tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61768191185742258162024-02-07T04:00:42.291-08:00Nurture Your Hopes"Though at times the story of your life is unsettled, at its center there is the certainty of hope and the promise of good things to come."Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.comBlogger205125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-52132737994550025422014-09-16T20:35:00.001-07:002014-09-16T21:37:39.463-07:00He asked for her!August was a crazy month - Jackson turned 4! Four, people! And Addison started preschool (Jackson went last year too). Wow, these babies are growing up! In all of the chaos, it is always stilling when a child says something that brings you back to what matters. Today, as I was driving the kids home from preschool Jackson said, seemingly out of the blue, "Mommy, why we don't see T any more? I miss her. I love her." T is his birth mother. And oh my gosh, my heart broke.<br />
<br />
Let me back up. When we began this adoption journey, the scariest thing (think like big monster with gigantic teeth dripping with saliva) was this whole birth parent situation; not the actual birth parents, just the whole situation. We wanted to be parents SO badly, and the thought of our child having other parents was more than we could comprehend. We feared that those other parents could somehow take away from our role in our child's life. Would he love them more? Or maybe just like them more? Would he wish we were them? Would he reserve some of his love for them and only give us some? Could I really be his mom when another woman carried him in her womb and gave birth to him? Very. Scary. Stuff.<br />
<br />
Cut to today, in an innocent moment in the car. My son asked for his birth mom. And I did not feel one ounce of fear. I just felt a little sad, because I worried about how I might engage T as she just had another baby and is deep in the infancy stage with him which has meant some distance from us (more than the already too-much-distance-for-me we already had). I asked Jackson if he missed her and he said yes. He told me again that he loved her and I assured him that she loved him too. I told him I would try to set up a time to see her and he said, "No! Call her now!" I told him I would text her. He asked if she could skype with him. There was a sense of desperation in him that I had not heard before. And I couldn't make it happen for him. I texted her, and I have not heard back. Once Jackson was placed in my arms, THIS became my biggest fear - that he would need those "other" parents and I would not be able to provide the comfort he needed.<br />
<br />
Luckily, Jackson is 4. While I doubt he has forgotten that conversation or his desire to see T, he has moved on emotionally from it for now. I have some time. But his birth father, A, has already cut all ties with us. It was too much for him. I just want to make sure that Jackson has access to his story, his birth family. I just want him to be whole. So when he asked for T today and told me he loved her, I felt nothing but desperation with him - to get him to the person he wanted to see and to assure him of her love for him. <br />
<br />
My love for Jackson is not a love you can plan for, it is something that overtakes you and consumes you. What I didn't know back when I had all of those fears was that this very love would be strong enough to push out any of my own fears. I would face any scary thing on this earth for this little boy, to make him happy, to make him whole. <br />
<br />
Adoption is a beautiful thing.<br />
<br />
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-4155710066802374532014-07-10T09:19:00.000-07:002014-07-10T09:19:11.080-07:00Everybody and Their DogSo one of those times in the time-space continuum seems to be upon us. You know those times. The ones when it seems that every woman of child bearing age, her sister, her dog and her next door neighbor are all PREGNANT. When I was in the clutches of infertility and resulting despair and grief, I was often told that it was all in my head - that many people were pregnant all the time and I was just noticing it more. And I was made to believe I was crazy so many more times than I can count - because in our majority culture, grieving deeply and not hiding those yucky emotions = crazy. Yet, here we are. I have 2 sisters pregnant, 3 staff members at work pregnant, multiple friends pregnant (many of whom had miraculous "surprise!" pregnancies which packs an entirely different punch) and, yes, even people's pets are procreating successfully! I show up to group trainings out of town and 3 out of the 8 attendees are...yep, you guessed it, pregnant. <br />
<br />
I have taken this opportunity to notice my reactions to all of this, now that I am on the other end of my struggles to conceive. Each time I get a pregnancy announcement, each time I walk into a room that holds multiple pregnant bellies, I notice. Immediately, I notice. What I don't experience, though, is that sinking feeling in my stomach that makes me feel like I have to throw up or that heavy pressure in my chest that threatens my ability to breathe. This suggests to me that those years of pain did not disappear. They are attached to my very being and are along for the ride and can rise to the surface at any given moment. But, when they do surface, they do not hold as much power. The whole process reminds me of a cut on my finger that I received about two months ago while cutting up vegetables with a newly sharpened Cutco knife (ouch!). It was so deep, bled like it could fill an ocean, and hurt like...well, a lot. My stomach turned and I felt dizzy and I cried against my will because the pain and fear was so so big. It healed slowly, with time and with careful application of medicine and bandaids. Today, you can barely see the scar. You have to look very closely. It has faded into the smoothness of the skin on my finger. Yet, when I move my finger a certain way or, God forbid, bang it on something - wow, the pain is there; not as intense as the day the knife sliced it open, but definitely there. So when I am bombarded with multiple pregnancy announcements and baby showers and births and generally all things baby, it is like banging the "cut" in my soul that resulted from so much loss and pain and I once again feel a dulled version of the searing grief. <br />
<br />
What happens next, though, is what I find so intriguing. I immediately see my son's face in my mind. And then my daughter's. I instantaneously and uncontrollably feel my love for them in the pit of my stomach and in the depths of my heart. I remember that without the pain that led to my deepest wounds so far, I would not have them. That thought is too big to bear - and so I don't follow those memories much further. That must be healing. It is not erasing, or disappearing. It is healing. I think the expectation is that once we have our baby(ies), we no longer get to have feelings about pregnancy, babies, fertility, or loss. I'm here to tell ya', I have those feelings whether they are "permitted" or understood, or not. Only they have transformed in their meaning. They now serve as a reminder of the elasticity of my heart and the resilience of my soul. I am always in awe as I watch physical wounds heal over time. What a magical thing my body is to be able to do that! What a gift it is to know that our souls have the same power.Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-56077136709312522572014-05-25T14:59:00.000-07:002014-05-25T14:59:48.229-07:00It Takes a Special Kind of Person To...I'm sure you've heard people say this in reference to many things. Heck, I know I've said. I often hear it about my work. "Wow, Faith! It takes a special kind of person to do the work you do." Today, I heard my husband say it. It was in direct response to my ongoing dialogue about wanting to eventually adopt a child from the foster care system. I pointed out people we know (even peripherally) who have already taken this path. His response was, "It takes a special kind of person to do that."<br />
<br />
I disagree. And I've been thinking about this statement that we all use so soften. And I've come to think that maybe we use this statement to distance ourselves from the action that we know needs to be taken. Maybe, just maybe, when we say that it takes a "special kind of person" to do something, what we are saying to ourselves is, "Well, that special person is not me, so I don't need to feel guilty that I'm not doing it." Guilt is a difficult emotion to endure...and our egos move us away from it very effectively. However, I would argue that guilt is a necessary emotion that we should not only not avoid, but should lean into. It is with a healthy dose of guilt that we move towards doing the right thing, that we try to right our wrongs and that we sometimes choose to move past our comfort zones.<br />
<br />
I said to Jason when he made this statement, "We are special people. YOU are special. Look how happy and loved your kids are, how they are confident and social in their world, how sensitive they are, how smart and funny they are...YOU are a part of that. YOU have it in you." He replied that he's already exhausted, pushed to his limits some days, short on patience and lacking the relaxation time and sleep he wants to have. I wonder, does he think that these "special kind of people" aren't also exhausted, overwhelmed, pushed to their limits daily, and often question what in the world they got themselves into? You see, when we defer to the "special" people to do hard things, we also put them in an angelic-type box. And then what we do is leave ourselves out of the box because, of course, we know we are nowhere near that divine level of patience and kindness. And then what happens then? We become inactive. People suffer. In this case, kids in the foster care system suffer. <br />
<br />
As I read this to Jason, making sure to get his permission to post this, he pointed out that guilt is not in the equation for him. There are other reasons for his resistance to this idea. Maybe even reasons I will get to explore here later. That is his experience, and he has a right to it. But, I do think guilt plays a part in how we use this phrase, and why we use it...in some situations. I also think it can play a part in dampening our emotions and moving us away from scary things. If my unconscious guilt stops my thinking there (you know, that part that tells me there is this special breed/class of people somewhere out there doing said good deed) then I don't have to roll up my sleeves, put on my galoshes and trudge into the deep, dark, murky water of "hard stuff." So, if guilt is in your equation, or even if it is not, maybe it is worth exploring? Perhaps the reason you can't or won't do something is just the surface. Perhaps there is more to be learned about yourself. And perhaps someone else could benefit from your self exploration. Perhaps...Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-52321046909286632542014-05-21T20:14:00.000-07:002014-05-21T20:14:13.215-07:00Things I Didn't Expect...When Jackson was 17 months old, we lost all contact with his birth father, "A." He had visited Jackson three times (not counting the social worker bringing Jackson to meet him when he was discharged from the hospital) by that point. The last time we were together, we met at a Children's Museum, had a wonderful day, and promised to meet up again soon. We even sent pictures over text of the kids sleeping in their car seats after our big fun day together. Then he stopped responding to all texts, emails and phone calls. Just like that. Luckily, we are in touch with his parents (at his request, he urged them into our lives, and we are so thankful that he did) and they finally passed on the message that A decided he did not want to be involved in Jackson's life anymore. They gave their impressions as to why, but because I have not talked to A, I do not feel comfortable speculating publicly. I was not prepared for the feelings I would have in this situation.<br />
<br />
My first, gut level feeling was sadness. Intense grief. We love A, and Jackson is a piece of him. It was our pleasure to share the amazingness that is Jackson with A. It's clear that Jackson takes after him in many ways. The thought of Jackson not having that connection with his biological father broke my heart. I still cry when I think about it, the pain is that deep for me. I remember saying to my mom over the phone soon after we received the news that no, A was not just busy, he had intentionally stopped responding to us, "Mom, I don't get why I am so sad about this. I can't seem to shake it." She said, "Honey, your dad did the same thing essentially." Oh yeah. Shit. While the situations are completely different, as a child, I felt abandoned by my dad. I still do in many ways. Whether he actually abandoned me, whether he really loved me...or not...were not important pieces of information as a young child. All that mattered was that I would go a year or more without talking to him and I often waited three years at a time to see him. On a deep level, I was not feeling Jackson's sadness, I was feeling my own. As I processed it more, I was also feeling sadness as Jackson's mom. Because now it is ME who will have to try and explain to him why A stepped out. It is ME who will have to try and help him understand that A loves him, even if he can't show him that love right now. And it is me who knows that no matter how many times I say those things, Jax will feel what he has to feel. I can't protect him from this.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to feeling number two in this story. Anger. Raging, burning anger. Because he is hurting MY son. Yes, I know he is technically "our" son (with A obviously included in that "our"), but when someone is hurting him, he becomes MY precious baby to protect. How dare he step out and leave me to pick up the pieces? How dare he leave me to answer questions that only he can answer for this sweet boy? How dare he NOT want to see this little boy who wears dimples and a smile just like his, whose laugh brings joy to everyone he meets, and whose sensitive heart most certainly has some origin in him? I just don't understand it. He is <i>rejecting</i> our son. And I don't approve. Not one little bit. <br />
<br />
These are feelings I did not expect to experience in these ways going into this whole adoption thing. The power that birth parents hold over our children is staggering. At the beginning of the process, I knew expectant parents held power over ME. I knew that it was they who would decide if I was worthy of being a mom. I also thought I knew that once papers were signed, the power was all mine. I could make this hypothetical child into anyone I wanted to. I could raise him my own way. Looking back, I'm not sure how I missed this. I saw birth parents as a beautiful addition to my child's life and didn't think to prepare myself for what would happen if his birth parents actually hurt him. And of course, I could never have known how vulnerable my heart would be. I am at Jackson's mercy. If he hurts, I hurt. If I even think there is a chance he will hurt, I hurt. <br />
<br />
Nope, I did not expect this at all.Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-6848238622055863162014-05-20T20:49:00.001-07:002014-05-20T20:49:43.074-07:00Sharing my StorySo, a few things have happened recently that have led me to think that the time has come for me to think more, talk more and hopefully write more about my story; specifically about how I became the mother of two children who are a mere six months apart in age. I think the part of my (our) story that many people find so fascinating is the open adoption part. I often say that I don't get that, how people are so surprised and, dare I say, impressed by our story. I know so many other parents walking that same road. And yet, somehow, it just isn't talked about in the broader culture. From my perspective, being entrenched in the adoption world, it is just life as normal. Yet, there are these reminders that have become frequent lately that suggest that the life we are living with our children, with our son's birth family, is not "life as normal" for everyone. I've decided I want to share our story, and I want to try my hand at writing about it and see what comes of it. <br />
<br />
Two things happened recently that have led me here. First, a friend of mine has written an amazing book that I will be posting a link to here, on my blog, when it is released on Amazon on Memorial Day. It is about her long and arduous road through infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss. In her book, she talks about her fears and anxieties about adoption. When she describes how difficult the concept was to her, how impossible it felt to her that she would be able to love a child who was adopted as much as a biological child, I realized that I have something to share with her, and with other parents or parents-to-be out there. The second thing that happened that my sister found herself talking with a woman she had just met about our story. The woman shared with my sister that she had placed a baby for adoption many many years ago and that she had also adopted two children. She said her birth son found her when he was an adult but only met with her once because his adoptive parents had such a hard time supporting him in this relationship with his birth mother. I thought, how sad. When my sister finished telling her about our relationships and our view on adoption, the woman had tears streaming down her face. She asked my sister to thank us (thank US?! Still blows my mind). And then I thought, perhaps my story is not just useful to other potential (or current) adoptive parents? Is it possible that our story, our hearts, could also provide support, hope and encouragement to birth parents or parents considering placing their children for adoption? <br />
<br />
What I know is this: if there is even a small chance that I could add something to our culture's story about adoption (which, let's be honest is an inaccurate and fear-based story overall), then I should write. I don't know where my writing will go, but I am committing publicly, here. So stay tuned...(for the few of you still around:))Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-20331302005501410392014-04-22T20:54:00.003-07:002014-04-22T20:57:09.105-07:00I wanted to share...Well I am still here, just barely:). A couple of years ago, I wrote an <a href="http://eidsonfamilyjourney.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-articleas-promised.html" target="_blank">article</a> for a professional newsletter about adoption and shared it here on my beloved blog. I got a wonderful response. I was asked to write a follow up recently and learned a lot in the process of writing the follow up. I am not sure if anyone is really here reading anymore, but if so, I wanted to share here. This has really started me on a journey of wanting to write more about adoption. I am amazed at how much fear, anxiety and ignorance is out there around the topic of adoption. Maybe I will be back here writing some thoughts out and hoping some of you will still be around to read them. In the meantime, here is the article I wrote. Happy reading!<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Quieting the Adoption Ghosts: A Personal and
Professional View<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">By: Faith
Eidson, LCSW, IMH-E® (IV)</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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It has been two years since I wrote “Adoption Ghosts,” and I
found it challenging to think about writing a follow-up to that piece.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that article (MIAIMH Infant
Crier, Winter 2012), I described how I came to adopt my son, Jackson, now three
years old, and how he came to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also described ways in which our story of adoption impacted our developing relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I prepared to write again, I found that
I kept asking myself “Who am I?” and “Who is Jackson?” and “What does this all
mean?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In asking these questions,
I realized I was stuck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
know the answers to any one of these questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is hard to write about something that feels unknown and
undefined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After careful thought,
what did become clear was my own process of exploring the unknown, and how
different I feel now in the process than when I wrote that piece.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also stumbled upon some
fascinating and, I think, key themes in my own development as a parent that
seemed to parallel the development of so many of us in the infant mental health
field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who is Jackson?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Jackson is a bright, charming, artistic, observant and
sensitive three-and-a-half year old boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He has the chubbiest cheeks that are so fun to kiss and he loves to
laugh and make people laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
adores his family, plays confidently with his sister, impresses his preschool
teachers and draws any stranger to him when we are out in the community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has been drawing people’s attention
and compliments since the day he was born. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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We adopted Jackson when he was five days old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has a birth father, whom I will call
Tony, and a birth mother, whom I will call Molly, who will forever impact who
he is in a multitude of ways. What we remember of Tony (he stepped out of
Jackson’s life when Jackson was one year old and we have not heard from him
since) is that he is kind, empathic, athletic and a gentle soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also tends to see things as “black
or white” and shows little flexibility in many areas of his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loves sports and he enjoys
doing puzzles in his spare time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What we know of Molly is that she has a troubled past and has made some
unhealthy choices, but that she also is a compassionate and kind person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is gorgeous, and she seems to
have a magnetic quality to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Molly has an artistic side and is creative and currently runs her own
business in fashion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She can
tolerate seeing multiple perspectives and she can think outside of the box and
take risks. Both Molly and Tony are extremely intelligent and resourceful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the first time we spoke with them,
we liked them a lot and felt drawn to them. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who am I?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am the kind of person who likes to understand things, to
master them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoy exploring my
inner self, and I have immersed myself in a field that allows me to help others
on their path to understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am the mom of two children, born only six months apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am the wife to my high school
sweetheart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a giver, and I
seek connection with everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am also a therapist, supervisor, trainer and consultant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am these things, and so much
more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What does this all
mean?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s a good question!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As an adoptive parent, we spend months or years wondering
who our child will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We often
don’t know race, gender, biological history, or even when or how our child will
be born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are asked to
preference categories (do you prefer a white baby or a biracial baby, what
medical needs are you willing to accept, boy or girl, mental health diagnoses
of biological family that are acceptable?), and it seems to be a desperate
attempt to contain the uncontainable; to define what our future child will be,
which is futile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the excruciating
months of waiting, I did a lot of wondering and attempting to master the things
I could master.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read
books, blogs, articles, really anything I could get my hands on, that were written
by adoptive parents, birth parents and adoptees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to talk about the kind of adoptive parent I was
going to be and what kind of relationships I was going to strive to have with
my child and with his or her birth parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we found out I was pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we learned that Tony and Molly had chosen us to adopt
their baby, due in two months and predicted to be a girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began a new line of planning: we will
have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i> kind of relationship with
Tony and Molly, we will do <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">these</i>
things with our baby, we will send <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">these</i>
mementos to Tony and Molly - you get the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had images of this baby and who she would be,
melding versions of Tony, Molly, my husband and myself into one picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then our dreamed about baby was born,
and in that moment of learning that he was a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">boy</i>, I believe something shifted within me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the beginning of the development
of a more complicated “me” that I am not through exploring or
understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have noticed this
shift both in parenting and in my professional realm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I wrote “Adoption Ghosts,” I was describing my process
of “making sense” of things as Jackson’s mom and in my narrower role as his
adoptive mom. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I write today, it
seems I am in a different process of accepting that there is no “right” way to
make sense of any of my observations of and interactions with my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His sensitivity and “slow to warm” personality could be a
genetic marker from Tony or it could be that his experiences as our first child
led him this way, or it could be a mixture of those two things and many other
unknown factors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he gets
angry and pushes me away, I could analyze it, as I did in the previous article,
and worry myself into a frenzy that he is re-experiencing his early days of
life…or I could wonder about his development, e.g., the normality of an 18 month
old to get angry at mommy when she leaves him in a contained area, the
difficulty of a toddler at his age to calm himself quickly, and the expected ambivalence
he is beginning to experience in his relationship with mommy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he shows a particular skill, such
as putting together puzzles, I could attribute this to his biological father
enjoying and excelling at puzzles or I could wonder if he learned to love them
because we provided so many opportunities for him to enjoy them or I might hope
that he has already begun to internalize his mommy’s intense persistence at
tasks until mastery is accomplished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since child development is not linear, it is not possible to ever really
know what makes them the way that they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As parents, and as therapists, we take guesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We follow threads back and try to
figure out where they began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
figuring out where they began, we can avoid feeling as overwhelmed by these “threads”
of emotions, beliefs and behaviors that inevitably become tangled within
relationships and begin to look messy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The problem is, even when we have it “figured out,” there is no way to
know if we are right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
professionals, we talk about our ideas so assuredly, as if our clinical
hypotheses are reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
parents, we often talk about our children’s traits as if we can see a causal
link between daddy’s years playing basketball in high school and his daughter’s
love for basketball: “She gets that from her daddy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes us feel like at least some things are
predictable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I am learning is
that they aren’t actually predictable, and when we expect them to be, we might
become disappointed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since bringing Jackson home, I have noticed a shift from
needing to know and understand (and conquer) to allowing myself to entertain
and explore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end, does it
matter why Jackson has a difficult time saying goodbye or why he seems
particularly drawn to art?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even if I made guesses, the answers would be just that:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>guesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no way to ever prove my hunches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is who he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether he gets his incredible charm
from Tony or Molly or my husband or me, it doesn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether his anger boils over and he
reminds me of myself at times and also triggers my worry related to his
biological family history of mental illness, it doesn’t actually matter in that
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have to figure out
a way to respond appropriately and to support him through it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To do that, I have to be right
with him in those moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I
allowed my head to go to analyzing in the midst of those interactions (my
common response to fear) then I would leave him behind, which is exactly what I
would never want to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is incredibly freeing to realize that
I can’t know these things, and therefore don’t need to search for the answers. I
can just be me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can just be his
mom; and he can just be Jackson, my sweet baby boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can live in the moment together. This is not to say that
the many threads that weave together to make us unique are not worth
exploring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They absolutely
are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we pick a thread of
ourselves, study it, feel it, notice where it is damaged and frayed and then
notice where it glimmers in the light, we know our whole selves a little bit
more. When we do this for our children, or for the children and caregivers we
serve, we help them to know themselves a little bit more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The danger lies in moving from observing,
noticing, exploring and wondering to knowing and doing, and then getting stuck
there<span style="color: red;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>I
have especially noticed this tendency in adoptive parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can become so focused on the
adoption thread, that other threads seem to fade into the background: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the child’s temperament, our own
histories and personalities, environmental influences since their birth or
placement with us, and many other pieces that come together to make our
children who they are and make our relationships what they end up being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can be tempting to look for and find
the adoption strand in many interactions with our children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While it is important to hold the
adoption theme in mind, it is also important to hold our minds and hearts open
to exploring other important pieces of the whole picture.<span style="color: red;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I experience this shift in thinking, I can’t help but
notice the parallel to our work with children and families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a development of the
professional that starts with an intense need to “know,” to convince others of
our “knowing” and then to fix what it is we think we know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our beautiful field of infant mental
health, we talk about the importance of just “being with,” but I know I
struggled with this concept for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I still do, if I am being honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, my experience in adopting my son and entering a world that was
so foreign to me - only to be led down a path of unknowns towards my son, who
is perfect just the way he is, has given me the gift of learning what it really
means to “be with.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Similarly,
it is possible for clinicians to become so focused on one piece of the story,
that other pieces of the story seem to disappear – it can be a parent’s or
child’s trauma history, particular ghosts that appear in the story, and/or the
interactions in the present that seem particularly problematic, even critical,
needs for focus and response.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While
we are so focused on seeing and fixing this one important piece, we fail to notice
others, such as beautiful moments of connection between the parent and child,
particular strengths the parent has demonstrated despite their traumatic
history, or possibly our own history and how it has become intertwined with the
family’s story. What I have learned to practice and promote as an infant mental
health specialist and mentor is no less important in my life as a mommy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So, can I do this? A
reflection…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Adoption is a leap of faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some might argue that adoption is a slightly larger leap
than is made when having children through birth, due to all of the unknowns
that accompany an adoption situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Adoptive parents spend so much time before actually receiving our child
trying to wrap our brains and hearts around who will soon come to us and how we
will manage it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the baby<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(if the child is placed during infancy)
is placed in our arms and what we worried about before that seems
inconsequential when compared to the “bigness” of that moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn’t that how attachment begins?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is this intense desire to know
another, and along the way we learn to know ourselves a little more deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson came with all of his
systems ready to attach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could
I not fall in love? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if it did
not happen immediately, that was ok. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing now, I have the benefit of time with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With enough time, our relationship has
had opportunities to wrestle with rupture and to be strengthened by
repair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within all of those hard
moments, those awe inspiring moments, and those ordinary-every-day moments, we
learned that we are ok together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are confident in who we are within ourselves and who we are to each
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, there will be more to
come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could worry about how he
will come to understand his story as he grows older or how I will find the
right words (because if I use the right words, it will hurt less, right?) to explain
to him how he came to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
when I feel my heart going down that road, I remind myself of our solid
relationship and our intense love for each other <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">right now</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Similarly, I
wonder if that might be the gift we bring to the families we meet professionally
and have the opportunity to be with and know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We see them in this moment, and we feel tenderness for them
in this moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We may not love what
came before this moment and who knows what will come after it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when I sit here, in your kitchen,
and we talk about the kind of mom you want to be for your baby, I am holding
you and caring for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So maybe
this concept of “holding” that Winnicott so beautifully gave us has an anchor
in being present in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With this concept as anchor, every step taken forward into tomorrow is
taken together. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our todays and
tomorrows become intertwined, even after we leave those relationships. Our time
together will always have “happened.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that is
what I find so comforting and so grounding about my relationship with Jackson –
the past three-and-a-half years of loving and liking (and sometimes not
liking!) each other will always have happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our paths toward the future are forever united.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why would I ever want to untangle that
and try to analyze what makes him him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or what makes us us? He will show me what I need to
know, when I need to know it, if I can only stay present and pay
attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can do that.</div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-20063647952859932072014-02-17T19:20:00.001-08:002014-02-17T19:20:08.252-08:00Baby Girl is Three...And Mommy is StrugglingMy baby girl is 3. THREE! I have to say, I am very surprised by my strong reaction to this particular birthday. I cried when each of my babies turned one, but so briefly. I'm pretty sure I was too tired and too overwhelmed to really explore my feelings too much. Then two kind of flew by me...then Jackson turned three and started preschool and I thought, "It's ok, Faith, you have one more baby, she's not three yet!" So I was able to enjoy Jackson's turning three and moving out into the world (ok, there were some tears, but I made it through). The problem with that is that Addy was soon to be three, and I had to deal with it then. Now. Ugh.<br />
<br />
There are many reasons why "3" is such a big milestone - it seems like they can do so much more by this age. They officially leave the "toddler" phase and move into the "preschooler" stage. But, for us, Addison's third birthday marked the last time I would nurse her. I had set that age as my "limit" about a year ago when it became clear that she was probably not going to wean herself. As it got closer, I dreaded it. We were only nursing right before bed, but it was our time. It was special and comfortable and intimate. We both relaxed and bonded together before she went to bed. If I could have continued nursing her, knowing she would eventually wean herself, I would have. But I honestly don't think she would have weaned any time soon...and I just couldn't see myself with a kid in preschool who nursed. I know this is a cultural limit set for me...but I still can't seem to get past it. This breaks my heart even more because I am giving up something we both love because it is not culturally acceptable. There were also some medical reasons that led me to wean - too many times that I needed a medication but couldn't take it because I was nursing. I am looking forward to one less complication in that area. <br />
<br />
Bust mostly I'm just sad to say goodbye to the last piece of "babyhood" we had left. I absolutely adore that my children are growing and thriving. I know that I am blessed beyond words to have two healthy, happy and amazing babies (big kids!). I just wish it didn't have to go by so fast. As much as the days can be hard, I know that each moment is a gift, and those moments are so fleeting. I spent so much of my life waiting for the day I could hold my babies, rock them, nurse them. Then those days came and I was in a fog and then they were gone. Just like that. Addy cried the last two nights and asked me "when can I nurse again? It's not my birthday anymore?" It killed me to tell her that she won't nurse again - because I knew that it meant that I won't ever nurse my baby again. How did such and amazing and magical part of my life fly by so quickly? I sure do love my babies, and I love parenting them (ok, most of the time:)), but I don't like the part of parenting that is so bitter, so heartbreaking. I don't like saying goodbye to some of the sweet phases, to the first steps, to the first "mamas," to the bottle feeding, to the first giggles. The bottom line is, I suck at change. I like things to stay the same as much as possible. And, of course, children never stay the same - ready or not, they plunge forward into newer and more complicated areas of development and we, as parents, spend our lives frantically trying to keep up while we desperately try to capture the beautiful moments in our memories and dump all the hard ones from our minds. It's too much, I tell you!<br />
<br />
I do know, though, that with each new stage comes loss AND fun. For this new stage, Addy and I had our first pedicure together. I took Addy with me to a pedicure when she was just a couple of weeks old and she slept in the stroller. I remember dreaming of the day I would take her to get her own nails done. That day finally came.<br />
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Gosh, I love her. This parenting thing sure is a trip, isn't it?Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-86125293011399017712014-01-20T20:17:00.001-08:002014-01-20T20:21:14.133-08:00ReminiscingGosh, it's been awhile. A long while. Every time I write, I swear I'm going to do it more regularly. But when I have the time, I don't have the energy...and vice versa. So, here I am, checking in with you all. I am seeing beautiful updates of smiling families and heart wrenching updates filled with loss and grief. How does life get to be this hard?<br />
<br />
I write partial posts in my head all of the time. What led me to this place tonight, though, is a strong desire to reminisce. A close family member had to say goodbye to her twins last week. They (she and her husband) tried for a long time, used medication, many of you know the "infertility dance" all too well...and then they finally finally got that second line! We were all so excited! They talked about the pregnancy with a level of cautiousness and fear that only someone like you or I could understand. I did my best to offer them hope and joy - to remind them that in <i>this</i> moment, they were pregnant and that was to be celebrated! But then they went to their first ultrasound, found out she was carrying twins, and found out that both had stopped growing weeks before. Those of you following my blog might recognize this story - minus the twins part, this is exactly how it happened for us. Twice. My heart just sank when I heard the news. Why does parenthood have to be this hard? Hard to achieve? Hard to hold onto? Hard to understand? Just hard!<br />
<br />
This whole experience led me to take a stroll down memory lane. I am SO under water with these 2 little ones that I hardly have a moment to look back and remember the hell I went through to get to them. I am one of "those" moms who complains about little sleep, temper tantrums, busy schedules and damn it, he just won't listen to me! I vividly remember talking to a friend on the phone who was also going through fertility treatments and telling her, "I would KILL to have my house be a mess if only I had a baby in my arms!" Cut to 4 years and 2 kids later and I can lament about messes and chaos with the best of them. I am IN it. <br />
<br />
Every once in awhile, though, my mind jumps back to those days as I stare at my little ones, and I literally feel like it has all been a dream. How did I get here? With 2 kids? Not babies. Kids! They ride bikes, people!!<br />
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Part of why I haven't written here is because I can't seem to make sense of life anymore. I hear of young moms dying and leaving behind babies, I hear about babies dying and leaving so many broken hearts in their wake, and I try to make sense of my own situation and what it all means. My mind is literally swimming all the time. I am under water. And then I think: This is what motherhood is. I wanted it, here it is. At least for me, motherhood means feeling off-balance a lot of the time. I am forever seeking balance, but never quite achieving it. And, yet, I wouldn't trade it for anything. It may not be the fantasy I had envisioned it to be before these two came along, but I was right when I knew I would love it. </div>
<br />
These two kids are incredible. Jackson is probably the most sensitive, creative, charismatic and sweet boy I have ever known. Addison is literally a "mini-me." For better or for worse, she mimics all of me. I see the best of me reflected in her actions and the worst of me played out right before my eyes. It is unreal. She is unbelievably smart, tenacious, stubborn and beautiful. They are mine. How that came to be, I guess I will never understand. I am doing my best every day to be the best mom I can be to them. I fall short of the mom I thought I would be every single day. The best I can say is that I don't quit, I keep coming back and trying again. The fact that I <i>get</i> to come back every day, as their mom, to try again is the part that I know is a gift. I don't know if I would have seen that if I had not had to walk the path I did to get to them. Of course, I would have loved them dearly...but would I have truly known what miracles and blessings they are? Would I have been able to access that knowledge in the hardest moments? I'm not sure, because the hardest moments are dark and deep and messy as messy can get, and I am the kind of person who could get swept away by that. But because I can remember that I fought hard for them, went through so much pain and heartache to get to this place, I do believe I am a better mom. When we look back at our journeys, if we can see purpose, maybe our hearts can heal a little. I know mine has.<br />
<br />
I could say much much more but it's late, I'm tired;). That was enough reminiscing for one night for me:). Thank you to those who still stop by and read and say hello - I sure do love you all!<br />
<br />
Oh, and I plan to write soon (I know, I know, prove it!) something to follow up my post on giving... I did get more information about what a shelter the one I mentioned needs, and I have also started up another project to benefit foster children and children who have entered shelters with their parent, for any reason. More to come...Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-87180968584359276822013-10-27T21:05:00.002-07:002013-10-27T21:05:44.642-07:00I've been thinking....So let me start with a strange feeling that came over me. Then I might go back and explain where I think it came from...although I'm not sure it matters. In the middle of the night Friday night (or rather very early Saturday morning), I woke up and began planning how I could help children this Halloween who would not have the kind of special experience that I would make sure (have already made sure) my kids would have. I had a dream about a shelter for foster children, orphans who had no place to go. Jason (my husband) and I were there and we took home 2 children, a teenage boy and an elementary aged girl, just to take care of until they found homes. I had such an intense need to help in my dream. As I laid in bed after I awoke from this dream, I felt shame because one of my big worries going into the weekend was how I would get to the mall to get the boots I had been eye-ing. I knew I had to do something. And my half-asleep brain could only think about Halloween, about so many children who would not get to decorate pumpkins. So I hatched a plan at 2:30 in the morning to bring pumpkins and decorating accessories to either the children's shelter outside of town or the domestic violence shelter in town. After an hour of planning in my head of where I would buy things, where I would go, what I would say...I finally fell back to sleep.<br />
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I woke up Saturday morning to a busy morning. Jackson had a soccer game, and his birth-grandparents were coming to see him play. We also had park time planned and lunch after that. Surprisingly, my mid-night planning did not leave me. It kept rising to the surface. So, while the kids played with grandparents at the park, I got on the phone and called the shelter. They had 5 children there, and I was assured they would love to decorate pumpkins. When our lunch was over and the kids were (finally) down for naps, I left on my mission. I was compelled. I <i>had</i> to do it this weekend, I just had to. So I did. I shopped, I dropped the stuff off, was thanked by the staff, and I drove away.<br />
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Here's the thing, as I drove away, my mind went to what these poor children in transition would do with these pumpkins? Who would take cutesy pictures of them with their pumpkins, post those pictures for friends and family to adore, and store them in multiple places to make sure the memories were kept forever? No one would. No one held them in mind...no one held their stories. <i>This </i>is the tragedy, the heart ache that kept me up in the middle of the night. These children have no one to hold their experiences, their joys, their firsts, their lives. No one. <br />
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My children will have costumes and parties and pumpkins and crafts and pictures and we will talk about it for weeks. And when they are 10, we'll talk about when they were 3 and were so cute saying trick or treat. And when they are 20, we'll talk about how mom was a goof and dressed up as Eeyore and they laughed at me. And when they are 30 and have their own children to take trick or treating, we will reminisce together about our Halloween adventures and about what beautiful children they were, and how blessed I am to be their mother. I hold their stories. They hold mine. No child should be left with no one to hold their stories. <br />
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So, daily, I cry. My heart aches. As I write, tears stream down my face. I know I have to do more. I don't know what more is yet. But I will be in touch with the shelter, and I will find out what they need. Surprisingly, I work with foster children stories every day in my line of work, and I don't often feel this overwhelmed with sadness...or actually, I do. I just don't feel so compelled to do something like this. I think this all began with the story of the teenage boy who so publicly begged, he <i>begged</i>, for a family. Then I read the stories of the other children, some who were so close to 18 and aging out of "the system" but still desperately wanted a family to come home to, a place to belong, a family to <i>hold</i> them in mind as they moved out into this big world. No child should have to do that alone. But so many are. We can't adopt one now. Maybe not ever. Who knows what life has in store for our family. I can assure you, though, I am going to do more for these kids than I am doing now. I live such a selfish life where boots and pedicures and headbands for Addy and soccer practice for Jackson often dominate my mind. It's not ok. Not for me. I will do more.<br />
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So, I will post cutesy pictures of my kids in costumes with adorable pumpkins in the background. I will go on and on about the amazing energy and joy they bring to my life. I'll even complain about how freakin' hard it is to parent these little human beings. That's what I do, that's what they deserve - a mom to love them. But today, this story, this post is for <i>them</i>...those children who may not even take the pumpkin with them to their next stops, who won't have anyone to enjoy this Halloween with them and who won't have anyone next year who will remember what this Halloween was like for them. They deserve to have their stories told too. <br />
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So, I've been thinking....what else could we all do for them?Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-86216099692614907362013-09-17T15:59:00.001-07:002013-09-17T15:59:49.748-07:00With Hope, The Odds Don't Matter!After my last post, a reader reached out to me and asked me to share her story in honor of Mesothelioma Awareness Day on September 26. Heather was diagnosed with mesothelioma 7 years ago when her daughter was 3 1/2 months old. She was told by doctors that she would have 15 months to live. She fought, she lived, she beat it and now she is spreading hope. I am amazed by her story and I thought you might be too. As I write this, I am struck by the title of MY blog, "Nurture Your Hopes." I clung to stories of hope in my dark years of infertility and loss. The quote under my header really held me up when things seemed so hopeless. I was told that my husband and I had a 7% chance of conceiving a child on our own and carrying her to term. We have Addy now (conceived with absolutely no medical support), who is 2 1/2 years old and full of LIFE! Please visit Heather's website, read her story and maybe spread some hope on your blog, facebook page, or whatever social networking site you find most appropriate:). Her site is: <span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 25.59375px;"> </span><a href="http://www.mesothelioma.com/heather/awareness/">www.mesothelioma.com/heather/awareness/</a><br /><br /><br />"Deep inside us, we have a spirit of energy and determination, a spirit that refuses to be broken - and we call this hope. Even when life's challenges overwhelm us our hope inspires us to rise to new heights."<br />
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-35239146515134401372013-09-10T21:32:00.000-07:002013-09-10T21:32:05.079-07:00Our Baby Boy Turned 3!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Gosh, it has been SO long since I've written. I want to, I love to write...but to find the time and energy seems impossible. I have never been so overwhelmed and "under water" than I have been lately. But...enough about that! Our baby boy is 3! I still remember the posts I wrote (and the wonderful comments from you all) when Jackson was born....and when the papers were signed....and when I got to meet him for the first time. In some ways it seems like it happened just last week, in other ways it seems as though I have lived a lifetime.</div>
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This boy brings out the best of me, and the worst of me! He is 3, and he knows exactly how to push my buttons! But look at that smile - what a sweet boy he is! Everyone adores him and he makes friends wherever he goes!</div>
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Jackson started preschool 2 weeks ago. It is still surreal to me. He goes 2 mornings a week, and there have been some tears (his and mine), but I suppose this is all part of growing up and moving forward...for both of us. He and I are struggling with new roles - sometimes he wants to be a baby still while I just want him to leave me alone and be independent, and then sometimes he just wants to assert his individuality while I just want him to be my baby again. This parenting thing is tough. And I'm not sure I'm doing a good job most days. We both keep trying, though. And we love each other more than anything in this world, that is one thing I DO know for sure. Since going to preschool, Jackson has become so much more affectionate. He runs to me and holds me tight when I show up to pick him up. He randomly kisses me and tells me he loves me. He has begun to want to snuggle on the couch more. He is still my baby. He always will be.</div>
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Little Miss Addison knows that she can go to preschool when she is 3. Sometimes she wants to stay with him, most times she likes that she gets to go with mommy. She is doing really well with the separation and I am always amazed by her courage, strength and tenacity. She also presents some challenges - pushing to be a "big girl" and independent, then falling apart crying and whining for long periods of time. It is exhausting to try and keep up with her!</div>
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These 2 love each other so much. They know they are "sister and brother" and they always want to know where the other one is. They are as bonded as any sibling pair I have ever met. I love to watch them when they are playing (calmly!) and talking to each other. They say the cutest things when it's just the 2 of them:).</div>
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Jackson truly is my sunshine. I feel so blessed to have him as my son. I am still in touch with his birth mom and it just feels good to know that I have her "blessing" to be Jackson's mom. She has stepped back and supports me in my role. She loves us, but she has her own path now. When I package up some of Jackson's art projects to send her, I am in awe that I am the one who gets to see ALL of his art projects - every single scribble, paint stroke and hand print. He is the greatest gift.</div>
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I'm going to be really really honest (because I don't write enough so I don't know if I'll get the chance to write again), this is HARD. Having 2 this close in age is pushing us to every single limit we have in this family. I continue to not be the mom I hoped I would be. I keep trying, I keep growing, and I keep loving. I adore my family, I really do. If you are still around, reading, I want to say thank you. This blog is so outdated...but for good reasons! I started out writing because I needed to put all my unused "mothering" energy towards something. Now all that energy and ten times more is being expended in just one hour of my long days! There is no energy left over for writing unfortunately. There will be again someday, I just know it. Until then, I will check in when I can. I have so appreciated your support and love throughout these past 4 years since I started this blog. Thank you!</div>
<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-25273047740881984402013-06-30T16:08:00.001-07:002013-06-30T16:08:27.738-07:00AfterAs another June passes, my heart becomes lighter. Every June, usually sometime mid-month, the power of the month hits me. It was June 10 that I got the positive pregnancy test that would forever change my view on hope and miracles...and grief. <br />
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Two weeks later, on June 24, our social worker called us and left me a message saying, "I have a situation I'd like to talk with you both about." I also had a message on that same day from the nurse telling me my HCG number (after it had not doubled the 2 tests before) and saying, "These are great numbers. Congratulations!" I was at a meeting for work and my boss (and now very close friend) and I drove back from the meeting as I tried to make sense of all of this. I was so sure I would lose at least one of these babies, probably both. So, I did what any expectant mom would do...I set up a nursery and I hoped and I prayed and I did something I had become very very practiced at doing: I waited...<br />
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You know the rest of the story. It wasn't an easy couple of months...the hardest of my life actually. I was perpetually sick with anxiety and worry. I had migraines daily. I should probably have been blissfully happy in my first trimester, preparing for my first baby to come home...but mostly I was just terrified. Terrified to lose them.<br />
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Three years later and I'm still terrified to lose them. I am up nights worried about them. If they are coughing, I get sick to my stomach and can never go to sleep until I know they are peacefully asleep and well. I can't watch movies or shows where people's children are in danger. I don't go to parks, play dates or outings and chat with the other moms. I stay with my kids, stand behind them as they climb, watch them as they play and do anything and everything I can to make sure they stay safe. My babies.<br />
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Jackson is sitting next to me as I write. He pointed to the picture above and said, "That's my mommy!" Wow - I was writing on this same blog 3 years ago, but the story was very different. I dreamed of a moment like that. He also looked over at me 5 minutes ago and said, "Mommy?" and I said, "yes?" and he said, "I love you" and then kissed my arm. I am now the mom of this sweet, beautiful, kind, incredibly charming and funny almost-three-year-old who is not afraid to show his love and affection. He is almost potty trained and ready to go to preschool in September. When I take him places, he now lets me out of sight and loves to play with other kids. When I watch him from afar, I see his body posture and he looks just like a little man. He loves to annoy the crap out of his sister (and all of us) just to see the reaction. He also adores tractors and trucks, especially garbage trucks. One of his favorite activities now is art, mostly paint. He has a creative streak that astonishes me. I get to be his mom. <br />
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If that wasn't enough...I am the mom of a tenacious, hard-headed, passionate, determined and insanely intelligent 2 year old baby girl who reminds me so much of myself in some ways that it is actually creepy. She is not quite potty trained, but trying hard. She talks like a 16 year old, I swear. She picks up on concepts and words after hearing them once. She loves her mommy and still has to be attached to me wherever we go. Nursing is still her favorite activity. She is the most active little girl I have seen in a long time, and bounces, runs, or jumps everywhere she goes...which results in lots of bumps and bruises. She has many ideas about what clothes she should wear, what cup she wants to use and how she wants to do just about everything. I can only hope that in my frustration and impatience, I don't squelch her beautiful self-concept or her desire to speak her mind, no matter the consequence. <br />
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I will be honest. The days are long, and I am not the mom I always dreamed I would be. But they ARE the children I always dreamed they would be. They are more. They are everything. Three years seems like such a short period of time - but it is literally a lifetime. There will always be "before June 2010" and "after" in my world. I love the "after." <br />
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-59401591864709900012013-05-09T15:15:00.000-07:002013-05-09T15:15:28.133-07:00Livin' The Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wow, it has been SO long since I have gotten on here to write. My life is full. Very very full. It is full of things I once dreamed of, like visiting preschools (Jax will be 3 in August!), going to play dates, scheduling doctor's appointments, talking to other mommies and researching about discipline and potty training, figuring out how to get my kids to eat healthy food...you know, the usual. There are so many decisions to be made when you have children, so many things to consider. Am I yelling too much? Will he be ok with that teacher or this one? How many days should he be in preschool? Should we go to that play date, I don't know if we should because that one boy is a monster to them and it drives me crazy?! Should I buy organic strawberries or can I go non-organic this one time because they are on sale for $.99 a quart? Are they ready to potty train or will it be a disaster? Can we handle a trip back to visit family or will it be a double disaster? When should I finally wean Addy? Can I handle the tantrums? Am I doing enough crafts with them? Are we always too busy and am I making my kids suffer because of it? Phew! I could do this for paragraphs and paragraphs, but you get the idea. So when I sit down to write, my head is swarmed and I just give up!<br />
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Let me just tell you that I have two beautiful, perfect, healthy children and for that I am so grateful. My days feel exhausting and draining, but in the end, I am beyond blessed. Jackson is joyful, energetic and pretty laid back. He is also very sensitive and while he doesn't get his feelings hurt often, when he does, it is epic and breaks my heart. I see my nurturing spirit in him now. When Addy gets really upset, he tries desperately to calm her either by reminding her of the rule she got in trouble for or trying to give her a big hug. My heart just soars seeing his kindness - I know that must mean that, in the midst of me struggling through parenthood, I am doing some things right. Poor Jax has had strep this week, and seeing his sad cry is just too much! I also finally made his "My Story" Shutterfly photo book and could not be happier to finally have the basics of his adoption story written down and documented for him to read over and over again. I've been creating that book in my head for almost 3 years! Jackson got to see T (his birth mom) in January and it was a beautiful time for all of us. I keep in touch with her and we are building a unique and incredible relationship. She told me recently that she and A made Jackson for me, Jason and Addy. She also told me that she does not regret her decision to place him with us even one little bit. I can't explain to you, unless you are an adoptive parent, what that means to me. I dreamed of hearing my child's birth parents say that to me when I was waiting to be a mommy. And our time has come! Every time I look at Jackson, I can't get over how beautifully and perfectly we all came together. He is our sunshine and our family could never be complete without him in it. Our story was clearly written long before we knew it. There is no other way to explain how right it all feels. <br />
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Addison is my little mini-me. This girl is smart as a whip, a quick-thinker, determined to get her way no matter what, bossy, and rule-oriented. She remembers a rule after the first time I tell her (and by "remember," I mean she can recite it, not necessarily always follow it:)). She tells me "No hit Jackson, hitting is naaaaughty!" Or she will tell me, "Don't go in the street, stay on sidewalk where mommy and daddy can see you." She just recites rules out of the blue! Recently she has been "yelling" at her dollies and does the "uh uh" (in a very mommy-is-mad tone just like mine lol). Then she says, "Don't do that, that is naaaughty, you go to ty-oup (time out)!" She was kicking me the other day while I tried to change her diaper and I finally swatted her on her diaper-padded butt (yes, I know, not the right thing to do but I get desperate sometimes) and told her "You don't kick mommy!" She came right back at me, "Uh-uh, Mommy! You don't hit me! That is not ok!" Oh goodness, this girl is something else. I tried not to, but I had to laugh. To be fair, she was right. They teach me so much every single day.<br />
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Together, these two are insanely cute. They now have conversations and play together (often ending in tears, I might add). The other night Jackson said to Addison, "Addison, stop bugging me!" and Addison said back, "I didn't mean to bug you!" I cracked up. They fight a lot too. We are in the isn't-it-fun-to-hit-just-for-the-sake-of-hitting phase. Not fun. One or the other is often screaming after being hit or pinched by the other. Deep breaths, we will prevail! They also show a great amount of affection and love to each other, as you can see from the top picture. Those are the moments that get me through the day. Addy loves to kiss Jackson goodnight before bed and then she often greets him in the morning with a big, happy "Good morning, Jackson!!" I love it!<br />
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Overall, life is busy but good. I am learning a lot about letting go - of lists, of expectations, of rules, of my plans in general. Each day, I have to re-learn this. It's hard to have your life completely consumed by two little beings. They are adorable, cute, wonderful, smart, funny miracles. But they are EXHAUSTING. And I am not a selfish person, but sometimes they do take too much from me, and that is my fault for not setting boundaries for myself. So I am working on balance. Between my kids, my job and my volunteer Board work, I need "me time" too. I haven't figured out how to get it, but I am working on it. So that is a very short update on how we are - living the dream over here:)!<br />
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<br /><br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-60118839038917229282013-03-14T21:37:00.002-07:002013-03-14T21:37:57.276-07:00I Did It, Mommy!I had the most amazing experience at the park this week with my baby girl. I just had to share. The story begins with a tunnel at the park that slopes upward. Addy has always wanted to climb up this tunnel but has never been able to do so. She tried this time too. She kept sliding back down just short of the top. She would pout and then tell me "I can't do it. It's too hard!" I told her, "Keep trying, baby, I think you can do it!" I struggled with what to tell her - I wanted to encourage her, to show her I believed in her...but I also didn't want to tell her she could do something that she wasn't ready for. I wanted it to be ok for her if she couldn't make it to the top this time. I told her that she would be able to someday, when she was bigger. But she kept going back. She would pull herself up with her arms, dig her feet in, and huff and puff....<br />
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I stood there at the bottom of the tunnel, just cheering her on, telling her she could do it and to keep trying. And then....SHE DID IT!!!<br />
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She looked down at me and said " I did it Mommy!!" Of course you did, baby girl! You worked so hard! I knew you could do it! I could have cried with joy for her. I felt silly. I mean...really, she just climbed a tube. She struggled to do it a second time, over and over and over again. She kept going back and kept falling down. She was SO frustrated. She told me again she couldn't do it and it was too hard. But this time I KNEW she could. So I told her so. She must have tried more than a dozen times before she got back up there. And when she did, she said, "I did it, Mommy! I told you!" I assume this is because I tell her all the time after she gets frustrated and tries again, " I told you that you could do it." It was hilarious to hear her repeat my words. </div>
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Watching this sweet girl of mine go back to that sloped tunnel repeatedly, even after falling down over and over again, made me so proud. My heart literally swelled. She gets frustrated easily (like her mom) but she will NEVER give up until she gets what she wants (like her mom). To see my own traits reflected in her was indescribable. I do so many things wrong, I mess up every hour of every day with my two kids. But I didn't mess THIS up. She kept trying, and she got to the top! And she knew her mom was there to cheer her on, to empathize with her frustration and sadness, to hug her when she slid down and felt like giving up, and to celebrate with her when she finally made it. She will always know that, no matter what. There is nothing this girl can't do. Nothing. </div>
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Addy got to slide down that tube, her pay off for all her hard work....</div>
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As she gets older, the slopes will be steeper, the falls more painful, and the accomplishments more grand. I want to remember our teamwork on this particular task. We will need the same simple ingredients each time. Her tenacity, and my belief that she can do ANYthing she puts her mind to. I hope as the obstacles get more complicated, I don't get lost in the chaos. I will always have these pictures and this story to remind me of what she needs from me. I can't wait to see what this life holds for her - for both of my babies. What an honor it is to stand beside the tunnel and to cheer on this precious little life. So many have stood beside me and encouraged me to be the best I can be....and now I get to pass that on. This is one of the best gifts motherhood has given me so far and I could not be more grateful.</div>
<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-13539845320018567772013-03-04T20:24:00.002-08:002013-03-04T20:24:28.878-08:00Addy's 2 Year Photo Shoot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
These pictures turned out amazingly well (and these are less than half of them!). I am so blessed.</div>
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-51997240298200202272013-02-27T20:45:00.000-08:002013-02-27T20:45:04.531-08:00My Baby Girl is TWO!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yes, it is true. I no longer have babies, just toddlers...very independent, very outspoken, VERY adorable toddlers! On February 15, Addison turned two and I would be lying if I told you I didn't shed a tear or two. You all know why, no need to go on and on about it. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Striking a pose...but refusing to smile:).</td></tr>
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After finding this adorable dress on clearance last November, I decided to do a polka dot party. Simple and cute. While all my polka dot party decorations were not perfectly coordinated, I'd say it all turned out just fine. Big parties are still not my thing....but I do it every time!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The polka dot girls on the day of her party.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No post would be complete without this sweet face. Can you believe how big he looks here?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Make a wish, sweet girl!</td></tr>
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<br />Addison has become such a smart, engaging and funny little girl. She was incredibly serious as a newborn, it took her 3 months to really smile much at all (as opposed to Jackson who was literally laughing at 1 month old!). I have become so reminiscent since her birthday. It's like we made it through an obstacle course - 2 infants non stop for 2 years. I look back and have balanced feelings - aching to hold them in my arms as newborns again and relief that I don't have newborns again! Here we are...at another obstacle course. Parenting two toddlers is challenging all of my confidence and beliefs that I am a good parent. I've got a lot of work to do. That is for another post. Addison now goes to sleep so well, and sleeps through the night no matter what. She even has a terrible cough right now and has coughing fits...but when I go in there, she's half asleep and I have to wake her up to give her medicine and she just lays back down sleepily and goes back to sleep. LOVE her! She eats so well now too. She's still a little picky (won't touch any veggies lol) but I never worry that she isn't getting enough to eat. Her favorite by far is mac n cheese ("ma chee cheese"). Addison talks like she is 16, I swear. She sometimes has 5 and 6 work sentences! Last night she told me, "Mommy go nuh-night in the rocking chair." This was after she said, "Aww, mommy tired?" and rubbed my cheek. Seriously, people, it doesn't get any better than empathy from your two-year-old. Addison has a mind of her own and is most often heard saying "My do it!" She has also learned the art of negotiation. When it is time to eat or to do something, she will say "play couple minutes, mommy." When I am nursing her at night (yes we still do that, for better or for worse!), and I ask her if she's ready to go to bed, she will say "Soon nuh-night" or "Nurse one minute." Addison engages in pretend play quite regularly. She feeds babies and animals (and talks to them), cooks food, talks on the phone, etc. When I ask her how much I love her, she says, "so, so, so much" or "All the way to the moon and back." Yep, she's right. I am just amazed by her daily. Seriously amazed. Blown away really. I can't believe she is MINE! I can't believe either of them are. So, on to the next phase - raising two two-year-olds without losing your mind! Happy Birthday to my sweet baby girl. My love for you is unending. There are no words to even describe the depth of my feeling for you.<br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No party is complete without a family picture that inevitably is missing one of the kids looking at the camera!</td></tr>
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-83179776312192705072013-02-07T20:32:00.001-08:002013-02-07T21:09:41.064-08:00The VisitSo many people have asked how the visit with Jackson's birthmom, T, went. It has become a pretty normal part of our lives, these relationships, so I forget that other people find it all very fascinating. The visit went, in a word, beautifully. Jackson took to T immediately after not seeing her for a year. T clearly was working hard to contain her emotions, and I so wish she didn't feel the need to do so in our presence. I hope we can build our relationship to a point where we have complete openness and honestly. Like all relationships, ours is a work in progress.<br />
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Jackson enjoyed showing T all around the aquarium and mall....and then feeding her french fries at lunch. It could be in my head, but he seemed to grasp how special she was. He kissed her on the cheek and "hammed it up" for her. She pointed out different characteristics of his that she loved...and how he had her skin and her eyes. Yes, he sure does. I wish I could post pictures here - I have the most amazing photos of them (and all of us) together. But I have not gained her permission, and I'd like to keep my blog as my own place for now (and not share it with Jackson's birth family...yet). <br />
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My friend today asked me how I felt about it all...she seemed to not know how she felt about it when I showed her the pictures. While I see the pictures and my heart just swells with love, others see them and seem conflicted. It's like they are holding back...not sure if they are supposed to love the image of my son kissing T's face. I try to model pure love and acceptance, but there must be something in this society that says a photo of a little boy sitting in between his mom and birthmom carries some...what? Sadness? Pain? Competition? Jealousy? I'm not sure. Because none of that is true for us. <br />
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I suppose I have grown into this place, if I am being honest. I shared with my friend that the visits in the first few months of Jackson's life were harder. Our relationship was not yet fully established...I loved him with everything I had, but I didn't yet have the feedback from him that he knew I was his mom, his forever mom. Infants don't always give that right away. And he had been in her womb longer than he'd been with me. I was a shaky mom, unsure of who I was in this role. So, yes, seeing their bond and hearing others call her Jackson's mom unveiled my vulnerabilities. But this time, it was different. Jackson and I have been through so much - the fussy infant stage in which I walked and rocked him for countless hours, and my voice was often all he wanted, the new toddler stage in which he looked to me before he made any move to make sure he was safe and cried whenever I had to leave him, and the two-year-old stage in which we butt heads daily and still snuggle each night before bed, reliving our days together in words and stories and grand gestures (from him usually:)). Our relationship is solid. Jackson having another mom does not take away from my role as his mom, it only adds to his sense of being loved and cherished. And it is his reality, pure and simple. If I denied it, did not allow him to see her, did not talk about her or talk about his 10 months in her womb....well, his reality would still be the same. I would just create conflict, fear and uncertainty in his little heart. No thank you. She is his birth mom, I am his adoptive mom. Our roles in his life differ, but both roles are crucial in forming the man he will someday become.<br />
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So, there you have it, that is how things went on our beautiful visit with T! And she loved her necklace:). Jackson's birthdad, A, has still not re-initiated contact. He tells his parents (who tell us) that he's just not ready yet. That's ok. We'll be here when he is. Thanks for your questions and interest....your thoughts and wonderings help me to organize mine:).Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-92087260932905777262013-01-29T14:32:00.000-08:002013-01-29T14:32:01.916-08:00A GiftWe were never able to give Jackson's birth mom a gift after she placed him with us. Her circumstances made that impossible. So when we FINALLY got to see her this past weekend under different circumstances, I was so excited to bring something tangible to give her. But what do you give the person who birthed your son (her son) and then placed him in your arms? I mean, there really is no gift that says what needs to be said. I have recently acquired the rights to the digital photos that she had taken in the hospital of her and a very sweet newborn Jackson, so I wanted to do something with those photos. Nothing seemed right. Photo gifts consist of mugs, mouse pads, blankets, etc lol! Nothing quite fit. Shutterly did have a necklace, but it was $50 and that is above our financial threshold for gifts right now if you know what I mean! So, I searched. And I found this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn88GQUA06K4x_-0TOITz1HXCIywtYlP2UBNo3_99tupinxGnV22Y8-Y4UeGtXcv4_Uc1_sWvk_6wIJLVDlYU9RFp7TTWlK8JOqXEi9TiWSpt3fwGpH1TUIWqWzN92h8OBcav0AiGmnBo/s1600/pendant.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn88GQUA06K4x_-0TOITz1HXCIywtYlP2UBNo3_99tupinxGnV22Y8-Y4UeGtXcv4_Uc1_sWvk_6wIJLVDlYU9RFp7TTWlK8JOqXEi9TiWSpt3fwGpH1TUIWqWzN92h8OBcav0AiGmnBo/s400/pendant.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was beautiful, affordable, creative and...well, perfect. It was small: she could wear it, display it, or tuck it away for the days she may need reminding of how much she is loved. When I ordered it, I told the artist who created it what I needed it for, and that I did not have a lot of time (it was a last minute visit that just worked out). She was so sweet and understanding and she made sure I had the gift in time - including adding priority shipping at no extra cost to me. It was a wonderful experience, buying this special gift from her. So, if you are looking for a very touching and special gift on a tight budget, I would HIGHLY suggest this etsy seller! Her website is: www.frillychili.etsy.com. She makes so many cool things other than this as well! Happy shopping:)!Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-49986593451609719102013-01-03T20:23:00.000-08:002013-01-03T20:23:01.601-08:00The Memories Come Flooding BackI have been having some irregular bleeding for the last two months (shocker, I know, coming from someone who went through years of infertility), so my OB/Gyn sent me for an ultrasound. She sent me to the same place that confirmed my first miscarriage, back in 2008. I have walked by that office in the past couple of years going to another office a few times, and each time my stomach flipped. So I knew I would have a reaction, I just wasn't sure what to expect.
The circumstances were so similar - fill my bladder so that it feels like it will burst any second, do a trans-abdominal and then a trans-vaginal ultrasound. I was lying there on the table while I heard the "click clicking" of the ultrasound machine and felt the familiar pressure on my belly, and the tears started coming. Luckily the ultrasound tech was very professional, kept his eyes on the screen, and didn't pay attention to me. How could I have explained those tears to him? There was something about lying on that table, seeing the screen and hearing the clicking, feeling the probe, smelling the office, etc that brought me back to not just that fateful day in April of 2008, but to all of the terrifying ultrasounds I endured in those years before Jackson entered my world and lit it up with joy. I kept taking deep breaths, talking to myself in my head, reminding myself that my two sweet babies were waiting for me back home....but the pain just swept over me. The grief, loss, and trauma of those miscarriages has, for the most part, faded into the background of my life. While none of it could ever be forgotten, I can go most days without thinking deeply about it all. Every day, when I see the faces of my children, I think about what we endured for them, and I celebrate. But that's usually as far as it goes. I don't usually cry, I don't feel the need to dwell on the past, and I choose to relish in my blessings. But, today, lying on that table, it was as if I was right back in the middle of those "dark days." Every emotion I was experiencing made no sense - it was almost like I couldn't even believe my two children were back at home taking their naps. No amount of self-talk was adding any logic to this wholly visceral experience for me. It was quite astounding, to tell you the truth. The pain of the past seemed to just overwhelm me.
I suppose that the timing has something to do with it, as we just passed the holidays. Every Christmas, I think about (and we often mention it at least once in our home) our Christmas-that-was-not-to-be. In 2009, I found out that our second baby had passed just 6 days before Christmas. And 4 days before Christmas, I underwent surgery to remove her from my body. So, every Christmas, that pain is just slightly closer to the surface for me. Again, I don't dwell, and I mostly use it to remember her, remember where we came from, and remember to enjoy every second of where we are. But it is there, as well it should be. Those babies were MY babies. They deserve to be remembered as such.
Everything I experienced is textbook for a trauma-related reaction. Those of us who have suffered through infertility and/or loss KNOW that it is a traumatic experience, or series of experiences. Today was just a reminder. And the memories came flooding back. I'm glad they did, though. I need to remember where I have been, to truly appreciate where I am. And where I am is completely and totally my dream come true.
Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-80508998550325624012012-12-23T07:45:00.000-08:002012-12-23T07:45:33.837-08:00From Our Family to Yours<div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"><img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8Aatm7li2cs2MK&eid=118"><img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/8Aatm7li2cs_/8Aatm7li2cs_cW/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1356277107000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></a></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"><span>Be Merry Prints Christmas Card</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>Create from the Heart: photo Christmas cards from <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards" style="color: #6666cc;">Shutterfly</a> .</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>View the entire <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">collection</a> of cards.</span></div></div></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"></div></div>Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-62733737688476663882012-12-16T20:39:00.002-08:002012-12-16T20:39:56.028-08:00Hmmm...I so wish I could go back and re-write my last post, after all that has happened since writing it. Thank you all for such kind comments, for being the support I needed. I always appreciate your thoughts. Wow, I actually have no words to describe the depth of my emotion around the recent school shooting. I know everyone is talking about it, and I couldn't say anything new even if I wanted to. <br />
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It's not that what I wrote is not true...it's just that it isn't the whole truth. It was just a snippet, a window into how I was feeling in that moment. If you looked into another window, you'd see that I have cried so many tears as I rocked my children before bed the last couple of nights. My love for them is so intense, so deep, that just thinking about sending them off to school and never seeing them again brought me to my breaking point. I have no connection to those families, and yet my chest aches, my stomach churns, for their grief. <br />
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Yes, I do get overwhelmed. Every parent does. Those parents did. What I keep learning is that I can focus on the hard, the being overwhelmed, the "dark" moments of parenting...or I can choose to put my energy into the good moments. It's the same with the grief I am feeling - I can feel myself going over the edge in some ways. If I spend too much time, too much precious energy, thinking of the "what ifs," I am brought to me knees with anxiety and fear. Losing my children is something that I literally cannot imagine, for if I do, I will not be able to move forward in my life. The vulnerability in that thought is intolerable. So, I allow the thoughts to float through my consciousness, then I make a very conscious choice to re-direct my focus to the blessings I have, and they are many. It's all I know how to do.<br />
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I am curious - how are you balancing your grief, fear and anxiety after such a tragedy? Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-22556752868470059152012-12-10T20:51:00.001-08:002012-12-10T20:51:31.089-08:00Under WaterI had a dream the other night that I just knew I had to share with you all. I know some of you will be able to relate. It started out as a normal day. Jason and I decided to take the kids to see a family member in Benson. Benson is about 45 minutes away from us, a straight shot up a rural highway. In reality, we do not have family who lives that close, so I should have known it was a dream then! Down where we live, near the Mexico/America border, there are checkpoints on roads leading away from the border. <br />
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In my dream, we reached the check point (or what I think must have been what my mind associated with the check point) and it had turned into a "fun" obstacle course to get through on our way to Benson. Apparently it was a fun attraction for most, something to look forward to on their way to Benson. We entered the first "obstacle" which included taking our children through some water maize. We both had to be there, there was no way we could make the trip if not. Each of us had to take a baby. I had so much trouble keeping Jackson's head above water. He kept dipping under and I kept panicking. We were swimming through this obstacle and I was terrified I would lose Jackson or not be able to keep him above the water. Then we got to the second obstacle. This one was like a ride where you sit in cars with lap belts (like on roller coasters) and they sprayed tons of water at you. I remember frantically dipping my body below the head of the "car" we were in and shielding a baby (not sure which one I had) with my body from the water. It was awful. I kept thinking, "This isn't fun at all!" What started out as a "simple" road trip that so many other people were taking easily became something straight out of my nightmares. We decided after that obstacle that it would take us way too long to get to our family in Benson. If just two obstacles were that difficult with two babies, there was no way we would get through the rest in a reasonable amount of time. We decided to turn around and go home.<br />
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That's all I remember. I woke up feeling defeated. And then I immediately associated that defeated feeling with how I feel at least once each and every day - when I try to go to the store, throw in a load of laundry, go to a thirty one party with kids in tow, cook a meal, go to the zoo, do an activity, make a phone call... Having two toddlers (or babies) is H-A-R-D! Normal every day events that other people take for granted seems like an obstacle course under water for our family. I read blogs and updates from people with one child and get pangs of jealousy - not that having even one baby is easy! But there is a simplicity there, going to the grocery store does not feel like a military operation for those families! To be sure, my jealousy is quickly replaced by reminders of how blessed I am - two beautiful faces I get to kiss all day long, two giggling toddlers that fill my life with joy. The overwhelmed feeling passes, for the moment. <br />
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This is not how I imagined having children would be. I had it all planned out. I would have one baby, enjoy every second for 2-3 years, then have another and do it all over again, enjoying every moment again, lol! I still fantasize about having one baby at a time, all the things I could do. But I don't have one baby. I have two. They are hard. Going anywhere is hard. Doing anything is hard. It really, really is. And that's ok. It's ok to feel overwhelmed...to feel "under water." That is motherhood. It may not be the motherhood I fantasized about, but it is the motherhood that is real, the motherhood I fought so hard for. And my children are amazing. They are healthy, feisty and perfect. I realize how blessed I am that they ARE so energetic and difficult at times - they are healthy and full of life and that is beautiful. So I allow myself the feelings of anxiety, pressure and frustration, because they are real. There is no point to fighting them. Then when I notice I am feeling under water, I step back and make a point to change my energy. I can make a choice to be caught up in being overwhelmed, or I can make a choice to re-arrange things, slow down, and make the pace of my life match my reality. I have two toddlers. I won't get to do as much as other parents...for now. And that's ok. There are worth it all.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Here is an example - we decided to try and let them eat at the table instead of with their trays like they normally do. Epic fail. They messed with each other, got food on their laps, smeared food on the table, started hitting each other with the forks, trading food, etc...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But look how full our laps become when we pull out a book:).</td></tr>
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-41000787480118057232012-12-02T19:52:00.002-08:002012-12-02T19:52:32.390-08:00Mommy Guilt ExploredI read this excerpt from the book, "The Mother's Guide to the Meaning of Life: What Being a Mom has Taught Me about Resilience, Guilt, Acceptance, and Love" by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and just knew I had to write about it: <br />
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<i>I don't know what I'm doing half the time. Don't know if all my decisions and efforts and love will tally up in a way that means my children will walk away from the carnival with the jumbo stuffed animal. I do what I can, what is in my power, but there are just so many other factors at work: things that are predetermined at birth; things that happen at school; things that happen in the in-between spaces; things I can't even fathom yet; things I'm unintentionally doing all wrong. That which is beyond my control, beyond my understanding, beyond the horizon, shrivels me. (pages 121-122)</i><br />
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I read this in the midst of a very, very tough week. I have been sick. The kids have been sick. And it just kept getting worse. I had my in-laws in town and had all these fun plans, productive plans, things I would get done now that I FINALLY had help. None of it got done of course and I barely enjoyed some of the outings we had with them and the kids because I was so damn sick. I was in such a foul mood, my patience was shot...and they saw me that way with my kids!<br />
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Here's the thing: I know every single mom has lost it with their kid(s). It is just inevitable I think. However, most moms are smart enough to not do that in front of others! But that was how sick, tired and overwhelmed with never-ending lists I was. I could not contain my frustration. I was an impatient, nagging, yelling mom to my two toddlers who were also feeling sick (which of course makes it even worse). <br />
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I am pretty sure every mom works hard to achieve the "good mom" title. It can come from anywhere, and I'll take it...the man at the grocery store who tells me I have the patience of a saint (if only!), my mom who reassures me that I am a good mom, my husband...and we all know if our kids tell us we are a good mom, we've hit the jackpot! But...like any annoying therapist would do (believe it or not, that's what I do for a living!), when it's dark and I am wallowing in mommy guilt, I ask myself, "What do I mean by "good mom?" What does it take to earn that title? Does it look the same to everyone? Is it a handful of moments strung together, like the last week of monster mommy in my house? Or, perhaps, is it millions of small and uneventful interactions that, over time, make up the relationships I have with my children? I'd like to think it's the latter. I can choose to look at the past week and beat myself up (because I was a meanie!) and remember only the bad moments. There were good ones too - times I was told "mommy, sit!" and sat and gave my undivided attention, times I rocked them and snuggled them before bed, times I laughed when they were being silly, times I took interest in their art projects, times I kissed boos boos, fed them meals, changed their diapers...you get the idea. I didn't put weight on THOSE times...but why? I have to make a different choice. I have to choose to focus on the beauty in our relationships, the things I do well, the joyous moments - of which there are many. I am a strong believer in: you get more of what you pay attention to. I just suck at living it. So I'm going to keep trying to be better, to do better, and to notice when I do. <br />
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The end of the excerpt above is both freeing and terrifying. I do not make up my children's entire lives - so much of who they are, who they will become, has to do with so many other things that I have absolutely no control over. So, first of all, get over myself. Second of all, lock them up! Seriously, though, why do moms shoulder all the weight of how their children turn out? I know...I mean, I really know, because I do this for a living...how important mothers are for their children's success and health. I really do. We are powerful. But we aren't ALL powerful. I have conflicting feelings about that. In some ways, I'd love to be the only factor in my kids' lives - because no one loves them more than I do and I know I would always keep their best interests at heart. On the other hand, they have so many rich and beautiful relationships and experiences outside of me. And, yes, they will have negative relationships and experiences...but maybe, just maybe, that's what our safe, normal, every day negative interactions are preparing them for? I 'd like to think so. So I will.<br />
<i><br /></i>Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-54743037724154852282012-11-21T20:40:00.002-08:002012-11-21T20:40:52.457-08:00Visiting PreschoolsI hope to put Jackson into preschool next fall for a couple of mornings a week (and Addison the year after). So, I decided it was time to visit the few preschools I am considering to get an idea of where I want him to be. I am a planner of course:). I visited the one at the top of my list first this week. I was told that the preschool rented space from St. Andrews church, so I put it into my GPS and we headed over there. Then I pulled up...and realized that St. Andrews church is where we had our adoption classes almost three years ago. <br />
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It's hard to describe how different my life is now. I almost couldn't even remember what I felt like sitting in those classes. That intense level of anxiety and sadness is now foreign to me. I am a completely different person. I pulled up, hauling two toddlers, in jeans, messy hair, and two strollers in the back of my SUV. Yep, that's me now! I could not be happier.<br />
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I can't believe that I didn't know Jackson as I sat in those classes. I knew implicitly that those classes were my path to motherhood. I just knew it. I had more hope sitting in those classes than I had had in years. But I didn't know my baby boy! How is that possible? I can't imagine a life without him in it...what was my heart doing before Jackson and Addison took it over? I really don't know. Like I said, I'm a different person now. <br />
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I could not have imagined a more perfect little boy. I tried to imagine, sitting in those folding chairs, listening to the social worker talk and shivering because the room was freezing, what our story would look like. I imagined so many scenarios, different kinds of birth parents at different stages of their pregnancies, frantic calls to the hospital, building a connection with a birth mom over months, etc. I even imagined that I would surprisingly get pregnant and maybe leave the adoption process. I was just hoping for a baby. I never considered the story that came to be - two babies in six months. Two perfect, healthy babies. My babies. <br />
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I love when life throws things into the mix to cue your memory, to remind you of where you came from. I have learned so much, and I know I am a better person because I walked the path I did. I have to share with you the joy and wonder that Jackson brings to my life, in picture form:<br />
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<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6176819118574225816.post-44033611171364461732012-11-05T19:30:00.003-08:002012-11-05T19:30:42.822-08:00Halloween...and more...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We had a wonderful Halloween. The holidays are becoming so joyful with these two precious beings around. It is incredible to experience all of these special occasions through their eyes. I know it is cliche to say, but what an honor it is to be a parent. I get to watch these little miracles grow into full grown people! I have to be honest, I sometimes worry about the coming years - I can't imagine enjoying them any more than I do now. To be honest, most school age kids kind of annoy me, lol! I assume mine won't be as annoying...but will it be as fun? I don't know, they are just so amazing right now! </div>
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At the pumpkin patch, refusing to pose as usual:).</div>
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This one is always up for a "cheese!" moment:).</div>
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Her skull skirt - she wore it last year for Halloween and it still fits this year!</div>
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My little monster.</div>
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Handsome Diego (try to ignore the Halloween explosion that is my living room in this picture:)).</div>
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Yup, even mommy dressed up. Sadly, this is as close as we could get to a posed picture of the three of us. *sigh*</div>
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Seriously, how cute is he?</div>
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She is soooo serious!</div>
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Love the light in this one...</div>
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And this one.</div>
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Rory got in on the fun. Addy is in the background whining - a common occurrence these days.</div>
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I should end this by saying it is NOT always easy and beautiful and lovey-dovey in my house, lol! I always struggle with people who only write about how wonderful life is as a mom...because I don't know if that's real. The days are HARD with these two. I have found myself doing things I said I'd never do (you might notice Jackson was a TV character for Halloween and I always swore my kids would not watch TV until age 3...but then he turned two and he loved it so....). I am working hard to take deep breaths and when I get overwhelmed, to slow down and soak them in. I even left work a couple of hours early today, just because I could and because I am sick of working so much and being away from them more than I want to be. I have been overtaken lately with anticipatory grief. Pretty soon, they won't be toddlers anymore. My chest aches and my eyes well with tears just thinking about it. I'm not going to waste away these hours, days and weeks being sad that they are flying by. Instead, I am being very deliberate about spending time enjoying Jax and Addy. When Jackson says, "mommy, sit!" and pats the couch next to him, you better believe I sit. When Addy hands me a book and says "read," I read to her. I rock longer before bed with each of them, I sit and play on the floor with them, I do art projects with them and I let them help me clean the windows. I don't want to waste one second. So...yes, it is hard, some days are downright painful. I've decided that that's just motherhood. But, that said, I've also employed some strategies when I notice myself feeling over-the-edge anxious, and I do believe they are working - self care (I finally started my weekly yoga class again!), slowing down the pace of our days, and making the time to just BE with them have all helped. Any other mommy tricks out there?</div>
<br />Faithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03064955747540959696noreply@blogger.com6