A Twist in My Story...

I have an older sister who is a roudy and rambunctious ball of energy. Possibly one of the most fun people on the planet, she can turn any errand into an adventure. She is the closest to me in age out of all of my siblings, so we have been stuck together like glue since I was born. When we were young this was a chore for her, but as we got older we became friends. She is one of the only people I feel like I can say ANYTHING to. She tells it like it is, no sugar coating, and I love that she can cut any issue right down to the bone in a quick second. She and I were also pregnant together with our sons. She was due a few weeks after me, but she ended up being early and I ended up being late and so Bubba (her son) was born 6 days before Dawson. The discrepancy in their size was huge, so we called them Timone and Pumba (that's Dawson's foot on the left compared to Bubba's on the right). One of my biggest fears in placement was that the boys would not get to know each other. I always wanted them to be close, best friends, like my sister and I have been.

Many people wondered how I would deal with having Bubba around. I will admit, even I was scared of how he would make me feel. Since I had a C-section I had to have someone in the house to help me for the first week or two. Since both my parents worked and there was no one else, my sister had to be the one to stay with me. I didn't have a chance to avoid being near Bubba. I thought it would be so hard. My heart was still aching so badly from the blow of placement. I thought for sure that this little baby being in the house would kill me. How could I see him, hold him, be near him, watch my sister with him without my heart breaking all over again? The first morning they arrived I tried to just ignore them, I hoped my sister would keep him quiet and away from me. No such luck. He cried and moved and caught my attention. My sister was obviously exhausted from nights awake with him, so somehow at one point I ended up with a little lump in my arms. He fell asleep, and shortly after that my sister fell asleep too. I lay down on the couch with him still wrapped in my arms and I just watched him for a while. This was so different than I imagined. Shouldn't this hurt? Shouldn't I be wracked with sobs from just seeing him, let alone holding him close? How was it possible I could still get attached to this bundle of chub?

I don't know how it happened, and I certainly don't know why, but somehow that baby boy did not hurt me by being there. Somehow he did the opposite, he held my wounded heart together while it scabbed over. He stemmed the bleeding of my tortured soul. I still cant express how important my nephew was in my grieving. He wasn't so much a reminder of what I was missing as he was a way for me to connect with Dawson and know what stages he was in. I babysat him as often as I could, often having him sleep in bed with me at night. Cuddling his soft, warm, baby body against me and loving every minute. He was a gentle nudge of happiness during an otherwise despondent first year. Maybe I am just imagining it but I always felt like I had a special kind of bond with him. He will always be one of my favorite people.

As time passed and I moved beyond the grief, Bubba has remained an important piece of my life. Every time I have a visit with Dawson and his family I make sure that Bubba can go too. The boys amaze me with how they seem to just pick up their friendship like it is so familiar. They don't see each other for months or years and yet they play together like no time has passed. I'm so grateful that they still get to be the friends I always imagined they would be.

Open...

Do you remember the first time you heard about open adoption?

This is the question posed in this edition of the open adoption roundtable.

If I'm being honest, the first time I realized there were different forms of adoption was after I was already pregnant. I never had any experiences with adoption before that. It was a foreign concept to me. I was so set against the idea that I tried not to pay much attention to the details. It seemed so painful and unnecessary. Why on earth would I ever do that to myself? I had a lot of misconceptions. I thought I would be separated from my son forever, I knew I could not handle that. I thought I would have to wait that painful 18 years before he could come and find me (misconceptions brought to you by my silly soap opera habit at the time). I thought he would hate me.

Things changed. My SW was kind and sweet, she listened and I'm sure many times she wished she could make me see the seriousness of this situation. It wasnt until I started having pre-term labor that things really hit me. This baby boy was by far the most amazing thing I had ever created, the most awesome and perfect gift. While I was seeing rainbows and butterflies my world was falling down around me. I was not able to return to school for most of my junior year (would I be able to finish high school?). My parents were struggling daily with bills and the stress of 2 pregnant daughters (could they still support me with the baby?). J's parents were not much better off, and I had no idea if they would want anything to do with us. J was dissapearing more and more frequently, had lost 2 jobs and was unreliable at best. When I finally started listening to what my SW had to say about openness, I was thrown into a totally new field of dreams. Could I find a place in my life for these strangers? Could I make it through this? Would they ever accept me? Could I really be part of my son's life and still give him the wonderful parents and home he deserved? Yep, I thought I could do that.



So I did, I didnt know how this would all turn out. In the beginning things were only "semi-open" meaning we knew eachother's first names and sent letters through the agency. As time passed and the restrictions became fewer, we found out more about eachother. I remember the first time I knew their last name, I felt kind of mischeivious because I found out by accident, I was so excited I squeeled. As time has passed, we have exchanged phone numbers, addresses, emails, and had many visits. I feel a deep and abiding love and respect for these amazing people. The trust we have built is a beautiful thing that I hope to nourish forever. I cant imagine what my life would be like without open adoption...

Adoption Art of the Week...

Dedicated to D, G, and C

This week we return to my broadway roots. I am in serious love with the musical "Wicked" at the moment. I have it on the brain.



While listening to one particular song toward the end I felt a twinge (which happens alot) and realized once again the adoption link:




For Good:


Im limited...
Just look at me - Im limited...
And just look at you
You can do all I couldn't do, Glinda
So now it's up to you
For both of us - now it's up to you...


I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason,
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good


It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made from what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
Know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

I have been changed for good.

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore


Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood


Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better...


And because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

I have been changed... for good
--------------------------------

Here is where my heart is at this point: True, I could say it is a good one to dedicate to Dawson. That wasnt the first person I thought of when listening (and singing along) to it though. Perhaps because it is 2 women singing of their friendship, or maybe I am just always grateful for her to begin with, but I realized I would want this song dedicated to D. I believe this is mostly due to the beginning:"Im limited...Just look at me - Im limited...And just look at you, you can do all I couldn't do...So now it's up to you, for both of us - now it's up to you". I remember wondering how one woman would ever be able to convey the love of two mothers to this precious baby boy. How in the world would it work? She would have to be some kind of super mom... and she is, to me. She is patient and loving and kind at all the right moments. She is everything I could have dreamed of and more. As I listened through it one more time my gratitude broadened to include G and C as well. I am so grateful for them all. I have been changed because of their kindness and strength. I know I am blessed to have known them and had the chance to love them. They have always been understanding and generous. Found ways to spend time with me and make things easier. I have never met a more amazing family unit, and I know that I made the right choice when I see them all together. If I only had one message to give them it would be that they have been a huge influence in my life, and made me better for it. I wish I could hug them every day for being such amazing people. So this is my virtual dedication to the most amazing Mom, Dad and Sister that any boy could ask for, and the best kind of friends this birth mom could imagine.

Weighed, Measured and Found Wanting

"You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting." A Knight's Tale


This statement has stuck in my mind on many occasions. I realize that to a normal person hearing this may just bring to mind the movie reference, or a picture of Heath Ledger in Medieval garb (insert wolf-whistle here). For me it perfectly describes my own thought processes around the choice to place. Being "found wanting" for me has a double-meaning. Yes, I was lacking in knowledge, skill, maturity, financial security, etc.. but I also felt a desperate need (a want if you will) to give my child these things. As much as the statement seems to imply my lack of readiness, it also (IMHO) describes my desire for better opportunities for my son. He was the one person I could not live without, but also the only person who I was willing to give everything for.

I will not say the decision was an easy one, that would be an outrageous lie. I was dead-set to be the perfect mother for my son. I figured that where there was enough love it wouldnt matter how much money we had. I still believe that children born into poverty can become amazing individuals, and I do believe that love is a major need for all children. I also do not believe that my son would have ended up starving or unclothed with me. I know we would have had a community of family behind us. At first I was convinced that J. and I would get married, get jobs and have other children eventually. My little family would be perfect and all would be well with the world.

Unfortunately life is not the fairy tale I thought it would be and just because I had the capacity to be a mother did not mean I knew what was ahead for me. The first major turning point was the day I found out about J.'s infidelity. It was the first time I had been betrayed in that way and I had no idea how to deal with it. I never thought I would be one of those girls who clung to a boy to fulfill my life, and I knew that by forgiving him I was doing just that. I thought if I let go of him my dreams of family would be shattered. I couldnt deal with that. So I held on tight and tried to ignore the late nights, the lies and the mistrust. After a while it became habit, and even blatantly catching him didnt jolt me out of the illusion that he would change.

Then came the day when it was no longer just me being effected. One night J. was gone without a trace, I had no way to reach him and no idea where he could be. My heart pounded hard, and I may have been hyperventilating, I know I was crying. Every possible scenario ran through my brain, was he dead, stranded, lost, or was something more devious going on? I tried to sleep but couldnt relax, tried to watch a movie but couldnt focus. Early the next morning, after sleeping shortly, I woke up because the baby was doing cartwheels. I felt my stomach move furiously. Then stop completely. I was scared already, but tried to calm down and relax. I had pain in my stomach but thought it may have been from all that kicking. After almost 2 hours of no movement at all I told my mom we needed to head to the office of my CNM. We had called her at home and she encouraged me to come in right away, we were there less than 10 minutes after the office opened. Machines were strapped to me and my CNM checked my cervix. After about half an hour the baby started to move again and my CNM informed me I was having regular contractions. I was less than 7 months pregnant, but the stress was causing me to go into pre-term labor. I had already started effacing, and had to be given something to stop the contractions. I would be on bedrest for the remaining weeks of pregnancy, and would have to have periodic ultrasounds and visits with a specialist.

I went home with orders to rest and relax, and shortly after arriving home finally heard from J. He had been staying the night at a "friend's" who was female, but he claimed there was nothing going on and I was "being paranoid". I told him about the morning's excitement, and that I could no longer go to school. I think the fact that he was not there during this crisis finally drove home that the change I wanted would never be possible. I cried, and sat on my bed and tried to find the strength to call him back and say we were through. I felt weak and foolish, but I couldnt do it. So I talked to the baby, asked him what he wanted me to do.

I believed in God for alot of my life, but I also have a stubborn side that really needed freedom. Growing up in a religion with rules about pretty much everything, and being shunned by many after becoming pregnant, had given me a reason to step back from God for a while. For the first time in years I felt something I couldnt explain. I heard every piece of advice from every person who had asked if I considered adoption. My sister, my parents, friends, peers, and a counsellor/caseworker my parents had me going to. For the first time the idea took form in my head, and I didnt shove it to one side as usual. I thought about what life would bring in the next few years for me and my baby boy. Thought about separate houses, and parents fighting and coming to hate eachother. I thought about the strain on my own parents' finances, and how I would have to work and most likely quit school. I knew in my heart that J. and I would never make it together, we would tear eachother apart. Picturing my baby boy watching as his mother was disrespected over and over until she finally broke down and gave up on that future. Knowing the example his father would be, and the amount of time I would be away from him. It was like my life flashed before my eyes, and I knew that I couldnt bare all the dissapointment it would bring.

So, just for a moment, I tried on the choice. I would place him with parents who would love him just as I did, who would be together always and respect eachother. A father who knew that being a man was about the respect you can give others, and a mother who would have the heart and the experience to teach him about life. They would have fun vacations and holidays filled with laughter. Maybe I would be in their lives or maybe they wouldnt want that. It was like I could see their faces already, and I knew right then that this was not just something I was thinking about doing, but something I must do. It felt right even while my heart broke. I knew that if I chose his well-being over my own emotional needs I would never regret it. I WANTED these things for him. I had weighed and measured myself, and found myself wanting more for this child who I loved.