her name

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 argue discuss this name. In the end I won out as I pulled the "I just pushed a watermelon out of a pinhole" card!

And I love it. Her full name means protected by God and a deep feeling of great delight.

365 days

This was the week. One year ago I found out I was pregnant.

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.

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.

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.

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.

stork #2

In fall 2009, the stork made a much needed appearance.

Stork #2 just arrived with a bundle wrapped in pink on April 5th, 2012.

Baby S is now safe and sound at home and all are adjusting to life as a family of four.

no fool

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.

But baby still hasn't decided to make her entrance.

One week to go.

ready?

It is officially 2 weeks until my due date and everyone wants to know if I'm ready.

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. 

The answer is yes and no.

I do not want to be pregnant any longer...well...I didn't want to be pregnant 8 months ago either!

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.

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.

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.

In the meantime I think I'll go get my bag packed...

an old pro...

This is a common conversation with an old acquaintance, stranger, someone who works in the same building as I do, etc.

Person: So when are you due?

Me: April

Person: Is this your first?

Me: No. I have a 2 1/2 year old boy.

Person (referring to labour and delivery): Oh. Then you'll be an old pro!

Me (thinking) ...um...not exactly!

belly pictures

I'm aware that there are certain things that many women do to acknowledge pregnancy. Especially a first pregnancy.

Some keep the pee stick. Others take belly shots monthly. Some write letters to their unborn child. And many frame ultrasound pictures.

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.

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.

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.

Please hear me when I say that there is nothing wrong with those pictures. They just aren't me.

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. 

And that is exactly what I got. 

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.

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.

to celebrate pregnancy

The idea of what it means to celebrate pregnancy is a value. All who do become pregnant will experience this in different ways.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

ears to hear

A few of the comments to my post "I thought you couldn't get pregnant..." were of this nature, written by Anonymous*:

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.

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.

However, that doesn't make it right or fair for people to ask the questions or make the comments.

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.

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. 

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.

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).

*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.

the complication of bonding and attachment

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.

When D and I became parents to baby T we were in shock. Two months after our hellish summer and knowing about T for three days we were now a mommy and daddy. 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

to name a child

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.

I've blogged before here 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.

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.

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.

i thought you couldn't get pregnant...

This is another statement to which I must respond. Definitely more than a handful of people have made this comment upon discovering my pregnancy.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

i've got your back

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 the responses I have heard many times over, 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.

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.

I can't even explain the comfort felt after hearing the words...."I've got your back...."

So, thank you my dear friend. Thank you for listening and hearing. And for understanding and sharing.

all you needed was...

To relax.

To adopt.

To be happy.

To wait for the right timing.

Then...and only then...

Would you become pregnant.

And have one of your OWN.

Do people really believe this stuff? From the related comments I get, I would think so.

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.

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.

Here's the newsflash -- what you don't hear are all the stories of women who adopt a child and do not become pregnant. There are many of them.

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.

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.

And nothing hurts more then people telling me that now I'll have one of my own. 

T is my own. Plain and simple.

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.

paradigm shift

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.

It was time to go shopping for maternity clothes.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

As a pregnant woman, I am now that woman. The one I would avoid. The one I envied. 

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 that woman to deal with. I felt like a traitor.

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.