The Frame

In 2009, I bought a "Santa&Me" frame in my expectant mother glow.  The following Christmas, that empty frame broke the dam on some emotions I had bottled up, and it wasn't pretty. 

This year I filled that frame with an epic "Santa&Me" picture of Little Bro and his BFF.  I smiled so wide it nearly hurt every time I saw those two frames proudly displayed. And today, I smiled peacefully as I packed up the rest of my Christmas stuff, because I packed away not two, but three frames.

Little Miss needs a picture frame to match her oppas, naturally.

I don't know when that frame will make it out of the wrapping, but I can guarantee it won't be this coming year or even the next.  And that timing is what is ideal for our family, so the Christmas futures where that frame will be tucked safely away don't make me sad in the slightest.

But the fact is, Little Miss is in my heart in a way she has never been before. She's not just a dream anymore, but a real future, and we are looking for her, waiting for her, hoping for her.

With Little Bug and Little Bro, we (I) made big announcements all the time.  We (I) wrote blog posts about the smallest details and the most insignificant of steps.  This time around, due to a couple of factors, the biggest being the long and completely unpredictable time frame of referral and travel in our specific situation, we (not just I) have decided to keep Little Miss' process low key. Of course, me blournaling this is hardly keeping it secret, but that isn't our intention, and everyone that should know already does.  Rather, we've done the adoption-OMG!!!! thing for so long that it's time to just live our lives and celebrate the big things when they eventually come along.  I promised Appa I would be less crazytown this time, and I intend to hold to that.

However, I really just need to acknowledge the fact that we are on our way to our daughter, and that we are so very happy and excited about it.  And someday, when she reads this amidst the pages and pages devoted to her brothers, she will know that her adoption was just as special and just as exciting and joyful.

Buying that frame when I knew full well that it wouldn't be used for years was my attempt to put that out into the universe.  I won't have a closet filled with dresses and bows for quite some time, but in my crawl space a frame will be waiting to be filled.  When I packed it away, I packed it away with a smile and a wish in my heart.  It won't be filled for many years, and I am okay with that.  The fact that it will be filled is the most important thing.

Little Miss, when you someday read this, know that you've been loved and hoped for from the beginning...just more in our hearts.

One Lucky Mama

The last week (or couple of weeks) has been hard for me. I tried to keep it close to the vest, but really, I did a poor job of it. It has been exactly to the day 4 months since I last saw Little Bro's face. That was almost the entire time we waited for Little Bug. I was feeling unlucky and woe is me and all those other highly unproductive and unattractive feelings.

Today/last night Little Bro was scheduled to go in for a check up. We'd requested pictures and an update, more for my sanity than anything else. Although I knew it would take weeks, even months, for these things to get processed and translated (if they even agreed to our update request), I've been totally preoccupied today.

A little bit ago an e-mail popped up, and I opened it without even seeing who it was from. I made a very unladylike noise and did a full spin in my desk chair as I read that pictures.....LOTS and LOTS of pictures, not even from this check up but from earlier and from his foster mother, were on their way to me.

Unheard of quantities of pictures.

I don't deserve the kind of luck I have been getting with this adoption. I'd consider myself lucky with just a couple of sets of red throne pictures...no matter what they actually looked like. To keep getting blessed BIG TIME with connections to our son humbles me and makes me feel ridiculous for complaining at all.

Oh Little Bro, you're teaching me some huge lessons about hope and faith and expectations and silver linings. I'm already a different person because of your presence in my life.

Six

6 months ago today we made the decision to adopt Little Bro.

In comparison, 6 months from the day we said yes to Little Bug's referral, I was just going back to work after finishing my maternity leave, our moratorium on house guests had been lifted, and I was so comfortable with my son that I was posting his constipation face pictures on our family blog.

The fact that I actively went back to my family blog to verify this information is slightly pathetic.

Honestly, although I have (really) bad days, the wait isn't killing me. Resigning myself from the beginning that the wait will be overly long has oddly helped tremendously....it allows me feel like I have some control over this process....like I CHOSE to endure this wait. Having Little Bug home takes the sting off the wait. I can't go sit morosely in an empty nursery and pout. I don't fixate on mothers in the grocery story, creepily stalking them with my eyes.

Although realistically we're going to be waiting 14-15 months from the moment we said "yes" to bring our son home, and as I type that I acknowledge how ridiculous that is, I don't feel so miserable as I look forward.

Instead I'll just say:

"Here's to the next 6 weeks, 6 months, and 6 years, Little Bro. I love that you are in my life."

The Legality and Emotional Investment of Holiday Cards

As I was waiting in line for zone 4 to board (I'm so spoiled when I travel with priority-seating Appa), I struck up a conversation with another off-duty mama heading home to her three kids. It was pretty superficial, but when she asked how many kids I had, my deliberate response was "Two. An almost-3-year-old and a 1 year old."

Usually I qualify this statement to avoid the confusion that results when I am found to only be parenting one child, but this time, with this stranger, I just tested it out on my tongue, the idea of being a two-boy mama. I let her believe that I was heading home to a rambunctious pair of brothers.

It was fun.

Granted, there was a bit truth stretching involved. Oh yes, I totally get the way brothers fight and make up. Oh yes, there isn't anything better than two little boys snuggling on their mama. Mmm humm, mmm humm, mmm humm. However, I consider Little Bro my son, and see little harm in role playing my upcoming reality.

Yet, when I started designing our holiday cards last night, I was stumped as to whether or not to include Little Bro in the signature. He isn't really a member of our family yet, not fully. Something could happen. I'm not really his mama and Appa isn't really his father and Little Bro is decidedly not wishing our 80 friends and family warmest holiday wishes for this holiday season and the new year.

It's okay to role play with a stranger in an out-of-state airport, but it's different when it comes to serious business like holiday cards.

I take my holiday cards VERY seriously.

I asked Appa to weigh in on the subject, and he immediately responded that Little Bro should be in the signature. When pressed why, his response was "why not?"

Appa does not take my our holiday cards VERY seriously.

This period post referral/pre travel is such an ambiguous period. You fall in love with a picture, the idea of a child, but can't truly love the child as your own until you meet him or her. Because legally, the child isn't yours. And beyond that, you don't know what to love about that child. I love the idea and future possibility of Little Bro. I love the way his mouth quirks up and his mad drumming skills. But what else is there that I can love about a child who I only have pictures and some basic eating and bowel movement information on?

Do I love him....YES, not in the same way I love Little Bug.

Not yet, but I have no doubt I will.

To people involved in the adoption process, these conflicting feelings make sense. You can love and claim that child as your own without actually having met him. You can declare your position as his mama even though that position currently belongs legally and physically to two other women. It's all good. It's how we roll in the adoption world. It's our version of bonding with a huge swollen tummy.

To the 60 other people on our holiday list, that might not make as much sense. It might seem more final that it actually is. It might seem more delusional than it actually is.

And yes, I am over thinking this, but holiday cards are basically legal documents to me, so they bring up strong emotions.

Anyway, bottom line is that Little Bro is going on the signature line. Not because we are pretending that he's home and not because he gives two hoots about anyone's holiday season, but because in Appa, Mama, and Little Bug's hearts, right now his name belongs there with ours.

A Freaking Awesome Hyung

Someone very wise reminded me last night, somewhat out of the blue, that less than a year ago Little Bug was still almost 2 months away from even being able to stand up by himself. She reminded me that he's only been walking independently for 9 months.

IN FACT, 8 days from today will be the anniversary of his first step ever.

I've been thinking a lot lately about having two little boys and a part-time gig as a "single mother". I get a little nervous when I think about some of the challenges it will bring, especially with Little Bug's needs.

And then, thanks to someone wise, I remember that we still have a while yet before that time comes. A while that will see all of us growing and changing.

In my heart, I don't believe we'll meet Little Bro in less than 7-8 months from now. I just truly don't see it being possible.

So I look to how much has changed with Little Bug in less than a year and I know the big brother who will welcome Little Bro home in May or June will be leaps and bounds more amazing than he is now.

And he's pretty freaking amazing right now, so I'm thinking I don't have much to worry about on that front.

I Wanted to Write About....

The great thing about this blournal is that I allow myself complete control (or lack of) when it comes to consistency. If I make multiple entries a day, that's okay with me. If I don't have anything to say for a week, that is okay, too.

The last few days have been awesome, but as I sat down to write about them, the words were stilted. Too much and too little, all at once.

I wanted to write about how hard and lonely and just off it felt to have Appa away for 2 long weeks and how proud I was of myself for not only surviving, but actually creating a great few weeks for both myself and my boy. I actually enjoyed myself.

I wanted to write about wine and girlfriends and how thankful I am for both.

I wanted to write about leaving my boys at 4 am, just hours after Appa got home. The conflicting emotions that ran through my heart as Little Bug woke up and wailed for me, rejecting his beloved Appa over and over. That's never happened before, and I'd be lying if said I didn't replay the scene over and over again with some measure of joy that my role as mama was finally meaning something special and exclusive to Little Bug.

I wanted to write about how special it is to have a best friend like Ali(ce). Spending time with her is like stepping back into my past, only as my present self. It is comfortable and fun and leaves me happy. Just really, truly happy. Even just a few hours. And how she bought Little Bro a crinkle lion lovie to send in a care package, only to exchange it for something else when she saw my latest care package post with the same crinkle lion already included that I had purchased without knowing she had bought him one. Ha.

I wanted to write about holding my infant nephew in my arms and being absolutely terrified. I'm the oldest of five and have held more than my fair share of babies, but now that I am a mother, the fragile nature of an infant terrified me.

I wanted to write about how kissing his head felt like warm peaches.

I wanted to write about laying on the couch for hours while Itty Bitty slept on my chest. How is felt so wonderful, and yet, it didn't make me wish for that moment with my own babies. In fact, the limiting nature of providing for an infant actually made me secretly glad that I didn't have to go through that…although it made me feel about a million times more grateful when I thought about my sons' foster mothers putting in all the time and effort and sacrifice for children they knew they might never see grow up. That makes me so sad and so grateful.

I lied. There was a part of me that wanted to know if kissing Little Bug and Little Bro's heads felt like warm peaches. I hope their birth mothers were able to have that experience for themselves.

I wanted to write about my long, honest, candid talks with my sister….the one who was never supposed to be my confidant. The relief that comes with knowing one other person in the world who is dealing with many of the exact same issues as you are…What a wonderful life surprise.

I wanted to write about getting my nephew addicted to Pororo and my little sister addicted to Kdramas. I'm not sure why that brings me such amusement.

I wanted to write about family and love and friendship and life, but I just don't have the words.

Perhaps my kid needs to puke again to break this writer's block.

On Birth

My little sister had a baby last night.

Yesterday morning there was no baby. This morning, a new little soul is a part of this world, our family, and his family. A child who will forever be a part of my heart.

I understand that there are fundamental feelings and emotions that women who have not experienced the act of giving birth can't understand, but my sister has given me a great gift. With both of her labors, she's called me right before the "final act" and then again from the recovery room, hopped up on drugs, and still raging on hormones. Last night she was almost forced to hang up because her oxygen was dropping while talking to me. She's let me share with her some of the raw emotion of giving birth (without actually being there, which my squeamish heart would decline anyway). She's cried out her emotions, whispered in a wavering voice her fears, and squealed her joy.

She's allowed me to experience some measure of the birth process, for which I am grateful and humbled. Ironically, last night she told me that part of the reason she is so compelled to call me in these moments is because I don't have my own experiences to judge her against. I am a blank birthing slate, ready to absorb her emotions without judgment or filters.

Last night was truly special. With her first son (the first baby for either of us), there was some measure of "OMG, I'm/You're a Mother....there's a baby here" and complications to understand. This time around, after both of us growing together for the last 2.5 years as mothers who've experiences some readjusted expectations, our conversations were much different.

More honest.
More realistic.
More sincere.
More grateful.
and definitely more joyful.

Who knows what the future holds for my perfect little nephew, but I know I'll never forget the night he was born and the gift that he is.

K--I know you read this sometimes, although with two littles you will probably miss this post. Thanks for walking this motherhood road with me and sharing those parts where your path diverges.

Mama = Feet in Ribs (at some point)

I'm planning a baby shower for my sister-in-law tomorrow. I'm super thrilled for her, not just because I get another cute niece to buy girl clothing for, but because I know how exciting it is to be able to hear the crying baby at the end of what for many of us is a very long tunnel and I am just so truly happy for them.

As I was trying to figure out baby games for this shindig (and no, in case you are wondering, the diaper cake, guess her belly length in toilet paper squares, and baby food tasting games are all banned at this shower, just like the chicken dance and country music was banned at my wedding--I have standards), I realized my perspective of babies and new motherhood has skewed. I kept having to reign myself in. No, she probably doesn't want bulgogi at her baby shower...that wouldn't make sense. No, as handy as they are, she does not need a "snack trap" the moment the baby is in her arms. She doesn't need teething tablets either. Put the Gerber Puffs DOWN.

In my mind, when thinking about new motherhood, I go first to my experiences. So many of my friends have the same experience that it is always surprising to me when someone I know actually has a baby come to their family at zero hours old and covered in something other than drool from teething.

I've made peace with my infertility, in fact, although the loss is great in adoption, I cannot deny that I love the way my family is formed. After having some surgery in that area last year, my specialist told me that my best chance at ever getting pregnant was the following 3 months. She suggested we hop back on the good old C pill, turn on Marvin Gaye, and give it a whirl.

My immediate answer: No. My husband sings in a silly, weird voice when Marvin Gaye is on. Plus, the thought of getting pregnant just didn't seem like something either of us wanted anymore. My standard, tongue-in-cheek answer is that I am happy not to have a human's feet shoved into my ribs. My secret answer is that I'm not willing to change a family dynamic I am comfortable with.

But you know what, no matter how you become a mama, you will eventually have a child's foot shoved in your ribs. It might be while you are 8 months pregnant and it might be while you are cosleeping in bed with your dreaming, flailing son who seems to sleep best sideways...with his feet shoved into your ribs. No matter how you get from the beginning of the tunnel to the end, the crying baby at the end is the best, most perfect gift.

That is a perspective I can share with all mothers....even the ones who don't have bulgogi at their baby shower.

Picture is of my s-i-l and her daughter. Not used with permission and totally stolen off her Fbk page. Don't sue me, Mama E.

Growing a Pair

Sometimes I err so far on the side of caution to not inconvenience someone that I end up driving myself wild. One little e-mail could clear it all up, but NOOOOOOO, I would prefer to suffer in anxious anticipation/worry for a full week instead of putting myself out there just a teeny, tiny bit. This in turn makes poor Appa have to suffer through my "suffering." Trust me, I am not a pretty sufferer.

So today, after two DDPs and one too many e-mail dings from a social networking site that was most definitely not my SW sending me an update on Little Bro, I grew a pair and sent off a polite, one line e-mail just asking if she had anything for me.

I feel a bit better now. Either way she answers, I'll soon be able to stand my e-mail dinging without going into nervous twitches.

And that is a good thing, because I am not a pretty e-mail twitcher, either.

.....

Sometimes I have SO much to say that I literally can't say anything at all. In the past few days I have started and scrapped no less than 5 blournal entries.

I'm hoping getting this out will fix the block I have with sharing any of my feelings.

I hate being patient. I hate secrets. I hate anticipation. I hate fear and uncertainty. I hate placing my trust in others. I love secrets. I love the thrill of anticipation. I love having people around me that I can trust. I love learning to be patient and overcoming fear and uncertainty...okay, I'm still working on the last one.

I got on my knees last night and prayed...hard. The naked truth is that I'm a person filled with faith, but I'm pretty confused sometimes as to what my faith is in. But last night I prayed and was filled with an overwhelming conviction.

My life is good. So good.

So buoyed with that reminder and conviction, I'm feeling lighter and ready.....

I'm also feeling ready to start back in with my deep musings on toddler bodily fluids, so things are definitely clearer now...

This Mama Needs A Hobby

It has become apparent to me recently that I need a hobby…preferably a constructive one that does not involve the computer (or any of the tracking lists, blogs, bulletin boards, online groups, etc. that come with it).

The problem is I am essentially a bookish sort of girl who is happiest curled up with a book or my computer. Sure, I love to go out and be active, explore things, etc., but those really aren't things I can translate into a daily hobby I can use to take my mind off of what is looking to be an emotionally draining couple of months where I will need to be keeping busy and sane.

I enlisted my BFF Ali(ce)'s help in coming up with a hobby for me. She knows me really well (partly because she is like 85% the same person). Her response, "This is a little tricky since we are not super crafty people." She's right; I have no patience for anything creative (other than Blurb, which is off limits as it is a computer-related hobby). This means things like sewing, kitting, scrapbooking, quilting, and anything else like that is off the table.

I considered exploring cooking, but the reality of my working mom status is that cooking a creative or fun meal is just not really a daily option. I considered redecorating my house, but the only room I really need to redecorate is Little Bug's new room, and I'll be honest, that's not where my head needs to be right now. Plus, any other room would just be me spending money on more decorations. I don't think Appa would really get behind that sort of hobby. I don't draw, or paint, or even have an idea how to repurpose things for artistic purposes.

We finally came up with something that would be useful and something I could be successful with some time and effort.

I'm going to landscape our yard.

For me, this will be a major undertaking. I hate to garden. Hate it. The previous owners planted all these fancy flowers and plants that bloom throughout the year and I hate them because the way they are planted leaves room for tons of weeds (not to mention I think some of them look like weeds). I like boring, traditional, symmetrical looking landscaping…they liked cracked-out abstract not-sure-if-that-was-an-accident-or-not landscaping. It's going to be a challenge, and that is exactly what I need.

My plan of attack is to spend time right now researching how to garden, what types of plants and flowers and planters I would like to use, and planning out my planting. Once it gets warmer and lighter, I will be able to work on this project after Little Bug goes down for bed.

I'll need to get an outdoor wine glass...

So, if anyone has tips on gardening, ripping out expensive flowers, various types of low-maintenance plants and ground cover, send them my way.

Operation
Exchange Vegetation And Negativity
has officially began.

E [TBD] [TBD] [TBD] M

Dear Little Bro,

Yesterday Appa and I settled on your name. We hope you like it.

It wasn't my first choice, but your wise Aunt Ali(ce) reminded me that in the long run I'll truly love the name not because it was an homage to my favorite author or trendy (like the name I was fighting for), but because it is your name. Just settling on the name makes me like it even more because now it is you.

We've taken care of the cornerstone pieces of your name; we cannot wait to find out what the middle portion will be!

Pity Party, Table for 1

As much as I joke and as serious as those jokes actually are, I do think it is a serious bummer I will never be pregnant (read: ME have a kid in my belly, not MY KIDS be in my belly). I'm at a spot where it really doesn't bother me, and I actually consider it a "lucky break" in a lot of ways.

However, the selfish mama in me is still bummed about the silly parts of pregnancy, namely everyone (my husband) fawning over me. The constant growing reminder that we are growing our family, that we are already more than just three.

It's not like I would be able to wear one of those "Expecting from Korea" shirts every day for 12-18 months, and even if I could, I would never be caught dead in one (no offense, please, to those who like that sort of thing). The bottom line is that people don't treat me like an expectant mother, even though it's truly how I feel. My kid is growing out in the world, living, breathing, learning…my heart is expanding and my mind is preparing, but most don't know that. Who knows, maybe most people really don't really consider my situation similar to that of an expectant mother, and that is fine.

But it is a bummer when those that do don't validate it.

Appa doesn't read this blog, so this post is purely to calm my own soul. He is a good man, a very devoted and loving husband and father, and he is happy to be in the adoption process and will no doubt go goofy crazy in love over Little Bro.

For me, I love to think about our adoption. I am steeped in a community where it is in my face every day. I get REALLY excited thinking about our son, to the point of distraction sometimes. I'm a woman…I've been thinking about my babies since I was 3 years old. Like any expectant mother, I want to mull over names and nursery patterns and new gifts. Appa, for whatever reason, would prefer not to do any of that until we get really close to a referral (close being relative when we are a month or two away right now), and even then, his excitement is always so tempered. He is a stoic man, and I know that about him, so I tend to allow for that because I know how he will be when the baby comes home, but sometimes it hurts when I need to share my excitement with someone and the one person I want to share it with doesn't want to indulge me…like, seriously, hardly ever.

Unfortunately and somewhat uncharacteristically today Appa mentioned this emotional disconnect between our approaches to this next adoption in what was probably not the world's most perfect timing and it made me cry…at work...at my desk and has left a melancholy twinge in my heart since then.

Of course he certainly didn't intent for it to make me sad, but the bottom line is that sometimes in a marriage it's hard to be with someone with such a different temperament than your own. Add in something you feel passionate about and it is a recipe for some heartache. I know Appa is excited for Little Bro, but I guess sometimes I selfishly wish it was the same sort of excited that I am.

So, I have a few more hours to pout here at work before I think I need to get over this. It's nothing new, after all. I'm sure my husband will do something nice tonight like pour me a glass of wine or offer to take Battle Silverware for the night or give me kisses on my nose and a neck rub. He's that kind of guy. I'll remember that just as he can't expect me to change my emotional grids to match his, I can't expect him to conform to mine.

We will both be thrilled when we first see Little Bro's face, of that I am sure. He might not already have a name picked out, and we might not exactly know where we are going to relocate our guest bedroom or what we are going to put in his care package, but it will be love for both of us, and that's when the excitement will truly matter.

I still wish I had some chocolate right now, though.

I'm Pregnant.

You know, the paper kind.

Lately I have been getting that weird "paper pregnant" feeling. (By the way, I hate that term and think it is really lame, but it is appropriate for the context.) We've finished all our paperwork and are now just

w.
a.
i.
t.
i.
n.
g.

Granted, this wait is much different than the wait with Little Bug. With him it was the first and last thing I thought of each day. I would stare at the phone at work. I would daydream excessively. I would cry and wail and get angry and frustrated.

This time, it's been more laid back. I think part of it is because with Little Bug there was always this thought in the back of my head that is was all pretend, that it would never really happen. I'm now fairly confident that Little Bro will indeed "happen." In fact, filling out the paperwork was much more enjoyable this time because I could feel a more tangible connection to Little Bro.

But the daily obsession hasn't been there. In fact, until recently, we were intentionally dragging our feet. We were not ready...and now we are.

And suddenly, I am feeling like Little Bro is imminent and like he is already a part of our family. With that feeling comes the urge to have people validate his existence in our family and my heart. Pregnant women have their large round tummies; I've got a foster care license in my wallet. It's pretty flat.

A few days ago I was sitting in Little Bug's pediatrician's office waiting for the last bit of adoption paperwork to be completed. As I sat there, I thought forward to the time when I will be sitting in that very same chair with Little Bro. I had the overwhelming urge to blurt out to someone that I was his mother right now, too. That I was waiting for my son who is somewhere in the world right this second, living, breathing, laughing, or rather, for the sake of his foster mother, sleeping peacefully. (In fact, I did that very thing hours before we got Little Bug's referral paperwork....the nice man at the counter of the Italian restaurant we were at was very gracious.)

So, safe to say, since we went paper ready, Little Bro has been on my mind.

Ever since we decided to adopt another boy, and not a girl, I've been dreaming about getting my boys matching shirts, some form of Big Brother/Little Brother. I've been looking for weeks now for a "Little Bro" shirt (not "Lil Bro"). My dream was to have Little Bug wear his Big Brother shirt in a picture we would send over to Korea with the smaller shirt for Little Bro. Today, I found not exactly what I was looking for, but something equally as cool.

So I bought them.

I could have waited another month to order, but this way I get super cheap shipping and can have it ready for a care package to go immediately.

And it made me feel AMAZING to order two little shirts for my two little boys.

Because in case you haven't heard, I'm expecting....

A Christmas Carol

I've been meaning to write this for a few days, but didn't. Oh well.

This Christmas season I was visited by three holiday ghosts.

The Ghost of Christmas Past reminded me over and over about all those Christmases where I would take a moment and look around and promise myself that "next year I would have a baby to share this with," only to find myself doing the same thing the next year, acutely aware of my broken promises. It's been two Christmases now with my son, and that fact that I still think all those sad Christmases is a bittersweet reminder to always be grateful for the moments I do get to share with my family.

The Ghost of Christmas Present tagged in at this point and suggested that, maybe, just maybe, I should put down the camera and step away from the blournal and just enjoy the holiday I had waited so long to experience. I think, over all, I did a pretty okay job taking some pictures and video to capture the moments to share with our families far away, while still being able to just be there and enjoy them.

The Ghost of Christmas Future was sort of just floating overhead and occasionally would swoop down and slime me with the realization that this holiday was most likely my last with just Little Bug. Surprisingly, this made me a bit sad. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am terrified to have two children to corral around the tree, to stop from ripping down stockings and decorations, and who will have an even more obscene amount of gifts (not to mention the whole two human beings still in diapers under my care forever and ever in less than 12 month's time). However, Appa and I did occasionally bring Little Bro up and dream about what fun it would be to have our two little guys home for the holidays next year. We even started seriously discussing names, which thrilled me until I realized that this is going to be a seriously hard battle between Appa and I. Really, what is so wrong with the name "Corbin"?

Then all the ghosts were gone, the fourth season of Dext*r was watched, the presents were put away strategically moved from one room to another, and Appa and I have our final bits of adoption paperwork almost finished.

Bring on 2010.

Tap, tap, tap

This is going to sound insane, especially in light of my post a few days ago, but it's funny how life changes.

And my sneaky gut, well, she and I need to have a little talk about consistency and timing. A few days ago we made the decision to go on hold for our second adoption. It wasn't like we were backing out, but the decision affected me very much, so much more than I had expected it to. I was so sure that we were doing the right thing, and yet, I was still very uneasy about the situation. Sneaky, sneaky gut.

My friend JoJo talks a lot about shoulder taps; those little moments that whisper "this was meant to be" or "you are on the right track." Our family's first adoption journey was more like a series of shoulder pounds or face slaps or body slams, but most were only evident after the fact and delightfully ironic.

The last two days, however, I've been getting those little taps. Who knew my gut had hands?

We went on hold primarily because we were concerned about Little Bug's development, specifically walking. So we went on hold.

A few days later, he starts walking. Tap, tap, tap.

We went on hold because I worried about having two little babies on my own while Appa traveled weekly.

This week he heard that his travel might be limited for the foreseeable future, allowing him to be home for some of the crucial evening hours. Tap, tap, tap.

Today we heard about even more referrals coming in from our agency, so many in fact that our social worker contacted us to let us know we were getting up on the list. And Appa, who has been always very vocal about waiting, suddenly went "well, maybe……" Tap, tap, tap.

So I mulled it over. Was I ready? Was my family ready? Is the anxiety I am feeling because I am thinking about getting a referral, or is it due to thinking about NOT getting a referral? Is Little Bro already out there?

The answer that we came to after prayer and some deep conversations about our gut feelings is, yes, we believe he is. So, as of today, we are off hold.

I know. I KNOW. Crazy. I'm getting whiplash just thinking about it.

Suddenly I started thinking about where I would put Little Bro, how we would have to rearrange our home, our lives. REALLY thinking about it as a possibility instead of some abstract thing like vacation or new piece of furniture.

And it feels right. Really right, actually.

This isn’t to say that we are ready for a referral right now. I don't believe we are. But, I do believe we will be ready when the time is right, and it feels right to trust that process. It might be January when we get Little Bro's referral, and it might be April or May. Either way, it will be right.

Today I am at peace more than I have been in a long while. Glad to have you back, gut. I've missed you.

PS--I want to thank those of you who are reading this and apologize for the swing in emotions lately. It's been an emotional period of time for me, and I think I am just now figuring out why. So, thanks for understanding that my blournal entries come from emotions that I am working out or documenting. I think someday it will be interesting for me to look back and see how my family was changed in just one week's worth of decisions and events. Just probably not on a day when I am changing two-humans' worth of diapers.

It's official; I am sad

We are going on hold for Little Bro, at least until March. I always knew this was a possibility, but I was sort of hoping that things would just naturally slow down so that we wouldn't have to make the call...to say no to receiving a referral that was, for lack of a better phrase, within our reach. In so many ways, I hate being sad about this because it's a result of a number of families being matched with their sons, and that is an awesome thing.

I know we are not saying no to Little Bro. I firmly believe that our family will be ready for him when he is ready for us. He isn't ready, and neither are we.

My head gets that.

My impatient heart, however, is frowning a little tonight.

Just like that

Today my best, best, bestest friend Ali(ce) is going in to have her second daughter. I'm thrilled for her because 1. She'll have another sweet baby girl, and 2. She won't be pregnant anymore. I'm thrilled for the world because she and her husband make super cute kids, smart, well-adjusted, polite kids.

Isn't it funny to think about how people come into our lives. This morning the world woke up with out Baby yet-to-have-the-name-firmly-nailed-down, and (please don't let this jinx her) by the time the world goes to bed she will be here...a person who will be exceptionally important and loved to many people throughout her life will suddenly exist. Just like that. Who knows what she will do with her life, how she will impact the lives of those around her.

I don't have a reference for childbirth, but I know what it felt like when I first met Little Bug. One moment he was a combination of three pictures, some information on paper, and a lot of conjecture, and in the span of a split-second glance through window he was suddenly a living, breathing major part of my every waking thought and action for the rest of my life. That moment changed every fiber of my being. Just like that.

So, to my real-life Alice, happy baby-day. I wish for your a safe, comfortable, "beautiful," first glance at your newest reason for joy. I look forward to loving on her like I love on Fancy M.

I shook Mickey for good luck......

~E

Bring Back That Gutty Feeling...

I wanted to preserve this post that I wrote Saturday morning, less than a day after Little Bug's formal assessment, but I also wanted to get it out there in a timely fashion. It was hard for me to write and just felt off, which is why I ultimately left it as a draft. After the distance of a few days, I think it is important that I do publish it for myself (I am, after all, using this as a journal for myself among other things).

I'm exceptionally thankful for the providence that scheduled this meeting and the adoption conference I attended on the same weekend. As you will see, my heart was heavy for both my sons, and the conference helped lift me up for both of them. I had a false sense of control over Little Bro's adoption, one that made me think that controlling the timing was best for us. Ultimately, I still do have control over the timing; that control just isn't the same type I thought is was.

That is okay. It's all okay. It will all work out exactly the way it should. My family comes first, and as long as I continue to hold true to that, everything will be okay.

I have that gut feeling that it will be.

-------------------------------------------------
Saturday, October 31, 2009

ohhh, that gutty feeling
Bring back that gutty feeling, now it's gone, gone, gone

Like I mentioned in the last post, yesterday was our big assessment. The overriding mood of the meeting was positive and optimistic for Little Bug's long term life, and Appa and I got lots of great information. I went into the meeting with a little more realistic outlook than Appa did, so I think some of it was a bit more of a shock to him than it was to me. Although, honestly, very little of it felt good to hear.

Bottom line, "the overall number" was lower than we both thought it would be. Significantly lower, quite frankly. Although it doesn't change a darn thing physically or emotionally for any of us, last night was a solemn evening for Appa and I. One thing I have learned throughout all our many "life trials" is that you have to let yourself grieve in order to be true to yourself and move on. Last night we privately and quietly grieved for...I don't even know what I would call it...disappointment in the situation? (Because we are certainly not disappointed in Little Bug at all!)

Anyway, today is a new day, and we have moved on. We've started with some new suggestions and are continuing to plug away at our daily lives. Little Bug is stronger than he was yesterday. We love him more than we did yesterday. But, overall, life is no different today than it was yesterday.

However, that was a long, roundabout way to get to the point of this post. Gut feelings.

I'm a huge believer in them, and will nearly always "go with my gut" on things. Today though, I am confused because I don't have a gut feeling that I desperately wish I did. I guess I've never looked for one before without just automatically having it.

One about Little Bro.

It makes my heart and head hurt to even write this, but with this confirmation of Little Bug's delays and the realistic time frames we are looking at with his continued progress, our thoughts turn to our next adoption, which is scheduled to go "paper ready" in two weeks. We have both felt strongly that we would not be ready to receive a referral for Little Bro until after Little Bug starts walking, and recently told our social worker that we didn't want a referral before March 2010 and would go on hold if necessary to ensure that Little Bug (and us) had enough time to prepare.

Now I wonder if that is even too soon.

My heart aches with the idea of waiting longer. My heart wants two little boys close in age, and my heart wants Little Bro to come home next year. I want.

But my head is whispering that I don't need or want Little Bro to eclipse his big brother in motor skills and other development. I don't need or want to have to try to deal with all the issues of attachment and bonding and babyness with Little Bro while still actively trying to get Little Bug to some semblance of age-appropriate independence.

Never mind what Little Bug actually needs and wants...things that are infinitely more important than my own needs and wants.

Part of me isn't sure I actually could do it (it being effective parenting for both boys) right now. I worry about spiraling even deeper into post adoption blues the second time around. I worry about Appa's job that requires so much travel. I worry about giving Little Bug the extra attention he needs along with the extra attention Little Bro would deserve. I worry about pretty much everything. It's suffocating.

Crap. Writing it down makes it more clear. My gut is probably telling me to wait and watch and listen, and if it doesn't feel right in March, then it is probably wrong and I need to prepare myself to be strong enough to let Little Bro go for a little longer. The fact that I am even thinking about it is my sneaky gut giving me a heads up.

I hate letting go.

Ahh, what the heck

Life is too short, and kids are too special to split hairs. I went out on my lunch break and bought it.

I'm gonna be Little Bro's Mama.....someday!

Until then, I will hide this away (literally, I am going to hide this from Appa), and take it out when I need to spend a special moment thinking about my youngest son.