10 of My Most Read Posts of 2013
“And at some point when the contractions didn’t stop and your baby was turned all wrong and the room filled up with medical strangers and your midwife started to look worried and you couldn’t even open your eyes because you were concentrating so hard on just surviving the pain, that’s when your mind dreamed for a moment of the sweet relief that would come if you could just let go of it all and die. The fierce desire to see the face of the Little One you’d known only in your dreams and in brief movements and flutters was the only thing that kept you tied to this earth and fighting to bring his life to your arms. It was then you realized while this is a natural process, it is not always safe. While women have been laboring and birthing babies since the dawn of time, many of them also died in that process. Mother graves beside baby graves. Women laboring in Africa today who will still be laboring tomorrow. And the next day. And soon their bodies will bring forth lifeless babies who could have been saved with a surgeon’s skilled hand. Or women in generations past who labored too long with babies in distress who were born with brain damage from the oxygen deprivation of an extended and complicated labor. This was the moment you were initiated into the sisterhood of women throughout time who have realized birth was not going to come easily or naturally for them, in spite of their best efforts.”
“But then you woke up. The alarm clock didn’t go off, but shockingly enough the baby still needed to get fed at about the same time it needed to get fed on weekday mornings. No one is old enough to reach the cereal bowls or competently pour milk, so you’ve got a job to do. Diapers don’t change themselves (except sometimes they DO which is even more horrific), one kid still can’t manage to take off footie pajamas without falling over, and the bedwetter doesn’t take off for weekends and holidays. Life keeps going. And it doesn’t just keep going, it keeps going EXACTLY THE SAME on Saturdays as on every other day. It is depressing.”
“I think that’s what’s the most surprising- it isn’t the official end to the hope that’s so hard and frustrating. It’s the hope itself. It is hard to live with a heart that refuses to believe what the doctors have told you. You get angry at yourself for wanting what you can’t have. And when you finally know that dream is over (at least for the month) you get angry at yourself for the moments you actually hoped it wouldn’t happen because you didn’t feel prepared or you worried for you or that potential child’s physical safety.
Infertility doesn’t let go. It doesn’t take days off. It builds you up just to drop you down. But it’s okay. You get used to the sudden drops and hard falls. And as I look at my little family built through three adoptions and a pregnancy that defied all the odds I can see God’s timing in it all. And I’m thankful.”
School Choice and Social Media Manners
“What I’m saying is this: If we remove our children from our neighborhood schools, that doesn’t mean those schools no longer matter. When you say something demeaning about those public school kids, you are often talking about children who are your brothers and sisters in Christ, or kids who are growing up in difficult situations, or kids who have unique needs. While all publicly schooled kids aren’t in a bad spot, most kids in a bad spot are also in public school. And yes, some of those kids are growing up without positive influences and may have developed troubling behaviors as a result. God grieves for those children. If you remove your kids from that environment you may have taken away those negative influences on your children, but you may have also removed your ability to influence those hurting families who desperately need it. Even if you structure your life so your kids never interact with those children, their adult world won’t be quite so segregated.”
Proud Breastfeeding Mom- you might be doing it wrong
“I know we moms give up a lot to do what’s best for our kids. Whether that means financial sacrifices, sacrifices of our time, even our very bodies. We need reassurance that what we’re doing is worth it. Sometimes we turn simple choices of personal preference or what we feel is best for our families into our identities in a an effort to convince ourselves it’s making a difference. Breastfeeding can be tough and requires a huge commitment. It is so helpful to have a supportive community around you that understands the sacrifice. What we don’t often consider is how that need to band together and be proud about our awesomeness comes across to those around us. For every woman who feels reaffirmed in her great decision to breastfeed by seeing the “What’s your super power” bumper sticker, there are women like me who feel demeaned. Sure there are women who choose not to breastfeed out of convenience but then there are the women who are raising babies who can’t nurse because of a medical issue, or moms who are taking a medication that can be passed through their breast milk, or moms who have adopted, or moms who in spite of their best efforts are not able to produce enough milk. We have positioned ourselves on one side of this mommy debate and left them standing on the other. Is that really what we want to do? Is our identity as milk-makers really that important?”
Adoption is Hard (or Why I was Watching Buffalo Videos Today)
“In hindsight it’s easy to see the signs that today was going to be a difficult day. For starters, instead of bringing his usual stuffed dog to breakfast, my son brought his buffalo. After I put the baby down for his morning nap I noticed some books were missing from the bookshelf. They were my Native American books. I found them on the end table where I guess my son had put them after thumbing through them. Then after doing a couple puzzles together (the usual- dinosaurs, jedis, Spiderman) he got down his big brother’s puzzle of the United States. I knew it would be tough (60 pieces for a 4 year-old is a bit of a stretch), but we sat down to do it together. As we assembled the puzzle Danny quietly asked, “Where the other Indian boys, Mommy?” I wasn’t sure how to respond, but over the course of finding the right spots for those 60 pieces he repeated the same question in different ways while I tried out different answers. Finally when we got to the South Dakota piece I said, “This is where the reservation is for the people in your tribe.” He said, “I from there?” I tried to explain how he was born in Nebraska, his birth family lives just 15 minutes from us, but his tribe is in South Dakota. That’s when he broke. My precious son who has been with me since he was just a few days old sobbed, “I can’t find my family. I can’t find my family.”
Let’s be Real about Motherhood
“So here’s a note to Future Me Who Has Become Forgetful: part of this whole motherhood thing was awful. Truly awful. Some days you wanted to cry and you felt totally inadequate. You self-medicated with candy you swore you only bought for the kids. You called your friends, hoping things were as terrible at their house even though you told them how sorry you were when you found out it was true. You absolutely loved your kids even in the midst of it, but keeping your cool required all of your focus so sometimes you forgot to brush their teeth. . . or yours.”
Why it takes 15 months (Adoption from Foster Care)
“While each state will have its own reasons for why a parent may have their rights terminated, many of those criteria are more subjective. When you see a child in foster care for 15 of the last 22 months, that is very objective. As a foster parent who longs to see kids in their permanent home as quickly as possible, it is often difficult to see them just waiting out the clock for 15 months. Coming from an adoption background, I initially couldn’t understand why nobody was in a hurry. If it is clear that a parent isn’t working on the case goals, why wasn’t anybody talking to them about relinquishment instead of just sitting back and waiting for that magical 15 month mark?”
How it Feels to not be a Feeler
“There’s an emotions party and everyone is invited but me. I have an awareness that everybody else is feeling things that I don’t feel. That’s kind of a bummer. Friends are crying about dropping kindergarteners off or they’re anxious about an upcoming move or they’re thrilled for some vacation time. I feel like I experience these things, but it muted colors. I wonder if in heaven I will experience the full range of passionate emotions that right now aren’t available to me. It does make certain elements of coping with life simpler, but can also be a source of discontent.”
“Foster moms aren’t magical. We don’t have unbreakable hearts or a different kind of love that protects us from pain. We love and grieve and then love again. We do it because we know that love is not divided. Love is not wasted. Love doesn’t collect interest when you put it away and save it for later.”