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.

It's Been a While

I feel bad that I haven't written for a while.  Things have been really busy for me.  A new semester started and I am in a Creative Non-fiction writing class, an Intermediate Poetry writing class, and an Intermediate Algebra class.  The combination of these classes means that I barely have time to sleep.  Also, I am tutoring 5th graders in reading at a local elementary school.  I'm trying to get other areas of my life in order as well, and so I've just had a lot of different things competing for my time.  What I've realized is that I need to include making time for writing on this blog, because this blog is an outlet for me.  It's a way for me to connect with people I care about and who care about open adoption.  My lack of writing doesn't mean that I haven't been thinking a lot about what I would write about.  And as usual, what I want to write about is hard to explain, but I will definitely try my hardest to say it.

My poetry class and my creative non-fiction class have really pushed my limits as far as writing and the construct behind writing.  I've always felt like I was an "okay" writer of poetry, but this class has shown me that... there is a lot I didn't know.  Ironically enough, I was more worried about going in to my creative non-fiction class because I didn't know what it would involve (this genre of writing is hard to define, therefore my hesitancy), but it's proven to be the class I am doing best in.  As for math... I have nothing pleasant to say about it.

The semester is officially half-way over.  And for the 8 weeks that have passed, I have been living in the land of memory because I've had to write a personal essay that was just critiqued in front of my entire class 2 days ago.  Not all of it has been pleasant.  For the next 7 weeks, I will continue residing in the land of memory, because I have another entire-class critique the week before finals.

I've been dealing with some other things on top of the stress of this semester.  Something I haven't written about that I am going to mention right now is that back in April of this year I decided to separate ways with my family.  I'm not going to go into the details of this decision on here, but I feel like it is necessary to let you all know because you all have been an important part in my growth and healing after placement, and honesty is important.

Simply put, this year has been hard.  The decision I made in April, I made because I felt like I was disappearing.  I can't describe that feeling.  I was caught up in so many people's extreme emotions and I was trying to make it all better for everyone involved, and what it was doing to me was erasing me.  It was at this time that I started considering that maybe I had a severe mental health disease because I didn't trust anyone, especially myself.  So, I did something for myself.  I shut myself off from all the confusion and I have been working through the confusion ever since.

I've been sorting through the confusion of my life and I'm better for it.  For as hard as this year has been for me, I'm grateful for it.  When you have people from every angle whispering insecurity in you and you lose your voice amidst all of the anger, that's when you begin to disappear.  I cut off all the noise and I'm better for it.  I'm more at peace with myself.  I'm more secure in myself.  I'm happier.  I think that's hard for certain people to hear because they don't want to believe it, but it's true.  I have a focused idea of where I want my life to go now and it's not competing with the whispers of everyone else.  Sometimes I still hear echoes of the whispers because of the actions of others' and how they are still affecting my life in an attempt to gain control, but I know how to ignore them now, and I'm better off for it.  Those people know who they are and I know how reading this post may make them feel, but that's not my problem anymore; it belongs with them.

I've been afraid to blog because everything I do right now is being analyzed by people who I really don't want to have contact with anymore.  But, this is my blog.  And these are my feelings.  And I will not stop expressing them.

On that note, I'd like to share a poem I came across that I've been thinking about over the course of this semester so far.  It is by Wislawa Szymborska who just recently passed away.  She is a woman of Polish descent who survived the Holocaust.  She has a beautiful way of expressing vulnerability and strength at the same time and I appreciate her poetry for that reason.  Enjoy.  The meaning is left up to you, that's the beauty of poetry (it is something for everyone); I already know what it means to me.

Under One Small Star

My apologies to change for calling it necessity.
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.
I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage, 
your gaze always fixed on the same point in space, 
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity, please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man.
I know I won't be justified as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
the labor heavily so that they may seem light.

-Wislawa Szymborska

That Memory Place

I have a poor memory.  It's something that has bothered me for a while now.  I don't remember names and I don't remember specific every day events, and on occasion I don't even remember the context of certain conversations.  And lately I've been thinking a lot about my childhood.  For the longest time I didn't remember specific events from my childhood that siblings remembered; old family friends, etc.  It has bothered me for so long and on a level that caused discomfort.

Today, I had the crazy idea to look up an old childhood home on Google Maps from when I lived in Missouri.  Have you all played around with Google Maps?  If you have, then you know of the awesomness of it all.  I don't remember street names.  I just remember random facts, but today I started with a small ghost-like town I lived in name Mayview Missouri.  It's tiny.  As of the year 2000, the census reported a grand total of 294 people who reside in this town.  I don't remember it being that big... maybe it was, but to me it was big in a different way.

What I remember.  Mayview felt excluded from other areas.  It is nestled between Lexingoton, Bluesprings, and Odessa (if memory serves me correctly) and I remember going to the Wentworth Military Academy to go swimming.  People would practice their scuba diving at the bottom of the deep end of the pool and I would inch my way down there, clinging to the wall, so that I could dunk my head under water and watch them; sometimes they would wave at me which would make me laugh so hard.

I lived at the bottom of a hill and from the bottom of the hill a long road (turns out it's name is Long Road... imagine that) stretched forth before you and it made me feel like Dorothy  when she was trying to find her way back to her aunt's at the beginning of the storm... I just knew that it had to have led somewhere pretty spectacular, but I don't know if I knew that it just led to another town.  It was a road we would drive often.  At the top of the hill was Pastor White's home... I think that was the family name.  His home shared the property with the Baptist Church and across from the Baptist church was another church; I want to say it was Catholic... I remember a giant cross out front.  Every Sunday the two churches would open their doors wide and try to out-sing each other.  at least that's what it sounded like because the music would progressively get louder and louder.  One summer, my mother signed me up to practice with the Baptist choir, I don't know why she did this.  I'm thinking maybe it was for some summer structure; I don't know.  All I remember was that at the tender age of 7 I realized that I lacked severely in rhythm and that singing was a way to praise God, "probably the best way" I remember thinking.  We sang this song about not going in the water... okay, I just found the song on Google (got to love The Google, it knows everything).  It's called "Wade in the Water" and it's a negro-spiritual and the below video is a youtube video with this song, and it's done beautifully.

And I remember the pastor was pounding the crap out of the piano he was playing on with one hand while leading the choir of children, which I was a part of.  I remember it was alarming but also the coolest thing I'd ever experienced up to, and including that moment.

Where am I going with this?  I guess I just had a cool experience on Google Maps.  All I remembered, structurally, from this town was these 2 churches.  When I looked them up on the map, I couldn't find them and so I just started playing around with the street view.  Thankfully, Mayview isn't that big so it didn't take long to figure out where I was and where I wanted to be.  I found the childhood home I lived in while I lived in Mayview.  It was weird and awesome.  Everything is so different.  All the boarded up and condemned buildings that were there 20 years ago, I didn't see any sight of them.  It was just houses.  And the home I lived in, all the roses were gone.  We had so many roses.  That was the home that I never turned 7 in.  What that means is technically I never had my 7th birthday.  I kept getting sick for all the reschedules, so it just never happened.  I don't say that in a hurt way, I say that in the way that it will become handy when I'm turning 40 and I can still say that I'm technically 39.  How's that for thinking outside the box?

On Google Maps, I went through the streets one by one and specific family homes stood out to me.  Like the home of one of my friends.  I think her name was Anna (I was only 6 at the time).  Looking back on all of it, I'm pretty sure her family were Ozarks people... and if you know anything about the South, you know what that means (smiling and nodding head), not to say that Missouri is the south or deep south for that matter, but it's south enough :)

I remember my friend Timmy.  He made a big deal out of me being white (laughing out loud).  Yeah, in Missouri I was the minority and it was a great experience for me in more ways than one.  He was a bigger black kid and my dear friend.  As was Xane (Zane).  We were buddies and we would play tag at recess.  We would also play in this carriage-jungle-gym thingie on the playground.  It was a carriage.  We wouldn't play princess stuff though... I was never the damsel in distress, that was my friend Tonya.  She was the damsel in distress, and I was one of the thieves along with Xane and Timmy.  We were merciless in our plunderings.  They would also climb trees with me and we would hide and plan our next attack on the carriage.  We weren't supposed to climb the trees on the school property, but that never stopped us.  It's fun to remember this stuff.  

I guess the reason this is such a big moment for me and one I'm blogging about is because Missouri was a huge part of my childhood and one I cherish and miss.  And also, so much can change in 1 year... and it was truly shocking to see how much more can change in 20 years.  It feels like it was another life.  Also, my perception has changed from just 1 year ago.  For the longest time when I would think about Missouri, the main thing that would stick out in my mind was the horrible teacher I had in the first grade who would belittle me and humiliate me on a near daily basis, in front of the rest of class, simply for being Mormon.  That was a horrible experience and that was the one I always remembered.  Now I remember Xane and Timothy and Tonya.  I remember Ms. Moorhead who was the coolest teacher I've ever had.  She was the first teacher I respected; I was in the 3rd. grade.  

Perception is so interesting.  It changes as swiftly as the temperament of the person whom it belongs to.  Mrs. Allenbaugh was the name of my 1st grade teacher who was extremely horrible to me and I held on to a lot of anger towards her for years.  I don't anymore.  In a way, I guess I'm grateful for her.  I think it's in gratitude that we forgive and are able to move forward in life.  I've said it before, and I say it again, my mission in this life is to learn all I can about unconditional love.  Mrs. Allenbaugh taught me a valuable lesson about love; it is that no matter how different someone is from you, or the things they believe, or the practices they enact and preach, they are deserving of love.  Even if they don't meet the expectations or qualifications or standard of life that you require... they deserve your love.  Furthermore, love is not your's to withhold from those who don't behave in accordance with your ideals and values.  We are all creations of something much bigger and Christian law warns us against judging others.  She taught me that love is not something that is used to judge.  She taught me that love is not a tool used to accept or deny a human being because they are different from you.  I would not have been able to learn this valuable lesson had it not been for Mrs. Allenbaugh.  And so, in letting go of the anger I've wasted on this woman for so many years, I express my gratitude out into the cosmos in the form of good karma.  I hold no ill-will towards this woman anymore.  I have better things to exert my energy and time upon.  

I miss Missouri.  I hope to re-visit it one day.  I hope to one day re-visit my old childhood homes and favorite climbing trees.  More than that, though, I hope that my future children will be blessed enough to grow up in an environment where they have free-reign over their imaginations and adventures.  I hope that I can offer that kind of freedom to my future children.  That's something worth striving for.

Soul Food

Today I'm getting spiritual.  I don't think it necessary to declare the religion I associate myself with because it doesn't matter.  God is God and he loves his creations.  Whether you are Buddhist, Wiccan, Catholic, Baptist, Vegetarian... a Lawyer... we all believe in something bigger than us and whether you worship a llama, a cow, life as life, a fierce God, a loving God, a God-like father, nature, or money, that thing that you believe in that is bigger than yourself, it makes you strive for something more.

I am Christian.  I am a Christian who has a close relationship with nature and loves open spaces.  What does that have to do with anything?  I don't know, I just thought I would share that with you.  Where I'm going with this post is I've been feeling like I need to post a blog, but every time I've logged in to do so... I sit at my keyboard for a portion of time and my mind is blank.  I just sit here, hands poised upon my keyboard, staring at the screen... and nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  So, I thought that instead of setting out to write something inspiring and world-changing, that I would just let you all know what's going on in my life.

I'm attending a group alongside my personal therapy and in my group, a thought has been shared a couple of times by the facilitator that I wanted to share here.  It's been the one thing that has been primary on my mind lately.  She was quoting another source, which I can't remember, but she said, "Sometimes we confuse who we are with where we are."  That's a pretty profound thought to me.  I think the "where" in this quote can be reflected on in different ways.  When I initially heard her say this a couple of weeks ago, my initial thought was that I feel like I'm in this "blah" kind of place.  I've lost a lot of motivation in certain places, and yet I'm completely motivated in others.  "Where" can be emotional, it can be physical, it can be mental, it can be cosmic... it can be spiritual.  This begs the question, "Where am I in these places?"  

--Emotional:  I'm a bit hurt.  I'm a bit gun-shy... "gun" meaning shy of trying anything new and "shy" meaning, scared crapless.  How is that for eloquence?  I'm angry in one emotional sphere, and hopeful in another, and the common thread between those two places is that I'm ridiculously cautious in moving forward.  But, frightened is not who I am.  And that's the point.  I look back at the experiences I've had and not once to I see a frightened girl-child, but instead I see a determined woman who will see "it" (the experience) through and she does it with a grace and strength that I've never claimed as my own before.  So, while I'm gun-shy at life, I am determined to follow through with what is important to me and I will not give up until I find resolve and peace.

--Physical:  This is the main part of the "blahness" I've felt.  I've lost a lot of motivation in my personal weight loss.  Having said that though, looking back on my previous attempts, I don't know that the desired outcome was one I truly believed in.  Part of that lack of faith in myself and my desired outcome was not for the lack of constant support I received from people in my life, but it was in my not believing in myself, and my confusing who I am with where I am, "where" being this belief that I was undesirable if I didn't "fit" a certain mold, and that mold varied depending on whom I spoke with, but I feel like I finally have a better grip on who I am for me.  This is what I know:  I am here.  I am alive.  I am strong.  And that's enough.  The fact that I exist is enough to be enough.  I hope that makes sense.  Where am I?  I'm in a world where sexiness is defined in rather unhealthy proportions, whether that is physical proportion, or mental/emotional/social/spiritual proportions.  Who am I?  A girl who finally realizes that I don't have to be 120 pounds to be taken seriously as an active and valuable part of this Universe.  The fact that I exist is remarkable in it's own right.  Who I am is a woman deserving of happiness and a long life of health and joy.
-Mental:  this used to be a scary realm for me.  It was very muddles and confused.  I think the mental and the emotional are twin cousins... yes, twin cousins, they are immediately related, while still maintaining complete autonomy from one another.  I've kind of talked about this before, but the best way I can summarize it is where I was was confusion and a need to be what other's wanted me to be, at the sake of not becoming who I know that I am.  I am beautiful.  I talk about things that are difficult to talk about.  I can relate to any kind of person because my mission in life is to love and promote love... not physical love, but that kind of love that is unconditional.  I get it, some of my decisions frighten others, but I wouldn't be who I am without having taken any of the risks I've taken, and I wouldn't change them for the world because I know more about love than a lot of people claim they know.  That battle- that confusion of being told that you are wrong in who you are and the way you live your life- that alone is confusing where you are with who you are.  I see complicated and worthwhile where other's only see bad.  I see something deserving of a second, or third, or fourth to tenth glance, where other's only see something not worthy of time.  Because of this, the way I see things, I've been told for the longest time where I can make better decisions, and how to better live in accordance with the ideals of those telling me I'm doing "it" (life, my life) wrong.  And for the longest time I thought something was innately wrong with me.  Do you know what the definition of innate is?  It is "belonging to the essential nature of something."  Essentially, it is something that is natural to the thing it belongs to, so in context to what I just stated, for the longest time I thought that I was made of only wrong.  Where am I?  I'm in a world where perceptions rule and each perception is as unique as the person viewing it.  Who am I?  A loving human being who believes that life and love are worthy of taking risks, and what other's deem as a risk, is only viewed as a opportunity to me.


--Cosmic:  Where am I?  Earth, one of potentially billions planets that can sustain life.  Who am I?  Life worthy of living and so small in comparison to the Universe around me that my actions should not even peak on the radar of people who are concerned with their own existences and living the one life they will ever experience here.  I'm not saying I don't believe in life after this place, because I do, I'm saying that we will ever only know this life in this format, in this way, the way we are living it now... once.  Only once.  So, should not the focus be to live our life for ourselves and the way it feels right to us, instead of how other's believe we should live?  It's a s simple question.  Rhetorical, even.


--Spiritual:  This is where it gets religious-y.  Where am I?  A place meant to challenge me.  A place where I had to come in order to learn the spiritual concepts that only this place could teach me.  A place I chose to come when I new how everything would play out... a place I chose to come when I had the spiritual knowledge to know the end from the beginning... I still chose to come here.  Who am I?  A being much braver than I give myself credit for.  A spiritual child who, through my own sorrow and loss and sacrifice, understands my spiritual connection with my Mother-in-Heaven better than I ever thought I could.  A person who strives to know everything there is to know about love in it's highest and most noble form... and I chose to learn that here.

It is said that "The worth of souls is great in the sight of God."  Knowing this answers a simple but completely necessary question.  Who are we?  We are souls of great worth.  That's easy to forget when we compare who we are to where we are, and there is a major difference.  You can never do enough to change a core feeling about yourself that has been embedded in you for who knows how long.  We literally have to retrain our thought patterns that feed our core beliefs.  And this retraining has to happen with every breath.  With every breath we have to remind ourselves of who we are, and not base who we are with what is currently going wrong in our lives, which is the where.  That's hard, but nothing worth having is easy.  I'm an awesome lady.  I have a lot of love to give and who I am is a lot better than what my current hardships cause me to believe I am.  And that's something worth remembering every second.

We Are Never Meant to Fully Know, and Maybe That's the Beauty of it All

You know, I've been thinking a lot about what I want to post... I feel like what I had to say in my last post was only part of what I truly was feeling.  And it's taken me since my last post to recognize what the other part is.  I have sat down to do this post multiple times now and it never felt complete.  I'm sitting here tonight on the verge of an awesome moment.  Have you ever been acutely aware of that moment right before something awesome happens?  I don't know if I've ever been aware of it before.  And I've just been feeling it lately.  How do I describe it?  It's like a stretch... if you were a tree.  I'm smiling right now because I know that's a bizarre way of saying it and you are probably like "say wha?!"  I've been thinking a lot about trees lately.  I love trees.  You know that moment when you are laying in bed and the world is peaceful and you are secure in your covers and comfortable like an infant in swaddling?  And you look at your clock and you still have a good chunk of sleeping time left and the thought of that drives your contentment even deeper and you stretch... wide and long and you let out a sound of contentment as you stretch out and you can feel the stretch all the way from your fingertips to your toes.  It's like that... but if you were a tree and you were stretching off the frost of winter.

I'm in a place I've never been before.  I have no control over the major important aspects of my life.  I'm not saying I have no control, period, because that's not true.  I have control over waking up in the morning.  I have control of maintaining my hygiene and flossing my teeth.  I have control over going to work.  I have control over enrolling for school (which I just did).  I have control.  But in the major areas of my life that involve other people... I don't have complete control.  There was this time where I was trying to control and mediate everything between all the people I love most.  And... it didn't work.  And so I made a decision to not try and control any of it anymore and it was hard to come to the decision.  It's been the best decision of my life.  And I'm going to maintain the distance I've created.  But that means that a lot of the control I was trying to exercise and maintain... that I give that up as well.  And actually, I'm fine with that.  The idea of that helps me breathe deep.

Here's where I'm at.  I have no idea what's going to happen in the major parts of my life because I don't control every aspect of them.  I control my part in it and I know what I'm going to nurture and what I'm going to take a break from and that's all the control I need.  There is something about getting down to the basics and spending some time "there" in the Land of Basics, that really brings about a new perspective entirely.  And this is the place I'm talking about... that place that is on the verge of something really awesome.  And it feels good.  I compare it to a tree because I would imagine that if I were a tree and the last bit of winter melted away from me, my first inhale of Spring would rejuvenate my soul and the very root of my being.  And I would stretch that first breath of Spring to the tips of my roots that ground me in experience all the way up the to the very tip of every branch that I raise towards the Heavens in salute of gratitude for the morning.... and I would imagine that that kind of a stretch leaves an impact.  So whatever impact comes from this new place, I accept it willingly and openly and graciously because I'm seeing it with complete clarity and I can't wait.  And that's the point... the future should be something anxiously anticipated and excited for, and I'm there again.  I've let go of the control that bogged me down.  I've let go and the in-between place that kept me rooted when I wanted to stretch beyond myself.  I'm not caught or trapped anymore by the expectations of others... all I have are the beautiful expectations for my self.  And I'm excited for what's to come because I know it will be beautiful.

This is the clarity I was talking about in my last post.  I am grateful for all the difficulty of the last year.  I am grateful for all the experiences I've experienced that I thought would leave me soulless... that's not an exaggeration.  I have been to the place where I've wanted to wear Anger and Bitterness for the rest of my life... I've been to that place where Distrust was easier to swallow than Hope... I've been to that place where it didn't feel worth the fight anymore.  And I know exactly what it was that inspired me to push forward; deeply personal and sacred experience and vision of where I want to go.  It is at our lowest points in life that we see with the greatest clarity; I don't doubt this because I've lived it.  And I still am, but I'm learning to trust the clarity.  I wouldn't have had this clarity without the hardship and so I'm grateful for it.  I'm a blessed woman.  Not everything is in my control and I finally accept that truth; in fact I'm glad that it's not.  And, I don't know what's to come but I'm excited for it and I'm glad to be "here" again; "here" where I'm excited for what's to come because it's been a LONG time since I was last "here".

Open Adoption Roundtable #37

I missed the prompt for number 36, so if you are looking for it that's why you can't find it :)  You all know by now how awesome I think the woman who issues these prompts is.  And if you want to see other people's response to this prompt, you can find them here: http://openadoptionbloggers.com/2012/04/24/roundtable-37-after-a-visit/

The prompt this time around is:
How do you feel after a visit?


I remember the first time I saw Baby Boy after I placed him in the social worker's arms at the hospital.  He was four months old the first time I saw him after placement.  And he was chunky and so adorably perfect.  He was so round, it looked like he was missing a neck, and wrists/ankles, and elbows... he was all squish.  I was mesmerized by him.  It was hard to leave after that first visit.  And I remember feeling similar feelings from when I left the hospital.  I felt lost and unsure, but relieved for him at the same time.  But I missed him so deeply that it echoed in me.  I can't describe the feeling.  I missed him so deeply that I felt the hollowness in my fingertips... I felt empty, literally.


The next couple times I saw him, I was surrounded by his extended family and certain of my family members and it was in celebration for a very special religious observance for Baby Boy and his family.  It was hard not to feel the joy that was so contagious.  I remember feeling better when I left these events.  I felt happy for him and secure in knowing I made the right decision for him and that he was where he needed to be.  I felt love for his family and extended family.  It felt right and I didn't feel disconnected or empty like before, but I still didn't want to leave him because I felt like I wouldn't see him again.


The next 3 times was for his first birthday, and then an adoption walk, and then his second birthday.  I followed him around everywhere during those visits.  I was amazed by him and his growing and development.  He had my heart completely.  And I think he recognized me... at least my voice.  I remember when he would see me the first time he would look at me, furrow his brow like he was thinking, and cock his head to the side and just watch me.  I would giggle at his cuteness and I would say "Hi there sweet boy."  And it was at my voice that he would look at me straight on and hold his arms out to me so I could pick him up or he would engage in a different way, but he would always engage with me after he heard my voice.  When I left from these visits I didn't feel the anxiety I felt with leaving the other visits, rather I felt like I was leaving a family reunion and feeling secure in what was going on and that I would always be a part of them.


I just recently had the opportunity to go to the park with him and his mom and brother.  It was a blast.  I followed him around like I was the paparazzi and he knew he had an audience and he was totally performing for me.  He is absolute precious perfection.  He was animated and talking and interacting and engaging with me and I am absolutely and emphatically in love with this child of my heart.  It was time for all of us to go home, he had played hard and needed a nap.  I gave hugs goodbye and gave him kisses and loves and he let me love him and then I helped get him in his car seat and then when they were situated, I got in my car and I drove off.  I remember that drive.  The park wasn't too far from my apartment and so it wasn't a long drive at all.  I didn't feel anxious at all.  And I reflected back on the other goodbyes and my heart was warmed because this one was fine.  He is fine.  I am fine.  We are both fine and good and in a secure place.  I know that I will see him again.  If it's in a picture or in person doesn't matter, I'll see him again.  This is such a different place for me to be in.  I love him and I'm happy for him and for his family.  They are my family.  That's the big difference I believe.  I am secure in my relationship with his parent's via his mother that I know that he is secure and that he will know of me and he will know how much I love him and always will.  It's a good feeling.


It took time and consistency to get here.  I am so blessed that his parents have allowed me to be as actively involved as they have.  They handled all of this brilliantly.  They have kept the door open to me and they have included me in special events and through this I have recognized their love for me and that right there makes the partings easier.  I'm a blessed birth-mother to have them for my adoptive couple.  I am blessed.

Meditative Musings

I've been feeling very like... out of control lately.  And when I say out of control, I don't mean it in the way that at any moment I could do something reckless and stupid.  I mean it in the sense that... I don't feel like I have any control in my day-to-day life.  This post has so much potential to sound like a pity-party festival... and I don't mean it that way at all.  

Every day, I go to work and my actions and involvement in my cases are simply reactive to the destruction of divorced couples towards each other and their children.  Mom doesn't want to take daughters glasses to school because dad won't return daughter's cell phone to her... clearly the two aren't relevant in their solutions of each other, but daughter is getting headaches everyday because she is straining her eyes all day at school.  So, I react to that and I mediate between mom and dad to come to a productive decision... and when that doesn't happen (which is most of the time) then I talk to my boss and she issues an Order of the Court, which I draft, have her sign, and send to the parents.  And then the parent who is ordered to do something calls me up in a rage and I battle it out verbally with them for half and hour.  Nothing changes, the parents are still just as angry at each other as the day they filed for divorce, and the order only makes them more difficult to work with the next time mine and my boss' involvement becomes necessary.  I do that, Monday through Friday, every week, from 9:00 a.m. until there are no more fires to put out.  

I also assist in the divorce mediations at the office that we do daily; I draft the stipulations as agreements are made.  One of the requirements for Utah State is that divorcing couples participate in mediation before the finality of the divorce; it's more economical and less time consuming for the courts if they don't have to divide the Real Property, belongings, debts, etc.  Also, if parent time is involved and needs to be calendared, you can get something decided that is more conducive for both parents and more creative than regular statue, which the courts would order if left to them.  This past week alone, I have been at the office till 10:00 p.m. twice because of a long mediation.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, I actually leave work early to go to my classes where I talk about literature for about 2.5 hours and then I go to math... which is horrifying no matter how you look at it.  And then for the rest of the week, the time in between sleeping, work, and school... I am studying.  I don't even have time to cook... or clean... my bedroom looks like a hurricane blew through it.  For my literature classes, I am reading 2 novels a week.  I don't go to church because on Sundays is when I get most of my reading done.  I literally walk around my apartment with two books in my hands, one in each, and I switch back and forth in the reading.  I drink directly out of the milk jug... as I continue to read.  I've had too many accidents with spilled milk to count.  

It's frustrating.  I don't feel like I have time to exist.  I miss the gym.  I miss my friends.  I miss my nieces and nephews.  I miss watching movies.  I miss seeing the outdoors on the weekend.  I miss driving just for the sake of taking a drive and falling in love with the mountains.  My therapist gave me an assignment to make a list of 40  things that make me and my life worthwhile, as well as to look up at the sky everyday for 5 minutes.  I haven't done either.  The only time I see the outdoors, it's night time.  

I was really stressed about all this the other night.  I had a goal to get another 4.0 this semester, and quite frankly, I don't know if it's going to be doable.  But, I'm not going to give up.  I came to the conclusion that I need to just do it.  Just do it.  No more contemplating my schedule, no more feeling like I don't have time to invest... especially in myself.  I have put the gym off this entire semester because I didn't feel like I had the time to dedicate to it.  If it came between sleep and gym, I didn't have time for either because I've had a book glued to my face.  I've felt like I have to let one thing go in order to nurture something else and that is a horrible feeling.  I laid awake in bed making mental lists of all the had to be done.  Have you guys seen the movie "I Don't Know How She Does It"?  The part where she is talking about the science study about mothers who have children between certain ages don't get any sleep and it was unknown why that is.  Sarah Jessica Parker's character is talking about this and then she answers this unknown by stating that they don't get any sleep because they are awake all night mentalizing their lists of things that have to get done.  It's a funny movie.  That's been me this entire semester.  I lay awake at night thinking about all that needs to get done, when I should be sleeping.  This is the circular thread my mind was weaving the other night as I laid in bed stressing over how I'm going to nurture all that I want to nurture.  And then the thought entered my mind,

"There is no acclimating yourself to life, you just jump in full force and do it.  Push yourself to your limits and then push more.  Just do it!  Now is the time to go all out and live for you."

That's the answer, folks.  I know that I'm not the only one who lays awake at night with mental lists and stressing over getting everything done that needs to get done.  I know that I'm not the only one with a stressful job that feels all-consuming.  I know I'm not the only single birth-mother who is working full-time and going to school with what feels like an un-manageble credit load.  I know that I'm not the only over-weight woman out there stressing about her health and how she is going to fit exercise into her daily life.  So, what is the answer?  Instead of thinking about the process, we've got to just jump into it.  

I know this years focus is Balance and yellow.  And... jumping into it feels more Red, but analyzing every step is Blue.  And so, for this moment, jumping in is the only way to Balance out every aspect of my life that I want to nurture.  Sometimes there is Balance in jumping in full force.  There definitely isn't any Balance to nourishing only one part of your life and letting the rest go to the wayside because there isn't time enough to dedicate to it all.  Just do it.  I'm gonna just do it.

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.

Rubix Cube Human

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