Dear Baby Girl

Dear Baby Girl,

It's hard to believe it, but tomorrow is our court date.  Tomorrow is the day you become officially ours in the eyes of the law, once and forever.  Not that we need a legal proceeding to tell us what our heart has known all along.

There were times when your dad and I were scared.  In the years before you (difficult to imagine now) we began to wonder not when we would become parents, but if.  Was it in the stars?  Was it ordained to be?  I tried over and over to fight that feeling.  I tried to make peace with it.  I tried to not think about children at all.  Yet time again, the promise of you would settle into my mind and heart each night as I slept.

I've dreamt of you since my earliest memories.  Now that you are here, I don't know any other reality.  No other reality exists for us.  For our family, for our friends.  We didn't just gain a child.  I feel like the world gained a bit of magic right from the heavens.

From the moment we laid eyes on you, nothing has been the same.  My legs felt weak.  Your father stared in silence.  How can you put into words what it means to have the most powerful, beautiful, extraordinary wish come true?  You didn't cry. You looked up at us as if to ask, "Are you my family?"  We've been your family since before you arrived into this universe.

I knew being a mom would change me.  It has in countless ways.  I had no idea, though, just how much.  And your father?  He's literally a new person.  Your grammy, someone who has had her share of sadness, has a new light in her eyes.  Your grandparents are overjoyed at having finally their little "Peanut" to hold.  Your cousins, aunts and uncles adore you.  And your extended family, who come from all over the world, count you as their own.  You are loved beyond belief.

You have changed so much in the past nine months.  You talk incessantly about what must be important matters, I have no doubt.  You say "Daddy".  You laugh and giggle.  You point to lights, to pictures on the wall and to anything that draws your attention.  You have a special fondness for your kitty cat brothers.  You love your "birdies" (pacifiers) as dad and I call them.  Your favorite foods include peaches, spinach and turkey.  You sleep on your belly with your butt in the air, your hands tucked under you.  Everything about you is nothing short of amazing, and everything about you means...everything to us.

Tomorrow a magistrate will sign a paper that we've carried inside of us for a very long time.  A document that states once and for all, our dream has been realized.  I love you with such an intensity, it borders on painful at times.  Your smile, your hands, your eyelashes and every part of you are a poem written by God.  No one else but our Creator could make something so, so exquisite.

We love you and will protect you at all costs, will encourage you, cherish you, support you and stand by your side no matter what life brings.  No matter who you grow up to be, no matter how much we agree with your decisions, no matter where life takes you....you are our sunshine.  Tomorrow is quite literally the first day of forever.

Momma and Daddy

Time Flies...

It's been months since I've blogged, and honestly with good reason.  Our daughter is our absolute priority.  In the days since we first brought her home, she has changed our life in every conceivable way.  Lately I find myself holding her tighter than ever...it's as though I'm going through a new surge of "She's really ours!"  It's hard to describe.

She will be 4 months old in a few days.  Watching her grow is an amazing experience.  It's like every day you have a moment where you stare wide eyed, wondering what new ability she will master.  There is never a dull moment.  She grew from a moderately fussy newborn who afforded us two hours of sleep at a time, to a curious and playful infant that sleeps (thank you God) for 8 hour stretches.

She sucks her thumb now.  She rolls over, tentatively, but still she doesn't give up.  Balls, rattles and other toys hold her interest while videos really capture her attention.  She coos, she smiles incessantly and best of all..she now laughs.

I think about me this time last year.  I think about all the hopes I held so close inside.  At this point we were only two weeks into the adoption process.  I wondered if we would be approved by the agency, if we would pass the home study, if we would wait on some list for years and years as the calendar mercilessly flipped from month to month.  I want to whisper to that "me" that not only would everything work out beautifully, but that it would be much faster than we ever could have anticipated.  To this day people are shocked when we tell them we waited 2 months.  Some wait years.  Some never get that phone call.  The enormity of this is never lost on me.  Maybe it's because I was one of those people for a very long time.  And then my husband and I were one of those couples.  Until finally one day we gave it up to God and decided to see what adoption could bring.  How could we ever have hoped for someone so magical, so beautiful and so amazing?  Not in our wildest dreams.

God bless all those who are waiting for their call and who are making the decision to place their child.  Both of you are about to change lives forever.

As It Should Be

Our daughter is going through many changes in a very short span of time.  Within the past few weeks she began reaching for things, giggling and cooing in the middle of the night and even (thank goodness) sleeping for longer stretches.  Her newborn clothes are far too small and she has upgraded into the next diaper size.  Things are moving along well.

We prayed for a child and here she is.  But that does not come without challenges.  Our home is full of stray bottles, toys, strollers and random tiny socks.  We are sleep deprived.  Finishing sentences can be futile.  On most days I look like something the cat dragged in.  It's just part of raising a baby, and job that is indescribably important. 

It's exciting to see her personality as it emerges.  Day by day she becomes more of who she will ultimately be.  We are understandably protective of her, but it goes deeper than that.  We feel an aching when she is not in our arms because we waited for her for so long.  Not just her, but the promise of her.  People will say, "Well your adoption didn't take that long, did it?"  No.  It's much more involved than that.  We've waited for her long before we knew who she was.

Right now we are very busy in other areas of our life but she is priority number one.  That's not only how it has to be, it's how it should be.  We are both trying to maintain a smaller and smaller web presence during this time.  These newborn months..days..moments..they are fleeting.  The internet will remain. 

Being a parent is both easier and harder than I imagined.  Easier because I prayed incessantly for it and was completely mentally prepared.  Harder because you can never be completely physically prepared.  No matter what, it's the very very best thing we've ever experienced.  Nothing in the world  compares to it.

True Love

As a child, I struggled with fear of abandonment.  It wasn't because I was ever abandoned.  Yet somehow, I lived with the constant worry that my parents might be taken from me.  I worried that we would move from my familiar childhood home.  I worried that my grandparents would die.  Maybe it stems from being an only child, or perhaps it was the sudden and violent death of my uncle.  It was just a recurring concern in the back of my mind.

Because of this fear I've always needed to be needed.  I guess my mindset was that if someone really needed me, there was less chance of losing them.  Sadly as you grow up you realize this isn't necessarily the case.  Sometimes it's quite the opposite.  Maybe you need too much.

My husband needs me.  He makes it very clear.  The feeling of genuine attachment through love is quite unlike any other feeling.  It shows you where you stand in someone's mind, and it demonstrates the real value of your relationship.

Now that our daughter is here, I am feeling need in an entirely new way.  It is still baffling to me that this baby could be completely satiated...full belly, clean diaper....and then cry until I pick her up.  At that moment, she will settle down and her body relaxes.  She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs.  That sigh alone is enough to do me in.  How can one little, delicate, breathy sound say so much?  But it does.  More over, how can someone want me around that badly?  That they cry until they feel my arms around them?

It's something I will never, ever tire of.
 

FAQ's

When we began the adoption process, I scoured the internet for information.  I found a lot - but much of it was outdated, biased and quite often just plain wrong.  This isn't to say that I don't have my own bias when it comes to this experience, but I made the decision right then and there that once our adoption was complete (or near complete) I would talk about what really happened.  The incredible highs and the hold-your-breath lows. 

Myth - Adoption is not for everyone.
True.
You want to conceive but can't.  You get pregnant but the pregnancies aren't viable for long.  You simply think adoption is the choice for your family because you don't want to add to the population.  Whatever your reasons, adoption can be the greatest blessing of a lifetime.  But even blessings come with obstacles.  

Whether you choose domestic, international or foster adoption, there is a lot involved that you may or may not be prepared for upfront.  So before you begin this unbelievable journey, be sure to do your homework.  This doesn't mean reading a few brochures or taking the advice of some friends.  You need to be completely aware of what you are facing..the good and the bad.

Myth - Adoption is very expensive.
Mostly true.
If you choose to foster a child, not only are the immediate costs low to none, but the state will actually assist you with their care.  (Laws vary.)  If you choose domestic or international adoption, there is substantial cost.  If you use a facilitator along with an agency you could pay twice as much.  Private adoptions may be cheaper yet, but you definitely need to be sure you are covering all your bases with regard to legal issues.  You don't want to find out the hard way that some form did not get signed properly.  Domestic adoption can range from $5000 to $40,000 while international can get much higher still.  Plus international adoption requires travel and sometimes lengthy visits in the country of origin.  All things to consider.  There is an adoption tax credit available in the US for up to $13,000 which can help.

Myth - Newborn adoption is easier because of instant attachment/bonding.
Completely false.
Sure, a newborn has nothing to go by short of the sound of their birth mother's voice and heartbeat, but this in no way means the attachment phase will be easy - or even quick.  Becoming an adoptive parent is one of the most emotional experiences you can go through.  You have the obvious concerns associated with adoption on top of new parent jitters.  This can impede the bonding process.  Adoptive mothers go through hormonal changes that are very similar to those of a birth mother.  In some respects, an older child may be a bit easier because they can communicate their worries, fears and joys.

Myth - Adopted children are never truly accepted by society/family.
Depends on your family.
As for us, our baby girl is 100% ours.  There is no distinction drawn in our family or among our friends.  I wish I could say this was always true for everyone.  Multiracial adoption can be a struggle for both parents and child because of aesthetic and cultural differences.  Sometimes it doesn't matter that the child resembles you because there is occasionally a stigma associated with adoption.   Make sure that the people around you are supportive and loving.  Make sure you are bringing this child into a healthy environment.

Myth - Adoption takes years and years.
Sometimes.
Our domestic newborn adoption took 9 months from the day we contacted the agency to the day our daughter was born.  Sometimes they can take two or more years.  The average range with most agencies seems to be about 15+ months.  But there are cases when a child is placed within days of a home study being complete.  Don't let possible waits deter you.  Look at it this way...the time will pass anyway.  Why not be proactive in the meantime?

Myth - Open adoption is just glorified babysitting.
Most often false.
There are always horror stories about birth parents who don't respect boundaries.  On the whole, open adoptions have fewer issues because the birth family knows they have access to updates and possibly even visits with the child.  This is of course at your discretion.  Once parental rights are terminated, the biological family has zero legal recourse when it comes to when and if they have any contact with your child.  Still, knowing there is communication available makes it much more likely that the birth family will proceed with the adoption and will not change their minds.

Part II coming soon...
 

Left Foot, Right Foot...

From down the hall I could hear the soft strains of a lullaby.  My eyes were heavy.  I blinked slowly, trying to shut out the sunlight filtering through the window blinds.  I took a deep breath and pulled my daughter close to me.  She fussed and flailed a small fist, then settled back into a comfortable position.  She felt so warm.  She felt safe.  So different from this time two weeks ago.

Bringing our baby home from the hospital was a whirlwind of activity, emotions and new experiences.  Fear, elation, joy, confusion, fatigue, worry, the list goes on.  Nothing that any new parent hasn't gone through, with one glaring exception:  I've never gone through this.

My husband is strong.  He worries, he frets.  He gets frustrated and whispers pleas into her dark nursery, begging her to get some sleep.  But he has stepped into the role of father like no one I've ever known.  It fits him. It's as though it's always been.

For me, the first days of motherhood were plagued with nothing short of terror.  Was I really qualified?  Why was she crying?  Did I feed her ten minutes ago or an hour ago?  If I feed her again now will she get sick?  Was this the wrong formula?  Why isn't she smiling more?  When she does smile, does it mean anything?  Is she happy?  Does she know we are her parents?  Will she bond with us?  Will I bond with her?  Will her birth mother have a radical change of heart?  Have I just made a leap of faith over a chasm so great, I can't possibly land on my feet?

None of this is unusual.  What was unusual was my sadness.  This was the absolute, hands down, once in a lifetime opportunity I had prayed for for three decades.  Now this breathing, thriving, glorious gift was in my arms and...I didn't know how to feel.  It was as though someone threw me into a lake and held me under water.  I could not catch my breath, and the longer I stayed down there in the murky depths of my subconscious, the greater removed I felt from the life I once knew.

Our old life was fulfilling.  We went on trips.  We went hiking.  We went to the movies.  We slept in on the weekends.  We had dates.  We lived our lives.  We longed for a child to share this life with, and now she was here.  Time to celebrate!  Time to rejoice.  Instead I sat in her room at 3am, looking at this tiny, helpless soul and crying into my hands. 

I started reading.  Fast.  I did research.  I looked into why I felt as I did, and unbelievably, I found answers.  I was not alone.

Each day since has been better.  You have to crawl before you walk, pardon the pun, and in my case I'm just as much a newborn as our daughter.  I'm learning.  I'm learning who she is when she herself doesn't even know.  Most of all, I'm learning about my role as her mother.  It's a title I thought impossible.  You see, people don't just hand you the title of "mother".  It's not like a placard on your desk.  It's something to be earned.  I want to earn it. 

Nights are still hard.  Her colic, fear, hunger or general displeasure with this scary new world makes for very little sleep.  Sometimes I can't function.  I can't even finish sentences.  I skip words.  I hold onto the bannister on the stairs for fear of falling.  I wouldn't even try to drive these days.  I'm simply too tired. 

My husband is tired too, but he has been such a strong support.  The strongest yet.  He understands in a way others don't, and what he doesn't understand he accepts as my journey.  He loves me unconditionally.  He knows we will be great parents.  It takes time.

Our baby doesn't scare me today.  I still worry about the details, and I always will, but I've found  more peace with this new place in my life.  I will continue to improve because quite simply, I refuse not to.

Sleep will come some day.  Sanity along with it.  Until then, I am struggling each day to take care of myself and all my other responsibilities.  The world doesn't buy the reasoning, "But we're new parents".  Bills still come, chores still need tending to. 

We will be ok.  We will be better than ok.  But I want people to know there is no shame in postpartum depression or the lesser known PADS.  (Post Adoption Depression Syndrome)  There is no greater life change than the addition of a new child to a family.  It's a wonderful blessing, the best there is, and because of that it is also downright intimidating.  There are a million feelings to process and so we have got to be gentle with ourselves.  In order to be the best mom I can be, I have to take care of myself.  I have to show patience with my progress.  I will get there soon, I know.  I have the best motivator ever...a baby girl.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

I think after a week of increasing anxiety, my body finally gave in to exhaustion.  I slept very well last night.  I woke this morning and looked up at the sunrise.  Spent a lot of time thinking.  We got dressed for the cold January air and headed to church.

Our old Protestant church stands proudly at the corner of a suburban intersection.  It has a long history of strong, compassionate parishioners.  Today's congregation is no exception.  After delivering the sermon, our pastor called everyone forward to surround my family.  We held hands and bowed our heads.  Together we prayed for the success of our adoption, for strength for our birth mother and for a healthy child.  I did well until I uttered the words, "We pray for a successful adoption because this has been such a long journey."  Then the floodgates opened.  All the sadness, the disappointment, the heaviness of the past few years poured out of my heart and soul.  In that moment, I felt the strength of my church in a whole new way.  It's like when you tell someone you love them.  You mean it.  You mean it or you wouldn't say it.  But when you actually, truly feel the weight of that statement...it's life changing.  The energy in the sanctuary of our one hundred year old church was that of pure light.  
 
We enjoyed a family lunch and then went to the grocery store for a few items.  We still can't imagine being very hungry next week, but we did pick up a few snacks for our stay at the hospital.  Once home we checked our bags, made sure we have everything in order and now we're trying to stay occupied.  Hubby is watching football, I'm working on this and that.  We will definitely spend lots of cuddle time with our boys (cats) this evening.  They will always be our kids too, even if they are fanged and a little fluffier.

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of our lives.  We are thankful to every single person who has, in their own way, helped us through this process.  To those who have prayed and who continue to pray, those who have supported us emotionally, mentally and spiritually.  Your words have been like a comforting embrace.  Your shows of love are priceless.  Our journey isn't over...it's only beginning.  We pray that you will continue to be part of our adventure.