Our little surprise is growing up

A little someone turned eight months old yesterday (you can read more about it here).

It truly never gets old. That he's here, that we have two babies. That God surprised us like this.

And you know what? You know that feeling a lot of us infertile girls have experienced, the one where you're sitting around minding your own business and all of a sudden that fact that you are infertile and may never be a mother comes rushing at you full force? I used to hate that. As if I didn't think about it enough, it would suddenly be even clearer and cut even deeper in those moments.

Well, that feeling has been replaced by the sudden realization that I did conceive. That I got a positive test and was pregnant for nine months and now he's here and his name is Luke. As if I don't already know that, sometimes it just hits me and I get butterflies all over again, just like when I first got that positive test.

And just like when I first became a mother and would look down at my teeny Clara and simply not believe it.

I know not everyone recovers emotionally from infertility like I have, and I am thankful every day that it doesn't haunt me. I hope that doesn't hurt anyone for me to say that; I know I used to love hearing that someone hardly had any infertility scars. Yes, it did shape me and change me in ways before unimaginable. And of course, we wouldn't have Clara without it, so for that I will never wish it away. But I just can't have it live with me all the time. It was there for a long while and now it's gone.

And if I'm ever worried about there being no scars, well, I just have to look down and see the big one on my abdomen. That one's not going away no matter how joyful my life is. And that's okay. It got me where I am today.

And where I am is a fabulous place. Filled with runny noses, and kisses, and blueberry stains on just about everything.

I wish everyone could be where I am. It used to cause me so much pain wondering why some were plucked from infertility, while I still floundered there. And it's no more clear today why I was one of the "lucky" ones.

But I know that God is with us all and hasn't abandoned any of us. That was the message I received nearly two years ago, days before the birth of a baby I didn't yet know existed and who would make me a mother in five short weeks.

God is full of surprises. One of mine is now eight months and I'm so thankful for him every day.

"And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God." Luke 1:37

Adoption Q & A

Today, fellow blogger (and in-real-life friend) Grace In My Heart posted some questions about adoption. The questions are ones that she has gotten from others who are discerning the process. Questions I'm sure most of us adoptive mothers had at some point, ourselves.

Instead of just answering them herself - which I'm sure she will do a fabulous job of - she is posing the questions to all of us other adoptive moms out there as well, in the hope that we all, together, can provide a wide array of viewpoints. After all, if we were all in the same room (instead of online on our separate blogs) we could talk for HOURS, I'm sure.

So, thanks GIMH, for asking us! And without further ado, here are my answers...


Questions for Adoptive Mothers for those Discerning Adoption:

How did you know when to begin the adoption process?

Honestly, I didn't know. And that was one of my biggest stumbling blocks. I hemmed and hawed over whether I was on the path God wanted me on... what type of adoption should we do... should we wait a year... and so on and so forth. And then there were all those questions I struggled with like will I love the child?... will he/she love me?... will our families love him/her? Not to mention, am I starting at the exact right moment in time to adopt my child? Oh, the weight of it all can be crushing!

What finally convinced me to start the process (and I say "me" because my husband was on board to begin whenever I said the word), was when I realized that by delaying things I was keeping my husband from becoming a father. He was ready, and I didn't have any good reasons to keep putting it off. He wasn't complaining, of course. He would have waited as long as it took me to come around, but I didn't want to do that to him any longer.

So, through a ton of prayer (specifically, prayer in front of the Blessed Sacrament helped immensely), I finally decided to take a leap of faith.

Did you ever feel like you failed at TTC (and were giving up "trying") so that's why you adopted?  What suggestions do you have for those working through these emotions?

I most definitely did not feel like we were adopting because we had failed at conceiving. Yes, I believe those two things are intrinsically connected (we would not have our precious daughter if I had been super fertile from day one) but knew were weren't going to stop doctors appointments, medications and treatments just because we started the home study process (it actually rubbed me the wrong way when some agencies would require you to stop fertility treatments once you signed on with them. Although I always wondered if that rule was designed for artificial reproductive technologies, and not for things like treating painful endometriosis). We wanted to be open to however God wanted to grow our family.

I do see another way to look at this question though - more like, did I think I was conceding something by starting the adoption process. And, in a way, I'd have to say 'yes'. Maybe not once we actually started the process, but it was one of the reasons it probably took me so long to start in the first place. For a while, I probably hoped every month I'd be pregnant so we wouldn't have to start the adoption process. But after I'd been at it long enough, I think I started to realize that being a mother was what I wanted most of all. My prayer turned from "God, please let me get pregnant" to "God, please grow my family." I remember where I was when that switch flipped. It was a big moment in my infertility journey.

And that's the suggestion I'd give to those who are seriously discerning adoption but may not be ready to let the dream of conceiving go just yet: Ask yourself what's most important. Is it carrying a child in your womb? Is it being able to birth a child? Is it having a baby that is the perfect blending of you and your husband? Or is it being a mother? There is nothing wrong with wanting all of those things. They are wonderful and noble and beautiful. But, eventually, you may come to the conclusion that being a mother edges out the others.

(And, on a side note - please keep in mind that I am not in any way saying all infertile women need to ask themselves those questions. I know adoption isn't for everyone. But for those trying to discern adoption, I just wanted to convey what worked for me.)

Were you and your husband on the same page about adoption?  What suggestions do you have for a spouse who may not be as excited as the other about adoption?

Thankfully, we were on the same page. Well, actually, I was probably the spouse not as excited about adoption! So, I should defer to Ryan for this question. And, because after nearly seven years of marriage I can speak for him, I know he would say to be patient. And that he loved me so much that he would have waited for ever. What he wanted more than anything in the world, more than a child, was for me to be happy.

How did you work through figuring out where to adopt from, how open to be, and what type of communication to have with your child's birthparents?

We just prayed and prayed about it, and eventually decided to pursue domestic adoption with a local agency. Over the years we had sat through a number of informational sessions with various agencies, including two for international adoption, but the cost is what was the determining factor in our final decision.

As for the type of communication, we knew we would potentially be approached with a situation that was more on the "open" side and we didn't want to rule anything out ahead of time, but we both agreed we would prefer one that was more "closed." In the end, our adoption is closed. We never turned one down because it was open, and it wasn't our decision that our current one is closed. It ended up being out of our hands.

Adoption can be really expensive.  What recommendations do you have to work through the financial aspect of it all?

Pray! I know this may sound trite but, honestly, if it wasn't for God's abundant grace we wouldn't have been able to afford our adoption. We shouldn't have been able to afford our adoption. You see, we were prepared to pay what our agency charged, which was a lot less than what our actual adoption cost. Yet the money came in the form of loans and gifts and we knew we had to move forward.

I know not everyone will have money fall from the sky, so I don't pretend to think it's always as simple as that either. But I say that just so you don't rule it out. Listen to God, because He may be nudging you in a direction like fundraising, or a generous relative, or even strangers.

Do you truly feel like a mother even though you didn't give birth?  If you've never been pregnant, do you feel like you missed out on this experience?

I am 100% Clara's mother, completely and without a doubt. You know when that fear (that I might not feel like her mother because I didn't birth her) went out the window? When I was the one waking up with her in the middle of the night changing her poopy diapers. All babies are totally reliant on others, they literally cannot survive without someone caring for them around the clock. And when that someone is you, you know you are their parent.

Do I wish sometimes that I had carried Clara in my womb? Of course. That was a precious time that another woman got to share with her (although thank God that she did) and, after going through pregnancy myself, I know how special it is to feel those kicks and know you are growing that baby. But the truth of the matter - what I always come back to - is that Clara wouldn't be in this world if another woman hadn't carried her. Me and Ryan couldn't have created Clara. And I'd trade that any day to have her here.

What prayers and/or books do you recommend for those discerning whether or not to pursue adoption?

I didn't read any books (not a big reader), but I did pray a ton. I would recommend, first and foremost, prayer in front of the Blessed Sacrament. That's what helped us the most.

Another recommendation I have is to meet and spend time with people who have adopted or are adopted. For me, adoption was something I had no real-life experience with. And the more I discerned it, the more it seemed like this abstract concept that I wasn't sure I could actually see myself being a part of. But when I spent time with adoptive families, I was brought back down to reality. I knew I could do it. And when I saw those beautiful children I knew I could take one home with me and be happy forever.

What has been the best part about being an adoptive mother?

The best part, without a doubt, is looking at this face every day...

...and having her blow kisses back at me. There's nothing like it in the whole world.

An unexpected look-alike

In the years that I discerned adoption, I wrestled with a lot of issues. One of them was that I didn't want our child to look like us.

I know. That's not exactly a normal item on a prospective adoptive parent's check-list.

I just had this hang-up that I didn't want to blend in and appear to be a "normal" family. I thought I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a fertile because I most definitely was not one. I wouldn't want to have an awkward conversation about adoption when someone mistook my kids for being biologically related. I wanted people to see us coming and not have to wonder.

How things have changed.

It turns out I don't care about any of that. I love being an adoptive family. There are no avoid awkward conversations to be had. We embrace the fact that our daughter is adopted and talk about it freely, but I also don't mind if someone doesn't realize that she is.

And, interestingly enough, that usually ends up being what happens.

I don't know if you see it, but many people think Clara looks like me. We hear it all the time. Just yesterday, in fact.

As we were talking with a woman and her husband for the first time yesterday morning, they were surprised to learn that Clara was adopted. She looked so much like me, they said, that they never would have guessed it.

I know that sometimes people see things that aren't there simply because their brain tells them to connect the dots. We appeared to be your average biological family to that woman; no one had mentioned ahead of time we had adopted our daughter, so why would she assume it? Our matching brown hair and eyes is enough to not cause anyone to question it. But I don't know. I am starting to see it more and more.

The funniest time I was mistaken for her biological mother was when Ryan was telling someone how his daughter was half Mexican. Minutes later when I walked up, the man - not knowing Clara was adopted - started speaking to me in Spanish! I loved being mistaken for a Mexican woman! (Okay, I should add that it was dark out and he couldn't really see me, but I like to pretend he thought I was exotic looking! We still laugh about it.)

We also get comments from those who know she is adopted. They say she has my smile (although that can be mimicked, I think) and my eyes. It's interesting, though, because sometimes people seem hesitant to point it out. I wonder if they're afraid I might be offended, like I might think they're placing an importance on looking alike and the superiority of being biologically related. I don't mind it at all though. I think it's pretty neat.

I wonder if Clara will think it's neat. She might... I'm not sure. But I do know that we'll never make a huge deal out of it either way. We won't be hyper-focused on her looking like us, as if that's something to be desired - Lord knows it's not! Haha ;) - but at the same time, we won't downplay or avoid the comparisons either. They are what they are - funny and interesting observations that make us smile and don't offend us one tiny bit.

I love it actually, because I think Clara is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I couldn't receive a bigger compliment.

What's been going on

I've been gone a while! From the blog, and from home. But I'm back, both at home and now here.

There's a lot to update, so here's a glimpse at what has transpired while I was away...

1. My baby sister got married, which is why the babies and I were out of town. We spent the week before the wedding at my parents and then Ryan drove overnight to meet us there the morning of the wedding (random t.v. news trivia of the day: news anchors can not take vacation days during ratings periods).

I spent the week leading up to the wedding playing wedding planner (well, weeks actually), which I really enjoy. I took these photos of the couple which were used as their table numbers:

Interestingly enough, my dad found this idea!

Also made this card box:

Who knew wrapping a round box was SO difficult?

The day, itself, was beautiful. The Mass was held in our hometown, the same church where Ryan and I were married, and the reception was at a really ritzy hotel in Cooperstown, NY, and it was easily the nicest wedding I've ever attended. Here's a look at the day:

We walked down the aisle Royal-Wedding style. I would be Pippa.

After Clara did a face-plant off the step, we decided I would hold her hand.

Me and my southern gentleman.

The family shot. You can't really tell, but they are wearing matching father-and-son ties.

The happy couple.

You can't really see her tiara here, but it led to a lot of little girls wedding-crashing and wanting a picture with "the princess"

My awesome parents. This was officially the last wedding they had to pay for. 

My in-laws made it up for the big day!

The whole family, the day after the wedding. It was my mom's vision, although she later told me she pictured like 30 people in the shot. What?! Haha!

I love these two.

Congratulations, Mr. & Mrs. Baker!

2. Luke got his first tooth. And he wasn't, surprisingly, even that crabby. Clara apparently also got two teeth, which I only discovered when we were sticking our fingers in each others mouths in the back seat on the ride home to VA. I still haven't really gotten a good glimpse at them yet.

My sweet boy. If you zoom WAY in, you can see his new toofer.

3. I'm sick. Again. This time I'm being treated for strep throat even though I tested negative. I think I've spent the better part of the last three months sick. But, thankfully, I was healthy last week at my parents'. Maybe it's VA, or my house! Let's hope not. I'm just praying the kids don't get it. But with all the kissing we do (I can't help it!), it's probably inevitable.

4. Luke slept in a pack-n-play at my parents' and ended up in bed with me every night. I probably could have let him cry a little and fall back asleep, but it's so hard when there are others in the house who don't normally have a baby crying at night.

It's all good, though, because thanks be to God he went back to sleeping normal in his crib immediately. Even the night we first got home and it was past his bed time, he got right in his crib and was out. Naps have even been good. Baby boy missed his crib.

5. I actually thought I might be pregnant this month. Despite my first four postpartum cycles being normal lengths (lasting between 28 and 30 days), I made it to cycle day 41 this time around. So I can't say I wasn't thinking of baby names. Haha. Turns out I was just having a wacky breastfeeding cycle. Which is kind of odd, since Luke started sleeping through the night in June and you'd think that would make me more normal, not less. Speaking of that...

6. Luke lost a pound. Please tell me that is perfectly normal! Please! My mom, a nurse, assures me it is. He's still more than double his birth weight and he is the picture of health. His poops are fine and he's eating normal (breastfeeding and baby food). I'm wondering if it's because of losing those night feedings, coupled with being way more active (not only during the day, but he rolls a lot in his crib too). And maybe getting longer?

6. We have a new bathroom! You see, we live in a very small, one-bathroom house and that one bathroom is teeny tiny. Whatever you are picturing, I'm sure it's smaller. It's hard enough for the four of us, let alone when people come to visit. And then there's the re-sale value (we're just going to pretend that we're not going to be stuck here forever while the housing market never fully recovers).

So my father-in-law ever-so-generously agreed to put in a half-bath in our laundry room. Here's the "before":

What a mess! How very embarrassing.

This is the "during" shot:

He replaced the door with a window, added a tile floor, and many other things you can't see here but which took many hours and lots of hard work.

And the "after":

Yay!

I love it! Our laundry/junk room is now a serene, relaxing bathroom/laundry room. It almost makes me want to do laundry! Almost.

I'm sure after I hit "publish" I'll think of many other things that have transpired over the last couple of weeks, but I'm also sure you'll live even if you never know them. Hopefully I'll resume posting again in the next couple days, but I'm sure you'll be fine without that too! :)

My babies' daddy

When I met my husband 12 years ago (nearly to the day today), I knew right away he'd make a great father.

And I remember clearly the reason why - he was funny.

As someone prone to stress and seriousness, I knew I needed someone to lighten the mood, and I dreamed of a playful, fun-loving dad for my kids. For some reason I always had a particular scenario in my mind of Ryan and I on a long car ride (perhaps due to memories of car trips as a kid being terrible...whose aren't?) with our kids in the backseat starting to get antsy, and Ryan calming them down with some silly joke or song.

Well, the more I got to know him better, as with anyone, I discovered Ryan actually isn't calm and collected 100% of the time. And I'm sure he's bound to lose it on a long trip sometime in the future. But he is the fun, playful dad I dreamed of. He's not afraid to act like a kid around the babies, and he's always making Clara laugh. She probably thinks his voice is two octaves higher than it actually is from the way he talks to her in funny voices.

And Clara worships him. She calls for him every time she wakes up. She runs to the front door and stands, perfectly still (no small feat for a toddler), watching him get into his truck and back out of our driveway, twice a day, every day. She lights up when he comes on t.v., loudly proclaiming, "Daddy! Daddy!" And you should see the way she looks at him when he walks in a room. Pure love.

They have a special bond, those two.

I am absolutely in love with the way Clara loves her father (and, I have assured him, Luke will feel the same way soon.. probably around the time he's weaned).

And while I love the way he jokes with her and makes her giggle uncontrollably, no longer is his sense of humor the main reason I'm glad I chose him for my kids' dad. Even better than all that (which is pretty darn good) is how he protects us, provides for us, and worries about the bigger picture so we don't have to.

In particular, I love that Clara and Luke's father has planned and worked hard to allow me to stay at home with them. I love that he works two jobs. I love that he doesn't mind not having the best things (if I worked he'd have an iPad by now, just about the only material item he has any desire for in the world). I love that we're on the same page, and that it was never even a discussion whether we'd live on one income.

And recently he said something that nearly made me swoon, one of the sweetest things he's ever said: That he'd want me to stay home even if I didn't want to.

Okay, you might think either he or I am nuts if you don't feel the same way about that statement (and that he's controlling, which couldn't be further from the truth). But as someone who loves staying home, hearing my husband say that was like music to my ears. That he felt that strongly about it. Ahh! I just love that.

And I am so terrible. I complain about our small house, our yard, our neighborhood. That we don't have a van. I spend a lot of time complaining about what we don't have. I even - get this - complain about him being gone at his second job.

When I write it all down like that it makes me cringe.

It's not easy being the family's sole earner, all that weight on his shoulders alone. That's one big thing I've learned since becoming a parent - that Ryan has pressures I'll never know. It effects men at their core, the innate desire to take care of their family. He's driven by that.

And the fact that me and the babies just see the results - the home, the food, the clothes, the fun extras - and not the negative effects of the stress he's under... well, it's all part of the great dad that he is.

So on this Father's Day (a day late), I am so totally grateful for my husband. For his humor, his love, his hard work, his drive, his protection, and that he lets me stay home to raise our children, despite not getting that iPad he wouldn't mind having ;). We love him so much and I thank God he's my babies' daddy.

Our girl

I have been meaning to mark Clara turning a year-and-a-half, but things have been busy lately.

She's well past that milestone now, but that's okay. Better late than never.

We are absolutely loving this age. She cracks us up all day long. Like this... her version of hanging your Rosary on your rearview mirror:

I love finding out every day what new words and sentences she has decided to try out on us. Her old stand-by's are "Here you go" and "There you go." Another favorite is "me," which she just started saying out of the blue last month. She goes around saying it, asking you to pick her up. How can we resist?

Oh, and "Good girl." She says that every time she does something naughty.

She also loves blowing kisses, often with a big "muaaahhhh!" That's another thing she does when she's knows she's doing something wrong.

She loves, loves, loves to sing. She sings all day long. Sometimes it's songs I sing to her, and sometimes it's ones she makes up. Last night I heard her in her crib singing (very loudly), "Duckie! Duckie! Duckie!" (She sleeps with a stuffed duck). And she has the most precious little singing voice.

Speaking of music, she has an obsession lately - my iPhone and, more specifically, the iPod on my phone. She is constantly asking me to use it, which she does by singing her favorite song -  Price Tag by Jessie J. Ever heard it? The chorus goes It's not about the money, money, money... (it's a pretty benign song, as far as music goes these days) so Clara goes around singing it constantly, Money, money, money, especially when she wants my phone so she can hear it. And it's amazing how she knows exactly how to use my iPhone, how to open the iPod, find her song. Especially because we never taught her!

We've started to slowly potty train her because she showed us she was interested. She even tells me when she's about to go, pointing to her diaper and saying the word for whatever it is she's about to do.

She's still a pipsqueak, weighing 22 pounds. But we found out at her last check up that she has grown taller.

It's so hard to believe she's the same baby girl who was born ten weeks early, weighing just three pounds. It's blessing she was as healthy as she was after she was born, left the NICU before even reaching her due date, and has thrived like she has. I don't think I really let the gravity of her prematurity sink in until recently. Perhaps because we didn't know her until she was safe and well. But ten weeks... Man that's early. She's a miracle.

She is the sweetest girl we know, and we literally thank God each and every day that she is in our life. Just tonight Ryan wondered out loud what it would be like if we never knew her. Thankfully, that's not something we'll ever have to worry about. God brought her to us, entrusted us with her care, and blessed us eternally. And by that I am so humbled.

Things are looking up

Wow, it has gotten SO much better. It must be all your prayers!

Last night Luke fell asleep in about twenty minutes. But then a dog barked loudly right outside his window, waking him up, and he took another twenty to thirty minutes to fall asleep.

Big improvement! But, I wondered, had I imagined him being asleep after the initial twenty minutes? Maybe he had just calmed down momentarily and was never actually asleep? Or maybe he had been asleep, but it was a fluke? I didn't want to get my hopes up.

So then, I put him down tonight and....... he fell asleep in less than twenty minutes!! And that was after he only fussed in his crib. No crying!

Ahhh, what a wonderful feeling.

His look - unbuttoned and full of drool

He also napped today. He did cry for a little while, but at least it ended with a nice, long nap.

Thank God for sleeping babies. Thank God for time for me to clean, relax, regroup. These are the days when I think, A third? No problem!

It was a great day all around, actually, because Clara decided to finally say the magic words that melt a mama's heart:

What she's actually doing here is singing the song "Skinamarinky Dink." For months, when she'd sing the "I love you" part, she'd point to her eye and say "I...I...I..." and, no matter what, she wouldn't say the rest. We knew she could. She just knew we wanted it too much.

And then today, clear as can be (well, for a baby), she finished the lyric. And she pointed right at me (which is pretty amazing is because she's going through a major daddy phase right now).

Oh, those babies. They know just how to get you. Kind of like when Clara is in the middle of doing something she knows is wrong (while I'm nursing Luke) and starts blowing me kisses. That girl has got it figured out.

The babies begged me to do this for my sister's birthday yesterday

So thanks again for all your prayers and amazing advice and encouragement about Luke. And I'm hoping he's turned a corner and is realizing how awesome sleep is. Heck, I didn't discover that until my twenties, so if he has, he's way ahead of me!