Monthly Archives: February 2007

Bits of Treasure for Monday

Good Morning, N!

I’ve been having a typical Monday morning here.  Struggling with “mommy guilt” of dropping the Woob off at daycare, still steamed at a co-worker from last week (so much for church yesterday–I’m holding on to this grudge awhile longer, it seems!), and running blind from one meeting to the next.

So, I get in my car to go to the first meeting and immediately upon searching my purse for my key, my crappy mood lifts.  There’s “treasure” from yesterday in there that I forgot to take out:

  • 2 slobberdy bibs (“Thank Heaven for Little Boys” and “Daddy’s Little Helper”)
  • 2 board books:  Sesame Street’s “Baby Natasha’s Busy Day” and “Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed”
  • 1 soft cloth book with bold pictures and primary colors.  There are pictures of a boat, train, dog, apple, ball, flower, house, and cat
  • the little red car he swiped from my mom’s house
  • and one orange rubber turtule bath toy.

I hope you find some unexpected “treasure” to lighten your day as well!



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Filed under adoption, things that make me smile

Temptations in the Desert

Good Sunday Morning, N!

Just home from church, and lunch with the family.  Each Sunday on the drive home from Bob Evans, the little Guy just konks right out.  Church is way exciting for him with all the people and music.  He just basks in all the attention he gets from everyone—napping in church is just out of the question where he’s concerned.

This morning’s reading and sermon were about the temptation in the desert.  I don’t know if you go to church or even Believe, but as many things do, the story made me think of you, of us.

In the story, Christ went into the wilderness to reflect for forty days and nights.  He needed solitude to heal from the things that he was feeling—fragile, broken and alienated from God.  Along comes ol’ Satan and says, “do this and you’ll be happy, why put yourself through all this hard stuff?”

I started thinking of my own temptations, of how it would be so much easier to just forget about it, conclude that you’ve made your choices, and will need to live with them.  Those choices shouldn’t have to effect me.  That I should just move on.  It would be so much easier to NOT think about what you’re feeling every day, look for a letter in the mail every evening, think that maybe, just maybe, if I leave the right “nudge” in a letter that you might respond.

But then I thought to myself, “perhaps I should be more patient, maybe N needs more time alone to heal and think about all the hard stuff before she’s ready to face it, especially knowing that what’s to come might even be harder.”

I guess I shouldn’t pretend to know that these are your feelings, I can only guess…until the time when you might choose to tell me what those feelings have been.  I just need to trust that you’re taking your “forty days” so that if or when you’re ready, you’ll be truly ready, not just because somebody’s telling you you have to, you need to.  I have to trust that YOU know what’s best for you.  As for me, maybe I’ll take some time to reflect on what is to come as well.

Wishing you blessings today.


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Filed under adoption, birthparents, faith, reflection


Hi, N-

I’ve been doing tons of reading from the viewpoint of other families involved in adoption, especially mothers who have made adoption plans for their children.  I want to know, through their voices, who you might be, what you might be thinking, what you might say to ME someday.  As I read, I’ve come to a conclusion that I hadn’t given much thought to before:  semantics are HUGE in something as complicated as adoption. 

Words are used to create a context for everyone (“birthmother,” “adoptee,” “adoptive parent, “real,” or “natural”); that context becomes a title.  Add a little emotion, and you can darn well bet that people get are gonna get touchy where titles are concerned. 

I’ve titled this blog to you “Letters to a Birthmother,” certainly not to offend, but to HONOR one major role you’ve got in little Roo’s life.     My God, you gave BIRTH to him, surely with all the blood, sweat and tears that go along with it.  The fear.  Maybe a little anger in there, and honestly other emotions I have no right to wonder about or imagine.  You gave BIRTH to him.  There is no other person in the world who can say the same thing about that little boy.  There is not a thing anyone can do to take that moment in time away from you.  You are his Mother.




Filed under adoption, birthparents, semantics

Confessions–What Our Family is REALLY Like


You know us through some short visits and convsersations, and a few pieces of paper (some written specifically to please the agency and what THEY felt we should say). Heck, they even changed some of the words in our original letter to you without our knowledge… Pre-adoptive parents are well-trained to talk about the things they think you want to hear–college education, big family, security, strong marriage… And while we have all of those things, you’ve got to know some other things about us to be truly fair and know the life your son is living.  All that crap we adoptive parents hear from time to time about how we must be truly special people to adopt a child and save them from the life they would have had…bleck…its just crap.  So the first thing you need to know about us is this…we aren’t SPECIAL.  Actually, we’re kind of self-centered and were so hungry for a baby that we were all-consumed by it.  So consumed that in the beginning, you got lost in it all–sorry.  What I try to let people know when they start talking like that is that we didn’t SAVE this little guy from anything.  We know full well that you have every capability to have raised this baby with love and give him the things he needed…somehow you made a choice that allowed us to do that as well.  We just got the benefit of that choice.

Other confessions…

  • Housekeeping and laundry are NOT our strong points.  Please don’t imagine us living in a perfect house that is spotless and beautifully furnished.  We have spots on the sofas from pets and the baby, and will not be getting any new furniture anytime soon.
  • We are not great money managers/savers.  Sometimes I screw up the checkbook and have to have B. bail me out with his “secret money stash” thats not so secret.  He hoards money to buy video games.  I couldn’t hoard money if I tried. 
  • We watch WAAYY too much television, and not usually the educational channels.  We’ll occasionally watch a nature show, but really only because its broadcast in HD and looks pretty.
  • Our diet is not that healthy day to day.  We love fast food, soft drink, and dessert.  (It is 9:30 a.m. and I am sitting at my desk with jelly beans and a Coke–’nuff said).  I don’t exercise, nor am I athletic in any way.  The only reason B. is not totally huge is because he has some freakish, insane metabolism.
  • Our families can sometimes be a mess. 
  • B. and I don’t always like each other or agree on things  (But don’t worry, we love each other terribly as well!!)

All this to say–we’re normal and real–there’s no ivory tower here.  Please don’t feel you need to stay away for fear you’ll wreck our perfect life…we simply live day to day and pretty much enjoy our lives and take things as things come.  Fact is, we’re scared if you know all these things about us, you might overlook all the great things we’ve got going as well.  It’s funny, because all those things we know about ourselves help us to focus better energy and habits into the Woobie.  Even if WE don’t do things the way we’re supposed to for ourselves, we do it for him.  He has a well-balanced diet, structure, a savings account, lots of time spent with books and clean sheets in the crib. 

He will have the knowledge that love doesn’t have to be perfect to still be true.

Enjoy the warming weather–hope to hear from you soon.



Filed under adoption, birthparents

An anniversary

Dearest N-

Yesterday was the anniversary of the day we found out you chose us to parent that precious child you had carried in your womb for the past 8 months.  On that day, we went through so many emotions…relief, as we had been so breathless with anticipation for a week after speaking to you and hearing nothing, excitement, and the ever so slightest bit of doubt that this might not be true.  I spoke to Terre, so sweet and encouraging, unlike others from the agency (I hope they were at least good to you!), and she told me the details she knew, and I wrote every single thing down, afraid to miss even the slightest thing…still have the little slips of paper.  She said you were small, cute as a button, and independent–not afraid to tell your parents to back off when you needed to.  She told me your boyfriend was so sweet and supportive.  She told me you were expecting a boy and that you and baby were healthy.  She told me to buy a carseat and be ready for anything in the next few weeks.  What a leap of faith on both sides…I think you had so much more to risk placing your faith with someone to raise your first born child, than we had to risk by possibly losing a child we had never even met…

Its hard for us to know what it was about us that led you to choose us, to place your faith in us, to entrust us with this little life.  We never spoke about how or why you made that choice.  We can only guess, by the questions you asked us when we first spoke, from the things we learned about you and your family during our time spent in the hospital.  Someday I would love to know what exactly it was.  Whatever it was, I pray that we live up to the expectation that you have for us. 

Hoping you’re staying warm this winter night.



Filed under adoption