All Things Written

All The Things I Want To Tell You

Category: Dear Jaxson

Bittersweet Goodbye (Journey to Adoption 3)

Growing up I wanted nothing more than to leave Texas, my home state, the same place I grew up for nearly my whole life. I held onto this fairytale notion that escaping the monotony of everything might set my soul free. I wanted to travel East, and this was our chance. I received my acceptance letter from The University of Pittsburgh, and your father, a recent college graduate, already had a job lined up in the area.

We left a few days after Christmas. I sat in the passenger side of the U-Haul observing my town slowly creep behind us. The parks and restaurants that once faded to the backdrop of my everyday life now stood out, my brain taking a mental picture of a place that suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

I hugged you tightly a few days before, not knowing when I’d see you again. It felt wrong somehow, but I couldn’t understand exactly why. We didn’t know what soon would follow. You were still in their custody at the time and a large part of us hoped it might work out, that they might muster the strength to pull it together eventually. And so, we left, in a U-Haul passing the most familiar place I’ve ever known and deeply missing you.

-Aubrey Cofield

The Journey to Adoption (2)

Twenty-one for me looked a lot like the rising silence before the gale and pour of a drawn out storm. In all honesty, at that time in my life, I didn’t want kids. I knew having kids meant I’d need to give up a large part of my adolescence; the part that only needed to worry about my own future.

But my plans would soon crumble, and crumble, and crumble some more until I accepted the inevitability of change, and the reshaping of plans that naturally follows.

One of my favorite memories with you takes me back to when you were about seven months old. Your father and I just got married a few months prior and lived in one of his mom’s (your Nanny) homes in Universal City, TX. A three-bedroom home in an established neighborhood. Your father was about to graduate college and also working his first big boy job from home. I was taking classes and working part-time as a teller at a local bank.

Nanny was too generous with us and didn’t charge us any rent. It was such a transitionary period in my life. It felt like nothing belonged to me, like so much future lie ahead, but no actual means to get somewhere. I had a lot of reasons to believe everything would work out for the best. I married a person who brings me up, loves, and supports me. But this was also a time when I witnessed your future being decided for you. There was just as much excitement as there was apprehension. Events were happening around you out of your control but negatively effecting your life, which inevitably, effected ours.

You should know, loving you was inevitable. I knew even then, the softness of your little soul. You rarely cried and smiled often at everyone. Your outgoing personality already taking shape. During that time, you were frequently dropped off with your father and I. Some weeks every morning. We’d wake up to your sweet face, an unexpected, but always welcomed surprise. That’s it, the memory I love the most, waking up to your chunky face smiling back at me. The day unexpectedly altered with the presence of your smile. Morning snuggles always proceeded bottle time, then we’d change your diaper, play, rock you for nap time, then play some more until we had to leave, until we figured out who’d take care of you next.

I remember distinctly, the moment my mind changed. The me that kept children at a far, far distant future. I remember telling your father something that changed the way we approached our life going forward. We were in the kitchen on a morning you didn’t come over. I missed you. I wanted to know where you were. My stomach dropped as the possibilities ran through my mind. I stared at your formula left from a few days prior and felt my fickle plans reshaping. I looked at your father and spoke, “I think I could be a Mom. Sometimes I feel God pulling me, maybe somewhere I’m needed? I don’t know, I’m scared, but I feel it so strongly and when I think of Jaxson…” he looked at me and with just as much hesitation said, “Yea, I feel the same way.”

Aubrey Cofield

The Journey to Adoption (1) – A Story in Snippets

We adopted Jaxson when he was three years old. Prior to adoption we were Aunt Aubrey and Uncle Jason. We’ve been a large part of Jaxson’s life since the moment he was brought into the world.

His section of the blog will slowly reveal our story of adoption. I’m aiming to convey the rawness of it all as best I can without writing anything disrespectful towards others involved. The overall goal is to create pieces I can eventually give him when he’s older. Pieces that’ll help him understand his early years. Pieces that he can hold when he feels disoriented and alone.

The truth is the whole experience was at times painful and confusing. It didn’t stay there though. I grew in areas I didn’t know needed attention. Through this you’ll find there’s a little boy, too amazing not to write about, whom I love more than myself. There’s a family quilted in a strength only adversary provides. And there’s a God, whose love continues to prevail through the darkness.

I’m also writing for those who may be going through something similar. May all the lessons we’ve learned grow you or, at the very least, provide you comfort.

Aubrey Cofield

Follow along with Jaxson’s adoption story here.

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