Quest for a child
Trouble conceiving sends one local couple on a journey
of tears, prayers and hope
BY JENNIFER VOGELSONG
Daily Record/Sunday News
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Paul
Kuehnel - YDR
Barbie and Tad Smith sing
a hymn together at
Christ Lutheran
Church in Manchester. The East
Manchester Township couple spent
years sitting in the back right corner of the church the
baby section in hopes theyd be blessed with a child of
their own.
Barbie Smith felt like she was in a coma. By February 2002,
she was pumping 200 times the hormones of a normal pregnant
woman into her body every day, hoping an embryo would
implant. She had spent years trying to have a baby and had
gone through four in-vitro fertilizations.
The hormones thickened her blood and left her exhausted,
sluggish. She risked a stroke or heart attack.
Barbie and her husband, Tad, lived with bags packed, ready
to head to Hershey Medical Center at a moments notice.
This fourth try at in-vitro would be their last.
Money for the $10,000 procedures was running out. So was
hope that theyd ever have a child of their own.
The East Manchester Township couple had dreamed of joining
the many newlyweds who start families right away. But as
years passed and children didnt come, they tried other ways
to become parents.
Their desire would take them on a quest, a seemingly
impossible journey of joy and anguish that would lead them
across the country, chasing their last hope for a child.
* * *
BARBIE AND TAD met in May 1996 at an alternative rock
festival near Washington, D.C.
She was a tall, gregarious blonde a 29-year-old graduate
student at George Mason University with a knack for dating
guys who were nothing but bad news.
He was a soft-spoken engineer working in West Manchester
Township and living with his grandmother in Camp Hill.
As Barbie approached 30, she made a pact with herself to be
at least friends with the next nice guy she met the kind
of guy who would make a good father. So when Tad and his
buddies settled in behind Barbie and her friends at the
music festival, she took notice.
The two started talking, and when they parted ways at the
end of the day, Barbie gave him her business card and a big
hug which was, on hindsight, really weird, she said.
Look in Tads address book under V (her maiden name was
Voekler). Theres Barbies name, with a note that she was
the nice young lady I met at the HFStival.
Bili
Bowden - YDR
Barbie Smith spots for her
husband, Tad, while he lifts weights at the York YMCA. The
Smiths say they are happy with their lives but feel
incomplete without a child.
A week or two later, he called to chat, and they began a
long-distance relationship.
Barbie knew within a few weeks that Tad would become her
husband. It was a calm realization that grew into certainty:
I could just sense it.
Although Tad was initially attracted to Barbie for her
looks, he fell in love as he learned her personality was
just as beautiful.
During their first dates, they found themselves talking
about all the things theyd like to do as parents someday.
They never discussed numbers of children, but both knew they
wanted a family.
On Christmas Eve, Tad proposed.
It was a private moment a simple question, an answer and a
ring.
On a warm late-summer day in September 1997, they exchanged
vows in front of a small group of family and friends.
It seemed they were on a path for a perfect life together.
* * *
THEY BOUGHTa three-bedroom, two-story house in a nice
neighborhood in the suburbs. Barbie quit her job as a
technology analyst for Rite Aid to build a business she
could run from home, making scented candles.
She planned to have the venture established before they had
their first child so she could be a stay-at-home mom while
she ran her business.
Barbie said her family didnt understand. They think I
wasted my MBA if Im just going to stay home with kids. But
I say Im gonna be the smartest mommy on the block.
She and Tad went church shopping, looking for a place where
Barbie, who was not raised religious, and Tad, a Lutheran,
would feel at home. The first place they went Christ
Lutheran Church, about a mile from their house was where
they stayed.
They wanted to start their family right away. At church,
they sat in the back corner with all the babies. Soon
enough, they figured, theyd have one of their own.
I was put here on this Earth to have children and raise a
family, Barbie said. To provide the world with decent,
nice human beings.
At first, they didnt know they were infertile.
But as a year, then two, then three went by with no baby,
their worries increased.
They visited fertility specialists who suspected blocked
fallopian tubes. In 2000, Barbie had two surgeries to
unblock the fallopian tubes and remove growths of water
pockets on her ovaries. Still, she couldnt get pregnant.
The following year, when both were 34, they thought about
trying in-vitro fertilization a pricey and sometimes
painful process with a 25 percent chance of giving them the
child they pined for.
Barbie worked long hours at her candle business and saved
every penny for the procedures. She read everything she
could find on the subject and talked it over with Tad.
In-vitro would be hard on her body, but she would endure it
if it meant even a chance to have a child of their own.
They were desperate.
A month of shots to stimulate her ovaries. Surgery to
harvest the eggs. Fertilization of the eggs and a few days
for them to grow. Then another surgery to implant the
embryos in Barbies uterus as many as three at a time.
Then more injections of hormones to support the pregnancy.
Shots in her legs and stomach four to eight times a day.
Once, twice, three times they went through the same thing.
Still, no baby.
They kept telling each other that in a few years, when they
finally had a child, theyd look back on all the struggles
and see how it was all worth it. But it was hard to remember
that as friends and neighbors gave birth to children and
planned family activities.
A woman at church suggested the pastor go to their house for
a fertility prayer. It sounded a little hokey at first, but
Barbie was game.
So one day in early 2002, Pastor Danny Kingsborough and Tad
sat in the middle of a bunch of women at the Smiths house
and prayed that the fourth in-vitro fertilization would
work.
The embryo implanted in Barbies uterus. Two weeks later,
her blood levels indicated a miscarriage.
That was it.
She was sick, money was running out and they were ready to
give up.
So, they got a dog.
Pets had always been part of the plan. Now that they
couldnt have the child they dreamed of, at least they could
have that.
In a weird sort of way, the sweet little mutt showed them
another way to create the family they longed for.
* * *
JESSIE WAS A RESCUE from the Humane Society and soon became
their baby.
Its kind of silly, Barbie said, but adopting the dog led
them to consider adopting a child.
We worried that we wouldnt love the child as much as if we
had given birth to the baby ourselves, she said. But were
crazy about our dog, and that helped us realize we could.
They soon discovered adoption was a sea of red tape,
background checks and interviews.
They revealed personal details about their marriage how
they handled finances, in-laws and physical intimacy. They
discussed parenting and discipline, how theyd instruct a
child in matters of faith.
Social workers invaded their home, and the couple offered
friends, neighbors and family members as references.
For two years, they plodded through the process.
They knew even once all the paperwork was complete, it could
be years until they got a child. Plus, each month, they
secretly hoped that by some miracle, theyd get pregnant.
They were happy with their lives, their marriage and their
careers, Barbie said.
But they wanted more.
They wanted the family life and everything that comes with
it community carnivals and late-night emergencies, squeals
of laughter and yells of sibling rivalry.
Tad longed to drag the box of his childhood toys from the
attic and build sandboxes and tree forts in the backyard.
Barbie ached to stay home and nurture their children.
* * *
BY 2004, they were both 37 and decided they couldnt wait
any longer. Theyd take matters into their own hands, find
their own baby.
That spring, through connections at Barbies sisters church
in Roanoke, Va., they talked with a young couple in Erie who
agreed to let them adopt their baby.
They were kids themselves, really. Pregnant with a little
boy, very scared, and with little commitment to each other.
The two couples talked on the phone and e-mailed back and
forth. The Smiths went to Erie for a week, and the birth
parents spent a week visiting the Smiths in York County.
All four grew close.
As soon as I met them for the first time, I knew it was
meant to be; that he was going to be ours, Barbie said.
She and Tad busied themselves buying baby items and
preparing a nursery for Aiden, as they decided to call their
son.
They cleared out the guest bedroom and painted it purple
with light blue accents. Barbie pored over books about
childrens brain development, learning what type of toys and
discipline were appropriate for each stage.
She told everyone at church that their prayers were finally
being answered.
The birth mother had even asked the Smiths to be there when
she delivered and agreed to call when it was time.
One midweek morning in July 2004, the phone rang.
On the other end of the line was the young fathers mother,
but she didnt sound like an overjoyed new grandma should.
* * *
Coming Monday in the York Daily Record: Barbie and Tad
cope with unexpected news.
Barbie
and Tad Smith pose for a picture in the park with their dig,
Jessie. The couple said they never considered adoption a
child until they adopted their dog because they weren't sure
they'd love an adopted child as much as a biological one.
Meet the Smiths
Names: Barbie and Tad
Ages: 38
Residence: East Manchester Township
Pets: Dog, Jessie; cats, Buttercup and Pumpkin.
Occupations: Tad is an engineer for OSRAM/Sylvania in
West Manchester Township. Barbie owns and operates Sweet
Scents, an online candle business, from her home.
Hobbies/interests: Tad enjoys hiking, biking, lifting
weights and hunting for Indian artifacts. Barbie enjoys
computers, reading and working at her candle business. Both
are active in their church, Christ Lutheran in Manchester.
<<<<<<<<<< END OF PART 1
>>>>>>>>>>
A desperate search
Devastated, couple turns to the Web for a child
Monday, October 17, 2005
When Barbie Smith picked up the phone that morning in July
2004, she couldn't wait to hear the joyful news the baby
she and her husband, Tad, had been waiting for was finally
ready to arrive.
A young couple in Erie had agreed to let the Smiths adopt
their baby boy and wanted them there for the delivery.
They would call when it was time, they said.
Barbie and Tad had been trying for years to start their
family. Unable to have a child of their own, they endured
four rounds of in-vitro fertilization and grew frustrated
with the adoption process. None of it led to a child, so
they decided to find one on their own.
Now, Aiden was almost theirs.
But the voice on the other end of the line didn't sound
quite right. It was the young father's mother and her voice
was cold and short almost unfriendly.
The baby had come overnight, she said.
And the birth mom just couldn't do it couldn't go through
with the adoption.
They were sorry so sorry, she said.
Barbie and Tad sat together and cried among the bags they
had packed for the trip to Erie.
Barbie curled up in her bed to weep. Tad went to the
shooting range to blast a couple hundred rounds.
Later, Barbie called their pastor and he came over to talk
and pray by their side.
They called Tad's mother, Connie Smith, to tell her the
news. Connie who had started collecting Disney videos to
watch with her grandchildren long before Tad ever married
cried along with them.
For Barbie and Tad, the rest of that day and the ones that
followed passed in a daze.
Barbie isolated herself to sort through her emotions.
Friends and family sent cards expressing their condolences.
They gave the couple gift certificates to go out to dinner
and have some quiet time together.
About a week later, the birth mother called.
Barbie picked up one phone and Tad, another. The young girl
kept apologizing and Tad, not knowing what else to say,
would tell her it was OK.
Each time he did, Barbie said, "No, it's not OK. It's still
extremely painful for us."
She needed the young mother to know how much she had hurt
them, how much she had really hurt them.
Still, on some level, Barbie could understand it when the
birth mom told her that once she held her baby, she couldn't
give him up. It was how it was supposed to be, Barbie said.
"It was God's will."
For the next month or two, Barbie secretly kept thinking the
newness would wear off and the young couple would call and
offer them the baby.
Finally, she convinced herself they weren't going to change
their minds.
"To me, it felt like I had had a baby and he had died," she
said. "I had been carrying him around in my heart as if he
had died."
Barbie Smith rescued this
kitten, Pumpkin, and nursed it back to health in the fall of
2004. She said the project gave her something to focus on
as she went through a deep depression.
* * *
BARBIE BLAMED HERSELF. Tad wondered if maybe it just
wasn't meant to be that maybe they weren't supposed to
have children.
"I thought maybe God knows something about us that we don't
know," Barbie said. "That maybe we wouldn't be good
parents."
That fall, Barbie's doctor prescribed antidepressants for
her.
The Smiths floundered along for a few months, slowly
healing, unsure where to turn next.
Then, the week between Christmas and New Year's, Barbie woke
up one day and knew exactly what she should do. She needed
to create a Web site to tell the world what great parents
she and Tad would be.
"I don't know how to explain it it was like a voice in my
head," she said.
She had seen Web sites for other couples wanting to adopt,
but until that day, it had never occurred to her that she
and Tad should make one for themselves. Now she was sure
this was the way to go.
Barbie
Smith, with help from her cat Buttercup, updates the Web
site she created to find a mother willing to let her and her
husband, Tad, adopt a baby. The couple spent years
unsuccessfully trying to have a child of their own.
She posted pictures of the two of them playing in the park,
lounging at home with their pets. A formal portrait and
casual snapshots anything to help a young mother make a
connection with them, feel like they would be good parents
for her baby.
The couple wrote about each other, and Barbie added sections
about their pets, their extended families, their
neighborhood, their church. She wrote paragraphs detailing
their values and parenting philosophy and explained why
they'd like to be part of an open adoption one in which
the baby knows and maintains a relationship with the birth
parents.
She detailed her struggles with depression and their initial
desire to have a biological child rather than pursue
adoption.
They posted their home address and cell phone numbers and
encouraged birth mothers to contact them.
It was a lot of personal information to put out there a
risk, for sure. But they had little to lose and everything
to gain.
All that week, Barbie worked furiously designing the Web
site. On New Year's Eve, she told Tad to go to their
pastor's annual party without her. She wanted no,
needed to keep working on the Web site.
As the clock counted down to 2005, Barbie felt like the
clock was ticking for them as well.
Just a couple of weeks later, she double clicked on a
message in her inbox:
Wed 1/19/2005 1:53 p.m.
"Hello My name is Jenelle. I am 22 years old and I am
20 weeks pregnant with my second child. A baby girl. ..."
* * *
Coming Tuesday in the York Daily Record: Meet
Jenelle.
Reach Jennifer Vogelsong at 771-2034 or
jvogelsong@ydr.com.
MEET THE WOULD-BE PARENTS
The following are excerpts from the Web site that Barbie
Smith created to advertise herself and her husband, Tad, as
adoptive parents and to find a birth mother willing to give
them her child.
"Much of our hearts is poured into these sentences. It is
our hope that through them you might feel a connection with
us, and want to have that connection with us for always
through an open adoption plan. We would be happy to share
visits, photos and letters with you as your child grows if
you like, so that we can share baby's 'firsts' with you."
"We have everything a set of future parents will need, from
strollers and car seats to infant rattles, clothes, diapers
and baby care items. ... We have lots of room for swings,
bouncy seats and toys in our living room, and our family
room is devoted to baby's future play room. We also have an
unfinished basement that Tad may take on as a future
project, it might be perfect additional play room space (Tad
is thinking Barbie doll house, or electric train set
space!)"
Tad on Barbie
"I admire a lot of things about her: her intelligence, her
beauty, her energy level, her ability to get into something
(like her business) and to really work hard at it, her
ability to be a good parent. She has great tenderness toward
the things/people she loves."
Barbie on Tad
"I chose my future husband both because I wanted to share my
life with him and for his qualities as a future father ...
Taddy is so sweet and gentle; he is a great complement to my
more outgoing nature. He has a quiet confidence that
attracted me, and it is wonderfully contagious."
Barbie on motherhood
"I do not just want a baby to dress up in cute clothes; I
want to be a mother! ... I want to stay up all night when my
child is not feeling well, I wish to be there to kiss the
'boo-boos,' I would like to be there on the first day of
school, and throughout the heartaches of adolescence."
Tad on fatherhood
"I have a sense of responsibility now that I am providing
not only for myself but also for a wife and family. ... In
me you will find a loving, affectionate and relaxed parent
who will relate well to your child and guide them with a
quietly firm yet loving hand."
On their parenting philosophy
"We are looking forward to making your child the focus of
our time and energy; you couldn't see bigger smiles than
when we talk about changing diapers, overnight feedings,
lullabies, kissing boo-boos and reading bedtime stories. ...
We are unified on what the most important parts of parenting
are: giving love and affection, offering support, giving a
good home, instilling a sense of the importance of friends
and family, teaching morals, helping to shape character and
instilling conscience."
<<<<<<<<<< END OF PART 2
>>>>>>>>>>
Hope in the inbox
Young mother makes a connection via e-mail
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Barbie Smith, left, Jenelle
Searcy, 2-year-old Oliviah and Jenelle's parents have dinner
together at a Louisiana restaurant during the months that
Barbie spent there earlier this year.
Barbie Smith read the message in her inbox:
Wed 1/19/2005 1:53 p.m.
"... I've known in my heart that I can't afford to take
on the responsibility of another child. ... I love this baby
so very much and my heart was breaking while I considered
giving her up until I read your story on your Web site.
For the first time, I was able to sleep at night and I felt
at peace with my decision. ... I need to know if you are
willing to adopt a bi-racial baby. ... please get back to me
asap!!! jenelle"
Jenelle, a pregnant 22-year-old from Louisiana, sent the
message to Barbie Smith after stumbling across a Web site
Smith created to sell herself and her husband, Tad, as
parents.
The East Manchester Township couple had spent several years
and thousands of dollars trying to have a baby of their own
or adopt.
They experimented with in-vitro fertilization, adoption
agencies. They even tried adopting on their own.
Each time, their hopes were crushed.
Finally, they decided to advertise themselves online and
search for a birth mother that way.
A few e-mails had already popped up in Barbie's inbox in the
two weeks the site had been up. Some were obviously scams.
Others were serious, but a bit strange.
Then Barbie read Jenelle's note.
Alone in her house, she jumped up and down and squealed.
She forwarded the e-mail to Tad at work and to her
mother-in-law, Connie.
She tried to calm down and think how to craft a reply.
Barbie didn't want to scare this young mother away, but she
also wanted to make sure she was for real.
She told Jenelle they didn't have money to give her, wanted
to make sure she hadn't used drugs or alcohol during the
pregnancy, wanted to find out if she really knew what it
meant to give up her baby for adoption.
She requested contact information for Jenelle and her
doctor, and a proof of pregnancy. Barbie knew adoption scams
litter the Internet like landmines.
Adoptive parents, she said, are so desperate for children,
they'll do anything.
* * *
BORN ON AN AIR FORCE BASE IN CALIFORNIA, Jenelle grew
up the youngest daughter of a military family and spent much
of her childhood moving around. When she was in seventh
grade, her family moved from England and settled in Bossier
City, La.
In high school, she ran track and cross country and dabbled
in cheerleading for a year. She did OK in classes but mainly
just wanted to have fun.
Unsure what to do with her life, Jenelle got a job at a pet
store after graduation and started dating a co-worker.
Four months into the relationship, they moved in together.
Jenelle said her parents were horribly disappointed and
didn't approve.
A month later, she got pregnant.
They planned to marry, but the relationship became abusive.
"He forced me to do things I didn't want to do and continued
to hit me," she later wrote in an e-mail to Barbie. "I
thought I'd lost (my daughter, Oliviah) already and I was so
depressed I just wanted him to kill me and get it over
with."
She was terrified. What would she do, alone with a baby and
parents who felt like she had failed them?
Eventually, Jenelle got the nerve to leave.
She spent two months at a Christian home for unwed mothers
and learned her ex had moved out of the state.
Jenelle's mother, Patrice Searcy, said she and her husband
forgave their daughter for going against their values and
asked her to return home once she had gone through
counseling.
Jenelle said her father, who barely talked to her at first,
melted the first time he held Oliviah.
He told her not to worry about getting a job for the first
six months after Oliviah's birth so she could focus on being
a mommy.
Jenelle enrolled in general education classes at the local
community college. She went back to work, first as a bank
teller, later as a secretary, taking classes when she could.
She alternated work and school and tried to pay for
Oliviah's day care and her courses.
Patrice Searcy said her daughter was trying to do too much.
* * *
JENELLE DECIDED she needed a break from the stress.
So, late last summer, she took a weeklong vacation in
Nebraska to visit a friend attending school at Lincoln
College. The two girls went to some parties together.
Jenelle said that at one of the gatherings she and several
other girls suspected something was slipped into their
drinks. They weren't sure what happened afterward.
When she got back to Louisiana, Jenelle got sick.
At first, she thought it was the flu. But she had felt
similarly ill when she first got pregnant with Oliviah, so
she suspected pregnancy.
She was beyond upset didn't know how to tell her parents,
didn't know how she'd care for another baby.
That fall, about a month into the pregnancy, Patrice and
David Searcy sat down with Jenelle and asked point-blank if
she was pregnant. She said no, but they didn't believe her.
Finally, she broke down and told them.
They agreed she'd have three months to move out.
By December, Jenelle was in and out of the hospital and
missing a lot of work. Her parents were caring for Oliviah,
and it was clear she couldn't move out.
Everyone knew from the start Jenelle wouldn't be able to
keep her second daughter, who she called Ava.
"I had promised Oliviah when I left her biological father
that I would do everything I could to give her what she
needed and be a good mom to her," she said. "I promised the
same thing to Ava. If I would have kept Ava, I would have
lied to both of my daughters and that would have been so
wrong, so selfish."
* * *
JENELLE STARTED SCANNING the Internet after the
holidays during lulls in her job at a doctor's office. She
looked at adoption agency Web sites, read birth mother
stories and adoptive parent profiles.
Now and then, she'd e-mail a couple to say she was just
looking around, but could they tell her a few things?
None felt quite right.
"My dad told me I couldn't just go around looking for a
feeling," she said. But Jenelle was holding out for the
perfect pair.
Then, one day, Jenelle typed "adoption" into the Google
search engine and ran across Barbie and Tad's Web site. She
read the whole thing in one sitting.
She was impressed by all the pictures and personal
information about their marriage, their families, their
neighborhood. That night, for the first time in weeks, she
was able to sleep.
Jenelle said she was attracted to the Smiths' honesty and
openness. It touched her how badly they wanted a child.
She liked that Barbie and Tad had a solid marriage, that
they were financially stable and strong in their faith. She
liked that they owned a house and didn't have any other
children.
"I wanted Ava to be someone's everything."
Everyone agreed Ava would become the Smiths' daughter.
But it wouldn't be easy.
* * *
AT THE BEGINNING OF MARCH, Jenelle 24 weeks
pregnant was admitted to the hospital.
She had had problems with extreme nausea and vomiting since
the start of the pregnancy and frequently found herself
dehydrated.
Several times, she started going into labor.
But this far along, premature labor was tougher to stop and
almost any movement might bring it on. The placenta could
separate from the uterus, cutting off the baby's oxygen
supply. If that happened, doctors would have minutes to get
the baby out before it suffocated or Jenelle hemorrhaged.
She needed to be on bedrest, with medical personnel nearby.
The night before she left for the hospital, Jenelle drew up
a birth plan and said she wanted the Smiths to be present,
if possible, when Ava was born.
Barbie said their lawyer, social worker and the adoption
agency she and Tad had been working with advised against the
trip. Why invest so much time, money and emotional energy in
a baby who might not become theirs?
Hadn't they learned their lesson with Aiden?
Still, Barbie wanted to go.
"I had to take that risk," she said. "If there was any
chance that she was going to be ours, I had to be there
during the time in her life when she most needed me.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."
Nearly four weeks after Jenelle was admitted to the hospital
for supervision, the warm water of a shower kicked her
contractions into full gear and she started bleeding badly.
Barbie and Tad were at home, battling bad cases of the flu,
when Jenelle's mother called to tell them she was on her way
to the hospital.
Baby Ava was ready to make her grand entrance at only 28
weeks just four weeks past the point where a premature
infant will likely die if taken from the womb.
Everyone knew that a baby this small, arriving this early,
was likely to have lots of health problems.
She might not develop correctly, might need regular
surgeries and blood transfusions.
If she survived at all.
* * *
Coming Wednesday in the York Daily Record: The Smiths
arrive in Louisiana.
Reach Jennifer Vogelsong at 771-2034 or
jvogelsong@ydr.com.
Jenelle Searcy was 22 years
old and 20 weeks pregnant with her second child when she
stumbled upon the Smiths' Web site. Searcy, a single mother
in Bossier City, La, knew she couldn't care for another
child on her own.
MEET JENELLE
Age:
23
Residence: Bossier City, La.
Family:
Parents, David and Patrice Searcy; sister, Erica Augustine
of Colorado; daughter, Oliviah,
2.
Occupation:
Waitress at Joe's Crab Shack; also works at a credit service
company. Takes classes at Louisiana State University in
Shreveport toward a bachelor's degree in
psychology.
Hobbies/interests:
Running, reading.
<<<<<<<<<< END OF PART 3
>>>>>>>>>>
A life in jeopardy
Couple's daughter arrives months early
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Barbie
Smith peeks at her adopted daughter, Ava. The Smiths drove
to
Louisiana
when Jenelle Searcy, Ava's birth mother, went into labor
prematurely.
Patrice Searcy prayed as she jumped in the car and drove to
Christus Schumpert Hospital near Shreveport, La.
She just got a call that her daughter, Jenelle, was giving
birth to a premature little girl whether she and her
doctors were ready or not.
Then came a second call doctors had to perform an
emergency Cesarean section to get the baby out before it
lost oxygen or Jenelle hemorrhaged.
Patrice prayed some more.
Already a single mother, Jenelle would give her second
daughter to a Pennsylvania couple she had never met if she
and the baby survived.
The couple, Barbie and Tad Smith, had done everything they
could think of to build a family. They couldn't conceive,
even with in-vitro fertilization. Adoption plans, when they
did take flight, always crashed.
Patrice called the Smiths, the baby's future parents, and
told them as calmly as she could that Jenelle was about to
deliver. She wanted them to know what was happening but
didn't want to scare them.
The Smiths were worried and excited. Sick with the flu, they
knew they couldn't be around a preemie, but they wanted to
be there with Jenelle and see their little girl as soon as
she was born.
They told Patrice to call them in a few hours and let them
know how things went. They needed time to collect their
thoughts, figure out what they should do.
Patrice walked into the delivery room just after 3 p.m. that
Saturday afternoon, March 26, and saw blood covering the
floor. Doctors worked quietly over a dark, blue baby.
She was worried that something was wrong with the child,
terrified her daughter might not be all right.
Then, the baby cried.
Patrice caught a glimpse of Jenelle on the other side of the
curtain and relaxed.
Doctors told her everything was OK.
* * *
TWO DAYS LATER, Barbie and Tad packed up their white
Dodge Grand Caravan and followed a blind faith 24 hours to
Louisiana.
Everyone said they shouldn't do it shouldn't invest so
much time, money and emotional energy in a baby who might
not be theirs.
The Smiths had been burned before. Last summer, a young
mother who agreed to give them her little boy decided at the
last minute to keep him. It nearly destroyed them.
No one wanted to see them go through that again, so they
advised the couple to stay put and see how things turned
out.
But they couldn't wait any longer to meet Jenelle and
comfort the tiny child who was to be theirs, hooked up to a
feeding tube and more than a half-dozen wires to monitor her
condition.
When they arrived, they found a helpless, 2-pound, 11-ounce
creature with a tiny body, long limbs and a head the size of
a tangerine curled up in an isolette in the neonatal
intensive care unit. She had no earlobes or nipples and her
skin was paper-thin.
A thick fuzz of preemie hair covered her body, and machines
pumped in oxygen and heat.
"She was cute," Barbie recalled. "But she didn't quite look
human."
Ava was so fragile they could only touch her at certain
times, and only by cupping her head and bottom to simulate
what she felt in the womb. Otherwise, the touch could
overstimulate her, causing her vital signs to go haywire.
After a couple of days, Tad flew back to York County and
Barbie settled into a hotel room to wait and hope her baby
girl to good health.
She brought her taxes to finish, paperwork for her business
and books to pass the time. But she didn't touch any of it.
She was too busy going to dinners at the Searcys' home,
visiting the pet store with Jenelle and Jenelle's young
daughter Oliviah, watching nurses and doctors fret over Ava.
Barbie posted updates on her Web site almost daily so family
and friends back home could follow the baby's progress.
* * *
AVA'S HEART would pause on occasion; her breathing
would cease and set off alarms. She struggled through tests
and an infection scare.
She grew a few grams at a time. Before long, nurses let
Barbie kangaroo her, swaddling Ava's naked little body
against her own to help regulate the baby's heartbeat and
breathing. That evening, Barbie wrote on her Web site, "Oh,
how I love this, this is what God made me for!"
Jenelle would stop by from time to time, but then the day
came when Ava responded to the sound of Barbie's voice
instead of Jenelle's.
Barbie felt almost guilty. "It was like, here I am taking
her baby."
For Jenelle, it was a picture of Barbie kangarooing Ava that
tugged at her heart the most. She found it in her inbox one
day with a short note from Barbie's mother, Connie Smith.
It was the first time Jenelle had seen her daughter's eyes
open.
She stared at the picture for a long time, a series of mixed
emotions coursing through her.
"I was a little sad there was a little bit of me that
wished that could be me," she said. But in the end, Jenelle
made peace with the reality.
Barbie delighted in changing Ava's tiny diaper and helping a
nurse take her blood pressure with a cuff the size of a
Band-Aid. She smiled when she saw her daughter's tiny
clothes mixed in the hamper with her own.
On her Web site, she wrote: "Thank you mama Jenelle for this
incredible gift. I am so attached to my baby girl, I tear up
when I think of her."
Breast milk from Jenelle and a milk bank in Austin, Texas,
provided Ava's nourishment first through a feeding tube,
then by bottle and finally through a tube that fed her milk
while she sucked at Barbie's breast.
The closer Barbie grew to the infant during the following
weeks and months, the more she worried what might happen
should Jenelle change her mind and decide to keep Ava after
all.
Jenelle and the Smiths had agreed not to sign adoption
papers until Ava was ready to leave the hospital so that
Medicaid would cover the half-million dollars in medical
bills. But that also meant Ava wasn't officially theirs.
During one phone conversation with Tad, Barbie told him that
if this adoption didn't work out, he'd have to check her
into the psychiatric unit of a hospital.
"I was joking, but I was dead serious, too," she said. "I
had given so much of myself by going down there."
* * *
AVA WAS SUCKING, swallowing and breathing on her own
by May 16. Her heart and lungs hadn't stopped for an entire
week. She could regulate her own body temperature. She was
eating by mouth and digesting properly.
Two days later, at 4 pounds, 10 ounces, doctors discharged
her to Jenelle.
Both mothers went straight from the hospital to an
attorney's office, where Jenelle signed away her parental
rights.
Tad flew to Louisiana, and he and Barbie spent the next week
filing paperwork that would allow them to leave the state
with Ava.
On the day of their departure, the Smiths along with
little Ava drove their jampacked minivan to Joe's Crab
Shack for lunch and asked Jenelle, who had just begun to
waitress there, if she'd serve their meal.
When they finished eating, they exchanged hugs, wiped away
tears and promised they'd be in touch.
And then they left.
Jenelle knew there was no other way. "Ava was meant to be
born and go live with them ..."
Barbie and Tad were taking their daughter home to
Pennsylvania.
Home to her pink-and-purple nursery, her two cats and puppy
dog.
Home to meet all the people who weren't sure she'd ever make
it.
* * *
Coming Thursday in the York Daily Record: Ava's
homecoming.
Reach Jennifer Vogelsong at 771-2034 or
jvogelsong@ydr.com.
ADOPTIVE BREASTFEEDING
Women who are mothering babies they have not given birth to
can breastfeed them by this method, which has been practiced
around the globe for centuries.
A baby suckling at the mother's breast, or regular use of a
breast pump, can stimulate lactation and possibly allow a
woman to produce breast milk for her little one. The amount
of breast milk that can be produced this way varies among
individuals, but many adoptive mothers value it as much for
its nurturing and bonding qualities as for its nutritional
benefits.
KANGAROO CARE
This practice, which was first implemented and studied with
premature babies in Colombia in the late 1970s and early
1980s, consists of placing a diaper-clad preemie in an
upright position on a parent's bare chest with a blanket
draped over the baby's back.
Studies have shown that kangarooing helps regulate preemies'
body temperature, heart rate and respiration. It has also
been linked to a reduction in crying, more rapid weight gain
and shorter hospital stays.
To learn more about kangarooing, go online at www.
kangaroomothercare.com or http://www.prematurity.org/baby/kangaroo.html.
LETTER FROM JENELLE TO AVA
"It is 12 p.m. and I am sitting here beside you in the NICU
at the hospital where you were born. Your eyes are open and
you are watching me as I write.
... You look so peaceful and all I want to do is kiss and
hold you and tell you to please grow!
Your mommy has already been up here this morning. I'm sure
you know that. I know you already love her. That's what I
want Ava girl. You love her completely. Learn her smell, her
hair, the sound of her voice. She will be the one to take
care of you, to comfort you, protect you, and love you, your
whole life."
LETTER FROM JENELLE TO
BARBIE
The following are excerpts from a letter Jenelle gave Barbie
on Mother's Day:
"You've been so wonderful these past six weeks allowing me
to spend time with Ava girl wanting me to be involved in
her life. That makes things so much easier. I will miss her
so very much and I imagine I will feel very empty inside at
first like I did when I had to leave the hospital after
she was born. But at the same time, having had this time to
know her to visit her, and to watch her grow has made
things so much better."
"... You love Ava with a mother's love that is something
so very special to me. ... Ava sees that love in your eyes
and hears it in your voice each time you speak to her. I
watched her look at you one day while you held her in your
arms she was so peaceful, so happy and I know she felt
like she was finally home. Thank you for giving my Ava girl
the life and care she deserves."
<<<<<<<<<< END OF PART 4
>>>>>>>>>>
A family, home, at last
The Smith's years of heartbreak and hope finally
paying off
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Laura
Lenhart holds 2-month-old Ava Smith for the first time while
honorary grandmother Shirley Lucabaugh gives Barbie Smith
a congratulatory hug. Lenhart and Lucabaugh were just two of
the many admirers and well-wishers who greeted Barbie and
Ava at the warehouse Barbie uses for her business after they
returned from Louisiana.
Connie Smith had given birth to only one baby a 9-pound,
10-ounce boy 38 years ago.
So the East Manchester Township woman was scared to handle
her 5-pound, 12-ounce premature granddaughter, fresh out of
the neonatal intensive-care unit.
Connie's son, Tad, and her daughter-in-law, Barbie, were
nearly back from a 24-hour drive from Louisiana. Barbie had
been gone nearly two months, waiting for her little girl to
grow strong enough to leave the hospital.
Years of tears, prayers, infertility struggles and the loss
of a child who was to be theirs had finally led the Smiths
to this day a homecoming with their adopted daughter, born
of a connection forged in cyberspace.
Connie called to see how close they were. She calculated how
long it would be until they arrived and kept one eye on the
clock, the other out the window.
Finally, she'd have a grandchild to watch her collection of
Disney videos with, spend her teacher's pension on, and
spoil and smother with love.
"When Tad handed her to me, she was a perfect fit," Connie
recalls. "I always felt that she and I were going to be
close, and I think we are."
Ever since, it's been tough to wrest Ava away from grandma
Connie.
Or the neighbor women.
Or the ladies at church.
Or the employees of Barbie's Web-based candle business.
The first weeks the Smiths were home, their house was a
revolving door of visitors and well-wishers. Everyone who
had stood behind them during the ups and downs wanted to
come and congratulate them, offer more help if they needed
it.
Barbie and Tad realized it wasn't just the two of them who
had adopted a baby.
* * *
PINK BALLOONSand a paper banner greeted Barbie as she
walked into the small warehouse on Board Road that holds
inventory for her online candle business.
Eight-and-a-half-by-11-inch photographs of Ava at different
stages of development, printed from Barbie's Web site,
plastered the sides of the 5-foot cubicle walls.
A woman at the company next door announced over the public
address system that "our baby Ava is here if anybody wants
to see her."
More women appeared, waiting their turn to hold and rock
Ava, fuss over her and ooh and ah at how tiny she was. They
snapped pictures with disposable cameras and gave Barbie
gifts. They marveled over Ava's itsy-bitsy fingers and
precious, heart-shaped nostrils.
From there, Barbie and Connie took Ava to Pediatric Health
Associates in Springettsbury Township for a check-up.
Connie beamed when the medical assistants announced Ava had
grown to 6 pounds, 4 ounces. She pulled out a small pocket
calendar and pen to note the milestone.
Barbie, a nervous new mother, asked about the baby's belly
button, whether it was healing well enough from the feeding
tube. She wanted to know what vaccines Ava needed, when she
could start taking her to a water babies class at the York
YMCA.
When the nurses came in with needles for some shots, Barbie
looked the other way until it was over.
Barbie comforts Ava after the
2-month-old infant gets vaccination shots during her second
pediatrician visit after arriving in York. Barbie said she
feels like her purpose in life is to raise and nurture
children.
Two short cries and a pacifier later, they were on their way
home.
The first Sunday the Smiths returned to church at Christ
Lutheran in Manchester, they barely saw their baby.
They hardly got through the door before Pastor Danny
Kingsborough predicted "she's not gonna touch Mom and Dad
very often."
Barbie passed Ava's carrier from one woman to the next, a
travel-sized bottle of Purell hand sanitizer tucked between
the baby's feet. "It's a very calm way of saying, 'Don't
touch my baby unless you're sterile,'" Kingsborough said
with a smile.
Tad stood to the side, beaming as he accepted
congratulations from members of the congregation. Barbie
buzzed from one person to the next, hugging and gushing and
chatting with everyone.
People marveled over Ava's big black baby mohawk and went on
and on about how tiny, how absolutely tiny she was.
Ava, overwhelmed by so much sensory stimulation, darted her
eyes back and forth. She yawned, looked away, pushed out a
few preemie grunts.
It was probably a little early to subject her to so many new
sights, sounds and smells. But the Smiths weren't about to
make members of their congregation wait any longer. Barbie
said, "They've been so behind us, they deserve to see her."
* * *
Barbie and Tad Smith kiss
their adopted daughter, Ava Caroline, during a water babies
class at the York YMCA. Barbie couldnt wait to get involved
in mommy-and-me activities with her first child.
TAD WAS A LITTLE CONCERNED about how "an old guy"
like him would handle a newborn, but most Sunday afternoons,
Ava naps on his chest.
When the family goes out, he takes charge of Ava's carrier.
Even when she's snugly tucked into a front pouch carrier
strapped around his arms and chest, he keeps his hand under
the bottom. He doesn't completely trust the contraption yet.
"I knew he'd be a good dad, but oh my gosh," Barbie said.
"He calls her 'precious' and he's so protective of her."
Barbie sings Ava to sleep with French and German lullabies
to expose her ear to the sounds of other languages in case
she'll ever want to learn them someday.
Together, she and her little daughter have made it through
intestinal problems and bouts of pinkeye. Barbie
breast-feeds Ava so she gets the bonding and nurturing that
a preemie desperately needs.
The Smiths' living room is packed with a baby swing, mobile,
blankets and "Boppy" infant support pillow. Small rolls of
freshly laundered baby clothes line the cushions of a couch,
and colorful toys dangle from the ceiling fan overhead.
Ava constantly wants to be held and Barbie, for the most
part, obliges. If she gets tired, grandma Connie takes over.
"This child is going to be spoiled rotten," Ava's birth
grandma, Patrice Searcy, predicts from her home in Bossier
City, La.
Even at night, Ava doesn't sleep in the pink-and-purple
nursery by herself. Instead, she snuggles between the firm
sides of a co-sleeper in the middle of Barbie and Tad's bed.
Ava's birth mother, Jenelle Searcy, said she now sees the
reason behind everything she has been through.
"More good came out of this than anything," she said.
"(Barbie and Tad) have the baby they've always wanted,
Barbie gets to be the mom she dreamed of being forever, and
my little girl has a family who loves her as much as I do."
* * *
LETTERS, E-MAILS, phone calls, pictures and visits
will form the backbone of the Smiths' relationship with
Jenelle.
Jenelle didn't want Ava to question whether she loved her or
why she gave her up for adoption.
"I didn't want to be the mom who goes to the supermarket and
wonders if one of the kids there is hers. I didn't want to
wonder what (my daughter) looked like and what she was
doing," she said.
Each of Ava's three parents have their own hopes and dreams
for her.
Tad would like to drive cross-country with her, like Connie
did with him. Barbie wants to take Ava and Tad to Europe to
visit Belgium, where she grew up.
And Jenelle?
Well, she wants the same for Ava that she does for her
2-year-old daughter, Oliviah:
