Tuesday, January 26, 2010

You'll be a great mom

Recently I've been thinking about the above statement. I've heard it. A LOT. I've been thinking of some of the insensitive things people have said over the years as we've struggled with infertility, and for me, this one bothered me the least. It implies that we should remain hopeful, but when said it doesn't actually say "oh, just wait, you're time will come."

"You'll be a great mom." What does that really mean and why do people say it all the time? I know I'm just as guilty. I say it to people and I say it about people. I have friends who are recently married and I know when they choose to start their family, they will be good parents. I have single friends and I know they would be good parents. But when I say that, what am I really saying. When someone says it, what do they mean? What do I mean? Well, basically I guess I mean "I believe you won't starve or beat your children and they will grow in a loving home."

As it's been said over and over since we married, I have never doubted those people. I think I'll be a good mom. I know I'll do my best to raise my child with love. I'll give them a good home to live in and try to surround them with what is good.

But when your birth mom tells you she thinks you'll be a good mom, those words take on a completely new meaning. When she says it, she means it from the bottom of her heart. A birth mom chooses you because she believes that you will be good parents to the child she loves. That act on her part also makes her a good mom. Adoption is all about being good moms (and dads).

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Adoption thoughts to the undwed mother

Why is it that when people talk about adoption, they do so like it's a loveless act? Considering adoption DOES NOT mean the mother doesn't loves her child. Considering adoption DOES NOT mean the mother is trying to find a quick fix to her situation.

Birth mom's aren't cool, they are AMAZING. The love a birth mom has for her child is a greater love then anyone can ever understand.

I have yet to meet a birth mom who says they placed their child because they didn't want to raise it themselves. More than anything in the world, a birth mom WANTS to raise their baby on their own. If it was just about them, they would. But when they learn they are pregnant, its no longer about just them, it's about the child they carry. The child they LOVE.

This month I seem to be even more passionate about adoption. Maybe it's because we have our own birth mom now, so any assault on adoption feels like a direct attack on my family. Why can't adoption be portrayed more positively in the media? And I don't just mean Hollywood. Movies get it wrong all the time, but so do books, magazines and newspapers. I read an article this week that has spurned all this anger. And yet, I know I shouldn't be this mad. It's not the person's fault that they are uneducated. It's not their fault they can't see adoption as the loving decision that it really is.

If I could talk to these people, this is what I would say.

Adoption is beautiful. Adoption is not about making a problem disappear. A birth mom does not place her child and then walk away and forget that child. They never stop loving that child. Adoption is about trying to take an ugly thing and turning it into something beautiful. As a single, unwed expectant mother, you probably never expected to find yourself pregnant and alone. Already that child is loved and depending on you. You don't make an adoption plan because you don't want the child. By making an adoption plan you show that you are a good mother because you are doing the best you can to give your child the best in life. Adoption isn't really about you. Adoption really isn't about me. Its about the child.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Josh's Wisdom Teeth

Never before did I think I would be willing to pay someone hundreds of dollars to do a surgery on a Saturday, but that is just what we did this weekend.

Josh has been having wisdom teeth problems. And when I say problems I mean, pounding migraines at all hours of the night where he thought it would hurt less if his head really did explode. There was some nights he would only get 2 hours of sleep. Sure, you could say it was practice for when the baby comes, but there is no way he could have cared for a baby while in that much pain.

I've been reassured that when I had my wisdom teeth pulled several years ago, I wasn't near as funny as Josh was this weekend. He said the only goofy thing I did is when the doc asked if I could see my husband I declared I could see both of them just fine.

Here are a few of the funny things Josh said and did on the ride home from the dentist.

"That doc, he's okay. He's a good egg in my book."

He told me to pull into K-mart and buy a Wii (I had wanted to buy one the night before, but he talked me out of it.) When I told him we were no where near K-mart, he made a big circle with his arm (and almost feel out of the seat, thank goodness for seat belts) and told me to turn the car around and go get one.

He declared that we were NOT going to stop in Heber on the way home. (We were no where near Heber nor were we going to be.)

He declared several people he knows to be "up-tight." I was one of them.

He demanded I call his brother and tell him he was ready to go ice fishing, right that second.

When my cell rang and I didn't answer it, he got after me for ignoring phone calls. He also kept reminding me they left a voice-mail.

He compared some people to coyotes.

When they gave us the okay to leave, I noticed his glasses weren't with him. Josh noticed he was missing teeth and he wanted to know where they were, he was going to make a necklace.

In an act of what I thought was brilliance, I asked for a kitten. He asked me if I had met our last kitten and there was no way in Hades he was letting me get another kitten like her. I should have just gotten the kitten, because he can't remember telling me no.

I learned a new lesson about love on Saturday. The hardest thing I've had to do since we were married almost nine years ago was to walk out of the room when the doctor told me to. It took every ounce of strength I had to do it. I made it as far as the restroom where I crumbled. It is so hard to love someone so much and yet not be able to do anything to help them.