do you think about giving?

Hello!

I've been at Girl Scout training and a kick ass dance party for the last couple of days, the dance party was only one evening, but it was soooo much fun it took time to recover :)

Any-hoo, I wanted to start out the week with some great organizations that you may not know anything about. The holiday season is coming down on us like hurricane of "buy! buy! sale! sale!", and I thought I could use this forum to let you (all 17 of you!!) know about organizations that are out there that actually do what we talk about doing. Check them out and you'll see how easy it is to change the battle cry this season to, "GIVE GIVE GIVE!!!!"

http://www.charitywater.org/

http://mare.org

http://www.heifer.org/

http://www.holtinternational.org/

http://www.kalamazooahp.org/calendar/hhaw

http://www.kzoogospel.org/

For those of you that are strapped this season and think you have nothing to give. Look in your cupboards and I am sure you have a box of mac and cheese or a can of tuna that any area food bank would be happy to have.

Change starts with one little choice...

2 yrs later...

I just have to say, I am having a great time writing this! Thank you guys (all 17 of you! woot!) for taking the time to read it :)

Buzzing right along.

After Kayleigh was born we said we would like to adopt again. Given that it can take years for a birthmother to choose you we thought, hell, let's reapply as soon as we can. Why not?

Here's a little something you may not know. When adopting you can not apply to adopt again until the child is over 1 yr of age and the first adoption is finalized. Kayleigh was born April 23rd, her adoption was finalized on Dec 22...so, on her 1st birthday we threw our hat, aka application, back into the pool. And waited.

We kept in contact with Frannie, meeting for lunch, she came over, we called one another. We were there when she got married. And were there when she moved down south to be with her husband's family.

We kept in contact through calling, letters and pictures.

Then one day...she called.

We were chatting away when she mentioned that she was pregnant, her husband had left her...she didn't want to parent...she asked if we would be interested in adopting this baby. We asked, "Is this is your choice?", she said, "Yes."

Now, the romantic stuff.

we called the social workers. When adopting you have to make sure that everything is up and up. That all parties are on board with the choices. That all decisions were made with a clear head and all choices for the birthmother were offered, that every avenue was shown to her to parent this child. She made the choice to come to Michigan to give birth, that choice was given to her by her social worker. Another piece of information, there are at least two social workers for each adoption, one for the adoptive family and one for the birthmother. Each social worker works only with their people. And they take their job a hell of a lot more serious than anyone working that I know.

Now, for those of you that think that we "did" something for her to choose us again, that this was not her choice. This is where I call bullshit on your shit :)

She was 9 months pregnant and got on a Greyhound bus to come from Kentucky to Ann Arbor. She called us and asked if we were interested in adopting the baby. She called her social worker. She called her family. She made the choice. She could have changed her mind after she gave birth up to 90 days after she gave birth.

This was her choice.

In fact, we had no control over the situation what so ever. In the state of Michigan an adoption can be nullified if you ask to adopt a child, an adoption can be nullified if money changes hands...even $5.00, an adoption can be nullified if all avenues of parenting are not shown to the birthmother. So, NO we did nothing, but answer the phone.

And I make no apologies for that.

Two weeks later on, July 2, 2004 we got a phone call at 5 am.

When we got to the hospital Frannie's parents were there. Her mom gave me a hug, grabbed my hand and dragged me into the delivery room. She told me to grab a leg and I watched my sweet boy being born...just like that. He flew into the world yelling as soon as his head was out! Frannie's mom laughed and said he was a fighter :). Frannie said she was hungry!

And like that,

our family...grew by one.

K's story...

Every child has their story and K loves her story! She loves it so much that she knows it by heart and still at the age of nine when I sing the song I wrote for her when she was born she will take my hand, put it against her cheek and lay on her pillow (she has done this since she was a baby), she looks up at me with those beautiful brown almond shaped eyes and says,

"Mama, tell me my story..."

and I do.

(This version has swearing. As you know I never swear in front of my children and is more indepth)

It was April 22, 2002, my sister Boopie was in town for a conference and staying with us (God works in crazy ways). We all went to bed like normal and at 5:15am the the phone rang...Kevin grabbed the phone and it went flying, no shit. It flew up in the air and when he finally got a hold of it to say, "hello", the line was dead...FUUUUUCCCCCKKKK. We both knew that it was the hospital calling for Frannie or Frannie saying she was at the hospital or somebody calling to say something...something that had to do with a baby girl!

We waited, got dressed, stared at the phone...then at 5:25 am it rang again (you will never know how long that 10 min was!!!) Kevin answered and a nurse told him that Frannie had given birth and she wanted us to come to the hospital!!

We arrived in the hospital in a fog...we checked in with the nurses station, showed id and were given wrist bands. Then we went to Frannie's room and knocked on the door. We walked in and she was sitting in bed holding the most beautiful baby I have ever seen...I couldn't even see her face, she was glowing.

I have to take a moment to explain something here. We were non-people...non-parents...no rights, we were nothing. If Frannie would have said, "get them out of here" or "I've changed my mind". We would have walked out of the room and that would have been that. Prospective adoptive parents give up ALL control.

Back to the story :)

She held onto the baby as we talked, asking how she was and such...I never asked to hold the baby, it was not my place. She asked me to call her social worker and I went out into the hall to make the call, when I came back, Kevin was holding the baby...tears in his eyes...holding this little pink bundle...I stood there, staring when Frannie said, "Do you want to hold her?"...all I could do was nod and take her in my arms...she was amazing...Frannie was amazing...she was laughing and joking with Kevin...she asked for the baby back...I handed her back...a nurse came in to check Frannie and she asked us to to leave so she could rest and to come back later...we did...it was a dream...I kissed Frannie on the head and asked if I could kiss the baby...she said yes!

We went back and saw them again, we brought her lunch, every time her family was there or her friends, all holding the baby...I would ask if I could hold her and they would all watch me...I fed the baby and they watched...her aunt judged...We didn't stay long any of our visits. Frannie was spending time with the baby and this I knew in my heart was needed.

On April 24th we came to the hospital, the baby was being released and so was Frannie. We had planned in our earlier conversations to have a "handing over ceremony". This is one of the hardest things I have ever been a part of. In our situation the reverend for the hospital came and talked to Frannie the night before and she was leading the ceremony. I had brought three different outfits for Frannie to choose from so she could dress the baby, she wanted us to do this together, she will never know what that meant to me. Frannie held the baby as the reverend spoke of love and loss...of families...she asked Frannie what the baby's name was. "Kayleigh Marie Liberty May __________", this was the name we had decided on "together", two names from each of us, blended together forever...just like us. Then...Frannie walked over and put Kayleigh in my arms...we cried...we hugged...we thanked one another...we cried more...we hugged more...we finally smiled.

Frannie left with her family. And for the first time...we were alone with our daughter...no one...just us...sitting on a hospital bed, crying...crying for the gift that we were just given...crying for the Frannie...crying for it all.

Then a nurse came in, in your life if you are lucky you meet people, people who are put on this earth by God. She smiled at us, asked if we had a camera...and took the first picture of our family...

now what? attack of lannie and monnie!

Ok, we were chosen by a birthmother on March 23, 2002. The same day that Kevin's niece was born :). She was due to give birth a month later.

We kept in contact with Frannie with phone calls and lunch dates. We learned more and more about each other and it started growing a relationship. It was starting to be "normal".

We still hadn't done a thing for the nursery...we were chosen, but we hadn't purchased anything except this green frog stuffed animal that we purchased when we decided to adopt. That was it!

Two weeks before our birthmom gave birth, we still had nothing. Really, ask my friends Lannie and Monnie...they decided to kidnap me and take me to Babies R Us. What follows is a true story, no names have been changed to protect the kidnappers, they know who they are and I am sure they remember this as well as I do...I came out of this experience a changed woman. The gift that these two gave me that day is something I will never be able to repay. They gave me the gift of believing, believing I was going to be a mom and all I needed was an ass load of baby shit and two friends by my side.

You are probably wondering where my wonderful husband was...well, working his ass off. He was trying to get as much work done so that he could take two full weeks off from work, that was the greatest thing for us. To know that he would be there worry/stress free for two weeks was wonderful.

Back to the kidnapping. They showed up and informed me that they had decided I needed to get my ass in gear and act like we were having a baby! Off we went, no drinks, no drugs, stone sober and terrified I was dragged to the store all the while wondering what I would do with all the shit they were going to make me buy if the adoption did not happen. When we got to the store each of them grabbed a cart...yes, I said that, TWO carts. When I asked why two carts they looked at each other and laughed!!! What the what???

As we went through the store getting baby items, bottles, suction things, blankets, washcloths, you name it. Remember, we had nothing, no baby shower, no nothing, not 9 months to plan, 4 weeks. We were still keeping this close to our hearts...wishing for it to happen, but willing to give into whatever happen. Well, they "outed" me, these two amazing women told anyone within 3 feet that we were adopting a little baby girl and that I didn't have shit at home. They were stronger than me...they were fucking machines!

And, when you get those strong personalities together...they fight! They argued over almost everything...it was comical. When they couldn't decide they grabbed one of each, if I questioned they just looked at each other then me and said, "oh honey, you'll need it!". And they were right.

We filled two shopping carts that day, ordered a crib and rocking chair. I felt like it was really going to happen and was ready to put a nursery together...I also needed a drink!

When I got home, Monnie was still with me. We grabbed some coffee...she had to drive home, when the phone rang. It was the people from the Discover card wanting to know if my card had been taken, there was and "unusually LARGE charge at Babies R Us"...

"No", I said, "We are adopting a baby girl."

the meeting...eeeek

So, we set up a meeting at the agency, us the "prospective adoptive parents" and her the "prospective birthmother".

Imagine the most nerve racking, stomach punching, want to puke, want to cry job interview you have ever had...it won't even touch this. It was like a dream. We met at 4 pm, both of us went to work and worked a half day, because what else were we going to do? I'll tell ya, we would have wondered around the house, staring at each other and become more stressed out and slightly crazy. Going to work gave us a sense of normalcy in a very "unnormal" situation.

We had written and rewritten questions for the birthmother, questions that our social worker asked us to write. She didn't give us a list or anything, we just thought up these questions and I carried around this piece of paper like the holy grail. We still have them, tucked away in K's baby book, I think we asked 2 of the 15 questions that we wrote! The social worker wanted us to have these questions to help the conversation "flow". I think 3 people besides ourselves knew we were meeting with her. Again, we were protecting ourselves from the shit storm of questions that would fly our way. We didn't have answers, so why add that stress to our lives??

We showed up at the agency and our social worker came out...we were nervous. I peed 3 times after arriving, classy I know. She told us that "Frannie" had brought some family with her for support. Great. I thought this was a smart, mature move, she needs support at this time and I was glad her family was there for her. Then the social worker told us it was her sister, mother, aunt, and grandmother. Now, i was shit balls scared...and I had to pee...

We walked into a conference room and chairs were set up in a circle. The five woman were sitting down, we made our way over. I was feeling so nervous, but felt better with the social worker there. She had done this before, she was a pro. She introduced everyone we shook hands and said hello, then...OUR SOCIAL WORKER LEFT US!!!! No shit, she said she would be back later and walked out the door...I really had to pee...

We stared at each other...and stared. Then "Frannie" said, "how do you say your last name? I've been trying to figure it out?". She gave us the gift of an ice breaker. We laughed and told her, she said she really liked our album and letter which she holding in her lap. I was trying to remember what we had put in the letter, I hadn't read it in a year! Crap!!

We talked about growing up, our families, we talked about were we worked and that I was willing to quit my job, we talked about life...the conversation started to flow. She said that she was having a baby girl! We didn't ask, I took this as a good sign :)

Then her aunt asked about religion. We are born and raised Catholic, we attend church and knew we wanted our child to be Catholic. Her family is strict southern Baptist. Her aunt started on us and called us Mary worshipers and that she didn't like the Catholic church....

Then, for the first time her grandmother spoke, "will the child have God in her life?"

We said yes

"That's good enough for me", conversation over.

The social worker came back in and asked Frannie's family to step out. We spoke, just the 3 of us and when we left she said, "I think I made a great choice".

HUH?

"I think you guys will make great parents, thanks for meeting with me."

And that was that. She had made her decision. And it was US!

Holy crap...now what???

The call!

We did our classes

We did our home study

We did our letter

We did our album

We waited for about a year

Then...

THE CALL!!

I can't remember the day of the week, I can't remember the time...I can remember that I didn't answer the phone, it was my day off and I was still in my pj's and ignoring the phone! I was working on the handbags I was selling and was in a groove...ignoring the phone. ignoring the phone! finally, I answered the phone and it was Kevin. The social worker got a hold of him at work and he had spoken to a birthmother. The birthmother that turned out to be our birthmother! Kevin was amazing, he said he was nervous but, when everyone in a situation is nervous, hell, it is such a individual situation that ours is nothing like yours and yours is nothing like ours. There is no set code, no menu, no right, no wrong.

We setup a meeting for a couple of days later.

This part was a whirl...we told a couple of people. But mainly kept it to ourselves. This is how we handled the process, we kept the information very close to our hearts. Then, if anything happen we wouldn't have to have the, "questions" from people. It worked for us and we did it with all of our adoptions. Letting it be ours, our little secret, letting the levity of the situation be absorbed into us before we shared it with others.

This was a meeting that could change our lives.

Then the, "what if's", came. They can storming in like a frat boys at a kegger. They took over.

What if she doesn't like us, what if we sound like assholes, what if she chooses us and changes her mind, what it the earth explodes before Thursday and we never get to meet her!!!

*tune in tomorrow for....The meeting....and see what happens :)*

I bet ya didn't know

S was sick Friday, not a cold, down right ER visit in the afternoon because the Dr. said that there was nothing the office could do! She ended up having a stomach thang that dehydrated her and caused a UTI...poor bug! Sitting in the ER I started thinking about when R came home.

R was a little guy and very sickly. Not something any parent wants for their child and when you adopt in MI you have the added stress of not being a "legal" parent for at least 60- 90 days, you are considered "prospective adoptive parent'' and whereever we went we had 3 legal documents that stated this tucked away in a ziploc sandwich bag. So, whenever we had to take R to the ER or a doctors appointment we had a piece of paper that the doctor had to fill out and sign, then we sent this signed paper to the social worker who sent it to the court system. Easy peasy...

Now, imagine a sick little guy in the ER at 2am...coughing, he can't breathe and having to explain you really don't know anything about his life "in the womb", and that you don't know about family history....and really you don't know anything. You look in their eyes and you are praying you have those legal documents, because they already think you stole this baby! It doesn't help that my voice goes really fast and high pitched when I am nervous and stressed. Now, picture if you will, me and R in the ER at 2am...he is sick as shit...I am freaking out and rambling on like a crack head...and when he is better, breathing I grab the nurse and say, "excuse me...can you sign this?? We need it for court". Yea...I am a responsible parent!

R's adoption was not finalized for 18 months...during that time he was going to the doctor on an average of 1-2 times a week. Sometimes they sent us right to the hospital (that means 2 forms) sometimes not. Doing the math, 4 x 18 = 72, and that is a low estimate on how many times I had to ask a doctor to fill out a form to send to the social worker to send to the court to put in R's file.

I bet ya didn't know about that!

mommy wars!

This is a topic that has driven me nuts forever. Why as mother's do we feel the need to put each other down? Judging how we parent? Judging mother's for staying home or working outside the home? Hell, to say how your child came to you is better then someone else??? Really??? Where is the solidarity? Where is the "nurturing" of one another?

This really came about when 9 yrs ago my best friend had an emergency c-section around the same time that K came home. People were weird about K, not knowing what to do or say, but for the most part they were kind, at first. Not to A. She had an emergency c-section, her son was in the NICU and other woman had the nerve...the fucking nerve to tell her they were "sorry" she didn't give birth??? What the what? Not sorry that her son was in the NICU, not that she was sick as a fucking dog...NO, they were "sorry" she had not given birth. That unless he flew out her vajayjay she was less than, not a "real" mother. Let me tell you, she is a mother she is what motherhood is, she put her child's well being FIRST.

This is when I realized that there was this fucked up competition that I had became part of, that I wanted nothing to do with! Why? Why are mother's trying so hard to one up one another? It has been something I have struggled with for years. To meet these new women and they wear their judgments like badges on their sleeves.

A few years ago, after S was born at 5 weeks early and under 4 pounds. I was standing in the driveway playing with the kids and wonderful neighbor walked up with a "friend" of hers. We were talking and all of a sudden she, the "friend", starts ranting about how formula is "poison", that no one should give their child formula...breast is best...unless you want to, "fuck up your baby". HUH??? I was polite...and ignored her. The person who didn't ignore her was K. She was freaked out. "Mama, we can't give S formula, she will die...what are we going to give her?? I don't want her to have poison!!!". I had to explain that some people where crazy, like Rudy who collects cans, only some people bathe and wear clean clothes but, they can still be crazy. :)

Then there is J who had her daughter 13 yrs ago and her daughter too was in the NICU. She had the best term for the women who were relentless, cruel and down right wrong, as they berated her for not being able to breast feed. She named them the, "tit nazis". It was their way or you were out. Out of the mom club, you had failed.

I know women who have had home births, hospital births, adopted, breast fed, formula fed, only fed goat's milk. I have friends who work away from the home, work in the home and stay at home with the kids. Why do we have to put each others choices for our families up for debate? None of these choices are better than the other, they are made for each person's family.

There is no handbook for parenting, ok there are about 50000000000. And guess what, unless you have raised a child to adulthood and they are parents themselves, you can't have a, "philosophy". You know why? Because no two children are the same, not even siblings. And if you hang your hat on one way, you are doing what is best for you. Not your child. Children's needs and minds grow and change, therefore so should your philosophy. We need one another to talk to. To say this was working and now it's not! For others to say, "I KNOW!", and laugh with us.

I have 5 kids that are all parented differently, they are different kids they have different needs. I know for me, if I stuck to one "way", I would be doing it for ME. Not my kids. And they are the reason we are in this club to begin with, aren't they?

So please. Before you speculate, before you judge remember..."it's not about YOU".

The Album

First

I have to say, to all of those who find the time to write everyday...How do you do it???

I have found a new respect for all those who find the time to blog on a daily basis...it is hard! I am sneaking around trying not to be seen by the kids, because you all know they will want the computer to do whatever they deem important. :)

Here we go.

The last post was about the homestudy/dossier that is needed to be done to be considered for adopting a child. Today it is the "Album" that you make when you are adopting domestically. I know some people never had to do this, or did it just with pics or a video. With our agency we had to write a letter to prospective birthparents and make an album of our life up to the point in which we wanted to adopt. A quick and simple assignment.

The letter

When you write a letter to prospective birthparent you are trying to communicate in one to one and a half pages who you are. What you believe in, what you do, how you grew up, what type of child you were interested in adopting, why you were adopting all the time trying to make it sound casual and normal. Easy right? NO, not easy. We wrote our first letter thinking we knew what she wanted to hear, what she wanted to know about us. This letter, frankly sucked. It sounded like we were these too normal, too perfect, too much couple! When we showed it to our social worker, and she laughed! She had spent quite a bit of time with us and wanted to know who we had "ghost write" our letter...I kid you not. That is how nervous we were, we thought we knew just what a birthparent wanted to hear. We had no clue. We came to find out all we had to do was write in our own voice...and it sounded like the "normal" us. And it felt right. We weren't trying to be perfect, hell we are all flawed, we were trying to show that we were ready and open and trustworthy. Writing with our hearts and less of our heads made this process easier. Looking back on that first letter, well we just have to laugh!

The Album

So now comes the album. A collection of photos of you and your spouse, your family, the activities you enjoy doing, how you spend your time. Easy enough, right? Wrong! We went over photos again and again. We had traveled to China and all over South East Asia, we had been to California and Hawaii. The question comes up, "are you planning on taking a child to these places? Do you have the means to do so?...If the answer to any of these questions is, "no", those photos are out! Then we ran into the problem of not having any photos of the two of us, unless we were drinking at a party or acting like idiots (note photo at top :)), and we all know the answer to that! Photos out.

We spent the next few weeks having friends take staged shots of us around our house, out to dinner (hiding the drinks :)). And finally we came up with something that we were proud of. Something that said, "us".

These two parts took a couple of weeks to do. We didn't want it to just be thrown together, we wanted to let it grow and see how it went. The longer we sat with our letter and album the more confident we became...we weren't that bad! We were just two people looking to have a child to add to our family. The more we worked on the album and letter, the more we could visualize a child in our home...a baby to take pictures of, a birthfamily that we would share memories and photos with. And it felt right. It was us.

There is this aspect of adoption that all families go through in one way or another. We go into this with an organized mind and a focused heart. We stand tall, hold each other, cry and stress. This creature has a name. It's called..."homestudy"...and it is frighting!!

So, I thought it would be fun for those of you have not adopted to get a look at this part of the process.

Here's a list of part one:

-Birth certificates

-Marriage cert.

-SS cards

-Proof of other children/divorces/marriages/citizenships...

-W2's for the past 5 yrs

-Letter from employer stating you are in good standing with your place of work.

-Proof of mortgage or lease agreement

-Proof of health insurance, stating when coverage begins if you are placed with a child.

-Bank statements for all accounts

-Letter from bank stating how long you have been there and that you are in good standing.

-List of investments, with proof

-List of debt and what the debt is for; student loans, cars, mortgage...

-List of monthly expenses including the following; gas/electric, eating out, mortgage, car payment, how much in put into savings, entertainment...

-Proof of life insurance and for how much

-List of make and model cars

-Complete background check state and federal level, including fingerprinting. If you, let's say... have a record for a noise ordinance violation when you were 18 or trespassing in a park after hours when you were 19...be ready to explain! They want to know all about it. More information about the situation is better.

-Letters of reference from 6 person's not related to you, sent directly to agency.

-Documentation of level of education reached to this point in time.

-Complete physical...complete.

-HIV and drug screen.

And that is just the beginning :). Now comes part two...

You fill out detailed family history, couple history, marriage history. Ten pages of questions that

were not "yes/no" answers. They were LONG....

Some of the questions were; what is your parenting philosophy? how do you discipline? how were you disciplined? how do you handle conflict in your marriage? what are your rolls in the marriage? how do you communicate? The list goes on and on. I always thought it would be fun for when you got your marriage license or found out you were pregnant you were given all these questions to answer. They were so intense, and good for us to do. Hell, they are good for anyone in a relationship with children to do :). There is one section where you fill it out individually, away from your spouse. Then when you meet with the social worker they go over each of you answers...sexy I know.

Then the fun comes...they come to your HOUSE! eeeeeeeeeek. They come and look at everything! I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned....then cleaned so more. As if a clean house means you are going to be good parents! But, it gave us something to do when you are in a situation where you have NO CONTROL.

Imagine if you had to do this to give birth ;-)

Saturday is about ME!

Happy Saturday!!

I love me some Saturday. The kids sleep until 6am then dog pile in the bed and demand food while shoving their cold, damp feet on my face and back their sharp little toenails digging in the soft flesh behind my knees...what I'm telling you is that Saturdays are ALL about me! Me doing laundry, dishes, not showering, cooking and planning the FUN (as I write, Kevin is making breakfast!). So today's post is all about ME, my journey :)

When we were going through the adoption classes we met a great social worker. She is an adoptee who was taking care of her mother who was dealing with dementia and her father had passed. She had found her birthmother, who helped out with her mother and she got to have a relationship with her brothers....she was amazing, she was open and raw. She needed a cape. I fell in LOVE with her, her strength and honesty.

Then it happened...

During one of our meetings while we were talking she mentioned that therapy might be a good idea. This statement, to be totally honest, made me cry right then and there and I realized, damn...I need to get me some therapy! Anyone who knows me knows it went down this easy. I was going through a situation that was the most emotional journey I have ever undertook, I had no idea how it would end up, I didn't know if I was that woman, that woman I like to think I am.

I was in a doubt spiral.

During this time I had friends who got pregnant and I was truly happy for them, our journeys were and are different. Well, they were afraid to tell me, yeah that helped! It excluded me from my tribe, from my group that had always been close and shared all aspects of our lives. I was shunned, exiled to the island of "infertility". Pregnant friends, it seemed to me, avoided me, like I had a something they could catch. Needless to say, this sucked asssssss. I never defined myself as someone who couldn't be a mother, I was going about it differently.

The first 3 times I met with the therapist I cried. Not the little pretty tv cry, the ugly raw snot in your mouth, red faced, gasp for air sob...and it felt GREAT!! Where else on the face of the earth can you sit in a comfy chair with a full box of tissues and sob with no one judging you and asking, "are you ok", "how can I help" or "snap out of it!!!". It was cathartic. It was healing. It was just what I needed and to this day I am so grateful to this therapist for letting it happen. It also helped that she looked like Mrs. Claus in a flowered blouse and grey Rockport sneakers.

Then we talked.

It was great to come to reality that I wanted to be a mother. Carrying a child was just the most traditional way. Isn't it how everyone does it? I came to terms with my shame, yes people, shame of not carrying a child. People make you feel less of a woman...less of a person. You are told from a young age that the uterus is for holding a baby...that is it's purpose and every woman worth her grain of salt can do this. If you don't, you are less than. And dammit I'm not! No woman is. I had this feeling that I had let people down that I failed, failed at being a woman. If you have never gone through this you may think I am being overly dramatic. Well, I'm not. The social "norms" around becoming a mother are cruel, they judge, they are set there to make you feel small. Baby, we are only as small as we allow ourselves to be. I am not a victim of anything and refuse to stand by and let "them" make me feel like one.

My journey to motherhood was and is different, not less, not wrong just different.

I make choices with a clear mind, I stand tall with my family and take pride in my children's accomplishment. My children have a family that includes adoptive and biological persons, this to me is a true gift. To know so many people LOVE my children and want what is best for them, I might bust out crying...

But, what it comes down to is that it isn't about me...it is about the 5 damped feet heathens demanding bacon at 6am...they have made me a mother and I wouldn't change that for fucking anything!

adoption language

Ok, I am taking the post my friend Katie did which I loved and adding my two cents...ok, it's more like $1.50 of different currency wrapped in bacon!

The language of adoption was something I never really thought about until I adopted, I will be the first to say I just didn't think about it. Now...let me tell you people, I DO think about it. Not for me, but for my kids.

We are taught at a young age that words have power, words make people feel small, words can hurt. And as we get older we think that we no longer have to use the same care with words that we once did. Why is that? Well, when we were going through the "preparation for adoption" classes we were given a page of "proper adoption speak" and to this day I think of this paper every time someone who is not thinking blurts their shit out. And sometimes the one blurting the crazy shit out is your KID!

Here's how it went down.

K is nine and really interested in adoption, she is adopted. She has always known and knows her birthmother, knows her story and she knows I am her mom. We talk openly and she can and has asked many questions. So, the other day was like any other day until...here comes K skipping up the stairs, singing a Selma Gomez song and wearing socks on her hands, don't ask, and the following conversation happens:

"Hey Mom"

"Yeah, what's up?" (I'm doing dishes)

"Are you like my STEP MOM?", tilts head to the side.

"WHAAATTTT????????", I drop a dish in the sink.

"You know, because like I have 2 moms right? Frannie (not her name) and you. So you're like a step mom.", she twirls as she makes this pronouncement (remember she's nine!)

"UUUUUHHHH, no...I'm your mom, Frannie is your Birthmom, she made a birth plan for you and chose daddy and I to be your parents...", calm voice callllmmm voice.

"Yea, I know", she says, in a bored voice, "so, you're LIKE a step mom?"

Don't worry the story gets better. I stand there thinking, I know this kid, I KNOW THIS KID, she is mildly OCD, amazing at math and science...she needs this explained with order!

So, I say, "We have legal documents, signed by a judge that state you are our daughter and I am your MOM...we like went to court and everything...", great! Now I'm talking like her.

"Soooooooo....I have like a brother who is like a cousin...a brother cousin...so is Frannie my mom cousin?"

"WE DON'T LIVE IN KENTUCKY!", I did say this in a crazy loud high pitched make dogs run voice.

"MOOOOOMMMMM! We live in Michigan...like Kalamazoo. I don't know anyone from Kentucky...can we have hot dogs for dinner?"

"No, I'm making chicken...maybe tomorrow."

She twirls away...humming...

I shit you not, this conversation happen.

She is nine. She is looking for her place, where she comes from, how she got here. She wants to be able to relate to her friends, who I might add, have step parents, step children, step everything. She wants to feel special, but not the special that it makes her feel different.

She doesn't know that there is adoption speak...she just knows that no matter what question she throws at me I will answer to the best of my ability. She is one of five people that can get away with it and I take no offense.

After all it's her life she's talking about :)

What she doesn't realize, what she is told and still rolls her eyes at, is that she is one of a kind, an amazing, creative, wonderful girl that I am proud to call my daughter.

Brother cousin...that is a whole other thing.

Lesson one-Adoption comes out of loss

Lesson one - Adoption comes out of loss.

This is an emotional post for me, but I really think it has to be given a voice, a loud roar! Not a silent cry in the night...

Anyone who has adopted knows this, it is something that is hard to explain unless you have been in the thick of it. I will try, when a birthmother makes an adoption plan, she is giving up her rights to her child, she needs to mourn that loss, come to terms with it and to know her child has been placed in a safe, loving, nurturing home. The child has loss, he/she are taken away from his/her birthfamily, country and may never know about their health records or any other living family out there. The adoptive family mourns the loss of the “fantasy child” and any sense of control with the situation. Don’t fool yourself, when you choose adoption you choose to give up a lot of control.

When adopting you stand on this weird double edge sword. You are so happy, grateful, full of joy, fear, you want to pee and such to be given the gift of adopting a beautiful baby to make your family. And when you are in the situation you see and realize what your birthmother is doing, what an amazing gift she has planned for you and that as your dream of a child is coming to light, her 9 months of pregnancy is over and she is placing in your care her child to be yours, for you to raise, for you to hold when they cry, to be the one they yell for in the night and see all the up and downs, all the successes and failures for this, “your” child.

This is why we believe in open adoption and have an on going relationship with 3 of our kids Birthmother. This is also why when we adopted our two daughters from Ethiopia we chose that country and Holt International because we wanted to meet their families. I wanted to tell my girls that we hugged and kissed the hands of, cried with, touched their faces and hearts and that their “Ethiopian Mothers” knew that they were safe, that they would be loved. To look in her eyes and she knows the love in our hearts, she knew you were going to be joining a family.

I marvel at this everyday, someone gave me a gift that can never be explained. In return I hope I have given them peace in one of the most difficult decisions that they have ever made. They made the decision. They will never be forgotten or put on the back burner in this house. The house that holds the family they made happen.


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why adoption? the first steps

This is one of my favorite super personal questions. ;) You never go up to a pregnant lady and say, “why birth???”, or maybe you do, then shame on you! Then again, there are people out there who without provocation say to adoptive parents; you’re baby stealer's.. You’re second best. If God wanted you to have children you could give birth. You just need to relax and you will get pregnant. Adoption is soooo much easier than giving birth (we will touch on this later). Your children are so lucky (don’t ask them this question when they only get one packet of gummies!). We really wanted to adopt, but then we got pregnant! We are totally going to adopt, how much does it cost? Theses are just a few, i have heard many, MANY more. Anyone who has gone through adoption PLEASE leave some of your experiences for others to read. Let’s take away the power of “offensive adoption speak” and educate in the process :)

Back to it.

We decided to adopt for a simple selfish reason, we wanted children and we couldn’t have biological children. We’re not the type to say we are somehow “saving” a child and though I thank God everyday for the 5 beautiful faces smiling or yelling, I will not post scripture to stengthen the simple fact, “I want to be a mom”. Now comes the super personal question that I hear a lot, don’t act surprised people you have all wondered, “why can’t you have children...which one of you can’t?”, this answer I give total credit to my husband. I have heard him say this to people, “we can’t have biological children. How is your sex life? as long as we are free to ask personal questions?”. Reason 345 why I love this man. And this is the answer I am sticking to.

Like many couples wanting to have children we researched. We looked up different adoption agencies and their philosophies toward birthparents and adoptive parents. We made phone calls and waited for the information to arrive in the mail and we got drunk, because we could. Then, we made more phone calls, bought books, some we read...some not. And decided on Catholic Social Services in Ann Arbor. No, you don’t have to Catholic to adopt from them or to receive any of their services. in fact, one of our favorite social workers is jewish, the other one gay. We chose them for a few reasons:
1) They only do open adoptions (for those of you who don’t know what open adoption is I will fill in soon).
2) They have birthmother/father counseling for as long as the birthparent needs/wants it, free of charge.
3) They do everything possible to keep the birthfamilies together, shelter, help locating jobs, therapy, parenting classes (all free of charge)
4) The birthparents chose the family in which to make a plan to place their child for adoption. They choose, the decision of where their child goes who becomes their forever family is their CHOICE and they have control.
5)The social worker made me laugh. Which as you know in a time of stress is something you NEED.

So, we signed up! We enrolled in the madatory 6 weeks of classes needed before we could be considered for the “pool” (the “pool” is the group of families waiting to be chosen by the birthparents). We went to our first class naive, scared and overly caffinated. We were youngish (this was over 10 years ago), there were people in the classes that were older, bitter, angry and desperate. This is not to judge them, it was and still is an observation. We left the fist class...scared, naive and in need of alcohol.

We were told by a social worker during this time that, “when you become an adoptive parent you become an advocate for adoption”...and I am proud to say that we have and will be until they shove my bedazzled ass in the ground!

Adoption month...blog one

November is national adoption month and it got me to thinking about how we don’t celebrate adoption month, we celebrate adoption year. Everyday in and out we live and breathe adoption.
Adoption has given me the gift of family. Adoption has given me the chance to be a mother. Adoption has introduced me to many wonderful people and has given me many unexpected adventures that I never would have had, or knew exsisted. Adoption is a gift that I am thankful for and celebrate everyday in my children’s smiles, laughter and successes.

So, I have decided to write a blog about adoption through the eyes of my family. I am not going to be ALL out there with information, much of these stories belong to my children and are for them to share or not share when they choose. I am hoping to take you through a quick trip through the last 10 years of our life, the ups downs and all around. I am not a writer, my grammer sucks and I often forget punctuation. What I am is mother thanks to the selfless giving of women who I have come to have a amazing unexplainable bond too, women that many adoptive parents like to pretend are not there, the Birthmother of our children or as they call her their, “belly mom”.