R.E.S.P.E.C.T and Giving Yourself a Break

I've spent a lot of time thinking about Baby Daddy.  It hasn't been pleasant.  It's hard to find the right words.  I've been on this word craze lately where I don't want to use filler words.  I think words are taken for granted on a daily basis.  I think it's easy to talk about someone when you are somewhat emotionally disconnected because then you talk about that person in a very generalized way.  I've thought back a lot on what I've said about Baby Daddy in the past.

I can't be mad at him.  Without him I wouldn't have known my greatest joy.  

It's true.  But, also without him I wouldn't have known my greatest sorrow.  Nothing can truly prepare you for the moment of placement.  Don't get me wrong, it is good to educate yourself on the options and to make a birth plan and to decide beforehand who will be at the hospital while you are there or whether you want that time alone exclusively with the child you bring into this world.  But when it actually comes down to it... there are no words.  And he did that to me.  Baby Daddy did that to me.  Granted, I had a huge part in it because I took the risk on Baby Daddy being a man I desperately wanted to find.  And, the bigger the risk... well, I think you know the rest of that.

I realized I was pregnant immediately.  I know some women say that and it's unbelievable, but I knew.  That last time I had relations with him, I knew that I was taking a huge risk and I did anyways.  I am very body sensitive and the few weeks following I noticed the difference in the way I felt.  I knew I had to take a pregnancy test, but I also knew that I needed to be in denial for a little longer.  Two weeks later, I took multiple pregnancy tests, hoping the first, and second, and third, and fourth were wrong.  Six tests later, they all read the same, positive.  I was 4 weeks pregnant when I found out.  

I will never forget that day, the day I found out I was pregnant.  I was in complete disbelief, even though I was staring at the evidence that proved my disbelief to be invalid.  I think "awe" is the correct word.  That word is grossly misunderstood.  I think people think that it means something tender when in fact the dictionary defines it as "an emotion... combining dread... and wonder that is inspired by... the sacred or sublime," and in it's archaic form, "the power to inspire dread."  Thank you Miriam Webster, I truly would be lost in this world without you and your online dictionary.  So, what does sublime mean?  It means different things, but the sublime that is talked about in the definition is actually The Sublime, which is the same Sublime that Edmund Burke wrote about in his essay entitled, "On The Sublime" (soooo original, Edmund Burke), written at the beginning of the 20th century.  The Sublime is a branch of aesthetic philosophy which defines what the quality of greatness is, or that which terrifies and causes awe to the human soul.  Ultimately, The Sublime is defined as something that is so emotionally big that it can't be comprehended when experienced.  It has everything to do with The Romantic Movement in literature, something I can get real nerdy about very quickly.  I was alone when I found out I was pregnant.  When I was younger, I imagined what it would be like to find out you were pregnant and then tell your husband and the joy that would be felt because you loved each other.  I still hope for that one day.  But, the day I found out I was pregnant was harshly different.  I was alone in my bathroom crying and screaming into a towel so that my roommate wouldn't hear me.  I didn't know what to do.

For the next nine months, I would have you believe that I was the epitome of grace under pressure.  I was calm.  I was serene.  I was patient.  I was scared to let anyone see how ashamed I was.  I noticed the stares in the grocery mart when people would ask me if this was mine and my husband's first and I would tell them I'm not married.  Their eyes would dart to my ring finger and they would get this expression on their faces like they were mortified for me.  Mortified: to subject to severe and vexing embarrassment (Miriam Webster Online Dictionary).  Forget the fact that they should be mortified for assuming that everyone who is pregnant is married.  They were embarrassed for me and they would tell me so and suggest that I wear a fake ring just until I had the baby.  

When I was seven months pregnant, Baby Daddy called me and he wanted to come back to me because he had "no where else to go" and if I didn't let him come back then he would "be on the streets".  He didn't want to come back to me because he loved me and he was sorry he cheated on me.  He didn't want to come back to me because he knew he had done wrong and that he let go of the greatest thing that ever happened to him in his life.  Simply, he had no where else to go.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009, I was in pain all day at work.  My boss kept telling me to go to the hospital and I kept telling her that I just pulled a muscle in my back, "no big deal".  She kept telling me I was in labor and I had no color and I needed to go to the hospital.  I told her, "we are short staffed and you need me here today."  She didn't argue and I stayed.  I went home that night and I couldn't get comfortable.  I was scared.  I didn't have anyone to rub my back or watch over me as I slept in case I went into labor.  When the pain became too unbearable, I grabbed my overnight bag and I went down to my car and I drove to the hospital and I was admitted.  They checked everything and I was only in pre-labor.  They offered me a shot of morphine to help numb the pain and I told them I drove myself.  They asked if my husband could come pick me up.  You wouldn't believe how many times I had that conversation when I was pregnant.  I ended up calling my sister and she and her husband came and picked me up.  He drove my car home and I drove with her.  When I came downstairs, a Lamaze class just got out and all these women and their supportive husbands came out of the room just as I got off the elevator to meet my sister.

The next day, Thursday, November 12, 2009, I went to work and then during my lunch went to my baby doctor appointment and he told me I was in labor.  Apparently, the morphine hadn't worn off yet (small favors).  So I drove myself to the hospital and checked myself in.  Sixteen hours later, early in the morning of Friday the 13th of November, the most perfect child I've ever witnessed was born.  I fell in love with him.  On the 16th I placed him in the arms of a social worker and I left the hospital.  

For nearly 4 years I have protected his father.  I haven't said one ill thing about him.  I have protected a man who never protected me and was never there for me when I needed him the most.  And through all of it, I have beaten myself up.  I have taken all the emotional responsibility on my shoulders.  I have put Baby Daddy on this pedestal for giving me the most sacred gift.  And he did.  He gave me the most sacred gift, but he also left me.  

I've blamed myself.  I'm not enough.  Those words have haunted me.  He left because I fought back.  And so I have been docile.  I'm not loveable, his leaving is my fault.  Those last words are the most hurtful.  For nearly 4 years I have harassed myself with cruelty.  At what point do you finally let yourself off the hook and give yourself a break?  At what point do you finally give yourself a break the way you do to others?  I ask you all the same question.  That's what this post is about.  

Accountability.  There is something to learn in everything, even the easy stuff.  I have learned that I am enough.  I have also learned that it isn't enough to simply say those words.  You have to believe it and live it.  And that's hard, but I'm working on it.  If you don't learn from your greatest hurts then they may happen again.  I chose the wrong guy.  I took a huge risk.  I gambled everything I had on him and I lost and it hurt.  However, my douche-radar is working much better now and that's something to applaud.  Be kind to yourself.  Let yourself off the hook when what's snagged you isn't your's to take responsibility for.  Your actions belong to you.  And the actions of other's belong to them.  Give yourself a break.

Revelation

“In the space between yes and no, there's a lifetime. It's the difference between the path you walk and the one you leave behind; it's the gap between who you thought you could be and who you really are; its the legroom for the lies you'll tell yourself in the future.” 
― Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart

Time has been on my mind lately.  Not just time, though, but also how things change.  And how in some instance time moves faster than a mountain storm in the spring.  You know, the kind of storm that you are desperate for because it washes away the last of the snow and you know that just behind the storm is the warmth?  I love storms in the spring.  Time moves the fastest when what you are experiencing is the easiest.  And the flip side of that is true, as we’ve all experienced, that time moves the slowest when you are in the most pain.  It’s in the moments of the most growth that a lifetime can be lived, the same moments that are the hardest to bear.  

I've been reminded lately of someone that I used to be.  I acutely remember the first year after Baby Boy was born.  I was a mess and I was afraid to let others see me that way.  I was more concerned about preserving the feelings of others and not scaring them with my feelings than feeling my own feelings.  Everything I felt was so confused that to even let my thoughts wander a brief moment felt like I would be drowned from the inside.  I was afraid of everything.  I didn't trust anyone.  And when I did, I put my trust in the wrong people and only more pain ensued.  It felt like the whole world was a giant injustice and I wanted to fight against all of it and so I let myself be angry.  And the source of all my anger was my fear and my hurt but I didn't want to face it because it hurt too much.  I felt abandoned and like I abandoned my baby.  Try and wrap your mind around that.  I hated myself.  I hated love.  I hated happy families.  I hated God.  I hated religion.  I hated anything that made me feel.  I lost myself in my work for all the wrong reasons.  I didn't want to be left alone.  I couldn't stand to be alone with myself because it was when I was alone that I had to be in my own company and I didn't know what to do with myself.  I smiled at the world for their benefit because I didn't want pity and so it was easier to pretend only pretending made me angrier.  I felt desperate in everything I tried to do.  I put so much pressure on myself and if I fell short of the ridiculous expectations I set for myself then I hated myself even more.  I was mean to myself.  And I believed that all that I felt (all that I've explained here) was my punishment for the rest of my life for my indiscretions against God.  And so, I resolved to just survive.  Basically, I set myself up to fail.

It’s been nearly 4 years since “my” little boy was born.  It’s been nearly 3 years since after that first year away from him.  It feels like a lifetime.  And I’m not the same person that I was during that first year.  This post is for the new birth-mothers out there and anyone else who feels like they've lost themselves.  To the birth-mothers particularly, I remember what it feels like to hear the cry of your child in the middle of the night, only to wake up and find that your child isn't there.  I remember what it feels like to feel like you are losing yourself in a grief you don’t even know how to begin to understand.  And I can tell you, that you will find yourself.  One way or another, you will find yourself. 

I think I've found myself, most of me anyways.  It’s been a long time coming.  I don’t necessarily know how it happened either because it hasn't been a smooth process.  What I do know is that trying to find myself has been a constantly active choice.  I've slipped up more than once (there was actually 2.5 years of constantly slipping).  It’s been frustrating and has felt hopeless at times.  And then something shifted and all of a sudden “it” was obvious, but still without a road map.  You just “know”.  You catch yourself in your patterns of negativity and you realize that there is a different way to do things and so you start there.  I think that one thing that people forget about the grief cycle is that it is very much a cycle and there is a rhythm to it.  And each rhythm for each person is as unique as our fingerprints.  I finally figured out my rhythm.  Once you figure out your rhythm, the next step is to actively decide whether or not you are going to let the negative part of the cycle consume you, or if you are going to consider and recognize how much softer the blow “this” time around feels.  And it does get softer.  I promise it gets softer.

I am stubborn and my stubbornness, for a long time, was something that I used against myself.  Now, I use it to help myself.  I’m compassionate.  This is something I've always been and I allowed it to be used against me (not actively allowed it, but naively and truly not knowing any better).  Finally one day I decided that I would protect and advocate for myself like I protect and advocate for others.  What does this mean?  It means that I can still be compassionate towards others but not at the expense of myself.  Another thing I've learned is to accept what “part” of a mess is mine and not the whole mess.  I still get in sticky situations with people, only now I don’t apologize for their part of it, only my own.  I think it’s easy to use our bad experiences as crutches to life.  It’s easy to tell ourselves that we can’t do something and believe it because believing in our weaknesses is always an easier alternative to fighting for the sacred “something” we find every excuse not to go for.  After placement of Baby Boy, I found every excuse not to do things.  And now, I’m trying to find the reasons why I should do things.  It’s such a simple thing to say, and a lot of you out there are probably thinking, “duh.”  But, for me this was a huge understanding.

There is no recipe for finding yourself.  I truly wish there was because I think there would be a lot less hurt in the world.  Who do you want to be?  The only difference between that person and who you think you are now, is yourself.  As much as I wanted to believe for a time that the “thing” holding me back was the choices of those who used me or hurt me, what I finally realized is that it wasn't them.  Granted, they weren't helping me, but I was allowing “them” to use me.  I now realize that I command the caliber of people I allow in my life.  Old habits die hard, but there is a reason why habits die off. 

We've all been given one lifetime to live, but in the course of our one lifetime we adapt to time and circumstance too many times to count.  And the choices we make in the most desperate of times are the ones that shape our future.  And in that way, our one lifetime can become several.  And that’s a beautiful thing if you think about it.  Our circumstances, our sorrows, our angers, our hurts, our destruction's, our negative beliefs, none of those have to be the life we choose for ourselves.  And it’s in this way that within our one lifetime we can live as many lifetimes as we choose.  The choice is yours.  You have control of it.  You command your life.  If something isn't working for you, you have the power to change it.  No one says you have to live the life you've been given by circumstance or bad choices.  You can make your life what you want it to be.  If you told me this four years ago, I wouldn't have believed you.  Four years ago, I would have told you all the reasons why that truth (making my life what I want it to be) didn't apply to me.  But, four years later, out of my greatest paradox (my greatest sorrow and achievement) I can tell those of you who are struggling with serious hurt and sorrow, that this truth- making your life what you want it to be- most definitely applies to you.  All it requires is for you to believe in yourself the way you believe in others.  That’s where it starts.  That, an patience.

Where Do I Even Start?

(giant exhale).

The weird thing is... I can't stop thinking about weddings.  I'm not engaged.  I'm not dating anyone.  Right now I'm working on figuring myself out because, in the wise words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "We must be our own before we can be another's."

That doesn't stop me from constantly thinking about weddings.  And that's another weird thing is... I've never thought about weddings like I'm thinking about them now.  I was always the kind of girl who just wanted to elope because, why bother with all the drama and details, when it should just be about you and the one you love?  I'm learning now, that my thinking that was a little selfish.  I'm not judging those who choose to elope.  The closest I ever wanted to come to a formal wedding was when I considered going to the court house and being married by a judge... simple.  White dress, the man I love, the wedding rings, a couple witnesses, the marriage license, a few spoken words from the heart... and then your done.  True, for me, the focus was always about what came after the wedding.  My own family.  My life with my husband and growing our family together.  That's all I've ever wanted and that's a worthy dream to focus on.

Here's the part I never thought of... how important a wedding may be for the other person involved.  The opportunity to share with everyone you know, the love you have for the person you are "binding" yourself to.  A celebration of your joy in your choice of companion.  A time where everyone you know and care about enough to invite, comes and welcomes you off into the new phase of your existence with the one person you've always hoped to find, and have found.  Those are really important things.

I almost that once.  I'm not talking about with baby daddy.  What I had with him was all lies and betrayal.  I'm talking about another man that... has already taught me so much in this life by his example, alone.  He wanted this big wedding with elaborate... everything... and I was so intimidated by all of it.  I warmed up to it, for him because it was important to him.  But I was scared of the "bigness"... of being noticed... of being recognized... I don't know how to explain it.  All I know is that now, the "big" and very public wedding is all I want.  It has nothing to do with the decorations or the location, or the theme... when I say "big", I'm not talking about inviting an entire city of people I don't know.  It's about the joy.  I want to share my joy with those I respect and appreciate are in my life.  I want them to be a part of the ushering in of "the next step" in my life.

This is all a jumbled mess.  I'm just barely starting to sort this new part of me out and, quite frankly, I don't know what to make of it.  While I am a feminine woman who is soft spoken and trying to live as graceful a life as possible... I've never been the sort of woman who willingly shows her delicacy... and it's something I'm learning the balance of right now.  For too long I've been stubborn and closed off... I'm opening up now, and this is one of the weird unexpected things that is surfacing and it's very new to me.  It's giving me ideas of the theme color for next year, but I'm still researching it so I won't unveil it just yet.  But, this has been on my mind enough lately that it was important to me to share it with you all.  Here's to letting whatever comes next in life to unravel on it's own terms.

Hopeful Adoptive Couple: Meet Melissa and Tim

I am excited to introduce you all to Melissa and Tim.  I have really enjoyed getting to know them and they are wonderfully kind people.  I was hoping to have their spotlight up last week but with the illness of my kitten and his passing, everything in my life got a bit delayed.  They have been so understanding and I appreciate the kindness that they have extended towards me.  So, without further ado, meet Melissa and Tim.

How did you meet your spouse?  How long did you both date before you decided to get married?  How long have you been married?

 Oh we love telling the story of how we met J 

The story begins with Melissa and her best friend deciding what to do one Saturday night in October.  They were close to New Brunswick and so the logical choice was the local college hang-out, The Melody.  Tim, as a regular fixture at the Melody, was there also and he spied Melissa & started to chat with her. Tim gathered the courage to ask for her number. Melissa wasn’t sure about this Stussy-baseball-hat-wearing-guy, but when he told her to feel his “rabbit soft hair” that cinched the deal & Melissa gave him her number. Little did Tim know, but this one comment appealed to Melissa’s love of animals, especially soft, furry ones!
Melissa received a scholarship to Duke University in North Carolina, so a good portion of our relationship was long distance. While Melissa headed to NC for a year of studies, and then a year in Washington DC, Tim remained in NJ. We both knew that to continue our relationship, we’d eventually have to minimize the 250 mile distance! Since Tim was traveling for work at the time, it was much easier for him to move. So the decision was made to be as close as you could be:  we moved in together.  
We bought a home, we adopted two adorable cats, we got married, we built a happy life together jam-packed full of memories with family and friends, hikes in the woods, kayak trips on the river, and travel.  We can’t believe how much time has flown by.  We’re about to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary in October and are as much in love as we were back in 2002!  We’re looking forward to sharing our future and a whole lot of love with a little one to call our own and create even more happy memories!

What was the first thing you really came to appreciate about your spouse and why was that quality/characteristic important to you [if the ladies of the couple are answering this, then grab your husband's and have them answer it for you as well ;)  ]?

 Melissa about Tim: Wow, only one thing, that’s pretty hard because he’s such a good mix of characteristics – he’s kind, he’s affectionate, he’s strong and protective (he cooks! He adores animals!).  Sorry, I really can’t pick just one).  When we were dating, I realized he was “the one” when I’d had a bad day and he just made it (in fact, everything) seem better.  He didn’t get worked up about it, he was calm and supportive.  Friends call me a “smitten kitten” when I talk about Tim but I do adore him and I know he’ll be an amazing, caring father.  I can’t wait!

 Tim about Melissa: Melissa has a wonderful way of having fun with life. Her ability to be silly and cute, and enjoy even the most mundane things, makes my life with her that much better. She balances this fun and silly side with intelligence and focus when it's needed. She is definitely one of the smartest people I've ever met. We have a very similar sense of humor and make each other laugh every day. Whenever I see here I can't help but smile. We really do compliment each other's personalities. I often think, "How did I get so lucky?"

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

 Well there are lots of traditions that we both bring from our families but with just the two of us, we created some new ones:  For Christmas, we pick out the Christmas tree on December 12^th (an important family tradition for Melissa is observing the 12 days of Christmas).  At the Christmas Tree lot, we go rooting around in search of the perfect tree for us – usually Melissa just knows which one it is and proceeds to literally hug it… yes, she’s a tree hugger!   

We kick off the Christmas season with friends and family and their little ones with an annual holiday Cookie Makin’, Bakin’ and Decoratin’ (and Eatin’) Party that we host at our house.  The smell of freshly baked cookies fills the air, sprinkles, cookie decorations, powdered sugar and cookie icing is absolutely everywhere but it is so much fun!  We cap it off with warm cookies, cold milk and a viewing of Elf.  We can’t wait to introduce our little one(s) to this annual tradition! 

For Tim’s father’s birthday all the siblings, spouses and the kids gather for an awesome day of apple picking.  It is so much fun.  There’s tree climbing, apple tossing, apple eating, a lot of joking, apple wagon riding and photo taking!  The crisp Fall day always wraps up with a delicious meal with the whole gang. 

When we bring our little one home, we know that we’ll be celebrating many more traditions – some silly like Half Birthdays; pancake day (like we celebrate in England) ; trick or treating in home-made costumes (it was so much fun planning and making our costumes); later first day of school.  Putting shoes out for the return of the three kings like Melissa’s mother did when she was a little girl; writing letters to Santa; the traditional Easter Egg hunt around the house… all sorts of customs from both our childhoods that we can’t to share!

If you currently do not have children, how long have you been trying to grow your family?

We’ll be married 10 years in October – we are so happy with each other that it doesn’t seem that long!  Well, about 4 years into our marriage we decided to start trying to have a family.  We struggled for years to get pregnant and sought medical help.  After years of being jabbed by needles; having enough blood drawn to satisfy all the vampires in TrueBlood and Twilight combined; we finally got pregnant! But sadly, we miscarried each time.  It was too much.  We realized, at this point, there was another way.  One that would actually help someone else as much as it would help us:  Adoption was the clear answer!

We completed our homestudy in December of 2011, we were so excited to start the New Year on a positive note: We were going to build our family through adoption and we’ve been telling EVERYONE ever since!

How has your experience in the world of adoption mirrored or changed your expectation of adoption?

 Well, we knew it would take time.  We’ve been really fortunate to have a lot of cheerleaders (family, friends, and total strangers!) who’re there to encourage us.  Because we’re pursuing independent adoption, we are doing all the outreach and raising awareness ourselves (so we’re really thankful to Kathryn for profiling us on her blog) – we tell everyone we meet, and total strangers are so kind with encouragement, good luck and blessings. 

We’re not looking for “a baby” we’re looking for “our baby”.  We know that when the time is right a very special woman will read our profile and make the courageous step to call us.  We believe she’ll know in her heart that we’re the couple she wants to raise her baby…. Wow, we just can’t wait for that connection and to meet her!

How do you define open adoption?  What is open adoption to you?

We would define an adoption as open when the adoptive and biological parents  know each other and maintain a relationship before, during, and after the adoption – all for the benefit of the child(ren). The degree of openness will depend upon the circumstances of the expectant mother and father.  As the parents to our little one, we would always want our child(ren) to feel secure that we are their parents forever and they are part of our family forever.  There will be no secret for our little one(s) that they were adopted - precious, cherished, and wanted.  Having them know about their birth-family is an important part of this.

We do plan to work out a written agreement with our birth-mother.  We certainly do not want to break any promises after we have received the most amazing gift.  We want to honor our birthmother’s choice and trust in us to be absolutely brilliant adoptive parents.

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

 Well in an ideal scenario, we’d be absolutely thrilled to accompany our birth-mother to the doctor(s).  We know that this is totally up to our birth-mother but we would feel very honored if she would allow us to enjoy the milestones of her pregnancy with her. 

Again, ideally, we’d like to be within reasonable driving distance. This would allow for more frequent face to face meetings and visits. If an expectant mother is interested in us as potential adoptive parents for her baby, and isn’t geographically close, we’d use technology to get to know each other.  We were in a long distance relationship for a long time so we know that postcards, emails, texts, video chat and calls can really bridge the distance!

Getting to the point of being totally comfortable with each other, and building a real friendship with the birth-mother is important to us, but if this is not the desire of the birth-mother, we would, of course, honor her decision, and always be grateful for allowing us to build a family.

If you have yet to adopt, how do you anticipate building a relationship with the birth-mother?  How important do you perceive the relationship between you and birth-mother to be throughout the entire process that is adoption (pre-placement, placement, post-placement)?

 The key would be for as much communication as possible.  Of course this starts with that first phone call from an expectant mother… it is thrilling for us, but we’re sure is pretty nerve-wracking for an expectant mother!  Hopefully our profile has given some sense of who we are, but we know the expectant mom will have many questions for us as she makes her big decision.  We know she may have some tough questions but we always promise to be truthful and, of course, we would expect the same.  You can’t build a relationship unless there’s a good foundation of respect and honesty. 

We’d take our lead for the relationship from the expectant mother, while we’re eager to build our family through adoption; we want our birthmother to make her decisions because it is what SHE wants.  We’d hope that she has a good circle of family and friends, as well as the birthfather, who’d support her in her decision.  We’re ready to talk to the birthfather, relatives, friends and anyone else that the expectant mom would want us to – so that she can make her decision.

As we move forward toward placement, we’d do everything to keep that open communication going, by being supportive of her needs and wishes.  Of course we know that this will be an emotional time and believe our foundation of honesty will carry us through.  We’d hope that we’d become friends to continue a relationship after placement.  Not just for the benefit of our adopted child(ren) but because of how much respect and admiration we’d have for the woman who’d choose us.

For any young woman considering placing her child for adoption, and who is reading this right now, what do you want to say to her? 

First, anyone considering making a plan for adoption is extremely brave.  To make such an unselfish and absolutely loving decision is amazing.  We can’t even begin to imagine how difficult this must be, and know that what’s in front of you now is an enormous life decision.  We imagine that picking THE best parents that YOU want for this little one may seem quite daunting.  But know that many, many people would cherish your little one – just as we would.  You are giving an adoptive parent the greatest gift possible, and as you talk with potential adoptive parents for your child, we believe you will know when you have met the right ones.

We want you to have the peace of mind that we will be the best parents we possibly can be – loving – encouraging – giving all the opportunities that we possibly can, so that this baby has an amazingly bright and happy future..  We want you to know, through conversations and meeting us that we have the foundation (in a great friendship and marriage) to provide a loving, secure and fun future for this baby.  We would forever consider it a privilege to be shaping a young lady or young man, instilling in them self-confidence, and compassion for others.  We would encourage them in their own pursuits; helping to bring out their own, unique personality.  We hope that with an open adoption, we can confirm that the decision you made, to pick us, was absolutely the right one. 

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

Yes, we’d love anyone reading this to consider getting to know us a little more by visiting our website www.melissaandtimadopt.wordpress.com 

Thank you!

♥

Perspective at Village Inn's Ladies' Room

There is something that I've been mulling over for a couple of weeks now, which is pretty new to me as I used to just blurt things out as they came to me without fully thinking through what it was I was saying or trying to say.  I was having coffee with a friend of mine and we were having one of those really great conversations where you are completely engaged in the dialogue and it is uplifting dialogue and you are learning a lot from it.  We were also laughing a lot which is always a nice thing to do.

I don't even fully remember what we were talking about, but what I do remember was visiting the ladies' room and having one of those thoughts that seemingly come out of nowhere and have massive impact of yourself as you know you.  Oddly enough, all those kinds of moments that I just described always seem to happen while I'm in a bathroom, or while I'm brushing my teeth.  

I work for a law office and so I am used to being analytical about every major piece of information that comes in to my hands.  The type of family law we primarily do is the kind that involves a lot of reading between the lines and asking the difficult questions to the stuff that doesn't add up right (yes, there is a kind of math I do relatively well with, it just doesn't involve numbers).  I analyze everything.  Outside of my employment, as an English major... I'm always analyzing the text and trying to figure out what is beneath the suggestion that are the words on the paper.  

While this analytic nature works well in my scholarly and professional worlds, it doesn't work well at all in my interpersonal world... in fact, it's been quite damaging to that world.  In the scholarly and professional worlds where I'm analytic and questioning the texts I'm given, it works because I'm supposed to find the loop-holes and pieces that contradict one another and I'm awesome at that; I've protected children from some pretty horrible situations because of my ability to really know what their parent's are saying without saying.  

But, you see, in my interpersonal world it's different.  What I learned at the Village Inn ladies' room... the thought that came out of nowhere and left me dazed and alarmed like I'm pretty sure a 2x4 to the head would impact me was that... analyzing your interpersonal relationships... it doesn't work.  You aren't supposed to look for loop-holes or confused stories when they really just don't exist in the first place.  And when you start doing that... you are weaving your own insecurities into the actions of another person.  That's the big thing I learned.  It is no secret that in my past I've been traumatically hurt.  And that word, "traumatically"... yeah, it's not an exaggeration.  

All of you out there reading this blog faithfully know of a small portion of the traumatic hurt I've faced.  But, the truth is that what you know is only the tip of that cliche iceberg; it's the result of a part of the underlying and ever invasive emotional injury.  Sheesh, that sounds so dramatic.  Maybe you all already knew this simple fact that when we analyze the actions of other's and, in doing so, only ever see the things that don't add up even if those things are creations of our own beliefs, and not actually truth... then ultimately all we are doing is weaving our insecurities in the actions of everything around us.  It's hard to trust anything when you live your life that way.  And I get that now.  For whatever reason that truth has evaded me for the longest of times, but I get it now.

That's not to say that there are people out there that don't have cause for suspicion.  But, when you place that suspicion on to someone who has only ever shown you kindness and respect and purity of love... and you let the thoughts of other's just as distrustful as you assist in tightening the weave of your own individual brand of insecurity... then it's not good.  I don't fully know what this post is.  I'm just excited about the moment of clarity I received in the ladies' room of Village Inn.  That sounds weird, but it's true.

If you could feel the quiet joy in my heart right now then I think it would explain it perfectly.  For as important as it is to ask the questions and get the answers, and be suspicious of people when it's necessary, there is no balance in doing that with everyone you meet.  Just as there is no balance in just existing in a moment that feels wrong but you don't dare understand why.  Analyzing is red, and turning a blind eye is blue... but trusting and believing in good when you've witnessed it time and again in a person, especially when that person answered the difficult questions... that's yellow.  And, yellow is joy; yellow is warmth, yellow is honesty, yellow is humility.  Yellow teaches you to imagine and believe that life and people can be good.  Yellow is your instinct telling you that it's either right or wrong, it's that part of you that knows without having to be encouraged by others.  Yellow is balance and having hope in faith is yellow.  Balance is patient and balance is peace in the instinctual.  Balance is a delicate truth that can come to us in the most unusual of places, but it comes to us regardless, even if it is the ladies' room of a family restaurant.

Babies on my Mind

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.