Ovarian cancer is a nasty, evil disease.  On Monday, it took the life of my friend.  She was an amazing person who fiercely fought the cancer.  She was someone you wanted to be friends with because she was a wonderful friend.  Even when battling cancer, she still wanted to know what you were struggling with and what was going on in your life.  You would spill your guts and then later kick yourself for unloading on her your petty worries when she was doing battle.  She was always optimistic.  Even though she was afraid and she did not want to lose her life with her husband, I never heard her question why this was her lot in life.  She was loving, compassionate, and feisty.  I can’t believe that she is gone.  She was 32 years old. 

She always dreamed of being a mother.  She would have been an amazing mother.  When she and her husband were having problems getting pregnant, they had exploratory surgery.  You can guess what they found.  She found out she had cancer 2 days before my son was born, late in August of 2005.  After her initial cancer surgery and cancer treatment, they thought that she had beaten the cancer.  They began to explore adoption.  She received adoption applications in the mail shortly before she found out that the cancer had returned.  That was in June of 2006.  This time, the cancer was back with a vengeance.  At first, treatments seemed to be working.  Just a few weeks ago, she went in for a CT scan.  She had a feeling that the treatment wasn’t working as well as before.  She was right, the cancer was slowly progressing.  They stopped the treatment and suggested that she find an experimental treatment.  She was to begin that treatment yesterday.  Instead, the cancer attacked her with a vengeance that no one expected.  The physical pain she experienced was excruciating.  She is now at peace.  Her funeral is in the morning.  I dread going because then her death will be  reality.  Right now, it feels like I just haven’t seen her in a while.  I don’t want to feel the pain of acknowledging that she really is gone.

Her death has reminded me of the tremendous influence that even the shortest life can have – for good or for bad.  She changed so many people for the better, myself included.  We all know those people who have lived a long life but influenced few.  We also know those people who seem to leak poison and pain.  She brought joy and faith.  She made you feel cared for by her.  She had a huge impact on my life.  I have had 2 miscarriages.  Their tiny and brief heartbeats had a tremendous impact on my life, on my husband’s life, and on my boys’ lives.  Their lives made me a better person, and I don’t regret them.  My friend made a tremendous impact on my life.  I wouldn’t trade the pain of losing her for the joy of knowing her.  I believe she is in heaven holding my babies, being the mom that she deserved to be.  I miss you, sweet friend.     

I am still alive.  I am making big changes with my business which will hopefully lead to more free time:)  It will be crazy busy for a month or two.  In addition, I am about to have a houseful of company for spring break.  Busy but fun!  Hopefully I can get all my work done with company here.  I will be back soon.  Sorry I haven’t had time to read and comment.  I hope everyone is doing well.

Wraith has written an excellent post that I wish every potential adoptive parent would read. Check it out!

My birthmother died violently in 1977.  Her killer was never found so her case is now a cold case.  My brother and I have talked about contacting the police department to request that they re-evaluate the case.  We both have just never done that.  His philosophy is that someone who is that evil has probably done it again and has probably been caught.  He feels that the killer is most likely dead or in jail.  For me, I am afraid to find out.  What if he is not in jail and he finds out about me and targets me and my family.  I just don’t want to get that close to that much evil.  I don’t want that evil to seep into my life.  I don’t want to know anymore of the gory details of her death.  I hate that her life ended that way.  I wish she had a different story.  Why am I thinking about this?  The 30th anniversary of her death is coming up this month.   I so wish it didn’t end that way.

Sitting at a restaurant this week with my family my mom pointed out a little girl who was obviously special needs.  “Look at her, how awful for that family, aren’t you lucky and blessed.”  Since I have heard similar things from her my entire life, it didn’t phase me, until she started with my oldest son.  I stopped her right away.  I don’t want him to stare at this family.  Everywhere they go they are stared at by other people.  How would you like to have to deal with that your entire life?  I don’t want my son to think “poor family”.  The family may feel that they are blessed, not burdened.  I don’t want my son making those judgements about others.  I want him to see the beauty in every person.  She was annoyed with me.  I have heard a variation of this theme my entire life.  Out in public, my mom would often point out those who are “different” and then proceed to tell me how fortunate I was.  She was not referring to my adoptee status because she would do the same thing with her biological children.  She would also point out overweight people and ask if she looked like that.  The proper answer would be, “of course not”.  It took me years to realize why my mom is this way.  Her mother was very critical.  My mom was the “golden” child and her sister was not.  Her sister was overweight and A LOT of focus was put on weight.  My mom has self-esteem issues so she points out other’s faults in order to build herself up.  Differences are BAD!  How do you think she dealt with my adoptee status?  How about we just pretend that I wasn’t adopted?  How do you think she reacted when my second son was born with a cleft in his hand?  She still has issues with him which is her loss.  I don’t want this “look at her” trait passed on to my children.  I don’t want them feeling that they are better than others.  I want them to see the blessings in others.  I want them to see the beauty in being different.  There is beauty in differences.

Sorry about the last post. Too little sleep combined with an overwhelming work load will do that to you!

I am a person with issues. Some of them are related to my being adopted. Some of them are related to my brother calling me “big toe” and “bony butt”. Just guessing here, but I bet that anyone reading this has their own set of issues. I am fortunate that my “issues” are small and manageable. Other people do not have that luxury. My issues are petty when compared with the issues of people who have had to deal with true hardships. Potential adoptive parents often ask if they should even consider adopting because adult adoptees seem to have so many issues related to the adoption. So what. Don’t potential adoptive parents have their own issues, say maybe one or two related to infertility. I am not trying to sound harsh towards adoptive parents, truly I am not. I just think that some people miss the point.  The issue is not whether or not the child will have issues, the issue is whether or not the parents are willing to acknowledge and openly deal with any issues that do, and will, arise. Just as they would when their biological child had issues to deal with in their life. Issues are simply a part of life. You just deal with your own unique set of issues.

I am sitting at the edge of the ocean with my feet being licked by the occasional wave. I lay back and my head is on warm sand not touched by the water. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sand by my head and the coolness of the sand by my feet. The waves bring the water to my feet and take away some of the sand that my feet were resting on. In washes a wave of feeling insecure and lonely. Out washes a wave of knowing why I feel that way. Knowledge is power, right? Not every time. The waves creep up my body taking away the warmth. The waves continue – Lonely, insecure, lonely, insecure. What is wrong with me? My head can logically know that I am not being left out and that I do have friends but my heart is saying other thoughts. Waves of tears well up in my body waiting for release. Just the slightest provocation will send the tears flowing. I am fighting these inner waves.  I understand why I feel this way, but I can’t seem to stop the waves from creeping higher and higher up my body. Here I am being swallowed by high tide, but it will recede. Right?

The wonderful holiday season.  Too much to do with too little time.  Spending time with family and friends (for some that is good for others – not so much).  The joy and the innocence of children at this time of year.  The pain that this time of year brings to many.   The weight that this time of year adds.  Good thing there are New Year’s resolutions   Personally, my holidays have been filled with joy.  Watching my 4 precious boys during this time of year is pure joy.  I believe that this is my last year to have them all believe in the magic of Christmas (big sigh) so I am sucking up every last morsel of this year before the maturity of next year.  Very, very, very behind with my work but somehow it is all okay.  I hope everyone out there had a wonderful holiday season.  I hope that those in pain are on a healing path.  Happy Holidays!  I will be back soon.

Do you ever feel that this whole adoption thing is a battle?  First, there is the battle for the possession of the child.  Then, their is the battle for the loyalty of the child.  From my own personal observation, it seems that adoptive parents are the ones starting the wars and picking the battles (not all adoptive parents).  First, there is the battle for the physical possession of the child.  Adoptive parents who choose domestic adoption must first be nice to potential birthparents.  Some adoptive parents skip this part of the battle by choosing international adoption.  Don’t deny the truth of this.  Do you know how many times I have heard, “We chose xy country because we did not want to have to deal with birthparents.  We did not want to have to have contact with the birth parents after the adoption.  We want OUR child to know who his/her REAL parents are.”  Those comments are the subject of an entirely different post so they won’t be dealt with at this time.  Once the adoptive parents have won the initial battle and the child is in their possession, their true motives become evident.  Maybe they promised to send pictures and letters but they do not fulfill their obligations.  Maybe they send “pictures” but they make sure that they are out of focus or tops of heads are cut off.  Why?  Because they view the birthparents as the adversaries!  The birthparents are trying to steal the loyalty of the child.  Which brings us to the next battle, the emotional possession of the child.  This battle is “won” by making sure that the child grows up understanding that their loyalty must be with the adoptive parents.  Adoption discussion is tolerated only on a superficial level.  Searching would be a treacherous act.  After all, the birthparents are evil enemies who would only corrupt the child.  Seems to me that if these adoptive parents could only understand one basic fact, birthparents are not adversaries.  In most cases, birthparents are making the difficult placement decision because they want to provide their child with the best possible life.  They enter into the adoption process with good faith, and sometimes they are slapped in the face.  Why wouldn’t they be bitter?  Why wouldn’t they be on the defensive?  If adoptive parents would just realize that it is in the best interest of the child to honor that large part of the child that comes from the birthparents.  If adoptive parents would just realize that by honoring birthparents they are honoring the child.  Maybe then they would begin to realize that the honor and respect that they show to the birthparents results in a closer bond to the very child that they are so fearful of losing.  Maybe if they would stop viewing it as a battle then a wonderful period of peace could occur.

Disclaimer:  There are many wonderful adoptive parents out there who truly honor the child and the birthparent.  This post is not aimed at them.  There are birthparents who are abusive/neglectful and contact would not be advised.  I am simply speaking about many situations that exist.

Thanksgiving is often a time of reflection. What things in your life are you thankful for? I AM TRULY thankful that my birthmother chose adoption for me. Why is gratefulness by an adoptee often viewed as a bad thing? I have so much admiration and respect for my birthmother’s willingness to make that decision. She was already parenting a son and she knew that she was not doing right by him. My brother has told me stories about his childhood with her. About the times when he could barely get her to wake up because she had ingested some substance. About the times when he was very young and he was left outside playing alone in the dark while she was in a room with a boy with the door shut. He has many similar stories. My brother has struggled most of his life. Much of that is because of the parenting that he received. He is trying to decide what path he wants to take in his life. For the first time in his life, he is thinking of long term goals. He knows that he has wasted away more than 10 years by abusing drugs and alcohol. He has struggled with relationships. I know that my fate could have been the same, but it wasn’t because my birthmother made such a huge sacrifice. I love my life. I can’t imagine life without my wonderful husband and my 4 precious boys. So yes, I am thankful that I am adopted. And yet…. I am still so envious that my brother knew, really knew my birthmother. He knew her smell, her voice, and her laughter. It pains me at times to know that he knew her touch, her hugs, her kisses. There it is, the but. I am thankful but… It does not make me any less “grateful”, but oh how I wish I could have known her, talked to her, TOUCHED her. The feel of her arms around me would be heaven. I wish I knew if she ever held me. Her touch, that is what I grieve the most. I so wish she could know my boys, my treasures. I wish I could know her personality, not just hear what she was like but truly know her. I wish, I wish. But….since she is dead, it will never be. Thankful, but….