(The Absence of) Sunshine & Roses

Well friends...it's been a long time since I've really written much here. Mostly that's because of how busy I've been but it's also because I tend to get stuck when I'm struggling. It's hard for me to push aside the old adage, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." Struggling may be too strong of a word for my state of being lately anyway. I know I'm not really struggling in the sense that some people are. There are many things in my life for which I am extremely grateful.

Still, my bloggy friend, Rachel kind of hit the nail on the head for me in her post (written a while back) called, "Life is Messy." Boy isn't it! And Rachel's point is her post is that we all try to pretend that our lives aren't messy but that in so doing, we neglect to tell our true stories, to show the nitty gritty reality of who we really are. I think she's absolutely right but I also think it's hard to let that messiness show. At least it is for me.

In any case, here's my attempt at telling the truth...at sharing my messiness with others so that maybe {?} they will learn something from my journey here.

So what is the truth...my truth? One place so start is that it's not all glory - I love my child but being a mommy is not all sunshine and roses. There are times when I really question myself as a mom, especially now that our son is a walking, talking toddler. I used to think I knew what I was doing with children...until I had a child! Now I just think parenting is a much harder job than you can ever really prepare yourself for. There are good days and bad days and there are many beautiful moments along the way but being a good mom (what is a good mom, anyway?} is hard work!

And...while being a "good mom" is one of the very most important things I do, it is only one of the things I do. Some days the stress of keeping it all together (even when I'm not keeping it all together) is simply overwhelming. Our house is often a mess, our dogs need more attention than they get, there is a garage full of clutter attached to our house, there are so many red blinking lights on my never-ending to-do list that sometimes the best I can do is to allow myself to take a nap. Now there you go, that's messy...but it is my truth.

Then there's money and our stress surrounding the current lack of it in our lives. This past year, having no more loan money for the completion of my education and no consistent income on my part. Well, it's been hard. There have been several times when I wasn't sure if we would make it through. But we always do make it, largely because my parents have helped us tremendously when it comes to making ends meet. But that's messy! I'm a 35 year old woman who is still in college and still relying on her parents to help meet expenses. As thankful as I am for their unending support, borrowing from them the way we've had to doesn't make me feel good. It makes me feel like a heel.

Speaking of that education I mentioned above...it is taking FOR.EVER! I know I only have a few more months to go until I graduate and I know that time will FLY by but I have been at my whits end with this chapter of my life for longer than I can even say. I don't regret making the decision to go back to school and become a teacher, I think that's a good fit for me. But I also didn't imagine it taking this long or being this expensive, this draining for us. We are tough and we are sticking it out but Michael and I have both been pretty extensively stressed this past year and it's largely due to the fact that I'm still in school and I don't contribute enough to our financial house. I am exhausted just thinking about all the hurdles we've had to overcome. It seems there's always something unexpected that crops up and throws a wrench in things. And messy? What about the job market out there? As much as I can't wait to graduate, I'm terrified to be a job hunter in this climate. There simply isn't much out there when it comes to the teaching field in my state, and we're not in a position to consider moving. It's really alarming to consider the what-ifs in case I can't find a job. I really can't even go there at this point.

Lastly (for this post anyway) there is my relentless and exhausting yearning for more. More what, you ask? Well...more children, of course. I know that with the current state of things in our household I really have no business even thinking about adding to our family at this point. I know that in my brain but try telling that to my heart. I've had several stern conversations with her and she just keeps right on with her unreasonable demands. And what is it with human desire? Why do we always want more than we have? A big part of me feels guilty for even longing for another child. For years I prayed and begged God that if he would only give me ONE child, I would be eternally happy. Plus, I know firsthand how hard it is to not have any children and be wanting them. From that position, it is almost unbearable to hear someone say they want another child, to hear someone complaining about that. And yet, here I am wanting more...talking about wanting more. The truth is though, that I can't deny that part of myself. I DO want more. I have always wanted kids (plural) and I want our son to be a brother. Honestly, right now, I'm just not sure where it all fits. My desires pitted against our reality. Unfortunately, reality wins hands down (for now) but that doesn't change how I really feel in my heart of hearts. It doesn't make all the announcements of "seconds" from the families of children who are exactly (or close to) our son's age any easier to read/hear. I'm not bitter in any way, I am very thankful for what we do have; however, there is a part of me that still does (and probably always will) resent the people out there who can just get a whim to have a baby one day and then they are pregnant the following weekend. Not that I'm even wanting pregnancy, don't misunderstand...but I do want to have a bigger family and it is not going to be an easy process by any stretch of the imagination.


 
            

A Letter from Christmas Past

Charlie's second Christmas is only a couple of days away.  Time has flown by so very fast lately, I'm left with the distinct sensation of a spinning frenzy of activity akin to a blizzard.  How is it possible, already, that this is my second Christmas as a mama?  I can still so acutely remember the sadness that came with the holidays for me, through the waiting years...through my time before Charlie.  But that is gone for me now.  Gone but not forgotten.  Never forgotten.  I've been thinking lately about what it all means.  Seeing the Christmas lights sparkle and reflect in our son's beautiful eyes really makes me think about the magic of Christmas.  For me it is and always has been about the children.  That's a big part of the reason why waiting, especially during the holidays, was so very difficult for me.  I wanted a child so badly so that I could see and relive that wonder and joy through his eyes.  Now that we have the child with whom to share the joy of this incredible time of year, I find myself reaching back into the past and remembering what it was like before he came along.  If I could have known then what I know now, what would I have said to myself?  What advice would I have given?  What would I have done differently?

 
I guess part of my reflective state is due to the face that my baby sister is currently in the beginning stages of her own journey through infertility.  I wish it wasn't the case.  I wish pregnancy would come easily for her and that I didn't have to see her struggle.  But I'm also glad we have each other and...at the risk of sounding narcissistic...I'm glad she has me.  Those of us who have navigated the waters know that they can be very cold and lonely at times.  I hope I will be able to lessen her burden a bit, simply because I've been there and I remember.

So what would I have said to myself back then, if I could've had a glimpse into this future...if I could've known what I know now?

.....................................................

Dear Melba,

Smile!  Put on your coat of Christmas cheer for the world to see!  Your time will come, you will be a mom!

Right now, close your eyes, take a deep breath and experience this moment.  Relax.  Just breathe.  If you are sad, it's OK.  Feel sad...it will help you to pave the way for all the love that's going to pour forth from your heart the first time you hold your sweet son and kiss his tiny baby cheeks.  You will love him more than you can even possibly imagine right now.  He will color your world in ways you never thought possible.  He will bring joy back to you and multiply it by 1,000.  You have no idea what being a mom will be like.  It's not something you can know before it happens to you.  I will tell you that it's not as easy as you think it is right now.  It is rewarding and beautiful in many ways but it is also challenging and overwhelming in many ways.  You will be a good mom but you will also make a lot of mistakes and you will often wonder if you're doing things right.  You will question yourself more than you think you will and you will worry about that boy, despite your best efforts at putting that aside.  So...be sad and feel the pain as it is needed now, it must serve some purpose for you.  But also try to stay awake and alive to NOW.  Try to remember that for better or worse, every day does count.  Who you are today does matter tomorrow.  Give your husband a hug and tell him how much he means to you.  Tell him how much you cherish the time you have together.  Embrace that and hold it close.  Your baby will change your marriage.  In many ways he will strengthen it but he will also bring new challenges and new expenses that will require some adjustment for both you and Michael.  He will make you stretch and expand, in ways both pleasant and problematic. 

What I really want you to know...to understand...is that you have to be alive NOW.  One day in the not-so-distant future, you will look back on these times and you will wonder why you spent so much of your time feeling sad.  You will never forget how hard infertility and the waiting part of the adoption process were but you will wonder why you let those things encompass so much of your being.  So again I say to you, Melba...smile!  Tuck the sadness away and use it when you need it but don't let it overpower you.  You have to struggle some now so that you will appreciate more later but you have my permission to feel hopeful, alive and happy right now, too!

Sincerely,

Your not-so-distant future self...      

 
            

Three Minutes

How long is this going to take?  How old will our son be before he sleeps through the night comfortably?  I've hesitated in writing this post for a long time because, quite honestly, I don't want or need the judgment of any other moms about this topic.  I'm already stressed enough without hearing the opinions of everyone else on what I should be doing or how I should do things differently.

We've been struggling with sleep, off and on, pretty much from eight (or so) months forward.  As soon as we tried to start getting C. to go to sleep on his own, it became a problem.  It hasn't been a problem throughout every stage and we have had some successful periods with him sleeping through the night for enough nights that I think we've finally broken through.  Then something changes (illness, schedule change, etc.) and the struggle starts again.  I am fully aware that we have played into this problem in some ways.  The simple truth is that neither one of us is good at letting our baby cry.  There are many factors that go into this.  First is the fact that we waited so long for him.  We've already spent enough nights with empty arms and sad hearts.  Listening to our little one cry while we sit in another room, miserable at the sound of his angst, is not something either of us has ever dealt with well.  Couple that with the fact that our little boy, with very few exceptions, is always happy and you can see why it's been a challenge.  When he does get upset, he's dramatic.  He gets huge crocodile tears that melt your heart and make you want to do anything to make them stop.  He knows how to push our buttons well and push them he does.  None of that is to say though, that we haven't done some things "by the book," so to speak.  We've always had a simple bedtime routine and we've tried to stay consistent with things like how long we are willing to let him cry, what we say when we go in to comfort him and so on.  Some might think of us as coddlers but the bottom line for me has always been that I want to parent from an attachment standpoint.  From an adoption perspective, attachment is critical.  From the moment I laid eyes on our tiny baby, I knew that if there was one thing I didn't want to mess up, that was it.  To that end, we have been highly successful; however, C's sleeping habits have been another matter.

None of this is new to me.  I "helped" all of the parents of former children I cared for get their babies to sleep by telling them to let the babies CIO, within reason.  Now I'm wondering if I didn't make things harder for them.  Knowing what I know now about being a mom, I can't help but wonder if I should have just kept my mouth shut back then.  I don't think our efforts with C. have been an utter failure.  He does sleep, he just wants someone to be there with him.  Somewhere along the way, my emotional connection to him got the better of my rational reasoning about how to sleep train a baby.  One thing I've learned is that the very act of being the parent of another human being is rather irrational at times.        

All that said, and with all the ups and downs of this whole process, things have gotten much worse in the past week or so.  I think lots of things are going on.  I think C. is entering a new stage of cognitive development in which he is more aware of our interactions and he's testing his limits, testing us to see what happens when...  I also think he may be teething and/or growing, which can both cause disruptions in sleep patterns.  Add to all that the fact that he will be starting daycare in a couple of weeks, (and you all know how I feel about that) which has made me want to work that much harder to get him to sleep peacefully on his own.  Whew!  Well, it's not that hard to see why the whole thing has gone "tits up" to coin a lovely phrase my husband likes to use when things are really a mess.      

So that brings us to tonight.  I am on the verge of tears as I type this right now.  I just let our son cry himself to sleep for 57 minutes.  You read that right, three minutes short of AN HOUR.  Now I'm thinking, "What have I done?"  I'm a horrible mother...he's going to be scarred for life...on and on.  My rational mind knows he will be fine.  It knows that even if my decisions tonight were a big, fat mistake (which they quite possibly were) he will survive.  What was that thing about motherhood being irrational again?  Well...you get the point.  He did cry himself to sleep.  He did eventually give up.  The interminable question though, is should I have let him?  I honestly just couldn't do it anymore tonight.  The past couple of weeks, particularly the past three days or so have been exhausting.  Last night I was up until 1:00 with him and then by 4:45 he was in our bed.  He hasn't been napping well either, sleeping in 20-40 minute spurts.  So on one hand, we have an exhausted baby who is clearly not his typical, happy self, coupled with a mama who just needs a break and on the other hand we have a baby who has to scream for nearly an hour before finally falling asleep.  Do you see why this is so hard for me?  Why it seems that either way I go is wrong?  I don't want to coddle him to the point that he thinks he can manipulate us and that he won't nap at daycare...but I'm also not at all happy with letting him cry for that long.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to do that again, unless I go outside or something.

I guess the decision of where to go from here will have to be based on what happens next.  Will he make it through the night because he cried himself to sleep, or will it not really matter?  Will he wake up happy and refreshed, or will the screaming resume the second he opens his eyes?  After reading this article and post on Ashely's blog the other day, this has been on my mind a lot. In any case, it's neither here nor there.  I did what I thought was best tonight, and now I'm second guessing myself like crazy.  There en lies part of the problem.  I need to make up my mind on how we're gong to handle the current problems we're having, then we need to be firm and consistent until this phase passes.  I know that in my rational mind but well...what was that thing about motherhood being irrational?

My final thoughts on this are that every child is unique, and as such, they each have unique needs.  Child and parent relationships are unique too, which certainly factors into the equation.  I think I used to think, before becoming a mom, that this wasn't that difficult.  That if you did basically the same thing with any kid, sleeping would become a non-issue.  Only now can I see how wrong I was.  How hard this is from the parenting perspective.  Knowing C. as I do, I realize he is an exceptionally people-oriented child.  He is always in tune to people and what they are doing, saying, etc.  He is a social butterfly.  I honestly think, on a primal level, he doesn't want to be alone.  Therefore, I think that for him, sleeping through the night is harder than it might be for some other children.  Perhaps that's just me justifying the situation in which we now find ourselves, I don't know.  The bottom line though, is that I do know my son better than anyone else out there and I know what does and doesn't work for him...for us.  Now I just have to pair that with my knowledge of child development and my prior experiences and we should be able to solve this problem yet.  There...maybe a little positive energy will go a long way.  I certainly hope so because I am pooped!

Quality vs. Quantity

Today was one of those days...you know the kind.  Running all over the place but not really accomplishing much at all.  I had a lot of school stuff to do and a standing social obligation that I didn't want to pass up.  Hence, I had very little time with the boy today.

Still, when we were together, we were cuddling and laughing and happy.  Certainly that counts for something, right?  I hope it counts for a lot because come the fall, when I start my full-time student teaching stint, that's the way things are going to be for us, most of the time.

I'm literally split right down the middle about the major changes that are headed our way in a little over a month.  One part of me is excited in a great anticipation sort of way and one part of me is terrified in an, "I don't know if I can do this" sort of way.  On top of my own anticipation/fear came the news that we will need to find new child care arrangements for C.  This development was not terribly surprising but still makes me feel sad.  We had a great arrangement going last year and I'm sad to see it go.  On the other hand, C. is getting to the age where it will be very beneficial for him to be around other kids and to have a little more structure to his days.  Yet again, I feel split right down the middle:  One part sad and one part excited to see what the next chapter holds.

I know it will all be fine.  I know plenty of people work full time (plus!) and still manage to maintain a great relationship/bond with their children.  I know many of you do it.  My sister does it.  I also know plenty of people who greatly enjoy their work away from home because they feel truly connected when they come back, rejuvenated rather than burned out.  Besides, it's not like I've been home full time forever.  I've had the blessing of two beautiful, languid summers with C. but I've also been pretty consistently busy with school since he was four months old.  I guess what I'm most worried about/scared of is the loss of my flexibility.  School allows for that...not only in terms of scheduling but in case anything unexpected comes up out of the blue.  While I do place attendance high on my list of priorities, I don't have to go to school if I don't want to.  With student teaching, I will put my very best professional foot forward and work...probably harder than I ever have before {not that I don't work hard now or haven't in the past} and it will all be for no pay.  That's an exhausting prospect no matter how you slice it.  At the same time, I can't wait to experience the whole picture of life in the classroom as someone other than the substitute teacher for the day...to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, so to speak, and get my feet wet for what my future career will really be like.

Ahhhh...I'm just so mixed, so all over the place about how I really feel.  And the time is flying by, fast!  Today was a glimpse into how I'm going to feel every day come the fall and it was bittersweet for me, in a big way!        

Kissing the Curls Goodbye!

Today was a big day for our little boy. He had his very first hair cut! I think this is what he wants to say about the experience:

Lord have mercy, that picture makes me want to start crying all over again...he surely does know how to push my buttons! But, although he wasn't a happy camper, he did survive and manage to recover his composure pretty quickly, not to mention the fact that he looks absolutely adorable (and oh so much older) post-hair cut!

To be honest, the whole experience was overwhelming for me...and I think for all of us. I had it in my mind that we needed to go to an official barber shop, someone who knew what they were doing when it comes to caring for and handling African-American hair. Problem was, we didn't have an appointment and it was harder than you might imagine to find someone who was willing to take a walk-in for a baby. The place we finally did locate was the fourth place we stopped. I'm glad they were willing to do the job because otherwise I would've given up at that point.

Here's the little guy, as happy as can be...blowing raspberries while we waited our turn.

And here's the obligatory "after" shot, once he had calmed down a bit. Where has my little baby gone??

They did a great job and I would definitely go back BUT...we had to wait for almost two hours for our turn! Yes, TWO HOURS sitting there in uncomfortable chairs, trying to keep our toddler occupied and at the same time well-behaved. If I had known it would be that long we would have changed plans but the time kept ticking by little by little. I didn't really want to leave and lose our place in line but man...my patience was worn pretty thin by the time all was said and done. Also, holding Charlie while he cried and tried desperately to release himself from my grasp was not a pleasant experience. Even though the actual cut didn't take that long, it was exhausting. I had intentions of keeping his hair a little longer than it is but because his curls were so thick, the clippers kept getting stuck. At the barber's suggestion, we decided to clip it all off. Although I do miss the curls and would have preferred to leave some hair, I couldn't bear putting him through any further misery. I guess the great thing about hair is that it grows back, right?! I'm glad that experience is behind us...I hope the next time (when he's a bit older and we're better prepared) will go more smoothly.

It's My Moms'

This afternoon in class, someone leaned over to me and said, "You have amazing handwriting." It was an unexpectedly kind comment and without even missing a beat I replied, "Oh thanks, it's my moms'."

Then I looked down at my paper and realized that Charlie will never be able to look at his handwriting and automatically know where it came from. He will never be able to look at any part of himself and know, without a doubt, that it came from his first mom, or from any other biological family member for that matter.

An incredible wave of sadness washed over me.

Of course I know that I am his mom...and I will certainly pass my beliefs, habits, sayings, etc. down to him through nurture but there will be another part of him that will come from nature alone and we will never know the origins of that. What a loss.

I don't talk about {the absence of} his birth mother very much because honestly, it's a little too much for me to tackle sometimes. I think it's one aspect of our story that I'm going to have to digest in small pieces, as we go. I guess my realization today was one of those small pieces.

I'm okay really. The sadness didn't linger, it was more of an observation (a dawning really,) of some of the missing pieces and questions that will be an inevitable part of our future as Charlie grows. It does make me sad but because of my own nature, I go back to the fundamental belief that it is what it is and there must some reason for that, even if I can't completely understand from where I currently stand.

365 Days Later, Part Two

So where was I on this day in history, the day our child was born? To be honest, I wasn't having a very good day. In fact, I was pretty much hitting the rock bottom of our wait. Those of you who were there probably remember that April was a hard month for me last year, right up until the very end. In early April, I discussed my exasperation in this post. Then there was the "close call" we had with the premature baby girl that pretty much sent me on a downward spiral.

If only someone could have told me our time was literally only days away...I wouldn't have wasted so much energy being upset.

In fact, I had gone to the doctor on April 28, to get our paperwork updated and signed yet again, thinking I was going to have to go through the process of updating our home study again. The conversation with the doctor had been very rough, I was struggling. I remember telling her how sad I was and feeling that she sort of wrote me off. I actually cried that day, all the way home on the 45 minute drive. I was just so exhausted and so depleted. I remember thinking that I wasn't sure we were supposed to keep going...feeling that maybe we should just throw in the towel.

If only someone could have told me our time was literally only days away...I wouldn't have wasted so much energy being upset.

Thinking about that now, I am amazed. To think that I sobbed and felt sorry for myself all the way home, as there was a woman only an hour away, giving birth to a baby and going through what must have been a tremendous amount of both physical and emotional pain. Well...I just wish I could have known. Not only do I wish I could have been there on the first day of our son's life but I also wish I could have known her. To maybe, on some small level, have been able to give her some sort of comfort and peace that her son would be loved. Yes, I wish I could have been there and I wish I could have known.

Still, I believe that Charlie's story is what it is for a reason. I am so very grateful for our son and for his birth mother. The day of his birth...the day that was the beginning of the greatest experience of our whole lives will forever be a day that is close to my heart, and not just because it's our son's birthday.

Joy and Sorrow

Wow, what a week it's been in blogland! This adoption stuff can be one heck of a crazy roller coaster at times. Tonight I'm feeling a little melancholy. I've been absolutely elated for E, with the wonderful news of her recent match, and that great news came on the heels of good news for RB too.

But then, as is always a risk with this journey, RB got the news we all dread: a failed match. And worse yet, this is the second time they have had to go through this turmoil. Somehow that just doesn't seem fair to me. I just feel so heavy and sad for her, and I can't even imagine the magnitude of her pain.

Then there's Kel, who is waiting for news right now, and who waits so patiently in general. She has had a rather tumultuous few weeks with lots of adoption drama going on, and my heart goes out to her. Ashley also wrote a beautiful post about the journey she has been through this past year, going from thinking she was going to lose her son to the realization that he was going to be placed with them after all. What a beautiful story and heartwarming post!

Then there are also recent posts from Sarah and Jessie, both of whom are dealing with the loss of their mothers, amongst many other challenges. Both of these women seem incredibly strong to me, and they remind me that every day is special, and that bitching about the insignificant stuff in life is truly a waste of time and energy.

I guess tonight I'm just feeling unsettled. There has been tremendous joy and sorrow all in this one week, and it's left me feeling really emotional. I'm definitely counting my blessings, and saying a lot of prayers (both of thanks, and for healing) for all of you out there. Honestly when I started blogging, it was for me. Well...for me, and for my family so they could follow our journey. Now it's so much more than that. I still tell our story, and I blog for Charlie now too...but I LOVE the connections that have happened here. I feel as though I know so many of you on a truly personal level, and that is pretty cool considering the distances that lie between us.

Clouds

Lately there have been some heavier topics on my mind...clouds entering my perpetual state of happiness if you will. I've been thinking a lot about Charlie's story, and how we will frame it (especially the sad parts) for him so that it's not too painful. Obviously the truth will always be at the center of everything we tell him, but I so want to protect him from the negatives...and mostly from the negative perceptions of people who don't know us.

I read an article a while back about positive adoption language. It was written by an adoptive mom who meant well, but some of the comments that were left for her were harsh. Quite frankly, they were hard to read, but they also really got me thinking. I can totally see some of the points made in the responses. I can understand how telling a child his first mother "made an adoption plan" for him because she loved him would leave him with some confusion about love. Young children take everything literally, so I get what some of these adoptees were trying to say. Although, I don't necessarily agree that to frame a child's story in a positive light is to sugar coat it in a way that is inappropriate. After reading some of these comments, I am left feeling sad, and wondering, "What is the right thing to say?" As Charlie's mommy, how do I explain it properly?

The sad fact is that pain and loss are central to every adoption story, but is it wrong for us adoptive parents to want to handle our children gently where their adoption stories are concerned? The reailty of some of the comments is that they don't consider the alternative...and they certainly don't offer a "better" solution to the language/terminology/viewpoint they are naysaying. The point is, this just has me thinking a lot about what we will tell him when he's old enough to understand. I really don't know the answer to that. Right now we tell him parts of his story all the time, and I talk to him about adoption almost every day...but right now I'm just talking, practicing for the future I guess. Right now it doesn't matter the way it will someday, when he can understand.

Then there is the age-old balancing act of being a mom with the rest of life. School starts again soon and I'm nervous. Nervous about being away from my baby for two [very] long days every week. I realize it could be worse, but I'm not going to see him at all two days a week and I'm really not sure I'm OK with that fact. I'm also nervous about being able to study and continue to be the kind of student I've been for the last several years. I would love it if I could simply be with him for this first year, but in the long run that isn't really what I want either. The thought of putting school on hold, even for a year, gives me an entirely different kind of stomach ache. And all this begs the question, "In fulfilling my dream of motherhood, have I lost myself?" The answer to that question is inevitably yes...or at least I have lost some former parts of myself.

But is that bad? Is it not appropriate that some of the old me should be cast away as I make room for a new little person? I have always been a very involved, very active person with a lot of hobbies and interests. People talk about being bored, but I rarely have times when I can't find something to do that interests me. And now...well, I'm finding that things like gardening, and writing in my paper journals, and keeping up with my other blog, and taking non-baby photographs...they are falling by the wayside. And yet, at the end of the day I feel satisfied that my time that day was well spent. I will never reach a point where I look at my child and wonder if I spent enough time with him, or held him enough, because the answer to that will always be yes. To me, that is as it should be, but what about having a sense of self outside of being a mom? Certainly there is value added to the child by having a mom who is self-interested and self-involved to an extent. I think the key here (as with most things in life) is balance...but how do you strike a healthy balance, and how do you know that it is healthy, as opposed to having the scale tipped too much in one direction or the other?

Then there are my thoughts about racism and how to handle that as Charlie gets older. We are fortunate in that we are in a very diverse area where there are many "different" families and resources available to us, but there are still some hard truths here that we must all learn to face as our family grows. I'm in no way ready to tackle this topic in a manner that will give it fair play on my blog, but I do think about it a fair amount, and somewhere in there, I'm trying to make it all make sense. One thing that having Charlie has taught me in a short time is that being "different" brings the reality of racism in our society to the surface. I've been trying to find some good books on the topic so any suggestions would be appreciated. These thoughts leave me with the question, "Is my love enough to protect him?" To some degree I think it is, but in time, I will also have to teach him how to handle this particular evil of our world with a sense of pride, self confidence, and humor. That amongst all the other "normal" growing up lessons and difficulties. Wow, now that is a tall order if ever there was one!

All of the above having been said...or typed...there is still such tremendous joy that floods my heart every time I look into the eyes of my sweet little boy. It is such a gift to be "the one" for him. To be able to make him smile and giggle like no other, and to be the one who can comfort him when he's upset. To be "Mommy," well...there is nothing sweeter or more rewarding!

Maybe Next Time...

Well, we have had a rather tumultuous 24 hours or so. Last night as I was sitting in math class, I got a call...you guys know the call. Only, it wasn't quite the call. It was from the birth parent counselor at our agency. She told me about a baby girl who was born this past weekend. She was 7-10 weeks premature, but "otherwise healthy." She was/is in the N-ICU at the hospital about seven miles from our house. For a moment I thought it was the call. Then we were told the birth parents would be looking at pofiles last night. We had very limited information upon which to base a quick decision about whether or not to be shown. Of course we wanted to be shown, and we were. By the time I managed to sit through the rest of class (in a complete daze) and get home, there was an email update from our CW:

"...for those of you who have already agreed to have your letter and album shown to the birth mother of the premature baby girl--J. will be meeting with her tomorrow morning at which time she and her boyfriend will be looking at letters and albums. IF SHE CHOOSES TO MEET YOU, I WILL BE CALLING YOU AT AROUND 11 AM TOMORROW MORNING. YOU WILL HAVE TO BE AT THE AGENCY BY NOON TO MEET WITH THEM." J. and I know that this is ridiculously fast-crazy, but it's the best we can do in this situation. So stay tuned, and I'll be in touch."

So it was with that information that we went to bed last night. We didn't talk about it much, I don't think either one of us really knew what to say or exactly how to process the situation. Suffice it to say I don't think either one of us slept very well. I knew I needed to stay guarded, and be careful, but as you all know, that is much easier said than done.

This was unlike anything we've experienced as yet throughout this process. This was the first time I received information through a phone call rather than an email. This was the first time there was a real, already born baby girl in the picture. How my heart was aching for her last night, and for her whole situation. Even if we weren't the couple who was supposed to be there with her, I wanted someone to be there.

This morning unfolded at a slow crawl that was utterly unsettling. I had called my parents last night to tell them, just so I could tell someone...but we didn't want to say too much too soon, so we left it at that. Then I took my parents to the airport this morning for their trip to CA. It was nice to see them in person, and to get to talk to them about the "almost baby girl." I think we were all dreaming a bit. By the time 11:00 a.m. rolled around, I sort of already knew this time wasn't our time. That hunch was confirmed by around 12:40 p.m. (not that anyone was counting) when our CW called to tell us the birth parents had chosen another couple.

So the rest of the day has been spent feeling alternately OK, and being completely downtrodden. Of course that has been mixed in with Michael working his two jobs, and me studying for my last three final exams. One thing we both decided is that we need to get a car seat! Having this happen...this so close experience...has made us realize just how unprepared we really are. I think that one item will be moving up on our to-do list in the very near future!

So that's that...there's really nothing more to say. For the people who were chosen, I am very happy. This whole experience was THE experience for someone, and that is awesome. I wish them, and that baby girl a lifetime of happiness and health. Everyone keeps saying that one of these times it really will be our turn. Even though I don't really believe that at the moment, this experience did make me realize that you just never know what is in store or what will happen or when. I feel oddly hopeful and heartbroken all at the same time.

"Due Date"

Today was our "due date" on the baby registry. Today was the day I originally projected that we would have our little baby...or at least news of him/her. Admittedly, I just picked the date randomly because 13 is our lucky number, and April seemed like a nice, happy month...but still.

I'm not going to waste time repeating stuff I've already said...I'm just quietly observing that today things are not where I want them to be. They are far from that mark I have set, but even so, they are still good. We're hanging in there, and we will survive...we're just both having a hard time with this wait lately, and it's bringing us down.

Michael is normally so even-tempered and laid back. Sometimes I forget that this is affecting him too--that it's hard for him too. But lately he's been down, which makes me sad.

Anyway, I just want to say thank you to all of you who commented on my last post. Reading it now, it seems pretty bleak...but that is how I was feeling. I am better now, but still not up to my typical happiness level. Your support, encouragement and advice means the world to me, so THANK YOU!

This too shall pass...

Bursting at the Seems

Tonight I am screaming from the inside out, I am SO SICK of waiting!!! I feel frustrated and angry and left behind and just generally like my life is standing still while everyone else is spinning in happy little circles around me. I know I hardly have room to complain. I know there are many people out there who have far worse situations with which to cope. I get that. I know there are many people out there who have far better and more positive attitudes than I do right now. I am just so very frustrated, and so very fed up with this whole drawn out and overwhelming process!!!

I had to call BRU and change the "due date" on our baby registry yesterday. I can't explain why exactly, but that just set me off. It's a simple thing, inconsequential really, but it irked me to the core. BRU really needs to have a special registry for prospective adoptive parents so they don't have to specify a due date. Why can't we just put TBD? Seriously, with all the technology available these days you'd think that would be possible.

I'm also bothered because we now have to get our home study and paperwork updated. Even though we weren't officially active in the pool until July last year (due to the time it took me to create our profile letter and album,) our home study was done in April. HOW IS IT APRIL ALREADY??? I just didn't want to have to do these things, I wanted to have our baby by now. I know I sound like a pouty, whiny b*tch, but I'm sick of internalizing all this crap so I can put on yet another happy face that I don't really feel. My soul feels unsettled lately and it's really pulling me down. WHERE IS OUR BABY LOVE???

The other huge thing that has been heavily weighing on me lately (all puns intended!) is that I have been thinking a lot more about weight loss surgery (WLS.) Even after reading a book about it and going to a consultation at a WLS clinic near us, I am left feeling conflicted and unsure about the whole thing. This is really a post for another day, because it stirs up so many feelings that I don't...or maybe even can't share. Weight has been a lifelong battle for me, it's not like this is the first time I've thought about surgery. I think what's bugging me though, is that this is the first time I've thought about it this seriously, and I think adoption is at the core of that conundrum. There are many reasons why I think WLS might possibly be the right path for me to take, but to be perfectly honest, I don't know how, nor do I feel even remotely qualified to make a decision of this magnitude. And then there's the part of me that thinks (like BB said in a previous comment) that maybe our match will happen because of our struggles with weight rather than in spite of them. I want to be happy and healthy and live my best life, both now and in the future when I'm a mom, isn't that what everyone wants? But would losing my weight guarantee that I would be happier? NO...it wouldn't guarantee anything at all, and it might very well be a big mistake that I would later regret. I think I just think too much, and I probably just need to let it all sit for a while now that I've obtained so much new information.

As I stated in a previous post, all this self-doubt and wavering back and forth is really out of character for me, which is unsettling. Sometimes I don't feel there is anyone with whom I can really talk about all this stuff, which is more my fault than theirs. I have a really hard time voicing some of these thoughts and feelings, especially verbally and in person. Whatever...it just is what it is, and I have to realize that whatever is going to happen will happen one way or another. I'm certainly not a fatalist by any stretch of the imagination, but I do think that sometimes "freedom of choice" seems a lot more consequential than it really is.

I'm done for now.

Deflated

Lately I've been feeling pretty good, but these last couple days...it's like someone deflated my balloon. I can't pinpoint one thing that's gotten me down, other than the strong likelihood that my mood is largely in response to the monsoon-like weather Michigan has had recently. I actually enjoy the rain, but this has been a little too much for me. We had over two inches of rain this past weekend, complete with a flooded basement, and it's still coming down tonight. *Sigh*

The situation I mentioned in this post turned into another "no." Without going into details, I will say that my very first thought at hearing that news was one of relief more than anything else. That definitely tells you something. Still, every "no" also comes with some sadness for me. In theory, I do know our time will come, but practically speaking, this wait feels eternal.

I fear that I may become bitter the longer this takes. The rejection never gets any easier, no matter what the situation entails, but my reaction changes a little each time. The inevitable tears I cry take a little longer to arrive each subsequent time we receive the same basic email from our CW. They always sound similar, and basically say something to the effect of, "I know this is difficult, but so-and-so has chosen another family..." The more times I read those words, the more detached my reaction becomes. Maybe this is a healthy/normal defense mechanism, but it makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

In any case, our wait continues and I'm just plugging away. As miserable as I sound in this post, I'm really not. I am tired tonight, and therefore may be feeling a little more on edge than normal, but for the most part I'm just "walking along the plateau" (thanks to BB for that) of this journey.

The Name of My Game

OK, Friends...obviously I've been biting my blogging tongue lately since my last post was over two weeks ago. I know some of you have been wondering where I've been and I have to tell you, I've been trying to think about things other than adoption. I thought maybe even a break from blogging would help in that endeavor, but it hasn't. No matter what I do, or how much I tempt the fates by making myself insanely busy...adoption is still there in the recesses of my mind. Even when I ignore it, waiting is still the name of my game. I have been overwhelmingly busy, and that's 3/4 of the reason I've been absent from blogging lately, but I've also been testing my emotions during this time to see if a break made me feel any better. I probably don't have to tell you that it didn't...we all know how therapeutic blogging can be.

Before I continue, I'm giving you a wet blanket alert. You should know that if you read further, it's probably going to be depressing. Believe me, I've tried thinking about only those things for which I am thankful (there are many,) I've tried biding my time by preoccupying myself with other activities, and I've tried thinking positively. Purposeful though those things are, they are simply not enough to soothe my soul. My heart--and consequently my mind, always comes back to the unmistakable sense of longing I feel. I thought about sugar-coating this post, in an attempt to avoid being an emotional drain to my readers, but then I thought better of that idea. My #1 goal with this blog has always been to tell our adoption story (from my perspective) as it unfolds.

As it happens, this part of our process is not filled with warm fuzzy thoughts and uplifting news. We are where we are and that's just that. I talked to our social worker recently and there is still no news about any potential birth families. I feel discouraged by this. I've read several other posts, etc. lately that have indicated this is a very busy time for other agencies, so I'm wondering what's going on with ours? November and December were packed and now there's just nothing? I'm also worried because our home study was in late April last year and I have a feeling we're going to have to get that updated. I don't think it's a big ordeal, but it does mean more money and more paperwork, which, quite frankly, makes me feel exhausted. I just wonder when our time is going to come.

How much longer must wait and how much more must we endure? All we want is a family, why does it seem that's too much to ask? I want to be a mom...I need to be a mom, to raise a family with the man I love. Why does that heartfelt desire have to be so unendingly difficult? There are so very many questions in my mind and in my heart, I'm ready for some answers. I feel angry, disappointed, sad...so very sad. I HATE feeling this way. Negativity goes against my grain. I am a very laid back person, and there was a time in my life when I would have described myself as optimistic. The years of pain associated with infertility, and to a lesser extent, adoption have altered that aspect of my personality somewhat. I hate the notion that I may be a drag to the people who are trying to support me, but having said that, I can't change how I feel and I don't want to pretend to be someone or something I'm not.

In a big way, I feel so completely exhausted, and more than situationally exhausted, if that makes any sense. I'm tired of always being on the sidelines of motherhood...on the outside looking in. I'm tired of being the support person and the one who fills in the gaps for the real mothers. I want a leading role and I feel like I'm ready for such a role. HOW MUCH LONGER DO WE HAVE TO WAIT?

Whatever...there is really nothing more I can say tonight. I know that there is no way to succinctly explain everything that's on my mind. Anyone who could read minds would run screaming if they took a look at mine right now. I am spent.

Technically...

...I shouldn't be classified as a living thing. Who knew that the study of life science would make me feel so vulnerable? The other night in my biology methods class, we talked about the five characteristics of living things, one of which is reproduction. So since I'm not able to reproduce, does this mean I'm not a living thing? It's two parts funny and one part sad for me to think about this. I almost raised my hand to ask, but I refrained since that would have been pretty weird.

I gotta' admit it, I am not enjoying my semester thus far. I've flipped my schedule from T/Th to M/W/F, which means there are no familiar faces in the hallways these days. I guess I'm feeling kind of lonely on the school front. I also am not impressed with any of my professors at this point. They all seem a little too intense for my taste. Hopefully it will get better...

Even though I said I was feeling far away from all the adoption thoughts in my last post, I may have spoken too soon. I've been diligently checking my email lately, hoping there might be word from our social worker. In her last correspondence she said, "I hope you enjoy your Thanksgiving and that the year ahead brings good news." Yes, it's been since Thanksgiving since we've heard anything. I guess I sort of tucked her comment away in the back of my mind and now that the new year is here I've been expecting/hoping we would hear something.

Then again...getting our hopes up only to have them come down isn't fun either so maybe it's better this way. There seems to be no good way for me to deal with all of this. If I think about it too much I drive myself crazy and get depressed, and if I don't think about it enough it creeps up on me anyway. AARGHHHHH! I guess there is just no easy way...no detour through this wait.

All Those Kids

I subbed in a 4th grade classroom today and we went down to the auditorium for a choir concert this afternoon. Watching those kids singing up on stage, it occurred to me that at least timing-wise, one of them could have been ours. We officially started seeking support for infertility when I was 25, but we had several years of doing nothing to prevent pregnancy prior to that. I'm 33 now so technically we could have a child as old as 10. Heck, if things had worked out according to my plans I'd have had a whole house full of the little buggers by now!

I guess melancholy would be the right word for how this made me feel. Not quite sad, but definitely pensive. I can't really imagine having a nine or ten year old right now, and yet that's what I had in mind back at the beginning of what has become a very long journey to parenthood. I know it will happen when the time is right, but I just wish that time could be now. I don't want to be any older than I am now to get started. Not that there's anything wrong with being an older parent...I know lots of people who are waiting longer and longer to start families these days. I just never thought that would be us and I'm ready to get the show on the road.

I don't really know how to explain this, but sometimes I still feel like a kid in a grown up body. Like sometimes when I'm leading a group of 30+ kids down the hallway, I wonder why the adults I pass don't question the fact that I'm in charge of so many kids. Then I remember that I'm the responsible adult in the vicinity and the realization that this is my real life hits me. I always used to feel like my life would start when ________ (fill in the blank) but the older I get the more I realize THIS is my real life, here and now...this is it.

Patience has never been one of my strong suits, and that trend is holding true with adoption too. I just wish I could know when it would happen and then maybe waiting would be easier. I'm such a control freak but I can't even help it. My expectation attitude is not where it should be today. Waiting sucks!!!

Four Plus One

Today we have been officially waiting in the pool for four months and one day. Today I also found out the two other birth mothers that were on our radar screen have chosen other people. I'd like to say I'm feeling great and confident that the right one will come along, that I'm not sad at all...but that would be a lie. The truth is that I feel stung. I can't help but question what is wrong with us...why haven't we been chosen yet? Should we rewrite our letter...what did we say or not say that is causing us to be passed over? How come some people get chosen after only weeks in the pool while we must wait? Where is our baby Love??

I know this needs to be put into perspective. I know we have only been shown five times, one of which doesn't even really count because she chose the very first person she was shown. I know four months really isn't very long at all in the grand scheme of things. I know our baby will come when he or she is ready and not before. I know this will all unfold when the time is right. I know, I know, I know...and yet I can't seem to shake the feelings of angst I have with all of this.

I'm not doing any justice to my emotions with this post, I'm not qualifying how I really feel at all because I'm not sure I can. When I read the update email from our CW this afternoon I immediately got a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling of rejection and loss. Much like the feeling I used to get when I would take a pregnancy test after a missed period and it would be negative. Like that but also very much unlike that at the same time. Does this make any sense?

I think part of the problem is that my state of mind is skewed at the moment. I am exhausted beyond belief. I've been serving on a jury in downtown Detroit for the past two weeks and the trial is nowhere near completion. I'm also in the crunch time of a 16-credit hour semester and I'm missing a lot of classes. I'm behind on all my projects, my house is a mess, my car is a mess, I am a mess. I need a break--some time to recoup, but no break is on the horizon. I am well aware my attitude is rotten, and I'm quite certain I need to be quiet now and go use my time wisely, which is exactly what I'm going to do...starting now.

I don't miss it

Today during my observations for my elementary education field experience, I had an opportunity to talk with a woman who is currently undergoing treatments for infertility. It never ceases to amaze me how my life twists and turns, and still seems to align perfectly with the lives of others at times. During this happenstance conversation, I had the distinct and certain feeling that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. Of course that knowledge is secure for me on an intellectual level, but it's so easy to forget and to wonder why we're still on this side of the parenting fence when we want so badly to cross over. It's easy to feel frustrated about where I am because sometimes I feel like my whole life is taking way too long to get going. Between school, substitute teaching, and where we are in the adoption process...I am constantly in varying stages of transition during this period in my life. Sometimes that gets really old. It's so weird for me to realize...if my life had gone according to my plans, I wouldn't have been where I was today. I wouldn't have made that valuable connection with another person - and who knows, maybe I was able to offer her some small semblance of peace or hope along her path as well.

The other thing that strikes me so profoundly as I reflect upon the conversation we had, is that I can say with 100% honesty that I do not miss infertility treatments one tiny little bit. Listening to her talk was like re-living an uncomfortable nightmare to which I already knew the unhappy ending. My ending, not hers. I don't feel that way about adoption though--even during my lowest times. I don't feel that same sense of despair and emotional exhaustion that was the constant companion of my journey through infertility. I don't miss the prods, pokes, bruises and pain. I don't miss the "days off for personal reasons," the scheduled sex, or trying to rush to the doctor's office before or after school and work...always cutting my time to the bone. I don't miss any of it...and with that realization I am newly reminded that we have something about which to rejoice right now. I have been so bogged down lately with school and work, and in my spare time feeling sorry for myself that I've forgotten to be happy. We ARE going to have a baby...when the time is right, and that is an awesome thought! That makes me want to jump for joy!

We've had two more opportunities to have our profile shown to potential birth mothers during these last few weeks. I haven't blogged about any of this because I didn't want a repeat of that excitement and disappointment cycle I went through the first time we were shown. Needless to say, neither of the subsequent two potential matches panned out for us, because if they had you can be sure I would have been talking. I'm okay with that though, and I honestly feel detachment was a much healthier way for me to handle having our profile shown. The truth is that we may have to go through that process many more times before our birth mother comes along - only time will tell. I am much more comfortable and secure with where we are now though, each time it does get a tiny bit easier...just like some of you said it would. After today I have a renewed sense of faith that our right time will come too...that we are indeed exactly where we should be; doubts, uncertainty and all.

The Truth

The truth is that sometimes the truth hurts. I've been one part extremely busy and one part extremely sad, hence the reason I've been away from the blogosphere for the past week or so. I'm sorry to all of you whose blogs I haven't read recently. I played a little catch up today and am feeling like a better blogging buddy now. :)

As for my sadness, I'm making progress in getting over our last bit of disappointing news from the agency. I don't know what in the world I was thinking, but I was thoroughly convinced that was our baby, even though it was our first time being shown and we only had a one in six chance. My hopes were sky high and I was very worked up. It was hard for me to hear we weren't chosen. Harder than it should have been, I think. Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me. I've read some stories where people just move on and barely flinch when they aren't chosen--I admire the complete and utter faith some of you have. Sometimes I wish I could say the same for myself. I mean, I do have faith, but sometimes it feels rather fragile and shaky--not at all like the armor I know it is for some people. I guess it's just that I've wanted this - motherhood for so long now that sometimes I honestly feel like I can't wait another day. I know my time will come when the time is right, and I have absolutely NO control over when that will be, but that knowledge doesn't make this part of the process any easier.

Luckily I am busy these days, head-spinningly so. My semester has been a whirlwind lately, and when I'm not at school I'm either getting my feet wet with subbing jobs or doing homework. All this activity is supposed to make waiting easier, right? Right!

Blah...

Picking out a new one...

I haven't been able to decide whether to blog about this peculiar little incident or not, but it's finally gotten the better of me.

On Monday night, after a somewhat long and lonely day at home, I was at the grocery store. I was shopping and minding my own business when, out of the blue, a little girl of about three ran up under the handle of my cart and said, "mommy...mommy...mama" as she stood there. Needless to say, I was taken aback. I smiled at her and said, "sweetheart I'm not your mommy, do you know where she is?" About that time her dad came around the corner and (in a jovial tone) asked what she was doing. She said "finding mommy" in her sweet little girl voice and then he said, "or picking out a new one there?" That was it...I laughed and they went on down the aisle while I stood there.

I was smiling on the outside, but also feeling...I don't know...a little sad I guess. After that I kept seeing this little family throughout the store, though we didn't exchange any further words. I saw the mommy the girl had been looking for, and strangely she looked nothing like me. I'm sure I'm reading way too much into this one small happenstance, but maybe it was meant as a small reminder that my time is coming?

Normally this wouldn't have been a big deal, but right now, with where we are in the process, and how I've been feeling lately...it hit home for me in a big way. That little girl has no idea of the impact she left on me...no idea how very much I long to hear a little voice calling me mommy for real. The whole experience was only about two minutes long and yet it's one I doubt I'll ever forget...