The World According to 'Nay..: July 2013

I have three beautiful, brilliant, adventurous daughters. I also have another that I haven’t seen since she was born, a daughter that I carried and bore from my body. She is my third born, my third daughter and who is still very much a part of my heart. She is someone of whom I may not speak of often, but she is always in my thoughts.

I have fought with myself on whether or not to contact her when she came of age, I was (and still am) hesitant to make contact as I do not want to step anyone's proverbial toes. I realize I relinquished all rights the day I left the hospital. At the same time, I am afraid that if I do not attempt some form of contact, that she may think that we do not care and do not wish to hear from her. And that is far from the truth, I know I am not her "mom", E** is. (Her parent's name, while I know what they are, I am masking for their privacy) I respect that and I am so very grateful to her. I would love for her to be able to meet her biological siblings - they all know about her. And if she doesn't want to meet us, then I respect that as well. I just want her to know her story and that our door is always open should she choose to take that step.

In the fall of 1994, I was 19 years old, married less then a year, with two young children, and found out I was pregnant with my third child. We wanted to provide a good life for our children, but finances were already stretched to the limit. We started to discuss adoption. I myself am adopted by my stepfather. We agreed to look into it further and then make a decision. We called several different agencies before we found one who would let us pick out the adoptive parents, and they would make sure that the adoptive parents would keep in contact throughout the first year.

Our case worker, Noelle, was sweet and caring. She brought with her several files of potential parents wishing to adopt. She went through what the process entailed and answered all of our questions. She said she would leave the files with us and pick them up later the following week. So over the next three or four days, together we read through them and afterwards, we would discuss what we liked about each one and what we did not. This was an important decision, as I was going to give these people my flesh and blood, a tiny little human that I had carried beneath my breast and already loved. They would be the ones who made sure that all her boo boo’s were kissed, holding her hand as she walked for the first time, seeing her first smile. I had to make sure that the parents we chose could provide that. I wanted to give her the best that life had to offer.

When Noelle called me that following Friday to see how I was doing, she said she had some more files for me to look at, I told her, “No, I have found them”. They were J*** and E** P. They happened to be the first file we actually read; they looked very similar to my husband and me, as far as coloring, height, weight, and ethnicity. In their file, it stated that E** herself, had given up a little boy, and she was unable to have any more children. I think when I read that, I knew in my heart that I wanted her to raise my child. She would know how I was feeling and be able to explain to the child later in life with honesty why I have given her up, which another woman who has not gone through this could. I also knew that if my child chose to ever find me, E** would hopefully remember the heartache and love that never goes away. Noelle asked if we would like to meet the couple, and at once I responded yes! I asked if I could bring the girls with me, so that J*** and E** could meet them as well. Noelle said that would be fine. So a few days later we gathered in a small office and I could see they were as nervous as we were and that helped me to calm my nerves. We began with the small talk of the weather and gradually progressed to the topic at hand. A few times E** made a remark that she was unsure of regarding J***'s employment, which the counselor would change the subject on. We were not supposed to know the last name nor place of employment of them. This would become welcomed information in the future. The meeting went well, and by the end I was really glad I had chose them. J*** was in the medical field and E** would be taking a leave of absence for 2 years or more to raise their child. I say their child, because at that time, I considered her to be theirs. She was no longer mine. I did make one requirement and that was to know what they would like as her name. I didn’t want this child to have an identity crisis later about who she was. I wanted her to have one name from the start. They said they wanted to name her Seneca Rose. I thought the name was beautiful, and different.

Seneca Rose came into this world as Seneca Rose Ellenburg, she only bore the Ellenburg last name for 8 hours. When I went into labor, Frank and I made our way to the Brandon Memorial hospital in record time. I was in labor for an hour and early on Monday, May 8, 1995 Seneca Rose came into this world weighing 7 pounds 11 ounces and a perfect blend of both Frank and me. As they cleaned her up, my heart was already a mirror that was shattering into a million pieces that could not be put back together. Once they cleaned me up and moved me to another room, I asked to see my daughter. I wanted to hold her and tell her just how much I loved her. I wanted to lay my eyes on hers and burn her image into my brain. She looked up at me with her little eyes and I felt my heart melt.

J*** and E** arrived shortly after; they said they had wanted to give me some time before they came. They brought me an African Violet in a small china tea cup & saucer, which I still to this day have. I asked them both to tell her we did love her and wanted the best for her. I remember them saying to me, “Thank you seems so inappropriate, you have no idea how much this means to us”. I could see that they were going to make a wonderful parents. I could see the joy in their hearts and their soul at that moment and I knew I had done the right thing. Because of me they would have a daughter to dote on, play tea party with, and enjoy. And although I know they were excited and happy and wanted to spend time with their daughter they knew that I needed to say goodbye. These wonderful people told me that they were going to go eat. They wanted me and Frank to spend some time with her. I don’t know if they will ever know how much that meant to me.

We spent as much time as we could with her, each taking turns holding her, caressing her downy strawberry blonde hair, trying to memorize every little feature on her face. When the time came to leave, I held her close and whispered how much I loved her and how sorry I was that I would not be there to see her first smile, her first steps, and her first day of school. But that I would always carry her in my heart. As I lay her down in the bassinet, I noticed a tiny bear from the gift shop; I picked it up and saw that my husband had bought it. On the tag was written to “Seneca Rose, we love you very much! Love your Mommy and Daddy.” It was my husband’s first and last gift to her, to show her we would not forget her. Tears flowed down my face as I carefully placed the bear back into the bassinet, I looked at my husband and said “Thank you”. Together we walked out of the nursery and out of the hospital mourning the loss of our daughter.

The next year went by quickly, we watched our children grow and eagerly awaited the mail for each month we received a letter handwritten from E** and at least one photograph of Seneca. It was a great joy to see how big she was getting, yet it was painful to know that we could not touch her, feed her, breathe in the fragrance of her hair or hear her babbling sounds. After the year was up, and there was no more correspondence, I went into a depression, I longed for another child to fill the house with more pitter patter of baby steps, longed for midnight feedings, and I wanted to feel whole again. I wanted to have my shattered heart put back together. By 1996 we had purchased our first home, I was trying to put on a happy face for my family but inside I was still trying to come to terms with the adoption. I didn’t know it, but my husband was going through it as well. In 1997 we bought our first computer, and along with that came the Internet.

In 1999 as Whitney, my youngest was entering Kindergarten I found out I was pregnant again. We had been trying for a year to have another child. Hannah Nicole was born in April 2000. As with the other three children she was healthy, adorable and perfect. She had blondish red hair, blue eyes, and a mischievous grin. She has been the apple of everyone’s eye in the family. Her sisters dote on her and spoil her rotten, although they do occasionally fight, I feel blessed to have them. As much as I love Hannah, she did not take Seneca’s place in my heart.

It has now been 18 years, 2 months and 8 days since I last held this precious child. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her and never a holiday that I don’t remember her. Every year on her birthday I make cupcakes and sing Happy Birthday and blow out the candle. What wish do I make for her? I wish for her to be a happy, healthy, well mannered young woman. And I wish for myself that I will have a chance to meet her someday before I die. I have discovered that even though you may give up a child for adoption, that doesn’t mean that they are erased from your heart. You still love and grieve for the loss of being able to see them grow up and watch them blossom into a beautiful flower. But Seneca will forever flourish and blossom in my heart and my arms always open for her.