs in the bed. It's all we could afford. 

We were invited to the hospital again. This time, we had a few minutes alone with baby girl.

We received our "bands." Kday and I shared a secret smile of "I can't believe this is really happening!." 

We held her without hesitation. Kissed her as if she was already our own flesh and blood.

And her nurse asked us what her name would be. 

We don't know - we asked her for some help.... she rattled off a few and then suggested Layla. Kevin was holding her and his face lit up. 

That was it - it fit her perfectly.

Layla

I begin to sob for Layla's birthmother. I can't possibly do this if she isn't going to be OK. 

Feelings of guilt wash over me, am I taking this baby from it's mother?

Am I being selfish?

Only a few moments passed and it was time to leave. Birth mom deserves all the time in the world with her baby today, because in a few hours she'll relinquish her rights.

Kday and I try to eat dinner.  Instead- we pace the hotel in prep for the meeting tonight at 11pm. 

Relinquishment.

Meanwhile in Utah. Kday's mom runs into our neighbor. She asks them to start a calling tree and tell everyone to pray for us at 10pm Utah time. 

I'm worried that she won't have the strength to sign. I'm scared that I will never be able to thank her if she does. What do we say? How do we do this? Kday never lets go of my hand - the entire drive to the meeting place. 

It's dark, it's late, and it's quiet. 

Kday sits on my left- our palms sweating in each other's hand.

We give her a small token of our love... nothing that could compare to the miracle she's giving us. It feels so silly that we even tried fit our "thanks" into a box. 

It's time. 

She goes into the other room. I can hear her sobbing. I hear her pause. My heart stops.

Her tears smudge the paper. She signs.

My heart begins to beat for Layla now.

She won't even look at me as she comes back into the room.

Now it's our turn.

The legal jargon is read to us.

I pick up the pen, then I hesitate.

I put the pen back down. 

I don't know if I can do this.
I want more than anything to be a mom. But not at somebody's expense. 

More hesitation allows me to hear her quietly sniffling in the room beside us. 

Kevin helps me. The caseworker tells me that she'll be OK. It's what she wants.

We sign the papers. 

It's done. 

There is not much more to say. 

I tried to pour my heart out. It was useless and she stops me. 

She is hurting too bad and doesn't want to hear it. 

Every fear of her hating me for this comes to fruition. 

I'm handed a letter from the birth father who signed his papers earlier - privately.

She resistantly hugs me and Kday.

An hour after we began, we go our separate ways. 

I cried all the way to the hospital. 

I've never cried so hard in my life. 

How can I be so full of joy and so heartbroken at the same time?

I scoop up my baby Layla and rock her... for the first time as her mother.

I watch as Kday changes her diaper for the first time...

And my heart begins to heal.