tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10851661654578182962023-11-15T22:51:28.991-08:00eyes wide open: my journey into motherhoodLavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.comBlogger247125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-17335075419386037792013-04-20T19:46:00.001-07:002013-04-20T19:46:13.197-07:00celebrity status<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">T is a celebrity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well. He is a celebrity of sorts in our neighbourhood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As mentioned previously, last spring/summer/fall, T and his daddy spent almost every late afternoon/early evening at our neighbourhood park. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And then. People who were strangers to me would call to T from across the street while walking by our house. I would finally figure out that these were park parents and kids. That made sense to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On T's first day of preschool, located in our neighbourhood, he was greeted by a parent I have never seen or heard of. He was greeted. Not me. When I gave her a questioning look, she explained something about knowing so-and-so who played at the park this summer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That was when I started to realize that our family has a bit of a celebrity status in our small community. We live in a predominantly white neighbourhood. Our city is diverse but our local area isn't. T has multiple friends of color and we have sought out other environments that are diverse, but here, in our neighbourhood, he is noticed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The way people notice him and us isn't in a negative way. People are all very kind and polite. It helps that T is quite the looker and has a fun out-going personality when around other kids. But it kind of bugs me. It's the idea that people think they know him and us because the way our family looks stands out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">T is too young to figure out his stardom. I'm imagining some interesting conversations in our future about this. And I wonder what this summer at the park will be like as T's baby sister toddles after him. Because we are now one of "those" families, who has a bio kid after an adoption, which makes us stand out even more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm just glad T is an easy-going kid and doesn't let too much get to him. Right now, he'll just bask in the pure joy of having a bunch of kids happy to see him and go play.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-39524579604061379682013-03-05T08:25:00.001-08:002013-03-05T08:26:34.288-08:00back to the beginning...<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Clearly I suck at keeping promises.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baby S is now 11 months. Hard to believe that so much time has passed already. She has changed so much over the past year and so has our family life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But here is some of the nitty gritty... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Shortly after her arrival what I found most difficult is the way a parent with a new baby "chooses sides" so to speak with multiple kids. I had watched many a friend deal with their first born child in frustration, anger, tears, etc. once the second babe arrived. All a normal reaction considering the extreme lack of sleep and helpless nature of the baby versus toddler.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When we were an only child family, I remember being witness to events such as the above and thanking the Lord that we wouldn't have to walk those steps. T's entry into our lives was so significant on so many levels and I had fallen into such a deep love for him that I didn't want to experience the extra frustration and anxiety directed at him due to a new baby in the house. There were plenty of reasons just due to his toddlerhood to be frustrated with him and a baby would only add another layer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When baby S arrived, T was 2 1/2 years old and ripe with 3 year old behaviour. All in all, he adjusted to her presence fairly well, it was his just being almost 3 that was the difficulty. Over spring, summer, and fall we experienced daily tantrums and all the other typical what-alien-invaded-you behaviour that the age of 3 brings. It was not a pretty sight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I battled with my emotions while being in a sleep deprived state, never sure what to do with him, and usually reacting on the fly which meant mostly anger directed at T. I was frustrated with this helpless baby and how her arrival caused me to be so emotionally charged with my first child. My anger had to come out somehow and I had enough wits about me to not direct it at S, so T became the logical answer. Plus, what was causing me frustration was him just being him. I felt guilty because T was the one that I knew and had loved for over 2 years yet he was the one experiencing my poor parenting. I felt that without a new baby I would have been able to develop more sound strategies to deal with his charged behaviour and help him through it. But I did none of that. Instead I ranted and raved while he did the same. We were a mess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I had become an angry person. And I hurt because I was angry at this little boy who held such a strong hold on my heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm thankful for the fact that the weather was nice and I have a great hubby who took our son outside to the park daily while I stayed inside breastfeeding....and breastfeeding. I was also able to retain childcare for T two days a week for the first 5 months which was a huge lifesaver. And I am here to say, 11 months later, that life with two kids does get better. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But that was hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I find that most moms don't talk about these sort of difficulties. I witnessed them as an outsider, so I know they exist, but no one really articulates the experience. People do talk about how hard it is with two kids but then usually quickly turn to rainbows and butterflies about giving the first a sibling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I honestly get why some people choose to have an only child. For me this was part of the choice. It is hard to look at the child you have longed years to hold, only to and yell and shout at him as he demonstrates over and over why the age of 3 sucks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Someday. When he is old enough to fully understand, I will apologize to him for this year. (I do tell him sorry when over-reacting etc. but what I mean here is a deeper understanding of sorry). I will look into those stunning brown eyes and apologize for how I wasn't able to keep it together and use this experience as a life lesson for both of us.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-16564510547012109792012-11-13T19:43:00.000-08:002012-11-13T19:43:14.900-08:00blogging about blogging<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr">Sigh.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr">This motherhood thing is hard. It's especially become harder after the addition of baby S. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr">I want to be a good blogger. Really. But where is the time?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr">I love this comment...</span></span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span dir="ltr">Anonymous</span> said...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">don't stop. Please? We want to hear how T is doing as a
big brother, how baby S is doing...how y'all are adjusting to a family
of four...the beautiful, the messy, the ugly, the sacred. Please, let
us know?</span></blockquote>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I do want to share. I have many posts running through my head but to get them out is another story! My brain has been abducted by two wee ones...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know blog posts about blogging are so wrong but even just posting about posting will hopefully inspire me to get back into it. I know there are readers out there. Many readers who do not comment....and some who do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So here I go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A promise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To rewind and blog about life after baby S arrived and all the chaos that ensued.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-87690877664905423922012-08-28T12:27:00.000-07:002012-08-28T19:12:57.668-07:00her nameI've frequently posted about naming a child since this is a much thought about process in adoption land. This is not to say that bio parents don't think intentionally about naming a child. But those of us who adopt a child need to think differently about naming...considering many of us never get to actually use a name.<br />
<br />
Before we met baby T we had a girls name picked out. And for the life of me I can't remember how we picked that name. D and I still loved this girls name, so baby S it was. Now for the middle name.<br />
<br />
When we thought about naming baby T we were quite intentional when thinking about options. So I also wanted to be intentional about naming this baby girl. This was an interesting thing for me to ponder considering I was in such a crazy state of mind at the time. But yet I was aware enough to know that this was important.<br />
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Baby S means...guardian or protected by God. Again, can't remember how we picked this name but I think it's interesting considering that over the course of my pregnancy I do believe she was guarded by God.<br />
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I thought really hard about her middle name. Not only did it need to go nicely with the first, it also needed to mean something special. I googled and searched for unigue names where the meaning was along the lines of being filled with joy. Even though I was struggling with this pregnancy and the thought of having another child, I knew this baby would bring us intense joy in the future. I knew this in my head but not yet in my heart. For that to occur I needed to meet her.<br />
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No unique names stood out for me, so plain old Joy it was. And the more I thought about it, the more I fell in love with this simple name and its deep meaning. D still wasn't convinced and after her birth we continued to <strike>argue</strike> discuss this name. In the end I won out as I pulled the "I just pushed a watermelon out of a pinhole" card!<br />
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And I love it. Her full name means protected by God and a deep feeling of great delight.Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-14088643970241742142012-08-22T12:19:00.000-07:002012-08-22T12:19:03.656-07:00let's educate our kids on adoptionPlease read this article.<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristen-howerton/adoption_b_1711751.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000009"> Parents, Please Educate Your Kids About Adoption So Mine Don't Have To. </a><br />
<br />Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-81463854463660476842012-08-11T15:36:00.000-07:002012-08-11T15:38:36.254-07:00365 daysThis was the week. One year ago I found out I was pregnant.<br />
<br />
The year has been filled with many emotions. Actually I've likely felt all emotions possible. It's been interesting pondering the past year while looking at the beautiful little lady who entered my life four months ago.<br />
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I will not deny what the past has meant and how it has played a role in my present state of mind. I will never sugar coat what I felt one year ago and the process I went through. That was real.<br />
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However. Life has clearly moved on and baby S has arrived. I'm now knee deep in diapers, breastfeeding, and spit-up. Not to mention the daily discipline my almost three year old requires. Most days I'm just managing to survive and little time is spent pondering the past or even the future. These days we're mostly living in the present.<br />
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So 365 days later, there are a few things I know for sure. Baby S has captured my heart and soul...the road to get here was not easy...but it has refined and deepened my character and that should serve me well.<br />
<br />Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-66753309780835060002012-04-07T17:58:00.000-07:002012-04-07T17:58:35.484-07:00stork #2<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In fall 2009, the stork made a much needed appearance.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Stork #2 just arrived with a bundle wrapped in pink on April 5th, 2012.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baby S is now safe and sound at home and all are adjusting to life as a family of four. </span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-19630651732542774152012-04-02T18:59:00.000-07:002012-04-02T18:59:34.877-07:00no fool<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Thought an April fool's baby would have been a great way to book end this pregnancy....considering I was pretty fooled by this whole thing! I would have had a great laugh with that story.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But baby still hasn't decided to make her entrance.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One week to go.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-12997744673519549702012-03-26T12:39:00.000-07:002012-03-26T12:39:25.603-07:00ready?<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It is officially 2 weeks until my due date and everyone wants to know if I'm ready.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I guess it depends on what one means by "ready." The baby room isn't ready. I don't have a hospital bag packed. No diapers. But we finally got an infant car seat 2 weeks ago. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The answer is yes and no.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I do not want to be pregnant any longer...well...I didn't want to be pregnant 8 months ago either!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I am not ready for a newborn to exist in my household once again. Sort of freaking out over that one. Especially since this time around I'm dealing with a super duper active 2 year old at the same time.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have very vivid memories of life with a new baby. Since I thought that baby T would be my only newborn experience I worked extra hard to be present in every moment. So now to think about re-living some of that does not excite me. I believe that you can't ever be fully prepared for life with a baby, but I'm feeling like my prepared-ness pendulum has swung to the other extreme. Still sort of living in denial about this whole new baby business.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So right now it works for me to not give it a lot of thought. I know a baby is coming...and rather soon. Instead of spending too much head space on this right now, I'll work it through once baby is here. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the meantime I think I'll go get my bag packed...</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-91705004352589122672012-03-09T16:25:00.001-08:002012-03-09T16:26:04.971-08:00an old pro...<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is a common conversation with an old acquaintance, stranger, someone who works in the same building as I do, etc.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Person: So when are you due?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Me: April</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Person: Is this your first?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Me: No. I have a 2 1/2 year old boy.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Person (referring to labour and delivery): Oh. Then you'll be an old pro!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Me (thinking) ...um...not exactly!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-39704400237604129882012-03-04T18:34:00.002-08:002012-03-04T18:37:40.888-08:00do your baby's hair...<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At the beginning of the TV season this fall a number of my fave shows highlighted adoption story lines. One of those shows is Greys Anatomy. I'm not going to get into the story line but basically two of the main characters, Derek and Meredith, adopted a baby girl from Africa. So this is a transracial adoption. It was interesting to me that throughout the whole season never once did the issue of race come up related to this adoption -- even in discussions with the social worker. Until last week.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's the best clip.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/E9RhU6oMWeo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I love that this is the way that they started the race discussion because it's so true to real life, and an every day issue. We transracial adoptive parents think and ponder the future racial concerns our families will face, but doing the hair well is a daily occurrence.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now it would be nice if they continued racial discussions and touched on the myriad of other things related to being in a transracial adoption. </div>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-13927359021080085332012-02-29T19:04:00.001-08:002012-02-29T19:52:36.442-08:00belly pictures<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm aware that there are certain things that many women do to acknowledge pregnancy. Especially a first pregnancy.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some keep the pee stick. Others take belly shots monthly. Some write letters to their unborn child. And many frame ultrasound pictures.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My pee stick went in the trash. No monthly pictures happening over here. No letter writing. And ultrasound pics are somewhere deep in a drawer.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That said. I still am aware enough to know that in the future I will likely want to have certain things in my possession for this new baby. The most important pregnancy remembrance I desired were some tasteful and relaxed pictures of me and this belly.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">No naked belly shots. No pictures of D with his arms around me. No hands on belly. And for sure no heart shaped fingers surrounding my belly button.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Please hear me when I say that there is nothing wrong with those pictures. They just aren't me.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wanted pictures taken of me in a relaxed state...as if I was having coffee with a friend and the images captured my part of the story. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And that is exactly what I got. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have an amazingly talented and creative friend who understood the sort of pictures I wanted and actually would have been less then thrilled had I bared my belly. She captured me. A me that happened to be 6 months pregnant.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Thank you my dear friend for beautiful images that one day will be shared with my daughter. And thank you for a lovely afternoon that was just as much about our friendship as it was about me. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKRDikIidiMMDK2qKVcYxiMBtrXjqglWQ6XCGQj-XCgrmAjFJNTW_SIk1ng3_bQWL-vYXBZTbo0x5h1RNHpAMbl3jagTIkk5PPFdOOWOoRBCoxG2r03SKl3FN-WlwqczeHzKIa0xFOx4/s1600/IMG_8618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKRDikIidiMMDK2qKVcYxiMBtrXjqglWQ6XCGQj-XCgrmAjFJNTW_SIk1ng3_bQWL-vYXBZTbo0x5h1RNHpAMbl3jagTIkk5PPFdOOWOoRBCoxG2r03SKl3FN-WlwqczeHzKIa0xFOx4/s320/IMG_8618.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAt5in5BEQkmU6luGu7v4Fr8cVX7TPd4pjBtzG8hL6RZfsg9SAcjx1IBEj8iMPv28HO2l6OwMXREm__6EthKEzJ1Pe9lKxwCscvLsnLDTLOBOJB_yh9N9X69KtQNTpreEACa3oN3Wqvg/s1600/IMG_8773.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAt5in5BEQkmU6luGu7v4Fr8cVX7TPd4pjBtzG8hL6RZfsg9SAcjx1IBEj8iMPv28HO2l6OwMXREm__6EthKEzJ1Pe9lKxwCscvLsnLDTLOBOJB_yh9N9X69KtQNTpreEACa3oN3Wqvg/s320/IMG_8773.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-71711804091013973872012-02-16T11:51:00.000-08:002012-02-16T11:58:01.724-08:00to celebrate pregnancy<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The idea of what it means to celebrate pregnancy is a value. All who do become pregnant will experience this in different ways.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I come into this pregnancy with certain life circumstance that many pregnant women will never experience. I have a history of infertility. Never even once considered assisted reproductive technology. A history with adoption. And I was never pregnant (until now of course)...so no miscarriages etc.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Beyond what the end result of being pregnant was, I did not feel this great need to be pregnant. I did not feel less of a woman by not experiencing this rite of passage. I had difficulty dealing with those who were pregnant around me because I wanted what they would have at the end of 9 months. I seriously just wanted to be a mom.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have also worked with pregnant women and babies for most of my career. I have seen and chatted with more pregnant women then I could ever begin to count. And I have held babies over and over again. To see a pregnant woman and baby at this point in my life are very common place. I don't gush over the bellies or babies. They just are what they are.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Also, the lack of high fives and ooing/awing over the belly is just who I am. I have never -- even before we started trying to conceive -- wanted to touch bellies or know all the intimate details about being pregnant. I have been genuinely interested in my friends and their pregnancies but still don't need to spend gobs of time on the topic. And never would I initiate a conversation with a stranger and their belly, unless we were already engaged in conversation and I felt it was appropriate.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I also approach this pregnancy as someone who spoke with a pregnant woman two years ago about potentially parenting her child, and then watched that same woman place her baby in my arms. I think about her pregnancy experience and that perhaps it was not one to celebrate. I think about her in the grocery store with her older daughter and a swollen belly and wonder what strangers may have said to her.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I do think there is something different about a stranger making a curious comment about a due date when appropriate versus an acquaintance or friend saying "I thought you couldn't get pregnant" or making other assumptions without truly listening to what is felt by the woman at the time.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">People worry that I'm missing out on some sort of feeling or experience during this pregnancy...something that they themselves may have felt during pregnancy. Again, what a pregnancy celebration means and looks like is a value. I don't need others to put their values about pregnancy on me. I am truly not concerned about my lack of celebration. I have yet to move into full acceptance of this pregnancy and the end result. Most of the time I still can't believe that I'm pregnant in the first place, and I know enough about myself to know that belief and acceptance will only come after birth. Once there really is a baby to care for and to love on. I am not concerned or worried that bonding and attachment won't happen. I'm just not sure how it will happen, and this again is different for every woman, no matter her pregnancy experience.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If those around me want to celebrate my pregnancy, go for it. Just don't try to make me feel like I have to follow suit or feel what they felt during the same experience. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In this blog space I am being completely honest about my emotions and process. And this may make people uncomfortable. I could perhaps ignore my own feelings and appear as though pregnancy and another child is now the best possible thing to happen to me and I wouldn't want it any other way. That may make those around me more comfortable, but I do know that I would be worse off for not feeling what I feel and being honest about the process.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After my father passed away and people didn't know what to say to me, I ended up saying things to help make them feel better and take them off the hook per say. Those moments were hard for me. I was in the depths of despair but took energy away from processing this loss in my life by caring for others. I'm certainly all for being a caring person -- and those who know me well know that I am not coldhearted -- but I was struggling with life and grieving and needed support. I didn't need full understanding because I am very aware that unless one has walked the road of similar grief it's difficult to empathize, but to just listen to my hurting heart and to be okay with where I was in that moment.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And today at 7 months pregnant I am okay with where I'm at. Contrary to popular belief, I do not sit around and constantly bemoan this pregnancy. At the same time I am still very real and authentic with where I'm at in this journey. I have done as much work processing my new life path as I can do right now. The next part which includes full acceptance and moving forward with love and joy will occur after birth. And I know the rest of my processing time will not happen immediately. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the meantime, the words I write on this blog are but a glimpse into my current life state. It is mostly the hard stuff I've been thinking about that I write here. I don't write about preparing the baby room, or buying all the cute tiny pink clothes, or watching T hear the heartbeat. All these things are a part of my life as well, I just don't "celebrate" them in the same way as another pregnant woman would.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-7477285648574109032012-02-12T19:22:00.000-08:002012-02-12T19:25:09.257-08:00ears to hear<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A few of the comments to my post "I thought you couldn't get pregnant..." were of this nature, written by Anonymous*: </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The content of the question is intrusive and can feel violating, but at its heart it would seem that it is friendly curiosity, or delighted astonishment...a chance to celebrate what to the other might seem a miracle. I think it's great to educate people to have them understand how they come across...but my hunch is that if you let them know how rude they seemed to you, they would be surprised as that would be the farthest from their intent...I wonder if it doesn't make sense to hear, "blah blah blah" and see the joy in their eyes and acknowledge the love therein.</blockquote><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is not the first time others have let me know that most people aren't vindictive and mean well enough with their curious questions. I agree that many of the questions I get make sense when thinking about either our adoption or pregnancy situations.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">However, that doesn't make it <b>right </b>or <b>fair</b> for people to ask the questions or make the comments.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Remember that I always have little ears with me who hear. Those ears will hear all comments and questions and will not be able to discern whether they were made in good will. It is those ears that are my first priority. It isn't just about me dealing with rude and inappropriate comments, it's about me always putting my child(ren) first.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While a comment directed towards my "miracle" pregnancy may seem benign enough to the average person, it speaks volumes to me and the little boy sitting beside me. They are comments that I will have to explain to him and then help him understand why people say the things they do. </div><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So. No. I can't completely acknowledge the love in the eyes of someone who makes comments related to adoption or pregnancy and see it as friendly curiosity, no matter how innocent it may be. I can't just give people the benefit of the doubt and I can't just let it go.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My role is that of mama bear. To know that my child(ren) have ears that will hear all. And then to be aware of constructive ways to deal with all comments and questions that protect my child(ren).</span><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Please know that I have no issue with people disagreeing with my take on things, but an anonymous comment is up for using how I desire.</span></div>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-32879139383121128482012-02-06T18:06:00.000-08:002012-02-06T18:08:24.583-08:00the complication of bonding and attachment<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the adoption world we speak at great lengths about bonding and attachment. Most of us have at least one book on our shelves related to this topic.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When D and I became parents to baby T we were in shock. Two months after our <a href="http://eyeswideopenmotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/different-kind-of-update.html">hellish summer</a> and knowing about T for three days <a href="http://eyeswideopenmotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-stork-arrived.html">we were now a mommy and daddy</a>. It was surreal. It didn't take us long to fall in love with T, but it took me quite some time to bond and attach in that "I am your mommy" kind of way.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are many experiences I was unable to have with T. I did not carry him for 9 months, I did not birth him, and I was not the first significant person to hold and welcome him into the world. I recognize that we have been blessed to experience parenting T since he was 2 days old...but none of those first few wee moments were ours to experience.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I will experience all these first moments with this new baby. All the parts of T's history that I wish were mine to share with him, will be mine to share with new baby. When T asks me about his womb and birth experience, I will essentially have nothing to say. When new baby asks, I will have much to share.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I sometimes wonder if some of my resistance to this pregnancy -- beyond the shock and real desire to have one child -- has to do with bonding and attachment. Perhaps my subconscious doesn't want to fully engage and experience what I was unable too with T. Perhaps fully acknowledging pregnancy and then birth will make me "less" of a mom to T. I struggled for a long time feeling that J had much more legitimate reason to claim the title of mom than I did because she did have that history with T.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I can hear your argument...of course you will never be anything but mom to T...this experience will never take any of your love, bonding, attachment, etc. away from him. This I all know and believe. However, what this blog space does for me is allow honest processing. And that is what this post is about. Being honest with myself and others about what is running through my head. To contemplate motherhood through adoption and then through birth has many layers and for me requires much intentional thought and processing.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I also acknowledge that if I am unable to experience some bonding or at least positive energy while pregnant, this baby will miss out. I choose to believe that, although faced with some tough decisions, J loved on T while he shared her womb and those first moments in the hospital when it was just the two of them. I pray and hope that someday T will be able to hear about that experience from J. If I can't share moments of love during pregnancy with new baby no one else will ever be able to fill in those shoes. This I know, but as I've said many times and will continue to say...I can't feel what I don't feel.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lastly, I am also very aware that many women do not bond instantly with their newborn child. This can be a process and growing experience. So because of this, I am not concerned about my ambivalence towards this pregnancy and what might occur after birth in regards to bonding. I experienced ambivalence in my understanding of what it meant to become a mom in 3 days after signing a piece of paper. I worked through that time well enough to come out on the other side fully engaged and aware. I can do that again.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-68788191604065667182012-01-31T20:52:00.000-08:002012-01-31T20:52:18.057-08:00to name a child<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've been reflecting on this whole baby naming business. How odd it feels to me to be in complete control (minus the influence of hubby!) of this part of bringing a child home.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've blogged before <a href="http://eyeswideopenmotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/choosing-name.html">here</a> about the intentional process we chose to name T. D and I thought long and hard about that one and how T's first mom would be impacted. So to now just pick names on our own seems rather arrogant to me. I'm not sure I really believe that naming this baby is the sole responsibility of D and I.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Each of T's three names has a story and very specific meaning behind it. How do I create a similar experience for this baby? I can't and I know that. The naming of this child is different then T...as is most everything else. But I can't help but long for a significant and meaningful story related to this new baby's name. We're trying. Trying to think of names that will elicit an emotional response in us, but that is proving to be difficult.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So interesting to me. To once again be a part of something that most parents take completely forgranted...and this time I'm on the other side.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-48494053712282923752012-01-19T14:33:00.000-08:002012-01-19T14:33:28.912-08:00i thought you couldn't get pregnant...<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is another statement to which I must respond. Definitely more than a handful of people have made this comment upon discovering my pregnancy.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My sense is that this is a curious inquiry. People are wondering what my fertility story is. Of course one would assume that I am infertile upon meeting my son...but now that I'm pregnant that assumption isn't as secure. So they thought they once knew how to categorize my family, but now they're not so sure.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I do know of people who have chosen to start their families through adoption and then add biological children -- this is not a large demographic but it does exist. So perhaps people now wonder if this is my story.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Regardless, my fertility story is my own to share with whom and when I want. And it shouldn't matter to anyone how my family came to be. But for some reason, those around me feel it is necessary to ask questions such as this.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And, like other comments, this sort of invalidates the adoption process in my life. Because if I could in fact get pregnant, then why did I adopt a child instead of having a bio child first. Let's just make all the comments we can that erase the intentional process of how my family started. And then let's find more comments that cause me to explain my bodily functions and justify why my family began with adoption. For pete's sake. It. Does. Not. Matter.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway, I still need to respond to these interesting inquiries. Would love to say something witty and perhaps sarcastic with a touch of humor....but alas, that is not a gift of mine. If you have any thoughts as to a response please message me, I could use some help!</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-28753696164732386632012-01-01T18:45:00.000-08:002012-01-01T18:47:48.720-08:00a swollen heart<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have had many opportunities during this holiday season to sit back and observe my son.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have watched him be silly, laugh, give hugs and kisses, be sweet, share, build, and deconstruct. It has been a good holiday season for our little family.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As my heart was swelling with the intense love I have for this child, I was very struck by the fact that I am so privileged and honoured to be able to parent this remarkable little boy. God weaved our lives and J's together, and the result was that we became T's forever family. But as much as I can't imagine my life without T, I'm aware that life could have turned out differently for all of us. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">All the choices we had to make when starting the adoption process --- to adopt in the first place, which agency, location, age, etc. all played a role in God's weaving process. And of course, all the huge decisions J had to make regarding her son and the future. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The idea that a stranger has entrusted their child to you is a mind blowing thing. Something that you never take lightly and will always be a part of you.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My heart is so full of love for this little boy. A love that is hard to articulate to others who haven't walked a similar journey. It is a love that transcends biology and genetics, a love that always recognizes the honour, privilege, and blessing. And a love that remembers the journey of all triad members. </span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My heart is swollen.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-17777736925152903002011-12-23T18:26:00.000-08:002011-12-23T18:26:58.385-08:00reflecting on my road from infertility to adoption<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've recently been in contact with a woman who has walked the road of infertility and is now gathering information related to adoption. It's been interesting chatting/emailing with her. I can hear the desperation and anguish in her words. How her plan to start a family has become a very dark place.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This made me reflect on my own journey from infertility into the adoption world. I have a different story.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was very familiar with adoptive families and had walked friends through the process from beginning to end. Due to our exposure of infertility and adoption we never took the idea of starting a family forgranted. And were very aware that our story may also end up on the same path.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We had decided that if biological children weren't in our future then we would direct our energy into adoption. This wasn't a very difficult decision for us. The more difficult piece was deciding if we were ready to become a transracial family.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So after the referral to the fertility clinic, all the tests, the news that the cause of our infertility was "unknown", and that after the last procedure we had a six month window to most likely get pregnant, I was frustrated. I didn't want to "try" for another six months. I didn't want to have to make decisions based on an "unknown" diagnosis. I would have rather heard that there was absolutely no way we would ever, ever become pregnant, and then I would have marched right into the office of the closest adoption agency. I was ready to move on. To be in control again.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the end, we did follow the doctor's advice and after five months started the adoption process. I felt free. Free to be rid of the past, the testing, the counting, the temperature taking. Free to look forward and plan for the future. I was still desperate to have a child but not in an anguished sort of way. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I feel blessed to have known so many people who formed their families through adoption and to have participated in a few of those journey's. The day we decided to 100% pursue adoption was a good day, and I am thankful for that. </span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-13421655560666395262011-12-15T17:52:00.000-08:002011-12-15T20:13:21.207-08:00i've got your back<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In my professional life I've come across many women who for either religious, cultural, personal, or reasons otherwise, have concealed their pregnancies. Sometimes for a long time.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was only able to make it to 16 weeks before I needed to make the news public. I would have gone longer if I could have.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For me, concealing my pregnancy was a form of self-preservation. When telling those closest to me, I was able to explain where my head was at, how I was shocked beyond belief, and in a place of sadness. These friends listened, didn't offer platitudes. That was what I needed. To tell everyone meant opening myself up to comments and questions that I wasn't ready to receive.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Due to my tilted uterus I started showing very quickly -- far too quick for my liking. And once the news was public, I had no control over what was said by others and how it was said. This was still so early in my time of processing -- I was barely coming out of denial and the reaction of others to my pregnancy really impacted me.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As a result, I have walked into situations and immediately become overwhelmed with over-the-top excitement about this pregnancy. And when I react in a less than positive way people don't know what to do. When they heard the news, they didn't also hear the rest of our story.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have a friend who is repeatedly approached by others with "the big question." She has told me that she's "got my back." When she discloses that, yes, I am indeed pregnant and hears <a href="http://eyeswideopenmotherhood.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-you-needed-was.html">the responses I have heard many times over</a>, she tempers their excitement. She will explain to others how "oh, she just needed to adopt to get pregnant" and "now she'll have one of her own" are perhaps not the best things to say to me.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am so thankful for this person in my life. A woman who has not walked the road of infertility, adoption, or an unplanned pregnancy, but who has tried to understand and empathize with each part of my story. She has done well.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I can't even explain the comfort felt after hearing the words...."I've got your back...."</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, thank you my dear friend. Thank you for <i>listening</i> and <i>hearing</i>. And for <i>understanding</i> and <i>sharing</i>.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-22560474349563962722011-12-09T19:36:00.000-08:002011-12-09T19:39:00.986-08:00the infertility awareness project<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A friend going through infertility recently sent me this excellent video </span><a href="http://www.tearsandhope.com/emptyarms_video.html" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tears and Hope: the infertility awareness project.</a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Please watch and remember.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-74922089211827638332011-12-06T14:35:00.000-08:002011-12-06T18:39:59.102-08:00is it a gender thing?<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm a part of a wonderful group of women that meet monthly to discuss books. But we're not like your average book club. All the women in this club are transracial adoptive moms and the books we read/discuss are all related to transracial adoption.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Our group is called <a href="http://eyeswideopenmotherhood.blogspot.com/2011/02/roots.html">ROOTS</a> meaning belonging; the core; and to grow...which describes us as transracial adoptive parents and our kids as transracial adoptees.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We've just started reading through an excellent book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Their-Own-Voices-Transracial-Adoptees/dp/0231118295/ref=pd_sim_b_6">In Their Own Voices: Transracial Adoptees Tell Their Own Stories</a>. This book is a collection of interviews completed with transracial adoptees now in their 20's. A book I would definitely recommend.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We started at the beginning and read through 4 interviews with female adoptees and had lots to discuss regarding their stories. The next month we read through 4 male interviews and found that there was little to say. The stories shared by the women were in-depth and included a lot of emotional issues as well as difficulties finding their way in the black world after having lived in a white home. Whereas the men were more straight forward, stated things just as they were, and seemed to have little need to make adoption or the transracial piece of adoption into a big deal. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This made our group wonder...is it a gender thing?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't want to make sweeping statements. Especially considering that I've read books written by other male transracial adoptees which included a lot of emotion, introspection, and difficulty.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's just an interesting observation and worth pondering as a mom who has adopted transracially.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-22465351367721811512011-12-01T12:37:00.000-08:002011-12-01T12:42:14.533-08:00all you needed was...<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To relax.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To adopt.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To be happy. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To wait for the right timing.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then...and only then...</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Would you become pregnant.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And have one of your <i>OWN</i>. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Do people really believe this stuff? From the related comments I get, I would think so. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've become one of the few. One of the ~ 3% of women who are infertile, who then form a family through adoption, and then get pregnant. A statistic.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Everyone has a similar story. Everyone apparently knows someone who has adopted and then become pregnant. At least that is what it feels like to me because I hear all those stories.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's the newsflash -- what you don't hear are all the stories of women who adopt a child and <b><i>do not</i></b> become pregnant. There are many of them.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What people don't realize, is that by telling me that all I needed to do to get pregnant was to adopt a child, they have completely invalidated my experience with infertility and the adoption journey...as well as the beautiful child in my life. It is the pregnancy that is celebrated above all else. The "normal" and "regular" way to have a family. It's almost like people are inferring why did I bother forming a family through adoption if I was going to get pregnant years later anyway? I guess my 8 year ago self didn't have that sort of insight.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It is also difficult for people to understand that after walking the road of infertility and adoption, not everyone needs that pregnancy experience to feel complete. I had resolved that desire years and years ago. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And nothing hurts more then people telling me that now I'll have one of my own. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">T is my own. Plain and simple.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So if you know me, and you know other women struggling with infertility or in the adoption process, please don't use me as a statistic. My story is still my own to shape and mold and the other women don't really want to hear it.</span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-32993457325283038092011-11-17T18:32:00.000-08:002011-11-17T18:35:23.095-08:00open adoption interview project 2011<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I participated in the Open Adoption Interview Project in 2010 and signed up once again this year. It's such a great way to get to know a new blog...and hopefully a bit about the person behind the blog! Our stories are all unique but there is a thread of similarity that binds us all together. To check out the other interviews, click <a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/2011/11/interview-project-november-2011.html">here</a>.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This year I was paired with Kelly <a href="http://fromemptywombtooverflowingheart.blogspot.com/">From Empty Womb to Overflowing Heart...</a>. She recently started blogging this year so I was fortunate enough to be able to read through her story from beginning to now. What becomes immediately apparent while poking around Kelly's blog is her intense love for her daughter, faith, and life. After years of infertility, a devastating failed first placement, and a trial with infertility treatments, Kelly and her husband finally met their beautiful daughter in August 2010.<b> </b>Kelly blogs about her life as a mom and their fully open adoption with Lovebug's birthfamily. Go check out her blog and say "hi!".<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You can read Kelly's interview with me </span><a href="http://fromemptywombtooverflowingheart.blogspot.com/2011/11/open-adoption-interview-project-2011.html" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">here</a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Here is my interview with Kelly:<b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>1. You mention in a post (can't find it now!) that you weren't sure yet how to refer to Lovebug's biological family. I'm wondering where you stand on that now. What words have you decided to use? Are they different from what you use with Lovebug? </b><br />
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That was a real struggle for me. I just felt like, of all the options out there, none of them captured C's importance in Lovebugs life. So, after writing that post I emailed Lovebugs birthmom to get her input on it. I just asked her point blank "what would you like to be called? Birthmom? First mom? MamaC? Other mom? Her response was that she thought just being called her first name was great and that birthmom worked for her. After we talked about it, and I knew that *she* felt comfortable with being called ny her name and referred to as birthmom I felt much more at ease with that choice. After all, because we're in an open adoption Lovebug wont learn C's importance in her life from her name or title, but rather the relationship they have.<br />
<br />
<b>2. Reading through your blog it is apparent that you bonded with Lovebug quite quickly. Was there any part of becoming a mom through adoption that you struggled/are struggling with?</b><br />
<br />
In the beginning I really struggled with feeling grief for C. I grieved a tiny bit (or a lot) at every new milestone wishing that she could have shared that moment with us. Over time, that feeling of grief has lessened though I'm not sure it will every been completely gone. <br />
<br />
The one part of becoming a mom through adoption that has been an ongoing struggle is frequently having my motherhood challenged and questioned by outsiders. Sometimes it's as simple as a well meaning person at the grocery store asking "what happened to her real mom?" or other more blatant comments that just let you know that outsiders don't really get it and probably never will. Sometimes it's hard to know that in some eyes I will never just be Lovebugs mom.<br />
<b><br />
3. You've briefly mentioned Lovebug's heritage as half Filipino. I'm wondering how you do and will work at your status as a transracial family? And how do you experience life as an adoptive transracial family living in the US?</b><br />
<br />
It's really important to us that Lovebug celebrate her Filipino heritage, as well as the rest of her heritage, because it's a large part of who she is and she can physically identify with it. As she's getting older I'm learning more and more about the Philippines, a country I started out knowing very little about. We plan to integrate it into school projects, holidays and special occasions. <br />
<br />
Our experience have been mostly great so far. I mean, there are definitely those nosy people as mentioned before that make things weird, but even with that I can say that we have never experienced negative comments about our transracial adoption. One of the more annoying comments is "where did you get her?" Sometimes I want to say "Walmart. Haven't you seen the new baby section?" It's just irritating because people assume because she not white that she must be from another country. Nope! Believe it or not, there are Filipino Americans here in the US!<br />
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<b>4. In the Rachel post you describe infertility as in the past however, in the post Why Hello Old Friend and See Ya Later, difficult feelings associated with infertility rear their ugly head. Do you feel that your story of infertility will always be a part of you and how? Do you think that issues still related to infertility will continue to pop up throughout life? Do you find it uncomfortable to acknowledge the difficult feelings related to infertility? If yes, how have you dealt with this in the past and will in the future? If no, how have you figured it out!!</b><br />
<br />
Well, infertility forever changed me. So in some ways, yes, it will always be a part of me. But, I don't think it will forever rear it's ugly head and it's certainly not a prominent part of me anymore. Right now were still in the thick of building our family so naturally it comes up. But, I don't view my IF the same way as I used to. In the first post I was writing about Rachel and her undying desire to be a mom. When I look back at that side of me, it's gone because at last I am a mom! That infertile Kelly felt as if infertility was holding her children hostage. I didn't know if I would ever be a mom. But, she's gone. That infertile Kelly groans no more because I somehow got picked to be the mom of the most amazing little girl on the planet! The second post was more a whine fest about the injustices of infertility. I know we'll have more kids and I will love them more than life itself and will go to the ends of the earth to get them, but sometimes this infertile Kelly wishes it was just as easy as "hey, wanna have another baby? Wam, bam, heres a baby ma'am!" The other side of infertility that sticks out in my mind is the feeling that my body betrayed me and sometimes feeling less of a women because my body didn't do what it's essentially made to do. I don't know when those feelings go away. <br />
<br />
I don't find it hard to acknowledge my difficult feelings on infertility. Infertility is hard and painful and just plain sucks. And like I just said, it touches more levels than just the obvious not being able to conceive. What I find difficult is articulating my feelings at times because sometimes they're too complex to put in words. <br />
<br />
<b>5. I love your story of open adoption. Where do you get support and learn how to continue on in this relationship with Lovebug's first family?</b><br />
<br />
I have found an amazing community of other parents in open adoptions. I cannot tell you how invaluable they have been to me. Some are people I know IRL and some are people I have only met online. ALL of them are amazing parents and have become such great friends and support systems! Also, our agency Bethany Christian Services is amazing at creating a community within their families by creating community pages, having play groups and annual events. They've really just been awesome!<br />
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<b>6. After completing Lovebug's adoption, how will you approach your second adoption? Any changes? Any new insights or cautions?</b><br />
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I'm hoping the process will be more relaxed this time, honestly. Last time we were so nervous and anxious to the point where we couldn't enjoy some aspect of it and I'm hoping that wont be the case again. I don't know that there will be any changes. Just more maturity in the process and more insight into both sides of the coin. I'm praying that insight will be helpful to us if we experience another failed adoption. Less pain and more understanding for the situation.<br />
<b><br />
7. How have you managed to acknowledge the loss side of adoption while still living in the joy?</b><br />
<br />
It's a hard balance at times and was especially hard when Lovebug was first born. But, I've come to realize that acknowledging the loss side of adoption doesn't take away from the joy of adoption. In any adoption there is a loss before the joy. C experienced/experiences a great loss that has been hard at times to deal with. But, we do our best to be in prayer for her and be here for her if and when she needs us. Being understanding that at times things are more difficult for her than other times. Philippians 2:3 says "Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself" and Matthew 7:12 says "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets". These are our "Open Adoption verses". To acknowledge that we're all on equal plane, none batter than the other, all loved by God and to treat each other as we wish to be treated. There are times where there's great loss and great joy, but if we keep the other person in mind and treat them as we wish to be treated in all circumstances we feel we can be a great support to each other.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lovebug has also experienced loss and although we have not yet dealt with her loss when the time comes we will help her through it by being open and understanding about her feelings. I don't ever want her to feel like she can't express the way she's feeling. Whether those feelings are joyful or sorrowful. We want her to know it's ok to feel the loss of her birthfamily. We're a family and we'll be here for her no matter what!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think by excepting that there is loss head on and not being ashamed of it or scared of it you just make way for the joy to come in! <br />
<br />
<b>8. How have been accepted with other mom's that joined the mommy club the biological way?</b><br />
<br />
For the most part it's been awesome! I really have great friends and family. Sometimes I think I'm my worst enemy in this regard, assuming that other moms will judge me and then they don't. I have only had a few situations where I felt as if the other mom was looking down on the way I became a mom... again with the *real* mom comments. But, those encounters have been few and far between in the playgroup/mom world for me!</div>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1085166165457818296.post-47820081119673120122011-11-16T18:28:00.000-08:002011-11-16T22:35:24.795-08:00paradigm shift<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The day had come. I could no longer fit into my pants and the hair elastic I was using to keep them from falling down just wasn't cutting it.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was time to go shopping for maternity clothes.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So one Saturday afternoon I pulled myself together and went to the mall. First I grabbed a Boo.ster Juice, then went in to Chap.ter's to check the sale rack, headed to a few kids clothing stores to check out the new stock, and perused the shoe stores. I was stalling.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I finally dragged myself to the prominent maternity store in the mall and started looking. I was immediately approached my a sales clerk who ended up being a huge help. I think I must have tried on at least 12 pairs of jeans that day. I purchased a few sweaters and a really nice pair of jeans and left. All the while with an odd unexplainable feeling in my gut.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was later as I replayed that day over in my mind that I realized part of why it was difficult for me to even walk into the store. This was a paradigm shift for me. An identity crises of sorts.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So many years ago I would have loved the opportunity to shop for maternity clothes. So many years ago I longed for that experience as then I would have what I most desired...a child. But I am not the same person I was all those years ago. Much has happened since then.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While going through infertility and the adoption process, the maternity stores and most everything else pregnancy/baby related became something very negative. Something to remind me (mock me) of what I didn't know if I would ever have. It wasn't the pregnancy piece that I so desired, it was a baby. And since pregnancy was the conduit to a baby, all things pregnancy related became bad news. This was my reality and my life. I was not going to get pregnant which was totally fine with me, what was not fine, was not having a family.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The day that I walked into the maternity store was the day I realized that I was now a part of a club that I had struggled with for so many years. A club all about "the labour story", the relatively "easy" way to have a family...and the more accepted, "real" way to bring a child into your home. I had reconciled in myself so many years ago that I would never be a part of that club. And as the adoption proceeded, and now that T is home, it's a club that I didn't need or want any longer. My family came together in an unconventional way and we continue to live an unconventional life as a transracial family. This is who I was and who I understood. I don't understand pregnancy and the "regular" way to have a child.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As a pregnant woman, I am now<i> that </i>woman. The one I would avoid. The one I envied. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A few months ago I had a conversation with a woman going through infertility and she asked me how I dealt with everyone around me being pregnant. I chatted honestly with her about my story. Inside my heart hurt. I knew that sooner rather than later I would need to disclose to her that I had become <i>that woman</i> to deal with. I felt like a traitor.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know that the difference between myself and the regular pregnant woman, is that I own the story of infertility and adoption. Becoming pregnant does not erase that experience. I'm just struggling with how to understand and fit into my new reality. </span>Lavonnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15570143383826108862noreply@blogger.com0