Eight

My son turned eight yesterday.

It was a hard day for reasons that had nothing to do with his birthday--for a few hours, I had to face the scary possibility that I could end up having another baby on the twentieth of February. Fortunately, everything turned out fine, just another pregnancy "adventure."

Needless to say, I didn't spend a whole lot of time yesterday in retrospective contemplation, given the other stuff going on. Still, I find myself thinking more about it today.

Eight years just seems like such a long time. That tiny baby who came into the world is now a young man, getting baptized tomorrow, which I find incredible.

So much has happened in my life. I have changed in so many ways. My world is such a different place. Recently I picked up the journal that I kept during my pregnancy with Ian. I haven't read the whole thing through, but I've read a few entries here and there.  It's been fascinating to recognize again and again just how different my situation is now from how it was then. Not only does it make me incredibly grateful for the wonderful life I have now, but it also reaffirms my certainty that Ian is exactly where he is supposed to be.

I know that adoption is not perfect. It's nobody's first choice. But it was the best choice for me and my son, eight years ago. I am grateful for the experiences that I went through, which have profoundly and eternally changed me. And I am so grateful for Ian--even though we are not very close, I love him dearly and seeing his happiness brings me great joy.  He will always be an important part of my life, no matter the distance.

Happy birthday, kiddo.

Relief

Sunday night my husband and I went to his parents house for dinner. Things had wound down a bit after dinner, and James and I found ourselves in the dining room visiting with his mother. Funny enough we were talking about adoption--we had been talking about genetics, and what the likelihood is of any of our children having blue eyes or red hair, which is harder for me to know, given my incomplete genetic history.

At some point during the conversation, James gave me a LOOK. I knew what he was thinking--I've been waiting for a "good moment" for over a year, and that look said, "this is it!"

Using the excuse of the rowdy dogs in the other room, James got up and closed the dining room door, giving us a little more privacy. Awkwardly, I began. "Since we're talking adoption..." My mother-in-law gets a suspicious look on her face. "There's been something I've wanted to tell you for awhile--"

And without any further prompting, she bursts out, "You had a baby you gave up for adoption, didn't you?"

Relief.

MIL says that she knew, somehow (something that my James claims that she says about all sorts of things, so who knows). But we were able to talk about it for a while. She asked questions. I was able to have a dialogue about it. James talked about meeting Ian this summer. And as we talked, my sense of relief grew and grew.

It's not that I wanted to keep Ian a secret. It's not that I haven't wanted to tell my mother-in-law. But the fear of it has held me back all this time. The longer I waited, the harder it became, actually. I knew that I would need to have this conversation eventually. After all, our children are going to know about Ian. At some point, one of our children would start talking about Ian, and somebody would start asking questions. So much better to already have it out there!

Incidentally, MIL's response was perfect. Asking questions, being interested, and the sincere acceptance. All of it was better than I could have hoped for. What an incredible relief.

Holidays and Adoption

Everyone expects the holidays to become a little more complicated once you get married. "Who will we spend Thanksgiving with? Where will we have Christmas morning?" As a newly-married couple, if both families are close by, it seems generally expected that you split time between his and hers. Once children come along, maybe it changes a little. If family is at a distance, it becomes more challenging. Do you travel, or do you stay home?

You're with me so far, right?

I got a little of this feeling long before I was married. When I reunited with my birthparents in the summer of 2005, my birthfather immediately expressed his eagerness to include me in his family. He, his wife, and their daughters came to celebrate my birthday with me that fall. They sent me care packages at college. And when the holidays rolled around, they invited me to spend Christmas Eve at my birth grandparents' house, which is one of their big family traditions. Fortunately, my [adopted] family didn't really have any Christmas Eve traditions, so I eagerly agreed. I have spent every Christmas Eve since with my birthdad's family.

Then my husband came along.

We were engaged during the holidays last year, and it made for some interesting moments. You see, my husband's family does have Christmas Eve traditions. My husband was a little reluctant to miss out on them. And his family made no allowances for us--coming from a family of 10 children, if somebody has something else going on, then they just miss out.

I was very grateful to my soon-to-be-husband for making that particular sacrifice. Christmas Eve is, most years, the only time of year that I see my birth grandparents. And as I don't see my birthdad & fam nearly as often as I would like, it's an important occasion with them as well. I know that my husband could tell how much it meant to be. And this year, as we were discussing how to spend our holidays, he treated it as a given, that we would spend Christmas Eve with my birth family. Between you and me, the excellent presents we received there last year probably helped!

Adoption complicates life. There can be no denying that. Yet I continue to feel that adoption makes my life a fuller and more richly rewarding experience, for me, and I hope, for my own little family.

Encounters

Today we had an unexpected visit with my birth son and his family. I got an email last evening. They were in town for a family reunion and wanted to know if we could meet up. Fortunately, we were able to find a time to meet! (James and I closed on our house this afternoon! Happy day!)

This was James' first meeting with Ian and his family. I asked him his thoughts, before and after, intensely curious for his reaction. All in all, things were much more laid-back than either of us were expecting.

We met on BYU campus for about an hour. Mostly, we just visited. I held their adorable new baby. Ian wasn't super talkative, but he did tell us his story about pulling his tooth. And that was about it. Very pleasant, albeit brief.

James said to me afterward, after expressing enjoyment for the visit, that he was surprised I didn't spend more of the time focused on Ian. And it's true, I didn't. But I guess I learned a few visits ago to let Ian set the terms. Sometimes when we've seen each other, he's been very talkative, other times very shy. And I am okay with it either way. I have the feeling that there will come a time when Ian and I will have a more personal relationship. Time will tell. Until then (and even then) I enjoy their family as a whole.

All told, I'm just glad we had the opportunity to see them while they were here! What a great day it has been!

Open Adoption Roundtable #48

 

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It’s designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community.
This roundtable prompt was:

Why has or hasn’t openness worked for you?
If you are in a healthy functional open adoption, why do you think it’s working? If it doesn’t work, why do you think it stopped working? Do you think the success or failure was about education and expectations going in? Do you think it was that your personalities matched or clashed? Do you think there is something you do or did during the relationship that kept it going or was there a certain point that it changed the relationship from bad to good? Was it a mixture of all of these things?

I have two adoptions (two and a half, really) to consider when answering questions like this, and I think I would like to address them all.

My birth-family

I have a great, very open relationship with my birth father and his family. My adoption opened when I was 18, and met both of my birth parents. Ever since then, my birth father and his family have included me in all their major life events. We talk frequently, though not as frequently as any of us might like, but that's due to busy lives and distance more than anything else.

My birth mother, on the other hand, has completely closed off. After meeting that one time, she has stopped all communication, and I haven't had any relation with her ever since. I know that she does, very occasionally, talk with my birth father, but that's about it.

In both of these cases, I believe it came down to their attitude regarding my adoption--something that was formed before I was even born. My birth mother "moved on" almost immediately after my birth--got married, started having children, and apparently shut her adoption experience into a dark, tight box that never got opened. Compare this to my birth father, who raised his daughters knowing about me, celebrated my birthday each year, carried a photo of me as a baby in his wallet along with photos of his daughters, and you'll see what I mean. My birth father always wanted to have a relationship with me, and that shows in the relationship that we have today.

My son

This is a little more complex. Before my son was born, his parents and I emailed frequently (almost daily, throughout my pregnancy). We agreed on an open adoption, but we did not specify what all that was going to entail, except that we would figure it out as we went. Looking back, I think a little more specificity would have helped, but I also have to acknowledge that I had no idea at the time what I would need or want six months, a year, five years down the road.

After placing my son, communication immediately dropped off. While I could logically understand--with a new baby in the house, sending daily lengthy emails would be impractical, if not impossible--emotionally, it was very difficult to deal with. And to be perfectly candid, there have been many times in the last seven years when I have craved more from them than I have received.

That said, we do have an open adoption. I can send them an email any time, and (hopefully) receive a response. And if my son or his parents ever needed or wanted to contact me, I would not hesitate to respond.

While it's not perfect, and not exactly what I envisioned when I placed him for adoption, it works. My thoughts on why it grew to be this way? I think part of it is personality, both mine and my son's mother. Part of it is the more general difficulty of maintaining long-distance relationships. There are other factors as well. But it works. While I always want to be there for my son if he has need of me, for the most part, I am content to see pictures of him on Facebook and know that he is well.

Aunt Valerie!

My sister had a baby this weekend.

My sister, who is the daughter of my birthfather and his wife.

I LOVE having a relationship with my birth-family. (My birthfather's side, anyway. My birthmother is still MIA.) I love that I get to meet my nephew and have a relationship with him. I love that I get to be there for my sisters' big life events. I love that I get to know them, and love them.

Open adoption is the best!

Ian's a big brother now

Just thought you should know. =)

I was thinking about it the other day, how complicated adoption can seem. Because Baby B. is not adopted...and there's a bunch of schtuff that goes along with that. But that's what I love so much about my relationship with Ian's family. Jen and I had this conversation months ago--and frankly, I'm pretty content to be "birthmom" to both these little boys, my own flesh and blood, and Jen's own flesh and blood.

Things are pretty quiet on the adoption front. But things are good. All I have to see are pictures of Ian's big grins looking down at Baby B. to know that things are good.

Next I will be Raphael

Today, I Google-chatted with my son's adoptive father (gosh I hate those distinctions...I want to just say "Ian's dad" except when I do that sometimes people think I mean Ian's biological father, and those rare days when I talk to him are always a little strange...suffice it to say that I mean Ian's father).

We talked about Christmas. He asked how mine was. I asked how his was. He told me what Ian's most favorite presents were (and they made me laugh...Ian is an odd child sometimes). I asked Joe what his favorite presents were--it included an extension cord, which is very Joe. He asked me what my favorite presents were, and I told him that I had gotten weapons for Christmas, so I can start taking the weapons class at Taekwondo.

Joe asked me which Ninja Turtle I will be next.

I had to confess that I've never really watched the TMNT so I had no idea. He promptly sent me a picture of the ninja turtles baring their weapons and we consulted over their names. After settling on which weapons I will be studying next, we politely discussed when our next video chat might be and went on our merry ways.

I just have to tell you...I'm glad that Ian has a daddy like Joe. =)

Open Adoption Roundtable #5

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It's designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You can find out more over at Production, Not Reproduction. The new prompt is How has open adoption changed you? In what ways are you different because the presence of open adoption in your life?


As an adoptee myself, adoption has always been an intrinsic part of my life and my self-identity. Growing up, it was a "cool fact" I would share about myself. "I play the piano, I'm adopted, and I like to read." It was just something that was slightly different about me, something that I liked, but didn't really understand.

Since meeting my birth parents, I have changed. The differences in that regard are subtle. However, my relationships with them, and with my birth father's family, have once again affected my self identity. Primarily, I no longer view myself as the child of a nuclear family. While my family hasn't been changed by divorce or remarriage or anything like that, the way I define my family is no longer simple. When asked how many siblings I have, I often have difficulty answer--when I don't just say, one brother and three sisters (my adopted brother, and my birthdad's three other daughters.)

But what's more is my open relationship with my son and his family. That has changed me in more ways than I can even comprehend. Being a birth mother is life-altering. It is impossible to remain the same person you were before. But open adoption has made it possible for that to be a positive and uplifting change.

My very thought processes have changed. Motherhood awoke in my bosom, and though I am not the caregiver of that child, I still have the instincts that strike me at odd moments. And I AM able to care for my child, if not as a mother. I care for him as a birthmother. I care from a distance--I am always there to make sure HE knows that he is the most loved little boy in the world. =)

It's hard for me to put into words. Basically, I am a completely different person than I would be without open adoption. Adoption has blurred the lines of "Family", and it's made me more accepting. My heart didn't break when I placed my son for adoption--it grew, swelled ten times bigger and gave me just that much more room to love. That's what adoption means to me. It means more people to love the child, more love to go around for everyone. It means accepting that things might be awkward at times, that there might be uncertainty, that there might be worries. Open adoptions are not simple, and they are not necessarily easy. But they ARE good. They provide the opportunity for so much love. And now that I have them in my life, I can't imagine living my life any differently.

Open Adoption Roundtable #3

Today, I'm speaking as an adoptee. I speak as a child of an adoption that should be open. An adoption that I wish were open.

The prompt for the roundtable is this: Share your wish list for your open adoption. Talk about the future. Talk about how you wish things were.

I've talked quite a bit about my birth father in these posts. My birth father and I have a great relationship. He always makes me feel loved and wanted. He and his family have completely embraced things. Even when times are tough for one or both of us, I know that he loves me and cares about how I'm doing. He is a great father.

I don't mention my birth mother quite so often. Realistically, there's not that much to say. I have met my birth mother once, the same day I met my birth father the first time. It's been almost four years now. I can count on my fingers the number of times I've heard from her since then, though I've emailed her many times.

Here's my wish list for the future:

I wish my birth mother would open up to me. I wish she would email me. I wish we could meet again. I wish she would tell my siblings that I exist, so that I could start talking to them too. I wish I knew their names. I wish that I could meet them, to discover our similarities and our differences, to find out if we have interests in common, to know if they struggle through things that I could help them with. I just want to know them. My family. My flesh and blood. In the future, I wish this adoption really could be open.

This is a mentality that I have difficulty understanding, though it's fairly common. I can't imagine tucking away the memories of a child given up for adoption, and refusing to process and face those feelings. I mean, I feel like it's rejecting motherhood itself, in a way. Motherhood is to care and love and nuture a child. While the nuturing is limited in an adoption situation, being a birth mother means you still love and care about that child. Doesn't it? That's what it means in my head.

Adopted children have ongoing needs that can only be met by their birth parents. Questions, fears, doubts...there are certain concerns that will always exist within the mind of an adoptee, and those concerns can only be soothed by a birth parent. Responsibility for the child does not end at placement. It is ongoing, whether the adoption is open or not. I wish that more birth parents--including my own--would remember that responsibility, and show that love and care that their children so desperately need.

Video chat rocks my world!

Jen and I have been talking about doing a video chat since before Mother's Day, and (like many things) it just didn't happen, didn't happen. It came up again this week, and then out of the blue, Jen asked me if I wanted to do a video chat--now!

I got to talk to Jen and Ian for over half an hour. It was fantastic! Ian sang me some songs, and I applauded. I asked him about his favorite foods, colors, toys, and animals. It was wonderful just to see his face. We have the same teeth, which I just never noticed before.

Talk about open adoption! This is it, and it is wonderful. I love my son, I love his parents, and I am happy as a clam. What a great evening.

Openness

This afternoon, I had something I wanted to talk to Jen about (this is my son's adoptive mother aka one of the dearest and funniest people I have in my life). I pulled her up on the instant messenger and whipped off a quick "hi!" Now, unfortunately Jen was sick in bed, but fortunately, I got to say hi to Joe and Ian, who were eating "man food" aka PB&J. We didn't talk long, but it was sweet.

It occurred to me later how totally cool open adoption is. Seriously, Jen and I talk all the time on Google Chat. And we email. And I read her blogs (maybe she reads mine, I'm not sure. She's a busy lady). We've even talked about starting up phone calls, though that's likely to be limited, because talking on the phone just isn't my thing.

Open adoption makes life so good. Of course there have to be boundaries. Of course there are limits. But they're set between the birthparents and the adoptive parents and the child, whatever everybody is comfortable with. After that, it's just all good.

I just have to tell you that I think open adoption is the shiz. That's all. =)

Blood calls

I'm pretty tight with my birthdad, which is pretty unusual. When you think of birthfathers, you usually don't think of them in the present. You think of them as some jerk who runs off as soon as he finds out there's a kid. Unless you know a birthfather who DOESN'T conform to that image, anyway.

My b-dad, or my "Pops", has been in my life for about three and a half years now. We found each other the summer before I turned 19 (when I was about 3 months pregnant with my son). I had always intended to seek out my BP (birthparents) when I came of age. This is a lot harder than it sounds--or it usually is, anyway. But when I finally started looking, I found him pretty quickly, because he'd already been looking for me. I think the appropriate term here is "dual registry" although it was nothing official, just the reunion pages on Adoption.com.

Long story short (maybe I'll tell it to you later), we found each other, we confirmed that we were in fact who we thought we were, and later that summer, we met. My b-mom was out for Education Week at Brigham Young University, so I was able to meet her as well as my b-dad's wife and three other daughters. And, as he likes to say, I haven't been able to get rid of them since.

It's interesting all the things we have in common. Music. Food. Food we don't like. Books. Movies. Not to mention physical features.

On the flip side, I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard from my b-mom since our meeting three and a half years ago. She also has kids, who don't know I exist. I don't know their names, or anything about them. Contact is minimal where it occurs at all.

Most of the time, I just shrug it away. Yeah, it bothers me, but it's not my choice to make, and there's nothing I can really do about it. But there are times when I wonder what I'm missing, what they're missing.

Not all adoption stories have happy endings. But I'll tell you--I think the happier ones come from open adoptions. But that's another blog. =)


L to R: Samantha, Danielle, Valerie, Cydney Jo