Mini She

{Clara and me at our annual Valentine's Party.  

She was too fat for the Vintage '80s heart outfit of my babyhood but I squished her in anyway.}

I had a baby girl in September.  She is beautiful and calm and an absolute dream, really.  But she doesn't look a thing like me.  She came out with a thick head of dark hair.  And her face?  My husband says it is his sister's.  My dad says it is my Nana's.  Some say it is my mom's.  Some say it is my my mother-in-law's.  One day I dug up some old baby pictures at my mom's house.  "Don't you think this kind of looks like her, except with no hair?" I asked my husband.  "Sorry, honey.  Not at all."  I didn't really mind, of course.  Except for the part of me that always dreamed of a mini-me.  A little girl with a blonde bob who loved ballet class.  Shouldn't my daughter look like me and sort of be just like me?

Then one day, as I sat nursing her, oohing and ahhing over her wild curls and rosy cheeks, it hit me.  "She's not mini-me" I thought.  She isn't Anne part II, she is CLARA.  She is her own person.  She has her own look.  And she's going to have her own thoughts.  And her own interests.  And her own dreams.  Maybe she'll want to play softball instead of take ballet.  And maybe the excitement I felt singing and dancing on stage will be what she feels when she cozies up with a favorite book.

Her hair is lightening up.  And I have a suspicion she'll adopt a personality trait or two.  And certainly I pray I can teach her to be good and virtuous and hard-working and grateful and kind.  But I have to let her be her.

I can hardly wait to see who she becomes.

xo,
anne

Things I Want To Teach My Kids {Part II} by Bloom Guest Steph

A few months ago we introduced you to Steph of Modern Parents Messy Kids and shared the first half of a list of things she wants to teach her kids. Today we're sharing the second half of that list. Check it out and tell us what you're trying to teach your kids...

7. All Feelings Are OK
Have you heard of emotional coaching? It’s basically a parenting style that focuses on teaching children how to recognize and express their feelings. When I was a young child, I was very shy and fearful. To this day I’m not really sure why (my family was very supportive, open, and loving) but I do know that I want to do everything I can to prevent my own kids from feeling that way.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to change anyone’s personality or create super outgoing kids. It’s only been in the last 10 years or so that I’ve really come out of my own shell so if my kids turn out to be introverts, that’s fine by me. I just want to make sure they’re not missing out on life experiences due to fear.
A few months ago we introduced you to Steph of Modern Parents Messy Kids and shared the first half of a list of things she wants to teach her kids. Today we're sharing the second half of that list. Check it out and tell us what you're trying to teach your kids...

We’ve been weaving emotional coaching into our everyday life for the past year or so now and are pretty amazed by the results. Our 2 year old regularly identifies himself as being happy, sad, mad, and scared. Having this awareness seems to help him work through new and scary situations as well as tantrums. You can find out more about emotional coaching here.

8. I’m Worthy of Their Trust
From stranger danger and bullying to drugs and sex - I can think of about a million reasons I want my kids to trust me enough to talk to me. For me, building that trust now is about always doing my best to be as truthful as possible. Of course there are a lot of topics that I don’t particularly want to talk at length about with my 1 and 2 year olds. But if they ask me about something I try to answer them simply and directly (and then move on if it’s something I really don’t want to talk about yet!).

I also try really hard not to lie to them about the little things. It’s often tempting to head off an impending tantrum with a seemingly innocent lie, “We can’t get ice cream because the store’s closed”. The problem is kids catch on quick. If you get in the habit of fibbing to make things a little easier not only will the kids know, they’ll have less trust in you and what you say.

9. Mistakes are OK
This one goes back to my childhood again. As a shy kid I was always mortified when I messed up. I actually have a vivid memory of hiding under my covers as a preschooler after breaking a glass bowl I was using as a drum. When my parents found me they laughed but for some reason I was convinced I’d be in big trouble.

To teach my own kids that mistakes are OK, I make sure to let them know whenever I make one. It seems like several times a week I’ll spill something or forget something in front of them. When I do I always say something like, “Uh oh, Mommy spilled. Oh well, everybody makes mistakes”. This shows them that mistakes are just a part of life and they don’t have to be scared or embarrassed about messing up.

10. If at First You Don’t Succeed...
This goes hand in had with “mistakes are OK”. Giving your child permission to make mistakes gives them the confidence to keep trying when they’re confronted with adversity. Not everything in life is going to be easy. It’s our job as parents to let kids know that success isn’t about being perfect, it’s about continuing to try. (Side Note: For some excellent reading on this topic see the chapter “The Inverse Power of Praise” from the book Nurture Shock).

11. Saying No is OK
Last year my son’s toddler group hosted an excellent speaker on family safety, specifically protecting children from predators. Along with the usual tips about stranger danger, she also emphasized the importance of allowing children to say no. This applies to everyday situations as well as immanent danger.

She talked about teaching kids that they don’t always have to be polite. They don’t have to give hugs and kisses to anyone they don’t want to (family included) and they can always say no if an adult makes them feel uncomfortable. Her message of teaching kids to trust their gut, even at a very early age, really resonated with me.

In addition to being able to say no for safety, I also want to teach my kids not to be pleasers in general. As adults, we all know people like this. They regularly bend over backwards and over-commit themselves because they hate to disappoint. In reality we can’t do everything for everyone or even be friends with everyone. Somehow (and I’m not quite sure how) I want to show my kids that life is shaped by the people and activities you fill it with. It’s your responsibility to make sure you fill it up with positive and reciprocal relationships.

12. To Be Kind
This, of course, is the flip side of saying no. In a society where high self-esteem is regarded above all else, basic kindness can sometimes get overlooked. This one is all about walking the walk. You can tell your kids to be nice all day long but they’ll truly get the message when they see how you interact with people throughout your day together. Be courteous and friendly towards friends, neighbors, family, waiters, sales clerks, baristas, and families at the park. Smile and say “hi”, open doors for people, and let cars in your lane. Your kids will see your example as well as the positive reactions you get in return.

The Magic

Sorry friends, I promised pictures and more substantive thought on Thursday...but yesterday just didn't allow much, er...any time at the computer. So I'll share a few pics from our recent family reunion today and then I think it would be interesting to discuss extended family relationships and what it takes to promote unity and closeness in our families - little & immediate and large & extended.

Beachy Fun - sea shells and surfing and sand boarding - hooray!

The girls spent an afternoon in Seaside; we couldn't turn down a carousel ride

Rob & Ash after some chilly surfing Kate & Lil skippin' along the beach

Lunch at Bridgewater Bistro - so, so yummy.

That little sticker behind us said "Best Place to Kiss in the Northwest" - we had to try it out. It was a pretty good place to kiss :) (Rob & Ashley, sorry I didn't post your pic...I don't think you would have wanted me to ;)


Wednesday morning we went to see what all the hype's about at VooDoo donuts. There were certainly a lot of flavors - tang, neopolitan, fruit loop-crusted, cap'n crunch covered, memphis mafia (a fritter as big as your head that was COVERED with chocolate and all manner of icing). My review: It was an experience and the donuts were good, but I wouldn't go back. They were more fantastic to look at than they were to eat.


Now, let's chat about families. I would describe my family as extremely close and quite harmonious. Sure, we have our little squabbles and we each deal with challenges and heartaches in our individual lives, but when we get together, we get along swimmingly and we have a lot of fun. A lot! Sometimes I wonder if we're just a fortunate bunch with a lot of lucky chemistry or if our closeness is a result of choices my parents made, a culture they created, deliberate efforts we've made as siblings to grow and stay close to each other. I think maybe it's a bit of both.
We make the effort (and the pilgrimage) to be together for special occasions and events. We call each other on the phone. We celebrate each others victories and mourn each others disappointments. We try to protect each other, build each other up and encourage and counsel each other. One thing I think is super important is to let each person progress and be who they are today without holding them to what/who they were in the past. I know there are things I have made a mindful effort to change about myself and it is so painful to be reminded of those things or have them brought up as fodder in a family setting. It's something we've had to talk about as a family - protecting each other and not digging up old dirt or sharing stories that are hurtful or embarrassing.
Those are just a few things that come to mind when I start dissecting our family dynamics.
What about you and your family?

Do you enjoy time with your extended family? Is it harmonious and enjoyable?
What things does your family do to promote unity and closeness? Or what have you observed in other families?
What could your family do differently to promote those things in greater measure?
What about adding in-laws? How do you make them feel accepted and included? As an in-law yourself, how do you feel with your spouse's family? What makes you feel at ease and welcome? Is it hard to get comfortable and fit in? Why?


Discuss!

Have a great weekend!

Learning from regret

A lot of people say "No regrets!" like they really have no regrets in their life.

I just don't understand that.

Because I have regrets. Boy howdy, do I!

One of my biggest regrets is not getting it with my first baby.

I didn't get how fast he would grow. I didn't get how fleeting that time was. I didn't get how perfect he was. I didn't get how lucky I was.

I liked being a mom well enough and I knew it was important, but I didn't really get it.

With my second I started to get it more.

I enjoyed it more, I reveled longer. It began to define me.


Lately I like to sit in my chair of many colors to nurse Jared Carter. When he's sufficiently drunken with goodness, I put my feet up on my ottoman and sit him up to pat some burps out. I want to sit their all day. I want to squish his cheeks and make him smile. I want to make faces at him so he'll raise his expressive eyebrows at me. I want to tickle right between his ribs and his armpits to make him giggle uncontrollably. I want to pinch his fat tummy and poke at his cavernous belly button. And I want to kiss his neck 9 million times.

I could let the dishes pile up for weeks and let the big boys get muddy outside to their hearts' delight just to sit in that chair and love my squishy babe.

And I'll tell you what.

I would give anything to do the same with baby Blaine. It pains me to the core that I missed that with him.

I envy my friends who got it with their first.

I know it's all about hindsight and there's no point in dwelling on the past and I just need to love him now. But it still makes me sad.

'Cause this is the best.

Lemonade

"I have some lemons leftover from my baking, boys. Shall we juice them and make sorbet?"

"Oh, Mom! Instead can we make lemonade and sell it for money?" Blaine begged. "You said in the summer I could have a lemonade stand and it's finally a warm day!"

"OK, let's do it!" I agreed, as I plugged in the electric juicer. And we set to work. I carried a table and chairs out to the sidewalk and gathered plastic cups while Blaine and his brother, Roger squeezed out lemons with all their might. They worked long and hard for that lemon juice. I helped them mix in a hearty scoop of sugar and some water, created a sign as directed by Blaine, found them a pail to collect the money, and set them out on their first ever entrepreneurial venture.

As I watched them beckon to passing cars and helped them pour some cups for the neighborhood kids that stopped by on their bikes, I reveled in this perfect summer moment. I was enchanted by the magic of my boys' first lemonade stand, thrilled that the sun was finally here to stay, and--I dare say--a little proud of myself for going to the effort to make it happen. It was one of those moments.

After the bike gang left our pitcher empty, I helped Blaine stir up one last batch and carried it out to the table. "Remember, son," I warned, "if someone wants some lemonade, holler at me so I can pour it. We don't want it to spill!"

I wasn't even back in the house before I heard it. The pitcher of lemonade crashed down and all of the magic and pride of the moment with it. I ran outside to find Blaine in screaming tears over the spilled lemonade. I was filled with heartbreak and frustration all at once. "What happened, son?"

"Rog wanted some. I was trying to pour it and the lid fell off and it all spilled out!" he sobbed. "Oh, Blaine! I am so sorry about your lemonade. I wish you had listened to me, son. This wouldn't have happened if you had called me to pour it like I told you!"

Uuuuugggghhh. I was crushed. It tore me up inside that my son lost something he had worked so hard for. It killed me that it could have all been avoided if he had just trusted me and taken my advice.

As we hosed off the sticky sidewalk and lemonade stand together I thought to myself, "This was just spilled lemonade. What happens when he's sixteen and it's a car accident?" Just thinking about that felt like getting punched in the stomach.

But here's what it comes down to:

I can teach and I can warn. I can plead and I can encourage. I can set parameters and make rules. But in the end, I have to allow my children autonomy and agency. And, as much as it pains me, I have to let them feel the consequences of their actions.

As we dried off the table and brought the chairs in, I looked at Blaine and said, "Did you learn a lesson today?"

"Yes, Mom."

Oh how I hope he remembers it.

--anne

In My Heart

the little lady running at the all-comers track meet
and little Pierre, I mean Henry, all bundled up to take the recycling out in the rain

I go back and forth about how to blog (and sometimes about whether to blog at all). Sometimes I feel too guarded and private to share much of anything personal. Other times I feel like, "what's the point of sharing if it's not personal?"

Tonight I am feeling introspective.

Among other things, I am thinking about how absolutely precious my time with my children is. Having said that, I worry that you might get the wrong idea about my life as a mom - let me assure you, it is riddled with all the same kinds of frustrations that your mothering is filled with. My days with my children are not free of strife or conflict. We have plenty of both. This morning Henry unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to use the brown paper tube as a pirate scope and then ate a bowl of greasy noodles on the living room floor and left a trail of pasta shards and basil leaves on the carpet. Lily was extraordinarily uncooperative. And I was magnificently cross and condescending about all of it.

By noon my heart was heavy with sorrow and remorse. But we had company and plans and more company and more plans and I never really found a quiet moment to apologize for my impatience.

We were out late this evening visiting with family and didn't get home until after ten o'clock. When we got home both kids were tired, but still sweet. We brushed teeth and prayed and then, even though it was nearly eleven o'clock, I made both of them crawl up on the bed and snuggle with me. I needed to rub their skin and smell them and kiss them and tell them all the things I love about them. I needed to apologize for getting so upset about the toilet paper and the pasta. Sweet Henry looked up at me and said, "Wait...did that happen this morning? It feels like that was a couple days ago! This day was long!"

Some days are long, but time is racing. The phases are fleeting. It's only legos and backyard sleep-outs and princess slippers for so long. It hurts somewhere deep to think about this phase coming to an end. I know there will be joy in the next phases. Of course there will be. But this, what we have right here, now, is so full of wonder and creativity and discovery and joy and a hundred more shiny, good things. Sometimes I feel like no matter how present I try to be, I can never soak it up good enough. No matter how purposefully I try to live in these moments I will still reach back after them nostalgically when they're gone.

Life Is Perfect for None of Us...

Good morning, friends! It's good to be back here after our little blog break. Anne and I are still catching up on life and laundry. We have stories to tell you and thoughts to share, but today Ms. Abbie is going to do the talking. She's sharing something important and thought-provoking in her spunky, delightful, genuine way.
We'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter, too...

“Life is perfect for none of us. Rather than being judgmental and critical of each other, may we have [love] for our fellow travelers in this journey through life. May we recognize that each one is doing her best to deal with the challenges which come her way, and may we strive to do our best to help out.”

This is what I’ve had on my mind. It’s ridiculous how often I’m tempted to judge someone before I have all the facts. Do you struggle with this too? I have a sneaking suspicion that some of you might because I’ve been chatting with some friends and we’ve found that it’s something a lot of us are working to overcome.

Lately I’ve been trying to turn off the auto-judge in my brain because HELLO! we're all in this together! We’re all women trying to do our best. We all know our personal weaknesses and we don’t feel like being judged for those times when we do things differently or fall short or completely biff it. Then why do we judge others?

So, Bloomers, I’m asking: How can we stop judging and criticizing each other? And can we start our own mini No Judgment revolution? Can we all try to be a bit nicer to each other and give each other the benefit of the doubt? We’re all different, but aren’t we all kind of the same? I mean, we're sharing the same human experience. Wouldn’t it be great if we had a bunch of people cheering us on as we cheer them on?

I think Mother Theresa was right, “When you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

Let’s just love. Yes? YES!

Just a thought… :)

p.s. quotes coming from this talk.
p.p.s. raise your hand if you're in love with hydrangeas!

Nest Building

image

read this poem, will you? and tell me, do you love it as much as i do?

On Nest Building
Carol Lynn Pearson

Mud is not bad for nest building.
Mud and sticks.
And a fallen feather or two will do
And require no reaching.
I could rest there with my tiny ones
Sound for the season, at least.

But
If I may fly a while--
If I may cut through a sunset going out
And a rainbow coming back
Color upon color sealed in my eyes--
If I may have the unboundaried skies
For my study
Clouds, cities, rivers for my rooms--
If I may search the centuries
For melody and meaning--
If I may try for the sun--

I shall come back
Bearing such beauties
Gleaned from God's and the world's very best.
I shall come filled.

And then--
Oh, the nest I can build!


i adore it. i've been thinking about it a lot lately. some of us fight the urge to do too much, be too many places, pursue too many interests. others of us are so very content just to stay put in our nests that we miss chances to enrich and enlarge ourselves; we don't hear the melodies or see the rainbows and the people in our nests miss the trickle down of that beauty. i identify more with the latter. the flying and searching require a lot of effort. (and a babysitter.) so lots of times i just coast, complacent. and quite content. and mostly i think that's just fine, a gift even. but every so often i feel my soul tapping, nudging me to nurture the me that exists outside of my husband and my children. knowing that the more there is of me, the more there is for them.

and i want a nest full of sunlight and melody.

- em

do you feel this?
what do you do for you?

I'm even managing not to have a third-life crisis

When my birthday is approaching I tend to think big. I dream of having my own sewing machine, receiving a gorgeous new necklace, or being surprised with a mint green cruiser. I picture myself cruising around the neighborhood on said bike, my hair blowing behind me, showing the world that 30 is still young.

{feel free to roll your eyes.}

But once the day actually comes (it's here! I'm 30 today!), I find myself far more content, and my dream wish list sort of just disintegrates. I'm happy to sleep in, nurse the baby in bed, and welcome the older two boys--pajama-clad and bed-hedded--to join our snuggle when they come downstairs. I'm content to work on laundry and wipe counters and plan a park outing. (And break up fights and clean up spills and wipe away tears.) I'm thrilled to have a mellow day to just marinate in my life.

Seven years ago this month I completed my eighteen month stint as a Mormon missionary. I came home, started dating my best friend, and got engaged within six weeks. I remember one night, after returning home from a date with Taylor, I burst into tears, picked up the phone, and dialed his number. It went to voice mail. After the beep I blurted out, in between sobs, "I just want to say that I'm so happy! All I ever wanted to do in my whole life was be a missionary and marry Taylor Cropper! I can't believe I got what I wanted! I am so grateful!"

And it just keeps getting better and better.

Who needs a wish list?




Not me.

xoxo,
anne

We're all in this together

{Lucy T. holds baby Carter after showing me her collection of bug drawings and performing at least a dozen cartwheels}

A few weeks ago I dropped everything and flew (with the babe, of course) to Utah. Although I always feel strange leaving my children, I knew they were in the capable and loving arms of my husband, my parents, my husband's parents, and even several aunties (we recognize how lucky we are), so I decided to revel in the opportunity to visit a place I love and many people I adore, all while having lots of time just for holding and feeding my baby.

A lot of things about the trip stand out. The way I couldn't stop grinning as I walked through the Salt Lake airport. How elated I felt driving up University Parkway and through the tree streets. How lovingly I sat in Grandma's home--the home I lived in as a newlywed, the home I brought two babies home to. How fun and free I felt as my SIL Sara and I shopped and worked on wedding plans and watched chick flicks late into the night.

But what has stuck with me most following the trip were some observations I made as I visited my friends.

Observation no. 1: Your children are precious.

In the absence of my boys, I had unprecedented time and attention to give to my friend's children. I held them and beheld them. I watched Lucy T victoriously jump rope across the back patio. I smiled and cheered when she was successful and felt her frustration when the rope got caught up in her dress. I smiled as I watched Spencer--just up from a nap--rest his ruffled little head lovingly on his mother's chest. I marveled as Bronx and Bo (so grown up!) served me lunch so darlingly ("Would you like another sandwich, Anne? How about some ice water?"). I held Avery and became so enchanted with her one-of-a-kind personality that I found myself asking her to pray down a little girl just like her for me. I wanted to eat Ollie's big baby cheeks. Lucy B. dazzled me with her curliest of all hair and Disney princess eyes. Her brother Charlie charmed me with his blonde locks, glasses, and coy grin. I sat on the couch with Claire and felt my jaw drop as she (who just turned 4!) read me a book well beyond her years. I held her brother Charlie, with the best round face I ever saw, and wanted to sneak him home in my suitcase. I watched Elinor and John chase each other around their living room and wished for the same energy and free-wheeling exuberance.

I loved every breath of it.

Observation no. 2: We're all in this together.

Without fail, apologies were made in every one of my friend's homes. "Sorry my house is such a mess." "I guess I should have combed her hair!" "Go ahead and use the bathroom; no promises as to how it looks!" "I'm Sorry he's acting like this!" They were the same apologies I make every single day. And it made me think, we don't need to apologize to each other. We're all about the same work. We all have messier than we prefer homes, occasionally whiny or sassy children, and some level of general bedlam in our lives. That's the way it is. No explanations or apologies necessary.


I came home renewed and ready to behold my little ones. (Nothing like a little vacation to fill you up with energy and patience!) I'm trying not to focus on the spilled chocolate chips and the screaming fights over legos and the potty training regression. I'm trying instead to see the tiny freckles across Blaine's cheeks and the way Roger moves his chubby little hands. I'm trying not to get so hot and bothered as I wipe up the kitchen floor seven times a day, but just be glad I have little ones eating at my table.

xoxo,
anne

p.s. One of the most awesome things I did in Utah? Appear on local TV. (I think I hear QVC calling...) {cue laughter}

Birth Stories by Bloom guest Kate

Good morning, friends! Today we are thrilled to have Kate back, sharing her childrens' birth stories. If you're just tuning in, catch up with Kate's whole adoption series here, here, and here.

Charlie's Birth Story

Before we received the email from Charlie's birth mother, we had been getting a few emails here and there from other birth mothers as well. I can't describe it other then when Mark and I read Charlie's birth mother's email we just knew. We saw a picture of her right after we read it and it was the most memorable, real feeling of calm that I have ever felt in my life. We didn't jump for joy, we just looked at each other and didn't say much other then, "this is her, she is going to place her baby in our family."

Before she officially chose us we had to meet her. But we weren't the only ones. She was also meeting with another couple that day. Talk about NERVE racking! A first impression never meant so much. Later we found out we were the first couple she met with and from her perspective (and ours as well) there was just an instant connection. We left the meeting feeling pretty good, but it could have gone either way and the nerves were almost unbearable. She told us a few days later to meet her at a park with her mom, that she had a few more questions for us. Ahhh! seriously! So of course we went, nervous as can be. And instead she surprised us with a basket full of baby stuff and an ultra sound picture telling us we were the ones she was looking for. Of course I instantly started crying and shaking and hugging. But could that have been any cuter! She is so wonderful!

We were lucky that she picked us fairly early in her pregnancy. We got the experience of going to some doctor appointments with her, even the one where we found out she was having a boy, and we were going to have a son. We got the unique experience of meeting her family and hanging out with her on several occasions. This is what she wanted as part of her birth plan. Getting to know us before the placement. And we are so grateful for that time too.

Then we all just waited for the big day. When it finally arrived it was unexpected (at least for us). It was 3 weeks before her due date and she called me in the morning saying she was scheduled to have him and 5pm. At the time we lived a 4 hour drive away so we had to hustle! I was so frantic. I packed like a mad woman trying my hardest not to forget anything and we sped out of town. Once we got to the city we even drove in the carpool lane illegally (driving separate cars) just to make it to the hospital in time. We arrive pretty much at 5 on the dot. Ran in and were rushed to her side. We didn't have that much time with her as the whisked her away to the operating room. Her mother and I were allowed in there with her, while Mark had to wait outside. We got on our white space suit looking outfits and after they had her comfortably on the table we went in. I was on one side and her mom was on the other. I tried to balance equally telling Charlie's birth mother how great she was doing and peeking over the drape to see the first glance of Charlie. His bum came first. The tiniest, cutest bum I'd ever laid eyes on. And then as quick as that he was out and rushed over to the nurses. After they cleaned him up Charlie's birth mother's mom was dear enough to let me hold him very first. I showed him to his birth mom, and after oohing and awing over him for a few minutes he needed to go to the nursery.

I went with my gorgeous new son. First we showed him off to his dad and we followed him to the nursery. We watched the bath and monitoring and all the stuff they do there. He had some problems breathing and lions couldn't have torn me away from his side. We had to eventually leave him for the night. Really hard.

We spent the next 2 days in the hospital with our mom's and our birth mother's family. Charlie's birth mother was amazing. She'd let me change his diaper, feed him, burp him. I'd give him to her to do the same. She said all she wanted was to see Charlie with his mom and dad. The strength she showed was amazing. She was super-human during those days. I'm not sure many people could have the strength birth mothers have. It is awe-inspiring.

The time finally came for paperwork to be signed. We were all anxious to say the least. She took some time with Charlie before it happened, we waited nervously in the waiting room. To say we had all fallen head over heals for Charlie would be a gross understatement. All I could think about was what Charlie's birth mother was about to do. And I didn't know how she was going to do it. I just cried for her. Then she wanted us to be in the room while she signed her paperwork. Maybe to give her strength? Mark and I were both crying so I'm not sure how we helped the situation. Her mom was crying, the caseworker was tearing up but Charlie's birth mother was solid as a rock. She signed with ever ounce of bravery and strength she could muster. The thought of it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. She was (is) an angel. Our angel. No other way to put it.

We walked away from that hospital different people. The experience of Charlie's placement changed us. It is an experience not many get to have. We were placed with the responsibility of raising, caring for and loving this 6 pound 7 ounce baby boy that was literally placed in our arms by a loving mother who only wanted more then she was able to give. A mother who loved him so much she gave him to us. A love far greater then I have ever witnessed. I often think it is nearest to the love the Savior has for His children as he sends us to earth.

Adoption is part of our Saviors plan. I know that Charlie needed to come to our family. Of course he would have been dearly loved by his birth family, but for reasons unknown entirely to us on earth, he was placed with us. And by divine powers they are made ours for eternity in the temple.

Charlie is perfect in every way. We couldn't love another baby more. And we adore how unique and love-filled his birth story is.

Lucy's Birth Story

Around March Mark and I were starting to think it was time again to put our papers in for another baby. I worked pretty quickly on the long list of items needing to be done in order for us to be "approved" to adopt. I sewed our next birth mother's quilt. I thought about whether she was pregnant or not. I wondered how she was feeling, what her life was like, what the circumstances were that surrounded her pregnancy. I was getting into that zone, starting to connect with the baby that was out there for our family. My version of pregnancy. We initially started and got approved through LDSFS. But after only a few months with them Mark and I felt strongly that we needed to look into a different agency. Our next baby wasn't going to come through LDSFS. After several phone calls, lots of internet research, and a visit to a couple agencies we settled on one that thought was the best fit for us. We had faith that our next birth mother was or would be working with this agency.

About a month and a half after getting approved with our new agency we got a call that we had been matched to a potential birth mother. They told us all about her, we talked it over, we said yes to them showing her our profile and we waited. We knew that the little girl was to be born in 8 days, we waited to find out if we were to be the family. The very next day they called and said she instantly chose us without hesitation! And then it hit me, we were about to be parents again in 7 days. I'm not sure I stopped moving for 4 days after I heard the news I was so excited and nervous!

The day before Lucy was born I was running errands with my mother-in-law. She arrived that Monday morning and I couldn't have been more thrilled about it. We did the grocery shopping and other errands I'm sure... I just can't remember now. I had put off the grocery shopping the whole week before and we were left with condiments, peanut butter, and cilantro in our fridge. Our pantry was equally empty. It was a scary place for Mark to be. I don't remember much about that day except thinking it was crazy that our daughter would be born the next day.

Tuesday Mark and I woke up early and went to the Temple to do a session together. Our very first together all year (we've been alternating and going alone all year) and it was nice to be there with each other. We were home by 8:45am and we just needed to keep ourselves busy until we received the phone call from our case worker that we should head to the hospital. So Mark got on the treadmill but my nerves wouldn't have kept me walking on that treadmill for more than five seconds, so I jumped in the shower and got all ready to go.

By eleven we hadn't heard anything so we called our caseworker, Cindy, to get an update. She said that our birth mother had just gotten her epidural and that she'd probably be calling us in an hour to and hour and a half to start heading up. I asked what we should bring and then we hung up. Not a minute later my phone rang and Cindy said she had just heard from our birth mother's caseworker and that she was dilated to a 9 and that we'd better head up right away. In the minute between the two phone calls we decided that we'd go get some flowers and a little something to give our birth mother when we saw her but then our plans had to change when suddenly we were rushing to get our bodies out the door. Armed with some homemade peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, our camera and kisses from Charlie we headed out the door. As we rushed down the street we thought we really should have a bundle of flowers to give to Lucy's birth mother. So... on our way north we stopped at Costco and grabbed a pretty purple bouquet that smelled and looked beautiful.

When we were about ten minutes away we got a text from Cindy that read, "she's pushing" and we stepped on the gas. Even though the plan never was to be in the delivery room we still felt like we needed to hurry! When we got there we met up with our case worker and waited until we could go in. By 12:30pm we were given the ok to go in and meet both our little girl and her birth mother.

It was kind of a surreal situation. Our birth mother looked so good after just giving birth I wondered if she really was pregnant! Lucy was laying on the foot of the bed and we immediately went over and took a peek. She was teeny tiny! It was a delicate balance of oooing and awwing over the baby and doing the same over our birth mom (with 4 other people in the room watching us!) This was our first time meeting her and even though it was a little awkward at first I think we did a pretty good job. We weren't in there for long before they needed to move her to a different room. In that first 30 minutes we spent with Lucy's birth mom we could tell she was a easy going, laid back person with such a sweet personality. Honestly I was amazed with how she reacted to the whole situation. We could tell this was very difficult for her, but once she knew what she needed to do, she did it with as pleasant of an attitude that I'd ever seen. Something I hope Lucy inherits!

After some shuffling around they moved our birth mom and we got to spend a couple hours with Lucy in the nursery doing all the fun stuff like watching the first bath. This adoption was SO different from Charlie's. Not bad, just different. We stared at her, held her, took pictures of her, held her hand, watched as the nurses worked on improving her breathing. It was all so surreal. She was going to be ours. Our little girl. We didn't know nearly what we knew of Charlie's birth family. It had happened so much faster but with no less excitement. After a couple hours with our baby, we got the word from our caseworker that our birth mom wanted to spend some time with Lucy and since she couldn't leave the nursery we had to leave so she could come. Which we were fine with since we knew this would be the only night she would have with Lucy girl. So we went home to be with Charlie and waited. I did call the nursery to get an update on how she was doing around 11pm since she was having some issues but there wasn't much else we could do but wait. And I hoped that our birth mom was spending some quality time with her that night. Loving every minute she had with her. I wanted that for her as much as I wanted it for Lucy.

The next morning we were told she was going to sign her paper work around noon and we couldn't believe it! You see, in Utah, once the papers are signed she can't change her mind and with Charlie the process was sort of drawn out and very dramatic. But with this adoption it was just standard that papers are signed as close to 24 hours after birth as possible. So imagine our surprise and relief when it really happened that way! We showed up at the hospital about 12:30pm and waited in the waiting room while she signed, then the caseworkers came out to where we were and helped us sign. And by about 1:30 it was done. It was official, she was ours. Wow. I still can't believe how smoothly everything went!

That day our birth mom was scheduled to be discharged and so we hung out in her room with her while she waited. It took them forever to get her discharged which I'm glad about now because it gave us some extra time with her. Some time to get to know her a little bit more. Some time for her to hold Lucy some more. And so we waited and chatted and held Lucy and took a picture. And then they let her go. And we knew we'd see her the next day. And as she left I could tell it was difficult for her. How could it not be. And Mark and I kind of looked at each other with teary eyes. And even though she didn't cry and we didn't cry we just knew how hard this was.

And then we spent the rest of the night in our own room (on those awful hospital beds). But still loving every second of our alone time with Lucy. Since Charlie is only two he wasn't allowed in the maternity ward (being a germ magnet and all). We did go out to dinner with him and Lynn during the hour that Lucy had to be in the nursery during shift change (at which time we told them her name was Lucy and they could now make her a name tag for her bed). And it was then I realized I missed my baby but I didn't want to leave my toddler. And I had two children. But of course he was in very capable hands with Lynn that night so we went back and retrieved our baby from the nursery. And on her little bed was a Halloweeny Lucy tag.

The next morning we were discharged and off we went to meet up with our birth mom for lunch and then home bound we were. Later we met with her one last time so she could hold Lucy for the last time. And the very thought of it makes me teary. We went to spend about an hour with her and as soon as we got there we handed over Lucy. Lucy knew her right away. And as Lucy lay on her chest for that hour she was calm and sleeping. We let her have some time to herself to cuddle and be with Lucy. Mark and I took a walk down the street. It took every fiber of my being to leave and walk away for the few minutes that we did, but I knew Lucy's birth mother needed that time. And we were happy to give it to her. After all, look what she was giving us. And after we said our final goodbyes and were driving away Mark and I were silent in the car. It wasn't until that moment that I cried. I cried for this girl whose life has been anything but perfect. Partly as a result of her own choices but I know partly from choices out of her control. And although of course I was grateful that we are privileged to give Lucy the life we will give her, I couldn't help but wish I could help give her birth mother a little better too. But instead I knew that would most likely be the last time I'd ever see her. But I was given a part of her and so she was a part of us - through Lucy. I think I'll stop trying to explain how it feels, because I'm not sure you can know unless you are given a baby. It's an amazing experience. It's happy, and it's sad, it's joyful, and there are parts that pull on heart strings you didn't know you had.

And you know the rest. We got home and Charlie was thrilled to have a baby sister and we were thrilled (and shocked) we had another baby.

Each of our children's stories are different but they are equally amazing in how they came to be part of our family. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Solve and Resolve

My favorite from J. Kirk Richards' inspiring series

Wednesday morning text message to Taylor:

Thank your coworkers for not pooing on the carpet

'Cause one of my coworkers--Roger to be exact--had just had an accident, which he proceeded to step in and track all over the upstairs.

Awesome.

This was just a day or two after Blaine had dumped a third of a gallon of milk out on the kitchen counter and floor and just a few hours before both boys made major mischief in my sewing stuff.

{This is where my mom asks, 'Well what were they doing out of your sight?' and I reply, 'I have to go to the bathroom and take showers and help the baby sometimes! Give me a break!}

By Wednesday evening I came unglued. "I hate my job!" I ranted to Taylor. "I can't get anything done around here because they mess things up faster than I can clean them. And they absolutely never listen to me. Never!"

"Dear, can you please use a softer voice and fewer superlatives?" Taylor calmly asked.

"No! I'm mad! And they aren't superlatives! They're true!" I barked back, irrational as ever. "I just don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!"

It wasn't until the next morning that I had laughed at myself a little, calmed down a lot, and decided that it was time to come up with some solutions.

I grew up with a mother who always said, "Every problem has a solution." She chanted that mantra to me all my life and now I repeat it to my own children.

My sister, Liz, once told me: "It doesn't make sense for us mothers to throw our hands up and say 'I give up on this problem.' What if I had a corporate job? When something hard came up would I just sulk and tell the boss 'I quit?' Never! I would go back to my office and figure out a solution! Mothering is my job. When I meet a challenge, I have to find a way to make it better."

Thursday morning email to Taylor:

I am working on some solutions. Like I am going to keep the baby's room (where the sewing stuff is kept) and upstairs bathroom (where much water mischief takes place)locked. And I am going to try to nurse upstairs so the kids can play and I can see them.

The other part of the solution is for me to a) stop having a panic attack every 5 minutes that my house doesn't look perfect b) remind myself that they are 3 and 4 years old and c) find the power to control myself and stop all the ranting and raving.

So anyway, those are my goals. I don't hate my job. Not at all. I love it. I like it. I reverence it.

In fact, it was the image at the top of this post that motivated my penance. I saw it Thursday morning and the reverence flooded over me.

--anne

This is Why I am Here by Bloom guest Kari

A few weeks ago I sat tired, pregnant, and overwhelmed as my friend, Kari, taught the teenage girls in our church congregation about finding purpose in our lives. As she told the girls this story I wept as I remembered what really matters. I thought maybe it would help you, too.
--anne
Wow...I feel famous, I'm on Bloom!

Recently, I taught a lesson to the Young Women at church. The lesson was titled 'Our Purpose in Life'. I shared with the girls an experience I had the two days before:

Friday afternoon my husband left town to go camping with the scouts. I had a fun weekend planned with my three children which included popcorn, candy, movies and a sleep-over in the living room.

But.

Not long after my husband left I discovered that my bathroom was flooding; the toilet had a leak!

Previously, I promised my husband I would do his farm chores. So the next morning off I went. It happened to be snowing as I drove to the farm across town and I thought I could get to the barn despite all the mud. I was wrong, I got my van stuck in the mud! The chores still needed to be done, though. I could easily see the van from the barn, so I left my kids in the warmth and fed the animals. I could hear my kids screaming as I opened the door to the van. The first thing I saw was blood! My sons had gotten in a fight and my older son scratched my younger son's face (he had just gotten stitches out of his forehead earlier that week and his fresh scab was scratched off as well).

I closed the door and tears filled my eyes. I thought to myself: is this why I'm here, to deal with things like leaky toilets, muddy cars and messy faces? After I whimpered a quick prayer, I knew that that is ABSOLUTELY why I'm here!

Because of these unfortunate events, I was able to become a better mother. That weekend, I was able to be an example to my children as I stayed calm and found a way to stop my toilet from leaking and get help for my stuck van. I had the opportunity to teach my children as we talked about alternatives to fighting and hitting. I was able to nurture my children as I cleaned my son's wounds.

I know what my purpose is. It's to be a good mother!

Now We Are Six...

Henry turned six last weekend. Yesterday I shared some of my feelings about the celebration; today I'd like to share some of my feelings about the boy. And our six years as mother and child. The feeling that settles in heavier every year is how incredibly precious and beautiful this time with small children is. And how terribly quickly it flies by. For those of you who read my personal blog, I'm sorry for the deja vu. For the rest of you, I hope you'll forgive me for getting extra personal. This is a letter I wrote to Henry a few nights ago in a pocket of quiet after the children had gone to bed...

Dear Henry,

Six years. Six years and nine days, actually. Plenty of time to get to know a fellow. And fall in love with him, too. Which is exactly what has happened. Love at first sight I thought when they lifted you up over that sterile blue sheet in the operating room. And it was. But only a tiny, flickering hint of what I feel now - this swelling, throbbing, beaming affection that always threatens to o'er step its bounds, to annex another chamber or organ because the heart feels so limiting and cramped.

Even with such tremendous love, I know I am not doing everything right, Henry. Today, for instance, when you cried and carried on in the school parking lot because you didn't want to go inside...I didn't know what to do. I alternated between tough love and marshmallow mom. Reading is hard. And the bathrooms are stinky. You made some compelling arguments through your crocodile tears. Part of me wanted to just take you back home; if we're being totally honest, that's where I'd prefer you to be. But part of me wanted to give you a swift kick in the pants and tell you to stop being ridiculous. At some point during our emotional exchange, the rational part of me surfaced and I knew that I needed to walk you into that classroom and let you prove to yourself that you can do hard things. You finally agreed to go in. I watched through the window as you hung up your back pack and headed to the reading table. My heart hung heavy in my chest; moments like these are precisely why I have such a hard time watching you grow up, why I wish it could just be Woody-n-Buzz and juice boxes forever. I know that growth presupposes hard-ness and pain. And I'm just getting to the point where I don't fear those things so much for myself. I'm not to the place where I can accept them for my children very easily. My first inclination is always to make an easier way for you, a path of less resistance. But I know that ultimately you need the opposition. It's like fertilizer for your little character. I have to remind myself that what I ultimately want is for you to be confident, brave, strong, understanding, deep, grateful, conscientious...and all those traits grow best in soils of adversity and challenge. I remind myself that God let Adam and Eve choose for themselves, He let them experience the lone and dreary world, and eat their bread by the sweat of their brow.

But boy do I want to make sure there are plenty of soft assurances, warm respites, and sweet indulgences along the way. I couldn't wait to pick you up from school today. Knowing it might have been a hard day, I tucked your blankie under my arm on my way out the door. You're usually only allowed to have it in bed, but I thought a hard day at school warranted an exception to the family policy. Your eyes sparkled when I handed it to you in the back seat. You pulled it up near your face, rubbed it under your nose and sucked your thumb. I watched your shoulders fall in total relief; I knew just how you felt - 100% safe. I used to feel the same way when I walked through the front door after school. Mimi (my mom) was good at comfort-making, the best really. I hope it's a skill I inherited. I want your little soul to feel completely at ease - safe and warm and loved when you're at home, Henry. Because it is. And you are.

I borrowed the title of this post from a favorite A.A. Milne poem. The last lines say:

But now I am Six,
I'm as clever as clever,
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

You are so clever! It's one of the most delightful things about you. The other day dad and I were talking to you about safety, being cautious of strangers, not going into peoples' homes or backyards without our permission. We felt good about what we'd taught you but just to make sure it had all sunk in, Dad posed one last scenario to you:

What if you were out riding your bike and a stranger pulled over in their car and asked you to come over to them and they had a piece of candy. And they said, can you come over here and help me with something...I'll give you this piece of candy. What would you do?
You had to think about that for a while. You furrowed your brow in concentration. And then you said, Well, I'd tell them, 'I don't want to come over there by your car...but why don't you toss me that piece of candy?' We got such a kick out of that! We thought you were so clever to come up with a way to stay safe and get the candy :)

Like I said earlier, Henry...we both know I'm not doing everything right, but I love you. Sometimes it's hard as a parent to know how much to push, how to respond to bad behavior, how to discipline, how to teach...but love is easy. I don't have to think about it. I don't have to try. It's just there, in abundance. One heart hardly seems room enough to hold it all.

Happy six, darling boy. What do you say we just stay here for ever and ever?

I adore you,
Mom

Adoption

Good morning, friends! It's our treat to have Kate back with another installment in her series about infertility and adoption. {You can find the first two posts in this series here and here.}

Me and my Lucy girl (2 weeks old)

If you've decided adoption is for you you'll want to choose an agency! We adopted our son through LDS Family Services. An agency/service our church offers. In order to adopt through them, you need to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The nice thing about this agency is that it's pretty affordable as far as adoptions go since the Church helps subsidize some of the cost for members. I'm not sure of their exact current prices. I heard they may have gone up a bit, but I'm not positive. Even if they did, it's still a very affordable option. The down side with LDSFS is that there are A LOT of potential adoptive parents hoping to get chosen and a much lower number of actual placements that happen per year.

When we were in the process with Charlie's adoption our councilor told me this, "Last year the Utah agencies did about 60 placements and at that same time we had about 800-1000 adoption couples waiting. Utah does more placements then any other state." Doing the math, your odds of being chosen quickly aren't great. It can happen, and I've heard of it, but the case workers will tell you the "average" wait period there adoptive couples are experiencing at that particular time. Maybe their placement numbers have improved but I have to believe that they also have even more adoptive couples as well. We waited 2 years for from completion of paperwork to our son's birth.

We actually started out with LDSFS the second time around, completing our home study with them. (there is a $1000 non-refundable fee for this at LDSFS) Then a few months in we just really felt our next baby wouldn't come through them, and we knew we weren't willing to wait another 2 years. In the 3 or 4 months we were approved through LDSFS we didn't have any bites, so to say. Our next move was to find a private agency we wanted to work with. Someone once told me to choose one based on how the agency makes you feel. We personally visited with a couple in our area, and chose one we thought was a good fit for us. We chose Heart to Heart Adoptions if anyone is interested. We absolutely LOVED our experience with them. And you don't have to be a Utah resident to work with them! If you don't happen to have a local private agency you can work with you can talk to some on the phone in other states and choose one that way.

Here are the biggest differences we experienced with our private agency compared to LDSFS that we really liked:

1. They keep their number of adoptions to approved adoptive parent ratio about the same. 100 placements, about 100 adoptive parents (these were the numbers they gave us when we were placed with Lucy). This GREATLY improves your chances of being chosen quickly. We were approved and had Lucy within a month and 3 weeks!

2. They do a matching system which I think is key! Meaning this: the agency matches you with potential birth mothers according to your criteria. The broader your criteria, the more likely you will be presented. They let you know each time they present your profile, getting your approval. So when we were matched with Lucy's birth mother, we were among 5 other profiles that she considered (the only profiles she considered). LDS sort of does the same does the same thing, their caseworker will pull potential profiles of couples that she thinks the birth mother will like, but their birth mother's are also given access to all the profiles on the LDSFS website which I can only imagine makes choosing a family that much more difficult! In our observation, our private agency treated this process much more professionally which impressed us.

3. Our private agency generally has birth mothers wait until pretty far along in their pregnancy to choose a couple. This has it's advantages. Our agency has found a higher success rate of follow through because of this. I think LDSFS encourages this, but not always. Charlie's birth mother chose us very early in her pregnancy, which worked out well for us, but that might not always be the case.

4. With our private agency we always had a case worker working for us and our birth mother always had a case worker for her during the placement. This was a big difference between our two adoptions. I'm not saying this wouldn't be the case for you if you chose LDSFS, but it wasn't our experience. Oftentimes the case worker would work both sides. It was SO reassuring to know we had someone strictly for our needs during the tender/delicate moments.

5. Our private agency placed expectations on the communication post placement. This can be HUGE to both adoptive parent's and birth parent's stress levels. With LDSFS we were told that we needed to work out what kind of post placement communication we wanted with our birth mother. We were mostly clueless since we'd never adopted before! We didn't know what to do. We did have a general idea of what we wanted it to look like, but it was hard to navigate. Usually what we found was that birth mother's wanted way more openness then we did. With Heart to Heart they told us what they expect which meant that is what the birth mother was expecting! Everyone was on the same page from the beginning which really made it all a lot smoother! It was much more closed of a situation with Lucy's adoption, though still sort of open. I'll talk about this in a later post.

6. If you are placed in the State of Utah, you will generally sign papers 24 hours after the child is born. In any other state the placement will be subject to the laws of that state. Our son's placement also took place in Utah, but this was not the case in his adoption. Heart to Heart just made things happen seamlessly. Along these same lines, you will want to educate yourself about the laws in your state or the state in which you will be getting your baby. I know of some states where the laws just aren't favorable and it makes finalization difficult to say the least.

Both agencies will handle the legal paperwork for the actual placement. Providing a caseworker and a notary.

The down side to a private agency as opposed to LDSFS is obviously the price. It's much, much more expensive. So it's hard to say I recommend it because I know not everyone can afford it. You can have very good success with LDSFS! But if I had to give you my honest opinion based on our experience, we preferred working with a private agency.

With LDSFS the things we loved were:

1. Since our birth mother was of our same faith, we had that in common with each other. She had a much better idea of how Charlie would be raised since she knew it would be similar to her upbringing. And as a result I feel much, much closer to Charlie's birth mother then I do to our daughters. I really do value our relationship and am excited to hear and get to know what is happening in her life since we keep in touch. We had the chance to spend lots of time with her before the placement. This would have never happened with our private agency because they run things differently. We had very little time with Lucy's birth mother.

2. Since it was our first adoption and my emotions were fairly tender it was also really comforting to have case workers that shared my same faith. You may not feel this is necessary for you and that's ok, but for me it was really helpful in the transition to not having biological children to adopting. It's a big step and it can take a little bit for your mind to shift about the idea of how you are getting your babies. If you choose to go private or just need someone to talk to LDSFS offers counseling.

3. And obviously we did love how affordable it was. You can't put a price on a baby of course, but it is nice when it doesn't put you in the poor house either. Let's be honest, being infertile is expensive!

If you have more questions about the differences you can email me (kathrynkate@gmail.com). There is more I could say but I don't want to go more into it here, mostly because I feel like this post is sort of long and boring to most! And I didn't really have the intention of making it one agency vs. another. They are both great. We just had two totally different experiences.

Mark and Charlie boy at the hospital

Moving on. Once you've chosen an agency they'll direct you in what you need to do next. They'll complete a homestudy for you and get you approved. One thing I will tell you is once you get all your paperwork completed you'll wonder why it's not a requirement for all parents to prove they are fit in order to get pregnant! But then how would we get our wonderful children!?

If you're worried about the cost of adoption I've seen a few things online that indicate there is a way you can fundraise to prepare. We've never tried it but I know it's happening. People are doing it. I bet you'd be surprise how many people would be willing to help. I googled "adoption fundraising" and found some informational sites. Don't give up! You can have a beautiful family!

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I'm working on a Q and A post. I'm trying to incorporate some questions you've had into my posts and the others I'll just answer directly. If you have specific questions about the types of agencies I've mentioned or the process you can leave it in the comment section and I'll be sure to come back and answer there or like I said above, email me. Everything I've shared is from our experiences, others may have different experiences. International adoption is another option you can pursue that I don't know much about.

Next I'm going to post my children's birth stories and then I'll be moving on to birth parent relationships after that!