The Mixed Emotions of our Open Adoption

Today we were lucky to get a visit from Tracey and Grandma Kay to celebrate Ben's birthday (a little late). I'm always surprised at how much emotional energy goes into these get-togethers. Not in a bad way, of course. It's just that it's impossible to see them without having a flood of memories come racing back. Memories that hold so many mixed emotions. On most days I just enjoy the joy and wholeness I feel with Ben in our family. But, our open adoption reminds me of the sorrow and the sacrifice that produced my joy.

There are no words to describe how humbling it is to be the recipient of love in the form of a baby. That is a kind of love and sacrifice that leaves me speechless.

When we first jumped into adoption, there were a lot of unknowns. Like, the obvious, who would choose us and why would they choose us, and who was the baby that would come into our lives. But, one of the big ones was how would we navigate the unknown territory of an open adoption after placement. I remember initially being terrified at the idea of it. And, though I hate to admit it, it made me feel shamefully possessive. But, the more I heard others' stories and the benefits of open adoption, I knew there had to be more to it.

What I wasn't prepared for was how much our open adoption would open my heart in new ways. On most days, I forget that Ben was adopted. Not in the sense that I forget the way he came to us, but I don't look at him and think, "oh, he's adopted, so he'll be treated differently" or whatever. I just think, "he's my son and I love him the same as I love Hugh and Lucy." But, when we meet up with his birth family, I'm reminded all over again of his adoption. I'm reminded of the emptiness of my infertility, that was in large part healed the first time I held Ben in my arms. I'm reminded of the sorrow that likely came to Tracey because of her selfless choice. I know adoption wasn't her first choice, but there were circumstances out of her control that guided her to seek adoption, all because she loved her son so much she wanted to give him something she wasn't able to at the time.

Processing this full range of emotion is draining, but I'm grateful for the reminder of how much my heart can feel. I've come to realize it is a gift to feel so much, to be reminded of the sorrows that have been healed and the joys that have filled the empty cavity carved by pain. The greatest gift I can give to Ben is making sure he knows his roots and the incredible love that motivated Tracey to place him in our family. There aren't words to express that to him. We teach him that by showing him and letting his birth mother show him when we come together. Our open adoption is truly all about love.

I Care.

Along with everyone else out there, I was shocked and saddened by the news of Robin Williams' death. It seemed so impossible that someone so apparently full of life and humor and kindness and love could be feeling so dark and lonely and without hope. I thought of the quote attributed to Ian MacLaren:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

If I could go back to yesterday and if I were personal friends with Robin Williams and if I'd been aware of whatever he was struggling with, there are two things I would have wanted to share with him.

1. This talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: Like a Broken Vessel. In particular, this powerful quote:  

Whatever your struggle, my brothers and sisters—mental or emotional or physical or otherwise—do not vote against the preciousness of life by ending it! Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Know that one day the dawn will break brightly and all shadows of mortality will flee. Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says, we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind. 

2. And, this video of one man's journey that had an abrupt turning point that saved his life:

The biggest reminder from this tragic news is that there are those around me who are silently suffering, with depression or addiction (or even both). And, I have to stop and ask myself if I'm doing anything to help lift their burdens, if I'm being sensitive to their struggles, if there is anything more I can do to help them know they're not alone. It's heartbreaking to think of anyone feeling so alone and so without hope.

It's too late to share this with Robin Williams, but maybe it isn't too late to share it with someone else out there who might need to hear it.

To all my friends out there who might be among those who are silently suffering, there is hope and love and light that are bigger and brighter than whatever we might feel in our darkest moments. And, there are people out here who care.

I care.

Voices

This afternoon when I dropped Ben off at school, his teacher mentioned that we were approaching Ben's year mark of being in his class, which meant that we'd be having a meeting soon to evaluate Ben's progress and goals. As a bit of side note, Mr. Brad commented, "you know, I'm going to do whatever I can to keep him in my class, but there's a chance that he may not even qualify anymore."

Two years ago I had Ben evaluated by an Early Start teacher who, at that time, almost diagnosed Ben as autistic, based on her first observations of him. After a couple of months she was confident that that wasn't the correct diagnosis, but there were still enough delays that we signed him up for her class and started working with her on getting him to talk and improve in other areas where he was delayed.

As soon as Ben turned 3, he "graduated" from that program and then made a very smooth transition to a different preschool with a teacher who specializes in Speech. I had assumed Ben would be in this class right up until he was ready to start kindergarten. The fact that he may not qualify to be in this particular class anymore came as a bit of a surprise. A great one! Don't get me wrong. It means that he's caught up to where he "should" be (whatever that means, right?) and there aren't any serious delays that need to be addressed.

Ben loves his teacher and the assistant. He has so much fun and it has been such a great place for him. He really has grown and matured so much socially. Ben has found his voice, in more ways than one, and has such a clever-thinking mind. I would love to have him home with me, but I think it'd be so confusing to him to all of a sudden not being going to school anymore. I know we'd find our own special things to do, just like I've been trying to do with the time I have with Hugh while Ben's at school. I just wasn't expecting to hear that today.

And, it kind of got me thinking about why that came as such a shock. So often I doubt myself and my abilities, especially when it comes to things related to parenting. I never feel like I'm measuring up... to what exactly? I have no idea! It's so absurd. But, still there sort of this constant feeling that I'm just not quite on par and may never be.

Where do those thoughts come from? I've always blamed the inner voice in my head. But, what if it isn't our inner voice? What if at some point down the road we find that voice to be from some much darker more sinister source that really preys on our weaknesses and seeks to make us miserable?

I don't think my inner voice is nearly so harsh or unforgiving. On any given day and in any given moment, we are bombarded with so many different emotions and experiences. The thoughts and feelings that come to us from different directions can all be so subtle. Unless it's some big moment, I don't really stop and consider where each thought and feeling comes from.

Starting today, I'm going to be more discerning to the different thoughts and feelings that come to me, because I have this sneaking suspicion that my true inner voice is much more like the still, small voice that whispers encouraging words that build and inspire. It could be that the negative really are coming from somewhere deep inside of me, but even if that is the true source, listening to it still isn't going to be helpful in any way.

I'm not anywhere near the mother I want to be or wish I were, but I am trying so hard... and I can look back and see how much I'm learning and how much I'm getting better at some things. And, even though I'm not perfect all of the time (who is, though?!), I do have some good moments and have figured out how to do some things right.

My biggest fear is totally botching this whole thing and ruining my kids for the rest of their lives. But, then I have moments - like today in my conversation with Ben's teacher - where I look back and see how far we've come together and how much we've been blessed in the process. And, I think we're all doing so much better than we realize. And, whatever negative voices are trying to convince us otherwise are just not worth listening to.

The First Rain

It rained all night long last night. The first of the season. I love falling asleep to the sound of raindrops gently falling outside. It's soothing and peaceful. It seemed to work its magic on the kids because they all slept remarkably well.

Marc had to be up super early to go to an out of town meeting with a client, and I half expected that either his movements would wake everyone else up or that I wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep. Fortunately neither happened and the three kids and I all slept in an hour later than usual.

We snuggled up on the couch under a blanket to try to get warmed up before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. I offered to make their favorite whole wheat pancakes, but they insisted that it was a cereal day. I didn't protest since cereal is slightly less work.

With Marc gone with the car and with the raining pouring down outside, our morning started off comfortably slow. I didn't mind the pace one bit. The kids were busy ransacking the entire house - well, actually just their bedroom and our front room - while I was busy catching up on some emails and other to-dos that I'd been neglecting.

It was when Hugh came running out of his bedroom with a plastic bag over his head, laughing at his robot impersonation, that I realized my neglect had gone on long enough. First, I firmly explained the danger of plastic over the head and then I hurried and tidied up just enough to make the house less of a booby trap. Then, came the fun!

The boys had piled the couch pillows all together and then placed their lawn chairs around it in a circle. They explained they were going camping, so I suggested we should roast some marshmallows. It was clear they thought I was just joining in on their game of make believe, but I thought it'd be more fun to make it a little more real. I grabbed three kebab skewers and a bag of leftover Halloween marshmallows. The boys squealed with excitement and Lucy did her nervous, bouncy dance that she does when she wants whatever is about to come more that she knows how to express any other way.

They put the marshmallows on their skewers and "roasted" away. They had so much fun that they asked over and over again the rest of the day if they could roast some more marshmallows.

I was able to distract them by asking if they wanted roasted hot dogs for lunch. I happened to have some in the fridge, as well as one of those cans of Pillsbury roll dough (which I never have). We wrapped up some mummy dogs and threw them in the oven. While they watched them cook through the oven door, I made a batch of pumpkin bread to maximize the energy used to heat up the oven. Is it weird that I do that?

It was perfect timing that as everyone was finishing up their lunch, the mini pumpkin muffins were just coming out of the oven. Except that Hugh declared he didn't like them and Ben thought they were too hot.

I cleaned up the dishes quick, then I got Lucy down for a nap while the boys watched "The Brave Little Toaster" or whatever it's called exactly. I dozed off, snuggled between my boys and with Einstein curled up on top of me. With my favorite snuggle buddies and the rain's gentle lure, I could not fight the invite to give in. It was the perfect pause for the middle of a rainy day, stuck indoors.

As soon as naps were done, the chaos got more chaotic. The yelling, the crying, the fighting, the complaining... I was relieved it was time to go running. My parents come over every afternoon to play and hang out and when my neighbor mentioned wanting to run in the afternoons I realized during the winter that would be totally ideal, since I'm not a big fan of running in the cold or the dark.

I normally wouldn't be too thrilled about running in the rain, but today it was exactly what I needed to finish off the second half of the day. I let the rain wash away all of my worries. I let the cool breeze blow energy into my soul. I let my body move and release built up stress and tension. I let my mind wander and think. I let the moment seep deep into my heart, feeling so grateful for the craziness of my life and for the tiny break I get every afternoon to refill my bucket, hoping to have just enough to fill all my little buckets before sending them off to bed for another night, followed by another day of rain.

Getting Fit

I have a friend who recently ran her first race ever, at the age of 37. She does not consider herself a runner, which I whole-heartedly disagree with. In my opinion, if you run, regardless of distance or pace, you are a runner. Go ahead, call yourself a runner. It feels good! I learned that she just started running a year ago and on that first day of running she was only able to run to the end of her street. But, she stuck with it and went back out there, day after day. One year later, and more than 70 pounds lighter, she completed her first race. She is so inspiring!

Hearing her story reminded me of where I started almost a year ago and made me reflect on what has worked and what hasn't, for ME. I started running on January 28, after giving myself almost 7 months to recover and adjust after Lucy's birth. That first time running, I did less than three miles and paced at somewhere around 14 minute miles. It felt awkward and uncomfortable to run, almost like I was running with two left feet. Since January, I've run two half marathons and have logged almost 600 miles in my training. I've been able to increase my pace to 8 minute miles on my shorter runs, and even though I wasn't focusing on losing weight, I've actually lost 20 pounds and I feel strong and healthy.

Here are a few things that have worked for me:

1) Set small, easily-attainable goals. And, then, constantly adjust them and make them more challenging. For example, I started off running (or walking) 3-4 days a week for 20-30 minutes, without any pressure of how far or how fast. I just had to get out the door and do something. Now, I try to get out 4-5 days a week and try to constantly increase my speed or my distance or both.

2) Set bigger, long-term goals. In other words, signing up for a race (or two) that would keep me motivated to keep pushing and keep reaching. I've found, though, that you can do this without signing up for races. Just pick a certain pace or distance that you want to get to by a certain date a few months out and then work toward it.

3) Find a workout buddy. I've run and trained for races all by myself and I've trained with people. It makes such a huge difference to have someone to exercise with. Talk to people you'd want workout with, ask around. You might be surprised to find someone else looking for someone just like you to join them in working out. It helps to have someone else working toward the same goals and someone that's depending on you to be consistent. I've been so lucky to have had lots of running buddies, sometimes even going on multiple runs on the same day.

4) Appreciate all the benefits. I don't put too much emphasis on whatever physical benefits that come from exercising, because I get so much more from my workouts that go way beyond the physical. There are mental, emotional, and spiritual benefits that come from being active and having a little time to myself to fill my bucket. I feel like running actually helps me be a better mom. Any physical benefits are just extra.

5) Listen to your body. When it aches, let it rest. When muscles are tight, stretch them out. When something is hurt, find things that will fix it. When it's hungry, feed it. When it's thirsty, drink lots of water. I've found that when I'm exercising, I naturally crave more healthy foods and drink a lot more - another side benefit to running. I try to listen to my body and be extra kind and gentle with myself.

6) Reward yourself. One of the best parts of being active is the feeling that I can eat anything without feeling bad about it. I'm not shy about rewarding myself... I just don't go overboard. I feel totally okay with splurging (even daily) on a small scoop of ice cream or a cookie or a handful of M&Ms, but I'm super careful not to put all three of those in the same bowl at the same time. (I'd at least spread them out throughout the day! haha!)

7) Don't get discouraged! Most results are going to happen so slowly you might not even notice them if you aren't paying close attention. Those slow changes are healthier for the body and are much more likely to last. If I take the 20 pounds I've lost since January, then it figures out to losing less than a tenth of a pound every day. Another way of putting it, I've lost one pound every two weeks. That's insanely slow, especially compared to results that some pills or diets will promise, but it's natural and it's healthy.

Just like everyone else out there, I have things about my body that are softer or rounder or curvier than what I sometimes want, but I really do love my body and love having this exact body of mine. I love moving, I love feeling alive, I love working my lungs and feeling my muscles burn. I also love food and I love feeling like I can enjoy the flavors and tastes even more when I'm doing what I can to be active. That is the best part!

I love Lucy!

Lucy is just over a year now, but my golly this little girl of ours is going to keep us on our toes. She just turned 16 months on Sunday. I took her in for her doctor appointment this morning. She refused to sit down on one of those baby scales for her weigh-in, so she stood there (naked) making all the nurses in sight laugh out loud. She weighs 26 pounds 2 ounces, and is now 32.5 inches tall, continuing her trend of being in the 90-something-th percentile in both. Within minutes, the doctor who was seeing her for first time, pegged her as the ham that she is, as she was running around the tiny office, doing her funny dance and laughing! I love her colorful personality!

She is a climber - her favorite place is the kitchen table, which she ends up on at least a dozen times a day, standing and smirking the entire time. Tonight she shook her head when we told her she needed to get down.

She is an eater - often eating as much as the boys and has already pretty much perfected the use of utensils.

She is a hider. She'll disappear and I'll look around for her and not find her anywhere. Call her name. No response. I've found her in our closet, behind the curtains, in the bathroom with the door closed, and on Sunday she actually went into my bedroom and locked the door behind her. How is that even possible?? Good thing the boys had already tested out locking themselves out of their bedroom because I knew exactly how to get the door opened to save my sly and silly girl. No panic at all, except trying to figure out how she learns how to do stuff like this.

She is a reader. She'll come snuggle up next to you with a book and pushes it at you until you push aside any and all distractions and read to her.

She's learning to talk. "Mom" is for Mom (of course!), but it's also for Dad, more, milk, and pretty much anything that she wants and gets excited about. Ball is another one that is for ball and pretty much any other toy. She meows, woofs, oinks, and growls. She says cracker, but it comes out in a bit of a growl. She says "down" for down, but also for up... funny girl! She can sign "more" and "please". And, water... that one is the best. Do you know what she says for water? She does the swallowing sound in her throat! Brilliant!!

She is an equal with her brothers. The boys were playing in their closet today with their flashlights and Lucy was sitting in there with them with a book in hand, just chilling with the boys. They don't get away with anything. They take a toy or food or something she has and she goes for blood. Luckily she hasn't drawn blood yet, but tears and pleas for mercy, YES! I'm always amazed at how scared they can be of her.

Lucy is as sweet and cuddly as you'd expect from a little girl, but she is feisty and strong-willed like you wouldn't imagine. She is so much fun! We were dancing around to songs from the Nutcracker this morning and she runs in circles, shooting her arms straight up into the air about every five seconds while still in motion. It's super cute, even if it is a little Richard Simmons-ish. But, stuff like that, where did she learn that from? I think there is so much innate about the personalities we're born with and the inner songs that move our lives. I love, love, love learning more about those innate attributes of my three little ones!

Full day of (birthday) Fun

Late last night I was up making these treats for Ben to take to school for snack time. I thought about taking some over to my parents' house for them to have a snack on their weekly drive down to the temple, but it was late and I was too tired. As I was laying in bed I had this idea that if Lucy happened to wake up at 3:30am for her feeding, then I'd take her and we'd go to my parents' together, knowing they usually leave around 3:45. Ideas like that usually pop up when I'm feeling guilty about letting my laziness stop me from doing something.

Well, guess what time Lucy woke up. 3:33am. I laughed to myself, then hurried into my shoes, grabbed my phone and keys and a baggie of granola bites ready to go, picked up Lucy out of her crib and headed out into the dark, cold night. She was clearly confused as I was putting her into her car seat, patting my chest as if to try to communicate it was only milk she wanted. Then, when she realized it wasn't coming right away, she cried half the way to my parents house (which was probably less than 2 minutes). I was so excited to see the surprised look on their faces to find us both there in the middle of the night just to give them some treats to start their day.

You can imagine my utter disappointment when we pulled onto their street at 3:39 to find that their car was already gone. We missed them. And, now I made this pointless trip in the dark with my crying baby. It would have been so perfect.

We got back home and it took Lucy a little longer than usual to get settled again, but she eventually did and we both got a little more sleep. I was tired, though, when morning officially came and Marc was nice enough to let me get a little more sleep while he took care of breakfast duties.

I knew that once I got out of bed, the day ahead was going to be crazy busy and there'd be hardly a moment of down time.

Made bread, got everyone dressed, made lunch, took Ben to school, went to the store, put Lucy down for a nap, Hugh helped me get ahead on some dinner preparations, picked Ben up from school, went to another store, frosted a cake, made more dinner preparations, then finally it was time.

I got the kids in the car with the three helium balloons they had picked out from the second store and headed over to my parents. We were trying to get to their house before they returned from the temple. We were just barely too late, which I figured out as we passed them on their way to our house. So we turned around and went back. The kids were so excited to jump out and run to wish GG a happy birthday.

It was such a sweet moment! All three holding big balloons, running toward her as she's getting out of the car. "Happy Birthday, GG!!" It was a big one this year, so we planned a little surprise - a scavenger hunt that would take her all around town to significant places from the last so many years of raising her family. At each stop she got a clue and a note or gift from each one of her children. I had made arrangements with my siblings to send me whatever they wanted to give her... and got something from everyone. It was so fun to put together and even more fun to watch her response at each and every stop along the way!

My mom has done an amazing job raising the eight of us. I don't know how she did all she did. I hope she was able to recognize along the way how much we appreciate all that she's done and how much it is still blessing our lives. We've learned valuable lessons, gained valuable skills and talents because of her encouragement and insistence, and desired to make more of ourselves, because of her example.

We ended up back at my house, to a late dinner of chicken cordon bleu, rice, and roasted asparagus, followed by a delicious fruit pizza topped with fresh raspberries and blackberries. It was such a fun day! Ben kept saying it was his party and his birthday. Hugh sang the cutest version of Happy Birthday I've ever heard (and we got it on video, too!). Both boys loved helping to blow out the candles. Such a full day of fun!

The Sunday Circus

When I was young I used to love Sundays because they were relaxing, and as soon as church was over I could chill out, sleep all day, do whatever I wanted. But, since having kids, Sundays have taken on a completely different meaning. They've gone from being the most relaxing day of the week to quite possibly the most exhausting day of the week.

We usually get up around 7:30am. I get breakfast started while Marc hops in the shower. I get the kids and myself fed and start cleaning up when Marc stops through to grab his plate (or bowl) and eat quick before he has to leave for his 8:30 pre-church meetings. After he's gone, I get the kids' church bags together - a couple of story books, a couple of toys, a notepad & pen, and a quiet book. Then, I get the diaper bag ready - diapers, wipes, water and snacks. Since church right now is right in the middle of when we'd have lunch, I pack up a ton. Today, for example, I had pretzels & cheez-its, grapes, clementines, fruit snacks, animal crackers, applesauce, yogurt raisins, and granola bars. Just in the last month I've had a couple of people approach me after the first meeting, commenting on how much money I must spend on snacks!

Anyway, so once all the bags are ready, I start getting the kids dressed for church. This process is sometimes much harder than other times, but if everyone cooperates then it should only takes maybe 10 minutes. But that is a very big IF. I usually try to plan for it taking roughly a half hour. I really am much more optimistic than that last sentence makes me sound!

Once all the kids are dressed and ready, it's usually about time to feed Lucy. That used to be the time when she'd go down for her morning nap, but she has now transitioned to just one nap a day, but she still insists on getting her morning feeding in. Then, if I'm lucky, it's finally my turn to get ready, while keeping the peace between siblings and making sure they don't get into any major messes with their church clothes. Sometime around 10:30 Marc returns to pick us up and lend an extra hand. We're usually able to make it just in time to get to our seats and get settled in before the meeting starts at 11.

Then, the real fun begins! And, by this point I'm already exhausted! An hour of keeping three kids still, quiet, and happy. Marc is finally sitting with us - the first time ever (since we've had kids) and so it has gotten a little easier. But, it's still a lot of work. Somehow I'm usually able to get something out of those meetings and feel renewed by them. And, really, with how energetic and boisterous my kids are on a normal day at home, they do really well at church with all the rules we expect them to follow. They know to be quiet, the know not to run out into the aisles, they know how to partake of the sacrament, they know it's a special place where they are expected to act differently. And, for the most part, they do really well.

The exhausting part is there is no mental break to just zone out. There's constantly someone who needs something and you have to be right on top of it before their impatience takes them to the screaming-bloody-murder phase. I guess there is a little break after the first hour, when we take the kids to their different classes. Except that Lucy is two months shy of being able to start Nursery and she's about six months too mature to just sit quietly on my lap during the adult classes. So, she and I do a lot of wandering right now. And I sometimes wonder why we're even there.

And, then there are other times when I watch Ben get up in Primary to give a talk and he does such a good job, or I watch Lucy fold her arms as soon as she hears the word "prayer", or I listen to Hugh pray all on his own in Nursery. Those are the moments when I realize it's all worth the exhaustion of getting them there, keeping them there, and then coming home and all of us crashing. I don't get an entire day to sleep away, but I have plenty of other moments to sleep. And, the precious moments we spend at church are far and away some of the best we have as a family. Plus, I'm pretty sure the majority of people at church appreciate all of the happy sounds from the children... and I'd really hate for them to miss out on that if we weren't there! It must be quite the show - our little traveling circus!