no monsters under the bed here

i think i'll forgo the urge to apologize and explain away the six month gap between posts.... anyone who's readin' this and anyone who tries to blog regularly knows life keeps happenin', despite our best intentions.

i don't have anything adoption-related to write about this mornin'. actually, in the last few months, some of the adoption-frenzy that whirled inside of me for so long has subsided some. we've found ourselves pulled headlong into the life of parenting a rather opinionated, expressive, personality bursting toddler. our latest battle? 

paralyzing fear of the vacuum cleaner. 

it's a ferocious fear our brave little girl has somewhat suddenly developed. when she was itty bitty and making more noise crying than a freight train, i'd wrap her up against me and vacuum until she slipped away into baby slumber. and then somethin happened. not exactly sure what it was, and i'm not exactly sure when it was....but sometime in the last few months, the rumble of the vacuum cleaner switched from being soothing to soul-gripping. up until about a week ago, it was a manageable anxiety. i'd vacuum while she napped, and if i just had to do it while she was awake, josh would help. we tried everything from keeping her in the other room, thinkin maybe she'd outgrow the fear....to josh holdin her and talkin to her while i vacuumed....to puttin her little feet on the same carpet i was trying to clean....but nothin worked. it was mere survival. and like i said, this was all manageable until very recently.

the vacuum has a home. it's a hall closet it shares w/the coats, a yoga mat, an air mattress, and josh's grad school graduation gown that he refuses to get rid of. the closet is right next to the living room, and now riley has realized the door is the only thing b/w her and the frightening machine. about 4 days ago, she began pointing at the door and in her "i'm a little nervous here" voice, sayin "oodooo. ooodooo." translation: "there's somethin in there. i think i know what it is. i don't like it. but i'm not sure what want you to do about it." so we tried openin the door and showin her that the vacuum was put away. openin the door almost seemed better to her....as if it was better to see the monster rather than just fear that he was hiding behind the door. except that the pointing and the "oodoo"ing didn't stop. so we tried shuttin the door again. but that didn't work either. so we just left the door open. nope. still not makin any progress.

so a couple days ago, josh was gone, and it was just me and the tot. this routine of pointin at the door and "oodoo"ing was becoming incessant... we couldn't read books or stack blocks or even walk through the house. really? yes, really. so i decided, in all my 18mo of parenting wisdom and forethoughtfulness, "i will embrace this as an opportunity to teach my daughter not to be irrationally afraid of things." great idea, right? yes, of course it was.

attempt one: riley, i know you're afraid of the vacuum cleaner. that's okay right now. but look - the scary thing has a home, and sometimes when you're really afraid of something, you can just close the door....shut the scary thing behind somethin bigger and safer. riley, help mama shut the door. good job, riley! see? no more scary vacuum. the door is shut. 

this seemed to satisfy her for about 17 seconds.

attempt two: ignore the vacuum and ignore the pointing and "oodoo"ing.

this seemed to satisfy me for about 7 seconds.

attempt three: face the fear head on. i pulled the vacuum out of the closet and laid it over on its side. i sat beside it and started to mess w/the various dials and doors and wheels....tryin to show her that it's just made up of a whole bunch of parts that if found on any other piece of plastic, she would thoroughly enjoy. she kept her distance for a while....and then she would eventually lean forward and point to a part until i told her what it was. slowly, she inched her squatty little body toward me...and w/great trepidation, eventually sat down in my lap. i continued to name and show and play with the moveable parts.....and over the course of 40+ min (i am not kidding), she began touching and playing with the parts, too. 

i thought maybe we had conquered the fear once and for all....though it seems like this will be more of a process than a one-time deal. for convenience sake, i tried to return the vacuum to it's closet home, but the toddler fixation returned until the monster was drug from its den. so in the middle of the space b/w the living room and the dining room sits an upright vacuum cleaner....which, by the way, in its upright position still grips her w/anxiety and nervous "oodoo"ing. but as soon as we lay it over and (and this is an important step) go sit by it, she seems to gain some confidence.

it makes so sense to me, really. of all the things to be afraid of out here - a tree house whose first platform is about 5ft off the ground, a 100lb shaggy dog, sharp-clawed kittens....of these things, she's undaunted. the other day, she even walked off the couch - yes, was standin on the couch and walked right off the edge of it as if she could walk on air. and the vacuum cleaner is the monster. 

oh to know the inner workings of an 18mo old little girl.

right around the corner

i'm a swirl of thoughts and emotions today. i keep thinkin about this time last year - the 24 hours of unexpected tumult before riley was born, the mornin of her birth, the conversations and decisions on christmas day, the hospital stay, the tears and floods of emotion....and then riley's homecoming.

i think about her birthmom, who texted this mornin and asked for a picture or a video. she said she's havin a hard time today. of course she is. i can't imagine what christmas must be like for her. despite my edgier days (as recorded in my previous post), i really do want to be gracious and kind and patient. i need to be those things. i need to grow into a better version of myself where riley's birthmom is concerned. so after lunch, we got the camera out and tried to catch a few of riley's tricks - walking with the walker thing she got for christmas a few days ago, clappin for herself, pointin to her hair and pj's, and her latest face - the furrowed brow. we had fun and laughed and laughed. i just emailed them. the caregiver/fixer in me wishes there was somethin we could do to help bring her closure. somethin we could do to convince her she made the best decision. but we can't really. only she and The Lord can work to find Peace together.

i think about the last year and how in so many ways, it's been the best year of my life. i look at riley - while she's layin on her back, and i'm changin her diaper....w/a gigglin mouth full of teeth, a soft and squishy tummy, and a head of crazy hair...and i can hardly believe it. a baby in our house, in our arms...the pitter patter of a little girl chasin after us...the squeals of delight...the laughter when we wrestle...the little bitty socks that have disappeared....the livin room that's a danger zone due to the toys strewn about...our first arguments over whether or not she can play w/the dvds...her enjoyment and peace in bein outside... i think about the mornins i "sleep in" and have the babbles of a baby serve as my alarm clock....i think about the near constant desire to creep into her room and watch her sleep and the urge to pick her up and rock her for hours... i love the way she sounds, the way she smells, the way she looks, the way she eats and laughs and plays...

i think about Christmas. i think about how Christmas will never ever be the same again. in lots of ways. i think about the anticipation of birth and the community of people waitin for the Good News. i think about how wonderful it will be for riley to have a birthday-eve her whole life. i think about celebration and what Joy really is. i think about gratitude - for Grace, for Prayer, for longings fulfilled.

i think about wakin up tomorrow mornin and hearing the sounds of a happy one year old baby chatterin herself awake. i think about walkin in to get her out of her crib. in some ways, she'll think it's a mornin like every other mornin. in other ways, it's like she fully wakes up to a brand new day every mornin. maybe we'll sing. maybe we'll dance. maybe we'll laugh and play. we'll definitely delight in our little girl.

Beauty is everywhere today.

the rest of the story

we had a fairly rocky 7-10 days over thanksgiving....lots of things seemed to land on miss riley all at once - travel, a cold and cough, teething of molars, family, a wedding, and daddy workin a lot (which meant very little riley-daddy time). it was an unexpected rough patch, and although we seem to be well over the worst of it, the tension has stayed w/me some (and the anticipatory stress i'm havin over the busy-ness of this month isn't helpin).

have you read eastman's "are you my mother?" surely. remember the last not-my-mother thing, the big thing that the baby bird finds? not the kitten or the hen or the dog or the cow. the snort. when the baby bird realizes his mistake, he exclaims, "oh no! you are not my mother! you are a scary snort!"

days like today, when my temper and patience are equally short....i feel like riley looks at me and has that very same thought: "oh no! you are not my mother! you are a scary snort!" you look like my mother....you sound like my mother...you feel like my mother....but you are most definitely a scary snort.

and i feel rather snort-ish toward the birthmother right now, too. sometimes, i'm gracious. i feel gracious, and i behave graciously. but not always. sometimes, my phone dings w/a new text message, and when i see it's from her, i pretend i didn't see it for a while. when she wished us a happy thanksgiving, i responded "thanks! you too." but what i wanted to say was 'mind your own business.' when she asks if there's anything we want her to get riley for christmas, i don't know what to say. or when she says she's havin a hard time w/riley's birthday comin up....well, i'm just not very nice about it today.

i know - someone readin this is probably thinkin "well cut off communication w/her. it's your right, and your call." i know. but i don't think we need to make a decision like that just b/c i'm tired and moody.

today, it's just one of those things i want to forget about. i look at, listen to, and hold our beautiful one, and i most certainly don't want to be a snort to her.... but today, i can't say the same about her birthmother.

so there it is. the ugly truth.

exploring oceans

an ocean to explore....

in our western culture, we think everything's linear - life is a series of sequential events, people grow in developmental stages, and we conquer things w/in measurable parameters. sometimes this is true. sometimes things are linear. but not everything. and maybe not even most things. my current delving into the recesses of my heart and riley's adoption isn't linear. i think i try to make it linear, formulaic. it seems easier to me when struggles are perceived as equations....when i treat life like a marathon, tallyin mile markers along the way. 'seems' is the operative word here....

over and over again, i'm reminded that learnin to be a follower of Christ, a wife, a mother, a friend aren't one-dimensional objectives....they're experiences full of color and mess, beauty and sorrow, struggle and redemption. life and Life in The Lord are oceans to be explored....

one of the driving forces behind my current pursuit into adoptive mothering is a....what?...a sense? a wondering? a beckoning, even? i don't have the right word....but it's like there's a part of me that knows there's somethin else about this adoption thing that i'm not gettin. that the frustration and grief and confusion i'm carryin can't only be evidence of what i don't have, of what i can't do, of who i can't be....but evidence of what is offered. it's like....it's like bein hungry. when you're hungry, your hunger pangs and thoughts of food aren't only evidence of your lack of food....not only evidence of your desire for food....but also evidence that there is somethin out there that promises to satisfy.

these questions i'm wrestlin w/about adoption and riley and bein the kind of mother i dream of bein....i don't think they're just about the next 50 years of my life....i think they're drawin me to The Lord...maybe in ways i wouldn't know if i was able to conceive and carry our "natural" children.

i think there's somethin more to this than meets the eye.

difficult rights

i think we've been fortunate to adopt in the 21st century. the amount of information available to adoptive parents (or anyone interested in adoption) covers a wide range of subjects - everything from the logistics of the adoption process to literature discussing open adoption to bonding w/your adopted baby. technology helps, too. the access to all of this information is convenient and readily available, day or night. and there are online support groups....and while they don't offer the same degree of connection that an actual, 'we all meet in the same room and drink coffee' group would, they do help lessen the sense of isolation somewhat.

and yet....even in a world w/unprecedented information available...and in a time when candor is appreciated....there are some things that are just flat-out hard to talk about. hard to face. hard to wrestle with.

in adoption, and in most other aspects of life as best i can tell, we have a tendency to gloss over the more difficult places. if somethin's confusing, frustrating, sorrowful, or maddening, we're not sure what to do about it, what to do with it. we sure don't know what to say to someone who's in the middle of one of those places. so we tell others and ourselves - it'll work out. it'll be worth it. God has a plan.

and all those things are true. so very, very true. but 2 years ago, someone tellin me "it'll work out" didn't do me a hill of beans of good. this time last year, i was hangin on by a thread as we were tossed about on the seas of the birthmother's turmoil. i'd be so mad some days i couldn't see straight. all i could say was "i know this will be worth it in a few months, but that doesn't help me today." and yes, God's Goodness surpasses our understanding....but that doesn't answer all of my questions.

more specific to adoption, there are certain things that are uncomfortable to talk about. the money, for instance. the final cost of bringin home a baby through adoption, and the twists and turns just down the financial road were almost too much. or things like.....well, things like i've written about before - gettin to know the birthmother, the awkwardness and un-natural-ness of that relationship, and the inexpressible compassion we have for her...and how that compassion isn't always steady. or things like race and gender and special needs. these issues are so personal, so potentially controversial, so uncomfortable.... but in adoption, they have to be addressed. they can't be glossed over. you can't pretend they're not there. you can't hope they'll just work themselves out.

and i'm beginnin to wonder, too, if other questions don't need to be addressed as frankly, as straight-forwardly, as gently and courageously. such as....

(deep breath.....and bear w/me....these are things i haven't written or really talked about before, so the words may be rambly)

the idea of rights.

in this country, individual rights are a big damn deal. as they should be, maybe. i don't know - i'm not a philosopher or politician. but as americans, we are raised to believe we have rights - the right to vote, the right to be treated w/respect, the right to education, etc. i think this concept is deeply ingrained in us....even in terms of relationships and family. we have the right to have as many children as we want - unlike parts of the eastern world. women have the right to choose whether or not they want to give birth to their unborn baby. but what if you can't have children?

when i was in nursing school, i was fascinated by the body....how every aspect of a human being is intricately connected (mind, body, emotions, relationships, etc). one of the most fascinating facets was/is the life-giving power we have...from conception to birth to raising our children. the way we're designed to reproduce and nurture life, especially for women, is utterly amazing. down to the smallest detail - like a newborn can't see more than about 12" at first, and this is generally the distance from a woman's breast to her face, so that the first thing that newborn sees and focuses on and begins to recognize is his mother's face, even as he's receiving physical nourishment... or how unborn children can hear what's goin on in the outside world so that they recognize their parents' voices at birth...and how unborn children can feel the sway of their mother's gait and often times, after birth, go to sleep in their mother's arms when she's walkin b/c that's the rhythm their used to. i mean seriously! it's unbelievable!!!!!

but again...what if you can't carry a child? what about all of those built-in mechanisms to bond w/your mother and father....the ones who have cared for you the first 9 months of your tiny life? what happens to all of that if a baby and mother are matched after birth?

what about the birthmother's built-in, innate, natural "rights" to her child? just b/c a judge bangs a gavel and a piece of paper says "adoption finalization" doesn't dissolve the connection b/w a woman and the baby she conceived and gave birth to.

all of that to get here - one of the questions that lingers around the corners of my heart is this - do i have a right to riley? legally, there's no question. that was taken care of march 11. but i'm not talkin about legality. i'm talkin down deep....she's not our flesh and blood. her genetic makeup belongs to someone else. she's forever ours, i know that.....but is she thoroughly ours? can she be? how does that work? if we're made of genes and flesh and blood, and we're made to reproduce and pass those things on to the next generation, what happens when your family no longer shares them?

we're so proud when we look back at pictures and notice family resemblance - especially physically. sons who look like their fathers or uncles or great grandfathers. daughters who look like their grandmothers, cousins, and sisters. where did you get your eyes? your hair? your weird pinkie toe? and what about your quirks - like on forest gump when he meets his son for the first time after 6 or so years, and they sit down together in front of the tv and both cock their heads to the side. didn't that scene just melt your heart? does your heart not swell w/pride and a sense of deep belonging when someone says, "gosh, you look like your daddy." these connections run more deeply in us than we know, i think. we put a lot more stock in them than we realize. and adoption splinters that bedrock.

even when you're white, and you adopt a white baby. even though her hair color could pass as combination of yours and your husband's. she did not come from our bodies. she will not look like any of our pictures from when we were little. maybe a little, but not really. not year after year after year. and i can't help but wonder at times - do i feel differently b/c of that?

someone might be readin this and thinkin - what awful things to think about. you shouldn't dwell on negative thoughts. you have her. be grateful and move on.

maybe that approach works for some people. but it doesn't work for me. riley will be 10 months old in 4 days, and the lingering questions haven't disappeared. i'm not particularly proud of my uncertainty....but ignorin it or hopin time will take care of it hasn't worked. at all. so the only thing i know to do is drag it out into the light and see if it's as big and scary as it feels sometimes.

b/c i love her. deeply, adoringly, i love her. and i want my love for her to be good, true, high, and long. i want my love for her to be refined and redeemed if needed. i want to be a good, honest, devoted mother....not one who hides from hard things or hard questions. and b/c i want to be able to have an honest conversation w/her when/if she talks about not lookin like anyone in our families' photo albums.

adoption

i've been in a funk lately. in the last few weeks, we've moved into a new house, huntin season has started (which means josh is gone a lot more), and school started back up. i've been a little overwhelmed. i've never been a fan of movin and am notorious for never completely unpackin all the boxes. i'm also a procrastinator, so put all of that together, and you get a "i'd rather ignore everything and watch tv" funk. plrbgh.

as i've reflected on how i got here, into this funk, i've realized writin is often such a breath of fresh air for me...it can help me find a way out. writin helps me reflect. helps me become more aware of what's goin on inside and out. helps me see the light at the end of lots of proverbial tunnels. it's just flat-out good for me.

bein a parent of a 9-month old easily opens avenues for words and descriptions and stories....avenues that most other parents can relate to, sympathize with, or laugh at. and i enjoy this time of life, immensely. i love that riley gets cereal boogers from stickin her finger, knuckle deep, up her nose while eatin, smilin and gigglin all the while. in the midst of gettin frustrated w/her squirmy little body during a diaper change, i can't help but laugh when her bare-bottomed little body escapes and crawls like crazy across the floor. she's somehow learned to flash a smile when a camera is held up and delights in chewin on whatever she can find. she's quite vocal and regularly competes with the pastor for the congregation's attention on sunday mornins. we're just truckin right along....and she's growin like crazy (in the 90% for wt now!)...all three of us are havin a ball.

and i'm not only a parent of a 9-month old....i'm an adoptive parent of a precious baby girl to whom i did not give birth. some days, this is just a simple fact. others, it's a hard pill to swallow. i don't think i can say that it's a realization that ever brings warm and fuzzy feelings. and to say that i don't ever think about it, or that it's a non-issue now that riley is here would...well, frankly....be a lie.

it's this part of my life... no, wait.... it's more like a new color that sometimes shades and sometimes adds new beauty.... it's this color that i think i need to explore w/some degree of intentionality. it's the kinda color that can shade and shadow things as easily as it can invite and illuminate other things.... and i think exploring it more deliberately will bring healing to me....and hopefully one day, a grace-filled refuge for riley to explore for herself.

i'm thinkin this blog will serve as my means of wordy exploration....so reader, beware :)

i hope to write a bit more consistently and a bit more candidly regarding the life of an adoptive parent....and i hope to do so w/o apology. in a few days' time, i guess we'll see how determined i really am...

so.....

...two rather monumental things have occurred in the last few days.

1. josh and i finally found a house to buy here in seymour. super excited! hopefully movin in by the end of the month. we'll miss the character of our little white farm house and the most wonderful landlords in the whole world (really- the WHOLE world. i'm not jokin)...but it'll be nice to have a place we can call our own.

2. yesterday, we met w/riley's birthfamily.

yep. we did.

i intended to write a blog beforehand. but that didn't happen. so now there isn't a before and after sort of comparison to read and interpret. oh well.

ya know, there are a lot of days when i don't even think about riley bein adopted. it's not quite like i've forgotten necessarily....it's just the dailiness of life sorta washes over the rocks of our journey....eroding the jagged edges a little. and then there will be moments in which the edges, even those that are eroded and smooth, stick up outta the water a little. sometimes it's while i'm filin stuff away in the desk and come across the adoption folder - bulging and semi-organized. sometimes it's when i'm checkin out at united and the friendly cashier asks how old my baby is and if i'm still nursin her. sometimes it's when people (friends and strangers alike) comment on how riley's appearance favors josh's or mine. sometimes, it's when i get a text from her birthmother.

we've texted w/her off and on since bringin riley home. we rarely, if ever, initiate the textin or emailin....but we answer her questions, tell her stories, email pictures. contact w/her has slowly diminished in frequency over the last 7+ months. she's kind and considerate... and still immature.

all of the books and articles and experts advise adoptive parents to make all sorts of decisions, short- and long-term, prior to meeting the birthfamily....and definitely prior to the hospital experience. and they're advice makes sense. they argue that the emotional gravity of the relationship and the weight of all that happens at the hospital can lead folks (generally on the adoptive side) to agree to things they don't feel comfortable with, things that they'll regret later on. so, we tried to be good students and had what felt like a hundred conversations about how much contact we were willing to have w/riley's birthmother...we talked about this before we were even matched, then we talked just before we met her, then we talked several times b/w meetin her and goin to the hospital.....and we communicated our expectations w/her. we were all on the same page - talk and text and email before the baby's birth....only pictures and occasional emails afterwards.

then we arrived at the hospital. it was like walkin thru a drought-stricken desert for six years, and in a matter of moments, walkin into a monsoon. so many things we thought we had so firmly decided, so many opinions we held...they were washed away. the birthmother wanted to see us in the hospital. so we walked next door. her mother wanted to be the carrier of the baby - carryin riley back and forth b/w our room and the birthmother's room. and we welcomed the gesture. the birthmother wanted us to come to her room to get riley that last time...and we did. we took a great big deep breath and walked into the room w/empty arms....and came out carryin our baby girl. the birthmother wanted to see us again....in the future....6-9 months down the road. josh and i looked at each other, our hearts melted again, and we agreed.

a person. a human being. that's who the birthmother is. not an idea. not a statistic. not a vehicle for our fulfillment. not a long string of adjectives like irresponsible and immature, etc.... a person. a young woman who got into a tight spot. a woman who loved her unborn baby so deeply that she was willing to place her into our arms, hearts, and lives. a woman who carried a baby for 9 months, kissed her, and said goodbye. josh and i will never understand the road she's taken, the grief she's experienced, or the questions she may always have.

we decided that we wanted to do what we could to help her.... help her grieve, help her heal. we can't do much, but we can assure her of the redemption of her decision. we can assure her riley is well and healthy. we can assure her that we absolutely adore the baby she carried and birthed.

so yesterday, we ate chinese food w/riley's birthfamily - mother, grandmother, aunt, and nephew. they held her, took pictures, asked questions. we laughed at riley's funny games and faces and habits. we told stories. we ate. then we left.

that was it. it was....anticlimactic. it was nice and not threatening and relatively brief. and then over.

before, i was anxious. edgy. a little fidgety. all sorts of jagged edges scrapin thru the waters w/in....and maybe i'll write about those some days.

all kinds of other questions will undoubtedly arise....it'll be messier than we'd prefer, i'm sure. we'll eventually have to decide about future visits....there will come a time when bein in contact w/riley's birthmother will be more about what's best for riley than what's helpful for her birthmother. i'd kinda rather decide today and not look back rather than wrestle w/it as we all grow and change and age....but i kinda don't think that's best.

we get funny looks from most folks when we tell them we're still in contact w/the birthmother. but that's okay. for now, it's worth it.