Tuesday, April 27, 2010

What Does This Mean?

I was laying in bed last night and I couldn't sleep. Something was on my mind. I felt like I had forgotten something, but couldn't place what it was. I thought to myself, "the alarm is set, the second alarm is set, gym bag is ready, teeth are brushed... did I floss? Yes, teeth are flossed. Laundry done... potentially hazardous misunderstanding with boy of interest- resolved... man, he's amazing. Stove is off. What am I forgetting?" Something was not right. Something felt very wrong. I hate that feeling, but I couldn't place it. When I woke up this morning and went to the gym to get my butt kicked by Mr. Bicepts-Larger-Than-My-Head Trainer Man, it finally came to me as I was doing my cruntches. I forgot to write a letter to my baby for his 5 month old mark. How did I forget? What does that mean, that I forgot? It makes me sick that I forgot. And, the thought process since the realization of what I forgot, has not been rational in the slightest, but it's all I have. Dearest readers, I am sitting at my desk here at work, and I am contemplating whether or not I should allow utterance of my thoughts into this blog entry. The thoughts that are crashing through my head right now feel like the confirmation of my biggest fear in life. How do I translate them into a way that will not... crush my soul? And, if I do speak them, what consequence will come of it?

I went and saw Baby Boy and his parent's at the beginning of this month. He is perfection. I was so worried. My biggest concern for this meeting was, what if I didn't know how to hold him anymore? When we were in the hospital, holding Baby Boy was completely natural, he fit perfectly into my arms... better than a puzzle piece, he fit like a piece of myself that had been missing for so long and was finally found. He belonged in my arms. What if I didn't know how to hold him anymore? That was a ridiculous fear. When Baby Boy's parent's handed him over to me on April 2, 2010, he looked from me back to them, as though he were trying to figure out what makes the earth round; and then he looked back at me and I began talking to him and smiling and then he reached his little hand out to my lips and I kissed his perfect little hand. It was natural holding him. Once again, he fit perfectly into my arms. He grunted and growled a lot as everyone talked around us- I think I participated in the dialogue- I remember talking, but I was completely enveloped in this little baby boy, this little blue-clad bundle of perfection. I immediately undressed him down to his onesie because I had to check out the chub of his legs, and dearest readers, he is all chub. I have never seen a baby with no neck... I've never seen a baby with no ankles or wrists... but, most importantly, I have never seen a baby with dimples where his elbows should be. He is the epitome of chub and there is no way for me to explain perfectly why this brings so much joy to my heart.

As a birth mother, I think it's easy to fall into the false belief that the child you placed for adoption is feeling as completely lost and helpless as you are. Questions that mortify the soul invade your mind. "What if he is searching for my voice and can't find it" because you yourself search for your child's voice in everything that is around you. "What if he can't sleep at night because he misses me and needs me" because, you yourself, haven't slept for 4 days because you miss him so bad that your heart feels like it stops beating. "What if he isn't thriving and adapting and bonding" because, as a mother who placed her child in the care of people who are more capable than you to give him everything he deserves- for as much love as that action took- you are trying to adapt in a world that is completely different from the world you used to know and you aren't thriving because you don't even know how to function anymore... and you are afraid to open your heart up to anyone else, because the last time you did that... the last time you did that, it turned into a nightmare that you are still living. And, that's the point I'm trying to make. That's why something as simple as my child having dimples where his elbows should be brings so much joy to my heart and comfort to my weary mind. He is definitely thriving and adapting and bonding. I have seen so many pictures of his siblings loving on him and his parent's cuddling him, and in all of those pictures, what I notice the most is the light in all their eyes- that light in their eyes that means that there soul is joyous- what else could that light mean, but joy?

In the honor of remaining true and honest to you, dear readers, I will utter the fears of my soul as to what I think my forgetting his five month mark means. I've been thinking a lot about it. I've had a change of thought. This morning, when everything dawned on me, I was concerned that my forgetfullness was a reflection on me as a mother- that it meant that I would be a horrible mother- who forgets her child? That's sick. And this belief pains my heart, and part of me still believes it and confirms that he's better off with someone who won't forget him. Part of me believes that it is a result of the natural disconnection that is supposed to occur in birth mothers towards their children placed through adoption and, honestly speaking, that brings about an entire new Pandora's Box that is better left unopened... but I'll open it. I knew this disconnection would occur, I never imagined it would hapen so quickly and it scares me that it has. It feels like a whole new kind of abandonment. Like, I'm abandoning my child all over again... even though, I didn't abandon him in the way that we see on the nightly news... but, to me, and to a lot of birth mother's, that is how that moment of parting between the birth mother and her child feels, like the mother is abandoning her child. And so, to forget so easily, feels like an entirely new drug of abandonment. It doesn't make sense to you, I understand that this doesn't make sense to you. I am the interpretor. I am trying to translate my feelings and fears into a way that could possibly be relatable... I'm not doing the greatest. But, now, as I've been pnodering this blog, the majority of me feels that my lapse in memory is due to the fact that I am at extreme peace with what I witnessed when I got together with Baby Boy and his parent's and I saw how much love was there between them and him. He is their son. They know what his different cries mean. They know where his tickle spots are. They know how to soothe him when he seems inconsolable. They made him laugh. He was laughing so hard. He is happy and loved. What more could any mother ever ask for her child? So, maybe my forgetfullness is a combination of all the above, I don't know. What I do know, though, is that my baby is happy and he is loved. He has so many tickle spots, and his laugh is musical, his laugh awoke my soul with it's music. My baby has dimples where his elbows should be. His smile warm me better than the sun and it's definitely brighter and reaches his eyes. I am blessed.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Bob Marley Explained it Perfectly

"Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life."

-Bob Marley

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Real Men Wear Heals and the Dedicated One's Wear Stilletos







I feel like the title of this blog is something that should be stitched on to a pillow, you know, like the wise words, " You're out with a guy... and suddenly everything he says sound brilliant. Hairy legs are your only link to reality." Very wise words, indeed. Words of wisdom such as the one just mentioned, need to be passed along from generation to generation. One thing I will definitely share with my daughters when they ask, "Mother, how you can tell if a man in genuine and loves you and is willing to dedicate his life to you?" I will respond, "Real men wear heals and the dedicated one's wear stilletos." Enough said. If a man is willing to put on a pair of high heals to prove that he supports whatever wacky thing you've gotten yourself into, then he's a good man. But, if a man is willing to strap on a pair of stilletos and parade around like a newborn giraffe to prove his devotion to you and what is important to you, well my dear readers... he is dedicated. And, as for the ones that wear wedge heals, they're learning well... but just not there yet.

You may think that I'm joking about this analogy, but I'm not. And, yes, if it would make you feel better, then we could attach some symbolism to what the high-heal, stilleto, and wedge heal mean... I will allow you to do that, dear reader of mine, if it makes you feel better. I, however, will attach no such symbolism to these various shoes.

As all of you may know, I volunteer for a rape crisis team. Today, we had our 2010 Awareness Against Sexual Assault Walk. The theme was, "Walk a Mile in Her Shoes," and while the event was open to anyone, it was specifically targeted towards men who were willing to wear women's heals and walk a mile. It was really neat. The Walk was sponsored byt the Utah County Health Department along with The Center for Women and Children in Crisis, which is who I volunteer for. We had a huge turn out, better than we had hoped for. Look for it on the news and youtube. It was neat to be a part of an effort that involved the entire community and to be there and feel the support for a safer community that was so tangible. I think that oftentimes people don't think that sexual assault is a part of their community, and there are good reasons for this belief as not many rape's are reported because they are so hard to prosecute, that, and more often than not, the victim personally knew their attacker. You would not believe the statistics, folks. Rape and Sexual Assault happen everywhere. There is no criminal-book guideline that is followed for a large or small or close-knit a community has to be in order for this type of crime to permeate it... it happens everywhere.

As various communities throughout the world, we OWE it to the victim's of these deeply personal crimes to take a stand against this type of violence and openly speak out about it so that the stigma that goes along with this type of assault is obliterated. We need to start talking about it. We need to start advocating for those who have been victimized because of it- they usually don't speak out against it because of the stigma that comes along with it- and if the victim isn't speaking out, we need to speak out for the victim. You can't even begin to imagine the type of trauma that is associated with this type of crime. Here is a staggering fact about rape. Rape is so traumatic for the victim involved, that the human brain CAN NOT even comprehend the event on it's own. Think about that for a second. Let those words sink in. Rape is so traumatic for the victim involved, that the human brain CAN NOT even comprehend the event on it's own. What that means, exactly, is a person who is brutally attacked in such a personal way, such as rape, cannot make sense of the trauma on their own... they cannot heal the emotional hurt that accompanies rape on their own. Now, imagine that this victim lives in a community that doesn't "talk about rape or make a public stand angainst sexual assault because sexual assault and rape are not a part of their community- those things don't happen where they live." Imagine being in a community where you are a victim and no one would believe you, and try imagining how you would make it through the trauma that was done to you.

Perhaps I should say it in a way that will resound with more people. Communities used to not have D.A.R.E programs that spoke out against the use of drugs and alcohol because, "Kids don't need to be taught to not use drugs and alcohol because in our community, kids don't drink or do drugs." Is that true? They don't call Utah County "Happy Valley" because we are the happiest people on the planet... there's a lot of meth in this valley. My point is, the logic behind not taking a stand against evil because it doesn't exist, doesn't work. It doesn't work.

I didn't want to go to the Walk today. I was too tired and I didn't want to get out of bed this morning at 6:30 to get ready. I am so glad I went, though. To be surrounded by men who were not embarassed to take a stand against sexual assault, and who even went beyond what they were asked to do and really made a spectacle of themselves to be noticed so that when people asked them why there were so many guys wearing dresses and women's heals walking around the mall, they could answer, "Because, in the time it took you to brush your teeth this morning, someone in America was raped, and I'm walking in women's heals and dress, because I am disgusted that that happened to someone and I don't want rape to be a part of my community"- to be a part of that, was well worth getting out of bed at 6:30, after only 3 hours of sleep. I took some pictures. I'll post them. I hope you enjoy.

9 Years

His eyes sparkled when he laughed, he gave the best hugs I've ever known, we had the deepest conversations imaginable to a 12 and 15 year old, he was a rock star when it came to midnight basketball, he was dependable and loyal, and he was my best friend. Today he has been gone for 9 years and I miss him. Jordan, I know you know how much I miss you and I will never forget you. I love you, my dear best friend.

Today marks the nine year death-day of my adolescent friend Jordan. He killed himself because he found this world to be too dark of a place to reside in and he missed his heavenly home too much to prolong his time here. He was beautiful in every way and cared for the happiness of others above his own. He always thought of everyone before himself and stood up to those who belittled the weak and was a hero to those that were too scared to stand up for themselves. He accepted you regardless of who you were and who other's thought you to be. He loved passionately and loyally. He taught me about life and love and what's most important. He had a passion for music and art that was brilliant beyond his years and he loved to have deep, meaningful discussions. He found humor in the odd and had the greatest sense of humor I've ever experienced. Jordan could calm those in distress simply by reaching out to touch them... all it took was the touch of his hand, or the embrace of his arms- he gave the best hugs- and you felt safe and whole and loved. He made you feel important and loved because his ability to love was endless.

When my Grandma L died, it affected me real bad. I didn't get to see her before she went and so I was struggling. Jordan told me something that I will never forget. He said, "Other Mother, you believe in eternity, right?" I answered in the affirmative, to which he said, "And when one dies and moves in to Eternity, they become immortal, correct?" Again, I answered in the affirmative. He then asked, "How does one become immortal?" I looked at him confused and I responded, "By dying, Jordan. You just answered that question yourself." And he smiled his brilliant playful and loving smile and he said, "Yeah, I know. But there's another way someone becomes immortal, Other Mother." At this point I was really confused. I have ADHD and I was thinking, "Did I miss the entire first half of this conversation?" It just wasn't adding up in my head what he was trying to tell me. He laughed at the confused expression on my face... I can barely hear his laughter in my head right now- it was joy, his laugh was the sound of joy, you know that sound, that sound that fills your heart with joy- and he kept laughing and his smile reached his eyes. Then he grabbed my hand and he looked me in the eyes and he said very seriously, "Your grandmother is immortal which means you will be with her again, but what's more important than that, is you can still be with her here. She lives on in your memory. That's the other way people become immortal, they live on in the memories of the loved ones they leave behind." Wise kid, right? He was only 15 years old when he said that. He then continued on and said, "One day, when I am dead Other Mother, I will become immortal through your memmory, so be sure to always remember me." My 12 year old mind couldn't comprehend then what it was that he was suggesting... I understand it now. And, I wish so badly that I would have realized it then so that I could put my arms around him and tell him that he belongs here and that the world is dark and scary and we are far from home, but for right now, we are meant to be here. I would tell him that I love him and that he is my best friend, but mostly I would hold him until he felt as safe as I did when he would hold me when I was scared. But, that didn't happen, so all I am able to do is tell him every night in my heart that I will never forget him and that he lives on eternally in my memory. And every night until I am gone, I will continue to tell him this.

Jordan, I love you, you were my best friend and I will never forget you. Your memory will live on through me and my written word. I love you and I miss you, and your daughter has your smile, she's 9 now and she has your smile. Good night, my dear, best friend. Sleep well, Jordan.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Chase the Wind

Chase the wind,
Chase him if you dare,
But, take care child,
To not fall from the heights
You feel when
He surrounds you-
A drop from that high will
Leave you
Crawling and
Weighed down by Life's
New found cares. They aren't new,
They've been there all along,
But you were
Distracted by the
Wind's song.
Chase the wind,
Chase him if you dare- just
Remember that when he's gone
Each move you make
Will feel eternally long and
Instead of flying, you will feel as though
You are dying while
Dreaming of flying.
Child,
You weren't meant to fly-
To fly with the wind
Isn't flying, it's
Lying, but
You choose to
Live the lie because
You feel alive when
He brushes your cheek. And so,
You give in
To the wind and
He carries you along
For a time as you
Frantically grasp to the
Nothing that supports you-
This time more aware
Of the Fall you know
Will come
And still you hold on
And the wind surrounds you
And his force fills you-
It alarms you.
He's pulling you and
Pushing you in
Too many directions to count,
And it's always your fault that
You can't get the steps right, but
Child,
There is no way to
Master his dance,
It's all based on nothing more
Than calculated chance.
He whips your soul and is in
Complete control-
Control that you gave him
When you gave in to him-
He tears at your
Heart and
Exposes your fears and
Carries you over the
Ledge where you fall into the
Place where Time doesn't exist and
There
is Where
He leaves you
Until he decides to come again.
Child, it's because
He's the wind
And will not be contained-
No matter how much you love him,
You cannot capture the wind. So,
Chase the wind,
Chase him if you dare,
Only be sure to
Take care.

Copyright Other Mother

Friday, April 2, 2010

Dear Sweetheart,

Dear Sweetheart,

I saw you today. Your parents, along with myself and my mother, all got together to see each other. It was the first time I've seen you since the hospital. You are more perfect than I could ever have imagined. You are so round! You really don't have a neck, or ankles... or wrists for that matter. Your thighs are squishy and round and your eyes are the brightest beauty I have ever seen. I was worried that I wouldn't know how to hold you anymore, but you still fit perfectly in my arms like we are the only pieces of a puzzle. You have the same crazy capillari in your right eyelid like I do, I was happy to see that. You have the same birth mark as I do and your laugh is... the music of my soul- my soul smiled at the sound of your laugh, it awoke at the sound of your laugh. Your cry completely captured my senses as it did the last time I heard it, when we were in the hospital. You are smiling now and your smile is the manifestation of joy... your smile reaches your eyes, it's breathtaking. I am in awe of you. You are happy and safe and, sweetheart, there are so many people who love you. What more could any mother hope for her child. You have everything I've ever wanted for you... and that makes me happy. I love you, Baby Boy. You are my life.

Love,

your birth mother