Archive | February, 2012

Flowers Can Make a World of Difference

17 Feb

When you were born, I was in the hospital from around 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday to 3 p.m that following Saturday. I didn’t sleep much over those couple of days, partially because hospital beds are monstrously uncomfortable, but also partially because I didn’t to waste any time with you. Your adoption was impossibly imminent at this point – I knew that when we left the hospital, I would be going one way and you would be going another. I think I’m one of the very few women in the world who wanted her postpartum hospital stay to last as long as possible. So during the very few times I did sleep, I slept snuggled up with you, as you can see in the above picture that Pop-Pop 3 took.

You had a lot of visitors in the hospital. My friends, my friends parents, even your Uncle J (one of my best guy friends) flew in from New Orleans to see you. Actually, Uncle J and I had lunch and movie plans on the day you were born, so someday when he starts joking around with you about “messing up his plans,” you’ll understand why. Pop-Pop 3 and Grandma M stayed in the birthing room with me, but the waiting room was mostly crammed with your many admirers, just waiting to meet you.

You and I got a lot of flowers, too. A couple bouquets from your many aunts (my friends), a couple bouquets from my real aunts and some from other family members. My favorite bouquet, however, came from The B’s. I got it in the hospital on Friday, the day after you were born. The hospital social worker had just been in to talk to me about adoption; the procedure, the papers, etc. I felt like I was going to burst into tears just thinking about all of it – after finally meeting you and getting to spend time with you, “giving you up” was starting to feel more and more impossible. I loved you. After only spending 12 hours with you, I didn’t know how to exist without you.

As I was thinking all of this, a nurse walked in to deliver some flowers to me. They were beautiful – I remember that the roses were orange, and I loved the color. They were from The B’s with a card that ended up making a whole world of difference.

The card read, “Looking forward to spending a life time with you. Love, E, J and Sports Man.”

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, almost as if it was designed that way. Although I was still sad and still scared, I felt a sort of calm and peace settle around me. We took the flowers and the card home and put them in our living room and over the next several days – some of the hardest days – whenever I would doubt or worry, I would pass by the card and it would help me to remember that I had chosen the right family – that The B’s wanted to love me as much as they loved you. And you just couldn’t go wrong with people who had that much love to give.

Tomorrow, The B’s are bringing you to see me, and we will get to spend the weekend together. And the month following this one, I’ll probably drive down to your house. And over the summer when I’m gone (I have an internship in NYC), we’ll Skype and send pictures and videos and e-mails, and I’ll keep writing you letters.

It looks like they weren’t kidding. It’s going to be quite a life time together, huh?

The flowers and card I got from The B's

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Big Shoes, Grocery Carts and Other Things You Shouldn’t Play With

16 Feb

For your first birthday, you got a lot of presents. I got you a little baby “walker” of sorts – you had just started learning how to walk, but you couldn’t do it alone yet. You had found a solution for that problem, though: you had a thing for pushing The B’s dining room chairs around the house, so I figured I could buy you a toy that would be a lot easier to push and would have fewer damaging effects on their hardwood floor. You took to it pretty well – after falling down a couple of times and realizing that you didn’t have to push on it with quite as much effort as you pushed on the chairs, you became a regular pro with your toy walker.

 Two days later, at your birthday party, you got another similar toy. It was a miniature grocery cart – technically it wasn’t a baby walker, but it had wheels and that’s all that mattered to you. Towards the end of your party, when we were gathering up all of your goodies, you decided you wanted to walk around and since the grocery cart was the only thing with wheels, you decided it would be you “walking aid.”

 Unfortunately, you had to push the grocery cart with even less effort than you had to push the toy I got you. And since the mini grocery cart wasn’t actually built to be a learn-to-walk tool, your idea of walking around with it backfired. You pushed down on it a little hard (since that’s how you did it with your other toys) and the part you were pushing on went down and the front end of the cart went up. The front end whacked you in face just before you went down to the floor with the back-end of the cart that you were pushing on. When you rolled over, I saw that you were bleeding from where your mouth had been hit.

 I was horrified. If there was one arena in which I failed as a parent that day, it was keeping my calm and comforting you. Because, of course, you immediately burst into tears…and so did I. Being surrounded by people as I was, I held it in pretty well, but I have felt so hurt in my entire life. I picked you up and held you and hugged you and eventually handed you over to J  when none of that worked. Eventually she got you calmed down and you were happy as a clam on the way home, but I will never, ever forget that.

 Apparently, I had a similar experience when I was younger. Pop-pop 3 would always tell me about the day when I was three or four, and I decided I was literally going to walk around in my mother’s (Grandma M’s) shoes. Of course, they were too big and I tripped…right into the corner of a bench on our porch. I still have the scar on my cheek. Pop-pop 3 said it was like watching slow motion – he could see it all happening, but no super human powers could get him there fast enough to stop it. He always relayed this story to me with incredible intensity, and I never understood what the big deal was, especially since I had come through it just fine.

 I finally understood after your incident with the cart. It hurt me more to see you hurt than any physical pain has ever caused me. Even though you turned out just fine mere minutes later, I think I’m scarred for life. I would have given anything to spare you those few minutes of pain. And nothing is sadder than you when you cry. You stick your little bottom lip out and your eyes get all red and you bury your face in the nearest person’s shoulder…it’s making me feel sad to think about.

 Witnessing your child get hurt results in the strongest empathy I think I’ve ever felt.

 Therefore, you are not allowed to: fall down, break any bones, play any sport that could result in injury, use kitchen knives, be within a foot of any outlet, drive, burn yourself, handle any hot food or beverages that could burn you, eat anything that could choke you, play with anything that has claws or sharp teeth, swim in bodies of water deeper than a few inches, wear scarves (Google Isadora Duncan), or go anywhere without wearing a helmet and knee/elbow pads.

 I’m glad we had this talk. I can’t wait to see you this weekend! We’re going to have so much fun sitting in the middle of an empty room, devoid of any objects that could possibly result in you being hurt.

 Just kidding.

 But just know that every time you get hurt, I get hurt with you. I guess it comes with the territory of being absolutely, completely in love with you. I promise to get better at not losing my head anytime I see you fall or otherwise injure yourself. It’s a tough promise to make, but in the spirit of letting you figure the world out for yourself, it’s one I’ll try to keep.

 But while I try to do that, maybe you could lay low on the cart pushing, and stick to wearing your own shoes.

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The Business of Being a Brother

15 Feb

 Your biological dad, C, has two adopted siblings. He’s the oldest – he has a younger sister and a younger brother, both of whom were adopted by his parents. When C and I dated, I got to know his siblings pretty well. They’re both great kids – actually, C is about six years older than his little brother, just like you and Sports Man.

 After I had been working with my adoption agency for a while, Bethany Christian Services, they had me go through “prospective family profiles.” Moms and dads who were looking for a little one to bring home would put together “books” that would tell birthmothers a little bit about themselves. The B’s had the coolest book by far (I still have it), but one of the many reasons I chose them was actually your big brother, Sports Man.

 When I was first considering adoption, I thought that if I went through with it, I wanted you to go to a family that had no kids. I thought that a couple without kids would appreciate you more since you’d be their “first.”

 But then one day, my dad – you call him Pop-Pop 3 – made an offhanded comment about couples who already had a child. He said, “If a couple already has a child and he or she is still alive, I’d say that’s a pretty good track record.” I found it humorous, but the more I thought about it, the more truth I found in it.

 I always wished I’d had a sibling. I thought it would be fun to grow up with someone, to have someone to share secrets with or play games with, someone who would always stick up for you and have your back, someone who would never judge you too harshly, who would always be there for you – I thought it would be like having a built-in best friend. Of course, never actually having a sibling, my idea of one is rather idealized; I know siblings get annoyed with one another and fight and call each other names. But I figured the days when you’re each other’s best friend would make the rest of it worth it.

 I picked The B’s to be your family for many other reasons that I’ll tell you about some day, but the fact that you would have a big brother was definitely one of them. It was comforting for me to know that you would always have a playmate, a “partner in crime,” someone a little closer to your age who could teach you the fun stuff about being a kid. And if anyone knows about fun kid stuff, it’s Sports Man.

 Sports Man has his name for a reason – he is a sports encyclopedia. He knows stats for every NFL or NBA team. He knows who plays what positions now, who played them in the past, how many winning seasons each team has, how tall every NBA player is, how many yards every NFL player has, the history of Super Bowl wins…I am astounded by his intellect most of the time. Maybe even a little intimidated. We met him when he was six and now at eight years old, he’s only gotten cooler. He loves to play games and learn things, and most of all, he loves to do those things with you.

 And he was so, so excited to get you as a younger brother. J and E told me all about how, before he even knew about you, he would go on and on about the things he wanted to teach his little brother or sister, or the games he would play with him or her when he finally got a younger sibling. The same August your adoption became official, Sports Man had to go back to school and he cried on his first day because he didn’t want to leave you. So on the days that you two fight or get annoyed with each other, just remember – you were a dream come true to him.

 And even more than that, Sports Man was a dream come true for me. It made me feel like I could truly give you absolutely everything by placing you with The B’s. As if J and E weren’t blessing enough, I got to give you something I never had. And Sports Man is a gift to me because he is a gift to you – you love him to pieces. You follow him around and play with his toys and you want to do the things he does. Sometimes, he is the only one who can make you smile. I’ve seen him make you laugh when you’re in the middle of crying. He loves you and you love him and one day, I hope that you’ll be the closest of friends. Grown men who come home for Thanksgiving and joke about the “younger days.”

 And not only that but I got siblings out of this deal too. I got a brother in E, and I finally got the sister I’d always wanted in J. While I may not have grown up with them, I tell my secrets to J. We go shopping together and go to lunch together and talk about the future together. She is on my speed dial and we talk frequently in between visits. I swap music with E. We have our morning routine of coffee and chit chat whenever I come to your house for a weekend. He send me cute, e-mail videos of you. I share stories and joy and laughter with both of them. I love them and they, like you, are my gift.

 I suppose this means that Pop-Pop 3 does have some wisdom in him after all ;)

The first time Sports Man met you at your adoption ceremony :)

 

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To My Handsome, Little Valentine

14 Feb

Hey there, handsome little man. Today is Valentine’s Day! I know that doesn’t mean much to you yet, so I’ll tell you a little bit about it.

Today is all about love. Love for your family, for your friends, for someone special. It’s about celebrating the people in your life that cherish you, and that you cherish back. It’s about loving yourself for who you are. It’s about realizing how much love you are surrounded by, period. Again, I know this doesn’t mean much to a one-and-a-half year old, but I find it to be very convenient since I am crazy, madly, head-over-heels in love with you.

However, when most people think of Valentine’s Day, they think of romantic love, which is also lots of fun. You won’t have to worry about this until you’re at least 45, so don’t think about it too much yet. But today E may be gifting J with a card or some flowers (or vice versa knowing how creative J is). Somewhere right now, a girl is getting chocolates in a heart-shaped box and a guy is planning a romantic evening. As you get older, things like this are what Valentine’s Day will be about.

I, however, like to think of Valentine’s Day as how I said it earlier: “It’s about celebrating the people in your life that cherish you, and that you cherish back.” I don’t save my love for one person (although if there was a list, you’d be at the top…sorry everyone else!), I like to give it freely to everyone important to me – my mom and dad, my beautiful friends, The B’s.

In a way Valentine’s Day is like Thanksgiving for me – it makes me realize how many people love me and care about me. It’s a day when I realize how wide my support system is and how lucky I am to have everyone in it. I have some of the best friends in the world, friends who have known you since you were just an 8-week old ultrasound picture, who love you almost as much as I do. They have always been there for me, whenever I need them. I adore them. They make my world go round, just like you do. Never underestimate the power of support.

So on this lovely Valentine’s Day, I want you to know that if you choose to celebrate Valentine’s Day the way I do, you are going to have the world’s biggest support system to be thankful for. You will have The B’s who already love you beyond words. You have J and E’s parents who think you are one of the world’s coolest kids. You have my parents you already brag about you endlessly and have their home wallpapered with photos of you. You have my friends who ask to tag along on every visit I take to see you and swarm my house whenever you come to town. You have your awesome big brother who already loves teaching you things and playing with you. You have everyone you’ve touched along the your journey from me to the B’s.

And lastly, you have me – no matter where you go or what you do. No matter if you want to be a rock star one day and football player the next. No matter where your dreams take you or what your interests are, I will support you. I will help you reach those dreams and explore those interests. Whatever you want to do or be, I want you to do or be. I am proud of you and I always will be. It is vitally important to me that you know how much I love you. Which part of the reason I started this blog – so I can tell you every day. Not just today, which is dedicated to love, but every day I possibly can, whether I’m with you or not.

So Happy Valentine’s Day, my handsome Little Man. I’m so happy to be yours.

You and I last Valentine's Day :)

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Little Man and Milestones

13 Feb

One of the many things you will learn about me as you get older is that I have a very unique memory. By this I mean that I’ll leave my apartment to go to school with my backpack…which will be empty because I forgot to actually put my books in it; but I’ll remember that I met one of my best friends, your Aunt S, at 11:30 a.m. on August 18, 2005. Go figure.

My stellar ability to remember dates is intensified by a thousand when it comes to you. I think it just comes with the parent territory – we’re just so excited to see you grow and watch you learn, and we’re always so proud when you do. We start creating mental scrapbooks the first day you so much as smile. As a result, all of your big, “milestone” moments are time stamped in my mind.

I found out about you on December 22, 2009 around noon at my doctor’s office.
I first felt you kick on Valentine’s Day  2010.
I found out you were a boy on March 16, 2010 at ten in the morning.
I went into labor with you at 7 a.m. on July 22, 2010.
You were born at 5:41 p.m. later that day (7 lbs, 6 oz, 19.25 inches long).
Your  adoption was official (or as The B’s call it, “Gotcha Day”) on August 2, 2010.
I first heard you laugh on November 20, 2010.
I first saw you crawl on April 2, 2011.
The first word I heard you say was “da-da.”
I saw you walk for the first time the day after your first birthday – you took four steps in a row, and as soon as you realized you were on your own, you plopped to floor as a myriad of your family members (myself included) gave you a huge round of applause.

When you were tiny, I used to wish that you’d stay small forever, but I’m having so much fun watching you grow and learn that I take it back (although I do occasionally miss the days where I could hold you and you couldn’t do anything about it). Watching you feel your way through the world is the most fun, entertaining thing I think I’ve ever witnessed. And the best part is, as you learn about yourself, I learn about you too.

But what I want you to know is that I think all of the things you do are important. From the little things, like learning to play with toys, to the big stuff – every milestone you reach, every achievement you make, even the ones you fall short of but tried to do anyways – I treasure every single one. Every second I spend with you is a special one to me and I’m sorry that I’m not always around it witness all of the seconds in between. I wish I could be.

That was a big deal to me back when I was weighing the pros and cons of adoption – I was so afraid of all the growing up you would do when I wasn’t around. I was so afraid of what I was going to miss – the cute, funny little things, the bruises or cuts I wasn’t going to be able to kiss, the milestones you were going to hit that I would only hear about after the fact, if I was lucky.

 It just so happens that I am lucky. Your parents are experts at keeping me caught up with you. When something big happens, I get a text from J, which is generally soon followed by a picture and then a video from E. I will never be able to thank them enough for doing things like that for me. But that’s one of the many reasons I knew they’d be wonderful parents to you – because they think that every milestone and every achievement and every other little thing you do is just as important as I do.

You are special, my Little Man, and don’t you forget it. Because even if you do, I’m going to have record books full to remind you with.

The Coffee Prodigy

12 Feb

 This year for your first birthday, I spent the entire weekend down at your house. Your birthday was on a Friday and J had your party scheduled for Sunday, so I was there all three days. I still have the party invitation on my bedside table. J came up with a Little Man theme and hand-made every invitation and they are ridiculously cute. Remind us to show it to you someday.

Anyhow, for that Saturday and Sunday, E would come and get me up right after you woke up. He would make coffee (did I mention how much I love him?) and then the three of us would hang out until Sports Man got up and J finished getting ready. Even though you could just barely walk, you preferred crawling and I came up with a game – wherever you crawled, I would get on the floor and crawl after you as quickly as I could, like I was chasing you. You would giggle hysterically and crawl a few feet away, turn around and look at me expectantly with a smile on your face, as if to say, “Come and get me!” We played games like that all morning and I absolutely loved it. I think I got more of a kick out of it than you did.

But if there is been one thing that has been true about you since The B’s took you home, it’s that you are a daddy’s boy. Of course you love J and she loves you and Sports Man more than anything, but there have been times where the Jaws of Life probably couldn’t have pried you away from E. This happened on the morning of your party. The three of us were hanging out as usual, and E remembered that he had to spray paint one of the party decorations, so he left you with me and went out into the garage.

Needless to say, you were not happy about this turn of events. You stood at the closed garage door, cried and yelled, “Da-da!” over and over again. I tried playing my crawling game with you, dangling toys in front of you, picking you up and and bouncing you on my hip, but no dice. You weren’t having it.

Finally, I tried setting you on the counter right next to the coffee maker so that you were facing me, your tiny legs dangling over the edge. You looked over at the coffee maker, stopped crying and started reaching for it. I picked you up again and pulled the coffee maker forward (and unplugged it…sorry kid) so that you could play with it. All of a sudden, you were pressing buttons and opening and closing the hatch where the coffee goes. And not just random motions and random button pushing – you were going through the actual motions of making coffee. We spent 15 minutes “making coffee” with that unplugged coffee machine.

Being a coffee addict of the highest degree, let me just say…I’m so proud of you! But honestly, I realized something when you did that. Whenever he was home, E would get you up in the morning just like he did the weekend I was there. And every morning, he would make coffee, just like he did when I was there. He would hold you on his hip with one hand while he made coffee with the other, and you noticed that. Not only did you notice what he was doing, you noticed the specifics of it.

I know it sounds weird, but this kind of blew me away. I know that babies observe their surroundings and that they learn by doing, but I had never seen it in action before. It’s common knowledge that children watch and mimic their parents, but this was the first day I realized that you had the ability to learn from me. That simply by being around you, I could be having an impact on you. And maybe, one day, you could learn things from me, too.

Apparently, I was right sooner than I thought. My impromptu crawling game became your new favorite game to play for the next few weeks and even though it was small and silly, it made my day when I heard about it -that something I had done had stayed with you, especially something fun that made you smile. That in some small way, I can still be with you even when I’m not. I hope all of the things you learn from me make you that happy. That’s one nerve wracking thing as a parent – knowing that you’re somebody’s role model, ready or not. But I want you to know that I am going to try so, so hard to be a positive influence on you. I am going to do my absolute best to make sure that the things you learn from being around me are all good things. I want you to be proud to call me mom.

And thanks to E’s morning ritual, you’ve already got one “good thing” down pat.

Teach Little Man to make coffee: check.

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A Different Kind of Belly Dancing

11 Feb

The first time I felt you kick when I was pregnant was on Valentine’s Day. I was actually at the movies watching a film called Valentine’s Day. Honestly…it kind of felt like I had gas. Hopefully that doesn’t completely ruin the romantic image of the moment because it was a really big moment for me. I was just sitting there, in the movie theater, wondering what was going on with my stomach and all of a sudden realizing what that fluttering feeling was. It was you.

I had never been so moved in my entire life. I had known you were there, of course. I found out I was pregnant on December 22, 2009. And even though I loved you from the second I discovered you, I truly felt a connection to you that Valentine’s Day. Like our relationship was real and we were one. It was the first time I really felt like a mom. It was the best Valentine’s gift I’ve ever gotten. No flowers or chocolates or cards are ever going to make me feel as loved as I felt on that day. I felt you kick every single day from them until the day you were born, and I cherished every single second of it. I like to think it was your way of saying, “Hi mom!”

And since we both know I love videos (E sent me some great ones last night after yesterday’s post) I wanted to show you one of the many videos I have of you…before you were born. You could morph my stomach into some pretty weird shapes and it was so much fun to watch and feel! I have lots of film clips of you kicking, turning over, rolling around and doing whatever else you were doing in there. I loved every second of it and sometimes, I miss it – you being so close, feeling every movement you made. But luckily for me, I have videos like these for moments like those :)

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The Laugh I Love

10 Feb

J is a wonderful photographer. This will be easy to see when you get older and have a chance to really appreciate her work, but ever since I met her, I’ve been blown away by what she can capture with a camera. It’s how she keeps me with you even when I’m not – she sends pictures to my phone when you do something cute or silly. Occasionally, she’ll have do photoshoots of you and not only will you be adorable in them (you’ve been photogenic since your ultrasounds) but they will look downright professional. She even started a blog right after you were born so I could keep up with your day-to-day progress, but eventually you kept her too busy to be able to update it every day, and she and I grew so close, we didn’t need a blog to connect us anymore.

Though I am no where near J and her skill, I take pictures of you too. I attempt to capture every single visit we have together so I can come back home and wow your many aunts (my beautiful friends who have also loved you since you were rolling around in my tummy) with how much you’ve grown and how handsome you are. But what I like to do most is record videos of you.

I love home videos because, like pictures, they record a moment in time. So years from now when you’re taller than me (I don’t like to think about it), I will be able to look back on these videos and remember when you used to be small enough to hold. One day, I hope we can watch them together and you can be amazed by your own miniscule-ness. I also hope that on that day, as you watch your teeny, tiny self interact with the world, you can get even more of a sense of how many people love you and have loved you from the very beginning.

This is one of my favorites videos of you. Granted, it’s not one of the ones from the very beginning (and I’ve got ’em, don’t you worry), but since it’s one of my favorites, I figured it should be the first one I post in our blog.

I recorded this in June 2011; you were almost 11 months old. Sports Man was playing with the car keys (you have a thing for keys – you love to play with them) and he started jumping out from behind me and jingling them at you. As you will be able to see, you found it hilarious.

I know that everybody loves baby laughs, but I have never been happier in my life than when I see and hear you laugh. It is the best sound I’ve ever heard. You just sound so jubilant, so entertained and as a mother, I am happy whenever you are happy. I would say that’s from the Handbook too, but I think it just comes naturally. That’s part of the reason I love The B’s and everyone else you are constantly surrounded by, even though I can’t always be one of them – they make you happy. They make you smile and they make you laugh, and all of that makes me thankful.

But for the many, precious moments I do get to spend with you, I try to immortilze in film so that way, I can see you any time I miss you. That way, I can see you anytime I want.

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Handbooks, Risks, and What No One Tells You About Growing Up

9 Feb

“Because I said so” is a famous line said by all parents at some point when they are challenged by their kids. Not my parents, though. Whenever I questioned my mom and dad’s parenting authority with an “oh yeah?” or a “says who?” my parents – your grandparents – would always say to me, “It’s in the parenting handbook.”

I am sorry to tell you this, but your grandparents are dirty liars. When you were born, you did not come with a handbook as promised. I had you, a bunch of diapers and some formula, and with only that, I was supposed to transform into a parent. While I did successfully learn to change a diaper (eventually), the rest has been a make-it-up-as-you-go kind of a thing. Therefore, I have decided that when your grandparents referred to their “handbook,” they were actually talking about the rules they made up as they went along. And now that I am a parent I can’t help but think…

What a wonderful idea!

So here is my first piece of advice to you, straight from my very own parenting handbook – take all of the chances, risks and opportunities you can.

It feels cliché for me to say that, but I continually forget that everything “cliché” to me is brand new to you. That is actually how you have helped me to take the advice I just gave you. People frequently say that their children keep them young and it’s true – seeing the world through your eyes is like seeing it as this new, exciting phenomenon where everything is something worth discovering.

Honestly, I have just started taking my own advice which is why I wanted to give it to you now – taking chances and risks and opportunities is the best way to live life. It’s another way of saying do the things you want to do and don’t be afraid to live.

As I’ve gotten older, I have been more and more surrounded by practicality and I hate it. While responsiblility is necessary and I do admire it and hope that I embody it in some way, always being responsible and always doing the practical thing will take the fun out of life.

Right now, at the age of 20, I’m supposed to know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I’m supposed to have my career nailed down and preferrably, it’s supposed to be a lucrative one. I’m supposed to get in and out of school with my degree as fast as I can so that the real world can fully take hold of me and I can finally be “an adult.”

I never want you to think that.

I want your life to be as fun as humanly possible. I want you to do the things you love. I want you to experience life as fully as you can, and to do that, you have to try not to be afraid. And most of all you have to take chances – go to Europe for a month even though you’ll be broke when you get back. Try out for the basketball team even if you’re not the tallest. Take a summer internship in a far away city even though you’ve never been away from home for that long. Stay out late with your friends even though you know you’ll be tired in the morning (only if you have your parents permission to stay out late, of course. Also, don’t do this is your friends are knocking over liqour stores).

The experiences you have and the memories you make will be worth every penny, every minute of missed sleep, every minute you spend worrying about whether or not you can do it. One of the best feelings I’ve ever had is doing something I wasn’t entirely sure I could do. That’s why chances and risks can be so fun – looking back at them and knowing you accomplished them comes with the knowledge that you can do whatever you set your mind to, and that is empowering. And if there has ever been a little boy who has had a brave, adventerous, I’m-going-to-carve-my-own-path personality, it is you. You are already famous for falling down and getting right back up, and I find that I’m already proud of you.

So from here on out, do the fun things. Do what it takes to enjoy your life. And every now and then, do the things that scare you. And if they scare you a lot, know that I am always here to fall back on. No matter what you do, I will always be part of your support system (your very extensive support system).

After all, it’s in the handbook that I love you no matter what. It’s also in the handbook that I like chocolate for my birthday and that you be a Patriots fan. But for now, and forever, you only have to remember the first part.

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The Birds, the Bees and the Business of Being a Birth Mom

7 Feb

 One day, you are going to ask the question that every parent fears – you’re going to ask about sex and it’s going to be terrifying because no matter how old you are, you’re going to be too young to be asking that question. Most likely either your mom, your dad or I will starting tripping over the “birds and the bees” metaphor or say that “when a man and woman love each other, it makes a baby!” Honestly, I will most likely change the subject entirely (“The sex talk? Don’t you want to play basketball instead? Yeah, let’s go play basketball!”)

However, aside from this one question (and a few iffy areas concerning Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny), I want to make you a promise: I will never lie to you. You can come to me with any questions you ever have, and I’m sure as you get older, you’ll have a lot of them. Currently, you’re barely learning to form sentences (you said your first, multi-word sentence on January 13th according to J, by the way) so I know questions are far off and this is very preemptive, but I’m a mom which means I like to worry way ahead of schedule. So  just for future reference…I will always be truthful to you.

Starting now.

So here’s is my first big truth I want you to know – being a birth mom is weird and I don’t always know what I’m doing. I don’t mean being your mother is weird…I just mean that it is weird to be your mother but not really get to be your mother. The B’s have raised you. You will grow up with their values in their home and I truly think that’s wonderful. They are beautiful people and both you and I couldn’t have been luckier in finding them. But since E and J are your parents, I feel the need to ask for permission before I do anything that involves you, and that’s odd to me sometimes. I get to see you and know you, but I don’t have any “mom-type power” and occasionally, that throws me off.

I told J all this about a week after you were born. I wrote her what had to be the world’s longest e-mail and I told her that even though she would be your mom, I would always feel like your mom; I was always so afraid that would make her uncomfortable. But she wrote me back and she told me that she understood the longing I had to be your mother and that she would never want to take that from me. She told me that you would always be mine and I would always be yours. She and your dad have gone above and beyond to keep that promise. I love them for that, and many, many other reasons. They are amazing parents and people, as I’m sure you’ll learn if you haven’t already.

Which brings me to truth number two: Our relationship is going to be unique, yours and mine. It probably won’t be “mother and son” but at the same time, there is no denying that is what we are. It’s going to be uncharted territory and though I’m excited to see where it goes, it makes me nervous sometimes. I find myself thinking, “I hope he likes me.” That may sound silly, but again, being a mother means worrying about everything, especially about whether or not you’re a good mother. So I hope my honesty is a step in the “good mothering” direction. Mostly, I want to be honest with you because I want you to really, truly know me. I want you to know all about me because I am going to learn everything I possibly can about you.

So here is what I think should happen: you should continue to be the happy, amazing little boy you are. I will continue to visit you and see you and play with you all the time, and we can grow up together. And one day, when we both become grown ups, we can be friends as well as family. The really good kind who get together and goof off or hang out; the kind who swap stories and ask questions and share fears and dreams. I want you to be able to tell me anything. I always want you to be able to count on me.

Just maybe not when you start asking sex questions ;)

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