These are the words I received from a social worker at 4:56AM on Monday, June 20th. Just like with my own labors, I was immediately hit with a rush of adrenaline. I knew that whatever the outcome, we were about to enter into a whirlwind of activity and emotions. I got the kids ready for camp and arranged daycare for the day. Josiah and I quickly made our way to Western MA. We prayed and talked the whole drive up, not really certain what we were about to encounter. When we arrived, one of the birthmother's friends brought me into the labor room. I got to talk to her through a few pushes, and she excitedly told me that Autumn had lots of hair for all my bows. As I look back, I have been continually struck by how often the birthmother thought of others during her own difficult hospital stay. For the duration of the labor and delivery, Josiah and I spent time in the waiting room getting to know the birthmother's friends and family. This was a unique and unexpected experience for us, but it was nice to learn more about Autumn's extended family and about her mother (from the perspective of her friends). Once Autumn arrived, people took turns peeking in on her, but it got late in the day and Josiah and I had to leave, so we didn't actually get to hold Autumn on her first day of life. We are, however, so thrilled that we were able to be there during those moments. The next day, we spent the entire day in the hospital with Autumn, her birthmother, and a variety of her friends. In many ways, the birthmother and I co-mothered. It was a unique day, but a wonderful transitional period. We held Autumn, took pictures, and stared at her beautiful face. It was neat to see how loved she already was by such a diverse group. Josiah and I appreciated getting to know the birthmother and her boyfriend better, and it was so gracious of them to let us invade their space for the entire day. Many more friends filtered through and we filed each face away as a piece of Autumn's history.
The third day was by far the most eventful and heavy. I woke up at 5:00AM to beat the traffic, because Autumn's discharge was scheduled for noon. On this day, Josiah and I decided that for a variety of reasons he should stay home. Although this was a wise choice, when I left in the morning I was hit with a wave of fear. I literally felt like I was leaving home without half of my body. I was nervous that if the day got hard, or a difficult decision had to be made, that I wasn't going to be able to do it alone. I prayed things like, "God what if she's not bottle feeding well and they won't release her?", "What if the birthmother changed her mind?", "What if, what if, what if". I was also already fighting back tears as I drove up with my mom (who I asked to come with me). Adoption is beautiful, a miracle, a story of being chosen, and a story of love, BUT at the same time, every single adoption has loss. I knew that the third day marked the day that Autumn said goodbye to all that she knew to be familiar; each sound and scent that she had learned to find comfort in would change. I also knew that a young woman was about to part with the baby she just carried, cared for, and loved for the last nine months. Although this decision was made with wisdom and love, it didn't come without heartache. When we arrived at the hospital at 9am I was immediately aware of how well things were going. Autumn had bottle-fed well all night, she was going through enough diapers to be released, and the birthmother was still feeling confident. Immediately the nurses started interacting with me more. They loaded me up with formula and bonding advice. Some of them, who had gotten to know the birthmother during her pregnancy, talked about how happy they were for all of us. There was lots of paperwork and packing. The birthmother made handmade thank you cards for the nurses and midwives who had helped her, and I got to feed, change, and hold Autumn throughout the morning. There was a lot going on, but in many ways, time stood still for us. I had the chance to give the birthmother a letter from Josiah, a letter that promised her that he would always provide and protect Autumn. The birthmother said goodbye to Autumn with bravery and tears on her face. We hugged and cried together, as the role of mother was passed. I told her I loved her and could never thank her enough, and she did the same. At one point, I saw my mom praying over her and her boyfriend. All of this brings tears to my eyes even as I write this because the emotions in these moments were so strong and powerful. I kept thanking God as each moment passed, and things continued to go so smoothly. As time and circumstance allowed, I would text Josiah bits of important information. I knew he was feeling the heaviness just as strongly from home. The reality of how good God is was at the forefront of my mind the entire day. For so many months, adoption seemed impossible. It seemed like an unreachable finish line. After so many failed adoption attempts, I was weary and worn down, but during those moments with Autumn, it was as if God parted my own personal Red Sea and made everything fall into place in a way that could only be described as miraculous.
As noontime approached, Autumn's birthmother was discharged from the hospital. Since she was the hospital patient using the room, Autumn had to be brought to the nursery by a nurse where I could come find her in a few moments. Soon after the discharge, a nurse led me to where Autumn was so I could feed her before the long ride home. I picked her up and placed her in my lap. Suddenly I realized I was completely alone. There were no other babies in the nursery, no nurses in the nurses station, and not a single person in the hallway. For the first time ever, it was just my daughter and me. I looked down at her and gasped; through my own tears I said, "Autumn, I'm your mom". In an instant every single maternal instinct I've ever had for my boys rushed through me and Autumn was silently brought under that same umbrella. It was so clear that she was the baby that God thought of when he called us to adopt so long ago. She was chosen by Him to be Aberle baby #4. I quickly text Josiah that after a feeding and a little paperwork we would be on our way home. I know he had the same rush of emotion at home as God's perfect plan unfolded in front of our eyes.
Many of you know the rest of the story, because you have been a part of it. Josiah, the boys, and a few family members waited at home to greet us. We hugged and celebrated. So many of you joined in our joy as soon as possible. Autumn has been prayed for, thought of, and loved for three years by all of us and she was so very worth the wait.
I am so glad to have the details of these days down on paper so that Autumn can see the miracle of her life when she is older. I hope this will be a great encouragement to her and remind her how loved, prayed for, and cherished she is. I also hope that it can serve as a miracle story that we can all come back to, to remind us of how infinite and detailed God's plans are. Even when everything seems impossible, God is still working. In the future, our faith will be stretched and our times will get difficult, but the goodness of God will be there too, right beside us as we navigate through the triumphs and trials of life. So, at the end of this long road, this journey that so many of you did with us, let us be reminded that literally nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).