Do I look Real?

Something a non-adoptive birth parent probably never thinks about is the word "REAL". But this is a word that has become one that has brought about a great deal of emotion for Brian and I.

When we first got Daylen and introduced him to all of our friends and family, one question that was often asked was, "Did you get to meet his real mom?" It always would bring a tug to our hearts and a tiny lump to our throats, but not wanting to hurt feelings we would just answer, "Yes, we were able to talk with her for the few days we were in the hospital."

We would often discuss these moments and question our reaction. What I really wanted to say is, "Are my breaths real? Is my skin real? Is my love for this perfect child real? Is the worry of him being taken away from us at any given moment real? Is waking up in the middle of the night just to see if he's breathing real? Are the tears of complete delight real? And are the tears of complete fear real?" But of course this was not a response I would want to give. So we decided on a reaction that would be more appropriate. "Yes we were able to visit with his BIRTH MOM when we were there."

It didn't take long for people to catch on to what we were saying. So, for you adoptive parents out there.....NEVER feel as if you are not REAL! You are more than real to your child. Your hugs and kisses are real. Your smiles and cheers are real. Your complete Joy is real!!! And for you non-adoptive parents...unless you are talking to a cardboard cut out, please don't assume they are not real. Their feelings are very real and the love they have for that child they are holding is more real than one could ever imagine.

Traditions

It's Christmas time!! My favorite time of year! I LOVE the lights, songs, cookies, movies...all of it. And I have a few traditions I like to practice. I like cutting down a fresh tree, and going home to decorate it while watching a Christmas movie. And when it's decorated we turn all the lights in the house off and turn on the tree lights. Then we wrap up in blankets and go look at the house from outside. Crazy? Maybe! But it's what we do.

This year was the first year that Daylen really got into the whole decorating thing. He loves the lights and was a amazed that we had a tree in the house. He walks around the house gently touching the decorations and turning on all the singing stuffed animals. It is such a joy having a child in the house at Christmas time. The magic comes back.

As I was watching him watch "Rudolph" I felt a tug at my heart. For every Christmas tradition I share with him, is one that his birth mom doesn't get. I am the one that gets to see his face on Christmas morning. I am the one that lets him eat Christmas cookies for breakfast. I am the one that shops for the perfect toy and wraps it up and nervously waits to see if he likes it. I guess I felt a little guilty.

So this year....a new tradition. Since we are blessed with an open adoption, we have the opportunity to share pictures and letters. We are picking a few extra pictures this year and making a "Year Journal" for Ashley (our birth mom). We chose pictures of our year and I downloaded them to a little scarp book (Shutterfly, Walgreens, Snapfish, etc. They all have them) with the story of what we were doing.
We send pictures through the year, but most of them are of Daylen. These are of all of us "living our traditions". I figure as Day gets older he will be able to help us pick out pictures and tell us what he wants to say about them.

I am not trying to fill a void. I am only trying to build a bridge that joins us together a little easier. So she can see what his life is and I pray she sees it as what she wanted for him.

I'm trying to make you proud

Our son has beautiful big brown eyes. The kind of eyes that can look right through you. We call them his "Hershey Kiss" eyes. I literally pray for strength to stand up to those eyes.

Yesterday, we were having a serious study on the book, "I Love You Through and Through" when Daylen looked at me and was desperately trying to explain something to me. Like every mommy I acted as if I understood. While he was going through his report of the book I was looking into those brown eyes of his. I saw myself. I'm not just talking about my reflection, I am talking about MYSELF!

Shortly after the book report I laid him down for his nap and I went to my room and knelt down. This is what I prayed:

"Heavenly Father, You know that we are beyond grateful for the blessing you gave us when you gave us Daylen. And You know I come to You often with prayers of Thanksgiving for him. Today, Lord, I come to You for guidance. I saw myself in his eyes today. And Lord it made me realize those perfect brown eyes are absorbing my EVERY move. Help me be the Mommy that those eyes see walking in YOUR path. Make me the Mommy that never brings unnecessary tears. Give me the knowledge to know when those eyes are saying words that are unspoken. Lord...more than anything....Make me the mommy that those eyes will look at with pride!"

Later that day I was doing some laundry when I came to the conclusion that I really don't care what the world thinks of me. As long as I am making my son proud....that is all I ask! And I know that if I am doing things that make him proud I am on the right path to making HIM proud too!

3:00 a.m.

Daylen has always been a GREAT sleeper. Ever since he was born, he would sleep all night. In fact, his first few weeks, we would have to wake him up to eat. Even now, it takes a lot for him to wake up in the middle of the night. So, since I know he won't wake up, I will pick him up after he has gone to sleep to kiss and love on him.

Last night was no different. I woke up around 3:00 a.m. to use the restroom, and on my way back to bed I took a little "pit-stop" in Day's room. He was sleeping so soundly and peacefully. But of course I couldn't resist. I picked him up and kissed his little head. I ran my fingers through the tiny curls in the top of his head and wondered if his birth father ever wondered about his hair color. I ran my finger down his button nose and wondered if his birth father ever smelled baking cookies and thinks of this tiny boy. I kissed Daylen on his tiny lips and wondered if his birth father ever spoke the words, "I love you son." I felt his beautiful heart beat and wondered if his birth father's heart ever aches with the emptiness of not knowing this child. I held his tiny hand in mine and wondered if one day when he is older, will he look at those same hands and ask if his birth father has hands like his. I cradled his fat little foot in my hand and wondered if one day he would walk up to his birth father and say, "Thank you for giving me the best life I could have."

I often wonder if I will ever meet this man. Only the Lord knows if this day is written. Yet, I know what I would say......"Thank You for giving me the best life i could have!"

A complete Outrage

Hi Friends! It has been too long since I have last been in here. Between Daylen, Brian's sports, church events, and my new hobby....crocheting, I have been away. But I came across a story today that made me take time out! I am outraged about it.

I'm sure most of you have heard about the Adoptive Mother in Tennessee that adopted a 7 year old boy from Moscow. For those of you who have not, the rest of the story goes like this....

After only a few months, she felt as if the boy had mental issues, so she bought a one way plane ticket wrote a note and put her 7 YEAR OLD SON on a plane and back to Moscow. The note saying that the orphanage lied to her about the boys mental health and they she did not want him.

I am completely astonished at this on soooo many levels. As an adoptive mom I know the heart ache of wanting a child and not being able to biologically have one. I know the thrill of getting matched. I am assuming she had some warmth in her heart to feel some of these emotions. So, how could she go through these emotions and then just decide to "return" him like a shirt that doesn't fit. This poor child!

So, let's look at her point of view. She gets the boy home. She then discovers that he is a abusive and feels as if he is mental unstable. Instead of getting this child help, she decides to send him back. I am not certain on the time frame. I have tried to see how long she actually had him, but I cannot determine that. I am assuming that is within a six month frame. This child has just spent 7 years in an orphanage, fighting to be heard. She thinks that he is just going to snap into American life?

I do not know the Tennessee laws, but in Illinois we had to have post-placement visits after we got Daylen. This is when a social worker meets with the parents and the child to see if everyone is doing o.k. Did she not have to do these? Did she NOT have a support team, to help her through this? Did the agency encourage this? I cannot believe anyone would tell her, "Send him back. He is a bad egg."

What in her heart told her this was a good idea? Yes, there are days when Daylen has torn the house apart, and he is screaming from the top of his lungs, and he won't listen to me, but NEVER NEVER NEVER do I think, "send him back!" NEVER!!!!!!

I do like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so let me try........Maybe he was a handful and she realized that she could not handle him on her own. (She was a single woman, not married or with a partner) Maybe she lied awake at night praying over this decision. Maybe she tried to get him help, and it just wouldn't help. All of this said, still brings me back to the answer, I cannot imagine ANY adoptive mother putting a 7 year old on a plane alone with a note. She says this child had mental issues.......I am thinking this is the pot calling the kettle black.

To increase my outrage....Moscow has now decided to stop all U.S. adoptions. Meaning, that any U.S. family that had their paper work in and waiting for a match will not be getting a child. This lady's one act of carelessness has deleted thousands of hopes for over a thousand families.

My prayers are with that child. He felt the hope of a family, and it was taken away. Then again.....if this was going to be his mother.........I don't know if it would have been any better.

Hold you children close. Kiss them, even when they are screaming, laugh when they won't listen and remember the ache you felt before you had them.

I won't feel guilty

I am blessed by being a stay at home mommy. This is what I have always wanted to be. When I was a child and someone would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was always, "A Mommy." I suppose this stemmed from my own mom being a stay at home mom. I never remember a time when she wasn't there. Even in High School I knew if I called home at noon, my mom would answer the phone and be ready to jump to whatever I needed. I loved that. That is what I wanted for my child.

So when the day came when Brian and I decided that we could "make it" for me to be a stay at home mom, I was thrilled. I imagined those days when my child would call me from school and I would hop in the car with the forgotten homework and take off to save the day!

I love it! I love every minute of being the one that gets Daylen out of bed, to feed him breakfast, to be the one he runs to when he falls down, mostly I love being the one that gets to watch him become his own little person. But there are days when I look around the house and I realize that I had done nothing but play with Daylen. I didn't do ONE load of laundry, the dishes are stacked beside the sink, toys are tossed in every direction, and cookie crumbs are sprinkled all over the floor like confetti.

I barely get dinner started before Brian gets home from work on days like these. But I do manage. It never fails that while at dinner Brian will ask, "What did you do today?" It took me a while to realize that he wasn't asking to see what I got done, but to see what we did. Yes there is a difference.

I use to cringe when this question was asked. I hated hearing myself say, "Nothing".

A few months went by until I realized I got more done then I thought. Just because I couldn't see what was accomplished didn't mean it wasn't complete. I showed my son love, I gave thousands of kisses, I did hundreds of hugs, I encouraged imagination, I expressed that my son came before a clean house. So, no I won't feel guilty that I did nothing today, because I know that I got a lot accomplished

The Hardest Good-bye in History

After 23 hours in a car, two and a half days as hospital visitors, four meals in the hospital cafeteria, a VERY emotional phone call with our lawyer, and many heart to heart conversations with Ashley. It was finally time to take our son and go to our hotel and start our new life.

The day started normally. We got to our room, visited with Ashley, adored Daylen, visited with nurses and social workers,and played some cards. Our routine while we had been there. We were told that we would be able to released as soon as the Dr. checked them, so we watched the clock and tapped our toe until she finally came in. When she gave us the o.k. we could hardly contain ourselves. We were so anxious. One of the nurses, Melissa, (our favorite) came in and was going through some discharge information with us. Somewhere in the excitement I missed my phone ringing. I finally realized the missed call and message. The case worker had called to inform me that there was an issue with the Birth Certificate. It seemed as if the birth father's name was on it. By hospital policy, if the father's name is listed then he has to be at the hospital for discharge. Now in a traditional setting this wouldn't appear to be a big deal, but in our setting.....it was a HUGE DEAL! We, nor Ashley had, had ANY contact with him. We didn't even know where to find him, let alone get him to come to the hospital.

With the quick work of the our favorite nurse, our favorite hospital case worker and a really great social worker the issue was resolved in three and a half short hours! (gulp) As I sat in the room adoring my son I realized that in three more hours I would walk out of that room with my new family, but Ashley would be left in that room with no one. Watching her personality through the morning I knew she was thinking the same thing. I suggested to Brian that he and I walk down to the cafeteria and get some lunch. What I was REALLY suggesting was that we left the room for some time to allow Ashley to have those last few hours with Daylen. Maybe she wanted to say something to him, maybe she just wanted to hold him, maybe she wanted to do nothing but stare at him. Whatever it may be, I wanted to allow her the space to do that.

We stayed out of the room for a good three hours. I don't know what was said or done in those hours, and I don't want to know. That is theirs.

When we figured it was about time for all the appropriate people to be around we returned to the room. Ashley and Daylen were both napping. She in her bed and Daylen in his "crib" both facing each other. Brian and I softly walked in and watched T.V. About ten minutes later the room was full....two hospital case workers, one social worker, and a Notary Public came in with looks of delight/sadness. My stomach sank, it was time. How could my heart be half full of joy and half full of sadness. These two emotions were literally fighting each other within me. As hard as I tried, I couldn't look at Ashley. I focused on the bundle she was holding.

One of the social workers read some words to Ashley, Ashley signed some paper, we signed some papers, the Notary signed and it was done. The case worker looked at me smiled and said, "O.K. You can go.".....It sounded simple, yet my body was froze. Something I longed for was finally here, and I ached to do it. I felt myself walk to the side of Ashley's bed. She was curled over our son sobbing. I heard her softly whisper, "It's good, I will be O.K." I bent over and she placed this magical gift in my arms. Her tears of pain, and my tears of joy both fell on the little cheek that bonded us forever. I pressed my cheek to hers and whispered, "We will always love you."

Moments later Brian, myself, and OUR SON stood in the hallway in a tight, tearful embrace. The moment we had waited on had finally arrived. We were now a family of three. I never knew that becoming the family I longed for would require such a difficult good-bye.