18
2013
Reblogged from thelifeilive89 :
I first found this saying in my sons home; on some of our very first visits in that little duplex across the street from that little park. I fell in love the moment I read it. That family truly didn’t have it all when they went through the pain of not being able to conceive, but choosing to stick beside each other day in and day out. They choose to live their lives as an amazing couple and never give up on one another. They choose to put one foot in front of another and walk each day hand in hand. They knew that no matter what life brought to them; they would always have it all; together. Their strength and courage is one of the many amazing things I live for each day and remind myself of just how lucky I am to be a part of this family. I could go on for hours; on how I truly feel about this entire family and their little ones; but I wont cause I know deep down they know I admire them for every strength and weakness they have as human beings. Thank you for always being yourself and never giving up on this give and take kinda world. <3
This was written by Jack’s birth mom…
Just when I think we couldn’t be any luckier to share our son with her, she goes and does something like this.
We love you to the moon and back, sweet girl. You helped give us our All and you will always be a part of this family.
3
2013
In 1913 a house was built, and the front of the house had a little porch. Years went by, the house was expanded and the little front porch was turned into an itsy bitsy room off the kitchen.
Shortly after we were married we bought the quirky farmhouse. The tiny room serving as a cozy breakfast nook with perfect morning sun. Until one morning, a plus sign on a stick had me overjoyed, slightly nauseous, and daydreaming about a little nursery.
But in the blink of an eye, the baby was gone and for the next two and a half years my heart, and the room, were vacant.
And then, in the midst of struggle and unimaginable yearning, a phone call changed everything. A woman made a brave choice and we would finally be parents.
The room, once again, was entered with delight and hope. Windows were cleaned, walls were painted and a crib and changing table were wedged in the rooms tiny corners.
A baby came and filled the room with happiness. A year flew by and another baby came home. The babies grew and the room, the entire house, was bursting with color and noise and abundant joy.
We no longer live in the quirky little farmhouse and have put it up for sale. I’m happy our lives have sent us in a new direction, but each time I show the house, I can’t help but feel pangs in my heart. Those walls are painted with our history. Our tears and our laughter still live in its nooks and crannies.
Yesterday I was putting clothes away in the kid’s rooms and I paused to look around. Not glance as I hustled through things, like I tend to do, but really look. I saw blankets with frayed edges from hundreds of nights wrapped around tiny bodies. I saw perfect little handprints on the windows from two children always dying to know what’s going on in the world around them. I realized that we have already started to paint these walls with our stories. That, in our short time here, our laughter has found the nooks and crannies to permanently reside in.
As cliche as it sounds, it was a nice reminder that home is where the heart is. Home isn’t defined by an address. It is defined by the love and the life that seep into its walls.
I will miss the quirky little farmhouse…But I’ve taken the best parts of it with me.
28
2012
an open adoption to be proud of.
I will always openly admit that I was terrified of having an open adoption in the beginning. I wanted to be the mommy and didn’t want to share. I was worried he would love her more.
Jack was born, we all signed papers, life moved forward and I was quick to realize how foolish my fears had been. He was my son…and her son. The pieces all fell into place and over the years we have become a family that I am extremely grateful for.
As he has gotten older we have read books about adoption and mentioned it a few times. However, we have been careful not to press the issue until the time was right. Jack is a very verbal child and I knew he would talk about it when he was ready.
Today at lunch he must have felt ready. Gigi was mentioning someone we know who is pregnant and Jack piped up and said “I didn’t grow in Mommy’s tummy”. I asked who’s tummy he grew in and he replied correctly. He then said “So, she’s my real mom”.
Five years ago, in the midst of heartbreak, that statement might have broken me.
Today, I smiled and told him that he was super lucky because he has two mommies that love him more than anything in the world. That she is his birth mom and I’m his forever mommy. That he grew in her tummy and in my heart at the same time. He said he really liked her and I assured him that was good.
I told him there are lots of different ways to make of family. None of them wrong, as long as you are safe and loved.
He smiled happily and then went back to his pasta.
Today I feel proud. Proud of the woman who made him and selflessly gave him to us. Proud of us for knowing there was room in our hearts, not only for him, but for her too. And most of all, proud of the amazing little boy we’ve raised.
16
2012
This is me, four years ago today. Judging by my 3:00am thumbs up and grin, I clearly had no idea what I was in for…
Four years ago today I felt strange. I was a few weeks away from my due date and showing no signs of labor, but I felt different. I felt ready.
Four years ago today I was complaining in a restaurant. We were out with friends and they were all gently trying to tell me to buck up. That I still had some time.
And then we went home, I took a drink to quench my thirst, coughed and my water broke.
The next 18 hours are kind of a blur….and then out she came.
Out came the daughter that had previously only lived in my dreams. Out came the daughter they all said I would never carry. Out came the sister we thought Jack would never have. Out came Gigi.
She has been an electric force in all our lives since the minute she was born. She is feisty, vivacious, stubborn and beautiful in every way.
Gigi is a miracle. She completed our family and I’m thankful for her every single day.
14
2012
Jack’s Birth Mom On His Adoption: Five Years Later
*This is a post that Jack’s birth mother wrote on his fifth birthday. I love her honesty and I love her. She says her only regret was not having us in the room when he was born…This sweet girl let us be in the room throughout early labor. We left for her to sleep and push, that’s really about it. We came in the room immediately after he came out and she sat in her hospital bed and watched as I held him first, gave him his first bath, his first bottle, his first kisses. There should be no regrets about that. She is amazing and we are forever grateful.
Where has time gone…
Five years ago today I gave birth to the sweetest boy in the whole world. Although I miss him every single day of my life; and not a day goes by that I don’t watch him grow up in another families arms… I wouldn’t change the choice I made for the life of any of us; adoption.
I will never forget the day I was told I was 39 weeks pregnant and due in the next two days. I look back now and deep down knew I was pregnant; but never realized how far along I really was…
The next day I ended up meeting with an adoption counselor and choosing the most amazing family in the world. We met the next day and I fell completely in love… That was after I was so scared I thought I was going to vomit on myself. I thought they’d dislike me, not like my looks, body figure, the way I talked, how I was raised, I just felt like I’d be judged from head to toe and they’d decide because of that; they didn’t want to adopt him. That never happened.
To this day I cannot describe just how I truly feel about them; and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able too. Two weeks later; I gave birth. I only had one person in the room with me; my life long best friend… If I could go back and change that and allow them to be in the room; I would. That is the ONLY regret I have to this day. They waited patiently outside; and never looked down upon me for the choice I made by not having them in there.
The first two years of his life were by far the hardest. I was processing the fact that I would always be the “2nd mom” in his life; or maybe he’d never know who I was. Although it is an open adoption and we agreed to 4 visits a year… I knew deep down, I’d never pursue those visits if it didn’t come naturally. All I did know is I had signed away my first child; that I loved more than life itself; to a family I really knew nothing about; in hopes of them raising him to be a respectful, caring and loving young man.
During those two years; they also gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. They were told they’d never be able to have children and tried for SO long before they adopted. When I received this news on one of our visits; which were still new to all of us… It was the hardest thing I thought I’d ever hear. I was so scared they’d love her more, they’d treat her better and give her so much more because she was “theirs”.
At this time I started to open up to a couple of people about how I was feeling towards everything, they reassured me that they would NEVER treat her any differently… I look back three years ago; and feel beyond selfish for ever thinking that.
Visits started becoming more of “our” thing; although I still always took someone with me, just in case I’d have a hard time with it after the visit. When I’d leave from visiting with them for the day, running around with their children, laughing, going to the amazing little cafe down the road, or helping him ride his bike down the path; or swinging with her on the swings, running beside her as she learned to ride her bike… It all started to come together as a “family”.
We started having more regular visits. I started learning so much about what I had missed in the last two years. How far each child had come. They started recognizing me when I’d come over; instead of the lady who just popped in and out every once in awhile. They wanted to share so much with me, from their toys to what they learned in school that week. I felt like I finally fit in to where it was never going to be awkward again.
Last year I was invited to his fourth birthday party; the joy, excitement, and the vomiting on myself all rushed back inside of me. I didn’t know how it was going to be when I showed up; what was the family going to say? Were they planning on talking to me about everything, or pushing me aside?
I walked in the front door; all heads turned I knew deep down everyone who knew; knew who I was. For the first time I felt okay, I knew I belonged and every single one of them enjoyed me being there. One walked up to me; looked me in the eyes, hugged me and whispered “thank you”. I was at a loss of words. Nothing came out. So if you ever happen to read this, I want to say: “No, Thank you.” I left that day and had the reassurance that every single worry I had, big or small; never needed to be a worry of mine again. Did it take me four years to realize this? Yes. Am I ashamed of that? No. Am I still healing in ways? Absolutely. Will I always be healing in some way? Most likely.
The end of summer neared this year, and I finished it off with a sleep over at their house. The kids were SO excited; I’m sure along with all us adults, but who’d admit that? We played, rode bikes, went on a walk, he picked his way out of the raspberries at the school, went to the most amazing hamburger shop ever, watched people jump off cliffs with parachutes, talked about what adoption meant and all he could say about it was “it’s so awesome!”, picked blackberries at their grandparents house, and had story time before bed.
Did I ever imagine being here five years ago? No. I am beyond thankful for everything they’ve done for not only him, but for myself as well. I loved/love this little man so much; I wanted/want him to have the world… Be spoiled rotten, and I knew five years ago, that’s something I’d never be able to offer him. Even though some days I had second thoughts; I know now… I made the right choice for him, and I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
“We may not have it all together; but together we have it all”
1
2012
National Adoption Awareness Month.
Five years ago our lives were changed forever when a courageous woman loved her son more than herself and gave him up for adoption.
November is National Adoption Awareness Month.
If anyone has any questions about domestic open adoption please don’t hesitate to ask. I will leave the anonymous option on and nothing is off limits.
3
2012
Once upon a time there were two children.
They grew in different mothers…but were clearly meant to be together.
14
2012
This is Mable. Mable is our dog.
She was an impulse purchase. And by purchase, I mean that we took her out of a chicken coop in a yard that was also home to four Subaru Brats.
She came home with us in a moment of Oh-My-God-I-Can’t-Have-A-Baby-Maybe-A-Puppy-Will-Fix-My-Broken-Heart.
Mable hasn’t always been a good dog. In fact, at one point I would have classified her as a terrible dog. But we stuck with her. And she stuck with us.
And now here we are, almost seven years later, with the greatest dog ever.
30
2012
Asked by mymarvelousdaughterandson:
What is your favorite tumblr post that you posted originally?
I love this question because it sent me back to my archives and down memory lane.
I decided that this was my favorite because it was the first really personal post I put on Tumblr. I was so worried that having the birthmother/forever family conversation would be confusing or upsetting to Jack and you know what he said the first time we explained it? He said “that’s awesome”. We are so lucky to have this little boy and the birthmom that made him in our lives.
A Tale of Two Mommies:
My little boy is getting so big. He knows all his letters, he can count to 20, he can dress himself (I have no idea if all newly made 3 year olds can do this or not but I’m naturally assuming he is brilliant). And while each new day brings a glorious discovery it also brings anxiety for me.
Jack has reached the age where he knows that babies grow in bellies. Which means that he has started asking questions about him growing in a belly. Which means it’s time to start explaining to him that he didn’t grow in my belly.
I’ve known this conversation was coming all along. I’ve read eighty bazillion books about it. I’ve asked every person I can hunt down that is adopted or has adopted children about it. I’ve practiced it in my head and occasionally out loud. The books, the people and my inner monologue all tell me it is going to be okay. That doesn’t make it any easier.
I love my son so much it hurts. I have loved him from the minute he was born and I know without a doubt I was meant to be his mother. I am his mother…but so is another woman.
Sometimes I think selfish thoughts. Pretending I gave birth to him. Pondering the idea that maybe his birthmother doesn’t have to exist. Wondering how easy it would be if we never had to talk about it. These thoughts are fleeting though and I would never act of them for two reasons. The woman and my son.
There is not an adequate word in the English language to describe his birthmother. Selfless is silly. Giving is a slap in the face. Maybe if you took altruistic, chivalrous, charitable, magnanimous, loving and noble and mashed them up you might be getting close, but not really.
I have no doubt that she considered keeping him. That she wanted him. That she loved him. She did it anyway. She did it because she loved him so much and she couldn’t give him the life he deserved at that point. She wanted him to have to world.
I can’t even fathom the courage it would take to make a decision like that.
So when I start having the selfish thoughts I think of her. I think of everything she has been through. I think of what must go through her head. Our choices mold our lives forever and her choice gave us the family I never thought we would have.
I am Jack’s mother. I will always be his mother and no one can take that from me. She is his mother too and no one can take that from her. This is Jack’s story, his history, his life and I hope someday he is so proud of the choices we all made for him.
So I will once again bust out the books, hunt down adopted friends and let the voices in my head run free. Anxiety move aside. It might get bumpy but it’s going to be okay.
24
2012
Attention: This Just In
It’s National Ask-A-Mediocre-Parent Day.
Okay, I made that up. But here’s the thing, I always see all you cool cat bloggers asking each other questions and I’m a little jealous. Isn’t everyone just dying to know what a very average mother thinks about things?
Come on. Humor me. Anon is on if you’re feeling shy.
Theme by Lauren Ashpole
