Public School.

Ten years ago, I laid on the floor of the spare room in our house.  Crying. Praying.  Begging.  All I wanted was to be a mother.  And we waited. And waited.  And we got the phone call. Appointments.  Ultrasounds.  Visits.  Phone calls.  A night in the hospital.  There she was.  Our big.  All round and beautiful.  We fell instantly for her.  Scooped her up and fought over who got to hold her. 
Then a diagnoses.  And hard stuff.  Handing her off to a surgeon to have the tumor removed in her leg.  Getting her back.  Watching her heal.  Rejoicing with a clear follow up.  Holding my breath with each MRI that it will be the one that gives us different news.
Becoming a big sister.  Then again.  Hospital stays for them.  And more hard stuff.
All this was filled in with books, parks, story times, friends, family, laughter, frustration, parenting failures, teaching, learning, television, bike riding, fevers, hugs, cooking, cleaning, eye rolling, life.

Seven years, and four months.  This child has been part of my every day.  Tomorrow, that changes.  I'm so excited for her.  For us. And sad.  How I will miss that child.  She's a smaller version of my personality.  Eye rolls and all.  She frustrates me like nobody else can.  And she reminds me each day of getting to become a mother.  Of my failures and my successes as a parent.
Here's to sending her out on a new adventure.

clearing a few things up.

as I suspected, I have already heard quite a few cringe worthy things about being pregnant, and how it relates to our two other girls being adopted.  i'm barely showing folks.  I can't help but fear for what lies ahead, and what my two amazing girls are going to hear.  so i'm going to start by clearing the air a little bit, here.

first, and foremost, the sentence:  if you had only waited.....
you may follow that sentiment with, I wouldn't have my two daughters.  no regrets.  nothing but thankfulness for the children we have.  and had we known we were going to get pregnant ten years later, we still would have adopted first.  there's not a whole lot I can think of that would be sadder than not having my two daughters.

 

 

 

second, I didn't get it easier the first two times.  yes, carrying a child is much different than adoption.  and my first trimester has been fairly miserable in all honesty.  but so was the three year wait for Abigail.  and so was being stuck in another state with my daughter waiting on the powers that be to send paperwork from point a to point b so I could cross state lines.  so yes, pregnancy is hard. and I know there are some harder things to come.  but, adoption has it's pains as well. 



and last, my pregnancy is NOT a reward.  it's not what I get for adopting 'those kids.'  the gift I got for adopting these two, is getting to be their mother, and them getting to be my daughters.  make no mistake that the child growing inside of me is NOT more of a blessing than the first two who listened to someone else's heart beat for the first nine months.  my love for this child is NOT  more than my two daughters. 

God has given me three babies.  three children.  three gifts.  none of them are a reward for what I have done, lest I would never have been a mother.  they are, all three, my children.  in the end, it turns out that the person who's uterus the child grew in has no affect for the love I feel for them.

come on in.

daily, my newsfeed is filled with links titled '10 things special need parents wish you knew' and 'how to help your friend who's child is autistic' and so on and so forth. (I will admit to writing a 10 things list here , although not for how to be my friend.)  I often click them just to see how I relate.  most of the time, I don't.  and, I get annoyed at how much they seem to separate parenting from special needs parenting.
I HATE, with a passion, when people refer to me as 'adoptive mom.'  I correct them.  i'm mom.  adoption was something that took place a few years ago, but doesn't define me as a parent.  i'm certain that parenting my children is the same as parenting most children who are 5 and 2.
and, similarly, I get annoyed at being a 'special needs mom.'  it's a little different because my kids do add things into the mix that some others don't deal with.  but, my actual parenting is just parenting.  when I go to story time, I just want to hang out and be one of the moms instead of the 'special mom.'
  today, we went to the local children's museum to escape the rainy grouchiness that was encompassing our house.  outside of the building a road is closed because they are preparing to build a new hotel that will employ people with special needs. (the irony was not lost on me) I parked in a spot for people with disabilities so that I could take shilo's gait trainer in for her.  I got out, put her in the stroller, and pushed it while I pulled the trainer behind me until we got inside.  did I mention it was raining?  pretty hard at this point?  turns out the sidewalk and road are closed.  I can't get to the ramps for anything.  I end up having to walk with my children and gear in the road, trying to stay far enough over to avoid cars.  I hit Abigail with the gait trainer multiple times by accident.  she was pretty frustrated.  I was ready to cuss, and we were all soaked by the time I finally found a ramp to use.
it didn't get much better after that-the door openers didn't work, and when I got inside, I realized that while the building met ada standards, that was about as far as it went.  shilo couldn't even play in the water table (nor could a child in a wheelchair) unless I stood and held her up to it.  it's her favorite thing to do at places like this, and she was frustrated.  I was frustrated beyond belief that trying to do something fun with my kids, and allow shilo freedom, was so much more work for me, and in the end, shilo could do very little.
suddenly, all those readings that had frustrated me went through my head, and I realized that I do have things as a parent that my friends of typical kids can't understand.  they don't think twice about parking, and accessibility.  they have no idea what it's like to need both a stroller and a gait trainer because it's guaranteed that your child will get too tired to continue to walk at some point.  their kids run freely and play with things while I have to take mine in and out, in and out to reach things, and navigate steps.
however, I have some amazing friends.  and while they might not understand those things, if I told them this story, they would be aware.  they would agree with how much that sucks, and they would likely even be willing to help me advocate to change some of those things.  the thing about parenting is that we all have some sort of battles.  there's no use arguing over harder or easier.  it's a journey we're all on together.  find people who will walk it with you, love you, and not judge you, even if their journey is much different.  help them understand the differences, and allow them to walk through the hard things with you.  most of the time, that's what they want to do if you'll just tell them how.  not in list form.  not for the whole world, because my needs, are much different than other parents that have children with special needs.  no, just tell them.  talk to them.  let them in.

first mommies.

on a Thursday morning, I stood next to her in the nicu, looking at her daughter.  our daughter.  I hugged her and thanked her.  but there were no words adequate for what had just happened.

on a Tuesday night, I sat across the table from her, and answered question after question about us, and our family.  I can still see the pain in her eyes as she tried to interview a family to raise her daughter.

birth mothers are often misunderstood.  most of the adoption questions I get asked stem around them.  how old they were.  what sort of 'problems' they had.  how much better off their child is with me.  the comments go on and on.
it's easy to see these women, and villainize them.  we want to be certain to distance ourselves from someone who could 'do something so awful' 'be so selfish' 'give up her kid.'  we want to make certain that we find all their flaws that put them in a place where they were able to 'walk away from their kid.'

and, in all honesty, you are partly right.  you could never do what they did.  but, it's not because you are better than them.  it's because they just made the most selfless choice any woman can ever make.  it's the choice to place their child in another families arms, simply because they want what's best for him.  this is not to say that placing a child is always what's best.  but, for my two daughters, I have no doubt that their mothers love them, and were trying to give them the best that they could.  it spurs me on, on days that parenting drags me down, and I want to give up.

the Saturday before mother's day is birth mother's day.  I want to say happy birth mother's day to my children's first mommies, and to the women everywhere who loved their child enough to carry him for nine months, give him a kiss goodbye, and step back so that he can be with the family you chose. 

your choice is the only reason that I get to celebrate on sunday morning.  thank you.


 

 

from the bottom of my very thankful mama's heart, happy birth mother's day!