Chapter 11

As time drew near for the delivery, the midwife monitoring Pam’s pregnancy initiated discussion on in-hospital care. She would be delivering at Saint Mary’s Medical Center, a hospital that emphasizes breast-feeding and post-birth bonding through physical contact. Kimberly wanted Pam to articulate her personal preference for the event. 

“Do you want to do skin-to-skin contact after birth?” Yes, we wanted her to facilitate this bonding experience for both of us. It would be an open adoption, and Pam desired to bond with Naomi in this way. I felt unsettled. The thought of stripping my shirt and holding Naomi post-birth against my skin was going to be awkward. I had been involved in the birth of my second son, and I knew the tension of that moment would be real. While ideal, I did not think the touchy-feely view was realistic for our situation. I did not think it was a good idea for Pam to be bonding with Naomi, and I did not think she would appreciate the sight of me bonding with her either. But I tried to force myself to be optimistic — for Pam’s sake.

I felt concerned. What if I didn’t react correctly? What if I became too attached? What if the relationship that had developed and grown between Renee and I totally went down the toilet? It made the fact that I wasn’t leaving the hospital with this baby more set in stone.

“Will you be breast feeding her?’ I turned to Pam as the butterflies began to flutter again; this was another one of those pivotal moments. Pam directed her gaze toward me, silent in a moment that seemed to last forever. As the edges of her lips upturned a bit, a sly smile sneaking onto them, my thought process was interrupted. Did I miss something? I directed my eyes toward Kimberly for a clue who also, in that moment, had fixed her gaze on me. “Oh, me? Uh, no,” was my reply. Not very intelligent or well thought-out, very much caught off guard.

It was not the first time for me. People seem to have their opinions, and one has to learn how to navigate them constructively – especially in adoption. I recall the first time I had considered breastfeeding my children. I wanted the experience and desired to bond with them in this way. After careful research, I concluded this would be more of a self-serving endeavor; at that time, according to research, no nutrients would pass through artificially-created breast milk. So I had resolved that I could just as easily snuggle and bond through a bottle-feeding. Collected data does not provide much comfort, however, when someone is staring at you critically, waiting to insert their own carefully-constructed viewpoint. 

I did not think it wise to elaborate my thoughts right then; everyone would have their opinion, and I wanted to spare them my rather long diatribe. I reasoned that I could talk with Pam later about it and avoid third-party interjections. And so, in that moment of awkwardness, we moved onto the hospital visit. Both Pam and I wanted to look around the facility, get comfortable with the hospital lay-out, and prepare for Naomi’s birth.