Happy 4th birthday, my Pumpkin Boy

 To my precious Pumpkin Boy, born Halloween, 2008:

1. I love you more than I could ever possibly say.  Four years ago, you made me a Mommy, and I have never been the same since.

2. You have one of the best personalities I have ever met, in any human.  You make me laugh, without fail, every single day.

3. You love chocolate.  In every form -- liquid, solid, and probably even gaseous.

4.  You are smart, quick-witted, energetic, infectious, and absolutely loveable.

5. You have one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen.  And you use it to tackle your sister every morning.  

5. You are a ball of energy.  I could chase you around all day long.  And, I do.

6. You love life.  You are curious about it and all the people in it.  I know this, because you ask "why?" after every little thing I say.  

7. I can't write much more because the tears are already starting to well up in my eyes when I think about how much I love you.  The sheer idea of you not being in my life physically sickens me.  You are a complete miracle, ordained to be ours from the beginning of time.  Yet, I recognize that I don't own you.  You aren't mine to belong to.  You are your own, unique, amazing person. You are a gift to us.  Simply on loan, for a short time.

May you come to know, love, and trust the God who made you, who loves you, and who has spectacular things in store for you.  

I love you, son.  Happy birthday, baby boy.

Love, Mommy.

Brae-isms

1. Scene: an early Monday morning, in Mommy and Daddy's closet. 

Brae (to Daddy): "Daddy, I'm going to pick out a shirt for you to wear today at work."

Daddy: "Ok."

(Several minutes elapse.  Mommy at bathroom counter getting ready.  She doesn't see the following conversation, but just hears it).

Brae: "Ok! I've got a shirt for you, Daddy! Here."

Daddy: "No, Brae, I'm not wearing that shirt to work."

Brae, crying: "What? Why not, Daddy? I picked it out special just for you. I want you to wear it today.  You need to wear it today!"

Daddy: "No, pick out another shirt."

Brae: "No!" (full on crying now, temper-tantrum mode, on the floor, kicking and screaming).  "Wear this shirt! I picked it out just for you! Why won't you wear the shirt I picked out special for you? That hurts my feelings.  Wear this shirt, Daddy!"

Daddy, very calmly: "Brae, I'm not wearing Mommy's shirt to work.  Pick out another one."

***

2. Scene: a park, on a sunny Fall day.  Brae walks to the middle of the grass, pulls down his pants, and his underwear, and then bends down to touch his toes, bare bum high up in the air. 

Mommy, walking quickly over to him, trying to act calm: "Brae, what are you doing?"

Brae: "Mommy, my bum needs some sunshine." 

***

3.  Scene: Brae, at the coffee table, going through his preschool workbook.

Brae, talking to himself, pointing in the book: "Smallest, largest, ummm... mediust.  Biggest, littlest, mediust."

***

4. Brae is into storying.  This means that he does not want me to read him stories anymore; he wants me to make them up in my head and tell him a story.  And, in what ever story of what ever version of what ever I can possibly come up with in my head, Brae has to be a kung fu warrior. 

***

5. Scene: Brae, at his friend's birthday party.  His friend is also adopted. 

Mommy: "Brae, did you know your friend [Gabriel] is adopted, just like you? That makes you both so special."

Brae: "You mean Gabriel came out of [birthmom]'s tummy, too?

***

6.  Scene: In car, driving home.

Mommy: "Brae, your birthday is coming up.  Are you excited?"

Brae: "Yeah, but Mommy, I don't want to get pushed out of [birthmom]'s tummy ever again."

Mommy: "Okay, I think that can be arranged.  Can I ask why not?"

Brae (wide-eyed): "Because I didn't like it.  It was scary."

Mommy: "Well, maybe that's because you were born on Halloween."

How to Protect Your Child from a Predator

A few weeks ago, we took a class on children and sex abuse.  It's part of the class series we have to take to complete our application for adopting through the state.  It was definitely the hardest of the 8 classes we have to take. 

After listening (for 3 hours!) about the different types of sex abuse (thanks to the Internet, so many child victims don't even know they are being victimized), and about the different forms a predator can take (a grandmother!?), I was feeling pretty deflated.

How can we possibly protect our children from predators? 

Predators are a sneaky bunch.  They find their victims, "groom" them (gain their trust), "groom" the parents (gain our trust), and then the abuse starts slowly.

By far, most predators are people that the child, and the parents, know.  Which makes it all the more insidious.  And just plain scary. 

So, I couldn't leave the class without an answer.  I had to know: How can we possibly protect our children from predators?

Up went my hand.

And the answer they gave was, I found, very profound.

The best way to protect your child from a sex abuse predator is to encourage your child to develop his/her own gut instinct.  

Sounds simple, right?

Well, I speak for myself when I say that I have unknowingly discouraged my child's own gut instinct on several occasions.

I've done it nearly every holiday when I push encourage Brae to go give his second cousin, thrice removed,  a big ole' hug and kiss, even though he hasn't seen her since the last holiday.  And when he cowers behind my legs refusing to go over there, I tell him he's being impolite. 

Or, when I force encourage him, every Christmas, to go sit on the lap of some strange man with a long beard wearing a funny red suit, whisper in his ear what gifts he wants, and then smile for a camera. 

And what am I doing each time I do this? Well, according to the "experts," I am telling my son to not trust his own gut instinct.  I'm telling him to ignore that little voice in his head, or that pit in his stomach, or those goosebumps that  those warning signs are not to be trusted.

Ignore them.  Go ahead, take candy from a stranger. 

Go ahead, get into the back of some man's van because he tells you he has ice cream. 

Go ahead, get in someone's car because they tell you they are taking you to Mommy and Daddy.

Sure, maybe I'm going to a bit of an extreme, but I'd rather have the second cousin, thrice removed, feel slighted by a 3-year-old than to quash my son's own gut instinct. 

So, Mr. Santa, we will not be sitting on your lap this Christmas if my kids don't want to.  Thank you, very much.  And they will still get presents on Christmas morning.  If for no other reason than to teach them that there is no punishment for going with your gut. 

Five Things You May Not Have Known About My EA Journey

Five things you may not have known about my EA journey:

1) Sienna was one of 9 embryos frozen.  Six were adopted by another family.  None survived the thaw.  We adopted the remaining 3.  One didn't survive the thaw.  Two were transferred.  Only Sienna made it.  She's one of 9 genetic siblings to have survived the 10-year wait.

2) We almost chose anonymous adoption.  However, it was my husband's comment that because we already have a son who has an open adoption, it didn't seem right to not also have an open adoption with any other child brought into our home.

3) We almost didn't go through NEDC.  We actually simultaneously pursued 2 other agencies.  Living in Oregon, traveling to Tennessee (twice) seemed like a huge effort.  However, after talking to 2 friends who had done EA with NEDC, I was convinced NEDC was the place for us.

4) I am Sienna's biological mom.  Her genetic makeup is not my own (thank you, donors!), but it was my heart, my womb, my body that was her home and kept her growing for those 9-10 months.  And, I'm so grateful Sienna doesn't have my genetic makeup.  Because, then, she wouldn't be Sienna.

5) On the day we were to find out our beta number, I had written down a list of positive truths I wanted to read if the results were negative.  I still have that list.  Here is what some of it reads:

-- I did not fail.  This was not my fault.  

-- The road and wait to get to Brae was long and hard, but in the end, we received the best of what God had in store for us.  

-- My faith will get me through this.  God was not surprised by this.  He's sad because I'm sad, but He smiles at what lies ahead for me.  GOOD gifts. 

Our news.

A couple weeks ago, I mentioned that we would have some "news" to share.  And the time has come to share it.

It's no secret I want a bigger family.  From age 2-6, it was just me and my sister.  I was the oldest; she the youngest by 2 years.  After my parents divorced and each remarried, I had 3 new, older stepbrothers that I grew up with from age 8 until each brother left home.  I went from being the oldest to being a middle child.

I love being a part of a bigger family.  I love the chaos, the noise, the laughter, the tears, the joy, the sorrow, I love it all. 

However, our road to growing our family has not been easy.  It has been the most difficult trial of my life.  And, I've had quite a few trials.  This one takes the cake.

We adopted our son through private, domestic infant adoption. It was a phenomenal journey of faith.  And, if you've ever adopted, you know what a ride adoption can be. 

We adopted our daughter through private, embryo adoption.  Again, another phenomenal journey of faith, but of a different kind. 

We've done our fair share of fertility treatment, and to be honest, I'm open to doing it again.  I want to be pregnant, again.  Which, for those of you who walked that journey with me, it's astonishing for me to say that.  Pregnancy was an odd experience for me.  But, I'd love to do it again.  And, if I'm honest, I still pray for a spontaneous pregnancy miracle one day that results in a live birth. 

My husband, not so much.

He's content with two and has resisted every time, for the last year, that I have tried to broach the idea of more kids.  

Given our fertility struggles, I'm thankful to have a husband who has absolutely no desire for a genetic child, and also could not care less to see me pregnant again.  And yet, since Sienna was born, I've been pestering encouraging my husband to talk about growing our family. 

Eventually, he agreed to revisit the conversation over Labor Day weekend (fitting).  So, for months, I bit my tongue and waited for that weekend to come. 

It came.  We had the whole long weekend to ourselves, kids with my parents, and it was a perfect time to reconnect, and talk about more kids!

As the weekend drew to a close, the time had come to revisit that conversation that had been smoldering in my heart since Sienna's birth.  I had written a letter to my husband, which I read to him, and explained my desire for a third child, and how I'd love to experience pregnancy again.  I was open to doing embryo adoption again, or even more fertility treatment.  In my heart, I just believed (and still do) that either of those options would work for us. 

After I was done with my letter, my husband closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and paused.

And paused.

And paused.

I was certain he was going to say that he was content with two kids, end of conversation, and I needed to get on board.

But then, he spoke.  And the words that came out of his mouth were nothing short of completely remarkable to me. 

"So," he began, "I've been thinking and praying about this for months. No more fertility treatment.  No more shots, money, time, doctor's appointments, no more.  No more worrying about whether we're pregnant or whether the pregnancy is going to stick.  So, no more pregnancy.  And, I'm not a big fan of the infant stage."

My heart sank.  I felt the tears coming.

"But," he started again, "I'm open to more kids.  But, I want to do things differently this time.  I want us to adopt a child who really needs a home.  I want us to adopt a child through our state's foster system.  And, I'm even open to adopting a sibling group.  God has softened my heart to these kids who are in unfortunate circumstances through no fault of their own.  We can give them a home."

A surge of hope welled up in me, and I leaped to him and gave him a big hug.

We had never talked about this before.  This was never an option that we had ever sit down and discussed.  And yet, although I was filled with a new sense of hope and excitement, it was quickly replaced by fear and trepidation.

Aren't these children "damaged"? I don't want an older child.  I want a baby.  Don't these children have significant special needs? We can't take that on. This means I won't be pregnant again. 

And, shortly after sharing our news with friends and family, those same fears were confirmed.  Others had the same reaction.

What are we doing?

Well, in a nutshell, we're trusting God.

So where are we now in the process?  Well, first let me say that adopting through the state is a very different experience. It is much more intense, and many more families get weeded out than in private adoptions.  But, we're staying the course.  This week we will complete our sixth of eight classes we need to take.  We've submitted our formal application.  Background check is underway.  In two weeks, we will be assigned a case worker and wait for the homestudy process to begin.  Then, we wait.

And wait.  We expect the wait will be a couple years given the criteria we've chosen (so far).  We do want a younger child, but are open to more than one child.  We also recognize we don't have the capacity to care for a child with "significant" special needs.  We are going into this process with our eyes wide open, recognizing that we are making a lifelong decision.  The child(ren) need to be a right fit for us, and we need to be a right fit for them.

But the more that we've dived into this process, the more Tygh's enthusiasm is wearing off on me.  God has given me a heart for these children.

And, although I still desire to have a miraculous spontaneous pregnancy, it is quietly being supplanted with the desire to adopt one (or more!) of these children.  I no longer want a pregnancy and a newborn in place of adopting; I want it in addition to.

I keep speaking about a miracle pregnancy.  And yet, as I write this, I'm realizing that my husband's change of heart, and his heart condition in general, is a miracle in itself.  For that, I am so thankful.

Brae, for one, is also very excited about growing our family.  He will tell you that he wants a younger brother and sister, and after that, an older brother and sister.

In closing (and sorry this is so long), what has me most excited about sharing this news with you is that this is an option open to most e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e who wants to start a family.  It's not available to just the fertile, or just those with money.  This is an option for you, if you have walked a path similar to mine and the journey to growing your family has not been easy. 

This could be your solution. 

Your "Plan B" may have been God's "Plan A" all along.  It may be time for you to get on board.

I encourage you, if your heart has at all been pricked by the adoption bug, to learn more about it.  If money has ever been a hindrance to you pursuing adoption, I encourage you to go to an informational session about adopting through your state. 

It's not at all what you think.

It is so much better. 

Birthmom visit: Quite the adventure!

We had our third visit with Brae's birthmom yesterday.  It started off a little bumpy just due to circumstances, but ended up being a complete blessing.

We met at a park that neither one of us had been to before, but that had been recommended to me.  I texted her to meet us at the playground.  After about 15 minutes when she still hadn't shown up, we texted again.  She said she was at the playground.  I looked around.  She was not.  After a few more texts, she called.  I could tell she seemed a little exasperated (I couldn't blame her!).  She said she was at the playground and that there were sketchy people around that made her feel uncomfortable. 

Finally, we figured out that this park has not one, not two, not even three, but four (!) playgrounds.  Sigh.  The best laid plans...

Once we finally met up, we hugged and it was the greatest bear hug in the world.  She brought her little girl, who is now 7, and is Brae's half-sister.  Brae was a little shy at first, but he and his half-sister quickly made up for lost time.  They ran around the playground playing tag and hide-and-go-seek.

And, of course, little Miss Sienna was perfectly content roaming around the park on her own, throwing bark dust, growling at other children, strong-arming Brae if he got too close to her,  and basically just being her sassy, lovely self. 

My sister also came along, and it was the first time anyone on in our family has met Brae's birthmom.  It was extremely special for us to make that connection, and one for which I am grateful.

I am a big believer that environment plays a huge role in who we are, but especially after yesterday's visit, I cannot deny the role that genetics plays.  Brae and his half-sister are so much alike.  

They look similar.  They run the same, with their arms flailing behind them.  They talk the same.  They have the same mannerisms.  They are both stubborn, strong-willed children.  They are both mathematically inclined.  They are both extremely organized and persnickity. They are both leaders, socially outgoing, and they speak their mind.

And I love them both.

After a rather rough tumble off the swing, Brae's half-sister decided she'd had enough of the park, and we went to a local pizza parlor/amusement place.  True to form, neither Brae nor his half-sister were interested in eating much, but they went straight to play on all the games.  That gave Tygh and I a chance to talk more with Brae's birthmom.

Events have changed such that she is no longer leaving the state to go to nursing school, but will stay in-state to go to school.  A turn of events I am very happy with!  We also spoke about her daughter's recent (very common) diagnosis of a condition that has required significant attention on the part of her medical and educational team.  She said that she is actually doing quite well and adjusting nicely to the new system they have set up for her.

Then, as things usually do, the conversation turned briefly to adoption.  Brae's birthmom mentioned that before every visit, her friends ask her whether she is sad to be going to the visit.  Sad that Brae is with us, not her.  She quickly brushes them off with, "No, not at all.  Especially when I see [Brae and her daughter] together, I realize how I couldn't have done it on my own.  Adoption was the right decision."  She also mentioned that when she hears of other birthmoms who have made a decision to adopt, brought an adoptive family on board, and then change their mind at the hospital, how her heart breaks for those families.  I thought that was an interesting perspective. 

Then she mentioned how her daughter explains adoption to others: "Mommy found this great family who was really sad they didn't have a baby.  So, we gave him our baby.  But, it's okay, because they are really nice people." 

Brae, to his credit, has a similar take on adoption: "Mommy and Daddy were at the hospital when I was born.  I got pushed out, and then I was a gift.  That's called adoption." 

At the end of the evening, there were several more bear hugs and pictures. 

And in the car, on the way home, Brae piped up, "I like [his half-sister].  I'm sad.  I miss her.  I want to see her again tomorrow." 

That, sums up the painful part of adoption. 

Sienna's 15-month-stats

I love this photo of my daughter.  It captures one of my favorite aspects to her personality - her feistiness. 

15-month-stats:

1) Head circumference: 65th percentile  Larger than Brae at this age
2) Weight: 25 lb. 90z: 80th percentile   Larger than Brae at this age
3) Height: 33 1/4 inches: Off the charts.  Again.  Larger than Brae at this age.  At this rate, she could be 6 feet tall or more!

 The doctor also noted that it's clear she has an older brother.  The girl can hold her own (kind of like a honey badger!). I think she slaps everyone she meets.  Out of pure love, of course!

Her blond hair is also getting quite blond, and a little long.  Let's face it, it was a mullet.  We had our first haircut this weekend (yes, I saved it!).  She has this little ringlet curls that melt me.  With her aqua eyes, she's quite the beauty. 

Sienna, 

My darling daughter.  I love you more than you can possibly know.  I love your spirited personality.  You inspire me.  You make me want to be a better person.  I love how you are your own independent woman, even at the tender age where I still refer to your age in months, not years.  If I had my prediction,  you are either going to be President, an astronaut, or a boxer.  Whichever path you choose, baby girl, know that I will always love you, and always try to put bows in your hair.   Thank you for calling me, "Mommy." 

PS -- for those of you who don't know already, I'll be posting on here in a few weeks some very exciting news! (No, not a pregnancy announcement -- but equally as exciting for us!)

Birthfather visit: the best yet.

On Saturday, we met up with Brae's birthfather's side of the family.  This was our fourth visit since Brae was born, and it was by far the best yet.  Brae's birthfather showed up.  He didn't make it last year, although his family did.  It is the third time he has seen him since he was born.

We met at a local amusement park, and then went to a kid-friendly pizza joint.  Brae hadn't napped, so he was a little grumpy/shy at first.  But, slowly, he started warming up to the family.  He and his birthfather, and Tygh, even went on a few rides together.

My husband is amazing.  I think he feels a mentoring relationship with Brae's birthfather.  I watched as Tygh and Brae's birthfather stood talking, and walking, for much of the visit.  I was dying to know what they were talking about, but I was too busy corralling Sienna from knocking people over through the crowds.  That girl has about a 5-foot radius wherever she goes.  Love her.

Later, I got a chance to ask Tygh about his chat with Brae's birthfather.  Brae's birthfather said that he had first learned of Brae's birthmom's decision to choose adoption through friends.  They were broken up at the time, and not speaking.  He said he signed the adoption papers because he thought was the way to win her back.  When she went into labor, she didn't tell him.  He said that hurt.

But, he said, it has all turned out for the best.  He said that he couldn't provide for Brae in the way that he would want to.  He said he is so thankful that Brae has two parents who love him so much.

I first met Brae's birthfather the day Brae was born, in the hospital.   He didn't say much.  He held Brae for a little bit, and then left.  He was 19. 

The second time I saw him was 2 years ago, when we had a visit, at the zoo.  Again, he didn't say much.  He played with Brae a little, but we could tell he felt a little awkward.  He was 21. 

Saturday was the third time I saw him.  It was the first time I actually had a conversation with him.  He mentioned that his life went downward after Brae was born.  He lost his job.  He and Brae's birthmom weren't speaking.  He went through a series of bad relationships.  He fell into a depression.  He said the adoption, and losing Brae's birthmom, broke him. 

But, he acknowledged, he's now in a better place.  He's engaged to a beautiful girl.  He seems happy and content.  He said the pain of placing a child for adoption has caused him to wonder whether he could have another child.  But, he spoke of how he hopes that he and Brae can have a relationship as Brae gets older.  He said that adoption was the best decision for Brae.   He is now 23.

Adoption is a rare animal.  It brings together two families in crisis and creates something beautiful.  We are forever connected to Brae's birthfamily, and we were complete strangers when we met.  In many ways, we still are.

There is also a pendulum of pain.  There is enormous pain for those struggling with infertility and who choose the adoption path as the way to start their family.  But, when that baby is born and placed in your arms, that pain seems to flee.  Or, at least it escapes into the background for a while.  But at that same moment, when that baby is placed in their arms, the birthfamily's pain seems to just begin.  All the emotions that hid in the background during those 9-10 months come rushing to the forefront.

I told Brae's birthfamily that I couldn't possibly understand what it was like for them to watch their first grandchild be handed over to complete strangers. I hurt for them.


Although I tell Brae that what his birthparents did was a gift to us, I know that is not why they did it.  They did it for Brae.  They had to.  If they did it for any other reason, they probably would not have gone through with it.

I cannot think of any bigger display of love than to recognize when you are not equipped to care for a child, and then to love that child so much that you choose a life for them that you want, but cannot, provide. 

I am honored to be a part of the adoption experience. 

A new addition.

On August 31, we welcomed a new little one into our family. 

Danielle Elizabeth was born right around lunch time to Tygh's youngest sister and her husband.  It is their first child. 

Danielle (Dani for short) is named in honor of Tygh (his middle name is Daniel), and Tygh's middle sister, whose middle name is Elizabeth.

Danielle is now the 4th grandchild for the Colton clan, and now Sienna has a girl playmate to join her brother and cousin brother.  Dani and Sienna are just over 14 months apart.  Sienna is already playing the role of doting older sister cousin.

And Brae has officially "blessed" the new grandchild, being that he is the Godfather of the Grandchildren.

Scenes from Summer

What's the Right Word?

Sienna has a unique personality.  It's actually probably the most unique I've ever seen.  It's so unique that I can't even find the right word to describe it.  Several suggestions by friends and family have been posed, but none seem to fit quite right:
-- divine diva
-- pugnacious
-- tenacious
-- precocious
-- spitfire

Perhaps you can help find the right word. 

A bit more about her...  

She's feisty.  Brae tries to hug her and she bites back (course, he's also trying to steal her toy as he's hugging her).  She has this I don't care what you think attitude that is strangely endearing and admirable.  She walks with her chin up in the air, almost daring you to give her a punch only so she can knock you silly.

She doesn't want you invading her bubble, except when all she wants is to cuddle in your lap.  She likes to scream. But not always because she's mad.  Sometimes she screams because she's happy, scared, uncomfortable, or just wants to fill the room with her voice.  She loves dogs, food, and carrying around her baby dolls, which dolls she will also hurl into the corner when she sees a remote control car that she'd rather play with. 

She doesn't like baths.  She'd rather climb into the sink and stick her face under the faucet.  She doesn't stop talking.  Ever.  She loves giving kisses, except when she'd rather hit you instead. 

In a word, the girl is a complete contradiction.  And she totally keeps me on my toes.  But there has to be some word that describes this rare ball of fun. 

Maybe that word is just . . . Sienna.

She's Moving.

Brae's birthmom is moving.  Several states away.  Now, she lives just hours away; soon she and her daughter will live several hundred miles away.

I'm sad.  For my boy.

I adore Brae's birthmom.  And not just because of the gift she gave us, but because of the person that she is.  Even apart from the circumstances that have forever welded us together, she is someone I would befriend. 

And she's always longed to better herself and her lot in life. 

I remember after she delivered Brae, sitting in the hospital room with her, alone, on Halloween night.  Brae was sleeping in the crib.  I was lying on the (very uncomfortable) pull out hospital sofa.  Rachael was in the hospital bed where just hours before she had given birth to our son.

It was quiet.  It was dark.  Every so often we would hear the squeak squeak squeak of the rubber shoes of nursing staff passing by our room. 

And in the middle of this silence and darkness, Rachael voiced her hopes.  Her dreams.  She wanted to return to school.  She wanted to be a nurse.  She knew she could not achieve those things with another child in her home, when she did not have a partner to support her. 

That was nearly 4 years ago.  Her time has come.  She is moving out of state to chase those hopes and dreams. 

I'm so exceedingly happy for her and proud of her.  And yet, my heart is breaking.  For my son. 

The relationship we have with Brae's birthmom is unique.  It is probably one that many adoptive families long to have.  Brae's birthmom has never been intrusive.  I have never once felt threatened by her.  She has always been extremely respectful of the fact that she chose us to be Brae's parents.  She has never tried to interfere or insert herself into our lives.

So many adoptive families would want that.  And yet, I yearn for her to be more of a part of Brae's life.  For Brae's sake.  I know with her moving away, it will only become more difficult to engage with her and have our yearly visits. 

We were set to have our next visit at the end of September.  With this news, we have bumped it up to the beginning of September.  I'm so excited to see her again, and to hug her.  I want to tell her how so very proud of her I am that she is finally able to realize her hopes and dreams of becoming a nurse.  I want Brae to see his half-sister, and watch them run around and play.  I want Brae to remember these precious times with each of them and know how very loved he is by so many people. 

So that if our visits with them become less frequent over the years, he will never ever feel that he was abandoned or foresaken. 

He was not. 

He is not. 

I've become that person.

I've become that person.

You know the one.  The one that people send their friends to.  The one that people can go to ask questions.  The one that gets invited to coffee by acquaintances of acquaintances because they simply want to hear about someone (anyone) who has been there before.  I'm the one that my friends and their friends and their friends come to when the unthinkable happens:  

Infertility. 

Whether the person sitting across from me at the Starbucks table is interested in fertility treatment, adoption, embryo adoption, or the other myriad of options we either did or looked at to start our family, the conversation is invariably the same.  It's my story.  With all of its sleepless nights, tear-soaked pillows, flat-on-my face misery that slowly gave way for two brief periods of time to reveal the miracle of life in the births of my son and then my daughter. 

For the last 5 years, I have been in a storm.  The rain stopped and the sun shone on me the first time nearly 4 years ago with the birth of my son through the miracle of domestic adoption.  And then the storm sucked me back in as I longed, yearned to be pregnant and give birth.  Then, the rain stopped again and the sun shone on me for the second time just over a year ago with the birth of my daughter through the miracle of embryo adoption. 

Now, I'm disappointed (and ashamed) to say, I feel back in the storm yet again.  Because I long for one more.  I'm angry at myself that I cannot seem to simply be content with the abundant blessings I've already been given.  Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!   

(That was the voice in Jan's head in the Brady Bunch series, in case you're wondering.  I have a similar voice.  In my head.  It's equally tormenting.  But at least it says my own name and not that of the 70s character).

If I didn't know myself better, I'd say that I tend to feel more comfortable in storms. And maybe I do.  Perhaps I like to prove wrong the old adage, "You are either just exiting a storm, in a storm, or about to enter a storm" by simply remaining in my storm.

But I digress. Or maybe I don't.  I have become that person who encounters others in the midst of their storm. 

And while I may still be in my own storm, I hope that as I sip my cup of coffee across from my new friend, at least I can offer a hand to this girl in the storm next to me to let her know she is not alone. 

I will endure the storm with her. 

A picnic, cake, and ice cream

There is Someone You Can Talk to

A good friend of mine is embarking upon the embryo adoption journey for the first time.

She's scared.  She's nervous.  She's excited.  She's optimistic.  She's pessimistic.  She's realistic.  And she needed someone to talk to.  And, her donors needed someone to talk to.

While I can absolutely walk alongside her on this path I've journeyed ahead of her, I wouldn't know the first thing to say to her donors, who also felt very scared, nervous, excited, optimistic, pessimistic, realistic.

So, I texted our donors and asked if they would be willing to talk to her donors.  I knew without hesitation that they would.  And they did.  My friend's donors now have others who can walk alongside them on this path that my donors have journeyed ahead of them.  And that is just beyond cool to me.

The adoption community is pretty small.  And it's intimate and well-connected.  I had the privilege of meeting other women on the adoption journey that I now consider friends and in whose lives I am deeply invested.  But perhaps even more important, my children also have a community that is intimate and well-connected through these other children who have been where they are.  Felt similar emotions.  Experienced similar thought processes.  Encountered similar people to whom they had to battle cancerous misconceptions about the adoption process.  I'm grateful a community like that exists for them.

And if you are considering adoption, in whatever form, there is someone YOU can talk to as well.  A donor, a recipient, a birthmom, a birthfather, an adoptive family.  You don't have to go at this alone, and you would be doing yourself a great disservice if you did.

As an aside, there is a new series on the Oxygen channel called "I'm Having Their Baby."  I've only seen two episodes, but it is a raw look into the hearts and minds of birthmoms and adoptive families.  I have not been disappointed in their portrayal of adoption; quite to the contrary.  It doesn't shy away from the hard emotions that both sides feel, and yet it is respectful of each side's journey. 

This show is just one more example that adoption has changed so much in the last few decades. Adoption is not secretive.  It's not shameful.  It's not something to whisper about.  It's something to celebrate.  To honor.  To seek to understand and respect those who have journeyed through it.  And know that if you want to take that leap of faith, you will have someone who can take your hand and jump too. 

Teaching your child a second language.

Sienna said her first Spanish word the other day.  It is "agua" (water).  That was also Brae's first Spanish word (and maybe even his first word, period).

Since my kids were each 3.5 months old, they have been going to a Spanish immersion daycare/school down the street from my house.  I felt like I hit the jackpot when I found this place.  Not only is it incredibly close to our home, but it is reasonably priced.  The headmaster has her Master's degree in elementary education, and she tries to keep the prices affordable for teacher's kids (of whom there are a lot at the school).

The school is set up like an actual school, not a daycare.  This was also a big selling point for me.  It's not a fancy school with the latest gadgets or toys.  It has a very neighborhood, organic, grassroots feel to it.  I love it.

There has been only one staff member change in the 3.5 years that we've gone there.  All of the instructors know Spanish as their first language.  And it is 100% espanol, all day long.  It is also the only school of its kind in the entire Portland, Oregon area.  I'm completely amazed that Brae can go from Spanish and English in the same breath when he talks to me, and then when he turns to talk to his teachers.

And yet, I'm astonished that there are not lines out the door trying to get into this school.

A recent Parents magazine edition had a lengthy article about the importance of teaching your child a second language, and the earlier, the better.  Not only does it give them a leg up in the job market, but it actually activates a part of their brain that is otherwise not activated when you don't speak a second language.  It's called the executive function of the brain, which allows you to focus on a task while distraction surrounds you.  Plus, the United States is an anomoly in that we don't teach our children another language from the time they are born.  You travel to any other industrialized nation, and the children speak at least one other language.

I've heard it said many times by parents who resist a bilingual education for their kids that they themselves don't speak the second language.  I understand that resistance and hesitancy.  I do.  But, with all due respect, that should not be the reason a child is deprived the opportunity to learn the second language. Plus, it is a fantastic opportunity for the parents to also learn the second language.

I started studying Spanish when I was in 7th grade.  I ended up minoring in it in college, and did an exchange abroad to Puerto Rico.  I've gone on several missions trips to Mexico.  My sister is a high school Spanish teacher.  My mom speaks Spanish and has used it on medical missions trips.  And yet, my 3.5-year-old son is still teaching me new words.

So, I'm here to get on my little soapbox and encourage all of you parents who have been hesitant (for whatever reason), to reconsider a bilingual education for your child.  It doesn't have to be by going to an immersion school.  It can be by watching a cartoon or movie in another language.  It can be by getting a book in another language (most have the second language and English so you can compare).  It can be by getting flashcards.  It can be by listening to music in another language.  Anything that exposes them to actually learning words in another language.

They just may thank you for it down the road. 

Off soapbox.  The juggling act is next.

Brae-isms

Brae is a complete chatterbox.  In fact, at our recent family vacation (pictured above with Sienna and their cousin), he attracted the new nickname "Comma."  (because there are no periods when he talks).  With that, here's the latest edition of Brae-isms:

1) Brae: "Mommy, will you marry me?"
    Me: "Aww, I love you, son, but I can't marry you.  I'm married to Daddy."
    (Wheels turning)
    Brae: "If I were taller, would you marry me?"

2) I was upstairs in the laundry room getting ready to take Brae to the park.  He'd just peed his pants (which he often does if he hasn't gone for a while, and starts playing really hard).  He was taking off his wet pants, putting them in the washing machine, and putting on a new pair.  As he was doing this, I thought, "It's really hot outside.  I should probably change out of my jeans."  So, I pulled a pair of my shorts out of the dryer (yes, clean clothes often stay in our dryer for days, and sometimes require re-drying to get the wrinkles out).  As I was taking off my jeans, and putting on my shorts, Brae looked at me, wide-eyed, and said, "Mommy, did you pee your pants, too?"

3) Brae has learned the word "stupid."  I think from the older kids at school.  I scold him whenever he says it, and sometimes he has to go to time out if he doesn't stop saying it.  The other day, I caught him singing, "Stupid, you so stupid, stupid, alalalallaaaaaa, you are s-t-u-p-i-ddddddddd!"  "Brae!" I said.  He turned to look at me, in bewilderment.  "Brae, I've told you we don't say that word.  It's not nice."  "But Mooommmmmyyyy," he began, "I'm just singing my song."

4) I was hosting my friend's baby shower.  She and I were outside by the front door just chatting, watching some of the kids play in the front yard.  Sienna was sitting on the front stoop.  Suddenly, I turn to see Brae standing at the open front door, above Sienna.  And before I could even catch my wits about me, he had dropped his trousers to his ankles and was peeing right over Sienna's head.  It was like the McDonald's golden arc right over my daughter's head.  I thought my friend may have gone into labor right then and there, she was laughing so hard. 

Adoption: How Open Am I?

Recently, I overheard a friend telling Sienna's story to a group of people I barely knew.  It caught me a little off guard to overhear her revealing such an intimate and personal experience to people that I would not have openly shared this information.  I winced in the background as my friend continued on at great lengths about Sienna's story, getting facts wrong along the way. 

I know my friend and I know her intentions were well meaning, but the pit in my stomach caused me to question why was I so bothered by this?

After much thought, I think it is because I view Sienna's story (and Brae's story) as their story.  It's their story to share with whomever, how ever, whenever, and even if they want to.  Certainly, my family and friends (and this blogging community) know their story.  And that is because I feel grateful for this platform and opportunity to share such an amazing and life-giving adventure.  I want more people to know how amazing adoption is -- in every form.  It's also because Sienna and Brae's stories are part of my story as well.  So, I've invited people along on this journey with me.

But, somehow, I feel like a faint line is crossed when I'm not a part of sharing my children's story.  Perhaps it is because I'm so mama-bear protective of my kids, I want to be in charge of how the message is delivered.  I don't want to run the risk of some well-meaning stranger making an off-the-cuff comment and someone else not responding in a way that I would have.

I also want to hold my children's stories inviolate.  I'm their mom, yes, and their stories are part of my story, yes, but I also want to be respectful of the fact that they, not me, will be the target of any disrespectful or ignorant comments about adoption.  I want them to decide whether they want to share their stories, and if they do, I want it to be on their terms.  I don't want to rob them of that, or unnecessarily put a target on their backs.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm absolutely not ashamed of their stories or how they came to be in our family.  I think God has set them apart, has divinely chosen them, and they are beyond special and privileged.  I've been the one blessed by them; not the other way around.  It is an honor for me to be the one they call "Mommy."

But, at the same time, I'm a realist.  I know there exist a lot of naive and uninformed stereotypes and misconceptions about adoption.  I want to protect my kids from those arrows.  So, until they can shield themselves, I want to be the one in charge of delivering their very unique and beautiful stories. 

Am I wrong?

Sienna's ear surgery

Last week, Little Miss went in for ear tubes.  She is 13 months old.  She has had a chronic history of ear infections since she was born. In fact, her baseline has pretty much been congestion since birth.  We have done the "wait and see" approach before, as well as have used antibiotics -- both with limited success. 

Brae also had ear tubes placed when he was 18 months old.  He was never quite as consistently congested as Sienna, but did have a chronic history of ear infections.  Again, we did the "wait and see" approach, and used antibiotics.  Again, both offered limited success.  But, the ear tubes were hugely successful for Brae.  He had one ear infection after the tubes were inserted, but that's it.  The tubes were functional for a full 18 months. 

Sienna's most recent bout with double ear infections resulted in 3 weeks of antibiotics.  And they only cleared up one year.  After the last meeting with the ear doctor, he recommended Sienna was a good candidate for ear tubes.

We decided to go forward with it.

The surgery itself was pretty uneventful -- just about 15 minutes under general light anesthesia.  The doctor confirmed she had yet another double ear infection, so I feel it was good we had the tubes put in.  Little Miss did great coming out of the anesthesia (contrast to Brae's bloody murder screams), and all she wanted was food (of course.  That's my girl).

Although I was hesitant, at first, to have the surgery when she's at such a tender age, I wish now that we had them put in even earlier.  The girl has changed .  She no longer has a consistent runny nose, cough, etc.  She's no longer fussy -- at all.  While her walking was a little wobbly before the surgery, she is now full steam ahead with walking.  You can just tell that she feels so much better.  Praise God for little plastic ear tubes!

As an aside, it's curious to me how two children, not genetically related, are both prone to chronic ear infections and were both good candidates for ear tubes?

My research shows there may be two environmental culprits: 1) school/day care and 2) milk.

First, children who are in a school or daycare-like environment tend to generally get more colds, which can result in more ear infections.  This makes sense.  As a product of daycare myself, I can say that the course of colds I got when I was younger has strengthened my immune system.  Since I started kindergarten, I've rarely gotten sick, and I'd like to thank all the snot-nose kids in my daycare for that!  (Now go blow your nose!)

Second, apparently kids who drink a lot of cow's milk get more ear infections.  I have to say, my kids both like milk, so this makes sense as well.

I'm not advocating that ear tubes are for every child.  Certainly not.  Personally, I think the wait-and-see approach serves most kids the best.  If that doesn't work, I think the next step is to see if antibiotics help.  If, however, ear infections seem to persist without much relief, I think tubes offer a very viable solution, and I'm thankful they are available . . .

and mostly covered by insurance! yay!

One of the main reasons we chose open adoption.

I've been sitting on this post for a while, not quite sure how I wanted to talk about it.

A couple months ago, Brae's birthmom informed us that her daughter, Brae's biological half sister, was recently diagnosed with a medical condition.  In the interest and respect for their privacy, I won't name the condition or discuss details.  I will say, however, that this is a commonly diagnosed medical condition, but one that will nonetheless change her life.  My heart goes out to Brae's birthmom as she is dealing with the imports of this diagnosis. 

Hearing of the diagnosis spawned a host of concerns for Brae.  Could he also have it?  If so, what will that mean for his life?

One should never do medical research on the internet.  I'm just sayin'.

After dousing myself in armchair diagnostics, I marched to the doctor's office. 

I told the doctor about Brae's biological half-sister's diagnosis, and listed a litany of possible reasons why Brae may also have the condition. 

The doctor laughed in my face.  But, to amuse me I suppose, he examined Brae and poked and prodded.

"No," he said.  "Brae does not have it."

I left the doctor's office feeling relieved.  But not so much that Brae didn't have the condition (for which I am thankful), but relief that I have the kind of open adoption where Brae's birthmom not only has the courage and willingness to share this information with me, but she actually has the access to me to do so. 

And that kind of access to key pieces of information, like medical information that has already come in handy on more than one occasion, is just one of the many reasons why we chose open adoption. 

And it goes farther than just Brae.  We also have an open adoption with Sienna's genetic family.  I'm grateful for the access we have to not only medical history on a piece of paper, but medical information from the mouthpiece of the people who lived through it, and are still.  Medical information that is current and up to date.  Our donor's daughter, 10 years older than Sienna, has lived through 10+ years of life, of which I get the benefit.  She and Sienna have already shared several medical similarities for which I am so grateful that I can discuss with our donors.  Everything ranging from "Soooo, how did you get your daughter to stop gagging on her food?" to "Whoa, Sienna has torticollis.  Your daughter did, too.  How did you get through it?"

I also so appreciate, that with Brae and Sienna, having an open adoption gives me a crystal ball, of sorts, into their future.  Brae's biological half-sister is a few years older than he is; Sienna's genetic siblings are 10+ years older.  In both cases, I already see a ton of similarities.  I also see a ton of differences.  But it is really neat to get a glimpse into what your child may look like and be like when they get older.

I recently heard of a medical study that determined that who we are is 99% a product of our environment.  Brae and Sienna are products of me and Tygh.  However, that 1% genetic blueprint variable is an unknown.  I am grateful that, with open adoption (for us), the unknown is a little more knowable.

***

And on a related medical note, Little Miss is getting ear tubes this week.  Eeekk!