Aw, man! Nice timing.

We were taking some video yesterday of our little guy, and I was commenting about how my back hurt a little and I needed to be careful. After all, I didn't want my back to go out like Uncle Jose's. Cut to 5 minutes later and I'm lying on the floor crying in pain because that is exactly what happened.

I had to have my bob (i.e. husband) carry me to the bed, with me whimpering, crying and trying not to panic and make it worse.

The end result was me lying in bed all afternoon and evening and Bob taking care of the baby all night long. I can walk today and sit up to feed him, but I'm afraid to bend over to change a diaper or to carry him too much until my back is better.

Here is a picture of me trying to continue the bonding process with Baby Guy, and him loving it!

Cutest baby in the world!

We did it!

Baby's first bath at home! He certainly did not love the sponge bath, but he didn't wail the whole time either. It felt like quite an accomplishment. We made a pact before we started that we would laugh instead of stress if it was a disaster. We knew we'd look back and laugh anyway. Now if I could finally get the picture to upload! Blogger has been kicking my butt today.

I have a homemade calzone baking in the oven right now. Thanks, Jeanne!

Come on, picture...

Bath

I saw baby's first bath in the newborn nursery, and he did NOT like it. Now we have to give him one! I don't want to - he'll be sad. My mom says that babies need to cry in order to exercise their lungs - talk about a cardio workout! I'm not sure we'll try to capture this first sponge bath in person, but here are some more pictures to tide you over until we do.

We chickened out! Bath tomorrow.

Say, if I sound together, I'm not. Just ask Stacey or Karen, both of who I talked to on the phone tonight amidst tears of sleep deprivation and "What if I can't do this?"

Introducing...

Baby S!

I told you we'd have a baby before Christmas! I'm such a tease, I know.

Look at this guy - we could not be more thrilled! He is a great eater, burps with no trouble, and is a typical baby - up all night. Yikes!

Our sweet baby's birthmom was amazing. She invited me into the delivery room, and I actually got to see Baby S being born. We got to spend a lot of time with her in the hospital and she just loved the baby to pieces while he was in her care. We had an entrustment ceremony yesterday where she lovingly placed him into our arms. We will see her in a few weeks so she can see how much her baby has grown.

So, here are a few pics highlighting the first few days of his life! He was born early in the morning on Thursday and came home to our house and our wigged-out kitties on Saturday. I can hear him squeaking right now, so I'd better hurry off.

We love him so much already. This happened so fast and we can't believe he's ours - mine, DHs, birthmoms, birthdads, and our families'.

Love,
Amy

I'm spilling the beans...

We got The Call.

I was in the bathroom when it came in! I did not answer the phone, and the caller didn't leave a message. I looked at my cell phone for some reason, and noticed a phone number that looked suspiciously close to our caseworker's cell phone number. I remembered the cw's # because I had just that afternoon pulled out the slip of paper on which I wrote her number when J was supposed to call us.

The next thing I knew the phone was ringing again, and it was my bob (i.e. husband) on the phone confirming our dinner reservation time for that day. (Our anniversary, as you might remember.) I thought the timing of his call was a little suspicious and my heart began to pound a little. He asked me, "So, what's going on?"

"Nothing," I replied nonchalantly.

"I just wanted to make sure that 7:00 would work for you for dinner."

My heart dropping, I replied, "Yes, that's fine. Well, here is what is really going on...[explain phone numbers]."

"Well," he said slowly,"I was going to wait until I got home to tell you this, but...."

[Insert one of the most interesting phone conversation of our lives here.]

Aren't you curious about the details? How mean am I that I am not going to give them to you right now. Suffice it to say, if the parents do choose adoption after the baby is born, we will be parents by Chrismas! In fact, significantly sooner than that.

Stay tuned!

Pumpkin seeds!

I'm not a huge fan of Halloween. It's OK. I don't currently have any religious objections to it as long as the costumes are not evil or satanic (this coming from a gal who just saw The Texas Chainsaw Massacre). One year I was an M&M (see, my heart has always been with chocolate).

But, I do love pumpkin seeds! I made a batch last night and carved a pumpykin with triangle eyes, a triangle nose, and a smiling mouth with two teeth. (Uh, if I just took a picture I could show you, right? I wish I had gotten a picture when Chez stuck her head inside the pumpkin.)

I roasted the pumpkin seeds with canola oil, salt, and a dash of cayenne pepper. I made my husband eat some as I raved on about how good pumpkin seeds were. He said, "Do you have an emotional attachment to pumpkin seeds from your childhood?" Translation: "These taste like nothing. What's the big whoop?" I guess I must have some childhood memories surrounding pumpkin seeds. I really do like to eat them.

So, that was Halloween at our house. Our cats are orange and black, so we'll be festive for the rest of the month. The pumpkin seeds are almost all gone.

Anniversary and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre

No, we didn't go to see "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning" on our anniversary. But it was recently our anniversary, and we did see the Massacre. I highly don't recommended it unless you would like to feel sick for several hours afterward.

Thursday we celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary! I was super excited, because I've never been married for four years before. (Insert drum track - ba dum bum.) Wonderful things can happen on one's anniversary. We went to dinner at The Four Seasons Restaurant on Town Lake. It was SO yummy. For dessert we had a banana split "split." It was like a banana split ala carte. There were carmelized and plain bananas, whipped cream, chocolate ice cream, vanilla gelato and strawberry sorbet, peach, chocolate and a caramal sauces, and you mixed your own split. It was really fun and interesting.

I told you that yesterday we were going to the movies. Well, there are no good movies out right now. The two dumb ones we were wanting to see were man of the Year and School for Scoundrels. Both got terrible reviews on rottentomatoes.com, and both were sold out. SO, we saw the TCM:TB. lol. That cracks me up.

My mom put together a calendar last year and the October picture is my brother with a chainsaw. Hey, I have a pic. Here he is!



Be afraid - be very afraid.

Thanks, Kim!

I had an assistant music therapist today - a high school student who is interested in music therapy. It was great to have another voice and another pair of hands. My first group really put us to the test today! I think we were all tired because of the weather change here in Tejas, so we spent one song taking a "nap." I was praying, actually, but pretending to take a nap. That must have done the trick because we all perked right up after that.

What a cool job. I haven't even minded working Saturdays. It's kind of nice to drive downtown without any traffic, and feel like I've earned my lunch after 3 hours of musical fun. Today we sang, "The Cat Came Back," which is one of my all-time faves.

One of these days our lives are going to change big time, but for today we're living happily as two - off to the movies tonight. Alamo Drafthouse, here we come!

Ramblings

Right now Punky is cleaning Chez's fur. I just clipped 12 of Chez's claws and I guess now she needs some love.

This morning one of my music students climbed into my lap while I was singing a book. It was awesome - sweet kid. The book is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star but it has about 8 verses, in the form a story. Instead of reading it, I sing it in the TTLS tune. The illustrations are really good, too, although one of my guys wanted to know where the monster was.

Well, now Punky is biting her, but hey, they shared a moment. Cats.

Upon closer inspection, I think Chez only has two claws on her front left paw. Is that weird?

What makes me think I am not going to get any responses on this post?

Groundhog Day

Allright, where is our baby?

A few days after hearing that J's baby would be adopted by another couple, we received word of another situation. After a week of waiting to hear, we discovered that that baby, too, would be adopted by another couple. As far as we know, this is the third time a mom looking at our profile has chosen someone else.

It's amazing how much we've learned over the past few months. Every "no" is closer to a "yes," obviously, and each situation teaches us new things about ourselves, our possible future family, and our faith.

So now we've learned all about talking to a birthmom and having the match not happen, and about knowing that our profile is being viewed (at least 2 other times) and having the match not happen. I figure all we have left to learn is being chosen and then having the birthparents decide to parent. After that it should all work out, don't you think?

But, we know that God has built a hedge of protection around our profile until His choice is looking at it. That seems like a safe bet to me.

By the way, I think having a match and then having the mom decide to parent would be SO hard. However, listen close, ultimately we would be so happy that she decided to parent. As much as we would love a baby in our home, I do think that parenting is an excellent, excellent choice. I would never begrudge the mom if that situation were to happen, as painful as it would be. It is her baby.

With that, I'm back to work. Party on, Waynes.

Adoption loss

I hurt, too.

I understand that adoption is built on loss. People don't want to hear it sometimes, but it is. There are a lot of blogs out there from different perspectives - adoptive parents, adoptees, and birthparents - sometimes I think we don't hear each other very well.

In trying to understand everyone, I sometimes minimize my own pain. I even fought with myself over the order of the above list, not wanting to hurt anyone by putting adoptive parents first, or birthparents last or adoptees in the middle.

I think people forget that other people have struggles, too. Mine is infertility, yours is missing your first parents, hers is aching for her child placed for adoption. No matter what my brand of pain is, it hurts when it's mine!

Right now we have a lot of joy about hopefully being parents soon. We look forward to having a baby in our home, picking out outfits, feeding bottles, and even changing diapers. We have names picked out and fantasies about what it might be like to have a child call us Mom and Dad. We look forward to meeting that baby's birthparents and having them be a part of our lives. It won't always be rosy and gay, but it will always be real and we feel that God's hand will be on the situation.

But, we have not always been so optimistic. There have been a lot of tears, heartbreak and even anger. It's hard for me to express that now, because the sharpness of those feelings have dulled somewhat. Not that they don't spike here and there, but I think over the years that I have incorporated our infertility into my identity and it has gotten easier. So, does that mean that I should just suck it up and accept childlessness because that's the way it is? Isn't that the same as if I were to say to a birthparent who is missing their child, "Suck it up - that's the way it is?"

I'm sorry if you are a birthparent and someone told you that. I won't say the same. Maybe some adoptive parents would say or think that way, but that person is not me, nor is it most of the adoptive parents I know. I need to let up on myself, though, and realize that there isn't much I can do to help make your pain more bearable, though I want to.

Don't get mad at me for being a fixer - it's what I do. I wish we could share a coffee and listen to each other.

Weekend update

I am feeling somewhat refreshed, and a little bit ready to hit another week running.

Yesterday I started my groups for children and teens with Down Syndrome. We were supposed to start yesterday, then it looked like we would have to wait a week, but we ended up meeting after all. It was really fun. The kids were sweet, musical, and adorable. This is a great opportunity for me for several reasons, one of which is that the groups operate out of this amazing therapeutic space near downtown. I would usually have to rent space myself, but since this program is sponsored by the Down Syndrome Association I am provided a location to run the groups. Thanks, Down Syndrome Association of Central Texas!

After working we went to UT/Iowa State game and wore our UT-shirts. It was oppressingly hot, but we managed until the second half when it started to cool down. There was a big storm approaching. She arrived at 5:15 and they actually stopped the game at the end of the 3rd quarter. They restarted the game over an hour later, but by that time our bellies were full of our favorite Thai food (Madam Mam's) and we headed home. Poor Iowa State. Today I wore my ISU polo to try to even things out.

That's all folks! Weekend over. Next weekend we may go fishing - won't that be a kick? I've been, like, 3 times in my life.

Poor babies

Both of my furry babies had surgeries today! Ack!

Chez was spayed and Punky had two teeth pulled! My parents have had a lot of pets, and I don't remember any of them going to the dentist. However, it has been recommended for Punky several times, so we went for it.

Punky had to have two teeth pulled and had a growth removed from the front of his mouth. They both have shaved spots on their leg from the IV. Punky has a shaved spot on his face too, and of course Chez's chubby belly is now furless, too. Poor things. I cried when they came home. I love them.

Thanks for listening. I have to go pet the baby Chez now.

Kenny Loggins

I'm alright.

I have exhaustion! I have had such a physically and emotionally busy week and I am SO excited just to chill out later! Please don't let it rain for the big Iowa State/UT game tomorrow! Please can it with the exclamation point, self.

I am a music therapist. Does anybody know what that is? I know that someone does, and if she ever gets back in blogosphere and figures out who I am, she will share that fountain of knowledge with you, too.

(When I see paragraphs that all start with "I," I panic. But I am a music therapist, not an English teacher. Resisting the exclamation point there.)

My life is pretty snazzy professionally. I am doing some really fun things right now. I am consulting with a software company and adapting music materials for use in the special education classroom. I have a lovely private MT client and several darling music students. Next Saturday I start a 7-week music group for children and teenagers who have Down Syndrome, and am also doing some music therapy assessments and services for a school district.

I also go to Bible Study Fellowship on Monday nights, play the piano for the 1st grade choir at our church, and sing in the grown-up choir. I also go to a cool mom's group one day a week. I'm a mom, I just don't have any children in my house today. Maybe tomorrow.

So, I'm off to write up some music therapy reports.

Music therapy is the planned use of music and music interventions to bring about functional changes in human behavior, emotions or physical functioning.

A little down

By yesterday evening I was feeling pretty good. Tonight I feel a little down. I should never go by how I feel in the evening, though, because I am always more stressed then. I have a lot of work to do these days. It's just a matter of sitting down to do things, but tomorrow is a busy day, starting with a music class observation at 8:10.

I think I'll have an ice cream cone.

When we do have an expectant mom choose our profile, I'll have to find out if she likes ice cream as much as we do. I think that could really be a bonding moment for us.

Moolenium Crunch, here I come. Care to join me?

Baybe next time

OK, blog fanatics, this is what's really going down.

I thought last week was an emotional roller coaster, and it was. But this was nothing compared to what awaited us after returning from our adoption agency support group meeting.

One of the birthmother counselors at the agency let us know that an expectant mom had liked our profile and would be calling us the next day. We also knew that she would be talking to at least another couple as well, but of course we had hopes that we would like eachother and that she would choose us to parent her baby. To make a long story short, she decided on another family.

This is what all the concerns about confidentiality came from the other day.

The extended version of this story is that we did have a good conversation and we really like this young woman. (And I'm not just saying that because she could google us and end up here.) She reminded me a lot of myself, actually. When I pictured her she looked like me. Isn't that funny? The interesting thing is, in my mind's eye the picture I had of her was not pregnant. It really felt like a conversation about her and us and not a conversation about a baby. I think that's good.

We are disappointed, obviously, but I just know she made the right decision for herself. This was not our baby. That much is so clear.

It does feel a little like all of those negative pregnancy tests I had when we did treatments. I pictured Bob once again saying, "It's negative," like he and the nurse told me at least 10 times. I don't really remember what he said to me, but somehow I just knew from the way he sat that he had heard and that the news was not what we had hoped. I am ready for the other kind of news next time.

Right before I found out, I was coming home from BSF and the song "Broken Road" came on the radio. I know to some it seems like a cheese-head song, but it is one of my favorites. (Go see www.babytangerine.blogspot.com for the lyrics.) I drove an extra time around the block to hear it. Part of me thought, "This is it. I am going to go home to the best news of my life," and part of me thought, "God blesses the broken road that leads me straight to Him. It's OK if this is not it." Door #2 anyone?

Sigh. It has been one of the most emotional weeks of my whole life. I am glad to be hard at work this week and next. Things will slow down for me a little bit in October, but for now I'll take the high octane version to keep myself busy.

Like Barb, I'm tired of my drawing board. It looks different from hers, but I'm sick of drawing on it.

Love.

Enquiring minds

They want to know, yo?

Word to Thelma.

Life is exploding around us and we're just trying to keep it together!

Our wonderful agency, Buckner Adoption and Maternity Services, is changing and evolving. Last week we received word that the agency would be restructuring, combining the international and domestic adoption programs. While that change sounds fairly innocuous, for a group of people who have been trying and waiting for years and years to start a family it was earthshattering news.

I didn't want to say anything specific until it was official, but now it is all officializated and all. The hardest thing about this experience has been that our warm, wonderful, passionate, and experienced caseworker and agency director is no longer our caseworker or agency director. (Shout out to Carol who we love and adore, too! And Debbie who has stepped into something amazing and difficult.) This was the loss I expressed last week.

Since all this has happened I am suddenly concerned with confidentiality. Not that I wasn't before, but this is serious stuff here. When our profile is selected by an expectant mother and we are matched to receive an adoptive placement, I am not sure what to do about my wee bloggie (word to Thelma again). I started this blog to keep friends and family abreast of what is going on. It has turned into more than that, though! (I'd like to point out my use of the word abreast - love it or leave it?)

Do I discontinue the blog when there are other people's lives involved and intermeshed with ours?

Do I keep this blog all vague and philosophical and share specific future news with family and close friends only?

A new day has dawned on Expecting #1 Through Open Adoption. Bear with me here as I am praying about what to do about these sensitive issues.

My official answer to adopting.mama is that we've been waiting for 3 months, and no, we have not had a match meeting with an expectant mother.

Blogging Birthmothers, feel free to chime in here and let me know what you think about my questions. Thanks!

Bad Kitty

We love Chez Zee. She is SO cute, and SO fun, and SO interesting. However, the midnight crazies are about to drive us insane! Just when you think it's safe and she's settled down, she FREAKS OUT! This girl runs around all over the bed in the middle of the night and chases her tail, your feet, and sometimes my hair. She's nuts, I tell you.

I had a friend who wrote a song about the 6:am Cat Crazies or something similar. I had older cats at the time and didn't totally relate, but I think about this friend Carol now all the time! I haven't seen her in 6 years either.

Last night at about 1:am I finally had to put her in her room. I then ate a cracker and got back in bed without brushing my teeth again. Sorry, dear.

Hello, sports fans!

My dear husband and I are going to see UT football play Iowa State next week! What to wear?

I feel sick because I am so excited for the football game.

This oughta be good.

All better

Almost.

We have experienced a loss of someone dear to us in our adoption process. This person has been with us for a year, and we so care for her. Change is so hard, especially when the journey to parenthood has been so difficult and variable already. We know that adoption is built on loss, but this is one we did not expect.

Friend, I miss you. I am sad that you won't be with us on adoption day. I am praying for you and miss you already. It won't be the same without you, and yet I know it would be disappointing for you if we fell apart now after having come all this way. Just know that you are in our hearts and prayers and will always be an Auntie! Love you.

Oh, brother. I am in mascara again - hellooooo??

Mascara

Why do I even bother to wear mascara?

I'm not sure.

The past two days have been hard - really hard. Yesterday we had some disappointing news. Fortunately for me, I had not put on any makeup, because by the end of the day I had produced a lot of tears and other facial fluids. I produced some at the library as I read an outflowing of prayers on Hannah's Prayer (www.hannah.org), some at home while watching Oprah, and later, even though I had prepared by sticking two Kleenex in my purse, shed some more at choir practice. (How did I think I was going to get through choir with two measley tissues?)

So today I felt better. I put on some mascara, because surely I was through with the waterworks, and then when to my Mom to Mom Bible study group. I knew I was in trouble as soon as my friend C came up to lead a brief worship. Why hadn't I continued the no-makeup tradition? Why had I not thought to put a couple of tissues in my purse? At least I had my sleeve in lieu of tissues. The song we sang, or I sang about 9 words of, was I Love You, Lord.

Now, probably any other music would have also sent me reeling, but this was just the end. I Love You, Lord was the song that I sang to myself every morning and night as I struggled to get out of bed when I was going through a divorce 6 years ago.

I certainly wasn't grieving over divorce this morning. I don't think I was even really grieving at all. In fact, my tears this morning were those of relief. Relief that no matter what earthly things we go through, God loves me and comforts me. Relief that I know that whatever happens, God is there for me, knows me, and heals my heart when it breaks.

Don't be worried, guys, all is well. Hang in there with me on the ride. We will really go places!

Can anyone recommend me a good waterproof mascara?

Review of Open Adoption

I thought I'd repost my book review on Children of Open Adoption. (See part I post for reference.)

We are 100% committed to open adoption. In the event that the expectant mother who chooses us does not want an open adoption, and I hope she does, we would love for her to read some books about it and make sure that she knows about open adoption and what it might look like. The age of secrecy should be over by now.

I am reading an article from People Magazine about what adoption and maternity homes looked like in our recent past, and I don't like it. I will write more about that article later, but right now I have to go to the store so I can feed my family of two.

Stay tuned!

Children of Open Adoption - book review part I

Silber, K. & Dorner, P.M. (1990). Children of Open Adoption. San Antonio, Texas: Corona. ISBN 0-931722-78-0.

This book is dedicated to the authors' parents, children, and their childrens' birthmothers - a touching start to a very open book.

This one was a doozy! Very informative and comprehensive. This book has nine chapters, including:

-Open Adoption: Definition, Evolution, Benefits
-five chapters on open adoption through the child's life span from infancy to teenage years
-Long-Term Benefits for Everybody (includes parents, adoptees, birthparents, extended families, adoption professionals).

The goal of the book is to discuss issues regarding open adoption with children at various ages. It contains many letters from birthparents to children, adoptive parents to birthparents, and children to birthparents. The letters interspersed throughout the book keep the reader engaged and touched. Have tissures nearby.

Here is Silber and Dorner's definition of open adoption: "Open adoption includes the birthparents and adoptive parents meetring one another, sharing full identifying information, and having access to ongoing contact over the years. All three components must occur to fit this definition" p. 9. They go on to say, "Our new definition recognizes the birthparents as relatives of the child.... Acceptance of this reality is an important prerequisite to open adoption and an ongoing family relationship" p. 10.

Essential ingredients in open adoption include understanding that there are grief issues for each member of the adoption triad: baby, birthparents, and adoptive parents. People believe that the adoption experience is all joy and excitement for adoptive parents, but adoptive parents also deal with their own grief over the loss of their fertility. They quote, "Infertility is a loss - it is a loss of the imaginary or fantasy child. They will go through all of the normal stages of grieving for this loss, just as if they had lost a child through death. However, society does not relate to or understand the loss in infertility..." p. 23. It is especially important to process this loss in open adoption, because there is no pretending that the adopted child was born to the adoptive parents. Counseling is important in the open adoption experience so that each member of the triad can process their own feelings and grief.

Here are some highlights from the life stages:

Infancy - open adoption leads to feelings of bonding and entitlement because the birthparent has specifically chosen the adoptive couple to parent, so the adoptive parents feel entitled to raise the child.

Preschool age - talk about the birthparents often so that it becomes a normal part of your child's life and not a taboo, bizarre thing to them, don't leave out the part of your child's having come from their birthmothers womb, so they won't feel like they came from the agency and everyone else came from mommy's tummy

School-age child - children need to know that they are loved by their birthparents, and ongoing contact will assure them of this. This becomes especially important if the child gets teased about how his "real parents" didn't love him. He will know that is not true. Silber and Dorner state, " What we have seen in open adoption is a greater degree of comfort and peace with one's reality when contact is part of hte adoption experience" p. 73. This chapter also discusses the appropriate times to share information with your child regarding their birthparents life experiences and other children, visitiation, etc.

Stay tuned for part II!

Children of Open Adoption, part II

Book review - Children of Open Adoption

When we last left off, before Christmas, I had reviewed this book through "The School-age child -- I."

Part two of "The school-age child" includes information on relationships with extended family, when birthparents have inconsistent contact, and how the child will learn about and interact with siblings through birth or adoption. In summary, the authors state, "The greater the degree of openness, the less fantasizing that takes place and the more the issues are worked on" (p. 131).

Ah, the marvelous, dreaded teenage years. At this age the child of open adoption really gets to exercise her communication skills and process her experience. It is especially important during these years that the teenager has access to information about her heritage and birth family. "Our sense of self is defined not only by our present but also by our past. Through closed adoption our past becomes inaccessible" (p. 135).

A social worker of one teenager whose adoption transformed from a closed to an open one states, "She said it made her feel normal and like everybody else....I observed an immediate attitude change....The discovery seemed to have cemented the bonding between Sarah and her birth parents" (p. 151). Oh, yeah.

The last chapter is "Long-term benefits for everybody," including all members of the adoption triad (child, birthparents, adoptive parents), and also extended family and adoption professionals! Long term benefits include, feelings of control that the adoption is in the hands of the family and not the adoption professional, the adoptive parents feel entitled to raise their child since the birthparents chose that couple, everyone is permitted to grieve their losses and communicate those losses with each other, and the children grow up knowing/hearing that they are loved by all parties, thus leading to a higher self-awareness and self-esteem throughout their lives.

Read this book. Seriously. The authors know what they are talking about first hand, there are many applicable and interesting quotes, letters, and experiences. You will not be bored.

What is Sufism?

We go to a monthly support group called Adoption Knowledge Affiliates. This month the speaker is a teacher at the University for Spiritual Healing and Sufism, and will be speaking about experiencing adoption from the heart and not from the head.

Now, obviously my Christian faith is important to me. I mean, duh. But, because AKA is not affliliated with a religion, at least I didn't think so, I can accept that we don't talk about God and Jesus and religion. Although it feels artificial not to discuss matters of faith and adoption, because for us the two are inextricably linked, we participate like good little members.

Now this? We are going to have a lecture called "How to Experience Deeper Relationships in Adoption: Think From Your Heart, Not Your Head," from the perspective of a Master Teacher Muqadam in the Sufi tradition (I have no idea what this means). So, why are we not incorporating our faith in conversation? Maybe we will.

I'm not going. I'm not going because I have another commitment - a Christian one, in fact. So, I won't be able to give my opinions on this talk, or even see first-hand if this religion will be promoted at the meeting. Part of me is glad that I can't go. Part of me wants to attend.

So, before I open this up for discussion, I want to ask that we calmly and humanly express our knowledge and opinions on either Sufism, the place of religion in non-religious situations, or related topics. Only when we are able to talk about such loaded issues without disrespecting others' differing opinions can we learn anything about cultures outside our own.

So, what is Sufism?

Who goes where?

Revelation.

My nephew was baptized this morning. (No, that's not my revelation, stay with me, here.) Obviously, baptism is a time of introspection and reflection as we promise to pray for a child to be raised in a Christian home. It is also a time of family celebration and connectedness.

Sitting there in the congregation, I suddenly felt this moment of loss when I realized that my husband and I may never stand in front of our family with a baby that God created out of all of our DNA. We may never be looked upon by our congregation and hear them say, "They are such a cute combination of both of you!"

The weird thing about IF grief is that it can hit you out of nowhere right when you are feeling at peace with it. The weekend was a whirlwind of baby smells, a soccer game, family fun, laughter, and curiously, a sombrero. It was an easygoing, peaceful time of family. (I just need to clarify that I didn't spend the weekend in a cloud of sadness but rather a sun-shower of wholeness, connectedness, and joy. Sometimes grief is just a "twang" in my heart.)

The next thing that happened in the service was the Children's Story. Children of all ages, sizes, and coloring came forward and sat on the stage with the youth minister. "Those three obviously go together," I thought, "...and those two...and those...." Then, just as suddenly and clearly as I felt a sense of loss earlier, I felt an overwhelming sense of clarity.

I just had this revelation that families built through adoption are just as miraculous as those formed by birth. My nephews look like my brother and his wife - it's gorgeous, glorious, God-ordained. It's absolutely special. And yet, just one example of how a family is formed. In our case, we may not look alike (or we may, we just don't know), but we will be just as loving, just as connected, just as much family as one formed by birth. Our family will also be formed by God for His glory.

Randy and I formed a family when we married. We are not biologically related, but we are a family. My family also includes people who I am only distantly related to - my sister-in-law's parents and her sister, for example. (Hi, guys!) Randy's parents, brothers, and their wives and children, for another example. We are so blessed with loving families who have led by beautiful example. It's a good thing.

Now we're home and back to the wait. After a time surrounded by family, though, it suddenly doesn't seem like such a formidable task. Our lives aren't on hold for our first child. We still have friends and family, all struggling with one thing or another at times. Another beautiful thing about family is that it grows and changes with time. We share triumphs and tragedies, hard times and happy times, for better or for worse. I thank God for my family.

Now, the cat in the crib I am not so jazzed about...

Uh-oh.

A harbinger of power struggles to come, I'm sure.

Ponderances

I am still having a hard time waiting. But, this is an rolling the eyes, fast-toe-tapping, looking at the watch impatience this time.

This is the longest 2WW ever! D'ya know what the 2WW is? It's the time every woman with IF who is TTC looks forward to for 2 weeks and then hates by the time it is one week over. One fun thing about adoption is that The Call could come any day. I don't have to wait for two weeks for another chance. One not-so-fun thing about it is that the wait could be a year or more! Now I don't know which one I like better - having to wait 2 weeks or possibly waiting for 2 years.

I need constant reminders that this is all in God's plan and timing. Every day we aren't "chosen" is another day closer to when that plan will be revealed. (The Big Reveal, you know.) Seriously though, how much longer are we going to have to wait?

I am hardly twiddling my thumbs here. I have 3 jobs, 2 Bible studies, 2 cats at home, trips planned, chocolate to eat, trips planned (wait, I said that already).

Speaking of things to do, I'd better get a'cookin'.

Sad day.

You've gotta admit, this guy had charisma. I feel so sad for his wife and children.

I don't know what to say about this, only that I am sorry that this happened. I am glad at least he died doing what he loved.

Goodbye, Mr. Crocodile Hunter.

Beautiful, beautiful, brown eyes...

They're almost amber, those eyes. Punky's are more green. Isn't she gorgeous? She is getting more and more brown on her. (You can't tell from this picture.) She has black fur with brown highlights. People pay good money for hair like that!

Brought to you by the letter P

(Kinda stole that from Thelma - thanks, babe.)

Two of the things I love: the Pool and the Piano. See, the letter P.

I have had a good day. A really good day.

It started out with a surprise visit from a great friend! She drove by right as I was out getting the mail. She drove to Temple and back in time to pick up her kids at school. OK, the synogogue, that is, not Temple, Texas. Silly Amamy. I held up baby kitty in the window so she could see. She was suitably impressed.

That occurrance brings me to my first P. There are just some things that you do that feel so right, so very You. It may be caring for a baby, curling up in your favorite chair reading, or bringing meals to the elderly. When you are doing that Thing, you are practically invisible to yourself. My thing 1 is the swimming pool. I learned to swim when I was teeny, and almost drowned once. I swam in my first community swim meet at 7 years old in Lake Sherwood, California, and my dad took me to my first official meet in Ojai, CA the next year. I won my race. I grew up with access to a pool, joined the swim team as a kiddo and never stopped until I graduated from college. When I am in the pool, at the pool, or looking at the pool, I am Home.

I swim laps during the summer for exercise. My last lap of the day is scouring the bottom of the pool for my shadow. There I transcend space and time, and I am happier than a fish in the sea. I love to look at my shadow in the pool. My features have changed over the years, of course, but my silhouette is the same as it ever was. I'm bald in the pool, but I can see tendrils that have escaped my glamorous rubber cap as they shimmer under the water. This is my handstand lap, too. When I'm in there, I am ageless. I'm just Me.

My next P is the piano. This week I have been practicing a lot because Randy and I are playing piano/guitar in a wedding. So, instead of me spending endless hours on the internet, I am spending them at the piano. Again, it's so totally Me. I started piano when I was 6'ish. At my first lesson I thought I was so grown up, and I sat at the piano bench in my teacher's apartment (I hadn't ever remembered being in an aprtment before that) and crossed my legs like I had seen grown-ups do. My teacher said, "You need to have both feet on the floor," and I felt like I had gotten in trouble. So sensitive (some things never change).

When I was in high school I was miserable. I think I was clinically depressed for awhile, although I was never diagnosed. There were only two things I wanted to do. Run (???????) and play the piano. I wrote my college entrance essay on my most prized possession. You guessed it, my piano. Some day, some how, I am going to have myself a grand piano. A grand day it will be indeed.

The internet is a wonderful thing. So much information is at the tip of our fingers, 24 hours a day, no matter what continent we are on! I have made some great friends over the internet, Hannah's Prayer, and blogger friends, kept in touch with high school and college friends at the touch of the button, and have learned a lot of stuff about a lot of things. However, never have I gotten off the internet and said to myself, "I feel so very Me," like I have felt all day today.

I try to be genuine. I post about sadness and anger sometimes because I feel those things just like everyone does. The kind of person who pretends that things are peachy all the time is the kind of person I can't easily relate to. This is one of the reasons why I love Thelma, Christine, Mac, and Allison (blogging friends who tell it like it is. Shout outs to ya'll!)

If you ever want to catch me 100% Amy, find me at the pool or the piano. You'll get to know me as fast as lightening (or a sprinter - something I never have been!).

And I'm worth it

That's all I have to say about that!

Life is good. I already knew this in my conscious mind, but sometimes my subconscious doesn't listen to me. Bad subconscious.

I am sleepy today. This might have something to do with being up until 12:30 playing backgammon last night. I won, too.

OK, then. Goodnight.

Don't cry for me, Argentina

I'm fine. I am playing the piano for a wedding this weekend and have been spending time on practicing rather than on excessive internet useage. As wonderful as the internet is, I think it is stealing some of my joy. There are so many more productive and interesting things to do than visit People.com three times a day.

So, with that, I bid you adieu. To yieu and yieu and yieu. (Excessive reference to musicals, perhaps?) How DO you solve a problem like Maria? ;o)

Love,
Amy

Hello, rollercoaster.

I'm on it. How can I possibly feel blue with a baby kitty in the house? I don't know, but I do. Cognitively, I can't reason through it. I have so many things going on that are good and wonderful. But, I feel like crap.

CRAP, I tell you.

I'm not mad, I'm not even sad. I just feel nothing. I know this is probably the adoption rollercoaster - the part where I'm just standing in line.

"Aren't you just so excited?"

"Nope. Bored. Totally bored." (Yawn.)

Lunch is ready.

Oopsies!

Just as I was chronicling to Thelma about how well Punky and Chez were getting along, she goes and does a thing like this! Chez grabbed Punky's tail three times, and Punky finally hissed an took a swipe at her. Actually, he hissed three times and then growled and took an angry swipe at her.

More chronicles

This thing doesn't look so weird up close, I guess.





Yep, yep, pretty normal...

Introducing, Miss Kitty!

We have a new baby. Her name is Chez Zee. (The name of the restaurant where she was found.) We love her.

I would post pictures is blogger would let me, but it won't. What's up with that? Don't worry, I'm not going to get ANGRY (wink, wink) and throw something at the blogger guys and gals. What purpose would that serve?

So, the saga of Miss Kitty will have to be continued tomorrow. It's late and I have to go before my internet browser shuts down on me again!

Check me out.

Here are all the things my body can do:

see
hear
taste
smell
walk
run
skip
jump
chew food
digest food
eliminate food
swim a mile without dying
do handstands in the pool
play the guitar
play the piano
play the drum
play the clarinet
play the recorder
sing
read music
teach music
bring music to others
smile
laugh
share
pray
praise
this weird thing with my lips
make fish-faces
tolerate spicy hot foods
watch tv (too much)
type
hug
kiss
comb my hair
grow hair
blink
pop knuckles
pet my cat
help others
act like a dork
drive
ride a bike
rollerblade
whine (OK, I admit it)

Rude Awakening

I'm not healed, dog gonnit (is that blasphemy? sorry).

I am angry that my body is broken. I hate not being able to do something I want to do! I don't even really think this is about not achieving/sustaining pregnancy, but about feeling like I am not good enough to do something I want to do. This does not happen to me very often, and it is kicking my butt!

So, I am ANGRY today!

If you think I'm whining, then TOO BAD. Get over it. Go somewhere else.

(An uncharacteristic rant from my camp.)

I'm angry, God! Lord, turn this anger into something beautiful. You've done it before, Lord. I promise I'll thank you later, but right now I pray that you just know my heart.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We are fam-ily

I got all my nephews and me!

Ev'ryone can see we're together
As we walk on by.
And we fly just like birds of a feather -
I won't tell no lie.
All of the people around us they say,
"Can they be that close?"
Just let me state for the record -
We're giving love in a family dose.

We are fam-ily

Prison time

Today I went to jail, and then prison. It was a tragic story of love and loss.

First, let me clarify, my jailer was 6 years old, and my partner in crime, 3.

I was handcuffed and thrown in jail. I was innocent, I promise. My nephew (3K), who will be 4 in October, decided to visit me in my cell (the study). I don't know if I was pleased or afraid that the second time he came to visit me he brought me a gun. Excellent. So, we were hiding under the desk from the policeman (6K, in uniform), and I had the handcuffs in one pocket and the police officer's gun in the other. (The policeman changed to a laser gun.)

The officer came back in and I raised my gun and pow-powed him, as he did to me. He said, "It's time to move to the prison."

I said, "What's the charge? I need a lawyer. I'm innocent!"

Policeman: "No you're not - you shot me."

My attorney (Randy), "He's right, sweetie, you did."

Aw, man! So off to prison I went. Sad, scared, alone. But not for long. 3K soon brought me a fun baby toy where you push and pull the levers and Disney characters pop up. Then he brought me Elmo's guitar, an electronic game, and grabbers. He kept bringing me toys and saying, "Here you go - I brought you this," with a sweet smile. Later he brought me some cars to play with. Let me tell you that this boy loves cars, so he really must consider me a kindred spirit to bring me some.

The policeman made me sign an affidavit that I would not do anything bad again, and I had to write my name one million times on a piece of paper. I think I got in about 40 as the signature got bigger and bigger as I went. That seemed to be OK with 6K and I was released.

Believe me, I'm going straight from now on. That was a harrowing experience. Don't worry - you will not be seeing me on Americas Most Wanted.

The Potter

Here I go, here I go, here I go again.

It's my blog and I'll write what I want to.

I was feeling very infertile this morning. I go to an aerobics class once a week and there were some lovely pregnant bellies in there this a.m. It made me feel so different. Everyone in there but me has given birth or is about to do so again. That may never happen for me.

Don't think these feelings mean that I think adoption is second best. I know that God has a very special child planned for us to raise. I know that adoption is a gift just like conceiving and giving birth is a gift. But it still hurts to be different sometimes, even if it is God's plan.

So, we went into our Bible study time after that. To make a long story short, since I don't have God's Word in front of me right now, He is the potter and I am the clay. God shapes us all differently, and we know that because some of us are tall and larger than life, some of us are short and stick-thin, and some are various shapes in between. Right now, God molds me a little hollow in some areas (womb) and very full in others (my mommy heart). He may never mold me a beautiful pregnant belly.

There are some areas in which it's fun to be different. And sometimes being different just hurts. (Uh, yeah, you said that before.) But it does! It's worth saying again.

In any case, I felt better after that. Different, maybe, but whole.Right. Incredibly blessed. Embracing my beautiful difference. One of the ladies in my small group was adopted, and her presence also reminded me that adoption is an amazing way to bring families together.

Again, I am not disappointed that we are adopting rather than giving birth to our baby. I could not be more thrilled than if I became pregnant next year. I feel so attached to our someday baby and his/her birthparents already, and if I were to find myself pregnant I think it would be hard to wrap my heart around that at first. Can you believe it?

I'm going to freak out when we finally get The Call. I can barely contain my thoughts about it when I am not at work. (I'm not at work.) There is no rhyme or reason. "It will come when you least expect it" sounds good, but seriously, it just isn't true. It'll happen when expectant parents view our profile and choose for us to parent their child. That's how it works. I never expect it. I don't expect it at all.When it does happen I'll let you know.

Ta-da. My adoption thoughts for the day.

Love,
Amy

I'm a vegatarian.

Well, not really, But I did have lunch at a great vegetarian restaurant today. I went with Stacia. It was SOOOO good. I was in vegetarian heaven. I had a spicy (somethin') quesadillas served with a huge glob of guacamole. I also had a tomato-artichoke bisque soup that was wonderful. So thick and creamy but no dairy. I never knew vegetarian could taste SOOOO good.

But it was. I wanted to go back for dinner, but instead we had a meat fest. So much for my vegetarianism. It was fun while it lasted.

You've GOT to see this!

Go to www.twitchygirl.blogspot.com

It is a rockin' blog that will uplift your heart and teach you about Tourette's Syndrome, too. Inspirational AND educational? You'd better believe it!

Feeling my age. (Frown.)

By golly, I'm 36 years old. In the past week I had a startling, frightening realization - I am a grown-up. I am not a girl, or a young adult. I am a grown woman. I really don't know how I feel about this. Right now I feel, well, old.

OK, I know that 36 is not old at all. At ALL. But can I go around feeling 25 all the time? I know some of my friends are thinking that it would be bad if I started walking around acting all mature and stuff, and I don't see that happening, but I am an adult. I do not like it, Sam, I am.

But I really do! I don't want to be 25 again, or 18, or 30 for that matter. Oh, I don't know.

Here is what happened. I went to get fingerprinted for my teacher certification, and they had to take a picture for the FBI or something. (OK, it was for the state of Texas, but again, FBI sounds so much more dramatic!) I looked at the picture, a nice smile, a good hair day, and wrinkles. They were very, very distinct in the picture, around my eyes. For the first time in my entire life, I saw myself looking 36 years old.

People say to me, "You don't look 36!" (Or act it, for that matter). I have become very prideful about this. If I don't look 36, then I'm not. I'm young, and people see me and think, "There's a nice young woman." But this picture shows me at 36-years-old. It really threw me for a loop.

The next day, after noticing how grey my hair is looking these days, I went to buy some liquid hand soap at Bath and Body Works. The cheerful salesgirl met me at the door and in the way that only employees of B&BW do, said, "How are you? We are having a special today - 5 soaps for $15! The American Girl soaps are included if you have a pre-teen girl at home." A WHAT at home? I look like a woman who has a pre-teen at home? Who, me?

I am also a professional. This means that I shouldn't walk around in a ponytail with shorts and flip flops on. I should wear skirts, nice shoes, and wear make-up. I should wear suits, maybe, every day, with my hair in a low chignon. It would help if I knew what a low chignon was, but doesn't it sound professional? I should carry a briefcase everywhere I go, wear an earpiece for a cell phone and say, repeatedly, "Have those papers in my office first thing tomorrow morning," and, "I think we can make this work. Let's have a conference call this afternoon."

I am having fun with this now, but the fact remains. I am having an identity crisis, and I think it is adoption/parenting related. Many people my age have pre-teens and school-aged children in their home. We have neither. Soon, we will be parents. Parents need to be civilized, grown-up, responsible, and mature. Can I be those things and still be me? I can be 36, look 36, and be cool, right?

I have no snappy wrap-up to this uncharacteristic rant. So, bye. (I know, SO mature...)

SO fun

I love my new job. It's so fun. I could tell you about it, but then I'd have to, well, you know...

Anyway, I am working right now so I should NOT be blogging, but I am having such a good time that I can't stop myself. See you soon!

A new picture, perhaps?

I don't have short hair anymore. When did this happen? I'm on a hair strike. I am not going to get it cut until we have a baby in our humble home.

I just noticed how totally lovely my hair looks in this picture. Maybe I should change my mind!!

Oh, fine.

I guess Christine has a problem with public displays of Speedos, so I'd better just post over it.

That's it, I'm going back to work. I need something else on my mind besides waiting for baby. I am convinced that we will be the last couple 'chosen" (in quotes because we already decided that it's God's plan and not a random choice but I like to be dramatic).

What are you passionate about? I love music. I especially love music when the audience is appreciative of it, too. Working on my new project today, I was moved to tears thinking about how much my students with special needs will love, LOVE this music and they way it's presented. I will be consulting on this project over the next few months, and hopefully when the bulk of the work is over we'll get "The Call." God only knows.

Swimmers are weirdos!

OK, stand down. I count myself among them.

Today after I had swam laps at the pool and was lounging around reading some wacky business/self-help book, another swimmer showed up. He walked into the pool area with only a Speedo on, flip flops on his feet, and a set of keys in his hand. I said "Hi," he stretched for a few minutes, and then swam away.

I made these.

Me again?

Two days in a row! Before you know it, I'll be as prolific as flakymn Wendi. (Love the daily blogging, Wendi.)

Yesterday the Lord was speaking to me BIG time about waiting. When I try to express what I learned, it doesn't sound as profound as it feels in my heart, but I'll give it a go.

I am doing a Motherwise Bible study that has been an amazing spiritual journey for me (more like a summer vacation). Very little of it up to this point has even been about mothering. Now we're getting into the nitty-gritty of that part of the study.

The Bible, let's face it, is mostly filled with male heroes. Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Samson, Samuel, John the Baptist, the disciples, Saul/Paul, etc. What do all these men have in common? They have mothers! What do the first 6 have in common? Their mothers were barrren/infertile for a time. Some for a long time (90 years!) some for a shorter time, but all of these mothers - and these are some Major Mommas - experienced the grief and loneliness of infertility. Sisters, I can relate!

Before I go on, I am not saying that these women were more deserving of experiencing conception and childbirth because they had to wait for God's will to be revealed. I am not saying that if you have waited for motherhood for a long time, that you will love your child more, or that your child will go on to live a raging success story.

So, after pointing out that there was so much infertility in the Bible that resulted in the births of such great men who, had they been born at an earlier or different time, would not have been in the position to fulfill their godly purposes, the author of this study shared her story. (Her name is Denise Glenn.)

After a few years of IF (don't know how many), Mrs. Glenn surrendered her desire for children to the Lord, and asked that His will be revealed even if His will was that she would not ever be a mother. Two months later she conceived her first child and went on to have three daughters. Praise God!

I can just hear you, and I had the same reaction, "Oh, yeah. That's the way it ALWAYS happens. Surrender your desires and immediately receive them. Maybe I haven't really surrendered, then? I thought I had, but I'm still childless/single/depressed/fill in the blank." (Can I get an Amen?) I had to sincerely pray at that point that God would allow me to see her beautiful story through His eyes, and not my childless ones. My flesh cried out, "Must be nice!" but my spirit calmly said, "Wait." Back to the study I went, and He delivered. God does answer prayers in His perfect, faultless will and timing. I got what I came for - a better understanding of how God works.

Back to one of my favorite quotes of Jesus: "What is that to you? You must follow me." This is in the book of John at the end of chapter 21 (last chapter). Jesus had been talking about the fate of Peter, his disciple, and how Peter would be of service to Jesus. So Peter, and I have to say I am kind of like this impulsive guy, compares himself to John and wants to know what John's future will look like!

A woman might experience infertility for a time, then surrender her desire to God, immediately to conceive and go on to have many children. That is her story. Another woman might sincerely surrender her desire to God and go on to experience infertility indefinitely after. That is her story. (Infertility is my difficulty of choice here, but you can fill in your own!) Because I am still waiting does not allow me to undo or discredit someone else's story. Jesus says to me, "What's it to you? You follow me."

I have my own story. I haven't read the part yet where God answers my prayer for a child through adoption. But, if I have to wait indefinitely for that prayer to be answered, then I say, "Yes, Lord." Our child(ren) will have a very special and unique purpose on earth and in God's kingdom. Who am I to put my plan over God's? Who am I to say, "Lord, I don't like MY story. Can't I have hers? Even if I'm good?"

John 21:23 says this: Jesus said to him, "If I will that he remain till I come, what is that to you? You follow me."

If I may paraphrase: Jesus said to her, "If I will that she has children and you do not, what is that to you? You follow me."

Yes, Lord.

Current adoption thoughts

This is a really weird place to be. When we first thought about waiting, we both had this feeling that we would be one of those couples who don't wait very long. Don't get me wrong, it has been less than 2 months and I don't consider that to be "very long," but sometimes couples are matched within days of having their profile "in the book!" Yes, yes, I know, we probably wouldn't want that because we wouldn't have time to get ready, and this, and that, but, after over 3 years of wanting, wanting, we're ready. But we're not really! Who could be?

So, now I've settled into the idea that we won't be matched for awhile. That's okay. God knows exactly who our baby will be, and s/he may or may not be conceived. I can't pray that we will meet our baby "soon" because God's will is not likely timing but content. For example, God's will is not for us to have A baby in August, but to have our Baby who happens to be born in, say, December. We are told to wait for God's timing because that is where we get impatient. No one I know says, "I don't want God's will." Most do. However, I personally seldom really mean, "I want God's will" but "I want God's will NOW." Errrrrt - Nope. Homey don't play dat.

Alas, we wait, twiddling our thumbs. Every time I get discouraged, I think about going to the movies whenever I want (and then go there), sleeping through the night every night, and spending one-on-one time with my dear husband. I get my baby fix and then come home to do whatever I want yet again. Yes, it is a selfish life, but I am enjoying myself.

I have had three plus years to fantasize about what it will be like to be a parent. I think I have a realistic picture of what it will be like, but I know that the experience of it will be another thing entirely. Sigh - I'll let you know what I think when that finally happens.

Isn't this neat?

Imperial War Museum, London, England, as seen through the eyes of a rose.

MY Jennifer

I had to put "my" in all caps so as to distinguish MY Jennifer from My Jennifer (Ps birthmom).

MY Jennifer is a marvelous friend. I got her through Karen-Bob who was (and is) Jennifer's RCPF (Resident Close Personal Friend) and who is still her CPF. They don't know that I added Resident to their title, so don't tell them!

Anyway, I am having dinner with MY Jennifer tonight. We haven't hung out together in a million years!

Jennifer has been a counselor to me in numerous situations, from the Big-D, to cat discipline problems, to marriage. She was my accountability partner when Randy and I were dating. She was the MOH at our wedding and looked absolutely stunning in her red floral dress that Diane patiently directed us to find as we joked enlessly about, "What about this?" holding up PJs and bathing suits as possibly MOH clothes. (OK, fine, MOH is Maid of Honor.)

MY Jennifer has 3 children and they are very well-behaved (now Jennifer, don't laugh, it's not nice) and gorgeous, even if you can't tell which of the girls answers the phone. K is a boy, so he is easy to distinguish, AND he is grown-up enough to have his own pad, man. (Really, Fur, quit laughing!)

Lately, Jennifer wrote us a letter of recommendation for our adoption, and this is the ultimate gift a friend could give. Everybody needs a Jennifer. Who's yours?

The phone is not my friend.

Waiting (wading) in the pool can be frustrating. Take, for example, the telephone. Telemarketers and others don't only call on OUT OF AREA numbers and 1-866-numbers. Those numbers on my caller ID tell me, "Don't answer that!" When I see what looks like a legitimate area code, however, "What if it's an expectant mother? Better answer it."

I'm too nice - I don't want to hang up on the person, so I get roped into trying to get out of whatever they're selling calmly and politely. Maybe next time I'll yell, "My husband and I are waiting for a phone call that will make us parents. We've been waiting for a long time to have a baby and you are RUINING my day every time you call with your mystery area code. So, buzz off!"

Maybe I won't - or maybe I will...

I'm Still Me

by Betty Lifton

This is a novel that is rocking my world right now.

I am thinking back to a Me when I was 16 - the age of the story's heroine. This heroine (Lori) is struggling with piecing together her identity as an adopted person with no information on her birth parents. It makes me want to cry, how her fantasies of what her "real parents" (ouch) were like seem to overtake her world and negate her life story with her adoptive parents, and, conversely, how not having any information about her biological parents negates her life story as a part of her birth parents. This book is a testimony to open adoption, from my point of view, although the purpose of the book seems to be to chronicle the adoption experience from the perspective of the adopted person.

Sometimes I think that, out of fear and feelings of inadequacy, hearing another person's perspective on an issue (e.g. adoption) makes me feel defensive about my own experience. I need to let this person tell her story from her perspective without considering mine. It's her experience, and she feels it like she feels it. I don't get to say, "You're wrong - adoptive parents are not like that" just because I am not like that. Her adoptive parents were. It's her story and I am the spectator. (I have not gotten to hear the adoptive parents perspectives yet in this story.) (And, by the way, I learned how to punctuate parenthetical sentences last week.)

So who was I at 16? A mess, as I remember it. I turned 16 officially 20 years and one day ago. I remember my birthday - going to swim practice at an ungodly hour, going with my dad to get my driver's licence, driving around all day and then taking my friends Johnna, Sue, Sandy, and Jenni out to dinner at Aunt Maude's in Ames, Iowa. I wore a white skirt and a blue and white flecked sweater. I think I even still have the earrings I wore. Looking back, I obviously remember a lot of details. Not only what I was wearing, but how the weather and the summer felt, how I was probably romanticizing about boys, making out, and falling in love. (This book is bringing back all of these weird memories. To my loving husband, I don't usually sit around pondering these memories, and I promise to return the book on Monday!)

I'm still me. The actors and the scenes have changed, but I am the same, somewhere deep down. I was not adopted, so the Me I was then was the whole picture up until that point. My picture is different now, but I'm Still Me. I can see how, regardless of how wonderful a person's adoptive parents are or are not, that missing that information is like missing your basic self - how your body will age, what kinds of illnesses you might be prone to, and even what kinds of prenatal experiences you had. Who gave you birth and why your adoptive parents are raising you. As I said, I wasn't adopted, so I'm surely leaving out some important elements here, so please forgive my limited perspective (as mentioned in paragraph 3).

At 16 I surely wouldn't have conceived that this is how my life would be now (funny choice of word - conceived). Being previously divorced, childless, and infertile was not the romantic picture that a 16-year-old would have painted - not this one, at least. But I'm still me. I wouldn't have pictured myself at 36 as an overeducated hausfrau sitting around blogging on her laptop computer, reading youth fiction that was written before I even was 16, about a young woman who was adopted, as I wait for a mother to choose me to raise her baby and to trust that I will always maintain contact with her for our child's sake and my own. But, I'm still me.

Read this book. If you are a prospective adoptive parent, be prepared to read a lot about "real parents" or "natural mother," and be prepared to feel somewhat like you are being portrayed as an ignorant couple trying to cover up your child's past. If you are an adopted person who has really never thought much about your past (is that really possible?) be prepared for some wild fantasies you may never have considered. If you are a birth parent, you'll be a part of those fantasies, good, bad, or bizarre. I know you are not a space alien, rest assured.

The question remains - when we have a baby and I have been up endless nights in a row caring for her or him, will you think that I was taken over by a crazy person? If so, just remember - it's me, Amy T.

Yep - it's my birthday.

I just received the neatest happy birthday messages on my answering machine. "Who still uses an answering machine," you might ask? We do!

I'm 36. I'm psyched. I love 36 - it is rockin' so far. I swam laps and did handstands at the pool, ate lunch and painted pottery with my dear friend Stacia, got a pedicure (red, please), went to the chiropractor, and soon will be heading out to dinner with my loving husband who I am sure got me a smashing gift for my big day.

Why am I so excited about 36? Because it is not 35! Thirty-five is the cursed age for women who would love to have a baby. It's classified as "Advanced Maternal Age." Well, I was, but now I'm not. I am no longer 35, so I am no longer AMA, IMHO. It's liberating.

No adoption news. We've been officially in the pool for one month. Time keeps flowing by and we're going with the flow.

Here comes my present - gotta go!

Bor-ing, bor-ing

Sorry about my unblog these days, fellas! (Unblog - got that from Thelma).

I am working with 5-year-olds at vacation bible school (VBS) this week. Yesterday there was a recreation station where we painted a large "castle" made of wood. The kids didn't have much time. So, today we went back for some more castle-painting but there was no paint. The kids were starting to wander around, so I told them they had to wait. Several of them started chanting, "Bor-ing, bor-ing," (roll eyes). Five-year-olds. Sheesh.

Yesterday a friend was working with 4-year-olds. One of them coughed and my friend said, "You need to cover your mouth when you cough." The little girl said, "Maybe you could move out of the way when I cough!" Um, excuse me? Seriously, 4-year-olds? Sheesh.

But, it has had its moments of fun. It is fun to see my girlfriends every day.

Sorry about this post. Bor-ing, bor-ing. ;o)

I've heard of babywearing...

...but this is ridiculous! Thanks for the over-the-shoulder-baby-holder, Tiff!

Proverbs 31

Why isn't the following included in the description of the Proverbs 31 woman?

She drowns the bug with poison and sweeps it up in the dustpan.

I'm just sayin'.

Same blog, new title

That's a big title, ain't it? I thought this one was more descriptive of our experience. Lately I have been venturing out into the Wild Mommy Kingdom, and even though I'm not pregnant, we're still expecting! We have no way of knowing how long it will be. Absolutely none. People keep asking me, "Do they give you any sense of a time frame?" That depends on what you mean by a time frame! When the pest control guy says he'll be there sometime between 12:00 and 2:00, that's a time frame. When he says, "I'll get there tomorrow or maybe next year," that's still a time frame! So our time frame is anywhere between tonight and 2008. How about that?

24 hours seems pretty quick, and 2 years seems like forever. So we wait and have faith that the mother of our child will just know we're the ones, and that we will be placed with the baby who God would have for us. It does happen, right, Beth?

Hang with me. In the words of pseudo-crunchy Christine, this just might be interesting.

Next stop - planet earth.

There is something about infertility that makes you feel like you are hovering in space, watching friend by friend go by beneath you with their carseat (or two, or three) in the back seat.

I believe that I have been blessed with being able to maintain important friendships in my life, even when those friends have mostly gone on to conceive and give birth to their child(ren). Thanks, friends! I know it has not been an easy road for me, nor has it been an easy road for those who have seen me flounder and struggle with infertility and have to temper their glorious news of pregnancies and births in order to tell me. I can appreciate how difficult that must be.

However, when it comes to making new friendships, I have definitely shied away from women who are pregnant or have small children. This is especially true if they have ever said something insensitive, even without meaning to, about infertility. Something like, "It's in the water," or "This time next year I'll be pregnant." To an infertile woman, those kind of comments seem to trivialize the amazing gift of pregnancy and children.

I get it. People are bonding with others with those comments. For someone who has never seen infertility up close and personal, it's never even a consideration that something so seemingly innocent would be taken so personally by someone like me. And I've even had a lot of practice with such comments. I must always consider how to respond with grace, and remember not to roll my eyes and say, "Dude. You don't even know."

I lost my metaphor, didn't I?

So, I guess now I'm back to earth driving my car with the carseat base in it. No carseat yet, but I'm drivin'. I think I'll drive right out of this metaphor, because now I'm really stretching it.

All that to say, today I made a connection. I decided to put my old inferiority complex aside and play with the other moms. It was a time of celebrating, healing, and re-connecting with old friends. There is something very isolating about infertility. Not only is it difficult for me to be around a group of ladies swapping pregnancy or baby stories, but I am sure sometimes it is difficult for my mom friends to be around me. I've been a good girl, but nobody sane who has been exposed to infertility has not been affected by it. That goes for Fertile Myrtles as well as, and these are not my words but I have read them online, "Those infertiles." Grr. Have a heart, will ya'?

Today I was reminded that no matter how our children come to us, we are their parents. Our job is to raise them right, and as Christians, to raise them to know the Lord. They get to make their own decisions, of course, but we give them to God and let 'em fly. Whether we are fertile or IF, we are equals in the parenting game. It was so nice to see all of the friendly faces at my new Motherwise Bible study. Praise God. (And thanks, DVNG).

Okay, class.

If you don't want to hear about Jesus, step away from the blog! Here it comes, friends.

I was a wreck last Sunday morning at church! By the time the sermon started, I was fine, but I was practically bawling during the music after the greeting. I was so overwhelmed with joy and sorrow at the same time. I was thinking about how I feel so much joy for our soon-to-be adoption, but that the way has been paved with a lot of pain. The song was so pretty, and all about how Jesus died for us, and was so moving to me. I can't even remember how it went because I was so into it.

Then, I started thinking about all of the pain that I have seen in the past month, and how lost people are without Christ. Hurt, lonely, hopeless, afraid. A neighbor committed suicide last month, and another down the street (we live in a cul-de-sac) died of cancer last weekend. Did they die without knowing the salvation of Jesus Christ? I think they did. How do I process this?

I have also become even more acutely aware of the pain and sorrow surrounding pregnancy and childbirth among my peers who have suffered infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth, and loss of children through adoption. It was breaking my heart on Sunday! I wasn't even feeling sad for us, having gone through over 3 years of infertility, surgeries, tests, treatments, failed cycles, and dashed hopes. How could I feel this pain without the penetrating glory and joy of Jesus and His sacrifice for ME and for YOU! And I want you to know what He's done. I don't know how we would have gotten through the past few years without Christ. I haven't always been this way, but I was blind and now I see (can I get a witness!?!) ;o)

THEN, later in the service our music minister sang, and I totally lost it again. He wrote one of our letters of recommendation for our adoption, and it just reminded me how blessed we are with our church family. I did not have any tissues, and then DH started tearing up, and I'm sure everyone in the choir AND the choir director saw me crying like a baby. I had to use my hands to wipe away tears and tear-related facial fluids. I seriously almost used my shirt. Then I started laughing (not out loud), but it was one of those crazy, belly laughs you get sometimes. I was afraid someone was going to come down out of the choir loft and give me a sedative. I'm surprised I didn't snort.

This isn't meant to be depressing. I just really felt like God spoke to me in church last Sunday about how much pain there is in the world but that Jesus came so that we would know peace instead. Also, that it is my job to spread the gospel so that others would have the same hope as I do. I am shy about talking to others about Christ - I really wish that I weren't. Maybe experiences like Sunday's will add up to make me more outspoken about what our Lord has done for us.

If you didn't walk away, and you have questions, let me know! I tell you, I was not always this way - I was 26 when I accepted Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. It is never too late, and He wants to have you.

Love,
Amy

Dear Baby

We have a baby. No, we have not been chosen by an expectant mother yet, but in February of 2004 our baby Noah went to Jesus. It was so long ago, and the miscarriage happened so quickly after I found out I was pregnant (1 week later), that it hardly seems real. In a way this is a blessing, because my heart is whole and healthy, but it also feels uncomfortable to be so estranged from a baby knit together by God in my womb.

We had been trying to get pregnant for 10 months, and it felt like forever! Ten months back then felt longer to me than 3 years does now. Those 10 months were the hardest months of my infertility journey. I had not yet incorporated this new experience of infertility (IF) into my identity. Now, it is such a part of who I am that it is familiar to me, and I can see it and wave hello to that part of my heart, but then it felt like a huge, scary, monster with a wide, gaping mouth coming to devour me and nobody else. Words can't express - they are just incapable.

So, it was a Friday and I picked up an HPT (home pregnancy test) on my way home from school. I had just started graduate school the day after I must have conceived! It was faint, but clearly positive. I told R that day, and we were so excited, but yet cautious. I had some spotting that night, but it stopped quickly. That was scary.

A few days later I took another test, waiting to see a darker test line proving that the pregnancy was progressing. The line was still there but just as faint. I went for a blood test the next day.

"The test is borderline," the nurse said.

I can't express my panic and heartbreak at that moment. What did that mean? I went back for another test two days later and finally I got some details. I was, in fact, pregnant, but the pregnancy hormone (HCG) was decreasing and there was no way the baby would make it. Looking back, I can't tell you how invalidated I felt when the nurse said "It's borderline." How dehumanizing!

I received the second test results on a Friday on my way home from class. The nurse who I spoke with was so nice and validating. I wish I knew who it was so I could have thanked her. She told me I could expect to experience the physical miscarriage within 2-4 weeks. What? My baby is dead and I have to wait weeks for her to pass? But, God is merciful. It was over by the next morning. I went to brunch with a friend, to feel connected, you know, and then got a pedicure. I picked a red color, but couldn't stand the thought off looking at blood red toes for weeks. I changed to purple. I'm so glad.

I wrote a letter to baby Noah while I was waiting for the results of the second test. Here it is. It is not edited.

***
Dear Baby,

God and I love you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Your Daddy and I want you and love you so much.

The nurse says that you might not be real - that you might be something other than God knows you are - a person. I don't believe her, but I really don't know what to think. Only Jesus knows. See, it goes to show that God knows us and loves us more than anyone.

I imagine you to be bright and precious. You will have blue eyes like us. You will smell sweet and have a fuzzy head with a soft spot that we will kiss. I will rock you and sing to you. We will play and smile at each other.

I have barely had a drop of caffeine since I found out about you. I've hardly had any sleep, either b/ I have been too excited. I've mostly stayed away from sugar, too. I try not to push myself too hard at the gym, either, so you won't get too tired. You are just an embryo still, but you need to learn to pace yourself. So far, what is your favorite thing to eat? It's too early for me to tell.

I love you, Baby. I give you to God, Baby. Here is Your new child, Lord. I pray that you would let me be Baby's mommy on earth for a long, long time. I accept Your will, Lord. Amen.

***
We have a baby. I'm so thankful. It doesn't make sense, not to some, but I still trust the Lord. How can I not? He has been so faithful to us.

If you do not know the peace of Jesus, please let me share with you.

Love,
Amy

My first skipped heartbeat

!

I know it is so early, and we are barely in the book, but I had my first racing pulse this afternoon as a phone call came in. We had just gotten home from church, and the phone rang. The caller ID just said, "ringing," which has happened more and more recently. The phone rarely rings on Sundays, for some reason, but a neighbor had called earlier.

Anyway, I answered the phone, "Hello?" (Uh, how else would I answer? "Yyyyello?!?")

An unfamiliar female voice said, "Is this Amy Standridge?"

Me: "Yes?"

Don't do that to me! (Lol) It was someone I talked to last week about ABF (adoptive breastfeeding), calling back with some information.

In any case, my heart was racing. I guess I'll get used to it? OK, when?

Dumb-dumb

Uh...HELLO!?! I am taking my Texas teaching certification exams tomorrow and I am supposed to be studying. I haven't opened a book! I have 2x4 hour exams. Yes, you read that right, one exam for four hours, then another exam for four hours. FUN WEEKEND!

I got my diploma in the mail today. My postal carrier put it under the doorstep and left a note that it was there. Later he came back to make sure I got it. What a cool carrier! So, if I fail my exams tomorrow, at least I will take comfort in the fact that our postal carrier is a really, really nice man.

Scotland

1. The Prince and Princess of Stirling castle.
2. Scottish tartan torture (there's a girl under there!)

We're in!

Homestudy complete. Although we had finished all the steps before our trip, the homestudy is not officially complete until our profile is in the book that the expectant mothers look through in order to choose the prospective adoptive parents.

I learned that the term birthmother is more accurate when a woman has placed their baby for adoption. Before placement, the woman is just the mother, or expectant mother. I can't remember where I read this. Makes sense, though.

Anyway, at least one couple who we have met in the last few months has already been placed with their SON! I mean, he is home and everything. So, this can happen very quickly. There really is no way to know how long it might take.

I think it will take awhile before every ring of the phone doesn't send me into heart palpitations. Will the mother like me? Will I cry or act like a dork? Will I snort when I laugh or let out a loud, unexpected belch? I changed out answering maching message today to make it sound more warm and welcoming. Punky was meowing in the background so I had to lock him in the bedroom lest he sound like a baby crying in the background of my warm, welcoming message. "Be yourself." I know, I know, DON'T say it. I'll be myself, I promise.

I start work again tomorrow, if you call 2.5 hours a week "work." It'll be good. If you would like to know more about music therapy, check out the AMTA link at the right. It's a fun gig. I'll have to make up an invoice and figure out what to charge. It's my first time out as a completely independent service provider. One MILLion dollars?

Home sweet home

We are so glad to be back! We had the best trip (oh, pardon me, I mean "holiday"). We saw castles and museums, and friends, and double-decker buses. We ate haggis and Indian food, and tea for two. And after it all, we're still in love. Bonus!

We came home to Texas heat and a very needy kitty. He has just started to settle down.

I am pretending that my body really does think it is 9:20 a.m. and not 3:p.m., and that I really do not desperately feel like eating cheetos and a diet pepsi. Morning food, morning food...


1. When rain meets sun in Edinburgh, Scotland.


2. Amy having a latte at the foot of Hollyrood Park, Edinburgh.


3. The York Minster, York, England.


4. Changing of the the guard, London, England.

OK, the gig's up

We're in London!

We visited Scotland for several days, then went on to York, and now we're in London, baby!

Scotland was warm (not literally) and wonderful as usual. It was great fun revisiting the places I lived and hung out when I spent a semester at the University of Edinburgh in 1990. Our guest house was a block away from the hall (or dorm) where I lived - Pollock Halls. I couldn't remember which "house" I was in, (Turner House?) but we walked all through the grounds. Pictures to come.

Next stop York, England by train. York is a quaint old English town with lots of history, and our highlight there for me was tea for two at Betty's tea room! There was an old piano player there who looked around the room as he played by memory, and he played some great songs. Randy thought he looked like his dad, but I thought he looked like me when he played - with his chin kind of tucked in and a bright look in his eyes.

We've been in London for 2 days. Yesterday we did the very British thing of watching X-Men at the cinema. We were definitely needing a break! We then had ice cream and walked and took the tube (subway) home. Tomorrow we are meeting my friend from Tejas, Diane, and her parents to go to a show. We are trying to go to The Producers tonight, and then may see a matinee tomorrow with our American friends.

Today is a Big Bus tour of London. Yesterday we walked by Big Ben and Parliament. Our hotel is not far from Buckingham Palace!

Just a quick update, blog friends.

Thank you for visiting my wee bloggie (winks to Thelma).

See you soon!

P.S. Thanks to all of our new friends and neighbors watching the house and Punky-cat!