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Open Adoption for 9-Month-Old

Intravenous fluids kept Maggie* alive.

A ventilator supported her breathing.

ICU nurses constantly adjusted life-supporting measures for the new mother who went into septic shock after delivering her child.

The coma lasted several weeks.

Learning to walk took longer. Feeding herself was impossible.

Too weak to hold the infant, caring for him unmanageable.

Maggie hadn’t planned to parent the little boy.

Her pregnancy had been a surprise and didn’t result from a loving act.

She’d always planned to place the child in an open adoption with a family who would raise him in a rural setting. A family who wanted to fish and walk outdoors in a tight-knit community.

Complications at an early birth meant she missed the opportunity to make plans for the infant.

Nine months later, her health finally allowed her to make rational decisions.

Those rational decisions started with looking at families who were prepared to adopt.

“I saw their picture,” Maggie said, nodding at the potential adoptive parents across the room. “And I knew I wanted them to raise my little boy. I knew it was perfect. When I heard their voice over the phone, I was even more certain.”

The adoptive mother cried as she listened to Maggie.

“I wanted nothing more for him,” Maggie continued, “than for him to have a dad figure in his life. I was a tomboy. I wanted him.” Maggie motioned to her 9-month-old child playing on the floor with his new big brother. “I want him to get dirty, fish, drink out of the garden hose.”

The similarities between the adoptive family and Maggie are uncanny. Both adoptive and birth families have roots in the Midwest. Both have backgrounds in over-the-road trucking. Both families love fishing, woodworking, and swimming.”

“I swam with the pro-USA swimming in high school,” Maggie said, watching the 11-year-old, who had suddenly become a big brother, play with the toddler. “I hope he can learn to swim, hike, and shoot guns.”

“We have a pool pass,” the adoptive mother said, wiping another tear. “He’ll always know who he is and who you are.”

Maggie nodded and looked down at clenched hands. “I’m the type who likes to rip the band-aid off. It is going to hurt going home without him. But this is right. I know it. I like to believe that God is real. I couldn’t care for him. I can’t care for him.” She looked at the still-crying adoptive mother. “You guys are perfect for him.”

The new big brother looked up from playing on the floor and grinned.

“I wanted an adoption agency near me,” Maggie said. “I got exactly what I wanted.”
*Name changed.