'Evening Ladies (and gents, if there are any!)
Tonight we shall discuss interracial adoption.It will not be PC. Forgive me.
My son was adopted by an interracial couple. Mom is white, Dad is black. His older siblings (the foster kids they adopted) are black. His younger are the twins, they are mixed. The kids, when all together with Mom and Dad, look like his kids (the older 2), her kid (B) and their kids (the twins). I still have not decided how I feel about this. On one hand, obviously I am okay with it. I do think they are amazing parents and that they are the right parents for their children. On the other hand, I wish he could just blend into his family. I do not want him to have to explain that H really IS dad, or that he was adopted, or any other thing. His family and relations are his business.
He does look just like T, and that works in his favor. I hope (somehow) that his little sisters look like him.
Outside of B, T and H, it bothers me how little interracial adoption is ... seen (best word, not right word) in the real world. I have found children's books about adoption, but the families in them are always white throught. I mentioned that to an adoption counselor at the meetup, and her answer was that african americans rarely place. That got me to thinking...why? If they can raise their babies, what made me think that I couldn't? Is it a cultural thing? I wonder if adoption is seen as a 'white thing' from the outside. I have no answers, of course, but I would love the chance to have this conversation in the greater adoption world.
For now, where do I look for resources for B when the time comes? He is 3 now, soon he will realize he looks different from daddy. I know it is not MY job to be prepared, but the chance to makes me feel a bit better.
With Love Always,
Me
Monday, January 31
Thursday, January 27
Dreams
Now that you guys have some of my baskstory down, I get to talk about adoption in a million different ways! Tonight, I shall start with how it was always (sort of) a dream of mine.
I was tweeting with a good friend (Hi Steph!) and fellow birthmom this evening about how people never have any clue what to say to infertile women. I joked and said " I am deeply sorry, so much so that I donated a child to the cause." She knew I was joking, but there is a bit of history there.
From the time I was little, I always wanted to be a surrogate. Something deep inside me always feels the need to give. I knew there were people who could not have children, and I was certain I would be able to help them. I never imagined the emotions that would or could go into it.
Sidenote: Surrogacy and adoption are different in a million ways. In surrogacy, the woman intentionally gets pregnant with someone else's child (usually) and intends to give that baby up even before conception. Adoption is almost always a solution to an accidental pregnancy. That is the most superficial difference.
When I became pregnant, I thought "Oh! I can make my dream come true now!" How wrong I was. Though I know I did what was right, I would never call that heartbreak a dream come true. The feeling that I let B down, that my family has lost a member they still long for will never go away. That was not part of any dream I could ever have. Making someone else's dreams of being a parent come true is an amazing, empowering, beautiful thing. Breaking my heart to do it was worth every second. I still intend to be a surrogate in the near future, but it will only be for someone who means the world to me.
I can't feel that pain again for a stranger, no matter how dearly I love H & T
With Love Always
Me
I was tweeting with a good friend (Hi Steph!) and fellow birthmom this evening about how people never have any clue what to say to infertile women. I joked and said " I am deeply sorry, so much so that I donated a child to the cause." She knew I was joking, but there is a bit of history there.
From the time I was little, I always wanted to be a surrogate. Something deep inside me always feels the need to give. I knew there were people who could not have children, and I was certain I would be able to help them. I never imagined the emotions that would or could go into it.
Sidenote: Surrogacy and adoption are different in a million ways. In surrogacy, the woman intentionally gets pregnant with someone else's child (usually) and intends to give that baby up even before conception. Adoption is almost always a solution to an accidental pregnancy. That is the most superficial difference.
When I became pregnant, I thought "Oh! I can make my dream come true now!" How wrong I was. Though I know I did what was right, I would never call that heartbreak a dream come true. The feeling that I let B down, that my family has lost a member they still long for will never go away. That was not part of any dream I could ever have. Making someone else's dreams of being a parent come true is an amazing, empowering, beautiful thing. Breaking my heart to do it was worth every second. I still intend to be a surrogate in the near future, but it will only be for someone who means the world to me.
I can't feel that pain again for a stranger, no matter how dearly I love H & T
With Love Always
Me
Tuesday, January 25
On Moving, and breaking my heart
Sorry for the absence. I have a lot going on in my brain right now. I think I left off with our decision to move to Seattle, so that is where I will pick up.
While I was pregnant Mom begged me to move out here and raise B. She said we would find a way to make it work. I knew and believed better. I know that it broke her heart when I placed him.
Shortly after his birth, and in a place of emotional exhaustion for Erik and I, Mom again asked us to move out here. We were financially unstable, emotionally broken, and ready for a change. Having T and B live just around the corner meant we could run into them at any time. While I did love that, it was not helping to cement T & H's place as B's parents in my heart. Whenever I missed B, I could just run to him. I knew that something had to change.
We decided that a move to Seattle would be that change. It was also a way to get away from being a birthmom, when I was not ready to come out of that closet. Yes, we were actually running from our problems. I think it scared H & T to the core when we told them we were moving. I know they were afraid I was going to take B and run, leaving them without the son they had begun to bond with. As much as I longed to, I had no intentions of doing that. He was THEIR son. We went to the courthouse and got what paperwork we could straight, they were legally his guardians. That day? Yeah, it hurt. As much as it hurt, it was amazing to make someone else parents.
I have few memories between then and getting on the plane to leave for Seattle. I had no idea the desperate loneliness I could and would feel for my (our) son. I just knew I had to get away, to let him be a part of his new family and not have them looking over their shoulder, afraid of what I could and would do. I later found out that they were not afraid of me changing my mind, but of Erik changing his. Funny, now, to think about.
With Love Always,
me
Sunday, January 16
Current: A conversation between Erik and I
Erik and I were just discussing his willingness to help his friends with their children and how that bothers me. He has not 'met' Blake since he was an infant. His relationship with T is strained. I encourage him to work on it. This was his reaction
Me: You have done more for other people's kids, put more effort into those relationships than your relationship with B.
Erik: Blake has a dad. It's not really a big deal.
Me: Blake has 2 dads. One just choses to try and forget his existance.
Erik: O. Yeh. Last time I checked I wasn't welcome there. I at least want to be there if he has any questions.
I have no idea how to respond to that. My heart is breaking. Erik has distanced himself because he DOESN'T see himself as B's 'dad' by any description. I have tried to encourage him to be in B's life. I don't know what to do now.
With Love Always
Me
Back to work, for better and worse
When B was born, I had two weeks of vacation. I had no maternity leave and could not afford to stay home and not get paid. My emotions could not have handled that anyway. I remember bits of that two weeks. Being afraid to move for fear my stitches would rip. Begging E to get pregnant again, immediately. Cabbage boobs. Boobs in the sink, resting in ice water. Visits from friends. I don't remember tears, but I think that is because I have shut them out.
I hated my body. First, it allowed me to become pregnant with a son I could not raise. Then it fell in love with this amazing boy. My traitor body did all of the things it would have needed to do to support B. And now it was empty.
I've heard it said that mothers (and fathers really) whom have gone through miscarriages are Mothers (fathers) without babies. Their bodies still know what to do, their hormones still act like those of a mother with a child toddling around. I know being a birthmom is different, I do not even come close to the grief that miscarriage parents must feel, but to a certain extent that is what I went (and still go) through. Amazing what a maternal instinct does.
Two weeks after B's birth, back to work I went. All of my coworkers knew I had placed. None of my customers did. Every day I got questioned how he was doing, when was I bringing him by for everyone to see. I should mention that I worked in a male dominated industry, in a small town in the south. I was afraid of the reactions I would get. I had a co-worker tell me that if I loved B I never would have 'gotten rid' of him. Another insited on throwing me a baby shower while I was pregnant. I finally convinced him not to.
In the end, there was one customer that I told. Uncle G. Not really my uncle, but an amazing soul that I still adore. His reaction almost made me cry. He said his brother and sister in law had been trying to adopt, he wished I would have told him. It was said with love, not discouragement. It amazed me.
Going back to work was awesome for me, it got me out of the house and gave me something to think about other than how much it all hurt. It also convinced me that I could not keep going on like nothing had changed. In my heart everything had.
I was driving home from work one day, same as every day. I've mentioned that T & company lived about 3 miles away. On this particular day, I happened to see T driving down one of the main roads in town. I smiled and waved, heart happy yet stung. I pulled into my driveway and started to unlock the door, when lo and behold, into my driveway pulled T. Yet another reminder that we are in this together. She said she knew that I would want to see him, and couldn't just go home without stopping by. I am truly in awe of the goodness in this woman's heart.
I hated my body. First, it allowed me to become pregnant with a son I could not raise. Then it fell in love with this amazing boy. My traitor body did all of the things it would have needed to do to support B. And now it was empty.
I've heard it said that mothers (and fathers really) whom have gone through miscarriages are Mothers (fathers) without babies. Their bodies still know what to do, their hormones still act like those of a mother with a child toddling around. I know being a birthmom is different, I do not even come close to the grief that miscarriage parents must feel, but to a certain extent that is what I went (and still go) through. Amazing what a maternal instinct does.
Two weeks after B's birth, back to work I went. All of my coworkers knew I had placed. None of my customers did. Every day I got questioned how he was doing, when was I bringing him by for everyone to see. I should mention that I worked in a male dominated industry, in a small town in the south. I was afraid of the reactions I would get. I had a co-worker tell me that if I loved B I never would have 'gotten rid' of him. Another insited on throwing me a baby shower while I was pregnant. I finally convinced him not to.
In the end, there was one customer that I told. Uncle G. Not really my uncle, but an amazing soul that I still adore. His reaction almost made me cry. He said his brother and sister in law had been trying to adopt, he wished I would have told him. It was said with love, not discouragement. It amazed me.
Going back to work was awesome for me, it got me out of the house and gave me something to think about other than how much it all hurt. It also convinced me that I could not keep going on like nothing had changed. In my heart everything had.
I was driving home from work one day, same as every day. I've mentioned that T & company lived about 3 miles away. On this particular day, I happened to see T driving down one of the main roads in town. I smiled and waved, heart happy yet stung. I pulled into my driveway and started to unlock the door, when lo and behold, into my driveway pulled T. Yet another reminder that we are in this together. She said she knew that I would want to see him, and couldn't just go home without stopping by. I am truly in awe of the goodness in this woman's heart.
I love her. This was about the time E and I decided to move to Seattle. Neither of us could admit it at the time, but having B so close was just torture. We pretended it was a financial decision. Our hearts just could not take it anymore.
With Love Always
Me
Saturday, January 15
I Love You, from the first instant ( It's long, be prepared!)
Hi, welcome to Saturday night in Debbie land. Nothing exciting. Back to the already scheduled show.
After my momentary freak out that B would be lonely in the nursery, it was time for hugs all around. T was scared and in love all at once. So was I. She called H and told him that B was born. I dont remember much after that, except the doctor sewing me up. Yes, that part. I called my mom, who was excited but reserved. I don't blame her. The next thing I remember is calling my best friend.
For the moment, we shall detour to the miracle that is his name. Erik and I did not mention any names. We did not suggest any. This was their decision. Blake Edward. Blake is my best friend, my other half's name. Edward is Erik's dad's name. Blake has adopted me into his family, as have his parents. Eddie (Erik's dad) is really Erik's step dad, but has acted as if Erik were his own from the day Erik was born. It fits.
Ok, so I called Blake. No, Erik called Blake. He told him that the baby was born. He told him Blake Edward's name. I chucked in the back ground and said 'No, you ego maniac, we didn't name him after you.' Blake would have understood it from me as a joke. Erik repeated it, and Blake thought he was serious. It was a bit awkward. Blake did not visit me in the hospital.He would have been heartbroken. I also distanced myself from him during the pregnancy for the same reason.
I did have a few important people visit me in the hospital. Erik's grandmother visited. She knew this would probably be her one shot at meeting B. She was heartbroken. She was battling cancer, and had made it her goal to make sure the 'family stayed together.' Obviously, she never met H & T. Greg, a wonderful friend, visited. He is still in love with B. He loves when I share pictures with him. I love my Greg. Then there is the uninvited visitor. I still dont know how I feel about this one. The ex step dad visited. His sister worked at the hospital and she told him I was there. Awkward to say the least. His sister also stopped in, and I love her to the moon and back.
There was a moment when I knew I was a mom. I was walking the halls with the ex aunt and we stopped at the nursery. The blinds were closed, but I heard a cry. From some part deep within me, I KNEW that was B's cry. That was the moment. I knew I had been forever changed.
H & T did give me my alone time with B at the hospital. They sort of did not have a choice - they had 3 other kids to care for! I fed him, once, and remember beforehand looking at tiny B and saying 'Ok kid, I've never done this before, we are in this together. Here goes nothing!' He ate his whole bottle, and apparently that was too much. The nurse later scolded me. Erik was there with me 90% of the time. He went home to sleep and eat.
The first time H held B was just...too adorable. H was terrified. He didn't know how to operate babies. I was relieved I was not the only one. He was so gentle, so deliberate. H doesnt show emotion much, but I could see in his eyes that he was in love.
We were discussing being released and how that would work. Because my parental rights had not yet been terminated, B had to leave with me. As we were debating the logistics of this, the nurses informed me they wanted to keep him for another night, did I want to stay with him? What a silly, silly question! My first worry for him was that he would be lonely. There was no way my baby would be there without me.
When leaving time came, thefour five of us left together. This was a sign of things to come. We are in this together. We all went to H & T's house, where my car was waiting. It took all of the strength in my body to leave that house without B. H was three days old. He was perfect. He was not mine as much as he was mine. I was doing what was best, what I had promised him. My body, used to being home to and growing a wonderful person, felt useless and worthless. The milk that had come in taunted me. I smiled, as much as I could, at my friends becoming forever parents. I certainly did not regret it, but I was tortured to only live 3 miles away.
B's first doctors appointment must have been the next day. Erik had to work. I was alone, just me and my broken heart. I went to that appointment with T. My heart swelled to see him again. I loved to hear that he was perfect in every way. I loved that he looked a bit like T. And then the appointment was over and I was home again. Alone. Broken. It was hard. It was amazing. It was beautiful and tragic. Adoption is that way.
More tomorrow.
With Love Always,
Me
After my momentary freak out that B would be lonely in the nursery, it was time for hugs all around. T was scared and in love all at once. So was I. She called H and told him that B was born. I dont remember much after that, except the doctor sewing me up. Yes, that part. I called my mom, who was excited but reserved. I don't blame her. The next thing I remember is calling my best friend.
For the moment, we shall detour to the miracle that is his name. Erik and I did not mention any names. We did not suggest any. This was their decision. Blake Edward. Blake is my best friend, my other half's name. Edward is Erik's dad's name. Blake has adopted me into his family, as have his parents. Eddie (Erik's dad) is really Erik's step dad, but has acted as if Erik were his own from the day Erik was born. It fits.
Ok, so I called Blake. No, Erik called Blake. He told him that the baby was born. He told him Blake Edward's name. I chucked in the back ground and said 'No, you ego maniac, we didn't name him after you.' Blake would have understood it from me as a joke. Erik repeated it, and Blake thought he was serious. It was a bit awkward. Blake did not visit me in the hospital.He would have been heartbroken. I also distanced myself from him during the pregnancy for the same reason.
I did have a few important people visit me in the hospital. Erik's grandmother visited. She knew this would probably be her one shot at meeting B. She was heartbroken. She was battling cancer, and had made it her goal to make sure the 'family stayed together.' Obviously, she never met H & T. Greg, a wonderful friend, visited. He is still in love with B. He loves when I share pictures with him. I love my Greg. Then there is the uninvited visitor. I still dont know how I feel about this one. The ex step dad visited. His sister worked at the hospital and she told him I was there. Awkward to say the least. His sister also stopped in, and I love her to the moon and back.
There was a moment when I knew I was a mom. I was walking the halls with the ex aunt and we stopped at the nursery. The blinds were closed, but I heard a cry. From some part deep within me, I KNEW that was B's cry. That was the moment. I knew I had been forever changed.
H & T did give me my alone time with B at the hospital. They sort of did not have a choice - they had 3 other kids to care for! I fed him, once, and remember beforehand looking at tiny B and saying 'Ok kid, I've never done this before, we are in this together. Here goes nothing!' He ate his whole bottle, and apparently that was too much. The nurse later scolded me. Erik was there with me 90% of the time. He went home to sleep and eat.
The first time H held B was just...too adorable. H was terrified. He didn't know how to operate babies. I was relieved I was not the only one. He was so gentle, so deliberate. H doesnt show emotion much, but I could see in his eyes that he was in love.
We were discussing being released and how that would work. Because my parental rights had not yet been terminated, B had to leave with me. As we were debating the logistics of this, the nurses informed me they wanted to keep him for another night, did I want to stay with him? What a silly, silly question! My first worry for him was that he would be lonely. There was no way my baby would be there without me.
When leaving time came, the
B's first doctors appointment must have been the next day. Erik had to work. I was alone, just me and my broken heart. I went to that appointment with T. My heart swelled to see him again. I loved to hear that he was perfect in every way. I loved that he looked a bit like T. And then the appointment was over and I was home again. Alone. Broken. It was hard. It was amazing. It was beautiful and tragic. Adoption is that way.
More tomorrow.
With Love Always,
Me
Friday, January 14
Part 3, Where I give birth!
Seven months pregnant and laying on my back deck is where I left you guys, so that's where I will pick up.
Months seven and eight were pretty uneventful. I started to realize what adoption was, what was actually happening, but there were no real milestones. B's gender became evident just a few weeks before he was born. Yeah, I somehow found the one doctor left with a fuzzy, blurry 1980s ultrasound machine.
H & T didn't have a baby shower before he was born, and I do not blame them. I imagine this was a very scary time in their lives. At work, everyone knew my decision. I will write later about the reactions I got, but let's just say none were positive.
I worked right up until the day I went into labor. I had sort of planned it that way. The morning of September 14, 2007 I got up, like any other day, and went into work. I was less than productive that day. I remember just feeling off. All I wanted to do was curl up and be alone, in a very instinctive sort of way. I left work early. I bet they placed odds on if I was going to give birth that night, but I didn't know what was happening. I went home, napped, and the bf and I decided we needed to eat.
I stood up to change and the gush happened. Like may women, I thought I had peed on myself. When I was still gushing ten seconds later, I knew. I called Erik into the room and told him that we weren't going to get food. When he asked why, all I could think of to tell him was 'I'm leaking!'
I suppose we should have had a birth plan. Instead of rushing me to the car or some other thing, he ran to the neighbors house to ask them what to do. The she neighbor walked over, found me seated on the toilet, had a chuckle and sent Erik back, with instructions that today was the day.
I dressed in clothes that I knew I would never see again (amniotic fluid just seems...gross to me) and stashed a towel or two between my legs. Into the car we both went. It was a stormy, beautiful night. We made it approximately six blocks. Erik decided that we should have taken the other car, and I was delirious with excitement, anticipation and ... horomones? I dont know, but back to the house we went. Cars were switched and we were off again. This time we made it two miles. The car was out of gas. After a brief pitstop, we were off.
Erik, no matter how I feel about him, amazed me that night. In a flash, we were at the hospital. I was still giggly. He called T and she met us at the hospital. For the rest of my life, I will always cherish what she said to us in the private moments on the elevator to L&D. She said 'You guys know, if you decide you can't do this, you can have all of our baby stuff.' Even now, I cry when I think of it. I don't even know if she remembers saying it.
Once we were checked in and into a room, the nurse came in and did what they do. I was 4 cm dialated. This was about 8 at night. By ten, I had an epidural and was settled in. I was still giddy. It was pretty fun, honestly. We took bets on what time B would be here. We snacked. I fell asleep on my hands and knees. Erik and T both slept off and on through the night, but neither ever left my side.
Sometime in the middle of that night, we realized B still did not have a name! I told T that there was not time like the present, that he was about to be here. Realization flashed across her face. This was real. She called H, and before long they settled on a name. Blake Edward. Now he could be born!
I even had fun pushing. It was strange. Lucky for me, I didnt push for too long. Every push I gave, he would descend, and get sucked right back up inside of me. Dr decided that a suction cup would help. Too bad B was hard headed! The Dr attached his suctioney thingy to B's head and pulled and pulled and pulled. POP! The suction broke. Blood flew everywhere. I thought B's head had come off! The dr thought that was hilarious and assured me that my baby was still on one piece. Next, forceps. Those did the trick. B was born at 7 something that morning (it's still a blur!). He was healthy, he was perfect.
I gave T the option of cutting the cord. He was her son. She declined, and Erik did it. He was born and quickly whisked away to the nursery. All I remember saying was 'Someone go with him, I can't let my baby start out life lonely.' Such is the worry of a mother.
Enough for tonight. Tomorrow, my reaction to his birth and going back to the real world!
With Love Always
Me
Months seven and eight were pretty uneventful. I started to realize what adoption was, what was actually happening, but there were no real milestones. B's gender became evident just a few weeks before he was born. Yeah, I somehow found the one doctor left with a fuzzy, blurry 1980s ultrasound machine.
H & T didn't have a baby shower before he was born, and I do not blame them. I imagine this was a very scary time in their lives. At work, everyone knew my decision. I will write later about the reactions I got, but let's just say none were positive.
I worked right up until the day I went into labor. I had sort of planned it that way. The morning of September 14, 2007 I got up, like any other day, and went into work. I was less than productive that day. I remember just feeling off. All I wanted to do was curl up and be alone, in a very instinctive sort of way. I left work early. I bet they placed odds on if I was going to give birth that night, but I didn't know what was happening. I went home, napped, and the bf and I decided we needed to eat.
I stood up to change and the gush happened. Like may women, I thought I had peed on myself. When I was still gushing ten seconds later, I knew. I called Erik into the room and told him that we weren't going to get food. When he asked why, all I could think of to tell him was 'I'm leaking!'
I suppose we should have had a birth plan. Instead of rushing me to the car or some other thing, he ran to the neighbors house to ask them what to do. The she neighbor walked over, found me seated on the toilet, had a chuckle and sent Erik back, with instructions that today was the day.
I dressed in clothes that I knew I would never see again (amniotic fluid just seems...gross to me) and stashed a towel or two between my legs. Into the car we both went. It was a stormy, beautiful night. We made it approximately six blocks. Erik decided that we should have taken the other car, and I was delirious with excitement, anticipation and ... horomones? I dont know, but back to the house we went. Cars were switched and we were off again. This time we made it two miles. The car was out of gas. After a brief pitstop, we were off.
Erik, no matter how I feel about him, amazed me that night. In a flash, we were at the hospital. I was still giggly. He called T and she met us at the hospital. For the rest of my life, I will always cherish what she said to us in the private moments on the elevator to L&D. She said 'You guys know, if you decide you can't do this, you can have all of our baby stuff.' Even now, I cry when I think of it. I don't even know if she remembers saying it.
Once we were checked in and into a room, the nurse came in and did what they do. I was 4 cm dialated. This was about 8 at night. By ten, I had an epidural and was settled in. I was still giddy. It was pretty fun, honestly. We took bets on what time B would be here. We snacked. I fell asleep on my hands and knees. Erik and T both slept off and on through the night, but neither ever left my side.
Sometime in the middle of that night, we realized B still did not have a name! I told T that there was not time like the present, that he was about to be here. Realization flashed across her face. This was real. She called H, and before long they settled on a name. Blake Edward. Now he could be born!
I even had fun pushing. It was strange. Lucky for me, I didnt push for too long. Every push I gave, he would descend, and get sucked right back up inside of me. Dr decided that a suction cup would help. Too bad B was hard headed! The Dr attached his suctioney thingy to B's head and pulled and pulled and pulled. POP! The suction broke. Blood flew everywhere. I thought B's head had come off! The dr thought that was hilarious and assured me that my baby was still on one piece. Next, forceps. Those did the trick. B was born at 7 something that morning (it's still a blur!). He was healthy, he was perfect.
I gave T the option of cutting the cord. He was her son. She declined, and Erik did it. He was born and quickly whisked away to the nursery. All I remember saying was 'Someone go with him, I can't let my baby start out life lonely.' Such is the worry of a mother.
Enough for tonight. Tomorrow, my reaction to his birth and going back to the real world!
With Love Always
Me
Thursday, January 13
Part 2
Where did we leave off? Oh yeah, we had just found out H was interested in adopting our child.
It couldn't have been a week later that we nervously went to their house. I imagine it was more awkward than I remember, because I only remember bits. I remember thinking 'oh, they smoke. That's no good for babies.' and 'They have this huge house. It will be perfect.' I must have been 3 months along at that point. Whatever was said that night, by the time we left they were soon to be parents.
Then <b>it</b> happened. Erik cheated. Not so important to this story, but important to me.
T went with me to every dr appt, met me at the hospital when I didn't think I would ever quit puking, and invited me into their house whenever I wanted to come by. H was just as welcoming and loving and awesome. He and I aren't nearly as close as T and I, but that is OK with me. T and I share something, and that is that we are mothers to an amazing boy. I watched them build his nursery, play with the children in their families, love one another and work for everything they had. They were it.
I found out when I was about 6 months along that they were also in foster parent classes. They had tried for seven years for a child, they could not handle the heartbreak of an empty house if we changed our minds. I was, and still am, so proud of them. When they graduated the classes, I was over the moon. Now they knew even more about raising a kid, and my child could have brothers or sisters. I was scared they would no longer want my baby, but it was just the opposite. They wanted him even more.
Not long after they got their foster license, they received the call. Three children, all taken via CPS, needed a place to sleep for the night. This was like a trial run to me, could they suddenly be parents? They looked like old pros. Suddenly their house was bustling. There were three kids all under 5. Daycares and lunches and toys and bedtimes. It made my heart scream. Yet I was still scared they would not want my baby. Now they had kids, what did they need me for? (I bet that sounds funny to you adoptive mommas out there!) T missed one appointment with me. She had kids to care for. It scared me even more. I bet she was just as scared.
I tried not to let myself fall in love with the baby growing inside me. Most of the time I felt as if it were someone else's child, like I was disconnected. I will never forget the night I fell in love with B though. We had moved from our crappy apartment to a house, complete with a back deck. It was nighttime, clear and beautiful. I laid under that deck staring at the stars for hours, with tears streaming down my face. I just kept telling B (whose gender we were still uncertain of until about two weeks before he was born!) that I loved him, that he should stay inside as long as he could because that was the only time he would ever be only mine. I looked at the stars and told him no matter what we would always be under the same stars, with love always. That is when it became real.
Part 3 shall come tomorrow. I'd hate to bore you guys ;)
With Love Always
Me
It couldn't have been a week later that we nervously went to their house. I imagine it was more awkward than I remember, because I only remember bits. I remember thinking 'oh, they smoke. That's no good for babies.' and 'They have this huge house. It will be perfect.' I must have been 3 months along at that point. Whatever was said that night, by the time we left they were soon to be parents.
Then <b>it</b> happened. Erik cheated. Not so important to this story, but important to me.
T went with me to every dr appt, met me at the hospital when I didn't think I would ever quit puking, and invited me into their house whenever I wanted to come by. H was just as welcoming and loving and awesome. He and I aren't nearly as close as T and I, but that is OK with me. T and I share something, and that is that we are mothers to an amazing boy. I watched them build his nursery, play with the children in their families, love one another and work for everything they had. They were it.
I found out when I was about 6 months along that they were also in foster parent classes. They had tried for seven years for a child, they could not handle the heartbreak of an empty house if we changed our minds. I was, and still am, so proud of them. When they graduated the classes, I was over the moon. Now they knew even more about raising a kid, and my child could have brothers or sisters. I was scared they would no longer want my baby, but it was just the opposite. They wanted him even more.
Not long after they got their foster license, they received the call. Three children, all taken via CPS, needed a place to sleep for the night. This was like a trial run to me, could they suddenly be parents? They looked like old pros. Suddenly their house was bustling. There were three kids all under 5. Daycares and lunches and toys and bedtimes. It made my heart scream. Yet I was still scared they would not want my baby. Now they had kids, what did they need me for? (I bet that sounds funny to you adoptive mommas out there!) T missed one appointment with me. She had kids to care for. It scared me even more. I bet she was just as scared.
I tried not to let myself fall in love with the baby growing inside me. Most of the time I felt as if it were someone else's child, like I was disconnected. I will never forget the night I fell in love with B though. We had moved from our crappy apartment to a house, complete with a back deck. It was nighttime, clear and beautiful. I laid under that deck staring at the stars for hours, with tears streaming down my face. I just kept telling B (whose gender we were still uncertain of until about two weeks before he was born!) that I loved him, that he should stay inside as long as he could because that was the only time he would ever be only mine. I looked at the stars and told him no matter what we would always be under the same stars, with love always. That is when it became real.
Part 3 shall come tomorrow. I'd hate to bore you guys ;)
With Love Always
Me
Wednesday, January 12
The Story, part 1
I promised my adoption story last night, and here I am tonight to deliver. I suppose I will start where all things start, in the beginning.
Erik and I started dating in May of 2006. We moved in together in July. Yup, it was quick. We've pretty much been together the whole time either of is has been out of the house. Things were, well, as good as they could be until about December. We split for a few days that month. I foolishly ran to a mutual friends house (T, as he shall be known) as to not be home with Erik (in our tiny one bedroom apartment). Well, we all know what happens when you run to the mutual friends house. Yup, there was some hanky panky. This is something I am none too proud of. After 2, maybe 3 days of being separated, Erik and I were back together. T and I still talked off and on, and awkwardly T worked with me.
Fast forward to the end of January. Erik realizes I am late, and off to the store we go. I hadn't really paid it much attention as I have never had an exact cycle really. We were on our way to the local public library anyway, so that's where I peed on my stick. Three minutes in the bathroom, and two pink lines later I was pregnant. He knew just by the look on my face. We previously had 'the conversation' about what to do if we got pregnant. I advise everyone to do this, committed relationship or not. It made the next two weeks a thousand times easier, knowing that we had already decided on adoption before B ever even existed. Erik was scared the child was not his, but T's. I knew different, but that was a rec-curing theme throuoght my pregnancy. Actually, T got another woman pregnant near the end of my pregnancy.
The search started that day. Online, we requested dossiers from several adoption agencies, both local and out of state. We started our requirement list. Must have pets. Must not be independently wealthy. Must not be too broke to support a child. Must value a good education. Must have a large extended family. Travel didn't matter, cars didn't matter. When the dossiers arrived, they just felt wrong. How could I trust someone to raise my child just by these ten pages they had written? Most were photos of extravagant houses and tales of how they were stay at home parents, traveled all over the globe and just looked...entitled. No thanks.
Enter H. He was Erik's boss at the time. He was(is?) also Erik's friend. Erik went to him, in confidence, and told him that we didn't know what to do. This next part always makes me cry when I tell it. Sorry. H then told Erik how he and T had been trying to have a child for 7 years, that all they wanted was a family and that if we were considering adoption, they would be honored if we would consider them. I will never be able to explain the feeling, but when Erik called me at work to tell me that, I knew we had found THE family.
Ok, this is long enough for tonight. More soon!
With Love Always
Me
Erik and I started dating in May of 2006. We moved in together in July. Yup, it was quick. We've pretty much been together the whole time either of is has been out of the house. Things were, well, as good as they could be until about December. We split for a few days that month. I foolishly ran to a mutual friends house (T, as he shall be known) as to not be home with Erik (in our tiny one bedroom apartment). Well, we all know what happens when you run to the mutual friends house. Yup, there was some hanky panky. This is something I am none too proud of. After 2, maybe 3 days of being separated, Erik and I were back together. T and I still talked off and on, and awkwardly T worked with me.
Fast forward to the end of January. Erik realizes I am late, and off to the store we go. I hadn't really paid it much attention as I have never had an exact cycle really. We were on our way to the local public library anyway, so that's where I peed on my stick. Three minutes in the bathroom, and two pink lines later I was pregnant. He knew just by the look on my face. We previously had 'the conversation' about what to do if we got pregnant. I advise everyone to do this, committed relationship or not. It made the next two weeks a thousand times easier, knowing that we had already decided on adoption before B ever even existed. Erik was scared the child was not his, but T's. I knew different, but that was a rec-curing theme throuoght my pregnancy. Actually, T got another woman pregnant near the end of my pregnancy.
The search started that day. Online, we requested dossiers from several adoption agencies, both local and out of state. We started our requirement list. Must have pets. Must not be independently wealthy. Must not be too broke to support a child. Must value a good education. Must have a large extended family. Travel didn't matter, cars didn't matter. When the dossiers arrived, they just felt wrong. How could I trust someone to raise my child just by these ten pages they had written? Most were photos of extravagant houses and tales of how they were stay at home parents, traveled all over the globe and just looked...entitled. No thanks.
Enter H. He was Erik's boss at the time. He was(is?) also Erik's friend. Erik went to him, in confidence, and told him that we didn't know what to do. This next part always makes me cry when I tell it. Sorry. H then told Erik how he and T had been trying to have a child for 7 years, that all they wanted was a family and that if we were considering adoption, they would be honored if we would consider them. I will never be able to explain the feeling, but when Erik called me at work to tell me that, I knew we had found THE family.
Ok, this is long enough for tonight. More soon!
With Love Always
Me
Tuesday, January 11
Jumping in, with both feet
Well, here I am! For those of you who know me, you know this is my style. For those who don't, welcome. I am Debbie. I jump in with both feet and don't realize I shouldn't have until the splash has splooshed. I don't know how regular this blog will be, or what it will be about in the end. All I know is here I am, giving this a shot.
My story tends to not be simple. Feel free to ask questions along the way if something doesn't make sense. For now the characters are as follows.
Me - I am 24, livin in Seattle, birthmom to an amazing 3 year old boy (see that cutie over there?), struggling to find my way. I sell car parts by day, and I am a twitter junkie by night.
Erik - The on again off again boy, father to birthson, 23 year old who specializes in frustrating me
Jeff - Younger brother. Twenty-two years old. He has no ambition or desire to be independant.
Mom - Not eager to let go of her role as 'mom' and realize her children are adults.
T- Blake's adoptive mom. I love her to infinity and beyond.
H - The adoptive dad. I don't talk to him much.
For now, I live in (momentarily) snowy Seattle. I am hoping to move back to Va where the birthson (Blake) is by April. This state just isn't home. It's gonna take some doing, but if everything falls into place, I have a plan to make that happen. There aren't many outside of internet land who know I am planning the grand escape, so let's just keep that between us, ok?
I suppose that's enough for now. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will relay my adoption story. I love telling it. It's not often I have people to listen.
With Love Always
Me
My story tends to not be simple. Feel free to ask questions along the way if something doesn't make sense. For now the characters are as follows.
Me - I am 24, livin in Seattle, birthmom to an amazing 3 year old boy (see that cutie over there?), struggling to find my way. I sell car parts by day, and I am a twitter junkie by night.
Erik - The on again off again boy, father to birthson, 23 year old who specializes in frustrating me
Jeff - Younger brother. Twenty-two years old. He has no ambition or desire to be independant.
Mom - Not eager to let go of her role as 'mom' and realize her children are adults.
T- Blake's adoptive mom. I love her to infinity and beyond.
H - The adoptive dad. I don't talk to him much.
For now, I live in (momentarily) snowy Seattle. I am hoping to move back to Va where the birthson (Blake) is by April. This state just isn't home. It's gonna take some doing, but if everything falls into place, I have a plan to make that happen. There aren't many outside of internet land who know I am planning the grand escape, so let's just keep that between us, ok?
I suppose that's enough for now. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will relay my adoption story. I love telling it. It's not often I have people to listen.
With Love Always
Me
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