Chapter 10

Pam decided to have us meet Cassandra, her daughter, first. Patti, Pam’s sister, would be bringing her up for the day. I have to admit, I was very nervous. It was the first time that we were meeting Patti too. I have an older sister, and I understand the value of her opinion in my life; I would have to convince Patti that we were good and genuine people, worthy of Pam’s trust, in just one afternoon’s time. And as any good sister would do, I knew she was preparing for a close examination. 

Cassandra was a different story. It felt like a very delicate situation I was navigating with Pam’s daughter. She was fully aware of Pam’s pregnancy, even though they did not live together. Like Pam, she too had anticipated bringing home a baby, a little sister. Her hopes and dreams were forced to adapt when Pam made the decision for adoption. I could not begin to imagine the conflict of feelings Cassandra was navigating during a crucial time in her own life. 

I felt very nervous. Not about Patti but definitely about Cassandra. How awkward would this be? Would she be angry, jealous, disapproving?

She was becoming a young woman, being raised in the care of her maternal uncle, hoping for reunification with her mother, and trying to deal with the loss of a little sister whom she had only begun to dream about. And now here we were, strangers who had gained the trust of her mother in such a short time. As she walked into our home I could see the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She was a beautiful young woman, with dark wavy hair and brown eyes. She brought us flowers. It was a lovely gesture, initiated by Patti I am sure. As she walked gingerly into our home, she met the embrace of her mother who turned to introduce us. I was the first one outside of her immediate family that she hugged. She almost fell, exhausted, completely resigned to my embrace, her eyes filling with tears. I held her there, grieving with her in this loss. “It is so nice to finally meet you; I have heard wonderful things.” 

Pam was very proud of her daughter. Every time she mentioned her, her eyes would light up. Cassandra was beautiful inside and out. She was left in the care of her uncle, Pam’s brother, when Pam decided to go live with Joe. In that context, Cassandra worked hard at her studies and excelled in her classes. She was involved in extracurricular activities and had a servant’s heart. Pam was proud, and overwhelmed by guilt, that Cassandra had excelled despite Pam’s choices. She was strong and determined to make the most of the bleak situation. And she was thriving.

Our time together seemed to pass quickly. Our children were there, and they took to Cassandra right away. With light conversation and general information we got to know each other. It felt very natural. All of the fears and concerns I had at the start melted away with the time. Our family was growing exponentially, but it was not as much of a toil as I had expected. Patti was very accepting, as was Cassandra, and they seemed to be just as ready to embrace us as we welcomed them in. 

It was not long after that we had the second wave of family introductions: Pam’s brother Rick and his wife were coming for a visit. Although I was not as nervous for this meeting as the last, there was a bit of anxiety I had to work through in preparation for it. I knew, again, that I would be examined under the microscope – although not to as great of a degree as the last. Paul would be in the hot seat this time. What I was nervous about was meeting the sister-in-law. You see, she was pregnant.

Not just pregnant, but just as pregnant as Pam; they were both due at the beginning of November. This added a degree of difficulty to the situation. I knew Pam’s decision for adoption was a difficult one for her, but even more so with the impending birth of her niece. Yes, niece. They were both pregnant, with girls, due at the same time. While Christina anticipated her daughter’s birthday with joy, Pam did so with dread. And every year thereafter, both would face the reoccurring emotions. If family ties were successfully mended, Pam would be the aunt of a little girl who was Naomi’s age for the rest of her life.

So what was I to do at this moment? Well, become the photographer, of course! Those moments I could not control, I decided to embrace. I had to, otherwise I would have gone stark-raving mad. One day Naomi would hear of the cousin who was her own age, and have to sort through all of the same realizations we were dealing with today. I wanted to do everything in my power to make it a healthy processing. 

Pam looked so happy as I snapped those shots, but the thickness in the air could not be missed. I appreciated Christina’s willingness to go-with-the-flow, turning sideways and following my lead. Even though I knew she could not understand the importance of what she was doing there, and that for her it was more nerve-wracking, awkward, and confusing than anything, she did it. 

For Pam, if she would have thought long on it, it would have been a taxing experience as well. To her credit, though, I think she lost herself in the moment. It seemed that she was enjoying the photo shoot, placing her own feelings of fear and loss to the side. I stood behind the camera wondering if I was taking pictures of their story, one I would not be privileged to be a part of; I wondered if, in the excitement of what might be, Pam would change her mind. 

I felt awkward. At that time I didn’t know Christina very well. I was most concerned about Katelyn, too. How would Christina react to this “out of the norm” situation? Also it felt strange to have pregnancy photos taken especially when Christina’s and my situations were polar opposite. 

For Naomi’s sake, I was thankful for it; whatever the end, I was capturing key moments of her in-utero experience. I was trying to enjoy the moment for them, trying not to be fearful of things I could not control. Secretly I wished that it could have been me pregnant, confidently showing off a bump. I wanted to protect Naomi from the inevitable hurt these pictures would bring if Pam chose to follow through with her adoption plan. No matter how much I wanted to close my eyes or turn away, I could not. From behind that camera lens, I was staring, eyes wide open into the face of reality. If this path continued on toward my heart’s desire, there would be brokenness I could not mend. Both would be born in November; one kept, and the other given away.