Protective Silhouette

**The following is just a little ode to my sweet German Shepherd.**

Sitting at the door of the nursery, outlined by the glow of the dim light of a night light, is the silhouette of my dog.

He faces the hall, ears up, his head turned to the side so his long nose is visible.  He sits up tall, regal, alert.

This is the German Shepherd that earlier in the day jumped on my bed, tongue lolling out and yipping like a tiny puppy as he pranced around me to play.  This is the German Shepherd that howls when I play the piano, pounces on "shiney's" (reflections from phone screens, shadows, anything can move light on the wall).   This is the German Shepherd that can't help but lick his human brother's face every time he gets a chance.

But in this moment, he is guard and protector.  There is something different in his demeanor.  He isn't the playful puppy, the curious dog.  He sits at his post at the door, guarding the new precious family member and his mother, just a silhouette at the nursery door.    

Gratitude, Joy and Love

Today, my heart is full. 

I was given the opportunity to judge a middle school contest for our local district.  I always enjoy seeing the kids perform and being involved in our community in this way, supporting our little musicians.
Speaking of little musicians, my middle school students who participated today totally knocked it out of the park!   Truly impressed with the dedication, hard work and talent of "my" kids.
The other blessing to having a half day job is, for the first time since his birth, I had the opportunity to miss my little boy.  I have been to the grocery store without him and my morning run is solo, but an hour or so is just a nice break from the daily grind.  This morning was a substantial amount of time to be away, and I couldn't wait to hold my little man when I got home!
Speaking of my little man, I have just been overflowing with gratitude.  We have received so much support and love from people who are all so excited to celebrate our future with us and I'm so humbled and excited to raise our son among these amazing people.
I am grateful for Jim, for Si, my dogs, my life, for you.
I am joyful in the moments I've been experiencing.
I am loving my little three person, three dog family an awful lot.
Some days, my heart is just full.  God is good.

   

What Awesome Moms Have Taught Me

Early yesterday morning S, Josiah's birth mother, called to check in.  It was so nice to hear from her.  I have been sending her text messages every few days with pictures of our shared son with cute little updates about his weight or cute little antics.  She doesn't often respond, her life being busy and different than my own.  I hope so much that we can keep in contact with her, for our sons sake and because I genuinely care about S very deeply.  I may not know her well, and when we see her life I am sometimes shocked by the world she lives in and her decisions as she navigates it, but she is a part of our family in a deep way and in a way that is unlike any other person. 
Speaking with her the other morning, I was reminded of an aspect of my personal "motherhood story" that is incredibly important.  Not only is Josiah counting on me and my whole community cheering me on, but S, by choosing us, has asked me to be the best mom I possibly can be and I don't want to let her down.
I will never be a perfect mother and I have never met a perfect mother.  I have, however, had the privilege of being in contact with many great moms through the years.  And while I am not a fan at all of receiving unsolicited advice (seriously one of my biggest pet peeves), I do believe in learning from other people.  You know the words of wisdom-- if you want to be good at something, find someone who is already good at it and do what they do. 
Well, moms, I've been watching you.  From the time I was in high school to now, I have been evaluating and taking notes on how you take care of your kids.  I have noted the things that work really well, the things that don't, the things I just can't see myself doing.  But each of you reading this, if you have a kid, has impacted my own parenting.  Of course, some of you will be stronger influences than others (ahem, Mom...).
I have actually kept a list of things I have learned from other moms and I thought I would share a few of the bigger ones on the blog and say THANK YOU to all of the moms in my life who have influenced me and have essentially impacted my sons life through that.

1. Be calm.  I was born to older parents, as was Jim.  We may not be the most exciting couple in the world, but we are pretty calm under crisis.  I think it's partially from being raised in the calmer environment of older parents who weren't always on the go.  But who knows what it really is.  All I know for sure, is I am always in awe of calm mothers.  I am in awe of calm mothers of children who follow suite and play quietly while Mom does something else.  I am in awe of calm mothers who let their child have a crazy, throw-things-around-the-house kind of play without having a panic attack about it.  I've never seen a calm mom fly off the handle and yell something she'll regret.  Calm moms just seem happier.  The less stress, the better.

2. This too shall pass.  I think every mom I respect has made a comment at some point or another about a hard age to raise children.  It could be the terrible twos, the nights when they aren't sleeping, etc., but they all say "I remember the days when...".  Every stage passes and has it's highs and lows.  Infants are wonderful to cuddle and love but someday I don't have to worry about never sleeping again on account of feedings, because eventually, he will be able to sleep through the night without a bottle.  It'll pass, and I can hold out until it does.

3. Other mom's have experienced this.  When I find Josiah melting down in a grocery store (note I say when, not if, though we will be working hard on being respectful in public, I know the chances are high) I will remind myself that other women have been in that same position, likely other women who are within earshot.  Instead of letting embarrassment drive my emotions to become less than calm (see number one), I hope that I can take comfort in knowing that my child isn't the only one that has thrown a tantrum, or whatever "fun" thing he does in the future.

4. Take time for my spouse. I think the absolute best parenting I've seen in my life has been team work between a mom and a dad.  Though Josiah is my son for life, he will eventually not be living under the same roof as us.  I want to enjoy those years as much as we have enjoyed our marriage so far.  Jim is still a top priority. 

5. Remain myself.  I am not a parenting saint like my own mother.  While I know she enjoys reading and gardening, she dropped everything for me my whole childhood.  I don't know how she kept her sanity being as selfless as she was for so many years, but I know that if a few of my needs aren't met I am no good to anyone.  I have had to adjust aspects of my life to fit this new role and have to be more lenient because Josiah is always more important, but, I still get a run in 6 days a week, I still get a walk in (usually with him) most days and I still practice my instruments.  I plan on returning to work a couple of days a week because I feel connected to the community through my job and I love what I do.  I am so grateful to my mom that when I look back at my childhood I remember her as mom above all else.  I would have loved to know more about her, though, too, and I would like my son to recognize that I might be "mom" but that I'm also a person.

6. Stay healthy.  It might be tempting to drown my exhaustion in chocolate (which I may or may not have done a few times) but at the end of the day, I function better and am able to sleep and be awake better when I'm eating healthy and getting outdoor time.  One mom I know has been careful to eat healthy through many kids and it has rubbed off on them... I have never seen kids who love vegetables like hers and hate sweets!

7. I'm not his friend, but we can get along.  I'm mom.  He's not going to like it when I discipline him.  But I'm doing it to make him a better man.  That doesn't mean, however, that I have to be disciplinarian all the time and never have fun with him.  I have seen the "friend" parent, I have seen the "strict" parent, and I have seen the wonderful in between that I hope we can find in our relationship.

8. Apologize when I mess up.  Because I won't remain calm at all times, I will be selfish or embarrassed or angry.  Watching one dear friend apologize to her teenage daughter after a minor negative conversation showed me how important it is to let your child know that you know you make mistakes, too. 

9. Teach him everything I can.  Even though it might be annoying, everything is a learning opportunity and I can't rely on anyone else to teach him everything I hope he will know. 

10. Don't get caught up in what the world requires.  Josiah was born 5 weeks early.  At two months, babies are supposed to be doing certain things.  I think Josiah is in the norm for everything, but let's be honest here.  Some people are tall, some are short.  Some are thin, some are large.  Some are intelligent, some aren't.  It's not the end of the world if my baby isn't waving "bye bye" at the appropriate age.  While I will work to these goals, I'm not going to stress if we don't reach them on time.

11. Pray for him constantly.  Because it doesn't matter how hard I work at being a great mom, this world is fallen and he will experience pain.  He already has a different beginning than many his age.  I can't control his environment or his personality or things of that nature.  But God does amazing things and I can ask Him every day on behalf of my son.

Maybe I'm Thinking Too Much.

Our son is two months old and eleven pounds today.   He is doing well so far, though his number of bad nights continues to increase and his fussiness is increasing a bit.  But, I wasn't expecting the sleeping newborn for months.  I don't mind a few nights of poor sleep, but when they hit back to back, you have days like today... where I'm doing my best not to blink while writing this so I don't fall asleep mid sentence.  I know that sounds like a typical new mom, the being tired, so I apologize for not being interesting. 

During the past two months, having not a lot to do but hold a sleeping baby, I have had a lot of things to think through, the following is just one of them.

I don't want to wish a second away with our little blessing, but I am so looking forward to the days when he is more awake and coherent.  While cuddling my mostly sleeping baby has been all I've wanted and more, and while I know he is in a pretty easy phase of babyhood, I am waiting for the days when I detect recognition in his face regularly.

Becoming a mom the way I did, I wondered what bonding with my son would be like.  I worried that I would feel like I was caring for a little stranger, or that I wouldn't come to motherhood naturally because I didn't have the right hormones running rampant in my veins.  I worried that nurturing would be awkward for me, that I wouldn't fall in love with him as deeply as a parent should.
Those worries were vanquished when we were chosen and were completely cleared from view the moment he was born.  I have never for a second questioned Josiah being my son.  I love him more than I thought was possible.

But on the rare occasions that Josiah gets a contemplative look on his face-- a furrowed brow, his eyes focused intensely on mine-- I wonder if he is trying to find his birth mothers face.  On the few times that he has stared into the distance while laying on my chest, I wonder if he is remembering her faster heart beat and comparing it to my slower "runner pulse". 

I have no reason to believe that Josiah isn't comfortable and bonded to Jim and I at this point.  If I pick him up he almost instantly nuzzles into me, he smiles at my singing voice.  He is, overall, an easy going baby and we meet his needs countless times a day, including eye contact, reading, singing, love, cuddles, etc., etc.

Yet I wonder.  During our adoption preparation we were required to read a lot of books that focused on the negative aspects of adoption.  This is important, because the world has a rose colored view of the process that doesn't take into account some serious flaws and concerns.  But as I read, I became increasingly devastated.  I turned to the internet for some comfort and was of course met with more negative experiences, opinions and stories.

So selfishly I wait.  I enjoy the cuddles I have now, the longer naps, the pretty easy baby care, but I long for the moment when I can see, without a doubt, that Josiah looks at me and sees me as "mom".  The first time that my arms are the only ones that bring him comfort.  I look forward to that moment, because there are some moments... not very often... when, while I know Josiah is my son without a shadow of a doubt... sometimes I don't feel like he thinks I'm his mother.

Silly, maybe.  Temporary, most likely.  But still in my mind every once in a while.  Not right now, of course, as he has a hand on either side of me and he's sleeping with complete trust on my stomach.  Man, this kid is cute and has stolen my heart.

Time Changes Things

It's amazing how memory works.

While we were in Josiah's home state, I wrote everything I could down in the best detail I could manage.  I want to give him an accurate and honest portrayal of everything that happened, in case any questions are to arise in the future.  I want him to feel confident in his past and in his future.  So I wrote everything-- from every interaction with his biological family members, to the way the nurses were positioned when he was born, to the apartment we called home for two weeks.  I wrote down every good thing that happened, every bad.

I have read through it a few times, mostly to do some editing.  My hand cramped up early on so I took to a word document to write and sometimes in my haste I make silly errors.  It is surprising that only 6 weeks ago at this moment I was sitting in a hospital room miles and miles away, awaiting the birth of a boy not yet my own.  It's also surprising how much has become hazy that was so clear while we were there.

I don't know for sure, as I've obviously never experienced it myself, but I feel as though my memory is like that of a woman who has given birth.  The pain is all but forgotten, a baby boy in it's place.

There are some moments during those weeks that have remained clear, those memories etched forever in my mind as "special" and important.
The moment Josiah was born, I saw him, but only a second later I was looking at the face of the woman who gave him life.  I watched her close her eyes, I'm not sure if it was in relief that it was finally over or so that she didn't see him right away.  I can recall that moment to my mind in perfect detail even now.
I remember his little arms and legs flailing on the medical bassinet and the very overwhelming concern I had for this boy that looked far too small.
Coming out of my first shower after we arrived and hearing Jim, the new daddy, talking to his son.  I remember smiling at my own reflection in the mirror.
Having a conversation about our story with our hostess and then giving her a meager gift (not nearly worth the gift she had given us) and her gracious acceptance.
 Josiah's fist clinging to my finger the first time.  His first eye contact.  Minutes after his birth when he snuggled against my chest, his hand laying peacefully in front of his face, his cheek relaxed.

These things I remember clearly.

The hard things, while still there, aren't as clear.  The absolute fear I felt after a conversation went south that might have resulted in Josiah leaving our care, while still forever in my memory as a scary time, is a lot less vivid now.  While we were there, I was horrified and, if I'm honest, a little resentful of her power over our life at the time.  But now that there is a distance between us and the things that make his adoption a good decision, I find myself wishing his birth mother would text more often, because I kind of miss talking to her.  Now that we aren't being forgotten at the hospital, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal that they ignored us for a whole day.  Now that we are home, the not knowing where anything was doesn't seem like it was that bad.  Taking our 3 day old out to a strangers house in the freezing weather to be held by a whole slew of strangers (to us) doesn't seem intimidating.

The first two weeks of his life were difficult, but they make a lot of things that we encounter here seem a little easier.  Going to the grocery store alone with my baby?  No big thing, he's been to a grocery store and a few fast food places before with no incident.  Hold him at church for the whole service?  Not a problem, he pretty much lived in our laps the first two weeks.  Any other challenge that might arise?  He was on an airplane for a three hour flight at three weeks and totally nailed it.  I've done things with this baby I never pictured myself doing in all of my years of daydreaming about a baby, and I'm so glad I did.  I may not be a confident mother, but I certainly don't feel as scared as I thought I would be.

Just some thoughts as I sit here holding my little slightly over 8 pound baby (unofficially) as he drifts off for his final nap of the day.  He is getting three naps a day and sleeping through most nights with no incident.  Though he eats every 3 hours, we have one 4 hour stretch at night that is slowly expanding, much to my excitement.  His day includes some "tummy time", following toys around with his eyes, following my voice around and reading a few books.  We also listen to and sing along with Christian nursery rhymes (thank you so much, Analisa!  Side note; I'm a musician and for the first two weeks of Josiah's life I couldn't think of a single nursery rhyme.  I could hardly think of songs with lyrics, plenty of melodies of classical pieces.  It was as if I have never been to Sunday School).  My absolute favorite thing we do in our routine, however, is our long walks in the stroller and getting out of the house for errands.  He loves the stroller for deep sleeping, and I love my stroller of freedom.  We have walked to the Lampstand for drinks, to work for a couple of hours every week, to the grocery store, just around town and have attempted a few times to walk with the dogs (still working on that).

So far being a mom is going pretty well.  I'm pretty sure I'm pretty fortunate that he has been so easy going so far.


 

Hey, Since You Are Still Listening...

I don't know how long people will find my little corner of the internet entertaining to read, now that the major prayer has been answered and our Disney-like minds want it all to simply be a happy-ever-after from now on.  I don't know if my audience, which has grown in recent months as I have shared in the difficulties and the joys that we had in bringing home our son, will remain constant or dwindle with the lack of excitement in our lives.  So before I lose some of you to more entertaining stories, I wanted to ask you all to read one final post, if you would.  For the record, I'm not kicking you out, keep on reading as long as you want, I'll keep being honest and sharing whatever comes to mind.

Josiah Samuel is my son.  I held him moments after his birth, cradled under my shirt with his bare chest against mine.  I fell asleep to the sound of his rapid heart beat on the monitor only an hour before he was falling asleep to the security of mine.  He has taken my heart and expanded it and I'm grateful every second that he is mine.

I am grateful that I get to raise my son in this small community with people who have been so supportive of his start in life and who have cheered for his presence in our world.  I am grateful for the quality of people my son will grow up around in both talent and character.  I am grateful that my son will have the influence of these people as he discovers who he is and who he is meant to become.

However, no matter where my son is raised, his unique start to life will always have the potential for miscommunication and lack of understanding and I want to do what I can to give my son the best upbringing possible.  In our reading about adoption one of the common problems adopted individuals have brought up is the comments and questions by people who don't realize the damage of their words.  Because of this, I want to share with our friends and family some things that these people who have been through it would rather have not heard or dealt with.  It is my hope that my son has few instances where he has to deal with these.  It may sound pushy of me and you might be thinking I'm "that mom", but if you would simply read the following, I would be grateful.

-Please don't talk about my son's "real" parents.  Setting aside the sting Jim and I might feel (we are "real" parents, too), imagine for a minute that as a five year old you hear someone ask your mom about your "real" parents and how confusing that might be.  Or imagine being asked about "real" family members as you grow up, and having to differentiate and decide how "real" your family is.  We are his "real" family, just as his biological family is also his "real" family.  It's already confusing without being asked about it.

-Please don't tell him he's lucky, fortunate, or blessed to be with us.  We are blessed to have him as our son.  He shouldn't have to be grateful for how his life started anymore than any other child.  None of us choose our parents before we are born.  He should be just as grateful as any other child but not any more because he came into our home differently.

-Please don't share what you know of his past.  Some are privy to more information than others, but it is his past and his story.  Let him tell his story and if he has questions about it, tell him to come to us, we will always be open with him. We are planning on sharing his story with him, and do already reference S when we oo and aw over him.  However, there are aspects that aren't appropriate for different ages and we don't want him to think we were hiding something because someone brings it to him before us.

-Please don't ignore his adoption.  It is a part of his life.  He is our son, but he is also the son of someone else.  I don't expect you to bring it up, but if he wants to talk about it, I would be so grateful to know that he has some listening ears to validate his feelings and encourage him. 

-Please teach your children about adoption.  Teach them that their words can hurt.  A few common, thoughtless comments are "your birth mom didn't want you", "your birth mom was a bad person", "you don't look like your parents, you're weird" or simply joking about being adopted, as though it is a bad thing (many siblings joke that one or the other is adopted).  These little comments can last a lifetime, just like when we were growing up.  I remember being called fat, ugly, and weird on the playground and those comments from elementary school shaped my view of myself to this day.  I couldn't imagine questioning my identity because someone told me I was unwanted or came from a "bad" family... and neither of these things are accurate, anyway.  

  I believe that every person who touches my sons life will impact him in some way.  As I said, I feel blessed that the quality of people he will be raised around is so high.  Will you, my community, help my son have a great childhood, just like the childhoods I've witnessed so far here?

The Baby Shower

We have been married for a little over nine years and I can count on one hand the number of baby showers I have attended.  For many years I have avoided the pastel clad aisles of department stores, choosing to ignore the ridiculously cute, miniature items for sale there.
I was always genuinely happy for each expectant mother.  I was also sure that had I attended one of these parties I would have thoroughly enjoyed the companionship of the other women and the fun events that were planned.  Seeing pregnancy announcements, the cute smile of a toddler, an adorable pair of tiny shoes, the way a pregnant woman smiles when she holds her swelling midsection-- these things have been joyful. 
But there was always a chance.  Always a chance that one of these joyful things would be the reminder that would crush me beneath the weight of my potential childless future.  And while I would like to think I could pull my big girl pants up and deal with it well enough to hide any pain that might cause, I desperately didn't want to take the joy away from those celebrating.  So, to avoid being the girl crying in the bathroom at another woman's party, I have just not participated and let them celebrate without the threat of having me melt down.

Yesterday, however, I attended a baby shower I was beginning to think would never happen.  Surrounded by women who have prayed continuously for this little boy, I sat in a beautifully decorated room holding my little Josiah Samuel or opening gifts on his behalf.  My best friend and her daughter were there, my boss (Granny Shanny, to Josiah), my mother, running partners, students and their mothers, women from all walks of life at my church. 
Near me, a chair marked with his birth mothers name was reserved for her to represent her presence in his life.  I have yet to send her pictures of the event, but look forward to showing her the number of women who attended and the staggering number of books he received. 
After the presents were opened the women gathered around us and prayed over us.  I've never been the center of a prayer quite like that before, but it was surreal.  At one point, while I'm sure it wasn't particularly reverent of me, I looked through the crowd of women to peak at Danielle as she prayed not only for Josiah and I but for his whole family (biological included).  I may or may not have gotten choked up during that prayer.

I admit to arriving to the shower tired and a little overwhelmed.  I don't feel like I showed enough appreciation to those who attended or who put it on.  But let me assure you, the significance of that event is a memory we will cherish forever.  I loved the decorations, I loved the women who attended, every single gift was lovely (and he is now covered in the diaper, wipes, clothes and books departments).  I know that the women who put it on put a lot of work into it.  Thank you to everyone who came to celebrate Josiah.  We know that he will be loved by his church, his community, and his "family" (like Aunt Danielle and Cousin Kylynn).

Thank you.