Dear Sweetheart,

Hopeful Adoptive Family: Walker Family Spotlight

2012-02-14T15:45:00.000-08:00

**How did you meetyour spouse? How long did you both datebefore you decided to get married? Howlong have you been married?**

Steve and I met online actually! I was on love@aol.com(now match.com) and he was one of my "pics" of the week. My firstthought when I saw his face was, "He has cheeks like mine!" I"winked" at him to let him know I thought he was cute. His profileheadline was, "Are you looking for your prince?" He had me as his"pic of the week" too and had saved me under his "hot" list(lol). We emailed for about three weeks and then he called me (I was about toget my car washed and had like five minutes to talk). We had our first date onMarch 6, 2004 and it was an instant connection.

We wanted to start off as church buddies, since he wasn'tsure if he was ready for a relationship. Our friendship progressed to a deeperconnection and we felt like we had known each other for years, when it was onlya month!

Our first date started with going to mass, then we wentback to his apartment and made dinner together and then we looked throughpictures and videos of his friends and family. It was the greatest date of mylife.

We have been inseparable since March of 2004 untilpresent. Steve asked me to marry him on September 17, 2005 while we werecamping with some friends. We got married in the Bahamas (barefoot on thebeach) on July 8, 2006. This past July we celebrated five amazing yearstogether.

**What was the firstthing you really came to appreciate about your spouse and why was thatquality/characteristic important to you [if the ladies of the couple areanswering this, then grab your husband's and have them answer it for you aswell ;) ]?**

I appreciate so much about Steve, it's hard to pick justone. If I did have to pick one quality/characteristic that I value most, it'dbe his ability and willingness to communicate. I feel very strongly aboutcommunication being the key to all successful relationships. Steve is open,honest, and values our relationship. We don't fight. We might have adisagreement, but we always talk it out and in the end, we can agree todisagree, but we never fight. We both feel that what we have is too importantand we don't sweat the small stuff.

Steve says that he appreciates my humor and ability tolaugh at things. He likes that I don't take things too seriously, I'mlow-maintenance, and I'm fun to be around.

**Do you have anycurrent family traditions that you celebrate as a family? If so, how did these traditions begin?**

We celebrate Gus's Adoption Day (April 15) every year, asit's a very special day for us as a family. Last year we celebrated by going toa pottery place and we painted a platter and put our handprints on it. It'sbeautiful. Not sure what we'll do this year, but it'll be special and somethingwe do together as a family (and just us).

We also go up to Michigan twice a year (the months alwayschange). We go up to see my side of our family, and Gus's side of our family.We're hoping to start a tradition this year, of going up and doing a campingtrip with all of my side of our family (my brothers and their families, and myparents). It should be really fun for Gus to spend great time with his cousins,aunts, uncles, and grandparents.

**If you currentlyhave children, how many children do you have right? Are they biological? Are they adopted?**

We have one son, Gus. He was born on May 11, 2010 andhe's adopted. He's the love of my life and the answer to so many prayers. He'sspecial for so many reasons and is loved by all who meet him. He's got adazzling personality and is just completely delightful to be around. Hebrightens each day and brings a smile to my face just thinking about him.

**If not alreadyexplained, how did you come to the decision to adopt?**

I always wanted to adopt. My mom was in an orphanage fora brief time as a child and it always perplexed me as to how she (being asamazing and wonderful as she is) could be looked over by anyone. So, it wasalways something I wanted to do when I was older.

When Steve and I got married and started trying to starta family, we were faced with four years of agony. I never stressed too muchabout it because I knew adoption was something I wanted to do anyway, but I hadwanted to have biological children first and adopt second. God had a differentplan.

One day after school, my room mom came to see how I was.She and I got to talking and she asked about my family and if I had any kids. Ishared with her our struggle with infertility and she shared that she and herhusband had adopted their youngest daughter. She gave me the name of her agencyand I shared her info with Steve while we were celebrating our 3rd anniversaryat the beach.

Steve wasn't ready to start the process until thatOctober. It took him three months of praying and thinking about it before hewas ready. When he was ready we started the paperwork.

**How has yourexperience in the world of adoption mirrored or changed your expectation ofadoption?**

I didn't really know what to expect. We were told that wewouldn't be able to adopt a healthy child and to expect a child born addictedto something. We were told that we'd probably not be adopting a Caucasian childand to be prepared and ready for an interracial adoption. We were told thatbirth fathers are not in the picture ever... So be prepared to only deal withthe birth mother.

Everything that we were told was the opposite. Our son isCaucasian (blonde hair and blue eyed), he was born to a mother who never usedany drugs and didn't drink while pregnant. Our son has a birth mother andfather (who are still together) and they BOTH love him and are active in hislife.

I don't know if we're living the exception to the rule,but we have an incredible open adoption and hope to have something as great forthe second time around.

**If you currentlyhave children who are adopted, what is your current relationship with thebirth-mothers/birth-families of your children?**

Because we live in another state from them, we don't seethem as much as we'd like. That being said, we don't see our own families asmuch as we'd like, and we try to keep ALL sides of our family as connected tous as possible.

I think we're pretty lucky to have them as part of ourfamily. Both sides of Gus's side of our family have welcomed us into theirfamily, and genuinely care about us. We genuinely care about them as well.

When we head to MI, we see my side of our family, andGus's side of our family. We include them in all aspects of our life.

Gus has a Facebook page and it's for all sides of hisfamily. My side, Steve's side, and his biological side. They get to seepictures at the same time as everyone else.

I send weekly texts with pictures to everyone, we sendpresents and pictures, and they're no less important to us than our ownparents. They send us gifts too and it's very sweet.

We feel so fortunate to have so many people love our son.He will never have to wonder where he comes from, what roots he has, or doubtif anyone loves him.

**If you currentlyhave children who are adopted, do you have any traditions that theirbirth-mother's share in on? If so, whatare they? (eg., my adoptive couple givesme an ornament every year with a picture of Baby Boy in it, and I love it andappreciate it so much).**

We try to make it to MI each year around his birthday sothat we can celebrate his birth together (all of us) as a complete family. Hegot to sit on his birth mom's lap and blow out his candle last year and openpresents while sitting on her lap. It was the most amazing day.

I send her something each year for Birth Mother's Day(the Saturday before Mother's Day Sunday).

Each year, just after his birthday, I make a video ofpictures of Gus throughout the year. I always send her (and his birth father) acopy so they can see him change before their eyes (since they're not here tosee it in person).

We send Christmas gifts. Each year I do something withhis hand/foot prints and send it to them.

**How do you defineopen adoption? What is open adoption toyou?**

Open adoption is when everything is out in the open.There's nothing hidden and everyone is fully aware of the intentions,expectations, and realities of adoption. It's face-to-face visits, pictures,cards, letters, text messages, and correspondence that's not done through afacilitator.

To me, open adoption is everything. It's giving my childtheir future and their past all in one. It's making sure that when questionsarise, we have a way to get answers. It's for the child COMPLETELY. It might behard, and often it is, but ultimately, it's for the benefit of the childinvolved-- because THEY didn't ask to be born, and THEY didn't ask to beadopted. They deserve to have the best of all worlds... One where they knowtheir story, they understand it, and they appreciate the choice their birthparents made for them to have the life that they have.

Anything but open adoption is cruel (in my opinion). Ithink there are circumstances where it's in the best interest of the child tonot have a connection to their birth family, but it's still cruel to deny themthe ability to know where they come from. It's cruel to deny the extendedfamily the right to know the child that their family member decided to placefor adoption.

With open adoption, everyone wins. Everyone.

**What would yourideal relationship with "your" birth-mother be, pre-placement? (Would you like to attend Dr. appointmentswith her, have her to Sunday dinners, get together on a monthly basis for amovie, &etc? How involved would you,ideally, like to be involved, &etc.)**

We're talking ideal... So in my ideal world, I'd love toattend appointments, be there when the baby is born, and have this greatrelationship. However, it's not ever going to happen. I'd be so afraid to get"sucked in" and committed and excited to be a mom again, and I'dworry that it'd all be gone with a change of mind. I'd be afraid that the birthmother would decide to parent and I'd be devastated that I invested so muchhope in the relationship.

I almost feel like birth mothers should not"match" with a family until after the baby is born, and she's 100000%certain that placement is what she wants to do.

But in an ideal world, I'd love a birth mom to trust us,open her life to us, and connect with us. I'd love to have a birth mom shareher story with us and continue with it after the baby is born. I'd love to haveher be the intricate part of our family that she should be.

**If you alreadyhave adopted children, in your experience, what part of the adoption process(pre-placement, placement, post-placement) have you found to be the mostimportant to the building of the relationship between you and the birth-mother?**

We didn't find out about Gus until May 3, 2010. We hadexactly one week from the time that we were "matched" with his birthfamily, to when he was born. In that time, we never talked to his birth mom ordad. We only talked to her aunt (she worked with my cousin and the two of thembrought us together). It was so scary to not have any details worked out, tonot know what she was thinking/feeling. I was so worried that she was going tochange her mind, I didn't allow myself to get attached.

I think post-placement has been where the most growth hastaken place with us and his birth mother and father (more so with his birthmom). We are Facebook friends with her and share pictures and she comments onthem. She's opened up more and more as more time has gone by and it's been sucha blessing.

She just sent us a package with a Valentine's Day cardfor our family, two stuffed frogs for Gus, and then she had one of her friends(he's in art school) hand draw a picture of our family. She had it framed andsent it to us. It was so unexpected and thoughtful. Our relationship has come along way and it's only getting better and better.

**For any youngwoman considering placing her child for adoption, and who is reading this rightnow, what do you want to say to her?**

It's so important that you follow your instincts and yourheart. Don't do anything that you're not 100% comfortable doing. Deciding toplace your child for adoption is the most agonizing decision you'll ever haveto make, don't go into it lightly. Take the time to really determine what'smost important to you and find what you think is the best possible connectionwith a family.

Don't let anyone pressure you into adoption. It'ssomething that you'll always regret if you're not 100% certain. If you havedoubts or hesitations, don't enter into something that will affect everyoneinvolved. Adoption isn't for everyone, but neither is parenting.

You really need to make a list of pros and cons and trustyourself. If you decide that adoption is the right choice for your baby, gointo it with an open heart, and really allow yourself to find the right peopleto raise your baby. Find people who will include you in your child's life. Beup front and honest, and speak your wishes.

Make sure that the family that you choose, values YOU,and isn't just saying what they think you want to hear. When you find the rightfamily, you'll know it.

No matter what decision you make, you have to think aboutwhat's the best thing for your baby. I think OPEN adoption is the best of bothworlds, but it's not for everyone. Good luck with your decision and keep anopen mind. There are thousands of people looking to adopt an infant... Only oneof them will be the right match for you. Decide what you'd ideally want yourbaby to have, and if you can't give them what they deserve, find a family whocan.

Lastly, if you decide to place your baby for adoption, bePROUD of yourself. Don't beat yourself up, or think anything negative aboutyourself. You are ALWAYS going to be that baby's mom and whether or not yourraise them, you will always be a significant part of the person that theybecome. The decision to place them into the arms of another person, is the mostselfless thing that you can do. To decide that you cannot give your baby whatyou think they deserve, is the ultimate sacrifice. You should hold your headhigh and know that you're special, you're important, and you matter to thatbaby.

**Do you have a blogthat you would like to share with those reading this today? If so, what is the address of your blog?**

We do! We have an adoption blog and we're onhopingtoadopt.org and have a profile on there as well.

Here We Go Again (Our adoption blog):http://walkersadopt.blogspot.com/

Hoping to Adopt (Our profile page):http://www.hopingtoadopt.org/index.php/family/letters/448

Thank you!!!
Cathy

[Untitled]

2012-02-13T14:42:00.000-08:00

[Untitled]

Some things are best said in a language

Native to breath;

They connect better with the heart.

Your language is different than mine.

You say what you mean-

Te he dolido tanto,

Se esto.

He hecho dano nosotros,

Lo siento.

I say what I feel-

Tu mi has dolido tambien-

Dolemos.

I don’t know how to talk about things anymore.

My truth was lost in the context of feeling and

Explaining only made things worse

Because they explained away your hurt,

I’m sorry.

Estoy triste que estamos separados.

When we fight, language becomes broken,

But I know

Tu mi necesitas como le necesito.

Se esto.

I know that feelings are important,

And relevance is in our words,

And words are truth;

Truth is reality-

Yo se creo en nosotros todavia.

Puedo aprender a perdonarle.

Lo siento.

Please forgive me. With you,

I’d start again,

From the beginning,

I’d start again,

With you.

Nuestras almas so companeras eternas.

To you, hope- I

Hope the meaning of my heart reaches

You.

Veulva a mi.

Comment Authorization

2012-02-13T12:50:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone,

I have noticed some spam comments on my blog; meaning, generalized random comments that have nothing to do with anything that act simply as a link to a sales scheme. Having said this, I am now going to set comments to be previewed and authorized by me before they are posted on my blog. I never wanted to have to do this because I want you all to be able to express yourselves freely on this blog and without hindrance of a delayed comment.

I don't want trashy sales schemes to dilute the purity of what this blog is about, which is why I'm changing to authorized comments.

Please don't let this hinder you from commenting freely and openly. Please understand that I love and appreciate your comments so much; you all have just as much to do with where I am today, as I do. I learn from your perspective and it is important to me, so please don't stop commenting. Thank you for your support and continued input.

Most Sincerely,
Other Mother

Hopeful Adoptive Family: Prowse Family Spotlight

2012-02-02T09:24:00.000-08:00

http://prowsehouseadopts.blogspot.com/

When I was 12 years old, I moved to a new city. I was nervous to be in new surroundings and anxious that I wouldn't make very many friends. Not much later after I first moved in, I met Brinn. My first thoughts were of intimidation because she was so pretty and I felt so awkward.. It didn't take me much time to realize how kind-hearted and accepting she was. She had a big impact on me through my adolescent years because she always had a kind word to say to everyone she came in contact with. She was a talented soccer player and she was soft-spoken and eloquent in everything else she undertook. She had the funniest personality and the sweetest laugh and she was always up for a good laugh. After graduation, as everyone usually does, our entire graduating class went our separate ways to conquer the world in our own special way, and Brinn was one of the friends I lost contact with. Just recently we found each other on Facebook (gotta love The Facebook) and it's been just as easy as I remember to talk with her and catch up on the time since we graduated, so that it feels like we've always been in contact with each other.

Brinn has a beautiful family and they are talented people. They are amazing parents and are wanting to grow their family. Take some time to view their blog (above link) and share it with everyone you know so that we can help get the word out about these amazing people. Share it with everyone you know, because you never know who is going to find a birthmother who is looking for a family for her little baby. Maybe that birthmother is you; if it is, check out this family. They are wonderful people and they value the sacredness of a birthmother.

Adoptive Family Spotlights

2012-02-02T09:14:00.000-08:00

Hello dear readers,

I would like to start doing spotlights for hopeful families wanting to adopt. I don't believe I have a huge presence in the world of adoptive families, but anyone who reads this blog, if you know of anyone who is in the process of adoption who wants to get their blogs and information out there; send them to my blog, let them look around a bit and decide if they want to be spotlighted and then comment on my most recent post with your e-mail address and I will send you my contact info and we can go from there. I just came across an old friend who is in the process of adopting and I am so excited for her family. Be sure to read my next post because I am going to spotlight this beautiful woman and her gorgeous and talented family. Thank you all for your loyal support.

Sincerely,
Other Mother

Open Adoption Roundtable #34

2012-02-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/

Production, Not Reproduction is an awesome blog all about the world of adoption (the link to this blog is above). The blog owner issues certain prompts for anyone who is involved in the world of adoption to answer. She just issued a prompt, which is below in pink:

It is likely that we've all had that experience at some time: someone asking us to speak to the choices or feelings of others in our adoption constellation. Perhaps it is someone asking a first parent how their child feels about being in an open adoption. Or someone asking an adoptee why their adoptive parents chose to adopt. You get the idea.

How do you handle such questions when they are asked of you? How would you want the other parties in your open adoption to handle those questions when they are about you?

I've been asked before, how my child will feel about the fact that I placed him for an open adoption. I thought this was an interesting question. The way the person asked it was with a tone of incredulousness... like I hadn't thought endlessly about this very question over the entire course of my pregnancy leading up to placement, and then endlessly after placement.

I thanked this person for their question and let them know that I love talking about open adoption, and I encouraged them to ask all the questions they want to ask me. I then asked this person what they thought open adoption meant. You'd be surprised how many weird answers I've gotten back. This person told me, "Open Adoption is when the biological mother and adoptive parents co-parent the child... kind of like a divorce, but it's a divorce between the birth mother and the child." I will let you know that I took great care not to laugh at this person... and then I knew exactly what I was dealing with; someone who was sorely misinformed.

I kindly let this person know that their understanding of open adoption was not correct and then I let them know what open adoption actually means. I let them know that open adoption is "open" in the sense that there is communication between the birth mother and the adoptive parents that regards the child in common. This communication can involve anything from weekly updates, to pictures received on a monthly basis; and all the arrangements and expectations regarding the "openness" of the adoption are all communicated and arranged before the placement occurs. I let them know that the level of openness depends entirely on the people involved and that it is a case by case scenario. I let them know that open adoption is not co-parenting; that once the birth mother signs over her rights, that the adoption is considered final after a period of, no less than 24 hours after the papers are signed. I let them know that different states have different laws regarding the finalization of the adoption, and so I'm only speaking from the understanding of the state of Utah's laws. I let them know that my son's adoptive parents are amazing people who send me pictures and major developmental updates regarding our son. I let this person know that I fully and completely recognize my son's parents as his parent's and all that comes along with that term. I let this person know that Adoption, regardless of how open it is or is not, is nothing like Divorce and that I know this because I am a birth mother and I've been through the process, but also that I see divorce every single day in my job... and the two are completely different.

I also told this person that I doubt my child thinks about it at all, seeming as he was only 1 years old at the time I was asked this question. I continued by letting this person know that my child's adoptive parents were wonderful people and that they will let him know from the get-go that he is adopted, and they will discuss it openly in their household because adoption is nothing to be ashamed of. I told this person that my child will know- through his parents- how incredibly loved he is by more people than he'll possibly ever know, and some of whom he can meet one day if he decided he wants to meet them, and that he is lucky to have 2 mommies and 5 sets of grandparents, all whom recognize the beauty of his life and his presence in their lives. I let this person know that I believe that my child will connect deeply with his parents because he will know how completely he was wanted by them and how deeply his parents longed for him for so long, but that he was to come to them through a different woman because they couldn't get him "here" on their own; they chose him... I chose them, and they accepted him, therefore "choosing" him. I think that's pretty special and I have no fears in my mind whatsoever that he won't develop and grow into an amazing, compassionate, respectful, passionate, and loving man one day; a man who is aware of how important he is in the lives of those who are blessed to know him.

I had quite an extensive conversation with this person, and they had a lot of questions for me and I appreciated their questions and they appreciated my answers. I love talking about Open Adoption and what it is and what it definitely is not. What I've found is that people out there don't have a lot of knowledge about this topic. For how "in the headlines" adoption and open adoption are becoming, people are oftentimes left to their own devices to define what these two things mean to them. I find that majority of my conversations about open adoption are more based in educating a person about the world of adoption. I don't take offense to people's inaccuracies because I see it as an opportunity to show excitement about the beauty of open adoption. I've found that people will mirror your emotions in regards to this topic. If you act closed off and defensive when you talk about open adoption, then the person you are talking to won't want to know more and they won't want to ask more questions, as serious education is needed on this topic. But, if you are excited about telling your story, even if it's still hard to talk about... and you let that person see how close to your heart your story is... that's infectious; they'll feel it to and they will share in that moment with you and it is profound for them. I've found that the more excited I am about explaining open adoption and the more I share my story with people and let them participate in my emotions of it... they ask more and more questions and connection is made. They'll remember that when they find themselves, again, faced with a birth mother, or a friend who is trying to adopt.

Borders

2012-01-30T14:01:00.000-08:00

The Great Wall of China

The Berlin Wall

U.S.-Mexico Border Wall

I just got done reading this book for my Contemporary American Literature class. It was beautiful. It is called Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza by Gloria Anzaldua. There is no possible way to categorize this book into one specific genre. Linguistically, Anzaldua switches between Spanish and English... sometimes mid-sentence. I don't speak Spanish and so it's been an interesting read for me to have to take an extra step to look up the translations. Beyond the linguistics of the book, the matter of form vs. content make this book impossible to categorize into one genre. This book is fictional, historical, personal narrative, borders on the fantastical, it is poetic, manifesto in nature... and even political treatise. I've never read a more beautiful body of text.Parts of it were difficult to read, I won't lie, and I'm not talking about the Spanish pieces. This entire book explores the concept of borders; specifically racial borders. Beyond that, this book discusses self-created borders that keep us from becoming something beyond what we believe ourselves to be. It explores the borders of gender. A lot of this book explores concepts outside of my comfort range, but I am happy to have read it all the same. It got me thinking of the borders within my own life.

Have you ever been talking to someone you love and somehow what you've said was lost in an emotional translation that you didn't even know was there until after the fact? What you were saying to this person was lost because of what they felt and so they understood something completely "contrary" to what you were saying. I quoted "contrary" because in this sense it isn't a convoluted understanding this person came to, because their reality caused them to understand something underneath what you were trying to say. And you can't fault this person for understanding something completely different because... you weren't clear enough in what you were saying. That's how I felt when I read the Spanish text of this book. The way Anzaldua placed the Spanish text was brilliant. She started off with a sentence here and there, a sentence in Spanish that repeated the previous English sentence. But as the story unraveled... as the history developed, she would "interrupt" English text with entire paragraphs of Spanish text... and she would "interrupt" at a point in the text where, as a reader, you were completely entranced in the story. For someone who does not speak Spanish, like myself, you became confused and panicked to understand what she was saying. And it would take time to find a translation that made any sense at all.

It made me think about arguments and the borders that are built up between those who are arguing. The borders are built up because of a lot of different reasons: fear of being hurt, fear of being ridiculed, because of pride, and even because you are just done hearing what the other person has to say. But what do borders do? You may feel like they are keeping the other person out, but really... they are locking you inside. They are locking you inside of anger and fear. It's made me think of the borders I've put up in my life and how I've justified them. It makes me think of the borders that entire families can build... and the destruction that comes from them. In the book, Anzaldua writes about the US-Mexican Border and the wall that was built there.

She says, "Wind tugging at my sleeve feet sinking into the sand I stand at the edge where earth touches ocean where the two overlap a gentle coming together at other times and places a violent crash... I walk through the hole in the fence to the other side. Under my fingers I feel the gritty wire rusted by 139 years of the salty breath of the sea. Beneath the iron sky Mexican children kick their soccer ball across, run after it, entering the U.S... 1,950 mile-long open wound dividing a pueblo, a culture, running down the length of my body, staking fence rods in my flesh, splits me splits me me raja me raja This is my home this thin edge of barbwire."

The ocean has no border. The soul has no border. You cannot contain the ocean and you cannot contain your soul. You can draw lines on a map and say "this ocean is ours, and that is yours", you can push down your feelings and pretend they aren't there and you can bite your tongue and not stick up for yourself... and you can fight to push someone away and never forgive them or let them forgive you and you can build your false sense of protection... but it will explode eventually. The idea that the ocean can be contained in dotted lines on a map is silly... as is the idea that you can pretend your feelings away.

The borders we create in ourselves become us and the longer they are there, the deeper they become and it changes and becomes unaffected and unchanged and more powerful. As children, we are un-inhibited. The love of a child is endless and eternally forgiving, but it won't always be that way. Sometime between childhood and adulthood, we learn to build borders. We may think we build them to protect ourselves, but with time, our borders become cages and they hurt... they split you, they crush you, and if you let that become you then you close yourself off to a world of possibility.Reclaim yourself. Take ownership of who you are and tear down the borders within. Only then can you exceed anyone's expectations.

Acceptance is Yellow Nourishment (WARNING: Long Post)

2012-01-27T13:12:00.000-08:00

There is something that has been on my mind lately and it all feels very deja vu-ish, so if I've already written about this, however extensively, I apologize. This is weird... I feel the need to censor myself all of a sudden. I haven't felt that for a long time, I have no idea where it came from.

Anyway.I just wanted to share something I was thinking about the other night. I was laying in bed; as you can tell by now, majority of my nuggets of beauty come to me when I'm in bed.

I'm almost 27 years old. In one week and 2 days, I will be 27 years old. I remember being 11 years old and being prompted by an adult to write down my life goals in 5 year terms. I had absolutely no perspective, haha. I didn't understand life as a series of stages... and what I wanted to complete by whatever age. All I knew is that I wanted a family. I wanted to be a young mother... not maturity-young, but bodily-young because I wanted to experience as much of this world as possible with my children. I wanted to be a younger grandmother because I wanted to experience the joy of my grandchildren... I wanted to be an active figure in the lives of my children and grandchildren. I really hoped to be a great-grandmother. I remember my friends were horrified at the idea of living to be over the age of 90... they just thought that would be miserable. Me, I wanted to see as much of history as I could and I wanted to experience it with my posterity.

I never had the goal to complete my college education by a specific age, or to begin my career at another age... I never set a time for marriage, or for family; I just hoped that I would be blessed to joy in them all for a really long time. I had friends who planned every detail of their life. When they would meet the "man of their dreams", when they would do "everything" there was in life to do... and for some of them, they've achieved their goals, but they aren't joyful... they don't like the men they married. For others, none of their goals came to be, they were the ones who planned to study abroad and then live in Europe and work for major corporations and write brilliant novels on the sides... they are the ones who are married with children and they are happy and it's beautiful to watch them in their family units.

What is the point of this post? I guess I've been feeling rather nostalgic lately. I think Nostalgia is a good thing, though if left to its own devices, it can turn into a sickening thing. Where am I today? Where have my "life-goals" led me, or not lead me to, for that matter? I am a mother, I'm an "other" kind of mother, but I'm a mother all the same. And I do take great joy in the child of my heart. He is everything I ever envisioned joy to be. I'm not married. I thought I knew what love was when I met Baby Daddy... and I was sorely wrong. I have met true love and he was/is... everything I ever hoped for in a companion. As an 11 year old girl where the world still seemed possible to navigate, I didn't anticipate my life going this way. No one ever anticipates that their future will involve placing a child for adoption. No one ever anticipates that "love" would be so hard to recognize. No 11 year old anticipates... having to start over so many times in one lifetime.

I was thinking about all of this the other night and I think, it would be quite easy to be angry about everything. Is it sad? Yes, it is. Is it frustrating? Absolutely. Is it maddening? Fur sure. Does it make life more difficult. It would be silly to say no. Where is Joy? In all of this, there is joy. In a way, I've found exactly what I hoped I'd find as an 11 year old girl, I just didn't expect joy to be dressed the way she's presented herself in my life. The only thing I wanted for my future was joy, and I knew I would find it in my family... my own children and husband... and I will find that. The joy that I've found to this point looks slightly different, but she's still been found.

The thought that came to my mind the other night as I thought on all of this was, "The greatest joys in life are compassion, endearment, originality, friendship, and acknowledgement of the past; however very painful it might have been. You are no longer there; acknowlege this. Live your life where everything, even the impossible, brings you great pleasure. This is true nourishment." I would like to replace the word pleasure with joy.

I am not afraid of the impossible. I do not run from the difficult. I am not afraid of the difficult. I have joy. My life has taught me compassion. Compassion: the sympathetic awareness of another's distress combined with the desire to alleviate it. There is joy in this because I know that all the difficulty that I've experienced has taught me to be compassionate and I am joyful in this knowledge.

Endearment is the most beautiful form of love I think that exists. Endearment: a word or act that expresses affection. Sometimes the only thing that makes the difficult bearable is a hug, the touch of someone's hand holding your's to show a sacred form of solidarity that they are with you in that moment when you need someone's compassion the most. Endearment says what no words can. I'm not afraid to comfort and show love. I used to think I was, but recent memory has shown me the exact opposite.

Originality... this one is harder to express and explain. I don't have any remorse or regret for how I've lived my life. The only things I would have changed is that the father of my son would have been a different man... a specific man I know, and that he and I would have been in a place where we could have raised our son together. I don't regret the life of my son. Given the circumstances that surrounded his birth, I don't regret that his parents are who they are. They love him like I love him and I couldn't ask for anyone better. I created life. I created a family in a different way than I ever anticipated doing so. I'm a unique kind of mother and I don't regret that. I live life through experience... not through the example of another person's life experience. I see color where others see only black and white. There is no such thing as "bad" to me, only life. Life experiences are not so easily termed as "bad" or "good". People are not so easily categorized as "bad" or "good"... and I am joyful that my life experiences have taught me that everyone deserves love, no matter how different they are from me. That may not seem like such an original concept to you, but where I come from... it's amazing how closed-minded people can be, and I say that with as much respect as can possibly be applied to that sentiment.

Friendship: the quality of being friendly; not hostile; showing kindly interest or goodwill. It's easy to be friends with someone. It's easy to be an ally when the person you are friendly towards is similar to you. It isn't easy to show friendship towards someone who has hurt you or someone you love... I'm not perfect in this. This is definitely one I need to work on, but I have been shown this kind of kindness and I'm grateful to the person who has extended their friendship towards me when, it would seem to many around them, that their "loyalties" could easily be devoted elsewhere. I hope to one day achieve this brand of kindness. Again, I'm working on it. This kind of loyal compassion brings a joy that was unrecognizable before. It's truly beautiful.

Acknowledgement. This one is self-explanatory. It takes pondering and recognition of the difficult to come to terms with the good that is there. It may be hidden extremely well, but there truly is good in all the difficult that comes. I'm grateful for my life and how it's played out. I'm grateful for the hardships I'e experienced because it's given me perspective.

Live. Definition: to continue alive; to have a life rich in experience. "To continue alive", how beautiful is that. I'm finding that there is poetry in simple statements. To continue through difficulty, not with the sense of surviving, but with the goal to live the experience. To not be afraid of the moment of trial, but to meet it and welcome it and live it. To experience experience. To not hide from the possibility of hurt, and to open yourself up again to the potential of hurt. To be grateful that you can feel. To be grateful that you are affected.

Nourishment: the state of being nourished. I'm going to take creative liberties with this one. I'd like you to, instead, think of emotional nourishment in regards to this word. I think that nourishment comes from when you no longer view a situation as, "what was done to me," but rather, "what I now know having experience [insert situation]". This is a hard one and one I'm not very good at... yet. The first step in doing this is to recognize the shift of thought. Life happens... fast. It comes at you out of nowhere, you will be going along comfortably and then something completely unexpectedly rocks your world. Nourishment does not come from turning those moments into the purpose of your life. Nourishment comes from letting them happen and continuing to live through them and after their quake. It's hard. I've only recently caught on to this... and I know where I can apply the knowledge to... it's just learning to let go of the hurt that is hard. And that's the point, there isn't anything productive about hurt. There isn't anything nourishing about hurt. Hurt is cancer. Nourishment is acceptance.

Acceptance is yellow... it is balance.

Meditative Musings

2012-01-19T13:58:00.001-08:00

I was meditating the other day and, I'm of the impression that I need to do this more often. A little over 1 week ago, well, about 2 weeks ago, I had a day where I felt like everything that was up in the air was... possible to resolve. As of last weekend, I no longer feel as brave as I did 2 weeks ago when I felt I had made my mind up about a specific situation. I know that I am being completely ambiguous right now and I apologize for this. Please be patient with me.

Two weeks ago I felt like I had a new purpose; a new goal to direct myself towards, and I was really excited about this. As of this weekend, I feel like I'm not completely ready to move on from this "specific something". Everything is completely out of my hands right now and has been for a while now. I have no control in the outcome of this specific situation and I understand that and that's frustrating to me. It's extremely frustrating. And I don't know what to do with this new "information", if you will.

My heart has been restless since. Restless is the wrong word. My heart... has been disquieted. Do you know what the definition of 'disquiet' is? It's a transitive verb- which means that it is characterized by having or containing a direct object- anyway, disquiet is a transitive verb that means "to take away the peace or tranquillity of". My heart has been disquieted which has led to a restlessness that is not so much outwardly focused as inwardly focused... and constant. And along with this disquiet comes other emotions which are not emotions I want to feel. But, through this disquiet I understand that it's not time yet to move forward in this one situation.

Where does that leave things? Exactly where they were before I felt like I could move on, which... they were in a state of disaster. I was meditating the other day and was able, for a moment, to move beyond the disquiet and it was beautiful. I like that place, that place where it's okay that everything is out of your control because you feel connected to whatever has control over all that is happening to you. When I was done meditating, I laid in my bed and all the negativity I was feeling started creeping in again and I thought to myself, "No, not tonight" and I imagined pushing it all away from me like a pile of bricks that are in my way, and that's when the thought entered my mind, "Bless me with the knowledge to know what to do, and the strength, courage, determination, and vision to see it through."

It occurred to me afterwards that, I may not have complete control over things right now, and I may not know all that is coming my way. I may not be able to comprehend how things will resolve themselves out of the disaster that they've become; I may not feel patient enough to stand firm in the mist of this hurricane that is pulling and tearing and drowning any feeling of safety and peace I can latch on to. I may not have control like I want to, but I have strength of character to face the impossible. I have strength and courage to survive the impossible. I have determination to not give up and to see the difficult and frustrating through to the end. And I have vision and this vision allows hope to remain alive. I don't know how I've held on to Hope for so long, but she is still, very much, a part of me. My vision is hope and a quiet confidence that all will be as it should be; it may not be right now, but it will eventually be as it should be. Furthermore, my vision helps me know when I need to act and when I need to let life be; it guides me through the difficult. I may not have complete control, but I have strength, I have courage, I have determination, and I have vision; and that's enough for right now.

Hate Binds Us, Love Liberates Us

2012-01-16T10:46:00.000-08:00

In honor of human rights day and the amazing Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I would like to share the following quote and amazing words to live by, from a man who knew only love, regardless of the hate he was shown:

“I have decided to stick to love...Hate is too great a burden to bear.”
― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches

This life is about love. Hate wastes the limited time we've been given. Hate destroys all that we claim to be. I choose not to waste any more time on hate; it does no good... to me, or to anyone else. Hate is binding. Hate binds you to the person you direct it towards. We would all do better to let go of the hate that keeps us bound to the person we feel it towards. Love is liberating. Love allows you to let go of the pain, the unjustice, the needless hurt, and the wrong that was done towards you. Liberate yourself; choose to love instead of to hate.

Meditative Musings

2012-01-13T12:16:00.000-08:00

Familiarity can hold us back. While understanding of our current place is comforting, sometimes there is something better beyond where we are now. While we may feel like where we are is "good", sometimes stepping into the unknown can be stepping into something "better". Just because it's the unknown doesn't mean it's worse to be there than where we are now; more likely than not, it's better and where we are meant to be. Just because it's the unknown doesn't mean it's dark; it just means it's not familiar. When you've lived in dark for so long, even the light takes an adjustment to get used to.

Slam, Slam, Slam!

2012-01-09T11:28:00.000-08:00

The last 3-4 months have been extremely difficult for me. I'm not going to go into the details, but I will let you know that every aspect of my life has been relentlessly attacked and destroyed. A brief summary, my name and integrity has been tarnished to a person I love dearly and there is nothing I can do and no words I can say to redeem myself. I'm still confused as to all that went wrong and there is nothing I can do to prove to this person that I am not the horrible creature they think I am, but that I am the person that they thought they knew all along... I'm that person. Additionally to this, my financial security and my financial credit has been ruined because of my trust in a person that really let me down in more ways than one. I co-signed on a lot for someone that I trusted and this person failed me miserably and because of it... I am in near-financial ruin... but I signed for this person and so I will deal with it and I will never have anything to do with this person again, that's for certain. I know that by even writing this post, I risk more severe judgement, but it's my turn to talk. And just recently, this past weekend, I found out that my storage unit that holds all of my belongings, was accidentally auctioned off because management had me under the wrong unit number. So, for the last 2 years, I've been paying for someone else's stuff... I literally have nothing left to lose at this point. I write this post from the lowest place I have been in 2 years.

So much anger has filled my heart lately and I... don't like the anger. So much resentment has threatened to over power me, but I tirelessly fight it... I will not let it become me. So much hurt and tears have been shed because of things that are out of my control and I am learning to trust in a higher power for redemption and relief... and it's hard to trust in something beyond yourself, but that belief and hope is literally the only things I have left. Granted, I have a job, I have a reliable car, and I have a wonderful family that has been my only true support throughout my life. I am grateful for these things. But, I've still lost everything that I own. The one thing that remained in my storage unit was the piano that has been in my family for over 100 years. I don't know what I would have done if that had also been sold at auction. Management knew someone would come back for that, so they held off on selling it.

I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of the blaming. I'm tired of the lying... the lying that I've told and the lying that's been done to me. I'm tired of the constant backlash of life. I'm tired of feeling like I'm getting a grasp on my life only to have slam after slam break me down. Having said all of that, I'm grateful for the difficult. It occurred to me the other night after I meditated that all of these struggles and hardships mean that I'm doing something right. That sounds crazy, so let me elaborate.

I found out about my storage unit on Saturday January 7, 2012. That night, after hours of drafting up a list of my belongings that were in my storage unit and looking up the worth of my belongings through various sources, I was exhausted with all sorts of negativity. I then shut off the lights, I got rid of all the noise around me, and I sat in the dark and focused on my breathing and with each new breath I focused on positivity and with each exhale, I pushed the negative out. I focused on where I want to go with my life... how to begin again and that I can begin again with every new day. I focused on my hope. And after about 30 minutes of this, I laid down in my bed and I cried. I cried bitterly. And when all my tears were expended... I laid there and my mind was blank. I've rarely felt that feeling of no racing thoughts... but my mind was quiet. And clear as day, the thought entered my head and I said it out loud as it came, "When trials continuously seem to slam you from every direction, take courage, it means you're doing something right. Only the adversary seeks for your destruction and he will hit you the hardest when he's afraid you are becoming stronger. And when you rise above the difficulty of these challenges, you are winning the battle."

This blog is not intended to force or promote the belief of Deity. If you don't believe in God, it's not my mission to make you believe in Him. I don't know where these words came from. They were not of my creation because I could not come up with such light for the dark I've been in the last 3 months. I know where these words came from and that's all I need to know. For whatever it's worth, I wanted to share this experience with you.

This blogs main focus is on the process of adoption. Yes, I'm a birth mother, so I speak primarily from the perspective of a birth mother. For those of you out there who are seeking to adopt and going through the trials that accompany infertility, this message is also for you. For those of you out there who are adoptees who are struggling to find the people you came from, this message is also for you. For my fellow birth mothers and birth fathers and birth families... this message is also for us. Sorrow is sorrow. Anger is anger. Hardship is hardship and it comes in thousands of forms. We all feel these things. We all house emotions we don't want anything to do with and that hurt us to feel them. We all have dark thoughts that reside in us and that we struggle to get rid of. Life comes fast and it hits hard and when it's good, it's blessed, and when it's hard, it can feel soul shattering. And when life feels like it is relentlessly slamming you down, just remember, you are stronger than what you are being delt. You can rise above it. With each new difficulty, you are slowing winning the battle. Take courage in the face of difficulty because when you come out victoriously, your life will take on a direction you never thought yourself capable of traveling and only good can come from so much dark. The dark doesn't last forever and the light will come and for the duration of the storm, you just need to hold on to what is true... and that's inside of you.

Lessons in English

2012-01-05T12:04:00.000-08:00

I recently got rid of my home internet, and so I've found that I have loads of time on my hands lately. Even with school starting on the 9th of this month, I still feel that I will have invaluable time to focus on other projects.

I was meditating the other night... I know, that sounds weird, but it's true, I'm turning into one of "those" people. All joking aside though, once I finished meditating and laid down in my bed to go to sleep, my mind was in a calmer state and the thoughts that typically are zooming around too quickly to catch, were finally recognizable. One thought I had was to turn my pride into determination. I was so excited by this nugget of beauty that I immediately wanted to blog about it... and then I remembered I had no internet, and so I wrote it down to blog about once I found a second at my job that allowed for a break. That second is now.

It occurred to me that the actual definition of "pride" and "determination" was elusive to me. I know what they mean... in general terms, but I wanted to know what Meriam Webster says they mean and so I looked them up:
*Pride: The quality or state of being proud... ostentatious display.
-Ostentatious: Marked by... conspicuous or vainglorious and sometimes pretentious display.
--Vainglory: Vain display or show. Excessive pride especially in one's achievements.

*Determination: The act of deciding definitely and firmly; also: the result of such an act of decision.

For the longest time, I understood that pride was attributed to more of a negative quality, but I never understood why and there were times that I found I felt proud for something I accomplished accomplished but I didn't know if I should, because isn't pride bad? I've always known that I exhibit some of the more negative types of pride in my own life. I have a pride that is attached to my stubborness and it is a horrible thing. I knew that it was a horrible thing in a general sense, but now I understand fully how horrible a thing my pride can become. But I still don't think that every aspect of pride is "bad"... and I think for those times when pride isn't a "bad" thing, it's because it's become such a common-place things to refer to pride in regards to the good things in our life. Pride isn't good. So... what part of pride is good? I think there is a connection, however small, between determination and pride. The major thing that separates these two qualitites is that determination involves more action, whereas pride is, more or less, just a feeling that becomes us.

Goodness, I know that I am unleashing my full glory of nerdiness on you... this is why I'm an English major, because disection of words gets me going (nerd alert). You can have pride in your haircut. You can have pride in your grades. You can have pride in your car, but pride doesn't get you those things. Pride doesn't nurture progress. Determination brings about "something". Determination gets you the good grades. You can have pride in something that is... withering, but your pride won't provide the nourishment that "something" needs to heal and become something better than "it" already is. Determination to succeed, determination to find love, determination to nurture love, determination to make it through the difficult and downright seemingly impossible parts of life; it's a choice. Determination is a choice.

I think that determination is the good part of pride before it goes bad. I think determination gets you to that place where you know you can go and then once you're there, you believe that you'll always be there. That's where pride goes wrong. Life is progression and just because you finally got to where you were working so tirelessly to go... doesn't mean your done and there is nothing more to achieve, and that's pride; the belief that what you've got and were determined to get. will never be taken from you... or will never disappear and will always be what it currently is and so you no longer work to maintain it and it withers. That's sad.

How can we nurture what is most sacred to us and which we don't want to lose? The answer seems easier now, but only easier because I think I finally know the answer, and that's to always be determined to make whatever "it" is, better. Obviously, there is nothing easy about determination. Determination is a choice made over and over again... from day to day... from minute to minute... and even possibly from second to second, determination is a renewed choice. There is failure in pride. There is balance in determination. Let's not confuse the two.

2012 - The Year of Balance

2012-01-03T12:49:00.000-08:00

“You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.” - Dr. Seuss "Oh, The Places You'll Go"

As you know, for every New Year, instead of setting a whole bunch of resolutions, I focus on one major theme. I've been thinking a lot about the theme for 2012 and what it is I want to accomplish and work on. I've also been thinking of the color that I want to emulate 2012 after.

I had the wonderful opportunity to go into a Junior High School on December 17, 2011 to share my story as a birth mother with 13 and 14 year olds. It was such a wonderful experience and one that I was worried about going into because I wanted to leave these kids with the message that they can do anything they want with their life and they need to make those positive goals before they got out in to the real world and life becomes more complicated. My story as a birth mother and the issues surrounding baby daddy are quite fearsome and difficult and the one thing I thought back on during my pregnancy and then the two years, so far, after placement, was all the dreams and goals I had as a 14 year old. I remember them clear as day and I hold them with a sacredness in my heart. I've been blessed to remember back to these moments and feel that their memory has renewed me again.

Looking back over the last couple of years, I've learned so much and I'm grateful for the people I came in contact with and allowed myself to love because they taught me so much about myself. A lot of the lessons have been painful, but they led me to growth and acceptance, and I am so grateful for it all. I'm currently going through a difficulty right now that was born from my own decisions, as well as the choice actions of others, that have led to the consequence I am dealing with right now. How's that for being completely ambiguous while trying to express something to you? I'm not going to go in to detail of the events that led up to my current eye-opening consequence, because that's not what this blog is about. I only mention it because I have some serious anger in my heart towards one person specifically, and so much sorrow surrounding another specific person and... I'm tired of all the anger and sorrow and I feel like I've spent so much time over the last couple of years on these two emotions and I'm exhausted with these emotions. Which brings me to my next point.

I've decided that 2012 is going to be the year where I find Balance. When I think about balance, I feel warmth. When I think back to the moments when I've felt the most tangible kind of warmth in my heart, they are associated with the way the sun warms your skin and when I think of the sun, I think of the color yellow. I've never been one to actively seek out the color yellow. I've always been more of a blue-hued child, but I'm very excited about yellow. I've done some research on yellow and this is what I found.

Yellow can represent joy and delight. Isn't that a wonderful word? Delight. In Western culture, the color yellow symbolizes summertime. If you are a believer of inner energy, the color yellow represents the 3rd chakra of the body. Chakras are energy points of the body and the 3rd chakra is located in the center part of the body; the solar plexis region. I find the correlation with the solar plexis being the center of the body and the sun being the center of our solar system quite beautiful and symbolic for what I want to find in 2012, and that is balance and a sence of a centered self. Another thing I've thought about is the yellow light of a stop light. The yellow light is the middle ground of "stop" and "go"... it's a balance between two things.

I've noticed that the general theme I've had in my life is an "all or nothing" attitude, which isn't such a good theme I've started to notice. I believe an "all or nothing" mentality is beneficial when you have a short term goal in mind. But to live your life in such a way, every day, in every action... it's not beneficial, rather, it's damaging. And that's why I'm excited for this concept of balance. I believe that with balance, comes peace, and yellow has different hues. Yellow can be overpowering like direct sunlight, or it can be peaceful like a soft ray of light. One of my favorite glimpses of nature is a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. That is so symbolic for what 2012 is going to be for me. I'm ready for the joy and delight of life; for the balance and peace of life. This year is going to be a beautiful one, I can feel it already.

"Some Poems Don't Rhyme"

2011-12-29T13:02:00.000-08:00

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.”― Gilda Radner

I love this quote by Gilda Radner. It reminds me of the quote by Woody Allen, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." I think that's what makes change so hard to digest is because it involves letting go of what it is you wanted and worked towards for so long. As a child you are told to dream big and never lose sight of what it is you want in life. And then you get older and you realize that you actually have control over whether or not the dreams you had as a child are ones you want to pursue, or if you want to pursue something else.

Whatever it is you decide to go after, you pursue it with a passion that would be exhausting, but for how badly you want the end goal. And then something completely not in your control gets added in to it all. A situation might happen that changes everything, or worst of all... someone else has their own agency to make decisions on how they want their life to go. For a while, you both might have been on the same path, and then one day... you don't even recognize each other anymore because you don't even want the same things anymore. And everything changes and you realize that you can't control them and you don't have to let them control you. So, the only thing left to do is adapt.

You might try to adapt to their idea and their goal, but the only problem with that is that you lose yourself. Adapting is not about redeclaring a new identity. Adapting is about making what's changed, work... for you. And that's life. I have this picture in my head of how beautifully everything can fall in to place if people... a person would only see it my way... but this person feels the same way. So, what do we do? I don't know. The only thing that we can do is come to terms with the fact that our poem no longer rhymes and that can be uncomfortable and difficult for the reader. And though this part of the story still doesn't feel like the end for me, it's hard to see where it could possibly go from here. And I deeply love the characters in this story, but they are both too hard headed to see an agreement in the end, wherever the end is. So, all that is left to be done is to accept the change, embrace it, and hope that it makes you a better person for living it. You may not know where it's going to lead you, but it will lead you somewhere, and you still have some control over how willingly you are to let it take you where you're meant to go. Who knows what could possibly come from it? And that's what is scary.

The Purpose of Life is to Love

2011-12-29T12:00:00.000-08:00

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Dear Readers,

I have been so absent this year. It's been a year full of change and adaptation; I wish I would have documented it more. I've been reflecting on this past year a lot lately. My hope for this past year, 2011, was that it would be one of bravery and a passion for living. I'm going to be open and honest and some of this I am ashamed to admit, but I've learned so much from 2011, that I can't not share my life-lessons with you.

I did a lot of living this year; wild living. I began to drink this past year. My secret is already out to some members of my family, which is why I feel safe to discuss this on here. And, before I go any further, I need you to understand that this post is not condoning wild living. The most important way to live your life is a life lived by your moral code. I drank a lot this year and that's never been a part of my moral code.

My drinking started 1 year ago, Christmas Eve. I did it because I wanted to know what it was like to feel uninhibited for one moment. I did it because I wanted to know what it would feel like to live outisde my head for one moment. It was my plan to only do it once, but that once turned in to many times. And each time, for a brief moment, I lived outside my head and then I would feel sick and depressed and vow to never do it again, only to do it again. I haven't had a drink since Halloween night and I'm not going to. Luckily for me, I did not become addicted to it. That's saying a lot, because extended family members of mine are alcoholics and I do have an addictive personality, so I am very lucky.

I thought that drinking like this was living boldly and that's stupid thinking. I lost myself. It started out innocently as something I wanted to experience, and then it turned in to an emotional thing. When I say that, I mean, I wanted to drink when things were bad, or I wanted to drink as a social activity. Beyond all of that, I wanted to drink because I thought that someone I had in my life thought I was boring and judgemental without drinking. What started out as an innocent curiosity turned into something consuming of my identity. I don't blame my actions on anyone else. I just wish I had truly been courageous and brave in taking a stand for myself and realizing that I'm good enough without drinking.

To end the year bravely, I am confessing to you all a weakness I still have. I still don't trust my goodness and my value. I still allow other people to persuade me to do things I would never have otherwise sought out to do on my own and the shame of all this is within me because I allowed the persuassion. I take ownership of that.

Having said that, a few things I've learned about myself this year are that I am determined. I don't give up. I may have let go of some people in my life, but there is a difference in letting go and giving up. Letting go inspires moving on and adapting. Giving up is just that, being defeated. I don't give up and I've learned that it's okay to let go. Letting go hurts because it's new and you are letting go of something that- for a long time- inspired you and made you want to be a better person, but eventually was hurtful in the end. This is a fact of life. The things that inspire you the most can possibly, at some point, be detrimental to your growth.

I've learned that hope is faith and I still have hope. Regardless of everything I've seen and faced and lived in my life, I still have hope. Hope is survival. Hope is a precious gift. Whether it's hope in a Deity, or it's hope in the coming morning, hope is faith that things will sort themselves out and not hurt as much anymore. I live for hope. I've recently suffered a sorrow and am still coping with it... and as much as I want to close up and hide my heart and let it become cold and indestructable, like some people believe it already is... I choose not to become hard and calloused. I choose to still open my heart to those I know and those I will eventually meet. And I'm not just talking about romantic love... that's not the only love you open yourself up to be vulnerable to. Friendships, family members, strangers that are having a hard day... there are many different ways to make yourself vulnerable, but it's necessary because it's human.

There are more lessons I've learned this year and they are coming up in later posts, but I wanted to end by saying that it is my belief that our entire purpose in this life is to love. I'm not perfect in this. I've done and said many hurtful things to the people I love the most, but I also understand that accountability for pain needs to be taken on all sides. No one person is capable of causing all the sorrow and damage of heartache and loss... it takes multiple people to contibute to loss and pain. Regardless of this, I still choose to love because that's why I'm here. I'm here to love.

Positivity is a Blessed Thing

2011-10-31T19:35:00.001-07:00

I love those moments when you know that everything will work out, you may not know how, but you know that it will. Those moments are tender mercies and come when you need them the most. I know everything will work the way it's supposed to work and for me to say that is a huge thing because I am a control freak. Tonight... not much is in my control, really nothing actually except the decision to take a shower and go to bed. Normally when things are not in my control, I freak out, but tonight I know that everything will work out how it's supposed to and that's good enough and I can rest easy because I know that I'm doing all that I can, the rest is out of my control and I'm okay with that. I don't know why I feel the need to post this except to say that I believe in hope and sometimes hope is all we've got. It's a beautiful thing, hope.

A Lesson Learned from Astronomy

2011-10-03T23:29:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I was reading in my textbook for my Cultural Astronomy class and came across an extremely beautiful legend. The text that I'm reading is an anthropological study of the Bororo tribe, who are the natives of Brazil... I believe. The man who wrote this book, his last name is Fabian, lived among this tribe to learn their customs and beliefs in order to write his dissertation for his Doctorates degree in Anthropology. His focus was to learn how this tribe relates to the Heavens and what their Astrological belief systems were and still are. It's quite beautiful, the legends that he narrates in this book. The narrations are brief in comparison to the science aspect of all of it, but they are beautiful all the same. The specific legend I am going to relate to you is the legend of how the Bororo tribe believes the stars came to be.

It was during a time when the men of the tribe were out hunting and gathering, so it was a season of hunting. They left their home to go out to gather and provide for their people. While the men were gone, the women every day would go out to the land to try to find food for their children. The women would be gone for a long time and would return at night with no food for their children. They told the children that they were not able to find anything to bring to them. One day, a particularly pesky child convinced his mother to let him go out with her to find food. She let him. And while he was with the women, they came across a massive corn field and the women ate corn all day, when they returned to their children, they claimed that they could not find food. The next day when the women left, this little boy told the other children what he saw and all the food that their mothers found but would not share with them. The children discussed what they should do and it was decided that they would run away from their mothers. They sent Hummingbird up to the sky with a string, and Hummingbird flew to the Heavens and secured the string for the children to climb up in order to escape their mothers. The children began to climb, higher and higher. The mothers came home and looked for their children, wondering where they had gone. One mother looked to the Heavens and saw the last of the children climbing away from them. She exclaimed to the other mothers and all the mothers looked up and tried to encourage their children to come down and nurse from them for nourishment. When their enticing didn't work, the m others began to climb up the string to go after the children. As the last child finished his climb, he looked down in to the face of his mother and he cut the string. The mothers all fell to the earth and turned into wild animals, left to forever roam the earth in search for food. The men returned to the village and could not find their children. They heard the laughter of their children above them and looked up towards the Heavens where they saw their children. Their children became stars of the Heavens and beautified the sky.

I couldn't help but think to myself after I read that, how sad the fathers must have been when they got home and found that their children were missing. And then the sorrow mixed with joy that they must have felt when they realized that their children were the stars the lit up the night of the sky. They must have longed for them so much and missed them so much, but at the same time, they must have cherished them even more for lighting up their lives and making their darkest nights bright. They must have watched the skies every night in anticipation of their children growing up and moving on... and when the seasons changed, their children would move one, but eventually they would come back to see their fathers. And their fathers must have watched patiently every night for the return of the light of their beloved children.

It's hard not to hear that legend and think of Baby Boy. He is a bright star and I get to watch him from a distance. I miss him, but I'm happy that he gets to shine so brightly in his surroundings with his family and siblings. I think I know how those fathers of old felt when they would gaze up at the sky at their children. Maybe that's why that legend is so beautiful, is because I feel like I can relate to it. And maybe that's what makes it so beautiful, is that a person of such modern understanding can feel and tangibly understand the emotions connected with the belief of a culture that still believes in ancient legend to understand the Heavens. And, I think, beyond that... any parent can relate to this legend, not just birth parents. There comes a time when all children "leave" their parents and move on to another place in life. There is a disconnect that occurs... and in most cases, the children eventually make their way back to their parents, but they've changed. I don't know what the future will bring, but I hope that one day Baby Boy makes his way back to me... not to act as his mother, but to know the woman that I am and will become. I will always benefit from his light because I will always be aware of him and I will always know his beauty and perfection. If he doesn't choose to know me, then I hope the things he learns of me will prove to be a light to him in his life because he is the light of mine. I hope I can be the same for him in return.

This Is My Truth

2011-09-26T23:24:00.000-07:00

“There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be...”
― John Lennon

This is my truth, a truth I've finally come to know: There are no mistakes in life. Everything we wished we could have done differently, or the places we've been we wished we might not have gone... they all led us to where we need to be and if we find we no longer want to be there, well, that can all change with one decision. Life is not meant to be lived with regret, so no more regrets... now it's on to the living.

I took a big step today in shedding off my shame. Shame is the destruction of your soul. Your truth may not be widely accepted... and what your truth is can change over time, but that doesn't make it wrong for the moment it was exclaimed. That just means that, when your truth changes from what it was into what it is now, that you had more information available to you in order to come to a better truth. Wrong is not "wrong", it's just misunderstood, and we all would be better people if we took an active interest in understanding that which doesn't make sense to us because only then can we build better truths within ourselves.

My Thoughts on Weakness

2011-09-25T23:56:00.000-07:00

The only way a relationship can grow in the way it needs to grow is if it starts from ground zero and those involved recognize the other person's weakness for what it is; the thing about that person that makes them most vulnerable and therefore needs the greatest care... not judgement.

Dear Sweetheart,

2011-09-14T22:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

I really miss you tonight. I've missed you a lot lately. I don't even know what to write right now because all I know is what I feel. I've noticed something in my life, it seems the older you get and the more life you live, the deeper you feel your emotions... and sometimes those emotions are so big that you can't even name them. Tonight is one of those nights.

I'm trying to become a person you would be proud of and some days that's harder to do than others. Today was one of those days. Tomorrow is another day and that's a beautiful thing. I love you so much. I love you so much Baby Boy. I'm not proud of everything I've done in my life, but the one thing I'll always be proud of is you, the greatest blessing I've ever been given. I love you Baby Boy.

Love,

your birth mother

... [ENTER WITTY TITLE HERE THAT SUMMARIZES THE BRILLIANCE OF THE FOLLOWING POST]...

2011-09-11T22:13:00.000-07:00

What a weird night? Anyone else feeling full of emotions that they can't recognize? This is frustrating. I feel so... on the verge of tears only I can't name the emotion. Today is the 10 year anniversary of 9/11 and it's bizarre. So much can happen in 10 years. So much life can be lived and forgotten about within 10 years. So many promises can be made to yourself and then... life gets in the way and you forget what once was important to you and then you find yourself in a place you never anticipated and you don't remember what it is you ever wanted. You're at ground zero... you are at a place in your life where it needs to be re-built from nothing. You have to find a sturdy structure to re-build on because the one you had before proved faulty... or just incapable of surviving the blows of life.

I don't mean for this post to be philosophical. And maybe it's not. What I do know is that I thought that I had re-built. I thought that when Baby Boy was born and I left the hospital and he was united with his parents... and my soul died on the drive home... when I went to bed that night, I thought that that moment was ground zero and now I'm starting to realize that life is full of those moments. And they hit you out of nowhere. And they make you feel insignificant to the task that lays before you. How do you re-build what you once thought was indestructible? How do you adapt to change and survive? How do you find yourself and claim ownership when everyone around you is fighting against the person you feel you are?

Everyone has their own ideas of how something should be re-built. Everyone has their own ideas of where the previous foundation was faulty and why the destruction happened in the first place. But, who has the final say on the new creation? This has all been on my mind for a long while now and... I didn't realize how... scary it is to re-build. And I honestly don't know if this post is making any sense. I have a gazillion thoughts competing in my head and they are ridiculously hard to catch. Okay, there aren't a gazillion of them... really there are like only (one second while I count), okay there are really 4 major thoughts going on in my head right now. But, they are all giant gorillas on my back.

I'm a boat-rocker... I stir things up. I don't say this in defiance. I say this because... I've always been that way. Again, not out of a need to be defiant, but because I see the world differently... I see things differently. And it's hard. And, I am not seeking pity... I don't mean for this post to be a woe-is-me post. I'm just trying to make sense of it all. I challenge people's perspectives on things and I don't do this to create enemies. I don't do this to make other's see that I'm right and they are wrong, even though I'm pretty sure I can come across that way. I do this because in my heart, what I am fighting for... isn't wrong, and it's not right either, but it shouldn't be feared because it just "is".

This is a confession post, though I lack the gumption to declare my confession because I know that it's going to disappoint a lot of people who care about me. I will alleviate some fears that I know are going through a lot of minds right now. No, I'm not pregnant. No, I haven't been doing anything to lead to pregnancy (last time I heard, Immaculate Conception hasn't happened for a long time). Yes, I believe in God. No, I'm not leaving my organized religion. No, I am not planning to stage a Revolution against the Government (though I feel a Revolution is definitely in order). I think I've covered all the big fears.

I'm shaking right now as I try to decide whether or not to post this blog-post. I might regret this post. I'm pretty sure I will, but, I also hope that from it great things will surface and be resolved. And I know that I've been very sneaky in not coming out and saying what I'm referring to. If I could leave you all with a thought to consider, it would be this:

We are most afraid of that which we don't understand. We aren't meant to understand everything. People will come into our lives that live their lives in complete contrast to our own, that doesn't make them bad and if you perceive them as "wrong" or "shameful" or "disappointing", perhaps some inward reflection would be beneficial. People are people. There are "bad" people out there... those are the ones who commit crimes against humanity... you know the type... Osama Bin Laden, Hitler... those kinds. But, for the most part, people are just trying to survive and if they happen to look different, or they talk differently, or they believe in a different God... that doesn't make them wrong. We can all learn a lot from each other; to "learn" is to "come to realize"... what that realization is, is ultimately up to you. Don't judge a book by it's cover. I hate to end this post with a cliche, but I suppose if you are to use a cliche, that would be a good one to use. Don't judge a book by it's cover, it's usually better on the inside than it looks on the outside.

Autumn Time Means Back to School

2011-08-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

I return to school on August 29, 2011. I finally did it. It's been a long time coming, but I did it and I am so excited. Here's to the next step.

My Sun

2011-06-25T12:32:00.000-07:00

I was just sitting here thinking back on specific moments the last little while. I'm sitting in my living room after my shower after my swim this morning and the lights are off and the sun is shining brightly through the ceiling sun lights.

I'm thinking about Baby Boy and the last time I saw him. It was for an Adoption Walk I attended about a month ago. I can't remember if I've already written about it or not. His dad brought Baby Boy and Baby Boy's siblings to the walk and we walked around the track together. My little guy was running all over the place, not at all wanting to be contained in any way. He had the biggest smile on his face and the longer he smiled, the rosier his cheeks got. His eyes are beautiful hazel and his skin is olive complected. He looks like a little Italian baby, he is serious perfection. I followed him around for such a long time and I was mesmerized by him. I created him, I made him from scratch... and he is changing every day more and more and he takes my breath away every time I see him.

He openly swatted at his sister. Now, I do not condone siblings fighting physically, and this was hardly a fight. Rather, it was more of an annoyed swat... but it was adorable. And the look on his face when he did it was the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life; his brow was seriously furrowed and his jaw set. Apparently he has a "hitting problem" that his parents are, "working on"... those are direct quotes. And, my heart warms when I heard that... not because he hits, but because he hits. That doesn't make any sense except that it makes perfect sense in my head, which I'm not going to try to explain. And when he gets upset he throws whatever is in his hand. I learned from his dad, that if nothing is in his hand, then he will walk into the kitchen and purposefully tip over the garbage can. It is impossible for me to find the words to describe how much joy the knowledge of his garbage-can-tipping brings to my heart. It's true.

The little man's got serious defiance and I love that about him. He hardly said a word but his voice when he laughed made me break out in goosebumps. The last time I heard the sound of joy was the first time I heard him cry. The sound of joy is my baby's laughter. He is observant, he watched his surroundings like a hawk and maintained interest in the object he was watching. He is brave, he wanders off and doesn't look back like most babies his age, rather he keeps going and if you don't watch him close, he's gone before you realize it. I love his fearlessness. A fire engine went off and he didn't cry, he simply watched the fire truck as it left the track (the local fire department came in support of birth mothers). He watched the fire engine with a look of curiosity on his face and he never looked away until it was out of his sight.

I bribed him with a piece of a donut. The little man didn't want to be contained which made holding him difficult, so I resorted to bribing measures. It's true. I held out the piece of donut in my hand and he reached for it, at which point I slowly pulled it just out of his reach and closer to me. When he was within grabbing distance, I held him for a brief moment... just long enough for him to shove the donut in his mouth and then run off.

I got to hold him as he drank a bottle. It was getting late in the afternoon and he had been running all over the place. It was near to his nap time and we were all wrapping things up to go our separate ways. His dad gave me a bottle, and I resorted to bribing measures again, and I picked him up and held him while he drank. At first he looked at me inquisitively and then he began patting my shoulder lightly. I think he might have been a little nervous and so I started whispering into his ear how much I love him. He rested his head against my lips and I whispered over and over how much I love him. I then handed him back over to his dad and we all went our separate ways. That was a beautiful afternoon. I love his parents deeply. They are amazing people and have been amazing towards me and my family. He was always meant to be with them. That knowledge doesn't make it any less easier, but in a way it does because I know that he is safe, and happy, and loved, and adored, and will always be provided for. The memory of the Adoption Walk is imprinted upon my memory like the feeling of the warmth of the sun before you step into it. You know it's beautiful and you can lose yourself in the warmth. It's quiet and that's what is so special about it, even in it's softness, the memory will never be forgotten.

I am a blessed woman. I am grateful for Baby Boy's parents. I am grateful for Baby Boy. I am grateful that I was blessed to deliver him. I am a blessed woman.

Hope

2011-06-14T20:14:00.000-07:00

‎"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all." - Emily Dickinson

Hope is a blessing and a curse. Hope can bring you peace and make you feel like you are going insane. Hope can be liberating and it can be exhausting. Hope can be naive, but take a lifetime to to believe in. Hope can sit quietly for hours, days, months, and even years... and then when you least expect it, will fill your soul with song. No matter what, I choose to hope.

A Lesson Learned Perhaps Too Late

2011-06-06T22:01:00.000-07:00

Life is about love. It's not about who wins an argument. It's not about who is more right than wrong. Sometimes, you've got to back down because the argument isn't worth the pain that it inflicts in the lives of those you love the most. My biggest failures in life have been born because of my inability to own my wrong-doings and respect the pain that my wrong-doing has caused in the lives of others. There are times when you cannot and should not attempt to explain away your shortcomings because, simply, there is no excuse good enough to erase the hurt that you've caused. And to argue at that point... is tragic.

Summary of My Gratitudes for 5.19.2011 to 5.26.2011

2011-05-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

I am Grateful for:

-The song "A Day Without Rain" by Enya: I am grateful for this song because it reminds me of a time when I felt the most secure and safe.

-My friends: I am grateful for my friends (they know who they are) because of their patience and kindness and because of no matter how frustrating I can be, they still love me.

-Leaving work early: Always a nice thing to get to do.

-A night of peaceful sleep: I am grateful for that moment when you are semi-conscious and completely aware of how comfortable you are and that you get to continue being that comfortable for a while longer.

-My dad: He fixed my car and bought the parts. He has saved me thousands of dollars over the years because of his help and I am grateful for him.

-My brother: He helped my dad to fix my car. He is so easy to talk to and he gives the best hugs. I gave him a hug goodbye and when I pulled away to go home, he pulled me in closer and hugged me longer and I really needed that. I'm grateful for his love.

-A moment of tranquility: I was swimming in my apartment's pool that is outdoors and I stared up at the mountains that still have snow on them and it was odd to me to be outdoors swimming when there is still snow in the mountains. But, the longer I stared at the mountains, it was like all the tension literally washed from my body and it was a wonderful moment. I'm grateful for that moment and for my ability to recognize it for what it was.

-The sun: The sun shone bright one day and it was so warm on my skin and nurturing. It felt nurturing and it made me happy and hopeful. I focused on all those things as I walked around outside and I want to always remember that moment because it was... a soft moment, if that makes sense. I felt like I was walking in softness and it was beautiful. This is another moment I'm grateful I was able to recognize.

-Swimming lessons: My dear friend Beauty taught me how to swim better because I was pretty much only capable of the doggy paddle and I had loads of fun.I have much more fun when I swim now because I actually swim rather than just wade.

-The rain: I've complained a lot about the rain lately, but as I checked my mail one evening I got a whiff of rain mixed with dirt and the sidewalk and flowers from somewhere. I love the combination of those smells. If only that smell could be captured in perfume. I love the way the rain surrounds you and revitalizes your spirit. I am grateful for the rain for as long as it should last because I know I'll miss it when it's gone.

-Therapy sessions: I am learning so much and I'm grateful for this. I am learning how to better react to difficult situations and it has already made all the difference in the world just since this last Tuesday. I am learning I impact those I love most depending on my reactions to them. And I'm learning alternatives to some of the negative ways that I react. I don't need to control every situation and the people in it, I just need to control how I respond and there is power and peace and joy in the control of my emotions. I'm grateful to learn this.

-Birth Mothers Group: I am grateful that I felt confident to share what I've learned with the girl in group who is currently pregnant. I felt a shift of... "emotional atmosphere", if you will, from when all the other birth mom's were bombarding this girl with their opinions to when I leaned across the table towards her and calmly asked her what her biggest fear was. That was the first time anyone listened to her and I felt this quieting moment as she gathered her thoughts to answer. And every time one of the other girls would cut her off, I would bring the dialogue back to her. I felt protective of her. I wanted her to feel like she had a voice in all of this; she needs to orate her story and she needs to figure out what her voice in all of this is and I wanted her to express it, I didn't want it to be told to her. I can't explain the shift of emotion, but I felt it and I am grateful because I was able to experience where I've come from, where I currently am, and where I want to be one day all within the same moment and it was beautiful. I'm grateful for that.

-Staying late at work (on occasion): Since I've started going back to therapy and attending group, I haven't been making my 40 hours per week. One night, we all stayed late at work because we had to finish a Procedural History to file with the court by the next morning and it was kind of fun to chill out with my boss and co-worker as we drafted and re-drafted the document. I'm grateful for this moment because I haven't always seen the niceties about my job. I've complained a lot about it and so I'm grateful that I am learning to notice the good moments when they come and they come a lot more often than I've previously realized. I'm grateful for staying late at work tonight because it will get me closer to my 40 hours this week.

Focusing on the things that I am grateful for and actively looking back on each day's activities and recognizing that there is much to be grateful for each day has helped me so much this last week. I am excited to see what I learn from the next week to come.

An Exercise in Gratitude

2011-05-19T12:41:00.000-07:00

I started attending therapy this last week. On top of attending therapy I have also returned to the birth mother's group offered through the agency whom I placed through. It's made quite a bit of difference already. I stopped attending the groups because things with work got extremely busy but then things got to a place where I could have continued attending had I chosen to, but I didn't want to. I wanted to believe I was to a place where I had coped and dealt with everything and I was the epitome of "alright". Anyway, I have now attended to birth mother's groups and the first week I went back resulted in a flood of emotion during group. I didn't realize how much pent-up grief I had inside me. I was a mess. But, when I drove home that night I felt so much... so much more intact than I have for a long time now. Nothing changed. My sorrow was still there and I was more aware of it than in a long time and the situational circumstances that were wearing on me were still there, but I was finally paying them attention and that's what the difference was. I was recognizing what was going on. I wasn't trying to push it away, or looking for some way to mask it, I was aware of it and that recognition brought with it that feeling you get when you exhale a long exhale after a long day of difficulty because it's over, that day is over and you survived. I felt that.

At this last weeks group we talked about gratitude and how there have been studies done about people who are experiencing grief or working through trauma and during all of that, the people experiencing these hardships are more recognizing of the blessings in their life. The studies have gone on to state that, in some cases, these people recognizing the blessings and what they are grateful for benefit more from that alone than actual therapy. More studies have been conducted that have proven that people who attend therapy and don't facilitate and accept real changes in themselves will regress into the same negative patterns as early as 5 years after they attended therapy. But, the people who learn to recognize the blessings in their lives and who are grateful for those blessings benefit more long term than the ones who don't recognize the blessings. We were given a gratitude journal at group and an assignment to write down three things every day that we are grateful for that happened that day. I've decided that I am going to make this a consistent habit and that I am going to share it with all you, my dear friends.

Yesterday I was grateful that the morning divorce mediation I had to assist with ended early. I wasn't feeling ready to listen to people argue for hours on end and I didn't want to do it, but it ended after an hour and was rescheduled. That was a blessing and I am grateful for it. I was then able to make a lot of progress in my other cases.

I am grateful for understanding friends. I only have my perception of events and I was not aware that I had hurt a dear friend of mine the day before. It was brought to my attention and I felt bad, but my friends are patient and understanding and I am grateful for that. The hurt has been healed and I understand myself better and how I can come across and that is valuable knowledge to have and I have my dear friends to thank for helping me understand this. I am grateful to them.

I am grateful for Murdock my lily plant. I know that sounds silly, but he is beautiful and you look at him and he is so happy. It's been a long couple of weeks and the weather has been drizzly and depressing. I love the rain, but not when it is constant. Rather, I love the thunderstorms that hit out of nowhere and last for a bit and then go away and leave the world refreshed and then the sun comes out and it's beautiful. The rain we have had in Utah has been constant and the sun... not completely present. I came home from work yesterday and Murdock was on the table outside and he has new blossoms and he was bright against the contrast of the sky. I looked at him and my heart was happy and I smiled. I'm grateful for my lily, Murdock. I will post a picture of him. I think you'll agree that he is fantastic.

I won't post these gratitude posts every day. Instead, I will collect them throughout the week and post the highlights on a weekly basis. I can tell you today that I am already starting to recognize quicker the moments that lead to my gratitude. It's a good feeling, being grateful.

Deleted Comments

2011-05-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

I was noticing today that some of the comments from my last post are now gone. To those of you who commented and it's now no longer there, I don't know what happened. I know that blogger was having a maintenance the other night and now the comments are gone. Please know that I did not delete your comments. I value everyone's input and I want you all to know how grateful I am for your support. It means more than you will ever know. God bless you all.

Sincerely,

Other Mother

An Awakening

2011-05-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

It's been a really hard couple of weeks. I'm not going to go into details leading up to my awakening, but I have learned something about myself that is... frightening to recognize. It makes so much sense though and while it's difficult to realize... I feel relief. I was in therapy after I placed my son for adoption and therapy was going relatively well. I felt like I bonded well with my therapist and like I was making progress through the aftermath that comes from placing your child for adoption. Before I knew it, life became really busy and work became... completely encompassing of every aspect of my life... and therapy went on the wayside.

I think I always knew that I needed to go back, but I couldn't find the time... but even saying that isn't completely true. At one point, I couldn't find the time, but then after a while... I had time, I just didn't prioritize it anymore. I wanted to believe that everything was fine and I was the epitome of grace under fire. Well, lately my life has felt like it's been spinning out of control and I spent majority of today crying in a bathroom stall at work. I met my mother for lunch and... I wasn't myself and she caught on to the lack of me and I... spoke honestly with her. Some things came out that I had been hiding from her because I wanted her to think that everything was alright... and she started to cry. I made my mother cry. She told me, "Your dad asked me the other day how you are doing and I responded, 'I think she's lost. I think she is looking for something but she doesn't know where to find it.'"

My heart... and my soul deflated when I heard her say that to me. It's defeating to learn that the facade you've put up for the longest time was never believable in the first place. That's when I admitted to my mother that I need help. I feel like I am spinning out of control and I need help. One of the last things that I learned while in therapy was that I suffer from abandonment issues. In fact, I've been researching it lately and I think that that diagnosis could be the root of everything else... my anxiety, my separation issues, and even my inability to concentrate when stressed and scared... and I'm scared a lot.

I went to birth mothers group tonight for the first time in over a year and... I sat away from everyone else. The caseworkers facilitating the group recognized me from before and they kept calling on me to give my perspective and experience and it was hard and I didn't want to share my story, but I did and it was honest. It was honest. And it left me feeling... at rock bottom but completely at peace. I might regret this post tomorrow morning. You may think that the things that I've written before were completely raw and honest, but this is as honest as it gets.

I need therapy and I'm going to get it. I need to address some serious issues if I can ever hope to have a healthy relationship. So, this is that start of something knew and now that we've got that awkwardness out of the way, allow me to make it more awkward by introducing who I really am and what unresolved abandonment is to me.

My nickname is Kiki and I am 26 years old. I placed my son for adoption a year and a half ago and I suffer from unresolved abandonment issues. Every second of every day I am insecure in myself. I self medicate these insecurities mostly by eating. I am self-defeating because I don't believe in myself to succeed; I constantly self-sabotage myself. I have minimal self esteem and my self worth is contingent on whether or not I feel loved... and I don't think I'm deserving of love, so essentially I see myself as having no value whatsoever. I have a hard time connecting with other people. I can keep them at a distance while giving them just enough information to think that they know who I am... and I don't even know who that is anymore. I ruin healthy relationships because I think that the one I am with is better off without me because, in my mind, I'm worthless. I am in a constant state of depression with the occasional moment of peace and humor... but I never trust those moments to last because... they usually don't because I do something to sabotage the good.

I'm sorry if this has made you uncomfortable, but... it feels good for me to talk about it. I am relieved to speak about this. For the longest time I've felt the need to pretend that all is swell and... it's not. And that's okay. I'm aware of the core issue now and I'm going to get help for it. I'm going to talk about it on here. Mental health issues, in our culture, are usually attached to some pretty heavy stigma and the only way to change that is to talk about it and I'm going to talk about it. I'm going to talk about it here, publicly. I hope you stay with me. I think we can all learn a lot.

Lots of Thinking Going on Today... and Lately... In General

2011-05-08T22:20:00.000-07:00

This song has nothing to do with Mothers Day except for the fact that if I could put all my feelings and emotions over the last little while of my life into one piece of text, then the lyrics to this song would be what I would say.

I wish I could fix all the wrong that I've done to myself and to others. Sometimes it's easier to pretend like everything is fine and you can go along in that way for a while, but it gets exhausting. And when it becomes exhausting, that's when it's easier to run away. But, running away doesn't solve anything. I know this for a fact.

You'll make strides and then something will happen and hiccup the progress and it may not seem fair and it might involve more hearts than just your own. You might have brought on the pain all on your own or it might have involved other people. Upsets will come and how you weather the storm is the telling factor of what will come of it. You may choose to ignore it or you could face it head on. Experience has taught me that the outcome is better if you face it head on rather than pretending that everything is fine. In fact, if you face it head on, you'll get through it; rather than pushing it back to another time to resolve.

I feel beaten down and exhausted. I want to run away, but I stay. I want to hide, but I also want to live. I want to give up, but my determination won't allow for it. Life can't always be fixed. And that's part of living. One decision can alter the rest of your life and all the best intentions in the world might not fix the mess that's been made... and that's still not a good enough reason to give up. The beautiful thing about life is you can mess up all you want, but you still have the rest of your life to make it right and the lessons that come along the way make it all worthwhile because you become a better person for having experienced all of it.

Today is Mother's Day and... it's a ridiculous day created by corporations to market chocolates and flowers... it means nothing. I am a mother but no one knows that. I love my son and I gave him the best I could and that was a life with opportunity. Do I wish I could have kept him? Every second of every day I wish that I could have kept him. Did creating him alter my entire life? Completely, but I am thankful for the difference. He's made me better. Are there days when I want to give up and run away? All the time.

This song has nothing to do with Mother's Day... but, it sums up all that I want to say right now.

[Insert Clever Title Here]

2011-05-05T12:46:00.000-07:00

The main reason I started writing this blog was to talk about Open Adoption and offer my perspective on it as a birth mother. From this I have learned more about myself and who I was and I have a really good idea about who it is I want to become. What I've noticed along the way is that it is so much easier to look back to another time and see who you were and then look forward to recognize the type of person you want to become; but the current "who am I right now?" is the hard question to ask because you are stuck in the "now". I don't know if I've talked about this before or given this specific example but there is this little story that narrates better what I'm trying to say... to a degree. It goes something like this:

Imagine you are a carrot and you are going along in life as you know it, minding your own business and going with the flow when all of a sudden your world and all that you know is interrupted and you find yourself spinning out of control and you start colliding with potatos and pieces of chicken and celery. With each collision you feel more and more pain but you can't figure out where it is you are and where you're going, but all you want to do is to get back to where you were because you weren't spinning out of control then. You go on in this fashion for quite some time and just when you think that all is lost, or you will never find yourself again, you are out of the muck and you are looking down on the confusion and chaos. You look around yourself and take in your surroundings and you wipe the muck away from your eyes and you look down at where you came from and it all makes sense finally. You understand that you are part of stew.

I know that sounds so silly. And I don't mean to make light of the gravity of what I will be attempting to say from here on out. Here's the point, we are all part of stew. Life is stew and we are part of it and every now and then our lives will be interrupted by a big "stir". For the most part we won't see the "stir" coming until we are swept away in it. That's when life is chaotic and hard because you feel like you are out of control... like you have no control over your own life anymore. You collide with people that leave you hurting, you collide with experience that leaves you feeling damaged and incomplete, you lose every sense of security you used to have and realize that you took that security for granted and you want desperately to get back to the place that felt safe. And then, before you know it, you aren't spinning anymore and things are calm and quiet. You are still a little dizzy from the "stir" but it's easier to find solid ground and you can see and what you see is where you came from was no where you'd like to be again and the bigger picture is more obvious. It's in that moment that you understand where you want to go and you know a little better who you are, but even that is confusing because you are a different person from who you once were.

I'm in that place right now. My eyes are open and I can see. It's so interesting because I had this idea at the beginning of this year that I would live my life "red"... or fearless. Well folks, that's proving more uncomfortable than I ever thought it would be. And that's okay. This is what I've learned so far this year:
1- Fear is always there. The point is to break through the fear that is holding me back.
2- It's not healthy/good to base all your dreams and goals into one "thing" because if you do and that's your only focus then you will miss all the important lessons that come with the experience of living.

I've been working towards a major goal and I pushed all other goals out of the way to make it to this one goal and I am so near completion that it's liberating, but during this process my life was "stirred" unexpectedly and the original goal has somewhat changed or been postponed... or is unattainable at this point. And now I'm understanding that outside of that one goal, I didn't have anything else to work towards, so now I'm left wondering "what now?" And that's the point. "What now?"

One thing I've noticed during the process of this blog is that I learn things about myself I never set out to learn and they are invaluable. With the support of some very dear friends I am learning how to be happy in myself rather than placing my happiness in things that are "to come"... what does that mean? "To come" is not a subjective time frame... it's a horizon. That "to come" may never come and depending on how invested I am in the stuff of life, I might not recognize the "to come" should it actually come.

I need to find happiness in my self and I need to find security in myself before I can ever be a security for anyone else. I'm glad I see this now because it could have lead to some very disastrous and unnecessary hardship. That's not to say that life won't stir up more difficulty, but I feel better equipped now to face it when it comes. I'm learning who I am and I'm learning to love her and appreciate and respect her. I'm learning that she's a bit quirky, but she's full of compassion and has so much love to give even if sometimes it doesn't seem that way.

My goal is to get back into school. My goal is to focus on my hobbies and develop my talents. My goal is to speak kindly to myself and not put myself down. I really want to eliminate the word "can't" from my vocabulary... that one may take a little more time to accomplish and if I don't accomplish it, then I would at least like to retrain my thoughts to not automatically turn down something I would have never thought to try in the first place because, maybe when I try, I'll like it after all. How do you know you aren't able to do something or that you won't like it if you don't at least give it your best attempt at least once. This is the direction this blog is going to take. I know who I was, now is the time to focus on who I currently am and that will naturally lead into the person I want to become... and she's pretty stellar because she's who I am now and ever was; the only difference is she knows it.

Let It Be

2011-05-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

Last night I was informed that Osama Bin Laden is dead and I was listening to the song above as I found out and I haven't been able to stop listening to this song since. I don't own a television so I don't have instant news. All the news I get, I get after the fact when I read it in online articles. This is so surreal to me. I remember where I was when 9/11 happened. I was late for school. It was my senior year and I had overslept. I was sitting in the bathroom putting on my makeup. I overheard my sister and my parents exclaiming shock and dismay about something that was on the news; I just figured it was political mud-throwing. Not too long after that I heard more exclamations and shock and I went into my parents room to see what was so alarming on the news. That's when I saw the feed of the second plane crashing into the second World Trade Center tower. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was so bizarre to see a plane fly into a building. My parents informed me that two planes collided into these buildings and that there was speculation that it could be terrorist activity.

I walked back into the bathroom and absent mindedly brushed through my hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I kept thinking to myself, "What if it is a terrorist attack?" And then I would quickly console myself by brushing away the idea as absurd. But, the reflection in the mirror that stared back at me was that of a frightened teenager. I woke up that morning feeling like a woman and on top of the world and... dare I say it? Like a mature adult. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was a frightened child. My mother hugged me and kissed my cheek as she ushered me out the door to school. I remember her hug was lingering and when she kissed my cheek, her thumb lingered on my cheek bone as she stared into my eyes. I told her I was scared and she told me, "It will all be alright. I'll see you when you get home sweetheart." And then she hugged me once more and I left for school.

As I drove to school, my eyes were not on the road, rather they were on the sky watching for any rogue airplanes that might drop at any second. I know that sounds absurd. Why would Al Qaeda spend it's time focusing on the small town I grew up in... a town whose biggest threat are the boys that tip over the farmer's cows at night... silly pranks. But I was convinced that a plane would fall from the sky and that it would land on my town. When I got to school I walked through the empty halls and heard the televisions blaring in every room, all on the same news station. There was silence, no obnoxious students giving their teachers hell... no roudy rooms where a teacher is trying in vain to regain control of their clas... the only sound was that of the same news anchor reporting the events that changed the world within the last 5 hours.

When I was a nanny in New York, the people I worked for told me first hand their experience on 9/11. They had lost loved ones and dear friend in the attack on the World Trade Centers. They knew of children who had been fostered out because both their parents were in those buildings. The father of the children I nannied cried as he spoke of being trapped in a city that was being attacked and not being able to get home to his family for 18 hours because all the roads were closed and pandemonium ensued wherever you went. He was only blocks away from where the towers fell and he lost a cousin who was in the building. When he tried to leave the city, all the bridges were closed off and people were running helter skelter in every direction. Las officials didn't know who to protect and where the threat was coming from. No one trusted anyone, yet everyone helped complete strangers to get to safety.

The only reason I relive all of this is because... it's come to a close. I remember my grandmother relating to me the events of Pearl Harbor. She told me that every generation would experience a moment in their life where the world as they've come to know it will change drastically because of war. She told me, "You will remember everything about the moment when you heard the news that war has been declared." War was declared and one man was on everyone's hit-list because of the hate that he spread and for nearly 10 years the entire world's focus has been on attaining this man. And now he's dead. So, where does that leave us? Can we finally move on? Can healing take place in the lives of those children who lost both parents for reasons they don't yet understand? Will the politicians finally stop pointing fingers for political gain? What have we learned from any of this? I don't know the point of this post. All I know is that the man that held all the answers is dead... what is the goal now? Hopefully it's peace, but is peace really possible? I guess we'll find out with the next generation.

Babies on my Mind

2011-04-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

It's interesting. I am so baby hungry. Truth be told, I've been baby hungry since Baby Boy was four or five months old. Motherhood is a complicated thing... beyond that "birth-motherhood" is an even more complicated thing. As a birthmother, you take joy and pride in your creation... the most beautiful creation you've ever accomplished... but you observe from a distance. My eyes are watering right now. I can't describe in words what my heart feels. My son is beautiful and perfect, but he is no longer mine. To be honest, I'm surprised by these feelings. And, I think... I know I've mentioned it in previous posts that... when these feelings hit is anyone's guess. And these feelings are hitting me again and they've come out of nowhere.

This time isn't like the last time these feelings struck. The last time they hit, the emotion was easy to recognize because it was pure sorrow mixed with quiet reflection. This time... it's confusing. I want a baby really bad. But, not just to have a baby. I'm not taking on, or promoting, the ideology that if I had a baby my life would be perfect and no longer filled with "the stuff of life" that makes life sometimes difficult to swallow. A baby is not a fix all. I want a baby because I want to start my family. There are children that are meant to be with me and I want to get them here. Just as Baby Boy was not meant to be with me... there are children who are meant to be with me and I am so excited to meet them and be with them. It's just a matter of timing. I've never been good with my life's timing and I've learned that a lot of it is based on patience... and I'm more patient now than I used to be. But patience is still hard to digest when you know the beauty that is to come.

I am in love with an amazing man and he is in love with me and we often talk about our future family and how excited we are to meet our children. He is wonderful. This is the same Mango I've always talked about. I am a lucky girl to know his love. Together, he and I are going to create a beautiful family... but, it's going to take some time and patience to get there. We are both working on our individual stuff with a united front for a common goal. That common goal is marriage to each other and it's going to take some time and that is fine. I've got time. I don't know what the common thread of this post is. I've just been sitting in my office at work today and the only thing I can think about is my future family.

I stood at the window and let the warmth of the sun flood in upon me and it was wonderful; it was the first solid stream of sun Utah's had for weeks now and it was greatly appreciated. And as I stood there, I imagined this little girl with long hair and she is shy and her presence is like the warmth of a ray of sun... peaceful, enveloping, and quiet. And... it sounds crazy, but that little girl is mine. She's mine. I can't describe how I know this, but I do and I can't wait to meet her. It's going to take some time and that is fine. I can be patient when I know that the outcome is as beautiful as the sun. I am baby hungry, but this time I'm going to do it right.

It's Been Like... Forever Since I Last Posted...

2011-03-14T10:41:00.000-07:00

It's been so long since I've posted anything. A quick recap of the last couple of months. I turned 26 in February. The love of my life turned 26 the beginning of this month (I know, I'm a cougar apparently) and his beautiful pixie-of-a-daughter turned 6 a couple days later. There have been lots of birthdays. For those of you who didn't know, and why would you because it's been decades since I last posted, Mango and I are dating again. If only the simple words of that sentance could convey the immense joy that feels my heart at that statement. I love my Mango and I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have him in my life. My baby boy is thriving. He's still chunkier than ever, though now that he is moving and walking and terrorizing the house and turning it on end and keeping his mother on her toes with cleaning after him, his chunk is now leaning out. His smile is still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I can still hear his laugh in my head. I am grateful to his parents for sending me pictures and giving me updates. I love getting the texts that his mom sends me every now and then letting me know how everyone is on their end. I am a blessed woman.

I am now an official member of a roller derby league. I am a member of the Happy Valley Derby Darlins, which is a brand new league. We have had about 5 practices is all and I am having a blast with it! It's nice to be surrounded with girls that like to play as rough as the boys, it makes you feel normal. We have our first fundraiser coming up at the end of this month and I'm freaking out trying to come up with an idea as to little knicknacks I can make to sell at the fundraiser. I think I'm going to make little fridge magnets. You know the ones that are a clear marble like... thing with cute pictures underneath? Yeah, how is that for a description...? That perfecetly explains how crafty I am not. Anyway, I went to this craft store and found some cute images I can use as the magnet picture, they are Steam Punk style and I love that style. It's an awesome style and one that I think will be interesting to the type of clientele that will frequent the fundraiser. Is this post thrilling for you? haha... wow, my life has slowed down greatly it feels like even though I swear I'm never home anymore.

I have started hcg again. Today is my second day on the 500 calorie diet and I must say I feel more capable this time around. Before, I felt like I obsessed over the food that I couldn't have, but now... I don't feel like I have that obsession anymore and that's a liberating thing. Then again, I am only 2 days into it, and I'm doing a 40 day cycle, so will see what song I'll be singing in 20 days. Mango is supporting me in this. In fact, he is going off of sugar... which is hard core for this man who has an addiction to pop tarts. I love him. I'm doing this with Beauty, so we are doing it together which helps, so that we can be a support to one another. My dear friend whom I have not mentioned yet in this blog... we'll call him Voodoo-Man because he knows things he shouldn't, haha, he is also supporting me and Beauty, as he is also saying goodbye to sugar for the time that we are doing this. I know amazing people. I am so lucky to have such supportive people in my life.

I don't know what road this blog is going to take. I feel like it's only natural that the blog shift to something else, which is why I haven't written in so long. For the longest time, this blog has been about my journey through open adoption and my role as a birth mother. While I will always be a birth mother, I am not going to let that role define my life... that role has blessed my life, but as all birth mothers come to understand, I would imagine, at some point that title no longer defines you the way that it has up until in no longer does. It's not a negative thing, but for however long you need it to, that is your identity because you are living it. I feel like I have entered a new place now and that's what is supposed to happen. So, I can't promise that my posts from here on out will have anything to do with Open Adoption. If you are here reading this blog simply for that fact, then I apologize to disappoint you. Thank you for being a part of that part of my life and I hope you stay tuned to see where I go next because, all in all, life is a process of steps to be taken and the scenery changes as you progress and sometimes you'll visit the places you've already been because you miss them...

I used to be afraid of where it was that I was going, but I'm not anymore and I look forward to see what comes next. That's a place that we all need to get to. So, I hope you stick around and come along for the ride because I've appreciated your presence thus far.

Feeling the Need to Speak

2011-01-18T13:27:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt like there is something inside of you that needs to speak... but you don't know what it is you need to say? I feel that way right now. Everything is beautiful in my life right now. It's like needing to take a breath when your lungs are already full of the previous breath; you aren't going to die from lack of oxygen, but the need to breathe is still there. It's bizarre. That's the best way I can describe what I feel right now, the need to speak but not knowing what for and therfore not knowing what to say.

It's been exactly seven minutes from the moment I typed that last sentence and I don't know what to say, but something needs to be said. This is maddening and yet I'm completely calm. I think the need to speak comes from the fact that it's harder to live life Red than it is to simply say, "From here on out, I'm going to live bravely and work to conquer my fears." It's easy to say those words, but it's harder to stay in place when all you want to do is run... or casually vacate the area that is causing so much apprehension, without anyone noticing your leaving.

I went to the gym last night with my brother. He is training to participate in Tough Guy and he wants me to train with him. Ideally I would train with him to participate in the event myself, but... I have other dreams I'm focusing on right now, so I just want to work out with him because he knows his stuff and is a good trainer. I'm happy that I get to work out with him because not only is it beneficial, but it will give me the opportunity to spend more time with my brother.

Last night I did an hour of cardio, simple cardio, so that he could get a feel for where I was at physically, so we know where to start. Not even 10 minutes into the work out, I was feeling extremely anxious and not wanting to continue and desperately wanting to leave. It wasn't that I thought I was going to die because I couldn't physically follow through with the workout itself. It was that I couldn't stop concentrating and focusing on all the people around me. There were so many people... everywhere. I kept darting my gaze around the gym and I could not... I could not what? I could not concentrate on myself because I was scared of all the people surrounding me.

My brother picked up on my nerves and talked me through them before he went to work out himself. I was grateful to him. After he left it was hard to not feel anxious still, but I tried to zone out to what was surrounding me. I even continued my workout with my eyes closed, as if closing my eyes would erase all the other people surrounding me. It didn't work.

And then this girl on the treadmill next to me named Melissa started talking to me. She asked how long I'd been coming to the gym and I told her this was my first time to this particular gym. She kept talking to me. She is there to get into better shape because she and her husband want to start trying for children. I told her that I usually weight train and am not a fan of cardio. I also told her about Baby Boy. She was so intrigued that I had placed him for adoption that she started asking questions about adoption and that's when it happened, that's when I finally chilled out. It was nice to be able to focus on something familiar. I talked to her for about 15 minutes about adoption until she was done with her workout.

When she left I was much calmer and I no longer noticed the people around me. Don't get me wrong, they were still there, but I no longer cared. I finally started focusing on why it was that I was there.

I want a family. I'm ready to start my family. I've found the man with whom I am going to build my family and my future with. He is wonderful and I love him and he loves me and we are excited for our future together. He is the same wonderful Mango I've spoken of before. I focused on him and I focused on our future and I focused on what kind of mother I want to be; and that woman is fearless. I should explain my interpretation of that word. Fearlesness to me is not the absence of fear itself, rather it's the presence of fear and still choosing to live your life out loud despite being surrounded by the things that you are afraid of. Fearlesness is choosing to live life especially when in the midst of the unknown.

That's the woman I want to be. That's the woman I'm learning to become. That's the kind of mother I want to be, and the kind of wife I know I can become. But, it's not just for my future family that I want to be that woman. Mostly, it's for me. I deserve to be that woman. John Lennon spoke about love being the driving force to overcome fear. He said, "There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life."

I realized last night that I did not go through everything life has thrown at me just to end up defeated and afraid. I've survived it and now it's time to live. To live is to love and I'm loved and in love. My greatest ability is to love. I can be the woman I want to become because of my ability to love. I've got this. It's in my grasp. All I need to do is take off running with it, because only then can I fly. Are these words too brave for me? Absolutely not. I've got this.

Rubix Cube Human

2011-01-04T19:46:00.000-08:00

The following is a poem I found while looking through some old papers. It's a poem I wrote while I was dating Baby Daddy and it's extremely revealing into who I was at that time. A lot has changed since then and I'm glad for the change. I'm not proud of the woman I used to be, but I'm proud of the woman I'm becoming.

Chameleon

The many sides of me
Aren't so easy to see, but
I can be whatever
You need. A chameleon
Posing as a civilian- I'm
The one
And the million.
Heavenly irreverent,
I draw you in because
I'm your sin.
I'm charmingly disarming,
But it's not a game and
You are not my toy,
Boy. I do
not deceive-
So, believe me-
All the different parts of me are
My reality.
Fold and re-mold me,
You can even tear me
As long as you repair me.
I would bleed just to be
What it is you'd like.

Copyright: Other Mother

The Color of 2011

2011-01-01T22:57:00.001-08:00

For the last couple of months, I've been thinking about what color I want 2011 to emulate. This is important to me because this color will set the entire tone for the year. I've decided to go with the color red. 2010 was a year of accepting and moving forward in a natual rhythm; nothing forced and so it only seemed natural that last year's color was blue, which is the color of the ocean and water. You cannot control the flow of water, it happenes naturally and that is what I wanted for 2010.

I'm excited for 2011 and when I think about excitement I think about the color red. Red symbolizes excitement, energy, passion, love, strength, and power. Red symbolizes anything intense and passionate. That's what 2011 is going to be for me. Anything I set my mind to in 2011 I'm going to accomplish and I'm going to accomplish it with passion and excitement.

Red is bold and brazen. "Brazen", that's an interesting word. It usually caries along with it a negative connotation, like a contemptuous kind of boldness. But I like that word... brazen. To me it means something purposefully done; something done in a manner suggesting that it was meant to be done, regardless of the outcome; like taking a chance on something that is important to you, even though all the odds are stacked against you, and everyone tells you that it's impossible, but you do it anyway because you've got to at least try. How else will you know how cold the water is unless you jump in? Sure, you can tiptoe in, but that isn't always beneficial. To tip-toe is to prolong what is inevitable. I doubt I'm making any sense right now.

Red is brave and what I need in my life right now is a little bravery. Blue was the transition in to the unknown and red is the bravery to see me though to what's on the other side. Red is beautiful and bold and life needs to be lived boldly... I've learned that a life lived any other way than brave is a life empty of life. I'm ready live boldly now.

Inspiration

2011-01-01T22:39:00.000-08:00

Last year was a year of transition and growth and slow awakening. And through all of that I learned what it is I want to do. I want to be the catalyst to affect change in young women who are in a vulnerable spot in life and at a cross-roads.

It's hard to be a girl and I've done just about everything wrong that there is to do wrong and I know what it's like to not have a clue as to who you are or the good that you are capable of doing. I know what it's like to feel unworthy of love. I know what it's like to want so badly to be accepted that you will lose your identity in order to become who it is that other's want you to become in order for you to "belong". I know what it's like to feel like you are being buried in confusion and not able to claw your way to the top... it's all head noise; you are desperately seeking oqygen only you can't make it out of the ground that is pounding down upon you. Head noise telling you that you aren't good enough, pretty enough, worthy enough, that you aren't loveable, that "if you were something other than what you are then you would be great, but you aren't so you are worthless", and that you don't deserve happiness because of the horrible things you've done. It's horrible head noise.

My mission is to teach girls experiencing all of the horrible head noise that they are worthwhile and that they don't need to be who other's want them to be in order to be deserving of love and happiness because their individual identity is sacred and no one should make them feel otherwise. I want them to know that the only person they need to worry about "belonging" with is themselves because insecurity comes from not knowing who you are or fighting against who it is you want to become, rather than who the voices say you should be.

I want them to know that love will come to them and that love accepts them and they don't have to change themselves in order to be accepted. I want them to know that their top priority is to love themselves before they let anyone else who isn't worthy of them love them. I want them to know that once they love and accept themselves that the other stuff will naturally fall in to place, they'll know who they are and they'll recognize their self worth and they won't let those who don't deserve their love abuse their love. I want them to know that anyone who tells them that they aren't good enough, pretty enough, worthy enough, loveable or deserving of love, undeserving of happiness, or just shy of greatness... that those people don't deserve their love. It's hard to be a girl, this is something I know, and if my story can help some girl recognize the lies in the head noise so that she can appreciate herslef and love herself, then that's all that matters.

I'm excited about 2011. I feel like I have been given insight to the direction I'm supposed to take and I can't wait to figure it all out. I can't wait to see what happens this year.

The Holidays

2011-01-01T21:43:00.000-08:00

I haven't written anything for the longest time. The holidays have all come and gone and a new year is officially here and I still don't know how I feel about any of it. It's confusing. I didn't know what to expect this year with Thanksgiving, Christmas, or the New Year. Last year, rather 2009, everything was still so fresh from my baby boy's adoption that Thnaksgiving was a blur. I hardly remember it, that could be because of the pain medication I was religiously taking. Truth be told, I didn't want to be aware of Thanksgiving 2009 and I was extremely thankful for my pain meds. I'm ashamed to say that, but if this blog is anything, it's honest. My baby was born November 13, 2009 and a week or 2 later I was sitting at a table surrounded by family and eating turkey and I don't remember any of it, all I remember is that I was empty. I no longer had a child inside me and I was cold. And then Christmas came.

Christmas 2009 was even colder and I was surrounded by loved ones. My oldest sister and her husband literally took me in and welcomed me in to their home so that I wouldn't have to be alone at my apartment and I'm eternally grateful to them for that kindness. That was a spiritual Christmas for me and that was the first time in a long time that I actually felt safe... I remember that feeling very well. As a child I was obsessed with Christmas trees, but Christmas 2009 my obsession became... I sat in the livingroom every night till extremely late and I just stared at my sister's beautifully decorated Christmas tree and I wished that I was holding my son and sharing that moment with him and the longer I stared at that tree the easier it was to imagine him there with me and I never wanted to look away, afraid that the I wouldn't feel him in my arms anymore. Christmas 2009 came and went and then the New Year came.

The year 2010 came and I welcomed it eagerly, desperately seeking a new beginning and I've learned so much. I am of the opinion that 2010 was a refining year and a year of transition, transition into what, I know not, but I've got this feeling that it was in preparation for 2011 and I'm excited for 2011. The beginning of 2010 was tenuous. I had to get a grip on who it was I thought I was and I had no clue who that was quite frnakly but I knew that she was strong and willing to experience the transition and so I went with the flow. The theme color for 2010 was blue which represents water and fluidity of life and I chose that color specifically so that I would be reminded to let life happen. You can't control water, and for the most part you can't control life and I wasn't going to try to control it anymore. Spring and Summer of 2010 were beautiful and warm and full of progression and surprises... beautiful surprises. And before I knew it, Autumn came and with it... more surprises, thought these ones not beautiful or comfortable, but full of valuable lessons and potential for growth if I didn't push them away. And then Thanksgiving came.

Thanksgiving 2010... I didn't know what to expect. It was hard to be around my family because I want a family. My sibling's families are beautiful and I am blessed to know such beauty and love. It's interesting. Before I had Baby Boy it was difficult to go to family functions because I wanted what my siblings had, a family of my own, only I didn't have it and so to be surrounded by what I dreamed of but hadn't achieved was painful beyond words. And Thanksgiving 2010, again, I found myself surrounded by my wonderful sublings and their beautiful families and again, I desperately wished I had a family of my own; only this time, I felt the loss in a deeper way, a loss of knowing my son and his perfection and knowing that I couldn't offer him what he deserved... Thanksgiving was hard and I didn't expect that.

The next month passed within a moment and Christmas was here and... I... was having a hard time preparing myself to, again, be surrounded by my siblings and their gorgeous families. I sound horrible saying all of this. Please, don't for one second think that I feel resentment towards my family because I don't, I love them all dearly and would do anything for them. And that's the point I'm trying to make, I didn't expect any of these feelings to be present for the Holiday season, but they were and they were more intense than I ever thought possible... it's confusing.

And here we are, 2011 is now here and I am excited and scared at the same time. Scared might be the wrong word, perhaps apprehensive is the correct word. And yet, I feel more in control of myself going in to 2011 than I did in 2010. When 2010 came around I was barely existing. And now 2011 is here and I feel like I'm... ready to live again. I'm learning about myself and who I am. Not so much who I want to be in the sense of who I think people want me to be, but I'm learning to embrace and love the me that is me. And in case you are wondering who that is, she is a girl who is meant to shake things up which can be uncomfortable, but that's the point. Trials are meant to stretch us to the point where we can accept change in to our lives. Trials grow us for change. It's beautiful. Difficult, but beautiful and well worth the discomfort. I'm ready for it.

I love you all. Thank you for your continued support. Let's learn and grow. Let's make 2011 beautiful.

Peace

2010-12-07T21:54:00.000-08:00

My heart is full tonight. One year ago I didn't think I would make it to this moment. And, I did. It's a moment of calm that's been a long time coming and it is full of reflection and memory. The night is quiet and my lamp is softly bright and my thoughts surround my baby tonight. He is beautiful. He is healthy. He is happy. He is Joy personified. He is safe. He is loved. His smile... is Heaven. His laugh is music to my soul. I miss him so much, but it's different now; it's survivable now. I am blessed to be his birthmother. I am blessed to have known such perfection in a world filled with sorrow. My baby boy's smile is Joy. In a world of sorrow, he is Joy. This moment is beautiful. To those of you reading this who are birthmothers, birthfathers, or first families- or anyone experiencing sorrow for that matter- who are wondering if you will ever feel peace again, rest assured Peace will come and it will be a quiet moment of reflection. i promise, in time, it will come.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-11-15T10:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Sweetheart,

You are now one year old. I can't believe that a year has already gone by. You share the same birth date with your adoptive mother and yesterday my family was invited to a birthday celebration for both you and your mom. It was a beautiful day and one I won't forget. You were a little under the weather and I could tell that your ear was hurting because you kept tugging on it, but you were still such a good baby. You are so good natured. You were still laughing and smiling. I got to cuddle you and give you a bottle. You are such a big boy! Your thighs are so roley-poley! Your cheeks were beautifully rosey and your voice is heavenly. I saw your sister hold you and you went to her naturally and I love that you love your sister. She loves you too, so very much. And, as for your brother, he thinks you are the funniest little guy in the world. You were making him laugh so hard and I can tell that the two of you are best friends. Seeing you with your family brought so much joy to my heart. What a beautiful and joyous day! A beautiful memory. You look so much like your daddy. You are a handsome little guy. You still don't have that much of a neck, but I love that you are so squishy. And as for your arms, well, I can tell they are thinning out a bit, but they are still very much deliciously plump. You are perfection. Everything about you exudes light. Even when you aren't your "best" self, you're light shines beautifully bright. I love you more than you will ever know, my darling. My mother and sisters were able to hold you as well and they adore you. They were beside themselves with your perfection. You are joy, personified. Child of my heart, you are loved by more people then you will ever remember. We love you for eternity.

Love,

your birth mother

Imprint

2010-11-12T21:53:00.000-08:00

One year ago I took my lunch from work and went to a doctor's appointment. I was examined and all my doctor said was, "My dear. Call your husband. You're having a baby." I stared at him blankly and told him (for the fifth time) that I'm not married. He sheepishly looked at me and asked if I drove myself to the appointment and I told him I had driven myself. He asked me who I planned to have come to the hospital with me and I told him my mother. "Well then," he said, "best call your mother."

I called my work first and I told the girl in billing who answered the phone, "I'm going to have a baby." She laughed at me and jokingly replied, "Really?! I wondered why your belly's grown so much the last little while." I laughed because it was funny and then I told her, "No. I mean today. I'm going to have a baby today. I have to go straight to the hospital now." Billing girl started freaking out on the phone. She got my boss out of mediation and they asked me what I still needied to complete at work and I told them what was still pending. I was on the phone for about 10 minutes tying up loose ends and then I walked out to the waiting room and I called my mom. She headed down immediately.

I wasn't feeling any labor pains because of my hospital visit the night before (11-11-2009) where I was found to be having false labor. That pain was horrific. I had felt it the entire day at the office. It was in my back. I couldn't even stand up straight and my boss was convinced I was in labor then, but I refused to leave to go get checked because I needed the pay check. That night as I tried to relax in bed, I couldn't relax and the pain progressively got worse so I drove myself to the hospital, was checked and was told it was false labor but the nurse gave me a BIG shot of morphine in my hip that left me incapable of driving. I called my sister and her husband to see if they could come pick me up at the hospital and take me home. They did and I slept real good for the first time in 9 months. No worries. No concern about what was coming. No endless circle of thought in my head. No constant shifting from side to side to get comfortable. No restless dreaming. No waking up multiple times in the middle of the night due to back pain. Just... sleep. I drove myself to work the next day and I was completely calm at work even though around me chaos was erupting in every case that called in that day.

I guess that's why I wasn't feeling labor one year ago today when I drove myself to my doctor's appointment, is because that morphine was... awesome. I admitted myself to the hospital. I had called in only 3 weeks before to pre-register. I had my overnight bag in the car from the previous night's hospital adventure. I waited in the hospital bed, hooked up to every machine imaginable, and listened to my baby on the machines. He was so active. I couldn't stop laughing at his activity inside me and I could feel all of it powerfully. I watched my belly as he tossed and turned and I could see his movement. His heart beat was beautiful and soothing. I was given an epidural. My water broke and I didn't feel anything. I was focused on my babies heart beat and movement.

Time passed slowly and I was getting restless from just laying in bed. I found that as I layed there, I had lots of time to think about what was coming my way and I thought I would go insane with the thoughts. My mom and sister would kind of laugh because I would let out a sound of frustration and then wrap my fingers in my hair and tug... I was restless and I wanted to get up... I wanted to be anywhere but there doing what I was doing. But, I listened to my babies heart beat and his movement and it was calming.

Sixteen hours after I was admited to the hospital (now Friday November 13, 2009), I was prepped for C-section. I was wheeled into the surgical room and it was cold. They gave me something in my IV that made the room feel even colder. I was scared and I couldn't stop shaking. My mom was rubbing my cheeks in her hand and telling me to calm my body, but I was scared because within minutes my baby would be here and then within a couple days' time he would be gone and I wasn't ready for that. I kept shaking, trying to will my body to soothe, only it couldn't. My teeth started to chatterand the shaking became debilitating. And then I felt this sensation like a balloon was being lifted from my abdomen and then I heard a tiny cry.

My doctor wiped my baby off and held him over the divider and said, "There's the little trouble maker," as he laughed at my baby's newness. My baby boy was crying and the sound pierced the air like music that is written for only a mother's soul to comprehend. I laughed at his newness. He was perfection. My mom went with the nurse to clean him up and when she brought him back, he was wrapped like a peanut in a white blanket. She held him close to my face and I stopped shaking as I took in a deep breath of him. His scent was warm. I will never forget that moment. I will never forget his face the first time I saw it. Despite the fact that I was drugged beyond comprehension with pain meds for the delivery, I will never forget the first cry my baby made or the first time I saw his face. The memory of him has imprinted itself upon my heart.

It's been a LONG time...

2010-11-11T13:57:00.000-08:00

Holy crow, I didn't realize how much time had passed since I last blogged. It's been about a month now which is crazy.

The biggest to do in my life this last month is that I started a belly dance class that took place on Wednesday evenings. It is Tribal Fusion belly dance which is amazing. I've been trying to find a Tribal Fusion class for the last year and couldn't find any unless they were located in the county north of where I live which isn't a horrible drive unless it's rush hour which is when I would be driving to make it to the classes up north. And then, out of nowhere, news of a class in my county literally came out of the blue. Furthermore, it's taught by a girl that I went to high school with.

The class has been amazing and I've had a blast. It ended last week. I wish it would have gone longer because it was so much fun. Last weekend on Saturday, a city near where I live hosted the Middle Eastern Dance Fest which was filled with different dancing groups in the county that I live in that are taught by members of a massive belly dancing troupe. It was awesome! And, my group killed it! We were an extremely small group, only 4 people, and so there was no way to fudge moves and not be seen. I had so much fun and my sister recorded it. The only sad thing was that her camera shut off 3 minutes into the dance right before we sped up and it really took off.

When we were on stage and the music started and we started moving our hips to the beep, all I could think about was, "holy crap! I'm shaking my hips at the audience!" That was the first 30 seconds or so of the song and then I don't remember anything accept I kept thinking, "I'm dancing. On a stage. On stage in front of people, I dance." And I felt a lot like Bob in the movie "What About Bob" when he was sailing on a boat for the first time, only he wasn't really sailing, he was strapped to the mast. Only, I was "dancing". The moves we did were extremely basic. We kept it extremely simple, but I had so much fun.

If you had asked me one year ago if I would ever consider performing ANYTHING, let alone dancing, in front of a large audience I would have started blushing simply at the suggestion of it. But, I did it and I want to do it again. I tried this class just to see if it was something I would even like to begin with; I always thought I would like belly dancing, but liking the idea of something and then actually liking "doing" something are two completely different things. I'm addicted to belly dance. It doesn't matter what song is playing and what genre that song fits in to, I am constantly imagining in my mind how I can belly dance to it. I can't wait to take another class.

Below, I have embeded the song that we danced to. Only the version we danced to was about 4.5 minutes, not the 6 minutes in the video below. It's a beautiful song and it's Niyaz. It's called "Minara". Hope you enjoy.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-10-15T14:09:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

As of a couple days ago, you are now officially 11 months old. Time is such an interesting thing. It goes the fastest when you want it to slow down, and never seems to end when you want it to speed up. I wish that I could have been pregnant with you longer, but it went by so fast. I wish that we could have had more time with each other in the hospital, but again, it was a blur. And now you are 11 months old and I wish you were still a newborn infant, yet I can't wait to witness you grow from afar. There is so much that I've missed and perhaps that is why time seems to have flown past me. Maybe since I don't see you on a daily basis, I'm not familiar with how familiar you would be to me if I did spend every day with you.

Every single moment of your life is precous to me. From the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, to the moment you are reading this letter when you first read it... and every time after that you choose to read it. Your life is a gift and it should be lived that way every single day. You are the joy of my spirit. You are the sense in a life that doesn't always make sense. You are a blessing to all those who know you and will know you. I love you with all that I am Baby Boy. You are the child of my heart and I will always cherish you.

Love,

your birth mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-10-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

I believe in God and I know He loves me; regardless of how stubborn I can be, I know that my Heavenly Father loves me. God's hand is in all things. He can make miracles out of sorrow and He can help us believe in Hope when we no longer believe in anything and Hope is Love and Love is Christ. In the depths of our sorrow, He is the light. I am grateful to Him for giving me you. I love you Baby Boy and I always will.

Love,

your birth mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-10-06T09:34:00.001-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

You aren't even 11 months old yet and you are already taking steps! You are a brave little guy and I am so proud of you. Your mother says that you will take 2 or 3 steps and them fally down on your bottom; thank goodness for those padded diapers! Yesterday, though, you too 13 steps! I can hardly believe it. Your mother is going to get some pictures for me so that I can see it for myself. You are growing up so fast darling and I love you for eternity. I am so proud of you, but do me one favor will you? Slow down on the growing business, you are my little baby boy and I know everybody has to grow up, but you can ease up on the growing business, if you'd like, I won't mind. Before you know it, you are going to be running around and tearing up the house with your brother and sister and then you'll be going to school! Eek.. I need to stop thinking of such things. You may be walking already, and school may be around the corner, but for right now you are my baby boy and I will always love you, child of my heart.

Love,

your birth mother

This is Powerful

2010-09-30T11:20:00.001-07:00

Story of Gianna Jessen

-Survived despite her mother's attempts to terminate her life-

2010-09-22T09:05:00.000-07:00

My baby boy turns 1 year in two months. It's crazy to me that so much time has passed and yet his scent is very much still real from those few precious days we spent in the hospital together. I've been thinking about him a lot lately. Part of me feels... like I'm on the transition of disconnecting and I am scared to death to do that. I can't explain why because it doesn't make sense and I know that I've probably talked about this in a recent post. When you are a birthmother, there is a very small piece of you that hides deep down inside your soul that lurks and brews and festers and you know that it's there but you ar afraid to acknowledge it's presence because what it whispers to your heart late at night is horrifying. Those whispers that keep you from sleeping... are a nightmare all their own. I don't mean to be dramatic. The whisper that I've never given room to grow and have kept hidden in the recesses of my being is that I've abandoned my son. I know what you're thinking, "Other Mother, that is not rational thought." And no one knows this more than I do. I didn't dumpster ditch my baby... I didn't abandon him, but I left him. I walked (rather, I was pushed in a wheel chair) away from my baby. I left him in the hospital. And, though I know that amazing people were waiting for him and I've got the pictures of them first meeting him... I still left him. How do I adjust to that knowledge? How am I supposed to live with that understanding? Well, for a long time, I've ignored the whispers.
When I think of my son now, it doesn't hurt the way it used to. It hurts differently. It's not this aching where every nerve is threatening to explode with his memory. Instead, it's like... the pain of memory itself. I miss him- desperately, I miss him- but, I am okay. Before, it hurt to breathe when I would think of him because his absence filled every aspect of my life. I would talk about him to people, but it was in a safe, ambiguous way. I can now talk openly about him with complete honesty and exposure of my soul and it hurts still, but I can talk about him... really talk about him. And, that's why I know the disconnect is close and in order to accept that disconnect into my life and fully move forward I need to allow the dark whispers to be heard by me. And that's what is scary, is by moving on and allowing the disconnect to occur... feels like a whole new form of abandonment. Does it ever end? I imagine that it does not. I imagine that with my next pregnancy, that I can be able to expect a lot of these same feelings, but I also imagine that with each new step the pain also changes. It really is like death. That's the only way I can explain this loss. When you lose someone you love deeply to death, you mourn their loss and the process of grieving has very specific "guidelines", so to speak. The thing about grief is it can hit you out of nowhere... you think you've graduated to the next step and a week later, or a month, or 10 years later, you find that you are right back where you started... accepting what has happened. Technically "acceptance" is the "final" stage, but I think that all acceptance really is, is the beginning of the cycle all over again... you learn to accept and you transition into your new stage in life and then something happens to bring back all the memories and before you know it you are right back where you started... denying that something is wrong and closing off to people, bargaining with something unknown to you for something bigger than you to occur, drowning in a sorrow that you feel will swallow you whole... or my personal favorite, raging- raging at anything and everything- just to finally "accept" that life as you know it, is what it is, and that it will continue to be what it will be.
I don't mean for this post to be so depressing. To be honest, as I sit here writing, I am in a very zen-like place. But, I know that I need to address the fears that I feel in order to move on to the next place in life and to become stronger and have more faith in myself. It's difficult, but it can be done, and as for my son... he will always be my son. He is the child of my heart, that is something that can't be replaced... it's just that his position in my life changes and becomes better and more sacred with time, like memory.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-09-14T09:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

Yesterday you became 10 months old. You have grown so much and are still a chunky monkey! You have no idea how happy it makes me when I see your rubber-band legs (that's what we, in my family, call cute chunky legs that have rolls in them). Your mother tells me that you are all over the place and getting in to everything and that you're a wuick little guy... I'm sure it can be exhausting for your mom, but news like this makes me laugh with joy. You amaze me. You are leaning so much every day sweetheart and it just comes naturally and that amazes me. You've got some teeth now and your smile still lights up my heart. I love you so much Baby Boy. You are my joy and my peace. You are my everything. I love you child of my heart.

Love,

your birth mother

BirthMom Buds Blog: Spotlight Blogger: Meet Kathryn

2010-09-05T15:43:00.000-07:00

Hello all, I can't believe it is already September! eek... time is traveling by too quickly. Things have been extremely busy in my life. I was promoted and given a raise, holla! And, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I absolutely love my job. Don't get me wrong, I still deal with the crazies on a daily basis, but I can now claim them as "my crazies" as I am the direct assistant to their case. There is so much I want to blog about and I need to sit down to update my blog. One thing I would like to address your attention towards. I was a guest blogger on BirthMom Buds and you can read my post by clicking on the link below. For any of you out there who seriously want an indepth look into a birth mom's heart, BirthMom Buds can offer you that ability and from the perspective of many different birth moms. I hope you enjoy and I miss you all.

BirthMom Buds Blog: Spotlight Blogger: Meet Kathryn

Sincerely,

Other Mother

A Healing Prayer

2010-08-28T22:16:00.000-07:00

A Healing Prayer
-Author Unknown-

I am capable. I am worthwhile.
I am beautiful. I am lovable.
I shall accept both my strengths
and my weaknesses for they are me.

I shall never again believe the lie
that if I make a mistake,
I am a mistake.
My mistakes are the learning tools
that I shall encounter on my journey.

When I learn from my mistakes,
I give them meaning
When I give my mistakes meaning,
I can begin to forgive myself,
I can begin to heal.

I shall not use my mistakes as excuses
to give up on me.
My mistakes are not me.
I shall seek the wisdom to nurture
my heart, mind, body, and soul
so that I may feel more centered.

Providing an energy reserve that allows
me to climb the mountains in my own life,
Providing an energy reserve that allows
me to love and support others
who are climbing a different mountain,
providing an energy reserve that allows
time for friends, play
and the celebration of life.

I shall allow myself to feel capable
so that I may seek excellence.
I shall allow myself to feel sadness
so that joy may return.
I shall allow myself to feel joy
so that I may be revitalized.
I shall allow myself to feel afraid
so that I may find courage.
I shall allow myself to feel alone
so that I may know me.
I shall allow myself to feel beautiful
so that I may feel free.
I shall allow myself to feel lovable
so that the loving may seek me.
I shall allow myself to feel pain
so that I may heal.
I shall allow myself to feel worthy
so that I may fulfill my purpose.

I take responsibility
for creating my own life story
through the choices I have made;
to blame others is to give away
my personal power.

Who will I allow to write
the next chapter of my life?
I shall seek the courage to believe
in a loving God who will
laugh with me in the sunlight or
cry with me in the darkness.
I shall make a small difference on this planet
through the work I do.
When I leave I will have done my share.

I shall live, love, laugh,
and learn on my journey.

Dear God,

2010-08-16T20:39:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I don't understand you. I'd like to but you make it difficult for me to believe the plan you have for me. I know we haven't always been on the best terms and I know that I am stubborn but this couldn't be what you had in store for me. I believe in you and you believe in me too, but I wish that you wouldn't think me so capable to survive the things you put me through, so please, what is it that I'm not seeing? I won't survive another of your lessons, so please God, what is it I'm missing? You've blessed me with a glimpse of your heaven and it's everything I've always wanted but never thought could be mine and then like a thief in the night it's stolen from my sight and I'm left longing for the memory that is oxygen to this suffocation you call life. And I'm tired. Each night in my sleep I am shown the end of my grief and he is beautiful and I remember why all the pain is worth it and then the morning steals away my dreams and my soul decays with each added moment of the day and the heaven that was in my dream seems so far away. And I'm tired and afraid to sleep because when I wake I no longer feel safe in the morning's light. I want my family- those angels you show me in my dreams... if that's the end prize then I will put up my best fight in order to survive, but it'll come at a cost that is too scary to imagine so please, let me feel your heaven again because this world is wrong and hard to belong to. My dreams are in your hands and I'm trying hard to believe in your plan and I may not get each day right, but I'm trying my hardest to find your light in this world's endless night... help me get this right.

Sincerely,

A Birth Mother

Copyright Other Mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-08-13T21:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

Nine months ago you were born on Friday the thirteenth. I never used to be a fan of Friday the thirteenth because it never brought me any luck, until you came in to my life and now this day is a sacred day for me and one I will always honor with reverence. I love you so much. I have been thinking about you all day. I wish that I could bottle up the joy I feel in my heart when I think of you or see your beautiful smile in the pictures your parents send to me; if I could bottle that feeling... there would be no sorrow in the world Baby Boy. When I am sad, all I need to do is think of you and then my heart smiles and I send my thought up in a prayer and ask the good Lord to deliver it to you in the form of a kiss. That way you can feel my love even though you don't remember me. You are angelic. You are perfection. You are joy. You are love. You are my everything. You will always be the child of my heart. I love you Baby Boy.

Love,

your birth mother

2010-08-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been completely aware of how deeply you've hurt someone? It's not a good feeling. I didn't realize how deep the hurt was and where it was coming from, but I now have information that I didn't have before and... no wonder the hurt for this person is so deep. And, mother, I'm not taking on blame that doesn't belong to me... I know when I've done wrong and I've done immense wrong, however I will say for my defense, if I had been given all the information up front and not just hand selected details then... well, I would have been more understanding. And, dear readers, rather than giving you only hand selected details... I'm talking about Mango here. You know what? I have never held on this long to a guy. I am... completely in love with him, even after all the fighting we've been doing. We talked a little bit a couple of days ago and I was given information that I never had before that changed a lot... none of this is going to make any sense at all unless I am completely honest in details and I'm not going to be because the information doesn't just involve me and I am going to respect Mango's privacy.

This is what we are left with. The cold... soul chilling facts. Mango and I will never be together again and that's based on what he wants, not what I want... and I have to live with that. I can't force him into a relationship with me and I never would take him on those terms... I only ever wanted him willingly. I still love him and I believe that he still loves me, we are both just... living with a lot of hurt and can't make it work between us. And it hurts a lot. He is under the impression that I will forget about in a days time... he's got a lot of anger in him right now, but I don't believe that it is pure anger, I know that it stems from hurt... we all emote hurt differently. Some of us pretend that nothing is wrong, other's destroy everything in their path, and some hide in bed under their covers vowing to never to step foot in the sunlight again. What Mango doesn't realize is that he is on my mind every second of the day, he is the last thought I think before I fall asleep and he is the one I dream about, and when I rise in the morning, I rise with the sorrow knowing that... all the dreams that Mango and I had about sharing our lives together will never come to fruition... and then I get sick to my stomach knowing that one day he will move on and find a woman that is... not me. And that thought kills me, so essentially, every day- every second of every day- I am mourning the loss of what could have been and still holding on to a sliver of hope... pathetic hope... that I will wake up soon from this awful dream. But, I don't wake up. This is my life.

Families Supporting Adoption Conference 2010

2010-08-01T20:57:00.000-07:00

I have known about this year's FSA conference since January and have been so excited to attend. I went to speak with my boss the beginning of July about getting this past Friday off so that I could attend and she told me that she couldn't risk not having me in the office because another co-worker had already asked for the time off. Needless to say, I was extremely ticked off because the co-worker who was out this last week is never in, in the first place. I used to refer to her as Wednesday-Virus-Girl and now I just refer to her as Infested-Walking-Plague-Woman, seeming as she is never at the office due to all of her various illnesses... every single week. So, I bitterly continued to do my work throughout July while dealing with many other emotional explosions in every aspect of my personal life. This last week, on Tuesday, I went in to my boss and told her, "I completed everything that needs to be done for the week, yesterday, and all my cases are current, I will have the parent time calendars out by Thursday, and I have made sure that there will be phone coverage all day on Friday as well as someone here to assist you in mediatons. I wanted to inform you of this and confirm with you that I will not be in the office on Friday because this adoption conference is something that is very important for me to attend. I need and deserve to go to this conference." She looked at me a little surprised, asked a couple of questions regarding specific deadlines for the week, to which I put her fears to rest as everything that needed to go out went out the previous day and then she said, "Enjoy the conference on Thursday."

I completely enjoyed the conference. I met so many amazing people. I learned so much about every aspect of adoption. I sat in on a Birth-Father panel and listened to men speak about their experience and perspective as a birth father and it was extremely touching. A man on the panel said something that struck me deep inside. He said, "Even though a father doesn't go through the physical changes that a mother does during a pregnancy, inside the father is racing." That was so powerful for me to hear. As a birth mother it is easy to take on the attitude of hatred and disgust towards the one who helped to get her pregnant and I have seen it so many times in various birth mothers that I've come across where they hate the birth father... and every other man they come in contact with, for that matter. In a case such as mine, some would say that I have very right to hate Baby Daddy because of how our relationship ended and the fact that he wasn't there throughout the pregnancy... but, that was my choice. He never knew I was pregnant and maybe that was wrong of me to keep from him. Some birth mothers I've met view the pregnancy as the man's fault. I think that perhaps they forgot that very important lesson in life science that... it takes two to make a baby. I never hated Baby Daddy. I was extremely hurt by him and the hurt I feel has been somewhat damaging to a certain degree... but, I got the best part of him and I feel sorry for him that because of the lifestyle... the very dangerous lifestyle he leads (if he's even alive anymore) he will never know the feeling of holding a child that you created for the first time. I don't hate him. And, I was fully aware of the risk I took every time Baby Daddy and I had relations together. Listening to the birth fathers on the panel helped me to understand the delicacy that comes along with being a birth father. Being a birth father is just as delicate and emotional as being a birth mother.

I also went to a seminar on Infertility that really opened up my eyes. Infertility is not something I will fully be able to comprehend, but it helped me to fully appreciate the couple who adopted Baby Boy. My greatest fear while getting to know families was that whoever I chose would never love my son as much as I did because he wasn't them... if that makes any sence at all. Sitting in this seminar on Infertility, I have a whole new perspective about adoption couples. They love the adoptive child like their own because they have wanted this child for so long and have dreamed about growing their family for so long! I can't imagine the sorrow that comes along with each negative pregnancy test... all their friends who are having children, the snide remarks from people who should keep their nose out of it, "Stop stressing so much and you'll get pregnant," "Just relax and it will happen on it's own," "You should do a clense. I bet that's the problem," "You really want children that bad? Take mine! I'm envious of the time you have on your hands." The insensitivity is enough to drive a person insane, I'm sure! I have so much more love and respect for these couples because their desire to want children and all the pain and hardship and let-downs that they go through... the sorrow that they experience... for girls like me who find themselves in a place they never expected to be, these couples are our angels. These couples are capable of more love than I will ever understand.

I was also able to attend a seminar on Adoption Advocacy. Talk about lighting a fire within your soul! I learned so many amazing ways to advocate for open adoption and I can't wait to start implementing them. Utah is such a perfect place to advocate for adoption, but I am so excited for when I move out to New York to start advocating out there. And, as a birth mother, I have so much to give. I am not afraid to share my story... even though it is riddled with so much sorrow and pain, it is the happiest story of my life. How could I not share my angel and his beginning with others? He saved me. He is my new beginning. He is my... everything. Girls who find themselves in the position I was in 18 months ago deserve to know that they have other options. They deserve to know that they can live and let live and bring so much joy to the world at the same time. As a birth mother, that is my mission and I am so excited to begin.

This conference rejuvinated me. It was like a splash of cold water in the morning after the long and horrifying sleep that July was. I found my spark again and my soul is burning bright with solid light. Open adoption is a gift! It's the chance at a new start for girls who have lost their way in the world and found that they aren't anywhere near where they had dreamed to be as a little girl. It's the gift of life for the child created. More importantly... it's the gift of family to a couple that wants nothing more than to have a child. Open adoption is a blessed gift! And, I am ready to share this message with people who don't know about it. I feel alive again. Good things are coming. I can feel it.

Every Day is the Same so Why Do We Expect a Different Outcome?

2010-07-29T22:51:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been so exhausted that your soul has no words left to speak? As if that makes any sense at all. The only way I can explain it would be... the complete inability to converse with anyone outside of basic, shallow, and meaningless dialogue. In the last 4 days, I've worked 46 hours and I worked over the weekend as well. My boss is giving me more cases at work and I keep taking them because I am looking for every excuse I can find to not have to go home at night because there is nothing to go home to. Come the end of the day... I am so spent that I'm not even capable of... forming words into sentences that carry any weight or importance. I drive to work every morning looking forward to pissing off the clients involved in the cases that I handle because the one thing I am capable of speaking is anger and hurt and so I fight with them and let them know how bad they are screwing up their children's lives for their own selfish vindictive behavior at getting back at one another. I should be careful, otherwise I might lose my job... nah, my boss would never get rid of me, I'm underpaid and overworked... it's a good deal for her.

I am surrounded by divorce every day. Hour after hour I listen to husbands and wives argue about who gets the ice-scraper, or... the blender, but none of them seem to be too concerned over whether or not their 5 year old who is desperately acting out to get their attention and who is being used as collateral in the divorce should get counseling. No... they ignore their angelic 5 year old who is waiting out in the lobby with me listening to her parent's argue over the ice-scraper. And we- me and her- listen to music and color and she talks to me about the two of us turning into unicorns at night and flying away together so that we can be a family and then she tells me, "I wish you were my mother because you laugh at my jokes. You laugh and if you were my mother, we would be happy." And I want to scoop her up into my arms and run away with her and take care of her and protect her against her own parents who are now being restrained by their attorney's from attacking one another. I know what you're thinking, I'm making this all up. But the thing is that I'm not making up any of this. This is what I am surrounded by... all day for 5 days a week, only this last weekend I took a bunch of binders home so that I could research the therapeutic goals of another child in one of my cases and whether or not her parent's are even taking her to therapy. It's disgusting... because they aren't and she is suffering.

And, I think I'm done with it all. The risk, that is. I'm beginning to think that happiness in marriage is all based on luck. Either you find that person that you... like, the two of you work together so well that the teamwork of the marriage occurs naturally- not effortlessly- but naturally enough to where the disagreements... aren't the focus, but the thing that makes your marriage stronger because in the eternal picture, they are just disagreements and can be worked through. If that makes any sense. But how often does that really happen? I want that to happen and I thought that it was and then something happened that I don't even know where to start explaining because it hit me out of nowhere and I'm... I'm defeated. And... my soul is at a loss for words. I don't want to feel this way ever again. I apologize now, perhaps a little too late, but this post... it's going to be effing depressing, but I have to get these... I have to get this out.

I have lost too many people in my life to risk opening up anymore. And I give up. It's not just a matter of losing people either. Losing loved ones is a tragedy, but what you never expect is the piece of yourself you lose along with that loved one... you never see that coming, no matter how often it happens. Before you know it, there isn't anything left of you to lose... you're just a shell. What happens when that shell breaks? That's what scares me the most. I don't know that answer and I don't want to find out what that answer is, but I feel it's close and so I choose to no longer open up. And, please... please don't offer me words of encouragement or words of wisdom because I'm not looking for that. I just... I need to protect myself. I don't trust too many people, but I want to, but... I keep learning over and over again that more often than not... people don't deserve your trust... they don't know how delicate it is and they... don't know how delicate a thing trust is and so I'm done. I'm done offering my trust, hoping it won't be shattered... just to have it trampled on and I think this is a good thing. I've thought about it a lot and I will be fine alone. I'll be fine alone. I think it's safer that way.

Blue by Leigh Nash

2010-07-28T08:55:00.000-07:00

Everything is green.
Everyone is blue,
And me too.
Be careful for what you dream
'Cos my dream was you
And you came true.
I tried to know you,
But to know you is to be blue.
And I'm blue.
And I'm blue.
I'll say goodbye to me.
I'll say goodbye to you
'Cos I can't move.
The world won't bend you know.
For you to see the love
Is worth all the trouble.
I tried to know you.
But to know you is to be blue
And I'm blue.
And I'm blue.
There is a dream that I can't fit in.
There is a dream that I can't fit in.
A lead that I can't fill-
All of my hopes have been diminished-
You're not having it and
I'm trying to give.
I tried to know you.
But to know you is to be blue.
I said goodbye
But I'm still in love with you.
And I'm blue.
And I'm blue.

The Emerald City

2010-07-21T21:50:00.000-07:00

When I was a child my favorite movie was The Wizard of Oz. I remember being five years old and telling my mom that she was wrong when she named me my name because I was supposed to be named Dorothy and I remember pleading with her to change my name and she always told me the same thing, "Other Mother, when you are older, if you feel the same way then you can change your name."

I remember an incident at a shoe store with my mom when I was the tender age of six. I had my heart set on this pair of red high heels but my mom refused to buy them for me. They were beautiful and I wanted them... no, it was more of a need. I needed these red heels. My mom would not budge and I had a total melt down. I used to be jealous of people who were born in the month of May - for the longest time I was jealous of people born in the month of May because their gem stone is the emerald. If you couldn't tell by now, I've had an unhealthy fascination with Dorothy and her adventure(s) in the Land of Oz for quite some time.

I lived in Missouri for three years of my childhood and I loved it out there because it was so green. Humid, but so very green. I felt as though that was the closest to the Emerald City that I would ever get because I was surrounded by green and, as sickly fascinated by the World of Oz as I was, I was no dumby- I knew there was no such place made entirely of emerald, but all the same I still deeply wished there was. There were so many trees around where we lived and they were huge adult trees... in fact, I remember calling them Grandpa trees because they were bigger than adult trees and I loved to climb them. My family is Mormon and during the time we lived in Missouri... how should I put this? Mormons and Baptists, for whatever reason, do not get along and we were surrounded by Baptists. My first grade teacher was Baptist and she hated me... and I'm not exaggerating when I say this. She always made degrading comments towards me. She would say things like, "Disgraceful child! No wonder you're wild, you filthy Mormon." And she often times called me the Heathen Mormon from Utah in front of the entire class and would make me stand in the corner as she taught the class about the rebel Mormons that settled the heathen state of Utah and how I must be punished and humiliated because I don't believe in Christ.

I wish I was making this up, but I'm not. It's horrifying to know that people really do hate in the name of religion, but it exists and I've experienced it first hand. I was hardly ever allowed to play at recess because I could never do right by Mrs. Allenbaugh (and just so you know, I haven't given her a different name to protect her identity). No matter how perfect I would write out my letters or read from the beginner books in class (I was at top of my class for reading), she would always find something wrong, which meant I usually went without recess. Furthermore, she was always punishing me to the extent that I often stayed after school to clean toilets with the janitor. He was a really great guy.

When I would get home from school, I would go out and play with my friends. All of our play occurred out side. Basketball, Hide-and-Seek, Cops and Robbers, Sardines- anything and everything- but my favorite activity was when we would climb trees and imagine worlds that were above the ground. We would be up in the trees for hours... those of us who were stallworts that is. Oftentimes, I would be the last one left in the tree and I still wouldn't come down for a while. The trees were safety because I was hidden. From where I sat, I could see everything and still remain unseen... and everything was green. Have you ever stared at leaves in the trees? Have you ever laid on your back on the ground and stared at individual leaves in the trees? When the sun shines through them, they glow like emeralds in the light. If I had been given the option to live in a tree as a child, I would have taken it in a heart beat. I would lay back on a thick branch and dream of being in Oz... or Wonderland... but most days, it was Oz and I was in the Emerald City and I was Dorothy and no one hated me, instead they loved me because they knew that I was going to make things better. I love trees.

You are probably wondering, "What is Other Mother thinking?" What I'm thinking is that I should have spent more time in the trees when I was a child. I've been thinking about this for days now. I've been experiencing some... I've been under a lot of... I've been rather stressed lately and it is taking all I have to not run away. The scary thing about that last sentance is that it's true... it's taken all I have to not run away. I just found out about a serious illness of a dear friend of mine who is my age, my job is destroying my soul, my boss won't give me a raise and is giving me even more work every day, I want to get back into school but can't afford it, my boss won't allow me to take any vacation time because as she says, "I need you here every day babe, sick or not." I have to find a new place to live in about 2.5 weeks, otherwise I am homeless. I'm working 10-11 hour days with no breaks and no lunches, my only break being a bathroom break in the late afternoon that I milk for all it's worth as I stand- yes stand- in a bathroom stall facing the corner and zoning out for 10 minutes. And to top everything off, I said some things to some people that I care about that were horrible and... completely unecessary. I'm worn out and exhausted and just broke up with the greatest man I have ever known because... I broke under all the pressure and I took it out on him. The worse thing, though, is that I did this to him at a time in his life when he needed me the most.

All I've been able to think about is how badly I wish I would have spent more time in trees as a child. I've thought long and hard about this for about a week now, as well as played over every second in my brain how badly I hurt the man I love most and hoped to spend the rest of my life with... and the one thing that makes any sense at all to me is that trees are meant to be climbed. I should have spent more time in the trees as a child.

[Untitled]

2010-07-18T21:56:00.000-07:00

Love is safest
When it's kept
In the dark-
Hidden and unannounced,
Like half a thought
Lodged in your chest that
Bursts from your lips
Drenched in immediate
Regret.
When Love dies, it's
Hard to cry because that means
You have to
Feel. Numbness is
Holiness when Love's
Bliss no longer
Exists, which is why
I pray for Cold to
Take hold of my fire-
I wish for
Cold to snuff out my spark
And freeze my heart-
Let my heart's love
Bleed out and
Leave my soul without
Breath.
The sting of
Emptiness is better than the
Memory of broken chance and
Promises held at a distance.
Ignore me
And with your silence
Belittle my existence.
It's hard to exist in
Half-light and, darling,
We were bright, but
We were shadowed by a
Deception that
Stole us from Heaven-
We couldn't heal.
My love for you was real.
I no longer wish to
Feel.

Copyright Other Mother

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

2010-07-18T00:16:00.001-07:00

I have had so much on my mind lately it's... overwhelming. Have you ever felt stuck? Of course you have, we all have. What a silly question. But, you know, it's not that I feel stuck. I don't feel stuck. I'm not drowning. For the first time in a really long time, I don't feel like I'm struggling to keep my head above water... and I don't feel like the world is crashing down or caving in on me... I don't feel like there isn't enough air to suck in at an anxious rate. I feel... not a whole lot. I feel... what do I feel? Bored? No. What is it? I feel stagnant.

You know when you are outside and the summer sun is beating down on you and you love the warmth of the sun, but you wish there would at least be a light breeze? And then the breeze comes and you are thankful... and you can smell lilacs which always brings comfort because even if you can't see the lilac bush, you know there's one nearby. And then far off you hear the drum of thunder and you get excited deep in your heart and for the first time in decades a butterfly is let lose in the pit of your stomach and you hope it rains- not just any rain- but an all consuming thunderstorm that can bring life and destruction all at the same moment. And so you hope for rain. And then the rain comes and it's more fierce than you expected and the wind whips your hair cruelly and you are left feeling small and insignificant and like you are going to be torn away from solid ground. And after what feels like endless ages, the storm finally passes and all is quiet and after time you return to a sense of normalcy, whatever normal is.

And then days go by, and it's hot again and you feel like you are going to melt and you notice a puddle and the puddle is a brownish-puke color and there are pieces of grass floating in it and someone's bubble-gum wrapper and then you notice the funky smell of old water and you here mosquitos buzzing around and you begin to itch and wish for a light breeze and another rain storm... only there is no breeze and no rain, just a nasty puddle that is a prime nesting pit for mosquitos and disease with garbage in it. The water in this puddle has no life, no change, no peace, no power, no awe... just stinky water and mosquitos. That's how I feel right now. Stagnant. No opportunity for growth. No opportunity for change. No healing. No... anything, only nothing.

The thought occurred to me today that I actually love my job. I love what I do for work, I do not love how I am treated by my fellow employees. Well, a couple of them are great. My boss is an amazing woman, she took me on as an employee under conditions that most prospective employers would stear clear of- equal right employment opportunity or not- I was pregnant and single and she took me on as an employee. I am eternally grateful to her for this. However, I am still looking for new employment.

I've been toying around with the idea of moving to another state to become a nanny. I have some really good friends in the state that I am considering and I am desperate for change. I've been scared of this desire to move because I keep second guessing myself thinking that the desire resides in my "need" to run away but this time I'm not running from anything. Everything feels like it is as it should be and I'm happy about this. But, I'm not growing, I'm not doing anything but working and existing. That's not enough. There was a time where existing was enough and that was right after I placed Baby Boy for adoption. That was a hard time and existing was difficult, but I existed and now existing isn't enough- now it's time to live. This makes more sense in my head, I think. I hope that I am expressing my thoughts clearly enough. I don't feel like I'm living and I want to live. I've started to make a bucket list, not of events I want to do before I die, but a bucket list for the next year. Simple things that people take for granted, but that scare the living daylights out of me. And, I'll save that for another blog, but the point I'm making is that it's time to move away from Utah for a bit and live and learn.

On Monday I will be contacting a nanny agency that places in New York and Connecticut. Ideally, I would love to find a contract that lasts only 6 months, but I would take one that lasts 9 months also. My goal is to pay my car off and other small debt and then move to California with a dear friend of mine, we'll call her Freedom because that's what it's like to be around her. And, then I'll find a job out there and look into getting back in school. This is my life and I'm going to take it as it comes, but most importantly, I'm going to love every second of it. For right now, this is what I want to do and I'm basing this on what I feel is best for me. I used to base the next event of my life on what other's around me would do for their next move and that is very difficult and stressful. I am now taking my own life into my own hands and I'm going to live and experience and learn and write... I'm going to write. I can't wait. It's going to be good.

Good night dear readers and good night Baby Boy. You are my greatest inspiration Child of my Heart, you have been my greatest adventure.

Love,

your birth mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-07-13T19:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

Today you are eight months old! You are such a big boy and so handsome. Your smile gets bigger if that's even possible! Your smile reaches your perfect almond shaped eyes and when you laugh you laugh with your belly. You are ticklish everywhere and it is so funny to watch you try to resist a laugh when being tickled. Whenever I think of you I can see your smiling face in my mind and I hear your laughter and if I truly imagine hard enough, I can still feel the weight of your body in my arms as I rocked you to sleep the last time we saw each other. You are the light in this dark world and I love you with all that I am... down to my last tear. You are the child of my heart and there you will remain forever. I love you, my baby boy.

Love,

your birth mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-07-11T23:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

You are learning to crawl now. I can't believe how big you are getting. First you started rolling over and then you started sitting up by yourself, and now you are beginning to crawl. You also have some cute little teeth growing that are coming in. You will be 8 months old on Tuesday. I can hardly believe how big you are getting. Your smile takes my breath away and the memory of your laugh feels my soul with joy. You are my everything and you are growing so big! You will always be my baby boy. I love you for eternity child of my heart.

Love,

your birth mother

Never Trust a Bear

2010-07-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

Today I went with my parents, my sister, and her two children to the old Wendover Airforce Base. We had lots of fun. My niece and I learned a very valuable lesson while there and that was to never trust a bear. I trust that you will very shortly understand the reason why. The following are documented photos of the incident.

Disclaimer: What you are about to witness may be considered frightening to children under the age of 25. Proceed with caution. Do not try this at home.

Brave Bear boards the plane.

Silly Bear, that's not the cock-pit...

Bear is found sleeping on the job.

Bear gets ready for lift off...

Bear having trouble with the equipment. I don't think he's going to get this plane off the ground.

Bear is nervous. This is his first flight.

Bear sneaking out the window.

Never trust a bear.

How To Stay Positive - "I can do anything good"

2010-06-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

Everyone Needs a Father

2010-06-20T21:23:00.000-07:00

Today is a sacred day. It is Father's Day. Like many other day's in America, today has taken on a highly commercialized and profitable industry. Sometimes it almost feels as though the day should be centered around the best gadget and who will get it for dad, or will dad instead get one of those horribly humiliating ties that will be stashed away in the back of the closet, only to be worn once- a year from now- when he is given another to replace it. My mind has been racing today with all sorts of emotions. I don't even know where to begin. Please forgive me if my rambling's seem insignificant or hard to follow... eventually, hopefully, a full-circle will be made, and what I am attempting to say will make sense.

My dad is the greatest dad any girl could ask for. He understands each of his children in a way I hope to one day understand my own children. I've learned many valuable things from my father like: how to start a camp fire with only one match, how to transplant flowers and keep them alive at the same time, how to whistle, and the importance of using proper grammar. That's just the beginning. There are specific moments in my life that will always stay with me and majority of them involve my dad.

When I was 10 my dad worked 70-80 hours a week in order to support his family. He also had cancer at this time and was having to go through treatment which was extremely exhausting for him. I remember one Saturday night, my mom took me and my sister to my dad's work so that the three of us could spend his break time with him. I was struggling with some bullies at school at this time and didn't know how to talk about it or what to do about it and I remember walking with my dad outside and he was asking me how I was and how school was going and I was giving him short answers, "fine," "good," "not much is new." He knew something was wrong because I wasn't as talkative as I usually acted and he was patient with me and let me tell him my struggles at my own pace. He never pushed the issue, but I remember after about 10 minutes of talking I finally opened up to my dad what was going on and I started to cry and he put his arm around me and we walked like that and he told me how much he loved me and how much my family loved me and how he would always be there to comfort me and pick me up when life was kicking me down. I felt safe and secure at that moment because I knew my dad was honest to his word and that he would never let me down and he never has let me down; he's always been there for me.

When I was 13 years old I spoke like a valley girl... you know, like... you know and whatever... like I said stuff like somethin' and whatever... you know? It was really obnoxious. It was so bad, I couldn't go more than 3 words without adding one of the above nonsensical words... it was that bad. Anyway, I was "talking" to my dad one day while we were out weeding the flower bed and I don't remember what it was that I was talking about, all I remember is that, to me at the time, it was important. When I finished what I was saying, I looked at my dad and asked him, "You know what I'm sayin'?" And he looked at me and said with a heavy sigh, "No. Honey, I have no idea what it is you are trying to say. I listened as hard as I could, and I have no idea what you are talking about. I would love to know what you are talking about because I can tell it's important to you, but I'm at a loss as to what you were trying to say." I was surprised. He went on to say something to the effect of, "Other Mother, the most important thing in this life, other than family, is your education and your ability to communicate. Your education and your ability to communicated effectively with other's is your ticket to greatness. You're better than somethin' and whatever'. You're better than, you know, the people out there who don't take advantage of the education they are receiving. You are better than what you are settling for... and, to be honest sweetheart, based on that conversation, I have no clue what it is you are settling for, but I don't like it because it's confusing." I remember that my feeling's weren't hurt by what he said because of how he said it, it wasn't degrading, it was truly confused, and I knew that what he was saying was right and from that day on I strived to communicate in a way that was understood and not confused. My ability to communicate is something that I know I'm strong with and I thank my father for the important lesson he taught me that day while we weeded the flower beds. But, mostly, I am thankful to him for not making me feel like an idiot when, truly, I was acting like an idiot.

When I was 16 years old I came home extremely late one night. I had had a flat tire and didn't know how to change it. Thankfully I came across a friend of mine who helped me, but the result was I got home much later than anticipated by my parent's and they were scared. I know what you are thinking, dear reader of mine, "Why didn't I call him on my cell phone?" Well, this was the dark ages, it was clear back in the year 2001 when teenagers didn't think it mandatory to be provided a cell phone by their parents... and so, I didn't have one. I got home and my parents were waiting and I explained to them what had happened. My dad flipped a gasket and yelled, "I better never hear of another person touching your tires!" I won't lie, I laughed at him... big mistake. I thought he was joking; turns out he wasn't joking... at all. I have my dad's temperment... and so, that night as we fought, neither one of us would back down and it progressively got worse and worse. The next day at school, I was so distraught because I kept playing over in my head the stupidity I displayed in arguing with my dad. It made me sick and I skipped out on one of my classes. When I tried to turn in a forged note the secretary (who, I'm convinced hated me)... she felt it necessary to call my dad to let him know I made it back from my doctor's appointment. I was in the office as she made the phone call and I remember hearing the words, "Oh, you mean you didn't sign this note excusing her from Algebra? Well, that's strange because I'm reading it clear as day and it is signed by you.... (eternal pause). Thank you for your time, you have a good day as well." The whole time, the secretary was staring at me with a look of accomplisment on her face and I sat there glaring at her. When I got up to leave she told me about detention and I told her that I look forward to spending more time with Mr. Nielsen and picking his brain about Beowulf as he happened to be my favorite teacher. I then asked her if she felt better about herself and then I walked off. When I got home that day I was horrified. I knew I let my dad down and I knew he would have a lot to say about it. I walked to his room and he was on a business call so, I waited patiently for him to be done. He sat on his bed and I remember looking at him and noticing for the first time ever, how tired he looked. We sat in silence for a while when he finally said, "Other Mother I've been thinking all day about our argument last night and it's made me sick to my stomach how we fought. I have been wondering to myself today how my behavior my affect you and your actions. I'm sorry for last night; I hope you'll forgive me. The saddest thing in this whole mess, Other Mother, is that you betrayed the trust of someone, and trust is the hardest thing to earn. You may never earn that woman's trust back, because you betrayed it, all you can do is try your hardest to gain it back and hope that you haven't broken her trust completely. I love you and I'm sorry about last night." I learned in that moment that trust is the hardest thing to earn and the easiest to break. I apologized to the secretary the next day and I told her that I understand she may never trust me again, but that I wasn't concerned about whether or not she trusted me because she obviously never did, seeming as she took it upon herself to make that phone call in the first place which wasn't a part of standard protocol and that I knew what standard protocol was as I was on office assistant for 8th period. I then thanked her for being the reason that mine and my dad's relationship was stronger that day than it was the day before.

When I was 22 year's old, both of my grandpa's died within 2 weeks of one another. It was a hard time. The hardest was the passing of my father's dad because there was a lot of family turmoil in my dad's family before his father passed away. His sibling's didn't want my family to come to the funeral, but we went anyway and it was very difficult. My dad got up and spoke and I will never forget the example that he was to me through his own difficulty. He apologized to his sibling's for any wrong he might have caused them. He told them that he didn't understand what went wrond or when that wrong occurred, but that if the anger that was directed towards him and his family was his wrong doing then he apologizes for all the hurt he caused. What you need to know about this situation is that my father was not in the wrong. In the mess that occurred before my grandfather's death, my father was not the antagonist. I'm not going to sit here and throw stones and say whose fault it was because... that's lame, but what I will say was that my father apologized for hurt he did not commit. Family is important to my dad. He's always lived his life as an example to his children that you do whatever you are capable of doing for your family when they need you. He raised his children to understand that "blood is thicker than water," and that all we can take with us when this life is over is familial connection. Family is all we have. Even though my father was not in the wrong, he apologized to his sibling's and let them know he will always love them and when they are ready to have him back in their life that he will be ready and waiting to be a part of their lives again.

I love my dad. He's the greatest example of good that I know. I wouldn't be who I am today without having his example throughout my entire life. There is no way I would have survived placing my baby boy in the care of a more capable family without the love of my family and specifically the love of my father. It is because of the love my father has given me throughout my life that I knew how important it was that my baby boy have a daddy, and a daddy was not something I could provide for him. Father's are irreplaceable. A father's presence, or lack there-of, in their child's life single-handedly can alter that child's life for the better or the worse. Fatherhood is sacred. Fatherhood cannot be replaced. Fatherhood is necessary for the healthy development of a child. I love my dad.

Happy Father's Day to all the father's out there.

Allow Me to Introduce You to...

2010-06-13T17:41:00.000-07:00

... my alter ego.

Dear family and friends, as you read this post, you may find yourself blushing uncontrollably as you ask herself, "Is she doing this? Is Other Mother really exposing her insanity to the world wide web and all those who stumble upon her blog?" And, the answer dear loved ones o' mine is, "yes, yes I really am." So, gird up your loins oh ye faithful and be prepared to be amazed and horrified all in the same moment.

I've been thinking about my last semester at University a lot lately. It was, by far, the most difficult and rewarding semester I remember experiencing at University. I remember one class in particular. It was an American Literature survey class that covered American Literature of the late 19th century to Modern day American Literature. Being an English Literature major, I've always been a snob towards American Literature (yes, I know I'm American... ), while this truth is baffling, it also stems from an unexplainable source. While all Literature majors are united n their nerdom... there still resides a competitive nature amongst various literature studies where we all want to prove that our specific branch of literature studies is better than all the rest. It's like feuding football fans... the Utes vs. the Cougars... it just exists... against all reason, it exists. Therefore, I always thought American Literature was lame and childish in comparison to my major English Literature, but alas, I was forced to take this class as a pre-requisite to another class, so I did it. I went in with the mindset that I wouldn't learn anything because there is nothing to be learned from American authors, and I've never been more wrong in my life. While I could divulge all the wisdom I've learned from specific American authors, I won't, because the specific event from this class that stood out to me most is the one that I've been thinking so much about lately.

The very end of this semester, my profesor (whom I had/and still might have a crush on... I heart you Professor Carney... and Mango, baby, if you are reading this, Professor Carney has nothing on you because I love you) had our class research current authors that are residing in Utah. The author I had the privilege of researching was also a professor at the time at the University I was attending. Her name is Laura Hamblin and she is brilliant. I purchased her book of poetry and took from it like it was manna from above. Simply put, I was blown away by her words. They struck me deep within and caused me to think outside of who it is I thought I was and to explore what it is I truly believe and I have never been the same since. I was fortunate enough to go to a reading of hers and to hear her read her work with her voice... to experience the intonation with which she spoke and how it changed the meaning of what was being read. What fascinated me the most were her poems where she claimed an alter ego. The voice in these poems was so different from the voice that read through the rest of her work that I found myself captivated and I've always thought about the idea of an alter ego. I asked her where she got the idea for this other voice, how it came to her and she told me, "The voice with which these poems speak is the voice of someone who isn't being restrained by social constructs or other's telling her what she can's or shouldn't do. The voice in these poems is the voice of a woman without restraint. It's everything I want to be when I feel repressed." That's beautiful. And that's what I've been thinking about lately.

Subject shift.

For those of you who recall from a previous post, I have had an unhealthy fascination and sick admiration with Roller Derby girls from a very young age. I have been researching Utah's Roller Derby League in anticipation of trying out for it next year. I have also been extensively researching roller derby equipment so that I might purchase the correct equipment in order to train for next year's tryouts. I have been struggling to find a merchant of aforementioned roller derby equipment in the state of Utah, however the lack of roller derby merchants in the state where I live has not hindered my desire to push forth with faith into the roller derby unknown... in fact, I find myself even more driven to succeed.

Subject shift.

I have an amazing boyfriend. He is supportive of me in my goals and my dreams and my aspirations. I'm a lucky girl to be the recipient of his love. When I feel incapable, he gives me dozens of reasons why I am capable. He makes me feel fearless when I come up with a game plan to achieve my dreams. He also came up with my Roller Derby-girl name and I love it. Is it a name that conjurs warm fuzzies in one's heart? Absolutely not. Is it a name that will make my parent's glow with pride when they hear the commentator announce it in the arena? Not at all. Is it absolutely hysterical? It's the funniest thing I've ever heard. Is it perfect? Yes. Does it make me love him even more? Absolutely.

Without further ado, I introduce you my dear compadres to my alter ego (drum roll please).... Kiwi Trip-A-B*tch Unconscious.

Who is Kiwi Trip-A-B*tch Unconscious? She is fearless. She is honest to a fault. She is, potentially, tactless in her honesty, but honest all the same. She makes everything her cause and she fights for it. She is assertive. She isn't scared to throw a punch. She knows how to throw a punch. She is passionate. She fights for what she knows is right even it what is "right" to her is completely wrong to others who are too scared to fight for themselves. She sticks up for the underdog even if all the odds are stacked against him. She takes it as a personal insult when someone she loves is harmed or belittled and will cause pain (emotional or physical) to the one who harmed or belittled her loved one. She isn't afraid of lace or the color pink. She understands the necessity of tulle in some fashions. She believes that the 1980's were a major accident (excluding the hair bands) and doesn't understand why people feel the need to bring back certain styles from the '80's (no excuse is good enough to explain shoulder pads). She is determined to bring back old school gangster slang like, "yo diggity", "word to your mother" and "word!" back into modern vernacular. She uses words like "vernacular" and "misnomer". She sounds Irish when she's excited or angry. She doesn't give up; if it's important to her, she doesn't give up. Even though she hates cheerleaders, she is the greatest cheerleader to have in your corner when you need support and encouragement. She isn't perfect but she learns from the difficulties she faces. She lives her life tall. And last for now, but certainly not least, she is "possibly" known to swear like a sailor. Simply put, Kiwi Trip-A-Bi*ch Unconcious is the definition of bad-a*s, word!

You may be confused as to why any of the above is important in the first place. I understand the confussion, it's valid. I've been feeling down lately. I've been trying so hard to correct all that is wrong with me that I've been subconsciously putting myself down every day for thinking that there is something wrong with me in the first place. Does that make any sense at all? Am I perfect? No. Is anyone perfect? Surely not. And that's the point. Why is everyone putting themselves down? Why can't we accept our "faults" as part of who we are and embrace them as the "strengths" we need when we don't feel strong? I'm not making sense here. I feel vulnerable right now because I am telling myself I'm not good enough and I began thinking to myself about Laura Hamblin and her other voice. If I wasn't supressing myself and telling myself who I should be like and what I shouldn't be doing, then who would I be?

I would be fearless because I wouldn't recognize my weaknesses as something to be ashamed of. I would be honest in how I interract with people, even if the honesty that they need to hear is something they don't want to hear. I would passionately stand against the injustices I see around me that other's probably don't think to spend a second fretting about... and I would do that because I can and should because it affects me. I wouldn't be afraid to stick up for myself and be assertive when I don't appreciate how certain people treat me. I would know how to effectively defend myself, and trust me, if I knew how to do that, I could have avoided some horrible situations. I wouldn't think twice in telling someone who has hurt someone I love- beit a rude word said out of anger or whatever- what I think of them and where they can stick their opinion and I wouldn't be afraid to cause another fight because I know I can out speak them and what I speak would ring with honesty and shake the offender to their core with how unjust they've been. I wouldn't be afraid to be feminine and girly. It's stupid to say this, but I've always been afraid of makeup, and the color pink... I get nervous when standing in the hairspray aisle at the grocery mart, until recently, I was afraid of lace and I never understood tulle. I am beautiful... those words sometimes catch in my chest and I can't say them. I am beautiful and deserve to recognize this, and I'm working on recognizing it. I have nothing to say about the '80's except for, "Brett Michaels, I love you!" I've always felt that tall people are feerless because the world isn't as big to them as it is to a short person and this is an excuse for me to justify living my life in fear. I'm short and I'm powerful and I will live my life tall- there isn't anything I can't do. When I feel weak or unworthy I will aske myself, "What would KTABU do?" And I will remember that no one is perfect and what is imperfect about me is what is beautiful about me.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-06-13T01:50:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

In 2 hours and 21 minutes you will be 7 months old. I've learend that Time passes by quickly when you least expect it and seems to drag on the more concerned you are that it will pass by too quickly. In 2 hours and 21 one minutes, it will be seven months to the hour that I first held you in my arms. I couldn't believe then how quickly you would grow out of your newborn infancy. I believe that at the moment I first held you I immortalized your infant perfection in my memory and it will forever be imprinted in my mind's eye. You are perfection and your laugh is Heaven. You are starting to teeth; you aren't enjoying it so much. Your gums are sore, but if tickled in the right spot, even through your tears you laugh out loud. You are such a good natured baby and your family loves you so much. Your older sister and older brother worship you. You still don't have a neck, neither do you really have wrists or ankles... to me your chub is perfection, but perhaps my favorite thing about you (besides your smell) are the dimples that take the place of where your elbows should be. You are a cuddle bug and my arms still remember holding you. I love you with all of my memory, with all of my hopes and dreams. You are and will forever be the child of my heart, my dear, sweet, chubby, and happy baby boy. I love you so much and I always will.

Love,

your birth mother

Something Wonderful

2010-06-03T14:26:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how fast time can get away. I've been meaning to write about a particular event for a while now, but needed some time to organize my thoughts and then before I know it, June is here! As you all know, Baby Boy's adoption was finalized on May 19, 2010; what a special day that was for Baby Boy and his wonderful family. That following weekend on Mayy 22, 2010, Baby Boy was sealed for all time and eternity to his parents and siblings in a temple not too far from where we all live. Baby Boy's family was very wonderful to allow my parents and myself to come to the temple for this occassion. My parents were able to view the sealing as it occurred and I waited in the waiting room because I was not able to attend the actual ceremony. I thought I would be extremely anxious the entire time and at first I was, but as I sat in that spiritual setting, I couldn't help but realize how peaceful I felt with all that was happening not too far from where I was sitting. I know that I've made the right decision in placing Baby Boy for adoption and I know that I chose the family that he was meant to be with... he was always meant to be their's. That doesn't mean I don't have difficult days still because I do, but in that half hour to forty minutes that I was sitting in the temple waiting room, the only thing I could feel was immense joy for my baby boy and his eternal family, that and a calm peace that it's okay for me to move on.

After the sealing, I met both Baby Boy's sets of adoptive grandparents and other extended family. They are all wonderful people. My parents and I were then invited over to have dinner with all the extended family. I got to hold Baby Boy all afternoon. It was wonderful. He is perfection and so squishy and rolley and smiley and giggly. I got to feed him a bottle and rock him and cuddle him and... I will never forget that afternoon.

The following day, May 23, 2010 Baby Boy was blessed at church. His adoptive father gave the blessing and it was beautiful. My father wasw included in the circle of priesthood holders. Some of my siblings attended the blessing as well and it was really good for them to see Baby Boy surrounded by all the love of his new family. After Baby Boy's blessing, his mother asked me if I would like to hold him and of course I said yes. I looked down at my baby boy dressed all in white and couldn't help but cry at how beautiful he is and how happy I am for him that is part of such an amazing family and that my family was invited to participate in this very special day of his. I fed him another bottle and he fell asleep in my arms and I felt the peace again that I've only ever felt with him. My entire pregnancy was blessed with a calm that was so tangible to me and it was the calm that comes along with this little boy... and I felt that again and I watched him sleep. My family was invited over to a relative's house of Baby Boy's adoptive parents to mingle with everyone and have time to spend with Baby Boy and it was an absolutely wonderful afternoon. I was able to hold Baby Boy all afternoon again and as I was feeding him another bottle he pee'd and it leaked out his diaper and all over me, but I didn't mind (gross, I know!) because my baby boy pee'd on me. I laughed so hard, he also pee'd on my oldest sister, and she laughed as well.

When it was time to go it was difficult to leave him again. I got pictures of my family holding him and of him with his litte birth cousin who is just 7 weeks older and pictures of me and him that I will always treasure. And, I know I'll see him again because his parent's are wonderful people and don't discourage contact. It was hard to leave him again, but I also know better the people that are his family and that's calming in itself. That weekend was the best weekend of my life thus far because for 2 days I was able to hold the child of my heart. I didn't wash either of the blouses I wore for a week after because they smelled like him... spicy and sweet at the same time and earthy... I love his smell.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-05-21T09:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

My brother Joseph is the fifth born, also referred to as the oldest of the second set of four. He is one of the most genuine people I know. With Joe, you know where you stand and, more importantly, you know who you are dealing with. Everything about Joe is honest and good. He is genuinely good. He is always thinking of others and serving those who are less fortunate. He loves humanity, in all it's glory and for all it's flaws, and the flaws of the human race disappoint him, but he does all that is in his power to make this world a better place. Joe affects great change in anything he undertakes. He is an inspiration to me and makes me want to be a better person.

When I was about 10 years old, Joe was about 16 years old. We lived in Elk Ridge, which is above Loafer Canyon. I remember waking up one night from a nightmare. I was really scared. I don't remember the nightmare, but I remember laying in bed scared to fall asleep again. I couldn't wake Tricia up because one thing about Tricia, once she's asleep, she is ASLEEP. I layed there for hours and was wide awake. I decided to go upstairs to the family room to watch television, but when I got up there I noticed that Joe was asleep on the couch. I didn't want to wake him up, but I didn't want to go back down to the basement, either, so I simply sat on the other end of the couch. So, I sat there, and I started feeling better. Just being in the same room as Joe was a comfort to me. I decided to go back to sleep on the couch. Joe woke up before I layed down and he sat up and said, "Hey Kathy, are you alright?" I told him I had a nightmare and he invited me to lay next to him to sleep. I did and I didn't have a problem sleeping because I knew I was safe. Joe cured my nightmare, it didn't come back. Joe has a presence about him that is calming and you can feel it just by being in the same room that he is in, no words have to be exchanged to feel the calm that comes from him, it's that strong. He has always been this way and whenever I've been stressed or anxious, all I have to do is give him a phone call, because the calm is in his voice, as well. He has an amazing spirit and I've never met anyone else like him who has that same spirit of calm as Joe does until I found out I was pregnant with you. You had that same affect on me and I knew from the time I became aware of you that you had this same gift to comfort people, that Joe has. The first time I ever held you, I felt it even more powerfully. Joe felt it the first time he held you, as well. He commented on it later. He said, "I've never liked holding babies. They make me nervous, but holding him is different. I feel so connected to him." You have a calm about you, sweetheart, that is beautiful to experience. You are going to be a comfort to everyone you come in contact with and just know, that your uncle Joe has that same gift and it makes me happy to know the two of you have that in common.

Joseph has a beautiful singing voice and loves music. He used to sit at the piano with me and as I played we would sing together. I would get lost on the page as we sang because I was focusing so much on his voice. There is a commanding quiet about his voice that, when he sings, you listen and the words become a part of you. While Joe was in high school he taught himself to play the guitar. He would take the guitar with him everywhere, it was a part of him. He plays beautifully. I loved to sit and listen to him play. Watching him play was an amazing thing to experience. He plays with a passion that is humble. It's hard to explain, but that's the beauty of Joseph. Everything he does, he does it to the full extent and with a brilliance that is not conceited but magnificently humble and the effect it has on you as an audience is humbling to behold. Even better than watching him play the guitar is listening to him sing as he plays the guitar. There have been many occassions where I am so touched by his singing that tears are brought to my eyes. Joe is an artist in every sense of the word because he makes you feel the emotion with which he sings. When he sings, he isn't just singing, he is telling a story and at the same time evoking memories in you that are similar to what he sings about. I hope for you to one day experience this because it will change you. Every time I hear Joseph sing, I am changed for the better.

When I moved back from New York I was stuck in life. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and it was really frustrating. Joe pulled me aside one day and decided to talk to me about my goals and what I wanted for my future. That's when it occurred to me that I didn't really have any future goals, I knew I wanted to go to school, but I hadn't made any attempt to get enrolled and I hadn't really given any thought as to what I wanted to major in. What it all came down to was that I hadn't made any efforts because I didn't want to fail at it. In high school I was a very studious student. I started to attend college the summer before my Junior year and I was a pre-med major. My Senior year of high school I was becoming certified to become a certified nursing assistant. I was doing my clinical hours at various residential homes and was really happy in what I was doing. One morning as I was being updated at the nursing home in regards to some of my patients, I was informed that a well-loved resident had passed away during the night. It was my duty to inform my patients of this gentleman's passing. I was barely 17 years old and I didn't know how to talk about death. Needless to say, my patients took the passing of their friend very hard and, having experienced the death of my friend the previous year, I could completely empathize with them. I cried with my patients and offered them whatever comfort I knew to offer and when my supervisor found out about this, I was scolded and called unprofessional. I had the highest grade in my class that year, but I never went on to take the State exam because if comforting someone in pain as a nurse is unprofessional then I didn't want to be a nurse. I felt like I failed. I never went in to this great of detail with Joe, but he understood that I was scared to try and what he told me, I'll never forget. He said, "Other Mother, you are amazing and capable of achieving what you want, you just have to know what that is. I feel like you are on the verge of greatness, if you would only reach out to accept it. When I look at you I am amazed and I feel like, at any moment I am going to witness a Supernova." A Supernova is the stellar death of a star, it is the most amazing cosmic event than occurs in the heavens, but the real beauty of it lies in the fact that as the star explodes and destroys it's galactic body- that is cause of it's own self destruction- the billions of fragments that made up its form filter out into the universe and become part of the life-blood that creates new stars. So, from it's death, life is created. When I understood what Joe was saying, I was touched. I had to let go of my fear, which is self-destructing, in order to become a part of something beautiful, my own life. Joe taught me that great change is not able to occurr without some pain or sacrifice. I can't help but think of his words at this time in my life. You were my Supernova. You were the beauty in my life that created change. The change that I feel in myself was not able to occur without feeling great pain and experiencing great fear. I didn't think I would survive letting you go, I was afraid that my sorrow would swallow me whole, but I'm still here and I am not going to let my sacrifice be in vain. I am becoming a woman you will be proud of. I love Joseph and I am grateful for his confidence in me. He never doubted in me, and it may have been a long time coming, but my Supernova happened and I'm ready to live my life without fear.

Joe is an amazing example to me of achieving dreams. He has, for as long as I can remembered, always wanted to go to England and Ireland. He has finally achieved that dream. He was sponsored by a local business to participate in the Tough-Guy competition in England. He was one of only 5 Americans to participate in this race and he placed in the top 1000 to finish the race, which is saying a lot. Over 30,000people participated in this race and not everyone finished the race, let alone placed in the top 1,000. In order to participate in this race, you have to sign a death-waiver saying that you are of a sound mind and understand that if you are severely injured or die during the race, that the family who hosts the race is not to be held accountable. All the money that was donated for the cause that Joe was representing went to support the "Make A Wish Foundation" of Utah. Joe has since participated in that race two more times, and wants to train to do it again next year. He is looking to complete the 5 hardest races in the world, one that takes place in India. He is amazing and determined to accomplish all he sets his mind to. He is an inspiration to me and my hero.

The last memory I wish to share with you about Joe is one that I learned a lot from. I don't remember the particular events that led up to this moment I shared with Joseph, but I remember that I was really upset and sad about something. I spoke to Joseph about it and I later apologized to him for making such a big deal out of it. Don't get me wrong, it was no trifling matter, but I am always one to minimalize certain events. After apologizing to him about complaining, he told me, "Don't do that, Other Mother. Don't apologize for feeling sad." I was confused because I really didn't think what I was upset about was a big deal. He then explained it to me this way. He said, "Other Mother, life is like a masterful piano piece. It is complicated and sometimes it takes us more than once to get a part of it right. But what makes it beautiful and worthwhile are the ups and downs and how complicated it all is. You wouldn't appreciate the beautiful, carefree parts of the masterpiece, without having experienced it's clashing and difficult parts. And, that's the point, Other Mother, but you need to feel it. When you are upset, feel it, don't push it away or minimalize it. Dissonance in music is beautiful and it's meant to be felt, so feel it in life." Sweetheart, life is sometimes hard and you will experience difficulties. Some people run from these difficulties, only to find that the difficulties follow them. Others pretend that everything is fine, when they are hurting inside and they don't recognize the hurt so it always stays with them. I was one of the latter people. I'm learning to recognize the hurt, though, and it's becoming easier. When you experience sorrow, let it play out, because once it passes, and it will pass, you will be able to recognize the happy times for what they are, something to be grateful for. I am grateful for Joseph for helping me to understand this. On the flip side, when you are experiencing the happy times, live them to their full effect. I am thankful for the wisdom of my brother so that I am able to pass this on to you. I love you and I'm sorry I won't be there to comfort you when you are sad, but I left you in the best and most capable hands with Jessica and Matt. They love you so much. I love you with all my heart and Joseph wants me to tell you that you are beautiful and he loves you and will never forget you. Your special spirit touched his heart and left an imprint. We love you, sweetheart.

Sincerely,

your birth mother

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-05-19T09:44:00.001-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

As of 9 minutes ago your adoption was finalized. It's done. You are officially and legally no longer my son, but you will always be the child of my heart. I am so happy for you. You are a part of such an amazing family and they've waited for you for so long. I know I've said this so many times before, but you were always meant to be their's. I am blessed to have had you for the time that I did. Baby Boy, you are more loved than you will ever fully understand and by more people than you will ever know. Congratulations sweetheart, today is a beautiful day. I will always love you child of my heart.

Love,

your birth mother

My Mango

2010-05-18T10:56:00.000-07:00

This post is going to be written in free-style as I'm finding it difficult to organize and grasp all that I want to say on this topic because there is so much I want to say about my Mango. I know you are confused and eventually what Mango is will make sense, but for right now, I'm just going to talk.

As you all know, Mango is a fruit, it's also a color, and it's a flavor. To some people, Mango epitomizes a season, it's an experience, and to other's Mango is something unknown. To me, Mango is exciting and feels me with joy, Mango is liberation and consistancy. Mango is comfort and makes me laugh. I am inspired to be my best for Mango... Mango inspires me. To me, Mango makes me feel powerful and capable of letting go of all that I'm scared of and holding on to. Mango is healing. And while Mango was completely unexpedcted, Mango is here and welcome to be here. Mango is light in the darkness. Mango is familiar and completely new. Mango is playful and also completely mature. To me, Mango is something sought after for so long and now found. I love Mango.

Mango is a man. That's not his name, of course, that's silly. Who would name their child Mango? Then again, there are some people out there naming their kids Apple, and Moonbeam... who am I to judge? I call him Mango because of something completely sentimental and that would have, in my past life, made me gag to hear, so I'll spare you the details, but he's my Mango and I'm his Kiwi. Mango is a guy I've known for a couple of years now. Our friendship has always been completely casual and nothing more than a friendship. Things never moved in the direction of dating because- well the timing sucked- everytime I was single, Mango was dating someone and everytime Mango was single, I was dating someone. We lost track of each other and recently came across each other again and things are completely different. I found that I was completely open and honest with him about everything that's occurred in my life since we lost track of each other and he was completely open and understanding and kind and respectful and sincerely sympathetic... and I was grateful for that because I've always liked Mango. In the two years I've known him, I've wanted to date him and trust me I have tried my darndest to get this guy's attention... turns out that what works best for him is complete honesty. Apparently, he always felt the same about me and we finally communicated that to one another. We are dating now and I couldn't be happier- he is like the sun bringing warmth and light back into my life. It feels good. It feels really good.

Mango is very talented. He is very musically inclined, he sings, plays the piano, plays the guitar, plays the cello... this guy is... wow, amazing. He knows how to do hair, which means maybe there is hope for mine after all, haha. He is absolutely hysterical and I love that he can always make me laugh. He's got this energy that is... beautiful and alive. He loves life. He is kind and open with his feelings which is so wonderful for someone like me. He's been through a lot in the last 5 years, but his ability to look towards the future with hope is, possibly, my favorite thing about him- though I have a lot of "favorites" about him. He is old school respectful. He asked my mom for her blessing to court me... he used the word "court"... that's adorable and I love it. He reads poetry, his favorite poet is Edgar Allen Poe. He reads... period. His favorite book is Jane Eyre. He's familiar with Russian poetry, something I'm barely starting to look into... and there is a rumor (spread by his best friend... we'll call her Beauty), anyway, there is a rumor spread by Beauty to me that he even speaks a little Russian... and that he is fluent in Spanish. He selflessly helps those he loves. If he sees someone in need and he is able to help them, he helps them. He is loyal and true. He is passionate about anything he undertakes and he makes me feel beautiful and I love that. I am one lucky girl. Mango surprises me and takes my breath away (in a good way) every single day.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-05-17T12:57:00.001-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

You are six months old now. So much has changed in these short six months that I don't even know where to begin. Your adoption will be finalized this week and you will also be sealed to your family for eternity, so this week is going to be a big one for you. My family will be coming to your blessing and we are all so excited to see you. I really enjoy the pictures that your mom and dad take of you and send to me. I just received an update in the mail from your mom and it was so much fun to read. You have lots of fun with your sister and brother and it warms my heart to hear the stories that your mom shares with me. It was very important to me that you grow up in a family with siblings. I know that there will be times when you don't always agree or even get along with your sister or brother, but just know that all of that is a regular part of life. What's even more important to remember is that your family will always be there for you. They love you. They cherish you. Regardless of what kind of disagreements are shared, your family will always love you and they are your number one go-to when you need support and love. You are such a handsome little baby boy and your eyes light up when you smile and your smile is my soul's greatest joy. I love you so much and always will my dear, sweet baby boy.

Love,

your birth mother

Regarding Mother's Day

2010-05-11T23:54:00.000-07:00

MyHotComments

The Lights

2010-05-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

"Face Up"
by Lights

It's late and I am tired, wish I could spark a smile.
The place is flying high but right now I want to be low
Don't want to move an inch, let alone a million miles,
And I don't want to go but I know I gotta go-
I just wanna feel alright.

The times you don't want to wake up
'Cause in your sleep it's never over when you give up.
The sun is always going to rise up
You need to get up, gotta keep your head up.
Look at the people all around you,
The way you feel is something everybody goes through.
Dark out, but you still gotta light up,
You need to wake up, gotta keep your face up.

Seems like the more you grow, the more time you spend alone-
Before you know it you end up perfectly on your own.
The city's shining tonight, but you don't see the light
How come you concentrate on things that don't make you feel right.
I just want to feel alright.

The times you don't want to wake up
'Cause in your sleep it's never over when you give up.
The sun is always going to rise up,
You need to get up, gotta keep your head up.
Look at the people all around you,
The way you feel is something everybody goes through.
Dark out, but you still gotta light up,
You need to wake up, gotta keep your face up.

I'm looking for more than a little bit-
I'm gonna have to find my way through it.
Gonna leave a mark, I'm gonna set a spark-
I'm coming up off the ground.
I won't be looking down.

The times you don't want to wake up
'Cause in your sleep it's never over when you give up.
The sun is always going to rise up,
You need to get up, gotta keep your head up.
Look at the people all around you,
The way you feel is something everybody goes through.
Dark out, but you still gotta light up,
You need to wake up, gotta keep your face up.

Fireflies Are Fairies in Disguise

2010-05-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

When I was a young child I lived in Missouri for a time... no, not misery, Missouri- if only I had a dime for everytime I heard that joke, maybe I would have graduated University by now. I loved it there, Missouri that is. I was fascinated by the woods that surrounded one particular home. I remember my sister and I would spend hours outside exploring those woods, it's a wonder we never got lost. I have spent majority of my life living snug between two mountains, but I have never seen trees as dense as they were when I lived in Missouri and the glory of it was that the woods in Missouri were my backyard. Granted my family was not used to the poison oak and poison ivy that plagued the area we lived in at the time, but understand that we were quick to learn what ground covering to avoid and we spent many sleepless nights pink with calamine lotion. That's not the point of this blog, though. The point of this blog is that fireflies are fairies in disguise. I learned this fact at the tender age of seven.

I remember the first time I saw a firefly flying. I was standing out on the back porch of our home staring hard into the woods that were turning black as the sun quickly sunk below the horizon. I remember feeling scared because my mind was being taken over by my imagination and my imagination was playing through all the horrible scenarios of what could happen to me if I wandered alone into those woods... the scenes involved the Elf King tricking me into an eternity away from the safety of my family and among his kind, or gremlins sneaking around in the undergrowth that would trip you and then pounce on you before you knew which way was up again because the dark was so thick. I imagined witches that looked like trees that would wait for little girl's who left the safety of their home at twilight and would end up lost in the night surrounded by trees that were really witches waiting for those naughty little girls to go to sleep before they took them away and boiled them for soup. I know what you're thinking, and perhaps you're right... I might have been a disturbed little girl, but mostly I had an overactive imagination. But, I digress. It was during my imagining of witches as trees that I became so scared standing alone on that porch staring into the black of the woods that I felt hopeless. I thought to myself, "Isn't there anything safe in those trees?" My mind played back the recent events of it's memory- kidnapped by elf king, gremlins tripping and eating me, witches pretending to be trees waiting to boil me... I couldn't think of anything safe and that's when I saw it, a light... the most delicate of light floating against the backdrop of night. If you weren't looking with intent, you would miss it. It was like a slowly falling shooting star only it was floating, and like a shooting star it exacted the same outcome as I immediately found myself feeling hopeful just watching it knowing that if I made a wish as sacred as a prayer that my wish would come true, even if I were to become lost in the black of the forest. But, I didn't wish anything. I wasn't greedy and I wasn't in danger and at the time I couldn't think of anything that I needed. And, then there were more. They were filling my backyard, these floating shooting stars.

I became ecstatic and I called to my parent's. They came out and one by one my siblings came out behind them and there we were, all of us standing on our porch surrounded by floating light. My parent's explained to me that these were fireflies... the thought was silly to me, "flies that glow" thought I... such silly lies. I knew they were fairies. My parent's let me catch some in the jar to keep as a night light in my room that night and for many nights to follow. They explained to me as they laid me down to sleep that if I get scared in the dark, all I would have to do was watch the fireflies and I wouldn't be scared anymore. I nodded my understanding, but I never slept. I stayed up watching the light in the Mason jar on my dresser and I knew they were fairies. I was mesmerized by them and watching them filled my imagination with memories of when I was a fairy. I wondered how I became a human and why? I was thankful for the fairies because I knew they were the safety in the dark of the woods. I always knew that fairies had a bad reputation for being tricksters and causing more mayhem than order, but I never judged them for it and I thnk they appreciated me for that. I would lay awake for hours thinking up adventures in my head and then I would notice that my fairy family was floating more weakly and their light didn't seem as bright and this was usually always around the time of night that light breaks through, the early hours when the sun begins to make it's presence known again and I knew that something was wrong with my fairy family and so I would sneak out of bed and get the jar and release them outside my window. I'm pretty sure I heard their exclamations of joy as they soared away from me and I knew that I would see them again that night because although fairies may trick and cause disorder, they were the magic you could rely on, they would always come the following night and that comforted me. I never did find out where they went during the day. I suppose they became a part of the rest of the light, like they were pieces of the sun that brought light to the night to make sure that naughty little girl's who wandered alone in the dark found their way home again. I know that the witches hated them because it had been a long time since the witch-trees had had soup made from little girls and I can only imagine how hungry they must have been, but that didn't make me any less thankful for the fairies.

What Does This Mean?

2010-04-27T09:11:00.001-07:00

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.

Bob Marley Explained it Perfectly

2010-04-16T11:06:00.000-07:00

"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

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

2010-04-10T09:42:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-09T23:00:00.000-07:00

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.

Chase the Wind

2010-04-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

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

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-04-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

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

"Peace is a Question of Will"

2010-03-30T09:51:00.000-07:00

Martti Ahtisaari- 2008 Nobel Peace Prize Recipient

Nobel Lecture
Delivered December 10, 2008
Oslo, Norway

Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Excellencies,
Distinguished members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, Dear Friends and Colleagues around the world,

I feel both humility and gratitude at receiving this year's Nobel Peace Prize. It is the greatest recognition anybody working in this field can be given.

What I am feeling now can only be compared with the joy I have felt when seeing the changes that peace has brought to the lives of people. When people, who have endured wars and crises, begin to build their lives in an atmosphere of peace - When faith in the future returns.

I too was a child affected by a war. I was only two years old when, as a result of an agreement on spheres of interest between Hitler's Germany and Stalin's Soviet Union, war broke out, forcing my family to leave soon thereafter the town of Viipuri. Like several hundred thousand fellow Karelians, we became refugees in our own country as great power politics caused the borders of Finland to be redrawn and left my home town as part of the Soviet Union. This childhood experience contributed to my commitment to working on the resolution of conflicts.

*****

Mediators do not choose the conflicts they became involved in but the parties to the conflict choose the mediator. Their participation as intermediaries is based on the trust of all the conflicting parties. The task of the mediator is to help the parties to open difficult issues and nudge them forward in the peace process. The mediator's role combines those of a ship’s pilot, consulting medical doctor, midwife and teacher.

However, there tends to be too much focus on the mediators. With that we are disempowering the parties to the conflict and creating the wrong impression that peace comes from the outside. The only people that can make peace are the parties to the conflict, and just as they are responsible for the conflict and its consequences, so should they be given responsibility and recognition for the peace.

The process leading to Namibian independence was long and required strong commitment and determination from the Namibians. Namibia is also an excellent example of what the UN and its member states can achieve at their best. Today, looking back to those years, it feels almost unbelievable that we managed to get all the key actors, the Western five (US, UK, France, Germany and Canada), the Soviet Union, the Organisation of African Unity, (represented by the African front-line states), the South-African government and all the political parties in Namibia, including SWAPO, to work towards a shared goal. It also taught that a durable solution can only be found if one is also prepared to engage in discussions with your political opponents. I do believe that the experience from the Namibia operation encouraged the government of South Africa to begin the process of democratic change.

The peace process in Aceh showed how important it is that a country's political leadership is committed to finding a solution to an internal conflict. Joint efforts by the political leadership in Indonesia and the Free Aceh Movement resulted in a peace agreement. However, it was only a start. Social and economic reforms can only progress if both negotiating parties and the population at large are committed to them in the long term. Work remains to be done in developing a national system that protects, sustains and improves the quality of life in Aceh.

All conflicts can be resolved

Wars and conflicts are not inevitable. They are caused by human beings. There are always interests that are furthered by war. Therefore those who have power and influence can also stop them.

Peace is a question of will. All conflicts can be settled, and there are no excuses for allowing them to become eternal. It is simply intolerable that violent conflicts defy resolution for decades causing immeasurable human suffering, and preventing economic and social development. The passivity and impotence of the international community make it more difficult for us to place our faith in jointly built security structures. Despite the many challenges, even the most intractable conflicts can be resolved if the parties involved and the international community join forces and work together for a common aim. The United Nations provides the right framework for international peace efforts and solutions to global problems. However, we are all aware of the constraints of the United Nations and of the tendency of the member states to give it demanding assignments without providing adequate resources and political support. It is important that the UN member states work resolutely to strengthen the world organization. We cannot afford to lose the UN.

In a conflict, one party can always claim victory, but building peace must involve everybody: the weak and the powerful, the victors and the vanquished, men and women, young and old. However, peace negotiations are often conducted by a small elite. In the future we must be better able to achieve a broader participation in peace processes. Particularly, there is a need to ensure the engagement of women in all stages of a peace process.

Peace processes and the agreements resulting from them end the violence. But the real work only starts after a peace agreement has been concluded. The agreements reached have to be implemented. Social and political change does not happen overnight, and the reconstruction and establishment of democracy demand patience. That requires a comprehensive approach to peacebuilding, and support for civil society.

Inequality breeds conflict

Growing inequality within countries and between regions deepens the existing cleavages. It is our task to create a future and hope for regions and countries in crisis where young people suffer from unemployment and have little prospects of improving their lives. Unless we can meet this challenge, new conflicts will flare up and we will lose another generation to war.

There has been a great deal of talk this year about the financial crisis. This financial crisis also highlights the importance of maintaining the commitment of the international community to development cooperation. The effects of this crisis may prove another major setback for the developing world. The very poorest people are already being hit hardest by the impact of climate change, rising food prices and lower levels of foreign trade. A reduction in foreign assistance and investment would be disastrous for badly needed economic growth. At this difficult time, I call on all governments to remain committed to their stated goals of eradicating poverty.

We must all be able to contribute to our own future and to the future of our communities. If the present trend continues, we will be faced with a situation where hundreds of millions of young people will be out of work in countries that are in early stages of development. If nothing is done, we will be creating an effective breeding ground for crime, instability and war as young people lose all hope. I believe that the fight against poverty is also the most effective measure of countering terrorism in the long term.

I returned ten days ago from Liberia I came away with mixed feelings. First, a feeling of sadness at the scale of destruction that the war left in Liberia and the size of the challenge for the Government and the international community. Second, a degree of optimism that the people we met, can begin to make a real difference - but only if the international community can retain its commitment to Liberia over the long term.

Conflict settlement requires the injection of optimism and hope born from employment and economic opportunities. Otherwise, fragile peace agreements can rarely be sustained. Over the long term, only the private sector is capable of growing new enterprises, creating investment opportunities which provide employment and enduring economic security. Attracting private-sector investment into war-torn areas is not easy. It requires innovation. A mix of non-economic and economic incentives will have to be devised. Similarly, involvement of the private sector in the larger work of formulating strategies for post-war recovery will require innovative thinking.

A solution must be found to the Middle East conflict

The most challenging peace-building project ahead of us is finding a solution to the conflicts in the Middle East, which have continued for decades. The tensions and wars in the region have been going on for so long that many have come to believe that the Middle East knot can never be untied.

I do not share this belief. All crises, including the one in the Middle East, can be resolved. The solution would require a contribution from all the parties involved as well as the international community as a whole. We might be strengthened in our resolve if we set our sights on the future and imagine what the world could look like if the countries in the region could jointly begin to develop their economic potential, build transport links, make full use of their educated population and begin to reap the benefits of an advantageous location in the crossroads of three continents.

I hope that the new President of the United States, who will be sworn in next month, will give high priority to the Middle East conflict during his first year in office. The European Union, Russia and the UN must also be seriously committed so that a solution can be found to the crises stretching from Israel and Palestine to Iraq and Iran. If we want to achieve lasting results, we must look at the whole region.

The credibility of the whole international community is at stake. We cannot go on, year after year, simply pretending to do something to help the situation in the Middle East. We must also get results.

For many people, tensions between religions have provided an easy explanation for the intractability of the Middle East crisis. I cannot accept this view. During my career I have seen many crises in which religion has been used as a weapon or as an instrument for prolonging the conflict. Religions themselves are, however, peace-loving. They can also be a constructive force in peace-building, and this also applies to the Middle East.

Peace mediators do not work alone

All parties to the conflict play a key role in finding a peaceful solution and putting it into practice. Likewise, a single outside party is rarely able to play all the roles that are required for a peace process to succeed.

All my peace assignments have taught me that a peace process is largely a matter of cooperation and partnership between different actors, parties to a conflict, peace mediators, governments, the civic society and international organizations.

Even though all eyes are often on the peace mediators, it is important to emphasize the role of the mediation teams and the other important actors outside the direct negotiation process itself. In my work I have always been in a privileged position to build up my own team, including my colleagues at the organization I founded after my Finnish Presidency, Crisis Management Initiative. I have had the opportunity to work with many highly qualified colleagues in different peace processes. Without them I would not be here today.

I hope that all those brave women and men that have worked for the peace in their country would feel that they can share this prize with me.

However, my biggest source of strength is my family. My wife Eeva and my son Marko have always been at my side. They have provided me with both support and constructive criticism. I offer them my heartfelt thanks.

Dear friends,

I hope that this distinguished prize awarded to me will encourage individuals and organizations to continue their efforts for peace. I also hope that they will receive full support for their work in the future.

If we work together, we can find solutions. We should not accept any excuses from those in power. Peace is a question of will.

Thank you!

Robyn "With Every Heartbeat"

2010-03-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

Maybe we could make it all right
We could make it better sometime
Maybe we could make it happen baby
We could keep trying
but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
Just a little, little bit better
Good enough to waste some time
Tell me would it make you happy baby
We could keep trying
but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
We could keep trying
but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat
It hurts wïth every heartbeat

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-03-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweetheart,

My sister Jessica is the 4th oldest in my family, she has also been referred to as the youngest of the first set. She was the only girl for 6.5 years. She was always my dad's little princess and to this day, I think she still is. She is a natural nurturer and always helped my mom with me and Tricia when we were younger. I've always viewed Jessica as a second mother because she has always been concerned about me and what is going on in my life. She has always been one to defend those she loves and also takes pride in the accomplishments of those she loves. She is quick to build you up when you are having a bad day. In short, Jessica is an amazing support and a wonderful sister.

I have so many memories of Jessica. There were only 3 girls in our family growing up, and we have always been close. Jessica has always been strikningly beautiful. She has features that gained the envy of many girls growing up, but Jessica never flaunted it, in fact she has always been very humble when it came to the topic of her beauty. I remember watching her get ready for dates. She never needed a lot of makeup because her complexion was perfectly peaches and cream- I'm talking, fair skin, rosy cheeks, big bright blue eyes, dark thick eyelashes, beautifully flowing hair, and rose-petal lips. I remember comparing her in my head to the great glamorous beauties of the golden age in Hollywood, Maureen O'Hara, Elizabeth Taylor, all the real beauties. I would watch her in awe as she would get ready for dates and did her makeup and hair, and chose out an outfit. I remember thinking that I wanted to be just like Jessica when I was older. Her laugh is infectious, and her personality engaging and anyone who has ever come in contact with Jessica has left feeling uplifted about themselves and with a new best friend.

I remember Tricia, our other sister, staying down at my Grandma and Grandpa's house in St. George for a weekend out of the summer. Jessica and I went to pick her up. Jessica always had music on in her car and she was always singing along to that music. We listened to the Carpenter's on this particular trip (we always listened to either the Carpenters or the Indigo Girls) and I remember not having any clue who the Carpenter's were, so I didn't know any of the lyrics, but Jessica knew all of the lyrics and she was singing along to them. Jessica never thought she a had a good voice, but I've always thought she had a gorgeous voice. I think she became a little self-conscious as she was singing and I wasn't singing along with her, as we usually sang together, and so she started doing all these goofy hand dances as she sang. The lyrics were, "Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Just like me, they long to be close to you." She would mimic a bird flying with one hand, and then mimic surprise at the suddeness of the birds appearing, point to me as I was the "you" in her song, then point to herself as she was the "me" and then hug herself at the closeness of the people in the song. I would laugh because her actions were so cute and they had that certain Jessica-flare that accompanied anything that Jessica ever did. That was a fun trip, we laughed a lot and sang a lot to our favorite songs, and once we reached our destination, we spent a couple of days in St. George and the 3 of us stayed up late every night watching "Real World" marathons and laughing at the stupidity of the people on the show. Jessica has always been able to make you feel welcome and included in her activities.

Jessica and I have always been very similar in our temperments. We've both always fought for the underdog and always have willingly gone to aid in the defense of those we love. Growing up, my mom would always laugh whenever we would have a disagreement because we were her "identical twins", even though there is a nine year difference between us. I'm not proud to admit it, but the last couple of years I have become extremely disconnected to my family and one of the relationships that has suffered the most, was that between me and Jessica. I had become extremely prideful and mistook Jessica's concern for me as wrongful interference. I have recently learned how wrong I have been. Jessica was there for your delivery. She came to keep me and my mom company at the hospital. She was a much welcomed distraction as she talked about everything from her family to getting ready for the holidays. When the doctor came in to tell me he was going to perform a c-section to bring you into this world after 16 hours of labor, I was very nervous. Jessica has had 3 c-sections herself and she jumped in and told me that I had nothing to be worried about. She explained the process to me and what to expect and she explained it in a way that I understood. She said that she would be waiting for me on the other end, so that my mom could be with you once you came. I was so thankful that she was there. I was afraid to be alone and she stayed with me while you were being checked in the nursery. She came to visit me a couple of times while I was in the hospital and she held you a lot and she fell in love with you. She had a baby boy 7 weeks before you were born and the two of you look so much alike. Jessica taught me a valuable lesson. As our relationship was decaying due to my own selfishness and pride, she never gave up on me and when I needed her the most she was selfless enough to look beyond my harsh treatment of her and she extended her love to me. You will come across people in your life who offend you, it's important to understand why they offend you. Is it because of their words or actions, or is it because of how you perceive their words and actions? I've learned that Jessica's offences towards me were offences because of how I perceived what she was saying. We have gotten in many disagreements this last year and a half, but they weren't because of her cruelty, they were because of how I chose to understand what she was saying to me. Jessica has always had my best interest at heart because that's how she lives her life, she cares and is concerned for the well-being of those she loves and she loves me, but I took all she said to me as criticism and judgement. I understand now that she was never judging or harshly critisizing me. She has been worried and concerned for my well-being, but I couldn't see that because I wasn't in a good place. My guilt at my actions and how I was living my life turned her concern into something it never was, criticism. I love Jessica and I am so grateful for her love. Through her patience towards my ingratitude, I have learned one of the most valuable lessons in my life and that is to look deep within myself when someone offends me to understand where the offence is coming from, is it from myself, or truly them? I find that as I look back and consider this, that most times the offense is born from my guilt and misinterpretation of someone else's concern for me.

Jessica invited me to stay with her and her family from the time I came home from the hospital after having you, through to after Christmas. Jessica loves Christmastime and making traditions with her young family. I've had the blessed opportunity to spend this Christmas season with her family because of her and her husband Nate's hospitality. Her house is decorated beautifully with two trees, one in the front living room and the other in the family room towards the back of her house. Looking in her front room from the street, the scene looks like a postcard. Jessica has captured perfectly the magic of Christmas and she is instilling beautiful memories in her children. We have hot cocoa often and watch Christmas movies all the time, she decorated a gingerbread house with her children and husband and it is beautiful, but what I've loved the most since I've been here are her Christmas trees. I love Christmas trees. I always have loved Christmas trees. One of my earliest memories, I don't even know how old I was, under the age of five for sure; but one of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch in the dark, with snow falling outside, and I am warm and safe away from the storm. Manheim Steemroller is the music in my memory and the song is "Stille Nacht", it's beautiful, and the tree is the only light in the dark. That is the magic of Christmas. I was always falling asleep on the couch next to the Christmas tree because the glow from the tree was comforting and it soothed me. To this day the glow of the tree soothes and comforts me into sleep and it's magic brings me back to my childhood. Jessica's Christmas trees are like that. Each night, I've sat on her couch and just stared off into the lights of the tree and I am, once again, a child experiencing the magic of Christmas. Traditions are important because of this reason. Tradtions connect you to your past and Jessica values the importance of tradition. Being in her home, surrounded by her beautiful family has reminded me what I want for my own family one day, and it has reconfirmed to me the importance of a safe home filled with a sense of security that is tangible, a home full of love and warmth and a mother and a father. As much as I would love to have you to myself, it is much more important for you to have a full family, and that is what I gave to you. This time of year is about family and that is the gift I gave you, the gift of a complete family. I love you, sweetheart, happy Christmas.

Sincerely,

your birth mother

Progress

2010-03-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

For the last couple years of my life I've played around with the idea of moving to Louisiana. I know what you're thinking, "WHAT? Why Louisiana?! Don't you know that Louisiana is the armpit of America?" If I had a dollar for every time I heard the above reaction to my musings of changing location... well, I'm pretty sure my car would be paid off at this point. Be that as it may, that's the only reason I haven't moved thus far... my car I mean. I knew that, wherever I move to, I want to be able to move there with no debt. So, for the last two years of my life I have been researching different states to see where I would want to move. The list has included Virginia, New York, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, Georgia, Washington state, California, Colorado, and last but certainly not least, Louisiana. My desire to move to Virginia, New York, and Pennsylvania, was fleeting as best. I spent a year in New York as a nanny after I graduated from high school and, well... I hate New York. That one year in New York has built up a general aversion to any major East Coast state. I extensively researched Washington state because I love the Northwest, but what I found is that the cost of living up there is disgusting! End of story. California... same aversion as East coast states... it's just too messy out there. Oklahoma, well that might be attributed to my unhealthy liking of old-school musicals... I'm still on the fence post about that one, to be honest. I am in love with the idea of Savannah, Georgia. As I've researched Savannah, it would seem to me that it's somewhat similar to the college town I live in right now. There are a lot of jobs down in that area that cater to student employees. The town seems relatively young... and there is something so DARN appealing about the southern hospitality I've heard so much about in regards to Georgia. So, I'm still on the fence post about Georgia. Now, for Louisiana. I have a lot of friends from Louisiana and they are all wonderful people... well, one of them I'm still deciding on. Anyway, I was talking with Southern Boy (friend from Louisiana) about my desire to move down there. Southern Boy and I have been friends for 6 years now and I love him to death. When I told him that I was thinking of moving down there he said, "Heck yeah! Girl, I can hook you up with so many people down there!" Southern Boy lives here in Utah. He is pursuing school out here. He said he'll get me in contact with his family and friends down there. Now, I've met Southern Boy's mama once while she was in Utah visiting him and she is hysterical. She reminds me of Paula Dean on Food Network Television. The first time I met his mom, Southern Boy and I were bantering back and forth with one another about something extremely foolish I'm sure. She looked at me and said, "Honey. You ain't never gonna get married if you don't let your man have the last word in an argument." I started laughing so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes and Southern Boy said, "Mama. It's funny to hear you say that seeming as daddy never gets the final say." To which I began laughing harder and Southern Mama's response was, "(Hearty laugh) I know Southern Boy, I know! But, when we was courtin', your daddy and I, I always let him have the last word so that he would marry me." And that, my dear readers, is why I love Louisiana. I know what you are thinking. You are probably very confused and feeling lost in my reasoning- it happens to me too- take a deep breath, it helps, I promise. There is something so beautiful in the reactions between the people of the south. I've witnessed it time and again. There are no formalities, just honest interractions. I feel like I'm drowning in formalities right now and I've always felt that way. I've always been one to be completely honest in my dialogue with people and, oftentimes, my honesty causes discomfort... but, I don't know how to be any other way. When I am with my Louisiana friends, the honesty is heard, accepted, and discussed. It's easier to breathe around my southern friends because they are so laid back and chill... and the affect on me, of their chillaxed demeanor is calming and liberating. Anyway, so for now, I'm mostly leaning towards Louisiana and can possibly make the move as early as this August. I've been looking in to LSU as well and they have a lot of really great programs and research opportunites. It's amazing. I'm so excited. Every time I think about Louisiana, I get more excited. That's what's going on with me right now.

Blogger Interview Project

2010-03-22T13:15:00.000-07:00

The last couple of weeks I have participated in a Blogger Interview Project discussing all facets of the adoption process. I was lucky enough to be paired with a couple who is currently in the process of adopting a child. Below are the following questions that I asked KT and her answers. What a wonderful experience for me to gain more insight into the world of adoption from learning the perspective of the adoption parent(s) throughout this process. Please read and enjoy the interview. I hope you come away from this blog entry with a better understanding of the adoption world, as well as a deeper interest in learning more about it for yourself. If you are interested in learning more about this couple, you can visit their blog (http://gatesplace.blogspot.com/). Thank you and enjoy.

The Adoption agency that you are working with, is it only for the State of Illinois , or are there sister agencies elsewhere in the United States ? What made you decide to go with this specific agency?

The adoption agency we work with is a non-for-profit who is licensed only in IL. If an out-of-state situation comes up, they would then partner with another agency/lawyer in the other state to complete the process. In terms of their marketing, they are only focused in Illinois .

The main reason we used this agency is because they provided us with a very strong base of counseling and education. If they were doing this for us, we felt that they would be doing it for the birthparents as well. They have a 24-hour medically staffed nursery on site; this is beneficial for it gives all birthparents the time they need to make the proper decisions…nothing is rushed.

More recently, we have explored the possibility of working with larger networking that crosses state lines. Unfortunately, this all comes with money and we are trying to weigh the risk with the reward. Another question that continues to pop up is, in an out-of-state situation, is the birthparent receiving counseling (before and after placement)?

You talked in your blog about how possible placement opportunities have been presented to you and your husband, but that they didn't feel right so you both decided to not pursue them; that must have been frustrating for you both. What goes through your mind when this happens? I know this is a very broad, open-ended question, and it is completely open to your interpretation. There is no wrong answer here.

This has been the most difficult part of the process; it hits me harder than it hits Rob.

There are two types of scenarios at our agency:a) Birthparent looks through the book of short profiles; the birthparents select a handful of families in which they would like to see the long profiles. We have had several of these and have always felt “good” about them…a positive “connection” had been made and we had our long profile shown. In all of these cases so far, the birthparents either choose another family or decided to parent themselves.

b) The agency asks a handful of families if they would like their long profiles shown. This typically happens because the cases are more “complex” and they know not all families would feel comfortable (i.e. drug use). This is where we have had problems recently. When the agency identifies you, there isn’t always an obvious “connection”; you might hear the situation and think, gosh, I am a polar opposite to this birthparent. It just doesn’t always feel “right”. It is just so much easier when the birthparents ask for you…that “connection” is there. And then in some cases, to have to make this decision in 24 hours or less…ahghg!

How does one make a lifelong decision with doubt in their heart? Well for us, the answer is, we don’t. We are not saying “no” to a birthparent (they don’t even know about us), we are just saying “no”, we don’t want to pursue the situation. Regardless, this is so very difficult to do!

Since we have had situations where we have been 100% and excited, we are finding it difficult to look at these “special” situations and not feel the same way. Is it fair to anyone to put your profile in if you have doubts? No, we don’t think so. Will this change for us over time? I don’t know. What I do know is that it emotionally takes its toll; saying no to any situation makes you feel selfish.

There was an incident that occurred between you and a co-worker that was very offensive in how she discussed adoption. If you could say anything to her right now, with no fear of rebuke, rather your words resound with complete clarity in your brain, what would it be? What was your thought process when she said what she said? What would be the one thing you would want anyone who isn't familiar with the world of adoption to understand about adoption and it's process?

We have been taught that there are three general ways to deal with comments: 1) avoidance, 2) humor, 3) education. I suppose I generally take the #1 route; Rob almost always will take the #2 route. Looking back on this situation, I think I would have taken the #3 route: “Did you marry your husband? Are you biologically related? Do you love him?”. I might throw something in the end such as, “…you would never be welcome in the adoption community!”.

So often it just depends on my mood and what is going on that day; we have heard so many comments.

Are you still wanting to try out for the Amazing Race?

Oh yes! This is continues to be on my list of things to do. I can’t explain why we are so drawn to the show, but we just love it. Want to be my partner?

Talk to me about the concerns and fears that you have as a prospective adoption parent. It sounds like you are extremely open to an open adoption, but do you have concerns about any part of the process- pre placement, placement, post placement?

I worry about my ability to deal with placement day…and the days to follow. How can we balance the fact that this could be the best day of our lives, when we know that there is a birthparent grieving. How do you focus on baby, when you know another heart is breaking?

I worry about openness. In a few of the more “complex” situations we have seen recently, there have been some arrests present in the birthparents history. Would we be able to have an open relationship with a criminal? Would I ever feel that our child (or ourselves) are in danger? We seek an open situation, but in a situation such as this, our relationship to openness changes. It is a difficult topic that we never have had to discuss until more recently.

I worry that this isn’t going to happen. We are not looking for a “perfect” situation, but we are looking for the “right” situation. I worry that if this doesn’t happen, will people accept us for who we are and the decisions we have made? Will people think we are selfish because we have not gone into situations we are not comfortable with?

What was the status of the Guinness Book of World Records Kite-flying contest?

While they probably had the numbers last year, it was not organized enough to count if all of the kites were in the air at the same time (the record was not broken). This year, they are hiring an organizer, so maybe it will happen!

You talk in your blog about when you and your husband were creating your long profile and the concerns and worries you had over what you should say or not say. Explain this process to me. I remember filling out the birth-parent forms and all the medical history and things of that nature and being so concerned over what I should put and what I should leave out. It's interesting to hear that there are concerns on the other side, as well. Talk to me about what the process was like when creating your long profile.

The point of the profile is to show who you are through words and pictures in a relatively compact process. For us, the question became, what is relevant? I could say that we value education…I could say that we don’t have cable tv… What makes us Katie and Rob?

Do we paint a lovely picture? Or does one want to know that there has been cancer in my side of the family? We do not always share the same opinion? All of these things make us who we are.

We have struggled (and continue to struggle) if our profile is a true representation of who we are and the life we would be able to provide for a child.

I suppose until you are in the process of adoption, you don’t realize it is very difficult to put your life down on paper in such a way that will appeal to someone else!

How has your family reacted to the world of adoption? Was it difficult for you and your husband to talk to your family about your goals and hopes in this new journey of creating your family? Were there any surprising reactions that you were not expecting?

For the most part, we have had a positive response. A few of my uncles have offered us their teenage children to us…no questions asked!
We still do get the comments about pregnancy; let me tell you about the never ending “you will get pregnant after you adopt” comment… I don’t know if this is just people being people…or if they are questioning adoption. Maybe it is more difficult for family to let this go?

We have also gotten the “…you should try invitro…” comments (this was one immediate family member’s response to our adoption news). Again, I don’t know if it is people wanting that genetic connection? Or just people being people…

I think if this process has taught me that everyone is unique. Not everyone is going to be married. Not everyone is going to have children. It is every individual’s choice…so embrace it…enjoy life whatever way you desire!

Lastly, you and your husband travel extensively. Where has been your favorite destination and why?

I can’t say that there has been a specific destination that is my “favorite”; honestly, I would do any of our trips again in a heartbeat! We often talk about this in the car, and we never agree; we actual have started breaking it down to what has been our favorite “day”.

I loved the two days we spent at Yosemite Valley ( California ); the sky was blue and the weather perfect. The hikes we did were just beautiful. We will go back – I guarantee it. We often talk about doing the hike to the top of half-dome (I wonder if I will be able to handle the cables!).

Every vacation holds a unique story…every one is a treasure.

Apologies

2010-03-21T12:26:00.001-07:00

I realize, as of late, that my posts have been alarming to some. Please forgive me for this. I'm beginning to feel that I shouldn't post anything when I am feeling an emotion at it's fullest. What can I say? I'm just trying to figure everything out. I started a new poem... kind of. Actually, it's just a bunch of words at this point... literally, it is a list of words that have been pooping into my head at random, but in this list of words I believe there is a story that needs to be told and so I am collecting the story in bits and pieces in order to unravel the events it would like to have shared. It's been a real long time since I've written anything and so I feel extremely rusty at the process. Poems used to pour out of me like exhaled air and I believe this was because what I felt and wanted to say was so close to the surface and singular in it's message that it literally just poured out of me. The feelings that I feel right now, though they are not just below the surface rather they are the surface, are so complicated that I can't make sense of them and so they come to me in bits and pieces that need to be strung together. The poem that I wrote just a couple of posts back is not in it's finished form, but I'm not focusing on it because it's still too emotional and so I will let it sit for a while until I am at a place where I can approach it with a new sense of vision. This all sounds so hokey and hog-washed, but writing is my outlet, it keeps me sane and I haven't been able to write for so long because I lost my voice- my inner voice- it's confusing. This is just an update and an apology for all those that I might have frightened by my previous posts.

On a lighter note. I was talking with a dear friend of mine, we will call him Philosopher of Physics (he can't decide what he wants to get his degree in- Physics or Philosophy- and he is very close to graduating in either one), though he is now thinking of becoming a Psychologist. But, for the sake of avoiding confusion, we will call him Philosopher of Physics, lest you think when I talk about Psychologist, that I am referring to a real Psychologist. Anyway, I was talking with Philosopher of Physics and just venting a lot of my frustrations to him about all that I am feeling and telling him that I feel real lost right now and he was very patient in listening to me grumble. He asked me something that is so simple, yet something I haven't thought about in a very long time. He asked me, "Other Mother. What is it you want? Think back to when you were a child, what did you want to do with your life? Outside of having a family, what did you want to accomplish? Outside of graduating from University, which you eventually will accomplish, what did you want to do?" I told, "I don't know, Philosopher of Physics. I don't remember." I've been thinking a lot on that conversation this last week. I've been so focused on getting back into school and still not quite sure what I want to get my degree in that I haven't focused on anything else. Needless to say, I have a better idea now of what I want to pursue accademically, but still nervous about it. But, I haven't thought about my childhood dreams in so long. So, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it this past week and I remembered something.

I lived in Missouri for 3 years of my childhood and I remember going roller skating for a friends birthday and I remember getting to the rink early and not being allowed to skate until the previous group was done. The previous group were some older girls and they were skating really aggressively against one another and ramming into each other and I remember it scared me, but then when they were done skating they were chumming it up like the greatest of friends. I asked my friend's mother what was wrong with the girls and she laughed at me and said, "Nothing. They are trying out for a Roller-Derby team." I had no clue what Roller-Derby was and so I asked more about it and she explained it to me. Once I understood it, I thought it was the greatest thing to hit the World since peanut butter and jam sandwiches. I wanted to be a Roller-Derby girl. It was that simple. I was inspired by those girl's strength. I thought it was amazing that they played as ruthlessly as boys did. Growing up, I always picked a fight with my mom when she wouldn't allow me the same courtesy to do things my brothers did. I never wanted to be told I couldn't do something because it was too dangerous. I wanted to be fearless. And, I still do. If someone tells me that I'm incapable of doing something, I do it to prove them wrong and I excel at it because I want them to know that I am capable. It's silly if I think long and hard about it, but I want to be a Roller-Derby girl. I did some research on the internet last night, and it turns out that Utah has a Roller-Derby league. They already had the try-outs for this year's teams and the teams are assembled, but I am going to start training so that I can try out for next year's team. Which means, I need to buy me some skates because, yeah, it's been at least 10 years since I've been on skates. But, I have a goal. I'm going to be a Roller-Derby girl this time next year. And, I am so excited about it! I know they seem rough on the surface and intimidating, but the league here in Utah does a lot of money-raising fundraiser events for local non-for-profit groups in the area, so they are hard-core for good reasons. The idea of trying out for a team makes me feel giddy inside like a child again and that excited me.

Looking for God

2010-03-14T15:29:00.000-07:00

I've been struggling with religion lately. It would seem that the Spiritual high I felt during my entire pregnancy has faded. I would imagine a lot of what I felt, religiously speaking, during my pregnancy was the result of being the host of two spirits. I am in no way saying that I doubt God's existence because I don't. What I am saying is that I don't know who He is or where to find him. I don't feel peace when I walk in to a church anymore. Rather, I have panic attacks. I'm working on the repentance process and it is difficult and part of me is scared to death of what my next trial will be because this life is full of them and my religion views trials as something we experience in order to learn a valuable lesson that we would otherwise not learn without having the experience of hardship. And, I'm tired. I'm exhausted. And a huge part of me just doesn't care anymore.

I sat in a Methodist church parking lot today, hyperventilating and afraid to walk in the doors. I'm not Methodist, but I figured, I haven't gone to church for 2 or 3 weeks now and I feel like I need to attend church, but I can't bring myself to go back to mine, so I'll try another one. It didn't work out too well for me as I never did make it in to the building. I just sat in my car, staring at the building and strggling to catch my breath, which felt like ice in my chest. I then drove around town for the next hour trying to feel God. But, I couldn't feel Him. And that scares me. I apologize to all who are reading this that I love- family and friends- because this isn't going to be the happiest or most comforting blog you'll read from me. In fact, it might scare you because some of the things I'm going to mention kind of scare me, if I'm being honest. I'm trying to find out who I am and I'm starting to learn that there are some aspects of me that don't coincide with who the majority of the people in my life would like me to be, or believe I can become... and that's hard to stomach.

I have a tattoo, this is something my family and friends know, already. But, what you don't know, dear family and friends, is that I've been designing another one. I doubt I'll get it, but, I'm trying to visualize this latest experience for me because, even though I seem alright, I'm not. I'm hurting... but, even that is interesting, as I don't feel anything, nothing moves me. I don't feel broken, I don't feel destroyed, I don't feel helpless... I don't really feel. I don't care about anything.

If I were to try and explain what the last year has been like for me, it would go something like this. I am a butterfly, and for a while I was flying, freely and gracefully through life, going where the wind carried me and then I got lost, somewhere far away from home and it was dark. I became cold. It hurt to move and so I stayed frozen and when I woke up I was surrounded by thorns and they were cutting into my skin and they were tearing at my soul and the more I tried to escape, the more I got caught by the thorns and the more the thorns pierced my heart and so I had to stay still until I had strength enough to tear away from the thorns, but even in tearing away from them, so much was lost. Finally, I'm free of the thorns and I emerge tattered and torn and barely flying, if you want to call it flying, it's more like... being carried by the wind, but not in a freeing sort of way, rather in a way that I'm too weak to fly for myself, so I'm carried...

If I were to ever get a tattoo again it would be that image. A butterfly breaking through the thorns, tattered and torn, but this one isn't just passively being carried on the wind, it's still flying.

In Aztec culture, the butterfly represents the spirits of warriors who died during battle, or of women who died during child-birth. The Aztecs viewed these two deaths as the most noble way one could pass from this life into the next and so those who died this way were afforded another life, and that was in the form of a butterfly. Other cultures view the butterfly as the physical manifestation of someone's spirit after they pass away. And, in Christian symbolism, the butterfly and it's life-span depict the struggles that every person must go through to come to know Christ, their Redeemer, and to reach exaltation. The struggle of hatching from the cocoon represents this life and the difficulties we face that we must endure through and break free from, and then the birth (or spiritual rebirth, if you will) into a butterfly that is free to fly, free from wordly bonds. The butterfly symbolizes transition from the human body and it's confines into the exalted spirit, free from pain's confines, but that freedom comes at a very painful cost.

I don't know exactly what it is that I am trying to say or where I am going with this, but one thing I know is that as I've been trying to visualize this latest experience that I am living, this image came to my mind of this tattered butterfly breaking free from the thorns, and flying and I felt peace again and the thought of translating that on to my body made me excited and I felt something again. Again, as to whether or not I'm going to go through with it, is another matter, but then again... I don't know if my doubting whether or not I do get another tattoo is how I really feel or if I am just trying to comfort my loved ones, who will read this and worry, into a sense of security about my emotional state that actually might not exist... I don't know.

That's another interesting thing about grief that I've noticed. The person experiencing the grief isn't honest about it because they want to protect those that are concerned with how they, the person experiencing grief, is doing. Sometimes it's easier or more comforting to the person grieving to answer, "I'm fine," when asked how they are doing. It's easier to answer this way because the person grieving knows that an answer like that is more comforting to the one hearing it than the honest answer of, "I feel dead." Because, what are the loved ones supposed to do with an answer like that? Nothing, because it's honesty at it's worst and so they worry which causes more worry and pain to the grieving person. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that, obviously grief is messy for everyone, those actively experiencing the grief and those who are experiencing it through their loved one who is actively experiencing it. Confused yet? I am.

Dear Sweetheart,

2010-03-13T13:25:00.001-08:00

Today you are four months old. It was four months ago today that I first held you in my arms and saw your perfect face. You are my joy and my life. You are my rebirth and I love you with my entire soul. Sometimes it hurts, I love you so much, but I wouldn't wish the hurt away if it meant that I would have never known you. Your mother is getting your adoption put together. I love you and I always will, my angelic baby boy.

Sincerely,

your birth mother