Andrew’s birth story: by Robin Baker, the ‘Birth Mom’
In 1996 I was 19 and renting a room out of my friend’s mother’s house while going to College in Orange County, CA. I was like many 19 year old college students –rebellious, unproductive, and irresponsible. This was not my normal character and had not been going on for long. Luckily it came to a screeching halt when I found out I was pregnant. I was unmarried and unable to care for even myself. Now that would seem like a major dilemma for most, but for me it was very cut and dry. Adoption was my only option. Period.
So I set out to find a home for my baby. This proved to be too much for my fragile emotional state, so I backed off for a bit. Making matters more difficult, no one was supporting me. Everyone suggested I have an abortion. I just could not even fathom it. One day, my Aunt called me and told me about her good friend, Kris. This lady had been trying to adopt for years and years and was unsuccessful. That’s it! She is the one! And just like that, I made the decision that Kris would be the adoptive mother of my baby. And from that point forth (it was very early in the pregnancy) it felt like a surrogate pregnancy. I felt as if the baby I was carrying was really hers, not mine, and I was just the vessel to bring it to her.
It seemed overnight my life changed from unproductive and irresponsible to the opposite. I resumed a very healthy lifestyle and did all the things a good pregnant girl should. I had regular prenatal care from a midwife at Kaiser Permanente. She loved me! She said I was her model perfect patient. Pregnancy was easy for me and I had zero complications. I loved feeling the baby move inside of me and was happy I could bless someone that was unable to birth their own babies. I worked as a bank teller and went to school full time, achieving almost straight A’s. Life was back on track and I was grateful. Sometimes it takes a major event to point you in the right direction, and boy was this major!
At the end of the 9 months, Kris and her mother flew to California from Pennsylvania to be present for the birth of *our* son. After all, we were both becoming mothers. She, the ‘adoptive mom’ and me, the ‘birth mom.’ They came out around my 38
th week. And waited. And waited. My professors were getting worried that I would give birth in class, but I assured them that ‘babies don’t just fall out.’ One professor was very impressed that I was the only one with perfect attendance in his class. Finals came and went and so did my ‘due date.’ My midwife seemed pleased with my progress and all was well. So we waited.
I read the 3 ring binder of information that Kaiser gave me about pregnancy and birth and attended their hospital class. That was about it. I had very little knowledge of birth choices and figured that when it was time, someone in the room (there were plenty!) would tell me what to do. The internet was pretty new back in 1996, and I didn’t have home access. I was so busy reading textbooks that it never occurred to me I should read books on birthing. *In hindsight, I wish I had.* I had no fear of the labor itself, but was very adamant that I must not have a C-Section. I recalled that my mother had natural, drug free births, and didn’t hear any horror stories. So I had nothing to fear.
My ‘estimated due date’ was May 31
st, 1997. I celebrated my 20
th birthday in February and looked forward to resuming my young adult college life after the birth. In my third trimester, a local rock radio station had it’s first annual pregnant bikini contest. Supported by my only friend over 21, my sister, I went down and participated as a joke. Well guess who WON? Me! We all got a kick out of it and I used the $1,000 to buy a camera. Finals were over so I left my little place in Orange County to stay with my Aunt in Vista, where Kris was also staying. We hung out and got to know eachother. We rubbed the belly and encouraged the baby to come out. I even tried jumping on the trampoline! Braxton hicks had been occurring since about 20 weeks, and I started to dilate around 37 weeks. By 40 weeks I was 3 cm dilated. We waited and waited. And rubbed the belly some more.

June 5
th (40 wks 5 days) I had an appointment with my doctor for a check up. She was working at the hospital that day so we traveled 45 minutes south to Kaiser Permanente Hospital, San Diego. They did a stress test and all was well. Actually, they told me I was in early labor! Yippee! I was admitted after we had a nice big lunch in the cafeteria and induced with pitocin around 3pm. I couldn’t get a hold of the baby’s father (this was before cell phones!) but had a lot of support from my friends. They all came immediately. In attendance were my girlfriends - Mary, Laura, and Christy (and Christy’s husband), my guy BFF- Brian Breen, my sister, my mother, and my deceased ex-boyfriend’s mother, Colleen. Kris and her mother were present off and on too. It was a big party. Everyone was so excited that the day had finally come. We were young and no one had really seen an actual birth before! I was in the bed hooked up to all the contraptions and everyone was chatting and having a good time in the room. At one point this really concerned my mother. She didn’t think there should be so many people present and got upset, leaving the room.
The contractions started around 6pm and labor moved rapidly as I sit in the bed talking and waiting. The nurses were very conscious of my young fragile state and really paid attention to my emotional state. They made sure to let me know that I could tell them if I was uncomfortable at any time with the adoptive mom and grandma in the room, or anyone else for that matter. It seemed like the nurses paid special attention to me, since this was a special circumstance that probably doesn’t happen very often. I felt very loved and cared for by everyone. Just a few hours later the contractions were strong and effective. The doctor broke my water and it really got going. I wasn’t in a lot of pain but they asked if I wanted an epidural. I kinda looked around the room and asked everyone’s opinion. The consensus was, “go for it, what if it gets really painful? Might as well get the epidural now!” So I agreed. Afterall, my sister was induced and had an epidural and everything “was fine.” She birthed twins vaginally!
The epidural is where this birth story goes awry. I was nearing transition when they placed it so it was very uncomfortable to get in the “mad cat” position for the needle. Then the doctor missed the epidural space and tapped my spinal fluid. He tried again. It seemed to work for a bit, but then I had only partial anesthesia. One side was numb and the other wasn’t. So the needle went in for a 3
rd attempt, and failed. I felt mostly everything and labor progressed quickly. The epidural caused my body to shake uncontrollably and my mother got very worried. She thought I was freezing and asked for warm blankets. I tried to assure her I was not cold at all, but she remained nervous and unhappy about the number of people in the room. Just 4 hours after contractions started I was feeling the urge to push. The men left the room and Kris and grandma stood quietly in the corner. My three girls were locked arm in arm, watching at the foot of the bed…crying. My sister had my right leg and Colleen had my left. My mom was nowhere to be found…she sadly missed the birth when she went down the hall to call my aunt.
Everyone got very vocal in counting and yelling at me, “push!” “One, two, three….ten! AGAIN! Push!” I was confident in my ability but was feeling like I couldn’t breathe from all the breath holding. It was amazing and I was trying to take it all in…my loved ones holding me and my friends watching and crying. The sensation of the baby moving down the birth canal. What a trip! I got so out of breath and hot I wanted to stop and breathe. The nurses knew the baby was coming so they tried to put towels on me – I immediately threw them off. “no no, I’m hot and I can’t breathe!” They all encouraged me to keep going and I yelled out, “I can’t, I can’t” because I just wanted to rest and breathe. I heard Brian yelling from outside the door, “Yes you can Robin, you can do it Robin, you can do it!” This really encouraged me and I tried again. Then came the ring of fire, a little tearing, and the head! The girls start really crying now. And my sister and Colleen were so happy and encouraging me. I was very surprised at how hard it was to push out the shoulders. From my limited knowledge of birthing, I thought once the head came out, it was easy. Not this time. I pushed a few hard times to finally get the shoulders out and then the baby came.

I did it! 5 hours of labor and 45 minutes of pushing brought Andrew Christopher Nealon to the world at 11:03pm. He weighed 7 lbs 12 oz and was 21 inches tall. I asked Kris to cut the cord and that really got everyone in tears. We were all amazed and in awe of the birth. The birth of a beautiful baby and the birth of two mothers. A birth mom and an adoptive mom. No one would ever forget this day.

When everything settled down and the visitors left, I was alone and trying to recover but I had a horrible headache. The doctors were waiting to see if my spinal cord would fix the hole, but it remained and so did my pain. Almost 3 days later, they drew a huge vial of blood from my arm and shot it into my back (4
th needle in the spine) to patch the leak. It worked and I was feeling better. I was finally able to hold the baby without pain and fed him a few times with a bottle. The nurses were again very sensitive to giving me time to bond and say good bye to Andrew. I stayed with him and watched the circumcision on the 2
nd day. My mom and I took lots of pictures with my fancy camera and black and white 35mm film. We gushed how handsome he was. When it was time for me to be discharged (finally on day 3!) they let Andrew go home with Kris (to my Aunt’s in Vista). My mom drove me home to her house in Escondido and I stayed there a few days recovering.

I finally got a hold of Joe, the birth dad, and he came down to visit for a day. We asked Kris to bring Andrew to my mom’s house for the day so Joe could see him and say good bye. I told him the entire birth story and we hung out holding and feeding him on the couch. Joe even fell asleep with the baby on his chest, and of course I took pictures. My milk came in and I showed off my big chest to all my friends who came to visit. We all laughed and couldn’t believe how big they got overnight. Friends who didn’t make it to the hospital to visit at my mom’s while Andrew was there for the day. My mom got emotional and suggested maybe we keep him and I move back to live with her. I was very set in my decision and stayed the course. When Kris came to pick up the baby she was also very emotional. I remember there being a lot of crying and even some loud voices of pleading. I didn’t understand why the adults were getting so worked up when I was the one who just gave birth! I was very matter of fact and reassured them that as soon as they calmed down, I would give the baby back to Kris and she could resume her role as the mother. It was an emotional good bye for everyone, but I never regretted my decision. I knew I could not care for the baby the same way an established married adult could and I felt confident I did the right thing for Andrew.

Papers were signed and they flew back to Pennsylvania. My back was so sore that I couldn’t stand up straight for about 2 weeks. I kept recalling the birth over and over and was a little traumatized from the memories of the drugs, shaking, my mom missing the birth, everyone yelling at me while counting, not being able to breathe from holding my breath, partial anesthesia, spinal headache, and then prolonged back pain. I thought, “the pain wasn’t unbearable from the contractions and I felt the entire labor! That epidural was the worst part and totally not worth the risks.” Over the years I would think about it from time to time and wondered what I might do different if I ever gave birth again.
We have an open adoption and keep in touch via email and letters. When they travel to California we have little family reunions. Andrew feels special when he comes here because he gets to celebrate having moms. Not one, but two. The more the merrier! I am open in sharing my story and encourage young teens and young adults who find themselves in the same situation, to consider adoption instead of abortion. She gave him a life I never could and for that I am grateful. I gave her a baby that she couldn’t birth, and for that she is grateful.

Legacy of an Adopted Child
By Anonymous
Once there were two women
Who never knew each other
One you do not remember
The other you call mother
Two different lives shaped
to make yours one
One became your guiding star
The other became your sun.
The first gave you Life and
The second taught you to live in it
The first gave you a need for love
And the second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality
The other gave you a name
One gave you the seed of talent
The other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions
The other calmed your fears
One saw your first sweet smile
The other dried your tears.
One gave you up,
It was all that she could do.
The other prayed for a child,
And God led her straight to you.
And now you ask me through your tears,
The age old question through the years;
Heredity or Environment, which are you a product of?
Neither my darling, neither
Just two different kinds of Love.