Adoption: Through The Eyes of an Adoptive Mother

Look at these two little beacons of light in a sometimes dark and dreary world.  They fill my life with joy, hope, and happiness.  They motivate me to do better and be better.  My life has purpose and meaning with them in it.  They are mine through the gift of adoption.  But, not mine and mine alone.  I share them with two beautiful women who brought them into this world.  Some call them birth-mother's.  I call them angels.

In light of recent news regarding adoption I wanted to share my experience from an adoptive parents' point of view.  These are MY feelings.  I don't expect that all adoptive parents share these same feelings.  I know that every adoption is unique and every person experiences something different because of perspective.

For as long as I can remember I have loved children.  As a teenager I took on babysitting jobs not only as a way to earn cash, but because I loved kids.  When my hubs and I were dating and engaged we talked about having a family.  We wanted four or five children.  Never once during those conversations did the idea even cross my mind that we may not get pregnant.  After being married for about six months we decided we would try to start our family.  My immature self expected to get pregnant within the first month.  It didn't happen.  Several months passed and I didn't get pregnant. Finally, after a year I decided maybe I should see a doctor.  At that point I started taking fertility medications, giving myself monthly shots and running numerous tests and procedures.  Months turned into years and still no babies.  There were days my heart ached and the tears flowed freely.  It seemed everyone around me was having babies; friends, sisters, sister-in-laws, cousins.  It was so unfair.  I was mad at God for blessing others with children when I couldn't have one.  I was mad at those single girls who became pregnant because they weren't deserving.  I was mad at the women who lived in poverty, did drugs, or abused their babies and could get pregnant and I couldn't.  Why would God allow such a thing?  Why was I being punished?

Eventually, I realized I wasn't being punished.  I realized too, that good things happen to bad people and I realized that those single pregnant women would be two of the greatest human-beings I would ever meet and love.  Once I decided to realize that God knew what was best was when things started to change.  I'll never forget leaving the University of Utah hospital after meeting with an infertility specialist.  We had two options if we wanted to become parents: IVF (In vitro fertilization) or adoption.  Although I remember crying from disappoint, I also remember a sense of relief  to FINALLY have answers so that we could move forward.  IVF would cost thousands of dollars and we gambled with a 50/50 chance of  ending up with a baby.  We decided we would rather put our money toward adoption.  People ask me if money weren't an issue would we have done IVF.  Probably not.  I was so over being pricked and prodded and medicated.  Infertility med's are not kind.  I gained weight, experienced hot flashes that even a menopausal woman couldn't compete with and was moodier than a premenstrual teenage girl.  On that day we decided adoption was for us and it left me feeling happy, anxious and hopeful.

The road to motherhood was still filled with bumps, twists and turns.
Hoop #1:  Money.  They say money can't buy happiness but in our case it could, and eventually, it did!  We patiently saved and tried to get our finances in order.  We saved to buy a house or a baby; whichever came first.

Hoop #2:  Adoption classes. Ugh! For me this was painfully awkward.  I had no desire to sit around with complete strangers and cry about not becoming pregnant.  By the time we got to this phase I was over infertility.  The last thing I wanted to do was to hash out the feelings I had felt for the past five years.  That, and I prefer grieving in the privacy of my home.

Hoop #3: Paperwork. If you thought buying a house was a lot of paperwork try adoption.   Imagine having to apply for parenthood.  We did exactly that! We submitted bank statements, letters of recommendation, background checks and proof of good health from our doctors.  On top of that we had to talk about our relationship which included intimacy questions and how we deal with conflicts and problems.  The form I hated filling out the  most was the one that included a list of check-boxes where we had to choose what kind of child we would accept.  How about an infant? A toddler?  Hispanic or African-American? A child with birth defects or cerebral palsy?  We weren't talking about choosing what car to buy but a human-being.!  Do you know how guilty I felt leaving certain boxes blank?

Hoop #4:  The home study.  Picture a house inspector making sure your house is clean, sanitary, safe and fit for a child.  Talk about pressure!  Every electrical outlet covered, every cleaning agent out of reach, and fire extinguishers, carbon monoxide, and fire alarms set in place.

Hoop #5:  We WAIT!  The fate of our parenthood was out of our hands.  The only thing left for us to do was pray and spread the word to family and friends.  Did you know that often times that is how adoptive couples find adoptive mothers is word of mouth?  Our birth mothers found us because they knew someone that we knew.  Did you know that the day we moved into our house we received the phone call from the adoption agency that we had been picked to be parents?  The waiting period of being chosen by a birth mother was over but we still had to wait for baby to arrive.

Do you know the roller-coaster of emotions that accompany adoption?  Guilt, joy, heartache, charity, disappointment, loyalty, pressure, and humility just to name a few.  For me, the guilt came from feeling so excited and happy to have this child come home with me and knowing that our dear birth-mother's left empty handed and brokenhearted.  Guilt because I had grown to love these birth-mother's like family.  They became my sisters and I hated to see them ache.  Pressure to be the best mother to these babies in order to not disappointment the birth-mother's and their families. Disappointment came when I wanted to take my sick leave to be with my baby but couldn't because I hadn't actually given birth.  Five weeks of sick leave I had saved, but my employer said no.  They would give me the time off alright, but I couldn't get paid for it.  I felt cheated once again that because I couldn't give birth I didn't have the same rights as all mothers.  Aside from that, I feel humbled to have such a privilege of experiencing adoption and to witness such pure, Christlike love emulated by our birth-mother's, and I will feel forever indebted and loyal to them for their gift and sacrifice.

My point in writing this is not for people to feel sorry for me or any other adoptive couples. It isn't meant to persuade anyone to adopt or place a child for adoption.  My purpose is for people to realize that yes, even though the adoptive couple ends up with the baby they went through a lot to get there.  Even through all the years of heartache and pain, I would go through it again to have met our angel birth mother's and these two little angels that make our world's go round.

Something Old- Always Wear Clean Underwear

It's time again for "Something Old."  This time I pulled a post off of my private family blog.  That was the blog I started when everyone was blogging.  The one where I posted EVERY vacation, event, or picture ever taken of my kids or family.  I lost interest.  It started to feel more like a chore than a hobby.  Not to mention I didn't feel "real."  I felt like I was only showing the "best" of my life.  When in reality not everyday around here is perfect.  Far from it.  So I started this blog.  I enjoy blogging again.  It's fun and therapeutic.  A great place to tell it how it is and keep it real.  I know many of you out there have lost your drive for blogging.  I know because I check your blogs that haven't been updated in months.  I know because I've talked to you and so many feel the same way...blogging has become a chore.  So here's what I suggest.....try a new approach.  Try writing your true, hearfelt feelings.  Blog about what you're passionate about.  Share what you believe and blogging will become fun again.  I loooove to read about real people living real lifes!  It's what keeps me motivated as a wife and mother.  So give it a shot.  Everyone has a story.  Share it!

Here is one of my not so perfect mornings for me.  It's time for school again so this will be a good reminder for all us moms out there.  Enjoy!

Originally posted January 27, 2011

We all know the boy scout motto of "Be prepared." We've also heard the saying, "always wear clean underwear." Little did I know that those 2 phrases would apply to taking your 6 year old daughter to school. 

Twice a week I drive Kam to her school. Which in and of itself is really quite lame considering we live 2 1/2 blocks from the school. She will never be able to tell her kids and grandkids that she walked five miles, uphill, in 10 feet of snow to school and then in the same horrible conditions back home after school. Maybe she can brag about how she had the best mom in the entire world who warmed up the car and drove her those 2 1/2 blocks so she didn't have to freeze. Maybe?

On a normal day I just drive her and her 3 little girlfriends and kick them out at the curb. I don't see anybody, I don't talk to anybody and nobody sees what I'm wearing from my neck down. Until today. The kids hopped out and off they ran. As I flipped around and started my long journey home I noticed Kam on the ground surrounded by some teachers with big tears rolling down her cheek. She saw me and we made eye contact. The look on her face was so sad! I couldn't get to her fast enough. And then I realized what I was wearing. But again, being the great mom that I am I didn't skip a beat, I sucked up my pride (which I don't have much of to begin with), and I ran to her rescue.

She had slipped hard on a patch of ice and had skinned her chin and her knee leaving a hole in her pant leg. Dang! I hugged her and kissed her and comforted her the best I could. I told her about the time when I was in the 9th grade and was booking it to class, I slipped on a patch of ice and landed flat on my face. Literally! When I jumped up the look on my friend's face was pure horror. My first thought was that I was bleeding my brains out. To my relief I wasn't but I had a bump the size of an egg above my right eye. She took me in the office and every person we saw literally gasped at the sight of my face. (Not because they thought I was ugly or anything but because of my injury. I knew I should probably clarify.) I ended up at the hospital later that day for x-rays and such. Fortunately I was fine but just left with a major black eye that lingered for several weeks. I'm not really sure that my sharing of this story comforted her in any way. Pretty sure it didn't but oh well! I tried.

As I talked to her and loved her a lady walked by and asked, "Is everything okay?" It was a simple question but sometimes the weirdest thoughts go through this brain of mine. I was thinking: Is she genuinely concerned or does she think I'm trying to kidnap this beautiful, exotic little girl with brown skin and blond hair who could not by physical appearance be my child? I know! I know! I'm weird! I always over analyze everything! It drives my husband CrAzY! I honestly stumbled upon my words to answer her simple question.

Once Kam was ready I sent her on into the school and I headed back to my car. As I returned to my car I realized that I was a sight to behold. I knew that as I went to rescue my daughter but like I said before I had no pride. Well...that may not be entirely true. I do have a spec of pride left in these bones of mine.

Picture this: red flannel pajama pants that are suppose to be pants but they're somewhere between a pant and a capri. A pantpri! It wasn't pretty! Black, slip on slipper/shoes on my feet. One of the hub's old, big, frumpy sweatshirts with paint stains all over it. Not to mention the name of my high school across the front. (Pretty sure I've been out of high school for 15 years now.) Thankfully it hid the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. A noticeably large pimple on my nose without a hint of concealer. Black make-up smudges under my eyes from the day before. (That's right. I don't wash my face.) Furry teeth that have yet to be brushed and hair that was frizzy and matted and had yet to be combed. Poor me!

As I drove the 2 1/2 blocks to my house I kept thinking to myself: One must always be prepared. This is why they say you should always wear clean underwear because you just never know what may happen. Lesson learned. But not really because I guarantee I look no different when I take Kam to school tomorrow. What are the chances that I have to get out of my car 2 days in a row? Slim to none right?

My Greatest Gifts

I didn't GIVE you the gift of life,

But in my HEART I know.

The LOVE I feel is deep and real,

As if it HAD BEEN so.

For us to have EACH OTHER

Is like a DREAM come true!

No, I didn't GIVE you

The GIFT of life,

Life gave me the GIFT of YOU!

Author Unknown

Keeping My Head Above Water

Oh hi. It's me. "Miss I Don't Stick To Anything I Start." Well maybe that's a bit harsh. My problem is I start something, veer off track a bit and then eventually find my way back to what I started. Again...consistency isn't my strong point. I guess a better way to look at it may be that at least I make my way back to what I started right? Maybe I'm not a quitter after all! I don't know about you other moms out there but Spring Break threw me off track a bit. My husband was gone the entire week of spring break. 8 days to be exact. He went here:

Look at those cherry blossoms! So pretty!

Home to Mr. President Obama. Should he be there? I'm not going to answer that question. This blog isn't about politics.

His youngest brother was accepted to United States Military Academy. (Awesome right?) So the hubs, his brother and dad went out to check out the area. They first started their journey in New York City. The hubs hated it!!! Too many people + drivers that don't obey traffic laws=cranky husband. He hardly even took any pictures there. Once they headed north to West Point he was a happy camper. And he loved all the history of Washington D.C.

The kids and I tried to make the best of our time without dad. Bugs is 100% daddy's girl and had a few melt downs throughout the week. One night she even slept in her dad's sweatshirt. She's too cute! The minute we sent her dad off at the airport she broke down in tears and was bawling her little eyes out. I said, "You don't cry like this when I leave." To which she said through her tears, "But dad is just my best dad." And I'm chop liver I suppose. No really. I love the relationship she has with her dad. It's very sweet! Plus I have a little boy who thinks I'm pretty awesome and he's 100% momma's boy.

I don't have any pictures of our escapades because I sent the camera with my man. On a side note: I told him to make sure not to lose the camera. It honestly is nothing fancy. A very small, very inexpensive digital camera. Kind of outdated too but it's all I have. His reply, "I won't lose it. I don't lose stuff." I gave him the look. (He loses everything.) He said, "I survived just fine for 2 years on my own." (Meaning his 2 year LDS Mission.) And guess what I said, "Yes but you had the Lord's help!" Good one huh? Obviously from the pictures above he didn't lose the camera. I'm so proud!

Our weekend started with a sleepover at Grandma Cindy's.

The following day we met my mom, sis and her kids to feed the ducks at the dam. Sooo cold and windy but the kids liked it. Moose threw entire slices of bread in at a time. Normally I wouldn't encourage it but the quicker we got rid of the bread the quicker we could leave. I'm a thinker. Next we went to pizza. Which was yum but not entirely enjoyable because Moose spilled his fruit punch right off the bat and insisted that he run around the restaurant while we tried to eat. I took him out to spank him but he didn't care. I'm convinced he enjoys pain.

The next day was General Conference which was excellent! We had plenty of goodies and set out the mini picnic table in the living room so the kids could color, listen and snack. They actually love conference. I think it's more about the treats and eating in the living room (which we don't do ever) but that's okay. You have to start somewhere.

Day 1 of spring break was a trip to the mall. The daughters choice not mine. They have this little play area with big squishy things to climb on like ice cream cones and soda. Kids thinks it's great! I think it's lame but being the great mom that I am we went to the mall. Did I mention that I stopped for a Diet Coke on the way so I'd be happy? I was happy until a stinky lady sat down right next to me. There were like 500 other spots to sit and she sat down RIGHT next to me. And I'm not trying to be rude but she smelled TERRIBLE!!! I don't do stinky smells and I was convinced that the BO smell was seeping into my delicious Diet Coke. At that point we decided to leave.

Day 2 & 3 we headed to Salt Lake to visit my brother, his wife and 2 adorable kids. The following day my SIL and I took the kids to Discovery Gateway. The kids loved it!

Day 4-McDonald's. Yep! The mall and then McDonald's all in 1 week. I'm living on the edge. I forgot to mention that it was snowing and freezing cold most the week so our options for activities were limited.

Day 5- Took the kids to see HOP. Super cute show!!!

Finally. The day that dad was coming home. I frantically worked and cleaned to make the house look good since I hadn't done any of that all week and then we headed to the airport to pick up the hubs. The kids were sooo happy and I was too. I guess it's true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or is it stronger? I never can remember how those sayings go. The hubs had grown a goatee while he was away. The kids couldn't get over it. (He rarely has facial hair because he can't in his profession.) They kept asking him why he had "pokies" aka whiskers and Moose was convinced that he could grow a mustache too.

So Spring Break came and went and we had fun but now I'm paying for it. The hubs came home with bronchitis. (Which he's convinced he picked up on the subway in N.Y. Again...can you feel his love for the place?) The Moose man started sounding croupy and had a rough couple of nights. I had 500 loads of laundry, an empty refrigerator and a 3 year old that dumps every possible toy out in the living room for the world to see and step on. Oh...and after he dumps them out he dumps out all the Easter eggs, gets out the pots and pans and spoons so he can drum like EB on HOP. (Seriously..take your kids to that movie. They will love it!) Right now we are both wearing Tupperware on our head for hats. I look fantastic!

Life is just busy and sometimes I feel like I can't keep my head above water. And then I wonder how all you working moms and mothers of more than 2 kids do it. You're amazing! And then I start to compare myself to you and feel like a loser. But then I read something on my friends blog here that really helped me. She likes to remind herself that she is usually comparing her worst to someone else's very best. Great advice and just what I needed to hear this week.

And another thought I keep coming back to when I get annoyed with the toys on the floor and the crustified snacks and sticky juice under the bar stools was a talk by our amazing prophet President Monson.

He said:

"If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will—to your surprise—miss them profoundly."

Isn't that the best? Go here to read his entire talk. It's soooo good!

So like Dorie says on Finding Nemo, "Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming." And that's what I'll do. I'll just keep trying to swim, doggy paddle or float so long as I'm keeping my head above water and "Finding Joy in the Journey."

A Case of Stolen Identity

Last week I was somewhere where a lady asked me what I liked to do. What were my hobbies? I think my answer was, "Uhhhh.....ummm....let me think. I like to read. I used to scrapbook. I like crafts but don't make them much anymore. I can tell you what I liked to do before I had children."

The more I have thought about this question of "what do I like to do" the more I realize that the things I enjoy and my hobbies have kind of evolved over the years. Ask me what I liked when I was single. (It wasn't dating that's for dang sure! I never was much of a boy magnet.) I liked going to aerobics. I can't believe I am even saying that. It's hard to believe that there was a time in my life when I actually enjoyed exercise. But if there was ever a time that was it. I loved road trips with my "bestie" to St. George. I loved being a groupie in a band. (It sounds kind of nerdy now. Probably was nerdy then but then again I wasn't the coolest kid on the block! I had fun and I guess that is what was important.) I liked scrapbooking and sending packages to my missionary and I loved shopping. Especially with my girlfriends or my sisters. And even back then I loved a good book to read!

Now fast forward a few years. I get married and what are my hobbies then? I still read. I still scrapbook. Aerobics...not so much! I put on a few pounds. I take up some new hobbies though. I go on bike rides with the hub. We camp and fish. We go to movies and go on dates. Just the 2 of us or sometimes with our friends. We road trip together and go on fun little vacations. We tried snowshoeing. I took up doing crafts and even sewing a bit. I start to enjoy cooking and baking a little more and start to try new recipes.

Fast forward 6 years. We FINALLY have a babe! Our LONG awaited bundle of joy! We are ecstatic! Our world revolves around her. But then....I realize that there is no more "pick up and go." There is no more, "Lets go to the movie tonight," at the very last minute. The spontaneity is gone! I feel a bit like a slave in a way. But that's okay because she is worth it. Walks and trips to the park become our new routine. Reading books, watching cartoons and coloring. The days of shopping for moi are gone. But that's okay too because she is so much more fun to shop for anyway. I continue to learn to cook and bake more and better. I gain even more weight. (Which is another reason I'd rather shop for baby girl.)I still read here and there. And scrapbooking? Forget about it. What is the point of getting everything out and then having to pick it all up and put it away again after 1 hour so baby girl doesn't get into everything? This is where digital scrapbooking peaks my interest. Is there time? Not really but I make time here and there. I take up running. Not sure why but I actually kind of like it. I start running 5K's and 10 K's. I feel empowered. But do I stay consistent? What do you think?

Fast forward again 3 more years. Baby boy comes! Cutest little boy EVER! I quit my job to be a stay at home mom. My dream! But then my dream becomes a reality and reality ain't always fun. But again...it's sooo worth it! Money is tight so shopping isn't really an option. BUT...if I do shop it's for the kiddies. Baking becomes my new coping mechanism. I enjoy trying new recipes and baking all sorts of yummy cookies and brownies that go straight to my thighs. And it makes me feel better. For a minute. I still read. When I have a moment. I take up blogging. That's kinda fun. When I actually stick to it! During the summer months we still go the park, play in the yard, go camping as a family, take bike rides and walks. During the winter months....we play playdough, watch lots of movies and frequent McDonald's playland. I had no clue that I would come to depend on McDonald's as a form of entertainment for my kids and another coping mechanism for myself. Thank you McDonald's for having the BEST Diet Coke for only .99 cents! You complete me!

Now my girl is turning 7 this year and my boy is 3. Life is getting simpler now in some ways. I even mentioned to the hubs that I think I have found my groove again. I'm back! But then that means my kids are growing up. Do I want to have my old life back full of shopping, and being a band groupie, and aerobics and spontaneity? Not really. I kind of like being a mom now on most days. My hobbies now include my kids. McDonald's isn't so bad as long as it puts a smile on the children's sweet little faces. I like reading children's books, walks to the park, watching cartoons, and playing playdough and if I can squeeze a date with the hubs, a good read, a run, or a minute alone to myself then that makes me happy too.

For awhile I thought I was lost. The old me was gone forever. I couldn't figure out how to be Tristin and a mom. It was no longer about what I wanted but what my babies needed. It's been tough trying to adapt to my new identity but now I think I get it. I'm TRISTIN the MOTHER of the most wonderful beings in the world! I can be both it just requires patience and sacrifice.