As I mentioned before, all of us were new to this “open” adoption scenario. Ruth and I were both walking on eggshells trying not to say anything to offend each other and sometimes we didn't even know what to say or how to act. I know she was doing her best with the entire chaotic situation as she had the hardest decision to make.
Ruth and Camille (me) in 2001 meeting to celebrate Ruth's birthday
As I mentioned in my last post, I wasn’t mad at Ruth for taking Preston back (of course I was sad but both of us were sad). I knew that she had felt pressure from her family, her neighbors, and church members and probably even us to place the baby for adoption. When Ruth made the decision for Preston to be placed with us the second time, I felt like it was more of her decision and that she felt at peace with it this time. I cannot speak for her and how she felt, so I asked her if I could use her words in my blog.
Preston in 1998 (he picked this picture to put on the blog)
The following is a letter Ruth (my children’s birth mother) sent to me in 2001 after she came and had a visit with the boys:
“I am glad Bryan did okay with the visit. I would like to see the boys whenever it is good for you. After I met you, I knew those boys were for you. Right before I moved to Utah, I prayed about adoption for the boys because I knew that I couldn’t take care of them and give them a complete family that they needed to reach their full potential. So I prayed and fasted. No answer came as if it were the right thing to place them.
I had looked into LDS Social Services and read over papers with families’ stories and pictures. They looked like nice families but none of them felt right. Neighbors knew me, knew my story and that I wanted to place Cole and the unborn baby (Preston). So they introduced me to several couples, but none of them seemed right either. A week or two passed after starting my prayers and fast. I went to the refrigerator one day for something and the words “they don’t belong to you” came into my head.
Things were not going real well with me trying to take care of the boys, different little things happened, and my mom knew and was concerned. One day, she came out to Colorado from Vernal where she had already moved. She convinced me to go and we packed my stuff and I moved out there, which wasn’t very fun.
One day I was doing loads of laundry at my mom’s house, going back and forth to switch loads and then back to my house to check on “Mikey” (Cole) who was sleeping. It had gotten icy out on my porch. I went inside my house to get my keys and to make a very quick trip to the mail box when a thought came to me not to go back out the door down the icy stairs. I thought “if I throw salt on it, it will be okay,” but I was wrong, the table salt did nothing, boy was I dumb. I fell. I yelled and hoped my mom (who lived across the sidewalk) would hear me. She didn’t. A neighbor who was leaving her place saw me, went and got my mom and some other neighbors to help. They got me up because I couldn’t on my own. My mom took me to the hospital. My left ankle was x-rayed and declared broken. My brother and sister watched the boys while I was gone.
My mom watched the boys, and it was during that time that I met you and Mykel. I felt at peace with you, like I had known you before. My mom struggled with watching the boys. Watching her struggle and knowing that I couldn’t take care of them while I had a broken leg, I thought harder about adoption. I prayed one night and I said. “Heavenly Father, if these boys don’t belong to me, then who do they belong to?” That moment yours and Mykel’s face came into my mind and I knew they were for you and everything else made sense.
I told my mom and the next day she worked everything out with you. Having the boys leave was hard and in a sense there was peace of mind knowing that they were where they were supposed to be. I am glad that through Heavenly Father I was able to bless your and Mykel’s lives. Thank you for letting me see them and to know them.”