Birthmom visit: What she said

Last weekend, we had our 4th visit with Brae's birthmom and his half-sister. 

I've said time and time again that genetics play a nominal role in the similarities between siblings, and yet each time I see Brae's half-sister, I feel like that role just keeps getting bigger.

They look so much alike.  They make the same facial expressions.  They make the same hand gestures.  Even their pout is the same.  They react to things very similarly.  It's astounding.

They are both very independent, strong-willed, and confident kids (all "nice" ways of saying "bossy"). 

I know all of these traits can be positives when channelled the right way. 

Brae's birthmom is engaged and getting married next summer.  I reiterated that if she wants us there, or Brae even in the wedding, it would be an honor.  She beamed and nodded.

As the conversation was winding down, we talked a little about Sienna (who was traipsing around the little gym, minding her own business).  And then Brae's birthmom said something that stung my gut:

"You know, I was a little worried when you told me you were pregnant with Sienna.  That you wouldn't want or love Brae as much because you didn't carry him."

Right. in. the. gut. 

I don't blame her at all for saying this. I think it's a very human and natural concern.  I get it.

But for us, it is so wrong. 

I explained to her that couldn't be further from the truth.  Brae made me a mom.  Sienna made me pregnant.  They are both so special and unique in their own ways.  I told her it was actually harder for me to bond with Sienna, simply because she was a "fussier" baby.  Brae was easy as pie.  Sienna was more high maintenance.

My love and attachment to each Brae and Sienna developed in their own natural ways, and neither of them had anything to do with whether I carried them or not.  They were both mine. 

She grinned. I think she got it.

The bond between brother and sister

Brae and Sienna share a very special bond.  I can kind of relate to it, because I have a younger sister, and three older stepbrothers. 

But Brae and Sienna's bond is unique.

They share not one gene between them, and
yet are thick as thieves.

They are the first person the other wants to see in the morning, and the last person the other wants to see at night.

Brae "reads" to Sienna. Sienna "cooks" him food. Brae "carries" her places. Sienna "helps" get him dressed.

If one isn't around, the other gets sad. And when they are together, they are running around the house laughing.

Even when they are fighting, it lasts only seconds before they are running around laughing again.

They say that boys mature slower than girls. Well, with them being only 2.5 years apart, and Brae being the oldest (and less mature), that age gap seems even smaller.

I'm so grateful for their bond and pray that it always remains this strong. I pray that Brae watches over her his whole life, and that she continues to look up to him as her older, protective big brother.

Some movement.

We have a new caseworker.  She emailed me even before I had a chance to email her!  And, she wants to set up a meet and greet.  I already like her. 

I also took a peek at the waiting children profile portal.  This profile portal is set up for families who have approved homestudies.  There are more children shown in this portal than in the general public viewing portal.  The children shown in the general public viewing portal are, unfortunately, the children who need the most advocacy.  My heart aches for them.

The children in this private portal are the ones that will get sought after quickly.  They have little/no drug exposure.  There are babies.  They are what, stereotypically, waiting families "want."

I did a search for children under the age of 2.  I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few children in this age category.

There was even a sister sibling couple, age 2 and newborn.  They didn't live together.  It broke my heart. 

And yet, we just aren't ready to make that next leap.  I'd like to get more settled into our new home.  We're also taking our last kid-less vacation in May, and I'd like to wait until after then before actively pursuing any leads.

But, I was infused with hope that our next child could very well be in this pool of children. 

That made me happy.

Five years ago today...

... I stood in a hospital room, holding a precious baby boy.

A mixture of emotions consumed me.  This baby was not genetically mine.  And yet, I loved him instantly.  A flood of unconditional love and affection had washed over me the second I saw his little head pop out.

I turned to look at his beautiful birthmother.  She was calm.  I know now that her heart was breaking inside, and it took every ounce in her to not crumble.  She was telling herself to stay strong.  This is what is best for him.  She loves him. 

I turned back to look at the baby boy in my arms.  Pink cheeks.  Auburn hair.  Blue eyes that couldn't stay open for but a few seconds. 

I couldn't lose him.  But, I also couldn't take him, either.  He had to be a gift.  Given over, freely.  That's the only way this could work. 

I kissed his forehead.  It smelled sweet.  New.  Soft. 

I stroked his hair, and rested my cheek against his. 

I looked up to see his birthmother smiling, approvingly.  She knew I loved him.  She knew he was ours, given by God to us, through her.  She felt confident in that.  Now, she just needed to get through the next few hours, days, and years. 

Not much has changed in these last five years. I still kiss my son's forehead, stroke his hair, and rest my cheek against his.  His hair has darkened, and so have his eyes.  But now he has lost his first tooth.  Now he speaks in paragraphs.  Now he wrestles his sister to the ground.

My love for him has also changed.  For a while, I struggled feeling like I was nothing more than his babysitter.  I struggled fully stepping into the "Mommy" role.  I felt if I did, I was somehow replacing his birthmom, whom I also loved. 

It took many months to realize that not being that Mommy, 100%, was doing a great disservice to my son, and his birthmom.  She didn't go through this incredible sacrifice for me to be just a babysitter. I needed to fully assume the role she had entrusted me with, and take hold of my title as Brae's Mommy.

So, that's what I've done. To this day, while I have taken full ownership as Mom to my little boy, it's never far from my mind that he is still just on loan to me. He is God's child, and there is only so much I can do to protect him. I need to trust that just as freely and lovingly as God gave him to us, I need to equally as freely and lovingly give him back to God, each and every day.

Happy birthday, my baby boy.

We love you.

Scenes from Fall...

Five things I've learned while living with the in-laws....

1.  Brae and Sienna miss "home."  They keep asking when they will go "home."  I keep telling them we don't have a home right now.  Sure, I could get into a theological engagement with them about how home is where your heart is, blah blah blah.  They are 4 and 2.  I'm not. 

2.  Naps are nice.  Very nice.  When you are shacking up with another family, there's not a lot of "honey-do" items for you to do.  It's not your house.  You have to know your place.  So, we take lots of naps instead.

3.  VCRs and tapes still really do come in handy.  They are more durable and scratch-resistant than DVDs.  My in-laws have VCRs.  And lots of tapes.  I like them.

4.  I'm a lot more low-maintenance than I thought.  I've packed my socks in some box that is now in a POD somewhere miles away.  No big deal.  I can wear the same socks a couple, three, four, ok, five times in a row.  Don't judge. 

5.  We are very blessed to have this as an option.  It sure beats the Holiday Inn.

Moving.

We sold our house a month ago.

In one day.  For above asking.  So, we asked for more.  And they accepted.  We hadn't even put our sign up yet.

I guess you can say that God was telling us to get the heck out of our house.

We had been thinking about it for a while - moving to a neighboring suburb with fantastic schools, and closer to friends and family.

We had no idea it would happen so fast.

We had not bought another house. 

I had many mental breakdowns in the first week after we sold.  Where were we going to live?

So, then we started looking.

We made an offer on House #1.  1970s.  Half acre.  Colonial.  Needed some updating.  We made them an offer.  They countered.  We countered.  I got cold feet.  We rescinded.

Lot of money, and still a lot of work.

So then we made an offer on House #2.  1970s.  Awesome neighborhood.  Dutch Colonial.  Needed lots of updating.  We made them an offer. They countered.  We accepted.  Inspection time came.  Lots of problems - radon, sewer, etc.  We asked them to repair half of what the inspection suggested.  They basically said no, and that they were done negotiating.  Take it or leave it.

We left it.

We made an offer on House #3.  2008.  Traditional.  Move-in ready.  We made them an offer.  They countered.  We countered.  They accepted.  Inspection tomorrow.  Praying nothing major.

We have to be out of our house on Wednesday. From start to finish, it will be 32 days since the day we sold our house.  That is very fast. 

The new house won't be ready until end of October.  So, we'll be living with my in-laws for a few weeks. 

After sleeping on a blow-up mattress, in a sleeping bag, and eating out of tupperware dishes, I'm extremely excited to move in with them.

Brae and Sienna have been amazing - with all the houses we've toted them around to - telling them to "go pick out their bedroom" in each one.  They've picked out about 8 bedrooms now.  They probably have no idea which house is actually theirs, at this point.

But, they don't care.  They just want us to make tunnels out of all the spare boxes in the house, eat lots of take out and pizza, and move in with Grammy and Guapo for a while.

I miss being a kid.

A Wedding. And a Divorce.

A few weeks ago, one of my best girlfriends got married.  It was an honor to be there for her special day, and to be able to stand next to her as a bridesmaid.

Also standing next to her as a bridesmaid was our other very dear friend.  She is going through a divorce. 

The dichotomy of the two still sends chills down my spine.

In the midst of the celebration of two amazing people finding love, another life is falling apart because of a lack of love.  While one man in a tuxedo proudly proclaimed his love in front of a hundred people, another man in sweats is sneaking around, cheating on his wife. 

There were several moments during the day when my sweet friend had to leave the festivities to just weep.  The "Father/Daughter" dance was especially hard. 

My heart just ached for her. 

It's hard to know what to say in moments like those.  She has two children.  Young children.  And her life is falling apart before her eyes. 

So, sometimes, it's better to say nothing at all. 

Instead, I weep with her.  And I hold my children a little tighter.  And I give my husband a kiss, and say "Thank you." 

I once heard someone say that if everyone was forced to put all their crap in a big pile, take a step back and look at everyone else's crap, every single one of us would gladly go back to the pile, and grab our own crap back. 

Behind every smile, is a load full of crap.  Be nice to someone today.

Painfully approved.

I had been in this same room many months earlier, and remember feeling tremendous hope at that time.

Now, this same room seemed dimmer, smaller, colder.

As I flipped through the 25 pages of our personal homestudy report at our local Department of Health & Human Services office, I felt a wave of panic.  Who would ever want a family like ours? Who would ever choose us?

When you read a personal account of your 30-some years on Earth, from a complete stranger, it's an odd experience.  Harsh.  Objective.  Judgmental.  Devoid of any emotional connection to the life that I actually lived.  And, since it's not trying to be an award-winning autobiography, it also lacks a sense of cohesiveness that feels like you're reading a story.  Instead, it feels like you're reading an indictment.

As I read through phrases like "Britney dresses with flair," and "Britney is assertive," and "the Colton's efficiently run home life doesn't leave much room for children breakdowns," I felt . . . exposed.  Vulnerable in a way I'd never felt before.  (Now, I don't even know what "dresses with flair" means, except it harkens me back to the movie "The Office," and Jennifer Aniston's work uniform suspenders decorated with buttons). 

I also didn't like how I was presented in this report.  I closed the last page feeling, Is this really how people see me? I felt like I came across as Cruella Deville.  Assertive?  Would she use such an adjective describing a man?  It took everything in me to bite my tongue and not say, "Dear caseworker, in my professional world, people return phone calls promptly.  People respond to emails promptly.  Simply following up on an unanswered phone call or email categorizes me as assertive?" 

But, of course, I didn't say anything.  I didn't want to be assertive.

So, instead, I bit my tongue and marveled at how anyone would ever want to subject themselves to the last 12 months that we've been through with this homestudy process. 

Delay upon delay upon delay.  Unanswered emails.  Unanswered phone calls.  Countless meetings, pages of notes, all culminating in a 25-page report that labeled me, in my opinion, as someone I would not want to be friends with.

As our caseworker politely explained that this is her job - all reports look like this - we're a "good family," I thought back to a sign I had seen walking into the building that day.  It was a poster taped to the receptionist's desk.  It read, "147 children today are waiting in foster care to be adopted.  Will you be the family they've been waiting for?"

I had to chuckle.  Really? That sign insinuates that the child is waiting for a family to decide to adopt.  Instead, the truth is that the child is waiting for the State to have more resources, more caseworkers, and more time for probing into the lives of decent families. 

Those 147 children are not waiting on families like us.  They are waiting for the State to get out of its own way and remove the bureacratical blockades.

As I feel my blood pressure start to rise just writing this, I realize it's time to close.  And, just as anti-climatic as it felt yesterday hearing the words from our caseworker as we left the room ...

Our homestudy has been approved.

Birthfamily visit #4

We had our annual birthfamily visit with Brae's birthfather and his side of the family.  I've said this each year, but they really do keep getting better and more comfortable.

We met at a local amusement park and the kids had a blast going on all the rides and into all of the little venues. 

Brae knew more about his birthfather this time around, mostly just from being more able to understand.  I had tried to tell him that his birthfather, along with his birthmother, had helped create him and loved him very much.  And then his birthmom pushed him out of her tummy, right into Mommy and Daddy's arms.  It was an act of selflessness, love, and sacrifice. 

Knowing all of this, as soon as we got to the park and met the birthfather's family, Brae immediately said, "Ok! So which one of you pushed me out of your tummy?!"  It was the ideal icebreaker.

Brae and Sienna both hammed it up the whole visit, putting everyone in stitches.  Sienna being her usual hostile, spunky self, and Brae just willing to do anything for a good laugh. 

We didn't get personal until near the end of the visit when the birthfather's grandmother mentioned that Brae's birthfather still had a hard time with the adoption.  Of course, he was grateful and happy Brae was in such a good, loving home, and that all had turned out just fine, but still just mourning it all.  She asked if we'd be willing to speak with him sometime about how he was feeling.  Absolutely, we said. 

It hurts my heart that he feels that way.  I just don't want to see him hurting.  And, I cannot imagine the pain that he has endured during it all. 

I'm sure that pain never goes away.  The hope is that with open adoption, the pain of the unknown is somewhat diminished.  And, that over time, a relationship between the two of them can develop. 

At the end of the visit, as with all the other visits, they had early birthday presents for him.  And, very sweetly, they brought gifts for Sienna as well. 

We left with full hearts. 

Until next year!

Brae and his birthfather

 

Birthfather's family

 

Getting his Leapfrog "ipad"

 

Sienna walking off with her loot (a new backpack)

EA in the news!

I stumbled across this great article that made national headlines this last week.  What I love about this EA mom's story is just her sheer bravery to open up a very personal part of her life to the public.  A public that can be very harsh, especially about things they know not much about. 

And yet, while it is awesome that this is a national news story, it still baffles me that it is even a news story.  Perhaps it's because I'm connected to such a great EA community that it's hard to remember that EA is still relatively unknown. 

But, I love that it's being talked about, in a very non-judgmental and open way.  Hopefully this article will just continue to spawn discussions about people looking to grow their families, and those looking for options for their frozen embryos.

http://news.msn.com/science-technology/long-frozen-embryo-brings-joy-to-adoptive-parents

Scenes from a Family Vacation: Part II

Highlights of the summer:

Brae: 1) First loose tooth and 2) Riding a bike with no training wheels!

Sienna: 1) Speaking short sentences and 2) Using the potty - albeit only when she wants to

Enjoy!

Scenes from a Family Vacation: Part I

We just returned from an awesome 12-day family vacation.  We started off at Eagle Crest (Central Oregon) for 8 days with my side of the family, and then 4 days at Black Butte (also Central Oregon) with Tygh's side of the family.

And since pictures are worth a thousand words...

Waiting for Prince Charming

This last weekend was one of my best girlfriend's bachelorette parties.  I'm also a bridesmaid in her wedding, along with two of my other closest friends.  It is indeed cause for great celebration.

And as we drove off in the Barbie-pink extended Hummer limo (oh, yeah), I got to thinking about my precious Sienna. How one day, she may be all dolled up, with a .75 cent plastic crown from Dollar Tree on her head, heading off for an afternoon of wine tasting with her friends in celebration of finding her Prince Charming.

Is Sienna's husband even born yet?  What will he look like? Will she choose a man of integrity, honor, and humility?  Will he love and respect her like she deserves?  What will her new last name be?

I remember Tygh's dad telling me after Tygh had proposed that he and his wife had been praying for their son's wife since he was a little boy.  What an honor to think that I was in response to their prayers.  Wow.

I have not yet specifically set out to pray for Sienna's husband on a deliberate and regular basis, but this last weekend convicted me that perhaps I should.  My dear friend has found her Prince Charming, but she indeed had to kiss a lot of frogs (don't we all).  Do I pray that Sienna will be spared the same heartache?  Do I pray that she won't, in the hopes that it will promote endurance and produce character in her?

It's tough being a mom of kids, period.  But I feel a particular responsibility being the mom of a girl.  In a lot of ways, this world is a lot rougher on girls than it is on boys.  (And yet, I have to say my son cries a whole heck of a lot more than my daughter). 

It's a lot to shoulder, but also a proud and mighty burden to bear. 

Too much to take in during just an afternoon of wine tasting with the girls, but the grape is starting to grow on the vine. 

Fearless.

You probably know by now that I have a daughter, who recently turned 2. Her name is Sienna.

God has blessed her in many, many ways.  She is genetically gifted (she's gorgeous).  She's funny.  She's spunky.  She's pugnacious.  She's tall (over 3 feet).  She loves to eat.  She loves to sleep.

But what you may not know is that this girl is f.e.a.r.l.e.s.s. 

This point has been driven home as of late.

Some recent examples:

1) She insisted on going down a 50' spiraled water slide, by herself, head first, the very first time we took her to the pool.  She went completely underwater, bobbed right up, with her toothy smile, and shouted, "Again!"  And then she climbed out of the water, and marched right over to the long spiraled staircase, elbowing the older kids out of the way to get to the top.  I just stood in the pool, at the bottom of the slide, aghast. 

2) At her gymnastics class, she does belly flops into the foam pit, while the older kids delicately climb in.

3) At her tumbling gym, she climbs head first into a tall bucket, no idea what's inside the bucket.  Her little legs sticking straight up in the air. 

4) At the park, if you look away for even a second, she has run into the forest, and lain down in the brush so you can't see her.  And when you find her to try and scold her, she just looks up at you, giggling amongst the weeds. 

5) If Brae so much as breathes wrong on her, she kicks her foot into his face.

6) She prefers to drink water from the dog's bowl.

7) She eats bugs.

8) She rolls in dirt.

9) During snacktime, when another kid isn't looking, she has traded her empty milk carton for his full one, and has taken a bite of his sandwich. 

10) She puts on her shoes, throws her sparkly doggy purse over her shoulder, and walks out the front door without even saying 'goodbye.' 

I know that, channeled correctly, these are envious traits that will serve her well in life.  However, as a toddler, my fearless daughter has stricken fear into the heart of her mother.  It makes me wonder, Did 10 years frozen in a test tube incite this balls-to-the wall zest for life?  I may never know.

Notice the bruises and band-aids on her legs.

                      At our friend's bbq, she went straight for the tractor and tried to start it.