Getting Princess

My beautiful, little Princess.  Here is another "chapter" in her story. 

Princess was placed with us from the state system at four months old.  The first time we saw her at the foster home, she was dressed all in pink and had the most beautiful blue eyes. Looking back on it, there was definitely a sadness to them.  But that day, all I saw was my little girl.  My baby. I was so overwhelmed and honestly think I was in shock.  I just could not believe my dream was coming true.  We met Princess for that first time five days after getting the initial call from the social worker.  My feet still had not touched the ground, I was so excited and anxious and nervous.  

During the course of those five days, my husband and I narrowed our name choices to two with one being kind of a spunky name and the other being kind of a calm name.  So on the drive to the foster home for that first visit, we decided that we would pick the name based on her behavior and temperment.  She was so calm so we went with the second choice.  Boy oh boy... if only I had known that the calmness most likely was her withdrawal due to neglect in the foster home.  The spunky name definitely would have fit her better, but I convince myself now that the more "calm" name we gave her is something to strive for in our future. haha

Princess was exposed to drugs and alcohol and cigarettes while she was in utero.  We were told this from the initial phone call.  However, we were also told that she was very healthy and from the social worker's prediction, Princess had no lasting effects from her exposure.  If only I knew then what I know now....

Princess was also exposed to domestic violence in utero, but it was testing positive for drugs at birth that warranted the involvement from dcf.  She was released from the hospital and placed into a foster home with an older woman who specifically took in babies, specifically exposed babies.  That impressed me and comforted me that this woman had done this for years and Princess would undoubtedly benefit from all of that experience.  oh how wrong I was....

It was the only foster home our little girl was in and once it became evident that parental rights were going to be terminated, we got the phone call to start the adoption process. It was such a whirlwind.  We received the initial call on a Friday and met Princess for the first time the following Tuesday.  We took her for a weekend visit that Friday through Sunday.  We had to bring her back to the foster home on Sunday.  It was an incredibly difficult thing to do after having her in our home for three days. Then, we saw her again at a doctor's appointment that next Tuesday and the social worker brought her to us for good on Wednesday.

Twelve days from the initial phone call to her being permanently placed in our home under a "preadoptive" license.  Twelve very fast, very overwhelming days.  My husband and I went from being by ourselves praying and hoping for a baby to becoming parents in twelve days.  I went from being a full time elementary school teacher to a stay at home mom in twelve days.  We had a crib and a changing table/dresser and a bassinet in the house....just because.  We had gotten the nursery "set up" in a bare minimum way to take pictures to add to the photo book we had to submit during the licensing process.  In twelve days through the generosity of family, friends, and my co-workers we filled our house with a ton of stuff ranging from clothes, diapers, toys, and bottles.  I have often looked back on that whirlwind time and still get a smile on my face from the generosity that was shown to us.  I also get an ache in the pit of my stomach wishing I could go back and do it over.  Of course, life doesn't work like that. 

What would I do differently?  I would have read so much more- about drug exposed babies, sensory issues, and most importantly attachment parenting of an adopted baby.  I would have been focused on all of those things rather than on whether we had toys for her to play with.  I would have held her all the time.... literally.  I would have worn her in a wrap or a sling.  I would not have so easily put her down because she pushed away from me and I wanted to do what would make her "happy".  I would have attempted to breastfeed her.  (I didn't even know that was possible until recently.) I would not have let anyone else hold her for a very long time. I would have done infant massage with her and would have gotten a co-sleeper for our room. Oh, if only I had known.  I completely realize that none of these things would have guaranteed that we would not be dealing with some of the issues we have now, but I think it definitely would have helped.  

What I would not change is adopting her.  She is my answer to prayer, my miracle (my first miracle), one of my many blessings!  I love her beyond words I could express, even with all of the challenges she and I face together on a daily basis.  I strongly believe that God gives me what He thinks I can handle. I often joke that sometimes I think he has too high an opinion on what/how much I can handle, but I trust He knows what he is doing.  I also trust that we are now on the right path in getting her the help that she needs.  

I will tell more about that in a future post.  

Princess

This has been a crazy week.  Actually, most of my weeks are crazy.  In my head, I just have this little range of craziness I use to "grade" the level of crazy for the week.  Like, surprising good- low crazy level, or the usual hectic crazy level, or the terrible pulling - my hair out- crazy level.  This week started out at the usual level and has since escalated to the pulling my hair out level.  Not good.  

As a side note, I decided that I will refer to my oldest daughter as Princess and my youngest as Precious.  They are terms of endearment and yet can also convey a certain amount of sarcasm giving the day/hour/moment.  I tend to have a sarcastic side on occasion. 

Princess is three years old and is quite the complex little girl.  I should back up a little...

We are approaching the three year mark of the day we got the call from the social worker telling us that we had been chosen as a possible adoptive family for Princess.  I truly believe I was in shock for weeks afterward.  I couldn't believe my wish, my dream was coming true.  We had battled with infertility for about a year and a half and had just the day before the phone call started the process leading up to an IVF.  I had mentally gotten myself ready for all of the drugs, appointments, tests, and high hopes that I knew would go along with the IVF.  We had done many unsuccessful months of various drugs and unsuccessful IUI.  I was at such a low point in my life.  It seemed like everyone around me- friends, family members, and every stranger I saw was pregnant.  Honest.  I would go to a store (or worse- the mall) and I swear everyone I saw was pregnant.  Or at least that is how it seemed to me.  What was wrong with me???  I went through the rollercoaster of emotions: hopeful, depressed, angry, downright annoyed.  I had to suck it up and congratulate those I knew who were pregnant upon hearing their news.  And to be honest, deep down inside, I really was happy for them.  I would never wish the pain and heartbreak of infertility on anyone.  I just couldn't understand why I wasn't able to get pregnant.  

So, when that phone call came, my head started to spin and didn't stop until....no wait, there are days I am still waiting for it to stop.  haha

We adopted Princess from the foster care system in our state.  We had taken the classes and gotten licensed during the previous year when we started to realize that getting pregnant to start a family might not happen.  Being adopted myself, I was very comfortable with the idea. And my husband (haven't really thought of a good code name for him yet...working on it though) really warmed up to the idea of adoption.  

It was a whirlwind process of adopting Princess.  She came with one TPR (termination of parental rights) in place and they were waiting for the other TPR to be done by a judge within a month or two of her placement with us.  We were assured that her case was a very low risk one just as we requested.  We weren't comfortable with any high risk cases.  My heart had been broken too many times by that hated pregnancy test stick.  I knew I could not handle having a child placed with us and then having it taken away.  

Looking back, knowing what I know now, I would have had a lot more questions for the social worker.  I would have read a lot of books.  I would have done a lot of things differently with Princess.  But I would never change our choice.  I would still jump at the chance to adopt such a blessing.  I thank God everyday for the gifts He has given me and she is at the top of my list.  

I meant for this post to be about Princess.  I think it ended up all over the place.  And my posts all seem to end up longer than I had intended them to be... oh well, I'm still new at this blogging thing.  I will write a future post all about my little girl, Princess. 

A phone call

Yesterday I spoke with my birth mother on the phone.  There are times I still can not believe that I can even say that.  I was adopted at the age of ten weeks old by my parents and I consider myself so blessed that they are my parents.  They adopted my younger sister two years after me.  My sister and I were always told that we were adopted.  It was never something that was hidden or something to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. I am so grateful for that.  We celebrated our "anniversary day" as well as our birthdays in my house.  Our anniversary day is the day that my parents were able to take us home from the adoption home/orphanage.  My mom always made a small cake on that day and we talked about how lucky all of us were to be a family.  I treasure those little celebrations as times that built up my self identity and self esteem.  Growing up, I really didn't know anyone else who was adopted other than my sister.  I'm sure that there were others throughout my school years who were adopted, but it's not like I introduced myself as being adopted.  That would be weird.  It would also be implying that I was different somehow in a bad way.  Don't get me wrong.  I have plenty (too many actually) of experiences with someone implying being adopted was a negative thing.  Maybe someday I will write about some of them, but not today.  

Even though I grew up feeling secure about being adopted, I could not help but wonder about things.  I had some questions.  Okay... a lot of questions.  I don't really believe someone who is adopted who claims that they never thought about things while growing up. I would often wonder what "she" was like, what "he" was like, what happened that lead to my being given up for adoption.  But more importantly, the one question that haunted me was, "does she ever think about me".  I don't know why exactly this question was so important to me, but it was. Maybe I needed to think that I wasn't some awful painful memory that had been driven away. Maybe, even worse, I needed to know that I wasn't forgotten because "she" didn't care.  

Five years ago, I "found" my birthmother.  I used a person who does that kind of thing.  At the time, I did it because I was having a lot of health problems and the doctors had yet to figure out what was wrong with me.  I thought if I just had that huge missing piece of information (my medical history), things might make more sense to the doctors and then they could help me feel better quicker.  It was such an emotional experience to make that first phone call and to hear a voice on the other end that I felt should sound familiar to me, but didn't.  It was a very bumpy start to something I now like to refer to as a special friendship.  The communication was so awkward at first that we went almost three years ( I think) without any communication.  Then my mom gave me an article in a newspaper about an author who wrote the book, "The Girls Who Went Away".  I ordered the book and read it.  All I can say is wow.  It was a very difficult book for me to get through and I love to read and usually can read very quickly, but not that book.  I found some chapters mentally exhausting for me to wrap my thoughts around. However, it was one of the best things I could have done for myself.  I found so much understanding and sympathy for my birthmother after reading that book.  I gained a new, important perspective on what she must have gone through having given birth to me in the early 70s.  It was not a very understanding time, especially in a strict Catholic Italian family.  

After reading the book, I decided to write her a very heartfelt letter and told her about my two girls.  At the time I wrote the letter, dd1 was 2 and 1/2 years old and dd2 was about 4 months old.  I figured if my birthmother responded to the letter, then the communication between us would resume.  If she didn't respond, then I would respectfully leave her alone and not try to communicate with her again. I basically told her this at the end of the letter.  Six weeks later, I received a letter back from her.  I had told myself that I had made peace with whatever decision she made, but boy did I feel relief and happiness after receiving her letter to me.  Since then, we have exchanged many emails, photos, and have had many long phone calls.  It is different this time and I think it is because of the letter I wrote to her after reading that book.  It is more comfortable.  It still has its awkward moments on occasion, but those are rare.  We haven't met in person yet.  She lives pretty far from me and it would require a plane ride which just doesn't fit in my life yet and hasn't fit into hers yet.  We are however making plans to meet next summer provided our lives allow it to happen.  

Talking with her on the phone yesterday still feels so surreal sometimes.  We have no problem talking and the conversation flows easily which is nice.  It is usually after I hang up the phone and think about it, that a little smile emerges and I feel so thankful.  I thank God every night for all of the people in my life who love me and my family and I am so thankful to know that my birthmother is one of those people.  

My introduction

I have been working on getting this blog ready now for a couple of weeks and decided I should write my first post to introduce myself.  I have been reading blogs for about six months and it has turned into quite a habit.  I had no idea how addictive it would become for me!  I find that I get inspired and motivated from reading other's blogs.  Sometimes they make me think, sometimes they make me cry, and sometimes they make me laugh.  After doing a lot of thinking lately, I came to realize that I have so many blessings in my life and thought it was time to start writing about them. I don't know if anyone else will ever read this blog, but it will be good for me to journal about all of the things in my life.  

I am a 36 year old wife and mother.  I am also a teacher, but have decided to be a full time stay at home mom since starting our family three years ago.  This blog will be about myself and my family, although because I am a private person, I will not be using any real names.  My H. (husband) is 39, my oldest daughter(dd1) is three and her sister (dd2) is 22 months old.  I am a busy mom of two beautiful little girls who both have some special needs.  My dd1 is adopted and my dd2 is biological, but my heart sees no difference between the two.  I myself am adopted, so I have an interesting perspective as both an adoptee and as an adoptive mother.  In the past ten years, I have fallen in love, gotten married, got a full time teaching job, H. and I bought a house (before the market got crazy-yay!), I dealt with a serious illness that was later diagnosed as ulcerative colitis, I dealt with infertility and subsequent treatments, H. and I became licensed to adopt and then adopted a four month old little girl, I shockingly found myself pregnant three months after our daughter's adoption was finalized, I "found" and began building a friendship with my birth mother, I have learned a lot about PDD, sensory processing disorder, developmental delays, severe colic and reflux, and being a very busy mommy!  

I am passionate about my family, especially my children, my faith, breastfeeding, and attachment parenting. Some things I love doing are cooking, baking, reading, crafting, journaling, and organizing.  I don't get to do all of those things much anymore, but I do what I can when my crazy life allows it.  

I recently made the decision to start every day with an optimistic attitude that each day will be a "glass- half- full" kind of day.  Some days I am more successful with that attitude than others, but I am trying my best every day.