This weekend I saw a post on a birth mother's support group wall that I sometimes visit.
The birth mother had just been told that the adoptive parents were not yet 'comfortable' with their son meeting her (the birth mother) and his older brother. The adopted child at hand is 17 years old. 78 days from being 18, when the child, who has already contacted his birth family, will be allowed to establish a relationship with them.
Really?....
Obviously I am not privy to all of the dynamics involved here.
But here is the thought that kept running though my mind.
If you are not comfortable with your child meeting his/her birth family, don't adopt.
Because your child is the genetic match to his birth family. You don't have to like the choices that they made, but you do have to acknowledge that your child comes from another family. Your child probably looks like them. May even act like them.
And I wonder if you are uncomfortable with knowing your child's family of birth, are you completely accepting of who your child is? Because he/she is the sum of many things. Things you have taught in your home, and things that may just be part of his/her genetics.
It is all important.
If you are not willing to accept that part of your child's life, maybe adoption is not the best choice.
Just a thought.
Some days are good days. And some days you just have to live through. This is my journey through life as a birthmother.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Simply amazing
I read the following blog post last week (Adoptive and birth mom interview) and have not been able to shake it from my mind since then. From the moment I found Amber at Bumber's Bumblings, I knew she was an over the top, unbelievable adoptive mom.
I follow her through blog land and FB and we have since become virtual friends too.
But all weekend I found my mind wandering back to her interview with her child's first mom Ashley. The way they talk about each other. The respect for one another. And the shared love of one little boy who has brought two families together.
There is one line in their interview that just got my heart with a direct hit, it is Amber (adoptive mom) speaking to Ashley (birthmom);
Could you imagine that? An adoptive mom who wants to spend time with her child's birth mother? An adoptive mom who wants her child's birth mother to be the child's caregiver in their absence. An adoptive mom who feels like she tries too hard to be inclusive. The concept nearly brings me to tears right now.
This line was especially poignant to me because of a conversation I had with BF when he and I found out that our daughter's parents were expecting twins just months after adopting our daughter.
He and I were discussing the impact of this on Brit and our future relationship with her parents. BF, being more optimistic than I am with regard to this topic, said to me.. "Wouldn't it be great if some day that would trust us enough to let us watch all of their kids so they could go out and enjoy a night by themselves? Just think, maybe someday they will WANT us to keep Brit so they can have a little time alone."
Now, if you are a reader of my blog, you know that we are no where near this kind of relationship with them. Actually, that is probably an understatement.
But...
When reading Amber's comments about asking Ashley to babysit B, it made me realize this is a possibility with some open adoption relationships. The idea that they go out together as adults (Ashley and Amber) and they have conversations like friends, makes me want to cry tears of joy. What a blessing to B. There is no threat from him loving both of his mothers, because both of his mothers love each other!
I also love the joy that seems to come to both families in this relationship. Not just the moms, but also the extended families.
And it is not just Amber and Ashley who have this type of deep friendship and mutual respect for what each brings to the relationship with the child. I have read several blogs of adoptive moms and first moms who have similar relationships that include the birth family spending alone time with the child, while the parents have some grown up time. A great post to this topic is from Lori titled Returning to the Well.
I think there is great maturity and insight that Lori shares about how her daughter NEEDS time with her birth family. And the time she spends with them is an investment in her well-being.
So for today, that will be my happy thought. There are some amazing adoptive moms out there who not only value the role of their child's birth family, but they also invest in a genuine friendship with the child's other family.
To you amazing mommas, I tip my hat! (and have a whole lot of envy, but that is something I am working on!)
And to my dear sweet Brit, I hope that someday BF and I are in the crowd cheering you on as you dance, sing or play sports. I also hope that someday we can deliver the gifts for you and your siblings, instead of sending them in the mail. We can't wait to be a part of your life!
I follow her through blog land and FB and we have since become virtual friends too.
But all weekend I found my mind wandering back to her interview with her child's first mom Ashley. The way they talk about each other. The respect for one another. And the shared love of one little boy who has brought two families together.
There is one line in their interview that just got my heart with a direct hit, it is Amber (adoptive mom) speaking to Ashley (birthmom);
"I worry that we try to spend too much time with you. I also worry that we ask you to babysit too much, and maybe that is offensive to you."WOAH!!!!
Could you imagine that? An adoptive mom who wants to spend time with her child's birth mother? An adoptive mom who wants her child's birth mother to be the child's caregiver in their absence. An adoptive mom who feels like she tries too hard to be inclusive. The concept nearly brings me to tears right now.
This line was especially poignant to me because of a conversation I had with BF when he and I found out that our daughter's parents were expecting twins just months after adopting our daughter.
He and I were discussing the impact of this on Brit and our future relationship with her parents. BF, being more optimistic than I am with regard to this topic, said to me.. "Wouldn't it be great if some day that would trust us enough to let us watch all of their kids so they could go out and enjoy a night by themselves? Just think, maybe someday they will WANT us to keep Brit so they can have a little time alone."
Now, if you are a reader of my blog, you know that we are no where near this kind of relationship with them. Actually, that is probably an understatement.
But...
When reading Amber's comments about asking Ashley to babysit B, it made me realize this is a possibility with some open adoption relationships. The idea that they go out together as adults (Ashley and Amber) and they have conversations like friends, makes me want to cry tears of joy. What a blessing to B. There is no threat from him loving both of his mothers, because both of his mothers love each other!
I also love the joy that seems to come to both families in this relationship. Not just the moms, but also the extended families.
And it is not just Amber and Ashley who have this type of deep friendship and mutual respect for what each brings to the relationship with the child. I have read several blogs of adoptive moms and first moms who have similar relationships that include the birth family spending alone time with the child, while the parents have some grown up time. A great post to this topic is from Lori titled Returning to the Well.
I think there is great maturity and insight that Lori shares about how her daughter NEEDS time with her birth family. And the time she spends with them is an investment in her well-being.
So for today, that will be my happy thought. There are some amazing adoptive moms out there who not only value the role of their child's birth family, but they also invest in a genuine friendship with the child's other family.
To you amazing mommas, I tip my hat! (and have a whole lot of envy, but that is something I am working on!)
And to my dear sweet Brit, I hope that someday BF and I are in the crowd cheering you on as you dance, sing or play sports. I also hope that someday we can deliver the gifts for you and your siblings, instead of sending them in the mail. We can't wait to be a part of your life!
Friday, May 25, 2012
Choosing to live, despite the grief
I find that I am not visiting blog land very often any more. I have a few blogs I follow that I check in on, but rarely comment anymore. I do love seeing healthy open adoption relationships and I really like watching as so many of you adoptive mothers share and interact with your children's birth families. That part will always bring me joy. So I don't think I will ever stop coming back from time to time to check in on my 'friends'.
With today being the 25th, and holding the knowledge that I will receive a Brit update today, I have reflected about what has changed within me that has altered the way I have been expressing my grief lately. Lack of blogging is visible evidence of this change.
That is not where we are. It is obvious that is not where they want to be right now. That makes me sad. But as hard as I have fought, and the endless tears that I have shed, have not changed a thing. They stand fast in their decision to limit their interaction with us to monthly emails and what appears to be a yearly visit.
But now, instead of crying without ceasing, I find myself thinking that it is a crying shame that this is how things are. Poor Brit is missing out. Even more so, Brit's parents are missing out.
BF and I are really good people. We are fun. We are great parents. We are great aunts and uncles. We are great friends. We even get along with our former spouses. We are the kind of people who care about others and we do what we can to support the people in our lives. We have great kids who would love to know their sister. They would enjoy playing with her and talking with her. They would be so good to her, just as they are so good to their cousins and even the little princess we take care of on the weekends. (The one year old daughter of my friend who chose to parent instead of placing.) Our kids would love a relationship with Brit just as much as we would.
But I that was not our choice. It is theirs alone.
We continue to reach out. And we will continue to reach out.
We will continue to send Brit cards and small gifts. I also think I may start a journal for her, so she knows about what our family was doing while she was growing up somewhere else. I want her to know that we thought about her everywhere we went and in everything we did.
I still cry. I also still wake in the middle of the night with a deep ache that is caused by missing part of my heart. I dream about her. And everywhere I go something reminds me of her.
But I am doing a better job of living. I am allowing myself the freedom to enjoy the children who I am parenting. I don't think I will ever forgive myself for my adoption decision. But, at least I am figuring out a way to keep living despite that regret.
Sometimes I even catch myself thinking about how great it will be to someday have a relationship with a daughter who is old enough to choose to have her own relationship with us. I pray that the desire in her heart to know us will be as great as the desire we have to know her. And I hope that her genetics will have created a heart in her that is like mine, a heart that will bring her back to us.
So today I will wait. Because for a few moments today I will get to read about what is she is doing now, and see a new picture or two of what she looks like now. BF and I will talk about how adorable she is and marvel at her newest accomplishments. And I will cry.
Then, I will get up and go tend to the children I have in my house. Because I have to keep living.
Here are a few pics of the life we have had lately...
| Explaining to BF that he had just arrived home to a huge surprise 40th bday party in his honor |
| BF and me in the kitchen at his party |
| Fun times on the trampoline |
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| Me and the princess at one of the boy's soccer games |
| Lisa and BF having fun dressing princess up |
| Pretty Easter dress |
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| Embarrassing my son by wearing a hat at his baseball tournament |
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| Me and BF walking along the strip in Vegas last weekend (terrible picture, great memory) |
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Words to write upon my heart
I know I have not posted in a long time. I have unfinished posts waiting to be published. I just have not been here in the blog world. I have instead been present in the REAL world. Which is a good place to be.
But today I just had to share. I read the following words on a Caring Bridge page for a little girl (who I do not know, but have prayed for) who has been battling a brain tumor that just won't stay away. Her mother's posts are unbelievable testaments to grief, hope and above all else, faith in her Savior.
Her words today are in response to the fact that they just finished the last chemo treatment for her now 6 year old daughter. And now they wait. The cancer that appears to be gone right now, will come back again. It has done it before. This cancer has a 0-5% survival rate. Yes, that is right. Her daughter will not grow up. She will not ever become the amazing adult that we all envision our child to become. Someday in the near future her daughter will be fighting cancer again, and will likely not live through it.
How do you live with impending grief like that?
These words that she speaks at the end of her most recent post hit me like a ton of bricks. Not only in response to how it applies to their situation, but I also don't think I could have heard words that are more appropriate to my situation.
Like me, she is grieving the loss of a child who is still alive. But unfortunately, our situations will have a much different ending. I have hope for the future with my daughter. This mother's joy lies in the here and now (and ultimately in eternal reunification in heaven). This mom has numbered days left with her daughter here on earth. Yet what she says should be words that we all write upon our hearts.
"So that is the ugly reality of the disease. Even with last doses of drugs, there is the not so subtle angst of the unknown. I could leave it there, ask for pity and forever morn that life will never be the same. Because it won't. But here is what I am painstakingly finding. Joy can come again. Jesus can interlace moments of peace and deep joy amidst our biggest heartaches.
I still struggle with this journey we are on. Don't know that I ever wont. But it reminds me to live a little more reckless for the things I believe in, and to hold loosely that which can't last. And to realize that our journey might look altogether different than someones else's. And rather than look enviously at theirs, find how we can live fully in ours."
-Holly Mcrae
from post titled the last dose... at Kate Mcrae's Caring Bridge
But today I just had to share. I read the following words on a Caring Bridge page for a little girl (who I do not know, but have prayed for) who has been battling a brain tumor that just won't stay away. Her mother's posts are unbelievable testaments to grief, hope and above all else, faith in her Savior.
Her words today are in response to the fact that they just finished the last chemo treatment for her now 6 year old daughter. And now they wait. The cancer that appears to be gone right now, will come back again. It has done it before. This cancer has a 0-5% survival rate. Yes, that is right. Her daughter will not grow up. She will not ever become the amazing adult that we all envision our child to become. Someday in the near future her daughter will be fighting cancer again, and will likely not live through it.
How do you live with impending grief like that?
These words that she speaks at the end of her most recent post hit me like a ton of bricks. Not only in response to how it applies to their situation, but I also don't think I could have heard words that are more appropriate to my situation.
Like me, she is grieving the loss of a child who is still alive. But unfortunately, our situations will have a much different ending. I have hope for the future with my daughter. This mother's joy lies in the here and now (and ultimately in eternal reunification in heaven). This mom has numbered days left with her daughter here on earth. Yet what she says should be words that we all write upon our hearts.
"So that is the ugly reality of the disease. Even with last doses of drugs, there is the not so subtle angst of the unknown. I could leave it there, ask for pity and forever morn that life will never be the same. Because it won't. But here is what I am painstakingly finding. Joy can come again. Jesus can interlace moments of peace and deep joy amidst our biggest heartaches.
I still struggle with this journey we are on. Don't know that I ever wont. But it reminds me to live a little more reckless for the things I believe in, and to hold loosely that which can't last. And to realize that our journey might look altogether different than someones else's. And rather than look enviously at theirs, find how we can live fully in ours."
-Holly Mcrae
from post titled the last dose... at Kate Mcrae's Caring Bridge
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Keep your open adoption alive and positive by keeping your promises
I smiled today as I saw a picture of an Easter care package that Lindsey sent to her children's birth families this year. The personal items she includes just melt my heart.
The time and thought she puts into all of the care packages she sends to her children's first families simply amazes me. Lindsey is that super mom you want so badly to hate because her awesomeness just doesn't seem attainable. (Sorry Lindsey if you are reading this. But it's true.)
Lindsey obviously has the spiritual gift of GIFT GIVING. So I comfort myself knowing that my spiritual gifts are different (SERVICE is mine).
But anyway...
Here is what I loved about her post today. She posts pictures about her care packages as a way to encourage adoptive parents to consider doing something similar so that their child's first families will feel valued and loved.
She closes her blog post today with this line. I have underlined my very favorite part of it that I think could stand alone, without any reference to gift giving.
"I hope this gives you some ideas (pin it for next year!) and encourages you to keep your open adoption alive and positive by keeping your promises."
I wish every potential adoptive parent was required to spend time in counseling with adoptive mothers like her. The adoption world would be a much better place.
The time and thought she puts into all of the care packages she sends to her children's first families simply amazes me. Lindsey is that super mom you want so badly to hate because her awesomeness just doesn't seem attainable. (Sorry Lindsey if you are reading this. But it's true.)
Lindsey obviously has the spiritual gift of GIFT GIVING. So I comfort myself knowing that my spiritual gifts are different (SERVICE is mine).
But anyway...
Here is what I loved about her post today. She posts pictures about her care packages as a way to encourage adoptive parents to consider doing something similar so that their child's first families will feel valued and loved.
She closes her blog post today with this line. I have underlined my very favorite part of it that I think could stand alone, without any reference to gift giving.
"I hope this gives you some ideas (pin it for next year!) and encourages you to keep your open adoption alive and positive by keeping your promises."
I wish every potential adoptive parent was required to spend time in counseling with adoptive mothers like her. The adoption world would be a much better place.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
A great article about why open adoption is important
Please take a minute to read this. Marisa is so succinct. She absolutely GETS open adoption and why it matters for her kids.
Still here, and even happy
Looking back, most of my posts are melancholy at best.
But, since this is my adoption blog, and my experiences with adoption have been difficult for me to process, it is probably understandable.
I am finding that when I am quiet in the blogosphere, it is mostly because I am so busy in real life, that I don't take time to blog.
That is true now.
The boys are keeping us exceedingly busy with their sports schedules. BF and I are preparing his house for our permanent family blending (read - trying to finish the basement in 1 hour increments of time). And work always keeps us busy. That busyness is a good thing when it comes to dealing with my adoption loss. It keeps the mind working on other things, and keeps me from diving into those deep, dark places of grief.
My happy thought for the week has been that we are expecting our Shu.tterf.ly book to arrive in the mail any day now. I created a photo book of our visit with Brit so we could have it at our house. It was fun to make and now I can't wait to share it with our kiddos.
I had created and ordered a Pic.aboo photo book for Brit right after her visit. It had already delivered to our house and we mailed it with an Easter card to her last week. We also included cards and small Easter books for each of the twins.
Last night I was telling BF that our book should be here any day and he was almost as anxious to get it as I am. Then, I said something very catty, which in retrospect wasn't very nice, albeit true. I looked at him and said "I'm so surprised Brit's parents haven't emailed us to thank us for the Easter package we sent them." To which he and I both exchanged knowing glances and we both chuckled.
I share this only to say, at least I can laugh now. We have resigned ourselves to knowing this is how our relationship works, and so when things that hurt come up, instead of fighting it, we try to laugh it off since we know that we can't change it and we must accept it at face value.
But, since this is my adoption blog, and my experiences with adoption have been difficult for me to process, it is probably understandable.
I am finding that when I am quiet in the blogosphere, it is mostly because I am so busy in real life, that I don't take time to blog.
That is true now.
The boys are keeping us exceedingly busy with their sports schedules. BF and I are preparing his house for our permanent family blending (read - trying to finish the basement in 1 hour increments of time). And work always keeps us busy. That busyness is a good thing when it comes to dealing with my adoption loss. It keeps the mind working on other things, and keeps me from diving into those deep, dark places of grief.
My happy thought for the week has been that we are expecting our Shu.tterf.ly book to arrive in the mail any day now. I created a photo book of our visit with Brit so we could have it at our house. It was fun to make and now I can't wait to share it with our kiddos.
I had created and ordered a Pic.aboo photo book for Brit right after her visit. It had already delivered to our house and we mailed it with an Easter card to her last week. We also included cards and small Easter books for each of the twins.
Last night I was telling BF that our book should be here any day and he was almost as anxious to get it as I am. Then, I said something very catty, which in retrospect wasn't very nice, albeit true. I looked at him and said "I'm so surprised Brit's parents haven't emailed us to thank us for the Easter package we sent them." To which he and I both exchanged knowing glances and we both chuckled.
I share this only to say, at least I can laugh now. We have resigned ourselves to knowing this is how our relationship works, and so when things that hurt come up, instead of fighting it, we try to laugh it off since we know that we can't change it and we must accept it at face value.
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