back to the beginning...

Clearly I suck at keeping promises.

Anyway.

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.

But here is some of the nitty gritty...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

But that was hard.

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.

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.

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.

sweet comfort food

I love sweet things.

Ice cream with its creamy taste and texture. Best with crunchy chunks of chocolate or nuts…or both.

Chocolate that melts in your mouth. Paired with hazelnut or mint. And none of that waxy cheap chocolate but the kind that leaves you satisfied knowing you have had the very best.

Schmoo torte with delicate cakey layers, fluffy real whipped cream, and sweet caramel sauce drizzled over every square inch.

Chewy chocolate chip cookies right from the oven. Warm and buttery, oozing with melted chocolate.

All these foods provide comfort. An instant feeling of warmth and goodness that seeps through your body. Feelings associated with memories of good friends and special events.

Lately I have indulged in some of these sweet comfort foods. I normally try to stay away from processed sugar but I’ve been feeling entitled to indulge. After a recent dinner out with a friend, she asked if I wanted to go for gelati. It took me about 2 seconds to make up my mind. YES! I told her about a fabulous gelati establishment just down the road and off we went. I so carefully picked my flavor considering this was not a treat I allowed myself very often. After a great deal of difficulty and numerous samples, I settled on mint chocolate. As soon as the first spoonful of gelati hit my mouth my taste buds started to buzz. Yum! It really is amazing how good food heightens the senses when you allow yourself to truly savor and enjoy each bite.

But alas, this feeling of instant gratification quickly dissipates. Each spoonful brings me closer to an empty container. And then the sadness returns. The comfort and “take all the hurt away” kind of feeling offered by good food is only temporary. It does nothing to satisfy the soul and heal the wounds. If only a band-aid and kiss would still work. Then I could run off and play again.

Instead I will continue to search for the answers to the questions contained in my very confused heart. And this process just might need to include another trip or two to the gelati shop…

my healing couches

Shortly after arriving home from our heartbreaking time away D and I started our daily movie date. D had a couple of movies available on his computer and one night he asked me if I wanted to watch as well. Since I needed a distraction I agreed, but asked that we watch upstairs in bed because the laptop screen was so small. He insisted I come downstairs. I sighed loudly (this is quite common these days!) and slowly trudged down the stairs. As I got closer to the main floor I planned my attack, I was not happy about coming downstairs and was still hoping to change his mind.

I turned the corner into the living room, opened my mouth…

And a giggle escaped.

I found our couches were moved so that they were side by side in front of the computer that was hooked up to our stereo. How fun! I grabbed a cozy blanket and snuggled into my designated couch. And so began our daily movie tradition. (One day we actually watched 3 movies!).

I explained this silly event to a friend and she labeled this experience as my healing couches. She nailed it. Those couches, sitting side by side quite awkwardly in the middle of my living room, became a safe place for me to let go of my depressing thoughts and feelings. There, it was okay to smile, laugh, or just not think about our current loss. It was also okay to cry and be sad or pissed off and angry.

That same day as I was enjoying dinner out with a friend, D received an unexpected visitor. I came home deep in thought about my healing couches and how what started out as a convenient way to watch movies on the computer became so important to me and played a role in my grieving process.

I greeted the unexpected guest as they were outside on our backyard deck. I walked into the house, turned the corner to my living room, stopped cold and a “NOOOOOOO” escaped my lips. D had moved our couches back to their original spot because of his visitor. I plunked myself down on the couch so far across the room from its mate, now not nearly as cozy and inviting as before. I wasn’t ready to be rid of the healing couches. I still needed to sit in that cocoon type of space as I still had so much to work through.

Earlier this week after deciding to watch a movie we had a discussion on how to best watch on the computer. I insisted that the couches in their side by side position really was the best way to watch movies on the small screen, plus it allowed us to use stereo sound. D reluctantly agreed. I used the power of logic which works on D every time! But I had an ulterior motive, I just really wanted my healing couches back.

We moved the couches back to the side by side position. I climbed onto my couch, grabbed a blanket, and breathed a sigh of relief. Now I can relax. Enjoy the movie. And continue to work on healing from our loss.

ETA: I just finished watching "Can't Buy Me Love". It was as good as I remember!! It totally brought me back to High School and you gotta love the 80's fashion and music! And I had no idea that McDreamy played Ronald Miller!

lost opportunity

We all have lost opportunities. Times when we wish we could go back in time to change our path or grab hold of opportunities that presented themselves. There is a lost opportunity in my life that is very dear to my heart. I have lost the opportunity to breastfeed as an adoptive mom.

Let me explain.

Firstly, this is a very controversial topic in the adoption world. I am not looking to start a discussion on the shoulds or should nots of this topic, I only want to share my story.

The body is an amazing creation and it can do some pretty crazy things. You can induce lactation in women who have never breastfed or even been pregnant. This requires the use of medication and a very good electric pump. It also requires a ton of determination and dedication.

If you are interested, the protocol to induce lactation can be found here.

After a great deal of thought and discussion with D and others, I decided to try to induce lactation. The minimum time frame the body needs on the meds is 30 days, but the longer you stay on the meds the better chance you have of building a milk supply. Since we didn’t know how long our wait would be and that it could have happened really quickly I started the medication protocol early October 2008. The medication consists of continuous birth control and domperidone (which is approved for use in Canada).

Having the option to breastfeed was exciting to me. I am definitely pro-breastfeeding and have received quite a bit of education and training on breastfeeding since I work in child and maternal health. This was very important to me.

When we were chosen by A to adopt her child I began the process of trying to build a milk supply for when baby arrived 12 days later. This meant that I stopped the birth control, continued on the domperidone, included two different herbs daily, and started pumping. I had a date with the breast pump every 3 hours. And I mean EVERY 3 hours, straight through the night. This was exhausting! Baby wasn’t even born yet and I was getting used to organizing my day in 3 hour blocks and getting up multiple times in the night. I even had to arrange space at work during that last week so I could pump.

By the time baby was scheduled to arrive I had built up a nice little milk supply. It really was quite amazing. I talked with A about my hopes and intentions. I was so concerned that she would think the whole thing was totally wacked out and wouldn’t approve. But she was awesome. After asking her if she was okay with me attempting to breastfeed her child, her exact words were, “go for it girl!” She was even going to let the nurses know at the hospital so that I could try nursing right after he was born. Once again, everything was so great. We were all thinking so carefully and intentionally about each other and this baby.

But we all know that the end to this story is not a happy one. As our dream to adopt A’s baby boy died so did my hope and dream to breastfeed.

Once we found out that baby was so sick and our adoption wouldn’t proceed, I began the process of cutting the milk supply that I had so lovingly built. A devastating reminder that we wouldn’t be bringing home this baby.

Now for me to again pursue my desire to breastfeed would mean that I would have to restart the whole protocol from the beginning as we wait again for someone to choose us.

It was so much work to pump, and as I bonded with the pump at 2:00 in the morning I had many thoughts of how much easier formula would be. Yet I was so dedicated and determined to make this work. I was also so emotionally invested in the idea of breastfeeding this baby that I persevered and bonded repeatedly with that pump. Someone commented to me that I was already loving this baby by being so dedicated to inducing lactation and the work it required. She was right.

I don’t know how I can begin that attachment process again a second time before we even meet baby. We already know that our hearts will be more guarded the second time around in general and to throw breastfeeding into the mix will just be too much for me to handle. Now that I know how hard the whole process really is I don’t think I can start it all over again.

I am quite saddened by this. Actually, pissed off more accurately describes my feelings! The opportunity that I had created for myself to breastfeed as an adoptive mom is lost. Just one more thing that I have to grieve and work through.

a hard week

It's been a hard week.

Going back to work has been difficult for a variety of reasons. So far I've teared up at least once every day while at work. One of my jobs involves pregnant women and babies -- usually I can distance myself enough while at work to protect my heart...this week I couldn't. My other job was one that I had no intention to return to after we adopted the baby. Today I returned. My heart just dropped as I walked through the door.

Today, while back at a job I have left emotionally, I received an email about a conference in November. For a moment my head and heart filled with dread. I was overcome with this feeling that I will still be working 2 jobs and childless for many more weeks and months. I don't know how I am going to do this.

This has also been a hard week for others that I deeply care about. Laura, who is a year into waiting for a referral to adopt a child from Ethiopia, found out this week that their adoption agency just declared bankruptcy. And my good friend H, continues to wait for one last piece of paperwork, that has been delayed unexpectedly and indefinitely, before she can go get her daughter from Ethiopia.

Adoption is hard. There are many of us asking the same questions day in and day out....why and when...

And I still have one more day left in this week. Oh how I pray that the weekend comes swiftly.

everything happens for a reason...or does it?

In the last few days we have been the recipients of the above phrase. I am reminded of a very well articulated post written by a friend on this very topic. I asked for permission to share her post (her blog is password protected) as her thoughts echo my thoughts.

Everything happens for a reason.

Really?

AIDS infected Africa, the killing fields of Cambodia, ethnic cleansing in Rwanda and Darfur, cancer, chronic illness, miscarriage, depression, car crashes, schizophrenia, sexual/physical/emotional abuse, the list is endless. It seems utterly ridiculous to me to suggest that behind each of these there would be a reason for their happening, especially a reason that justfies the gravity of the tragedy experienced. It begs the question of whether or not there is always cosmic purpose driving seemingly senseless circumstances.

The God I serve made a good creation. Evil enters the scene apart from God, with disobedience on the part of Adam and Eve who responded to the tempting of the serpent. Within the pages of Scripture it does not suggest that God prompted the serpent to test his creatures so that they could be strengthened in their resolve to God. He did not, according to Scripture, have a part in the act of defiance - apart from previously setting the Tree as off limits. Yes, he did make that tree in the garden, the one that Adam and Eve were to avoid - in essence, he created the opportunity for evil to pervade his creation. Why did he do it? Could he just not have bothered with the fated Tree altogether? It would be lovely, but God gave Adam and Eve free will and in order to give them the opportunity to express their free will it was necessary for them to face a moral dilemma in which they had to choose. In the choosing against God, Adam and Eve disrupted the created order...the good order...and invited into the human experience an array of ills. I firmly believe that the chaos we experience today is not related directly to God's purposing, but instead to this defiant act of our ancestors.

When everything happens for a reason is spouted, it implies then that God is behind everything. If that were true it would seem likely that he would have chosen to intervene in the whole Tree fiasco in the first place. It implies that the free will God gave us isn't very free. It would suggest that we are more like pawns than people with the power to choose. It implies that the horrific ills that plague us are ordained at the prompting of God. I am confident that God is present in everything, that even in the darkest of times and in the midst of the most vile acts that the Lord is present. But his presence doesn't imply his purpose.

Forgive me for getting riled up at the mention of these five simple words, but this seemingly innocent statement carries deep theological implications and I will not for a moment join in and agree with any ounce of my being that the good God I serve is the driving force behind suffering.

The death of a young mother, hungry and orphaned children combing dirty streets, broken families, empty arms and aching hearts - I don't think they're purposed. Redeemed? Definitely. Opportunities to experience the Lord's nearness in a way that might not have happened otherwise? For sure. God is in the business of redeeming and restoring. In clothing Adam and Eve as he sent them out of Eden he shows that he is still caring for them. There is a rupture in relationship, but he is present in their circumstance and is working within it. I think he works within the ruptures that sin has brought into the created order today, too.

So before everything happens for a reason slips out of your lips, I offer you an alternative. It's shorter, simpler, and far more catchy. And I think that it's a much more theologically sound alternative that leaves the character of God intact.

Ready?

Shit happens.

Yes, indeed.

Shit happens.

life as usual?

We are back home...with empty arms. Taking an empty car seat on our journey south was fun. People at the airport and car rental place all asked in a confused voice, "where's baby?!" and we had fun telling them about the adoption. Never did we imagine that we would be carrying an empty car seat on the journey home.

The two days we spent with the expectant mom, A, and her mom were priceless and amazing (I will be documenting that). We hit it off immediately. More than once D and I commented to each other that we felt like we were living a dream and none of it felt real. While shopping for some things for the baby on Monday, every so often we would pause and look at each other asking if this was really happening. Then we would get all excited and flustered and try to concentrate on the task at hand.

Maybe it all really was a dream because now that we're home life carries on again as usual. On the inside our hearts have been ripped open, but nothing on the outside has changed. The baby room still sits empty, our house is still quiet, we still have freedom to come and go as we please, we will both go back to work, etc. etc. But life cannot carry on as usual. We have experienced incredible loss in the last 3 days. Loss of a dream, loss of what would have been a beautiful adoption as both parties were on the same page with so many things, loss of relationship, loss of health for baby...and there is so much uncertainty in the future for baby, for A, and for us. And yet again we have experienced loss of innocence. Will we be as excited the next time the call comes in? Will we let ourselves dream? If given the opportunity to go early again, will we? Will we now have more doubt in our hearts than hope?

Now we're left to pick up the pieces and figure out a way to carry on and move forward. We have some decisions to make regarding our future. Pray for clear direction and wisdom.

a different kind of update

I am continually amazed at the curve balls life can throw. This is a very different kind of post than I was expecting to write this week.

On June 30th a baby boy was born, but he has a congenital condition that was not caught earlier. This is something that can be survived, but the outlook isn't great as this little boy is very, very sick. He is in the intensive care unit at one of the best children's hospitals in the northwestern states so has unbelievable care, but whether he survives and what complications may or may not occur are yet to be seen. Should he make it, he's looking at at least a couple months in the hospital. This little guy is constantly in our prayers.

The unforeseen health and future of this child means our adoption of him won't be able to move forward. We are greatly saddened by this, we are scared for this little baby, and we feel so badly for the birth mom. In the few days we've known each other we have grown amazingly close and looked forward to being a part of each other's lives.

We are completely numb and have no idea how we will recover from this and move on.

Please pray.

when love isn't enough

A while ago D happened to mention to a neighbor that we were in the process of adopting a child. The neighbor disclosed the fact that his parents have a child through international adoption. D alluded to some of the challenges of adoption and transracial parenting thinking our neighbor might be able to relate. However our neighbor responded with the classic “oh, just love ‘em and everything will be alright.” In my eyes this is the Sunday School answer to adoption related issues. D left that conversation slightly concerned for the adopted child in their family.

In general, society paints a rosy picture of adoption. The loss and abandonment felt by adoptees is rarely acknowledged. Instead adoptee’s are told that they are “so lucky” to have been adopted into such a great family. And everything might actually look rosy from the outside, kids will adjust and learn appropriate behaviour and as humans we’re pretty good at repressing feelings, but I believe that every child who was adopted experiences profound loss.

I have yet to read Nancy Verrier’s book, The Primal Wound: Understanding the Adopted Child. I’m not quite ready. I definitely understand the premise of the primal wound as I have read some articles on the concept. And I feel fortunate to have come across this truth prior to adopting a child so that I am able to better understand straight from the beginning what an impact the separation of infant and mother can have on a child…even a newborn baby. An understanding of the primal wound in our future child will allow me to empathize with their experience and feelings from day one. The feelings of loss, abandonment, and trauma of separation that even an infant experiences. All the love and care in the world isn’t enough to erase this wound. It must be acknowledged and each child must be allowed the freedom to feel and express these emotions and feelings.

I read a really good article from the Quantum Parenting site about the primal wound (there are some other great articles on this site). It is an important concept for anyone remotely connected to adoption to understand. And someday soon I’ll actually read the book.

What is the Primal Wound? Understanding the Trauma of Infant-Maternal Separation

Throughout the generations of routine obstetrical, hospital, and adoption practice in this county, the assumption has always been, “Why would the separation from its mother affect a newborn baby?” But with the advent in the last twenty years of pre- and perinatal research, we now have astounding findings about what a fetus experiences in the womb, what a strong connection it has with the mother long before birth, and how intelligent, aware and remembering a newborn is. Many researchers now feel the more appropriate question to be, “Why wouldn’t the separation from the mother to whom he/she was connected for nine months affect an infant?”

“Many doctors and psychologists now understand that bonding doesn’t begin at birth, but is a continuum of physiological, psychological, and spiritual events which begin in utero and continue throughout the postnatal bonding period. When this natural evolution is interrupted by a postnatal separation from the biological mother, the resultant experience of abandonment and loss is indelibly imprinted upon the unconscious minds of these children, causing that which I call the primal wound.” So writes Nancy Verrier in her book, The Primal Wound: Understanding the Adopted Child (1993). Continue reading…

in a perfect world

During some of my reading and researching what it means to be an adoptive parent I’ve come across quite a bit of anti-adoption information. Some of this comes from adoptee’s who share their experiences as an adopted child and often don’t have positive things to say. I would be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that there is a part of me that is concerned about adopted children and how they come to understand their world, build self-esteem, deal with loss/abandonment etc. I believe that certain practices such as an open adoption situation can help to alleviate potential risks to the adoptee, as well as adoptive parents who acknowledge and create space for the first family. This is my say to anti-adoption:

In a perfect world there would be no separation between mother & child
In a perfect world there would be no infertility
In a perfect world there would be no orphans
In a perfect world there would be no loss

Since we don’t live in a perfect world but rather one that is broken and fallen, I think there is a place for adoption. I agree with the call from adoptees and birthmothers for reform within the system. I agree that adoptees have the right to their original birth certificate. I agree that no expectant woman should be coerced into placing her child. I agree that open adoption contracts should be legally binding. I agree that agencies should not profit from the process. And I agree that all members of the adoption triad (adoptee, birthmother, adoptive parent) need to work together to ensure morale and ethical practices. And, yes, life would be easier, better, and all around nicer if we lived in a perfect world.