River's Choice

I follow a blog on RSS Feed that is actually a series of comics written by Jess and Bert who are both Vietnamese adult adoptees. It is called Adopted the Comic. I love their comic/blog for so many reasons but first and foremost because it is such a huge relief as a voracious reader of the adoption blogosphere to have a place where we can go to laugh together. So much of what I read is gut wrenching, educational, sometimes accusatory and almost always emotionally taxing. Nothing is wrong with that. That is what I want. I want to learn. But I want to laugh, too. Laughter has mighty powers of healing and teaching, too. If humor was a drug I would be considered an addict :)

One of their most recent comics brought up a great question for me to consider and for you to consider if you are interested. (Note: this is a fun experiment even if you aren't an adoptive parent) Check it out here:

If Adoptees Could Choose

If the choice of adoptive parents was in the hands of adoptees how different would their adoptive parents look? For non-adoptive parents, if the choice of parents was in the hands of the child how different would their parents look? Because, really this question could be asked of any child. What choice did any of us have in who our parents are? In adoption, though, there is that period of time where the range of possible parents is almost infinite.

So, what do I think River's choice of adoptive parents would look like? Right now I think he would prefer adoptive parents that wouldn't foil his mischievous shenanigans, would allow him to destroy any laptop he so chose, would allow him to stay up all night and drink caffeinated beverages all day, and would let him live outside permanently, feral.

As he gets older I imagine he may wish his adoptive parents were more affluent than we are, didn't sing silly songs in public that embarass him, didn't insist on always eating whole, unprocessed, organic food because his friends totally aren't into that "stupid green stuff" and make fun of his packed lunches, played the sports he is interested in so that we could teach him to excel in them just like us, weren't LDS because it ain't no Sunday Only religion and some people think we are weird and part of a cult.

As he starts to process his adoptee status and what that means for him as he develops his identity what characteristics will be the most important to him? Would he prefer to have adoptive parents that could afford to send him to any college of his choice? Would he prefer to have adoptive parents with a large family so that he can have many siblings to play with and share his childhood with? Would he prefer those siblings to be adopted as well? Would he prefer to have adoptive parents that can afford to take him around the world so he has a more rounded view of world politics and the importance of diversity? Or will the simple things like letting him stay up late and eat fast food have the most importance to him? I don't really know yet. He is still too young to have any preference, really. But it is an interesting question to continue to ask myself throughout my journey as a parent. I think it just may be a great way to reevaluate my course and determine if I'm headed in the right direction. No, I'm not going to let him get away with murder, but I do want to be the adoptive mother he needs and would want me to be.

Here are some other great comics from the same site:

Parental Worries - My FAVORITE. Because while I know that adoption involves loss and grief it is comforting to know that I'm not the only category of parent that wonders if their child's behavior is a sign that I effed up. And I love the "Hey, as parents we are all going to eff up in some way or another so get over yourself!" message at the end.

Greatest Fear - Bert says in the written part of the post: "... this one comes from what seems to be a huge fear and elephant in the room for adoptive parents in that they fear having the conversation about adoption with their adopted kiddo(s). It’s almost like the “sex” talk (and if you think about it, you have to have the sex talk to have the adopted talk, so you should all think about that!).

Parents are always scared of it, probably because it’s new to them. But the funny thing is, for us adoptees, it just is. We don’t know any different and secretly chuckle at the fear. 'Hey, we’re adopted. Cool. Can I go back to playing video games now?'"

Arizona - Whether you agree with the way Arizona has decided to deal with illegal immigration or not you can't deny this is funny :)

Thankful Thursday

Today I have picked two things to sing my public praises for:

The Book of Luke - Yes, Luke as in the Apostle who's book is one of the Four Canonical Gospels in that old book that calls itself the New Testament. The same Book of Luke that begins with the most famous telling of Christ's birth (Luke 2:1-20). I decided to read the whole book this month and it has single handedly saved my grinchy heart this season.

It also starts out with one of my [least] favorite topics. Infertility! It tells of Elisabeth and her husband Zacharias and their struggles with infertility. In case you aren't hip to it, Elisabeth is the mother of John the Baptist and cousin of Mary, the mother of Jesus. How much would it have sucked if she didn't get pregnant with John prior to Mary getting pregnant with Jesus? Nothing like being "well stricken with years" and "barren" (Luke 1:7) and finding out your underage cousin is pregnant out of wedlock :) I tease, I tease!

Curious George the show on PBS Kids - I rely on this crazy little monkey every morning for 30 minutes of uninterrupted time to make progress towards getting myself and River out the door. River is still not all that interested in TV but will drop everything to watch Curious George run amok. And he'll laugh and point at George throughout the entire show. It is just one big, 30 minute ball of productivity and cuteness :)

Gratuitous Cuteness.

Lately I haven't had many photos on my blog. Partly because I have been talking more often about adoption in general. And partly because this is what the majority of the photos I take look like these days:

No, I'm not referring to the Beiber hair he's rocking. I'm reffering to the fact that I generally have 2 seconds to snap a picture of him before he melts down. Apparently, in his little 2 year old mind any moment involving a camera where he is not allowed free reign to bang it against the nearest hard surface or browse through stored pictures laughing his cute little fake laugh like he is recalling great times - is pure, gut wrenching, agonizing torture.

Note: In case you were wondering, yes, he is wearing my earings.

Luckily this weekend the camera gods smiled down on us and we were able to capture this gem:

Note: Before you scoff at me for teaching my son such bad manners I assure you though I did teach him to laugh when someone toots or burps he came up with this one all on his own. He doesn't even like milk! I guess milk straight from the jug tastes better?

We were also able get some great professional photos with Gina and my Mom. Here is one to preview but I encourage you to click here to see the rest on her blog. I even make an appearance in a couple of the pictures :)

Note: I learned this weekend that it is not advisable to put a tight stocking cap on your son's head prior to a photography session. Even if he is begging you to because he thinks the doggy on it is hilarious. Unless of course you want his hair to be immortalized (along with your shame) looking all a ragamuffin in the pictures.

"Perhaps our eyes need to be worked by our tears once in a while so that we can see life with a clearer view again." ~unknown

Adoption Free and Funny Friday: Where does he come up with these things?

Every day on at least a few occasions I find myself with the overwhelming urge to climb into River's brain and figure out how it works. The way he works through things, what makes sense to him and what does not is almost an obsession of mine.

One of the things that River has struggled with has been language skills. He started out early with words like "light" and "kitty" at 11 months old. Then around 13 months he abandoned them in lieu of finger pointing and grunts. I don't blame him I mean really when you have two people hovering over you meeting your every need why bother with words? I'm sure any great king or pharoh would be able to tell you that.

Luckily over the past 6 months he has been slowly but surely working his way back into the speaking world. And I have found myself obsessed with the words he chooses to pick up on. Words that describe the things he loves like dog/doggie, car, or train hold no interest to him. Instead he prefers words like bubble, Ammon (the name of his nanny's dog), and tree. Monday he just randomly started saying the word "shoe." Then yesterday he started saying this gem...

boob

Yes, you read that correctly. He has started saying boob and is fully aware of what the word means. How do I know this? Oh, perhaps it is because he says the word over and over again while running after me with his finger pointed out trying to poke me in the...

boob

One might think that the word boob would rarely be used in daily conversation for a child to pick up on. Apparently, though, we must use boob quite often. I guess I have already written it 5 times in one sitting. Really it has to be one of the funniest words in the English language.

And I suppose he is a boy and all. But does the obsession have to start THIS early?

Boobies!

Adopt. Adopted. Adoption.

According to dictionary.com the word "Adopt" has 6 definitions. Only one of which is specifically related to the adoption that I write about. This wasn't surprising. I find that the word is used often in conversation but rarely (outside of the adoption blogosphere, of course!) in the same context as the adoption that I write about.

For me, though, it has and only will ever have one meaning. And everytime I read or hear the word spoken, regardless of the context, it always brings with it that rainbow of emotion I feel about my only definition of adoption.

I know I'm not alone. And I know adopt. adopted. and adoption aren't the only words that society uses nonchalantly while for some of us our stomachs are left in flips. If anyone is interested in sharing I would love to hear what words have a similar effect on you.

Examples of other words that work me over similarly: Pregnant. Miscarriage.

And to a lesser extent: Fertile. Birth.

Adoption ain't for sissies...

Perhaps I shouldn't have set out to post exclusively about adoption this month. Or to post more often than usual. Because apparently my lazy, stubborn self has reared her ugly head and has brought my posting to a screaching halt. I have many posts written. None are complete. Generally when I get 50-75% complete I give up because it is too time consuming or emotionally exhausting or I convince myself it isn't good enough. Today, though, I think I may just be able to see this one through!

Thanks to some great comments from Kelsey and Reena I have been following several new blogs. One of which is Melissa's blog Yoon's Blur. She has also recently joined the Grown in My Heart team and posted her first contribution today called "Your child may grow up to be a lot like me (and that’s not such an awful thing)." I was very moved by what she had to say and wanted to encourage all adoptive parents to read the whole article and share a few of my favorite quotes here.

Her article addresses the issues behind much of the fighting that goes on amongst members of the adoption triad. This immediately caught my attention because I believe one of the biggest obstacles in adoption reform is that we in the adoption triad do not necessarily work well as a team. We have an extensive history of suppressing and remaining indifferent to each other's feelings to the point that we have splintered into thousands of adoption protestant groups that believe only the group we belong to has the full truth. This is not the case. The full truth can only be determined on an individual basis. And the truth of one does not invalidate the truth of another. In her article Melissa reiterates this fact often and appeals to adoptive parents (because the overwhelming majority of the blame and the ability to fix the problem rests on our shoulders) to not be so quick to dismiss the voices of adoptees that don't tow the line as "angry" or "ungreatful." She says of this:

"You (adoptive parents) shouldn’t fear that your children could one day grow up to be a little or a lot like one of us. Rather, your focus should be to be there no matter what your children may feel, no matter what conclusions they may reach. The goal is not to groom a certain outcome in your adopted child, but rather to provide the environment and relationship that will enable and empower your children to become the adults that they will inevitably be. The point is not to control the situation and outcome but to provide the freedom for your children to find their own way."

and

"...adoptive parents would benefit from realizing that adult adoptees as a whole represent the different adults your own children may grow up to be one day. Such a realization should have real effects on the way you view and treat adult adoptees. This realization, however, should not send you into a panicked frenzy of fearful anticipation. By doing so, you’re completely missing the point—you hopefully want to raise an adopted child who grows up to be a critically thinking, well-informed, emotionally mature adopted adult not afraid to question the status quo while living a full and meaningful life, right?"

I needed to hear this. I fully admit that I am fearful of how my son will cope with adoption in his life. And I'm afraid of how that fear may limit my ability to be there to support him in his struggles to define himself as an individual. I am human. We are all human. And the irony is that at the heart of the reason we all fight amongst ourselves in the adoption triad is fear. Fear of the rejection that brought us to the adoption triangle in the first place. Regardless, I realized after reading this article that in my fear I am missing the point that Melissa makes in her article. Above all I want my son to grow up to be a "critically thinking, well-informed, emotionally mature adopted adult not afraid to question the status quo while living a full and meaningful life." More so than I want him to find peace in adoption. So, my actions and reactions need to show that. To my son and to all adoptees.

Hopefully if we adoptive parents can face our fears and work together with first parents and adoptees we can do a lot of healing and also be taken seriously in our call for adoption reform in a society that, at best, sees adoption as a great basis for a horror movie, the butt of a joke, or a tear jerking story to flaunt in the media and at worst sees it as a large unregulated market to try to work to get rich.

p.s. It ended up taking me 2 days to get this one out!

They do not love that do not show their love.

Ahhh, William, is there any time in life when wisdom cannot be plucked from your tales of joy, sorrow and comedy in iambic pentameter? Alas, nay!

I do love lots and so I want to show my love by giving thanks to Kelsey for featuring my blog last week. Click here to check it out. It is such a great honor. Am I the only one that gets all giddy with excitement when a blogger I follow and admire returns the love? It seriously makes my week/month/year :)

Thank you Kelsey and thank you to all who have visited my blog, commented and thought me worth while to follow along. You've all made my week/month/year!

"They do not love that do not show their love."

~ William Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen from Verona

Passing the buck

Many of the blogs I follow have joined Kelsey's Blogger's Unite Group and I am finding that as I read their contributions I'm back to feeling like Moses. I was gung-ho in the beginning and now I've almost got myself convinced that anything I have to say pales in comparison so I should just stop posting and focus on reading. But, that thought really isn't a bad place to start a post with so here goes...

As I mentioned before my perception has changed quite a bit since Cory and I began our adoption journey almost 3 years ago. Because my son is too young to have developed or defined his thoughts and feelings on adoption and because I fully understand that Angie probably doesn't feel comfortable being 100% honest with me about her feelings I have sought out the blogs of those who can be fully honest with their readers since their readers are not part of their adoption triangle. I want to understand (to the best of my ability) what the view looks like from the other two sides of the triangle. I feel that doing so is ESSENTIAL/MANDATORY/IMPERATIVE for my journey to being the best adoptive mom I can be.

For this post I'd like to share with you the firstparent and adoptee blogs that I have found to be priceless along my journey. I encourage you to check out each and every one if you are a member of the adoption triangle, you know someone who is a member of the adoption triangle, or if you simply know what the word adoption means :) I have decided not to add descriptions or my personal thoughts on each of the blogs simply because you'd eventually get sick of my excessive use of words like "thought provoking", "amazing", "brilliant", etc.

First Parent Blogs

A Birth Mother Voice

birthmomtalks

Coming Clean: Confessions of a Secret Birthmom

Confessions of a Mean Girl Turned Mommy - Sadly Jenni closed down her blog but I did want to give her props here because I really loved her blog and thought she had great thoughts to share.

I Should Really be Working

It's Just One Hat

Lia, not Juno - An expecting mother planning to place her son in an open adoption

Not Quite Juno. My Adoption Story

Statistically Impossible - Just want to note that this is the blog of a first daddy!

The Modern Birthmom

Adoptee Blogs

Adopted - The Comic

Adoption of Jane UG-Lbc

John Raible Online

The Declassified Adoptee

Wow, not until I just listed all of the adoptee blogs that I follow did I realize how puny it is! If anyone has any suggestions of adoptee blogs to add to my list please leave links or names in a comment. And in general if you feel the list of blogs I follow is lacking please let me know. I'm always looking for more great blogs!

Thank you to all of the authors of these wonderful blogs and to everyone else, happy reading!

A funny thing happened on my morning run...

This morning at 5:30 am I donned my fall running gear to go running one last time before I take on the monster of a half marathon this weekend. With the shortening of the days I have had to modify my training runs from a beautiful course that took me along a scenic canal to running laps around our local park. Not as pretty but safer being that it is lighted.


As I ran this morning I noticed the local paper dispensory along side the path. Usually I don't hardly give it a glance but like any good voter living in what was considered a swing state I was dying to know the results of yesterday's midterm elections. While I expected that the results of the Bennett v. Buck Senatorial race would be splashed on the front page I saw instead that the judge that had finalized our adoption earlier this year had been removed from his seat. Not for adoption reasons. He is a judge for the juvenile court system. Adoption is only a small portion of what he does on a daily basis. But for some reason I immediately stopped running and began to cry. I cried because I really liked him. He was very respectful of the gravity of his ruling that day. I cried because I felt like a part of my son's history had been lost. I cried because I've found that in adoption when we get in the in the trenches together, no matter for how brief a time, we develop deep bonds and once you've become a member of my adoption "circle of trust" I'll remain loyal for life.

Bloggers Unite: November is National Adoption Month

To honor National Adoption Month in November, Kelsey, of A Birth Mother Voice started a group on Bloggers Unite to create awareness for the need of adoption reform. In this post she asked participaters to kick off the month by: "[writing] a post about what you would like to say about adoption, or how you are advocating for the rights or wrongs of the system..." I knew I wanted to participate because first off I think Kelsey is the bees knees! Not only do I love her thoughts and perspectives on adoption but damn if I don't think she would be a fun person to be around! Her love of life pours out of everything she does. And that makes me want to be the Charlotte York to her Carrie Bradshaw and cavort around NYC with her drinking virgin martinis (because I don't drink... nor really do I watch SATC) and shopping for designer shoes :)

So what am I doing to advocate for the rights or wrongs of the system? I would love to say I've changed laws or I've changed society's perception. But I can't. I have been able to accomplish one thing and while small it is something. I've changed my perception. When I began the adoption process I was entirely ignorant of the Tibetan Plateau of unadressed issues in the adoption industry. Fortunately, as I've read books, blogs and more blogs written by all three sides of the adoption triangle my blinders have been removed if only a little. More often than not it is overwhelming as I mentioned in this post. But that doesn't matter so long as it is motivating. We all need that proverbial kick in the ass to get us moving.

I will keep it short for now but combining Kelsey's group and challenge from the r house I plan on posting about adoption ALMOST every day this month. Expect posts to include details about the evolution of my perception, links to some great blogs (not of the adoptive parent type) and of course random thoughts and questions for readers.

Happy Halloween!

Humiliation...

Dear River,

You know I love you. We're tight. We're thick as theives. And I'm totally aware of the fact that you are only 2 years old. And that many years lay ahead of temper tantrums and public embarassment. And I won't blame you a bit. They come with the territory like diapers, sippy cups, and car seats. And if you ask Mimi she will tell you I threw the kind of temper tantrums you only hear about in books on parenting nightmares.

That said, would it be possible for me to make one tiny request? Really it isn't much. And I kind of think I have and will continue to earn this one... When you have a melt down in public could you make sure it isn't while we are in a parenting class? Because when I excuse us, make a break for the exit so the teachers can continue teaching without having to raise their voices above your tearful din, oh and then upset the other children when I have ask for them to return the toys you brought in I get "those" pesky looks from other parents. I hate those looks! You know, the ones that make me feel that perhaps the other parents should be the ones leaving and I should be the one sticking around.

Thanks a million, son. You're the best!

Love,
Mom

Humiliation... isn't that a virtue or something? Oh-no wait that is humility. Sorry, my bad.

Mother of the Year Award

As a mother I am constantly evaluating my mothering skills. Did I handle this tantrum well? Am I reading to him often enough? Should I have let him spend that extra 30 minutes in a wet diaper because I'm a hippy and hate to waste? I know I'm not alone. We women are overly critical (and sometimes even overly praising) of ourselves over what really is much more luck than we'd like to admit.

Though I tend toward the overly critical there is one thing I have managed to teach my son to do that I am rather proud of. No, I didn't mangage teach him:

• the names and capitals of all the states,


• how to read at a 5th grade level, or


• how to play a fiddle so well he most certainly would walk away from any contest with one of the golden variety.

It is something far more simple. And much more hilarious. I taught my son to laugh hysterically when someone burps or toots. Now wait! Before you go gasping in horror over the lack of manners for which I am advocating let me ask you this:

At the end of the day when you are stressed, when you're carrying burdens that feel they will break you down, how can you not follow suit when a cute little toddler dissolves into giggles after tooting twice in a row? Seriously, it is the Balm of Gilead to my soul. But then again, maybe I'm just too immature to be a mother.

Doh! There I go again :)

"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." ~ e.e. cummings

Antarctica

So I was listening to this song the other day... (I'm starting to get predictable, all of my IF posts start this way).... with the following lyric:

"Antarctica, my only living relative."

The song is called Antarctica and is by The Weepies. I'm pretty sure the song was written about the appealing simplicity of the continent but I connected to this lyric for an entirely different reason. I feel like I'm related to Antartica. Like I'm a large continent made of ice. Put more bluntly I feel like I've become a cold hearted bitch. All because infertility hurts me REALLY bad and I don't know how to process those emotions.

This is far and away the worst part of my trip to the Land of IF... That I've become someone I never imagined or even remotely like. That many friendships with amazing women that I have nurtured for years, friendships that have provided great comfort over the years crumble as soon as they announce what should be good news. I fear daily what will happen if I do eventually get pregnant. Will I have anyone left to celebrate with me? Or by then will I have completely alienated myself?

If I had to choose between either a) never getting pregnant and being able to mourn that loss healthy or b) getting pregnant eventually but wallowing in sorrow until then I would choose a) without a moments hesitation. Too bad said multiple choice is not available on my life test. Right now I feel like it will be the worst of both options.

To all those I know who I have hidden from and been angry with for rediculous IF reasons, please forgive me. I don't want to be related to Antarctica but for the time being it is all I know.

"It's hard to accept yourself as someone you don't desire, as someone you don't want to be."

~ Laura Marling, Rambling Man

Thankful Thursdays

I'm going to be completely honest. This has been a difficult week to be thankful. So this post is all the more necessary for my sanity :) And will include more than just one item I am thankful for.

#1 - I am thankful for the car seat in the back of my car and for the precious little boy that it keeps safe when we drive. Each glimpse of the car seat and precious moment spent reading or playing with my son has soothed my soul many times this week as I mourn the loss of my beautiful, predictable, healthy, 28 day cycles. If I am never ment to give birth to or adopt another child, this little boy makes that all right.

#2 - The Colorado fall this year. The leaves are starting to turn but the days remain warm... record setting warm... and I don't yet have to say good bye to the summer that I've desperately clung to this year.

#3 - Colorful bell peppers from the local Farmer's Market. Just looking at these beauties seriously makes me so happy to be alive I want to dance wildly with my arms up in the air. They are so full of beautiful color and flavor and I want to be just like them!

Kids say the darndest things... about adoption

Remember that commercial for chewy granola bars where parents are encouraged to feed them to their children to keep them from pointing out in brutal honesty what years of social conditioning have taught us adults to keep to ourselves? Over the course of our journey to become parents there are many times I wish I had a box of chewy granola bars on hand to avoid the probing questions of children. Infertility and adoption are foreign concepts to them and questions are as natural to them as they are painful to me. Questions as benign as "When are you going to have a baby, Jill?" to heart wrenching questions like the one my niece asked Angie. "Angie, why are you selling your baby?" I literally heard Angie's heart break with that one.

This weekend I was asked what I believe to be the best question I've ever been asked about adoption. The question came from River's first brother P who is a couple months shy of 6 years old.

P: Jill, does it ever embarass you that River had to come out of my mommy's tummy?

Me: (laughing because seriously I thought it was funny) No, I actually think it is pretty cool. Does it embarass you?

P: No. I just wondered.

I so wish I would have said something cooler. Some great quote for the ages. Something like:

Me: No, because if he hadn't come out of your mommy's tummy he wouldn't have such beautiful green eyes or such cute feet. And if he hadn't come out of your mommy's tummy we wouldn't be as close with you as we are right now. And I wouldn't give that up for anything.

But instead I laughed because oddly in the (LARGE/VAST/OVERWHELMING) spectrum of emotions I have experienced with adoption embarassment has not been one of them :)

Perfrect Moment Monday

I Capture Perfect Moments.

A birthday cake made for my son with the love of his birth and adoptive mothers for him and for each other. It most certainly will not have any TV networks banging on our door to participate in the next cake related reality TV show but IMHO it is the most beautiful cake that was ever made.

This weekend we had the wonderful opportunity to have Angie and her family in town and we squeezed every drop of fun out of this weekend that we could. The house is a mess, we're all missing quite a bit of sleep, and countless hours were spent on the road but we would have kept the party going all week if we could. Stupid jobs :P

"All you need is love, love... Love is all you need."

~ Beatles, All You Need Is Love

Welcome Toby!

I would like to welcome my newest nephew Toby to the world! He was born last Friday evening to my sister, her husband, and my niece Tessa.
I would also like to welcome the ray of hope that shined down on my aching, confused soul when I got to hold him this past weekend. As I held him an amazing thing happened. For the first time I felt like I would be able to hold a baby that small - MY baby that small one day, too. Usually it seems next to impossible like I'm tone deaf and trying to become your next American Idol.

Note to Toby: I'm not sure if the door to heaven is still open to you or not but if it is would you mind peaking your head in really quick and seeing if any of your friends are looking for a place to stay? If so let them know I have a great place for rent that serves mostly organic, vegetarian, raw meals and is totally eco friendly. Make sure you tell them that is all the rage right now. Unfortunately, my leases are 9 months long. No backing out of leases early. I don't know if I've the strength to handle it. And tell them that after the end of that 9 months they can upgrade to another place I've got for rent that still serves healthy meals but also continues to provide immeasurable amounts of love, an older brother to watch over them, two dogs to play with, beautiful mountains to the west, and a full band worth of instruments for them to play to their hearts content.

Please forgive the horrible picture. It is not flattering for either of us but it was the only one taken and I didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to show off the newest member of my extended family :)

Thankful Thursdays

Because I feel that I've been rather negative lately I've decided to institute a new weekly blogging habit. It will henceforth be called "Thankful Thursdays." I don't want to give the impression that I am a negative individual or that I enjoy wallowing in pity for myself. On the contrary, I consider myself a very happy person. I do, however, wear my heart on my sleeve and I don't conceal my emotion very well. Oh, and I'm one of those competitive types. But come on women aren't we all?

So, without any further ado here is my first effort to reveal my thankful side:

This Thursday I am thankful for how easy it is to put River to bed whether it be at night or for a nap. I can put him in his crib even while he is still awake and he will just relax there until he falls asleep. I'm under no delusion that this will continue. Especially when we turn in the crib for a toddler bed soon. For now, though, I am thankful that I do have this time because not all parents are as lucky. So I will savor every afternoon and evening that I sing my son to sleep and then take advantage of the time alone to run, hang out with Cory, accomplish the many chores to be completed around the house, sleep or just flat out veg.

"What you share with the world is what it keeps of you."

Noah and the Whale, Give a Little Love

Birthday Recipe

What are the ingredients of the perfect birthday celebration for the perfect 2 year old? I don't know any more than I know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a toostie roll pop. I don't believe that dumb owl for one second that it takes only 3 because I totally caught how he cheated at the end and crunched into it. I'll never trust an owl again... even if they are wearing academic headgear.

Regardless, we tried out the following ingredients to see how it would all turn out. (Warning: The following contains LOADS of pictures):

The 3 C's: Cuddling, Cartoons, and Carnation Instant Breakfast

(sadly no picture :( )

Mexican Food and lots of it

Beautiful weather

(as seen in the pictures)

Slides

Swings

See-saws

our favorite playground minus the crowds of summer (this adds a delectable crunch)

One large delicious nap

(leaving it to your imagination)

The very first Happy Meal


Riparian wilderness


Rope swings

Rivers of two different varieties

Cake... with a cherry on top

and OF COURSE! some sort of motorized vehicle toy

I've never really considered myself much of a baker but damn if I didn't impress with this recipe! Raw, the batter was delicious and now we will stick it in the oven and let it bake for a couple of weeks until the big birthday bash when Angie is in town to visit because River's birthday celebration cannot be complete without her!

Birthday Letter

Dear River,

This day two years ago at 5:40 pm you made your entrance into this world. You weighed 7 lbs 3 oz and measured 20 inches in length. Though I didn't give birth to you I was able to help the midwife deliver you and it was an experience I will never forget. The first two thoughts I had when I took you in my arms were:

"River is the perfect name for you. You look like a River!"

and

"You have Angie's feet."

She has a cute little curl to her pinky toe and you have the exact same curl. Though I've known Angie for a long time this is a little nuance that I came to know and love from our many late nights chatting together on the couch and watching you in your constant movement in her tummy. You were crazy and ALWAYS had the hiccups. This continued well into the first few months of your life.

I'm sure we were the talk of the birth center that day. We certainly were a crazy group with a crazy story. But we were all there for you and that made us all a force to be reckoned with. I wish that you could remember it so you could carry that love and unity with you through all your navigation of life's challenges. So it could comfort you as you come to know that you are adopted and figure out what that means for you.

I'm not going to lie. There was great loss and sadness that day and it was also felt by all. Unfortunately, it will always be felt by all. But we are all still here for you and we are continuing to forge a path that we hope and pray will be right for you. Don't feel bad if you get upset with us along the way. It is okay. Just let us know. We want to know what we can do better. Your life may have more details, stories and people than those of your friends but don't worry. Every decision that was made from the moment of your conception was a decision made of love for you.

This morning dawned perfectly. We all cuddled up with cartoons and cups of Carnation Instant Breakfast (because you are in a very picky eating phase right now). As we lay watching cartoons I realized that I was holding you the exact same way I held you almost all of your first night on this earth. Your head lay in the crook of my shoulder. It was uncomfortable for me (no way to really lay my head) but comfortable for you. Don't worry, I don't mind. I love it that way because boy I'd do anything for you! (Okay, so I'll never be that parent that buys you alcohol when you are underage so all your friends can come over and party... sorry. I know, I'm horrible :) And I told you just that, that night as I rambled on and on into the wee hours of the morning. Kind of like I am doing in this letter!

In conclusion, in honor of your 2nd Birthday here are the two things I hope you come to know unconditionally...

1st that God loves you.

2nd that you have four parents that love you unconditionally and will always be there for you.

I love you, sweet darling. I love you more than anything...

~ Mom

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

The itsy, bitsy spider

Climbed up into his crib

Crawled up his sleeping body

And bit him on the lid

It's all red and swollen

and Mommy's out her head

Mr. Itsy, Bitsy Spider

You are freakin' dead!

Grieving Infertility

I am a sucker for a well written sad song. Even when I am in the happiest of moods I gladly embrace them and emerge on the other side with a smile on my face. They don't get me down. Instead listening to them is an uplifting experience. That moment of brief camaraderie is enough to lift my spirit and soothe my soul.

I know, right? What sick, twisted type of individual am I?

It reminds me of the "Far Side" cartoon with the cowboy leaned up against a covered wagon with a dozen or so arrows in his heart. In the infinite wisdom that all cartoon bubbles encapsulate the cowboy is saying something to the effect of, "It hurts, but it hurts so good." Well said, Mr. Larson, well said! That is exactly how I feel about a well written sad song!

As of late I have been really digging the band Noah and the Whale. Listening to their first album was almost a religious experience. I know, I know that is sacreligious to say but doesn't the word music in one language literally translate to mean "God flesh?" Hmmm, I'll get back to you on that one. I'm seriously digressing here...

Today I was listening to Noah's second album inspired by the lead singer's painful break up. So cliche but trust me, it hurts but it hurts so good! A line in one of the songs on the album says, "You know in a year it's going to be better... You know in a year I'm gonna be happy." As I sat in my cubicle discretely trying to sing along it hit me. That is why infertility is so difficult to grieve. It is not a singular event with pain that numbs and heals with the years. Instead it is a continual event. One that I may find brief respite from now and then but one that pierces my heart every time that evil monthly visitor mockingly arrives tap dancing with a wicked grin.

...And again when someone announces they are pregnant in person or on facebook. Or even worse - when they wait until their pregnant belly makes the announcement.

....And again when I watch their belly grow while mine remains a muffin top at best.

...And again when I get an invitation to a baby shower.

...And again when I over hear a celebratory conversation with a pregnant woman and her friends.

...And again when I go to get my annual exam and notice I'm the only flat belly in the room.

...And again when a co-worker mistakes me for someone who wants to hear about all the women who've been laid off at work recently but now are pregnant. Dammit! Why did they keep me around?

...And again when it seems every woman I pass on the street is at least in the final weeks of her second trimester.

...And again when I see commercials, tv shows or movies that have a pregnant woman somehow involved. Seriously, even if she is an extra in the blurry background.

....And worst of all when I realize that relationships with pregnant family and friends have become strained because a) I can't kick my damn competitive streak and b) they can't understand why I'm not "over it" yet.

How does one grieve a continual event like that? I wonder if I will ever get over it. I guess in the mean time I've always got my well written sad songs.

"... if I sit here and weep

I'll be blown over by the slightest of breeze."

~'Rambling Man' by Laura Marling*

* former member of Noah and the Whale who broke up with the lead singer leading to an amazing second album sans her but chock full of well written sad songs as mentioned above :)

The Adoption Blogosphere

For over two years now I've been close friends with the wonderful goddess that is the Adoption Blogosphere. We've shared our most intimate, honest thoughts and feelings over tears, over smiles, over piles of work that I should be doing instead, over sleepless nights, over steaming cups of chamomile tea. I have learned from her, I've grown as an adoptive parent and as a person in general. Through her I've met the most amazing people. People that I've never met in real life, some that don't even know I exist, but people that I love like we've been friends since grade school. People that I cry with and pray for. People that I have nothing and yet everything in common with.

Tired of just reading the fluffy stuff written by other adoptive parents I recently began really getting into the blogs written by the other two sides in the adoption triangle. While I didn't expect flowers, bunnies, and rainbows I was in no way prepared for the depth of negative, angry emotion that I would encounter. Don't get me wrong. Not all are angry. Some are quite positive, others a mix of the two. Regardless of their status on the sliding scale of emotions I became enthralled with their thoughts and feelings. I felt the need to figure out how to prevent or how I would work through each individual situation in the most supportive manner if either River or Angie were to express similar thoughts and feelings. That led to my downfall. That led to the 20 car pile up in my head. Because I couldn't understand where the negative emotions were coming from I often flip-flopped between a desire to fight to defend the honor of myself, River and Angie from their generalized accusations and a desire to hitch a ride with Marty McFly to help right the wrongs that have been done to cause it all.

After a few months of this I realized I was in over my head. I was caught up in the "what ifs." I was absent from the present. I was absent from my son's reality, from Angie's reality. Instead of asking what they need from me I was busy assuming I already knew because of some blog I was reading.

So, my dear friend Adoption Blogosphere I feel it is time that we loose the bond that has tied us together. Not because I don't believe your voices need to be heard. On the contrary I believe they ALL need to be heard. Even the deepest, darkest, angriest ones. Adoption needs reform and it will only come from within. We will only be motivated to push for these reforms when we read those things that make us uncomfotable but that instigate self evaluation and growth. I have learned a lot from you and one of the things I have learned most is that I can't force emotions or reactions on my son. I need to be where he can share his own with me. I am needed here:

and here....

and here:

and most certainly here:

because a) they are having so much fun! and b) look how close those knives are to my bathing son! What kind of mother allows such an unsafe environment for her child?

I won't stop blogging and I won't stop reading. Instead I will listen the most to the other sides of MY adoption triangle and let THEIR emotions trigger action in me.

Kent this is Arnie Pie with Arnie in the Sky. It looks like they have just removed the last of the wreckage from the 20 car pile up that had made such a mess of one poor girl's head. Traffic is officially flowing again. Whew!

Agh, there is a 20 car pile-up in my head right now!

I think I have written at least 5 posts since my last post but have yet to post them because just when I get started my mind goes all crazy, I can't focus, I cry, I start writing the whole thing from scratch and then I give up for another day. So, in the mean time while I work my crazy brain out please enjoy this gem of a picture.

I love warm summer days when my little boy can run around with the dogs wearing nothing but his yellow rain boots!

p.s. Said mental pile up is not the result of any major life changes (i.e. pregnancy, adoption #2, major move, job and/or career change, etc. though I SO wish I could say it was!). Just thought I would clarify since the intro to the post may be misinterpreted as a prelude to an announcement.

I've got high hopes!

If someone were to enquire about my organizational skills I would respond that I have none. That I was born with a rare disease that hindered the development of that part of my brain. As a result our budget is not balanced, our house is quite cluttered, and it literally takes me 4 hours to get ready in the morning. Now, don't think me a narcissist. I don't spend 4 hours on myself. My problem is I don't have a set schedule for my morning and as a result spend hours of disorganized effort exercising, doing small chores, completing all necessary tasks to get myself and River ready for the day, fixing lunches, goofing off, etc. This wouldn't be an issue if I was lucky enough to be a stay at home mom. Alas I am not. Instead I work almost full time.

I usually get up and going around 6:00 am. I try to accomplish as much as possible before 8:00 am because that is generally when River gets up. When he gets up he wants to be a part of everything I am doing. While I love that he loves to be with me it slows my progress down to the equivalent of slow-motion replay. It is generally 10:00 before I'm out the door and I still have to drop River off at his nanny's. After that, I'm not to work until 10:30 yet have to fit in an 8 hour day of work. No one benefits from this lack of a schedule. I'm cranky in the morning and in the evening when I get home.

During one morning conversation with River's nanny she recommended I find River a "morning toy" that only came out in the morning so it was special and captured his attention so I wouldn't hit the slow-mo as soon as he woke up. I loved the idea and after some brainstorming decided that I should get one of those garages with multi-levels and slides for cars and trucks. Luckily it turned out that just such a toy was gathering dust in my parent's basement now that my nephew is too old to play with it!

We've had this toy now for one week, thanks to my wonderful Mom! It has truly been heaven sent. Unfortunately is can't solve the rest of my disorganization woes. Does anyone else have any good organizational tips? I'm not just looking for those that help streamline my morning routine. I'm looking for anything on how to balance time with family, time at work, and the time required to maintain a house/yard, etc.

Thank you to everyone in advance. I've got high hopes :)

Peek-a-Boo Storytime

Once upon a time in a land far, far away lived a cute little boy named after a moving body of water. As he grew mischief became his companion and though you may not believe it, the following story is true:

The Prince and the Watermelon

One day after the Queen had made her rounds to two of the four farmer's markets she frequents (yes I grocery shop at four different grocery stores... I want my family to eat healthy and clean on a budget. There is no way around it) she put away all of the food except for one 20 lb seedless watermelon. The Queen unfortunately was foolish and left the watermelon sitting out on a chair in the kitchen and then left to attend a church activity. While away this mischievous boy named after a flowing body of water (who weighed only 27 lbs himself) managed to roll the watermelon off of the chair upon which it was left and then rolled it to the precipice of the stairs.

"Why stop here? I must test Newton and his silly concept of gravity! To do so I shall roll the watermelon down the stairs!" he cried and followed through.

The King later described the sound as a series of bumps followed by the sound of a wave crashing in the basement. A wave most certainly would have made no less of a mess than the watermelon that shattered upon impact despite that the surface was that of soft 70's shag carpet.

"Alas," the Prince concluded, "that crock pot Newton was right!"

It took all the Kings strength and all the Queen's skill to put the basement back together again.

Oh how I wish I had a picture of the watermelon to illustrate this story. Unfortunately, the only picture was deleted from both royal cell phones mysteriously... Perhaps again the work of the mischievous Prince?

No... Of course not! How can a face like this be anything but sweet to the core?

I would like to share one final story that is not of this King, Queen or Prince. But it is a tale of a miracle that somehow got lost and yet was VERY patiently waited for. The tale is filled with great strength, great loss, and great joy that has trumped all. It is truly a fairytale story. A truly, true one as well. I will never be able to do it justice myself so instead I encourage you to read this for inspiring, tangible proof that miracles happen each day :)

... turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers...

No, this is not a belated Father's Day post. Instead, this post is related to my previous post regarding my recent ephiphany. As of late I feel as though I've been consumed with sorrow, anger, frustration and jealousy regarding my inability to get pregnant. It has become an obsession of mine. And obsessions are never healthy. A&E even has an award winning television series proving just that! So, I've reached out to some friends for advice to help tackle my demons because I'm a talker. I want to talk out EVERYTHING hoping someone will say just the right thing to turn that dark bulb over my head light. Unfortunately, this has only taught me that infertility effects everyone differently and most women it has not effected as negatively as it has me. (Don't give up reading now if you are afraid this is just going to be a bunch of whining. I promise it has a happy ending!)

So I've been trying to "back up" as I told my son to do and figure out how I can get rid of all of this anger and negativity. I am proud to announce that I have FINALLY found the solution to my problem. THANK GOODNESS the answer is NOT to pretend to be excited for expectant mothers and try to subdue my feelings of jealousy in hopes that eventually my pretence would become sincere. I realized this effort was my equivalent of River's cart wheel stuck on a post. When has pretence ever lead to sincerity? Instead the answer came as I was preparing a lesson for the Sunday School class I teach at church. (Again, don't give up reading now if you are afraid this is going to be a bible thumping post, the answer is not for religious folks only). As I prepared the lesson I read the following verses:

"Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord. And he shall turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers..." Malachi 4:5-6

and

"... he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias (another name used often to refer to the prophet Elijah), to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." Luke 1:17

The lesson, in case you can't tell from the super cryptic bible verses, was about keeping family history records. Yes, I'm LDS and we "Mo-Mo's" love ourselves some good ol' fashioned geneology!

I know this is dramatic but sometimes it feels like I've reached MY great and dreadful day, and I would LOVE the wisdom of the just to get me through it. Come on down Elijah, the price is most certainly right! So I've decided to turn my heart to my "fathers" through family history work so that I may ground myself in the life lessons of those who have come before me. So many of which involve the loss of many children in pregnancy, labor, and in childhood. And turn my heart to my "children" by keeping River's records so that he too can learn from them.

Please know that I am under no false impression that this will solve everything. There will still be difficult, angry days but they will be far less in number and that's all right with me. My plan is to work mostly in Cory's family history as both of my grandparents have done amazing work totalling 20,000+ names on both my maternal and paternal sides going as far back as the 15th century! I also want to compile River's biological family history and I am the most excited about this work.

Since I don't want a pictureless post again here are a few pictures of my famous/infamous ancestors...

John Henry "Doc" Holliday

(great, great, great, great, great, great, great cousin)

Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in the movie Tombstone back when he was SSSSEXY!

Ben Holladay the "Stage Coach King" who sold his business to a little known company at the time called Wells Fargo.

(great, great, great, great, etc. cousin or uncle)

That makes me an heir to Wells Fargo fortune then right? :P

And finally (you might as well hang in there, you've made it this far!) here is an amazing story of loss and endurance from the life of my great, great grandparents. This happened before my great grandfather was born.

"When my parents had five children, the oldest being eight years of age and the youngest only one year, my mother sent the oldest girl, Julia, to the Hyrum Bryan house to borrow some sugar. Because the family had diphtheria, mother told Julia not to go into the house but to leave the sugar bowl by the front gate and call to the family. Instead, she went in and got the disease, which she carried home. As a result, Julia Lovisa, Sarah Melissa, Mary Louisa and Thomas Riley, the baby, all died within twelve days. Mother also caught the disease as well as six-year-old Allen Jedediah. They both lived because a doctor arrived in town in time. The 5-year old girl, Mary Louisa told my father and mother that she knew the baby, Thomas Riley, would also die. She said that Sarah Melissa would get well. She promised father she would look after the other children. Mary Louisa died early one morning and at nine o’clock that morning Thomas Riley appeared to be well and was playing on the floor. He took sick and died by noon. They buried Thomas in Mary Louisa’s arms. Julia Lovisa died within the twelve day period but Allen Jedediah was saved."

Okay so that story didn't have a happy ending. Sorry! I just thought it beautiful that they buried some of the children together so they could take care of each other.

Just back up, honey!

I had a roommate in college tell me that the definition of crazy was repeating the same action over and over again expecting a different result. I believe at the time she told me this I was kicking the dishwasher hoping to jar it back to life...

Her words came to mind the other day as I watched River playing on the patio naked, sporting my cute black flats, pushing his grocery cart and melting into tears because one of the wheels on the grocery cart was caught on a post and he couldn't figure out why his cart wasn't moving forward. He was repeatedly pushing the cart expecting that perhaps the next push would move the cart in the direction he desired. Alas it was only wedging the wheel further. Several times I said, "Just back up, honey! Then you can move forward again" as if he was old enough to understand my logic.

After the 3rd or 4th time he did seem to get it, though, and when he did I had my own little ephiphany. While I'm certainly mature enough to see the necessary steps to unwedge the wheel of a toddler grocery cart I am not mature enough to see the necessary steps to undwedge myself from place I've become stuck in my life. Or as I like to see it (since I loves me some rivers!) dammed in general. Not damned... dammed. I don't believe anyone is damned... just dammed. Dammed like a river unable to make progress. (But that is a whole other theological discussion!)

Like River, I need to back up, too, so I can reassess and reestablish my efforts because right now I am the definition of crazy repeating the same actions over and over again melting into tears when such actions not only do not produce the desired effect but in fact only make things worse. It is amazing the life lessons you can learn yourself from the advice you give to your child!

Bill Murray

Billy Murray - Due January 15, 2008, Born May 2007

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart." ~ Jeremiah 1:5

First, I will explain why there is a picture of monkey in overalls with a guitar representing our little angel. On Bill Murray's due date we went to Build-A-Bear to make her tangible. We chose a monkey because we are goofy and LOVE to laugh. We added the sound of a lion's roar to her hand because we knew we would pass her down to her siblings and wanted them to know that she was there to watch over and protect them. And we gave her a little heart that said, "I am loved."

For a more detailed description of our story of how we found out we were expecting and how we found out we were returning our first child to the Lord read this post I wrote in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, October 15th. I don't want to write too much as I tend to fall into the over dramatic trap easily. Hey, what can I say? I minored in Theatre in college :) Instead I want to share with you some cute pictures of Bill Murray and River with some of my favorite quotes... which may be just as dramatic as my own words but it makes me feel better knowing I'm not the only one.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declared the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and future.'" ~ Jeremiah 29:11

"... those angels can't ever take [our] place..." ~ Tori Amos

"As Long As I Live You Will Live

As Long As I Live You Will Be Remembered

As Long As I Live You Will Be Loved" ~ Author unknown

(Good ol' fashioned sibling wrasslin')

"There is no foot so small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world" ~ Author unknown


"What we have once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose, for all that we love deeply becomes a part of us." ~ Helen Keller

(Shhhh! Don't tell Mom!)

"A family is a circle of love, not broken by a loss, but made stronger by the memories."

~Author Unknown

With infant or pregnancy loss the most commonly asked question is WHY? Why weren't we able to raise our daughter here on earth? It certainly could NOT be because we are dorks and potentially embarassing parents! I mean our family is completely, 100%, the exact definition of normal! As proof I submit to you the following:

See?!? Perfectly normal. And we most certainly DO NOT post embarrassing pictures of our children on the internet for the whole world to see.

We love you Bill Murray!

"I'll be home, I'll be home to take you in my arms." ~Tori Amos

A few thoughts on grieving before I close:

Shortly after we lost Bill Murray I read the following passage in the book of Job:

"Now when Job's three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place ... for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him. And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great." ~ Job 2:11-13

For those who have not lost it is often difficult to know how to support those who have. Job's friends were right on the money... at first, of course, for those of you who are familiar with the rest of the story. They cried with him, they mourned with him and "none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great."

The most comforting story I found after my miscarriage was a story my Mom told me about my niece. My Mom overheard her crying in her room one day. When she asked her what was the matter she said she was crying for her cousin (Bill Murray) who had passed away. It meant more than words can ever express to know that our pain was understood and felt by others. This January my sister texted me to let me know she was thinking about me knowing we would have been celebrating our child's 2nd birthday that month. Again, it meant more than words can ever express to me to know that I'm not the only one who hasn't forgotten.