To be better

I got to feed my son tonight. He drank silently and continued his dreaming. I watched and kissed his sweet face and became overwhelmed with love and determination to do better, to be better and to make others better along my path. 

I was reminded of how I felt when he was first placed in my arms. The spirit told me he would be a powerful influence of good. He would bless many lives and that his birth and the people who had been touched by him already, was proof of that.

Sometimes I forget about that experience, like when I am trying to vacuum but my superman needs to be held because the humming of the cleaner frightens him. I get into the mom routine and forget the greater callig I have. I need to better myself for him. I need to be his rock. Solid and steadfast. 

I saw me in him tonight. His smile felt like mine. We were whispering to eachother about how excited we are to become an eternal family. Anytime I talk about the temple, he stares into my eyes and smiles from ear to ear. The toothless grin melts me. His tossed, golden locks remind me of his birth mom, but I am glad that he has some of me in him too. We also devised a plan to make his baby blessing beyond memorable for all in attendance. ( I'll share our secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.) We decided that when J gives him his blessing at church he would burst out into a million giggles and won't stop until the blessing is done. Superman loved that idea and showed me his approval by practicing his giggles as he half-heartedly sucked on his binki. Oh I can't wait.

I wish everyone could feel loved the way he and I do. I don't know why others don't have it. It makes me want to change the world. Everyone deserves love, no matter what choices they have made. I know that and God is love. If only everyone could find him.

Zombie Land Changes

Zombie land has changed. I'm more cranky.  I wish I wasn't, but I am when I have to sleep train my 5 month old to self sooth at 3am and then have to work the next day.  But, I still wouldn't change it for the world.  Currently the little zombie maker is making a grunt/ humming noise that he makes just before he goes into the dreamworld. It is the best sound.

Superman is now 5 months old.  In one more month we will be able to finalize the adoption and we will be his legal parents, even more exciting, we get to be sealed together in the LDS temple.  The temple is a holy place where a man and a women can be married for time and all eternity.  J and I were sealed together almost 5 years ago.  Now, our beautiful, perfect little boy gets to be sealed with us.  When death comes we won't be separated but rather an eternal family.  

I learned a lesson recently.  I needed to change something that I was neglecting to do in my life.  I was even kindly chastised to change my lack of commitment toward this.  It was hard to change.  It wasn't something simple.  Really it would require huge sacrifices! Luckily, my heart was humbled a great deal. So, I made the changes, did what I had to, and gave up what I needed to in order to make things right. The relief was increadible, when I made the change.  Immediately I felt the spirit enter my heart and remind me of the love God has for me.  Now, I have changed.  I know this may not make sense, but when I decided to make sacrifices I got more in return. Peace, power, knowledge, desire and love. I guess sacrifice really does bring forth blessings. 

Just reread this, a bit random.... Oh well.

Baby, my baby

10 things I want Superman to remember about his life right now.

1. Your mommy and daddy love your guts!

2. Mama B can't get enough of you.

3. You laugh when I say, "doggy doggy doggy doggy," really fast.

4. You get an excited, toothless grin anytime daddy walks into the room.

5. You love it when mommy kisses your chin. You giggle everytime.

6. You gummy-chew on everything!

7. Your drool soaks all of your shirts down to your belly button.

8. You eat rice cereal like a Pro.

9. You like to play in the stand up bouncer and roll around on the floor.

10. You are absolutely, positively perfect in everyway, and I love you always!

Tired but happy

Thank you so much birth mommy for helping me at school. You didn't have to, but you did. You got to see me at my worst, most unorganized state, late at night and frantic to get things done. Thanks for not judging me, but laughing with me instead. Thanks for listening to my ranting about how Cristmas has become too comercialized and how bugged I was that my school computer would not print my newsletter. Thanks for using 'the worst tool', the exacto knife to patiently cut he plastic lamenant from the folder to make pockets for cards. Thank you for passing out the papers for the sweet kiddos to work on tomorrow morning. Thank you for being a sincere friend. 

Thank you for trusting me to make good choices and for trusting me to still work even though baby is in my care. Thank you for allowing me to be the mommy to sweet baby boy. I am still amazed that I get to be his mom. It hurts to know that I took that from you, but I can't let that bother me. I guess I didn't take it away, but you now have a different mommy title and role. Nevertheless, I have to  have baby be my number one focus. I will focus on baby and I will enjoy the life I have while growing a deeper friendship with you.

Thank you for being you.

Sookie Girl

A little piece of my heart died today when I buried my sweet dog.  J and I can't stop crying.  We cleaned out all of her things and packed them up.  It's too hard to see them when she is not here to enjoy them.  I miss her terribly.  She healed me when I was at the peak of depression. I know this life is just that, immortal, but it sure stinks to lose anyone or thing that you love. 

Placement

I wonder why things happen the way that they do? It baffles me that one person's heartache can be another's miracle. In my case, superman was everyone's miracle. Miracle baby, we like to call him. Birth mommy was praying to find us as much as we were praying to find our child. Even though he is her miracle, the situation was still a heartache for her though. I've written about the placement in my personal journal, but I want to say a few things hear as well.

The day of placement was an emotional roller coaster for me. I felt terrible knowing that birth mommy would be going through emotions I couldn't understand and couldn't help her with. I was torn. How could I be so happy when the other party would be so sad. But I was happy. I was grateful. I was relieved that Father in Heaven had heard my constant prayers for a child.

That morning I was racing to find the gifts that I wanted for the Birth Mommy.  I had ordered something online a month earlier, but it was on back order and we didn't get it in time.  I was scrambling.  I was frustrated.  I wanted everything to go perfectly.  (To be honest, I really didn't know what to expect.  Everything happened so quickly, that we missed out on much of the preparation for the placement day.) Finally I found the perfect gift.  I hurried home to get ready to pick up our son and thought to myself, "Can I call him that yet?"  I felt guilty even thinking it.

My heart was racing and J had a calm, yet nervous attitude as we drove to the adoption agency.  We got there early. We sat in the car with the late morning sun shining into our CRV.  We had bought a new camera the week before to document everything, so we sat in our car and recorded a message for Superman, one from each of us. I wanted him to know how much we loved him, even before we saw or held him.

We knew Birth Mommy and her cousin were already meeting with the caseworker.  J and I couldn't wait to see Superman.  It had been three days since his birth.  It was killing me not being able to be part of his life for those few days.  I missed out on the birth, I missed out on his first feeding, I missed his first bath, his first burp, his first cuddle, his first everything.  I needed to see him, hold him, kiss him and show him that I loved him even from before birth.

Finally it was time.  The caseworker came to the lobby to show us into the placement room.  The tears started coming.  I forced them back, but lost it again when I saw Birth Mommy, her cousin and then little baby.  That first view of him was shocking.  I loved him.  I wanted to love on him, but I couldn't just yet.

Birth Mommy, started to go through all of the details of the birth.  At one point she let me hold him, then she needed him back.  I understood that.  It was a little awkward at first.  I didn't know what to say or what to do.  The feeling drastically changed once we all let our guards down.  We gave the gift and explained the meaning behind it.  It was a picture of Mary and baby Jesus.  (I do think of Birth Mommy as something more than just the carrier of our son.  She is the protector.  She is like Mary.  She is like our Father in Heaven. I don't want to go into all the reasons why I think that.  It is too personal, but I admire her more than anyone else for her courage to do what was best for superman.) She gave us a gift, a picture of Christ holding a lost lamb.  Attached was a letter to Superman.  It hangs in his room as we speak.  It watches over him like an angel.  I can't wait until he can understand the words from that letter.

As we spoke of our feelings of God and our feelings of love, the spirit of God entered the room.  It was tangible, like the moment when we first met with birth mommy to see if we needed to be his parents.  I didn't see anything, but I could feel an overwhelming love for everyone in the room. Tears came from everyone in the room.  Even J.

My favorite part was when J gave Superman his first blessing.  J gets extremely nervous when he gives anyone a blessing, but when he put his hands on Superman's head and spoke, it was not his own words.  It was our Father in Heaven.  He blessed him and expressed not only his love for him, but how he knew superman would always love his birth mommy.  J is such a good husband and Father.

We took pictures and tried to document everything.  When it was time for us to leave, birth mommy put superman in my arms.  Imediatly I was in love.  I cried and cried. I memorized his sweet face.  His big eyes and skinny legs.  He was soooo small! Oh and his hair! He had so much.  I couldn't believe that it was happening.  He found us! It was in a unique and difficult way, yet amazing. He has so many people who love him. In that moment, I knew he was special.  He has a good, strong heart and would change the people around him for the better.  He already had.  

I never wanted to put him down. I wanted him in my arms forever.  I wanted to memorize every part of his tiny body. I didnT want to forget this moment.  The moment he found us. He brought peace to my heart and soul.  I no longer had the emptiness in my heart.  I knew he was the part of my heart that had been missing.  

Yes heartache is painful.  It is painful for me to accept that I may never carry a child.  It is painful for birth mommy that she placed baby boy.  But something has come from all of that pain.  Love.  I love much deeper than before.  Birth mommy and I are friends and have a love for each other that we may never have had if we didn't have this connection.  Baby loves everyone, and everyone loves him too.  Itis difficult for me to understand the why's, but I don't doubt that God knows the why's and I'm ok with that.  

When birth mommy reads this, know this is for you "love always!"

Haircut

Superman ha his first haircut yesterday. What a handsome little devil he is. 

3 months

It's been over three months since superman came to us. I love him so much. I witnessed something new today. Someone accidentally ran into our bumper while I was driving to visit a friend. 

There was no damage and everyone was fine, but the mama bear in me came out. I unloaded on this poor girl who ran into us. Usually I would be checking to see if the other people are ok. Instead I didn't register anything about how young and scared she was. I just showed my teeth, dug my claws into her soul and made her promise to always keep her eyes on the road because she could have hurt my baby. Poor girl. Poor people who may unnintentually hurt my superman, because mama bear is fierce. 

Conference

I love general conference. I have to admit, that I do snooze at one point in the 10 hour conference ( which is split up between 3 different days). But I learn so much from it.

Yesterday there were many talks that were written for me. One I would like to talk about was given by Elder Holland. He always seems to know how to speak on topics that I need. He shared his thoughts of clinical depression. I have dealt with this for 10 years. Some years have been easier than others. My husband had to learn a great deal about depression. We have been married for 4 years now and he can now relate to me very well. It took a while because depression doesn't run in his family like it does mine. It was difficult for him to recognize that I couldn't just think happy and be positive.  It was nearly impossible for me to do so without medical help. 

Elder Holland shared his own experience with depression and also shared blessings for those who suffer from it and the caretakers for those who have it. 

After the end of the talk I felt peace, love and gratitude. Especially gratitude for someone, who I admire so much, to aknowledge the difficulty of mental illness. 

There is nothing more frustrating than to have someone who has not experienced mental illness to give advice about how to be happy when they haven't educated themselves on what it is like. 

I'll try to explain. For me, and my depression is minor compared to others, it is a constant mental battle to be happy. I grew up extremely happy and care free. My nickname was 'smiling jack'. I would have never guessed that depression would be in my future. Depression didn't show until college. Something changed, my mind was a whirlwind, I couldn't think clearly, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. I actually remember one instance when I was driving home to see my parents, I thought, "If I drive off the road and into the water, I might feel better." I know how crazy that sounds and part of me thought that sounded crazy too, but the other part of me wanted to die and that part of me was fighting to take control. 

I know what your thinking. Psychtofrennia. Nope I never heard voices or had a split personality, it was the depressed side of me arguing with my spirit to end the fight and to give into the depression. But I never let it win, because the spirit kept me going. I just didn't understand what was going on. I've never hurt myself or tried to take my own life.  I have thought that if I got hit by a bus, or something, I wouldn't be sad about it. 

I thought I could overcome these feelings through Christ. I read the scriptures. I prayed. I got blessings. Then I got more and more cynical. I stopped those things because I couldn't feel the spirit, It wasn't helping. The depression started winning. I slowly fell deeper in. And all the while I had no idea that what I was feeling was a clinical problem. 

Luckily I had a few people force me to get help. They forced me to go to the doctor, get meds and take them. Magically I started to feel like myself again. 'Smiling Jack' slowly started to return. The depression slowly diminished and my spirit was able to be free again. 

I still take medication, I hate it and love it at the same time. I hate it because i have to rely on medicine to help me be myself. I love it because I can be myself. 

I don't have depression because I am weak. I don't have it because I don't know how to think happy thoughts. I don't have it because something tragic happened in my life. Honestly, I don't know why I have it or why most of my family members suffer from it, but I know that it has made me more compassionate, more loving, and it has allowed me to be more happy. I know how hard it can be to fight for happiness, so I cherish it more deeply and I constantly seek for it.

Even with the medication I have to push depression aside. Pills don't take away hard things, or make life easier. They simply make it so that I can choose to be happy or sad. Just like any other person. The depression can no longer determine for me. IT WILL NOT determine for me.

August 25th post

I wrote this a while ago and wasn't sure if I wanted to post it. But I have realized if I don't post my thoughts, then I forget them and I don't want to forget this.

August's post:

I know I didn't give birth, but I am tired and I think I deserve to say that as much as any women who was able to carry a child. It still stinks when people say that. I know I didn't have to worry about blood and stitches or milk coming. But I am still tired because of other things I am obligated to do.

Life has been hard lately. I've had to go back to teaching. I LOVE teaching, but I feel like a terrible mom every time I have to take time away from superman and put it toward someone else's child. 

I know I am where I need to be in this time of my life, but I don't know how long I am going to be able to keep it up. I not only teach, but I am a director over a large program at the school. I don't want to talk about it in detail, but trust me when I say it is another full time job. 

The thing is, I have gotten other people to help me out, but right now I have to train them and prepare things in order for my class and the program to run smoothly. I know there will be an end, or at least a time out for all of this madness, but I can't see it. 

I will say that I love superman more and more everyday. His hair has been kissed by the sun, and he is gradually growing chipmunk cheeks. 

He had an ear infection. That was terrible. He is now getting back to his happy and very active self.

Back to my earlier thought... A few years ago a parent to one of my students came and talked with me. I had noticed that their had been something wrong for a while. The parent then shared with me their feelings and concerns. Nothing to do with their student, but about themselves. I am grateful they did. I was able to get them the help they needed so desperately. I don't know why they came to me, but I do know that I somehow was in the right place at the right time. I don't even think this parent is very religious, but they did say that they knew I needed to have their child in my class so that I could help the parent as well as the child. I don't know why I feel I should be teaching, but I do. I don't know why I feel like I should still be the director of a large program, but I do. I may never know why... Yet I hope that someone will know and that I can help them out in the way they need it.

Mountains to Climb

Yesterday evening:

I can't pin point it.  But I am struggling with life, somehow.  I know, that sounds strange, "I don't know what is wrong with me."  I know what it is not. It's not depression, it's not hatred, it's not fear.  Whatever it is I am not ready to face it.  I have many friends who, when I get like this, love to analyze my feelings and situations with me.  I then am able to move on and to get over it.  I find myself avoiding those people lately.  Instead I have been blocking out the feeling and only focusing on what needs to get done.  That's all I want to write about today.  Maybe I'll write later.

Today:

No matter what the trial, God will always show forth his love.  I am so grateful for the youth.  They inspire me.  I was told, that in my life I would convince my brothers and sisters of the truthfulness of the gospel.  I witnessed that tonight.  

This summer was the most eventful I have ever had. Before summer came, I had a busy school year with teaching first grade and organizing an after school club program.  I put in long hours trying to be the best at both jobs. So, you can imagine how excited I was for the summer. My husband and I had also been called to organize a youth conference for our ward.   I was beyond excited and nervous for the chance to help.  We worked to organize the conference.  We decided the theme would be 'Mountains to Climb." Inspired by elder Eyring's talk.  We would take the youth camping.  With the help from some of the youth in our ward, we also planned spiritual moments along with fun activities for the camp. We were getting all set for the day of the camp. Come July, we would have our conference and help the youth to build their testimonies.

A few days after school let out, I got the phone call that put Superman's adoption into play.  He was supposed to be born in less than a month and we hadn't even put in our adoption papers. (Proof that God has a plan with everything.) I was completely overwhelmed. Overjoyed, depressed, determined, stressed, truly I was a bit of a nut job.  Looking back at it all.  And one thing that I couldn't be happy about was that the baby was to be born the same time our conference had been planned for. My heart sank with the thought of not teaching and learning with the youth from our ward.  (I bond with most people very quickly and the love I have for them is deep.)  I loved the youth.  I had been called to be their leader, and they were excited about it too.  Unfortunately we couldn't do both, J and I talked with our bishop and asked for help with the conference. And help was found. 

The other couple came in and took what we had planned and built from it and made the conference a wonderful experience for all who attended. J and I were able to be with our Superman and also took turns going to the camp for 2 different activities.  

I didn't think much about that camp until today. Our bishop stopped us 2 weeks ago to invite us to attend a fireside that would show a video of youth conference.  Of course J and I were excited to go, but thought we would sit in the back and just be bystanders. It didn't happen.  And as you read from my other post, I was having a very difficult time.  I thought church might help me, but I got nothing during the actual service today. But something happened at this fireside. Light. Pure light. The love of Christ overcame me.  The youth today have a power about them.  I am sure I had it when I was that age too, and it is contagious. 

J, Superman and I sat in this fireside watching the slide show of the pictures that were taken during the conference, and we were both a little bummed that we missed out, but so happy that we had a beautiful son instead. A few people spoke, and I'm not going to talk about what they said, but I do want to share the video that was shown at the end.  I needed this.

As I watched this, I felt the love of my Father in Heaven so strongly.  Superman had fallen asleep in my arms, my husband held my hand, and at that moment I was so grateful for my life.  I was so grateful to be in that room at that moment.  I was so grateful to know what I know and that I had the opportunity to be part of this great conference,  what little part I did play.

After the video, the bishop then asked one other person to share their thoughts, and then looked at me to share mine to end the fireside.  I didn't expect this. But my heart was so full and I needed to share what I was thinking.  I needed to tell the youth how special they are.  I needed them to know that God loved them and that Satan would do anything and everything in his power to make them feel like they are not the person they really are. They needed to know that they are the most important group in the church.  They are the defenders (as our bishop pointed out), they are the army of God.  As I spoke, I didn't have things thought out, but I spoke from my heart.  And, honestly, I don't remember everything that I said, but as I looked into the eyes of some of the youth, I knew I was there for a reason. I knew that something I said helped someone there.  I know because everything that was said there helped me and God loves me just as much as he loves everyone else in that room.  I realized that last night, this morning and after church, there really wasn't anything wrong with me.  I realize now that something didn't want me to be to the fireside, something didn't want me to be in a position to share my testimony and that something almost won.  I almost forgot who I was.  I almost gave up because the 'unkown' trial was too hard for me to comprehend.  If I had let the adversary win, my blog post would be very different.  I would be very different.

I wonder what I have missed in the past because I didn't fight.  Ya know what, I'm not even going to think about it.  Instead I am going to start anew.  I will win the fight and I will be a defender of the Gospel.  With God's help, I can do all that is required of me. If he wants me to convince my brothers and sisters of the truthfulness of the Gospel, then I will. In pray that I can borrow just a little of that power the youth has and make my testimony contagious.

Friendships

Birth momma stopped by today. I loved it. We have decided to keep things more casual. Having specific dates for visits stresses me out. Plus we are genuine friends, I miss her some days just like I miss my other friends. I'm glad we feel so happy about the adoption that we can just keep our friendship going and growing. Blessed are we.

Rain, Rain, Never Go Away

It's raining

It's pouring

Yay!

I love the rain.  I love the sound and the smell.  The green that follows afterward and the puddles I can splash my feet into.  It brings me back to childhood.  I would stand on our large deck as the watery clouds would cover the sky, and it made me feel like I should be on a boat... no a SHIP.  A ship with Captain Hook and I was Peter Pan. I would take over the wheel and guide the ship through Never Land, past the mermaids and through waterfalls.  I even thought it would be a good idea to use some 'fairy dust' one day, and try to fly. I jumped.  The dust didn't work.  I 'flew' off the balcony and landed flat on my face.  My best friend brought me a flower and it made everything better.  He was the best friend in the entire world.  I cried for days when his family moved away. 

In college I was a free little spirit.  Ummmm, I guess I still am, but more so then.  Whenever it would rain, I felt this urgency to run outside and dance in it, just like Gene Kelly in 'Singing in the Rain'.  I love that movie! Side note- i love the song 'Make 'em Laugh'. I would convince my friends to go out and act like fools while our bodies were soaked with the fresh moisture. Now I just want to write about it.  Maybe it's because I don't have anyone home to sing and dance in the rain with tonight. 

Yesterday, we had my favorite kind of weather, light showers with a sunny sky. Me, Daddy and Superman played with Sookie while the mist tickled our eyelashes.  It was the perfect moment.  Then J hugged me from behind, I LOVE that, and we stood on our porch hugging, holding our son, watching our dog and enjoying my weather.  It was a gift from God, that moment.

I want to, want to dance in the rain. And yes, I meant to say that.  I want to have that desire back to be free and to not care about things for a while.  I want to leave responsibility at the door and just fly. Go to Never Land and never grow up.  I remember thinking one day, as a child, "one day this is going to end.  I better live it up now!" And I did.  Maybe that's why I want to go back some days. 

These moments, when I need freedom, only last for a while and then I am back in reality.  I like my reality.  Actually, I love it.  It is hard, and oh my goodness, does it have its challenges, but I couldn't leave it forever.  My soul just needs a minute break and then I go back to life.  But that minute break is just as important as the life time reality.  It keeps me sane.

It's early, but I'm going to bed.  Sookie and I will be cuddling until Superman needs some cuddling in the night.  Then Sookie will just have to cuddle with herself.  Maybe one day they will cuddle together.  Oh I can't wait.  That will be a cute picture.

Loyal and true, a little naughty too!

I have been itching to write.  This is new for me since I have not enjoyed writing before.  

A few things to keep you posted on.  

1. Superman is now 2 months old.  I picked him up the other day, and I could have sworn he gained weight overnight.  He was more dense and has out grown some of his newborn clothing (which was small on him to begin with).

2. J and I are doing much better.  We have had great talks and are both feeling like we can deal with the extra demands of life better. 

3. Visited birth mommy today.  It was wonderful to have a quick chat and to see how much superman is starting to look like her.  I like it.

4. I think the depression has been minimized.  Thank heavens!

It's a windy night, and I am home alone with the babes and our dog.  I've been wanting to write about Sookie. Did you know that she ate an entire pumpkin pie once.  Yep, snatched it off the table while we ran next door.  When we came home the pie tin was licked clean, glistening from the saliva she left behind.  She also ate half of a roasted chicken and she doesn't stop there, we had to make her vomit because she found a way to get chocolate treats off of our counter.  Oh and the first day that we got her, she escaped and ran through out the fields near our home and wouldn't come back, even for gravy dipped steak.  Good memories!

Inspite of all her naughty moments, she is the best dog for us.  She cuddles with me every night.  She follows me when I go to school late and wanders the halls saying hello to my fellow teachers.  She loves superman.  Anytime he cries, she comes to his rescue.  She is loyal to the T but still has a mind of her own.  

If only I could be that loyal.  I got the naughty part down. :)

I can do this

I see the light at the end of the tunnel! Give me one more week, and I can have work running smoothly and hopefully be better at being a mom and a wife. I can't wait. Until then I will just keep swimming. :)

Ps my fun students are coming for a class party at my house. I'm so excited!

Unedited

I'm worried about my other posts. I probably said too much. I do want to say that I write things for me. It's therapy. I don't care if people read it, who knows, maybe it will help someone. But if you chose to read, prepare yourselves to get the unedited me. I may say things that can be offensive and you may not understand parts of my logic. So if you get offended or worried, I'm truly sorry, and in that case I would advise you to stop reading. This has been the best thing for me. I usually try and hide my insecurities. Some people think I am so strong, well this is the real me. Unedited and learning to be ok with it. :)

Forgiveness

My hubby came home at 2:00 am from his late shift. I woke up and had an overwhelming feeling to hug his guts out. :) I was still sad, and am still today, but I got a good cry out, wrote in my journal and got 'some' shut eye so now I can deal with the stress of life.

He hugged me back like he did when we first realized we loved each other. And repeated over and over, "I love you." 

He then asked me if I had to go to the bathroom. "huh!" what a weird question after a hug. But he said it with a smirk so I knew something was up. An of course after someone asks you if you have to pee, even if you didn't before, the comment triggers the pee part of your brain and ya just gotta go. :) so up I got and waiting for me on our bathroom sink was a letter of 8 reasons why he loves me. I won't share those reasons. That's just for me, but I will say that it was the most well written and honest thoughts he has shared with me in a long time. It was incredible. I've read it over and over again and I'm amazed at how humble he is and how willing he is to change some things and also so willing to forgive me.

Forgiveness is key. I realized today that its okay to share feelings as long as we also share forgiveness, and I am really good at sharing feelings, but not forgiving. J (hubby) is not so good at sharing feelings, but amazing at offering true forgiveness. So maybe that's why we work so well. And hopefully we can learn from each other to become better at the parts we are week in.

Ps I'm getting my haircut today. That makes everything better.

Melodramatic Me

I'm having a hard time tonight.  My husband and I have been having more disagreements than usual.  We are both stressed and can't do anything about it. We need money and education so our time is limited. This makes me feel so sad.  I hate feeling like this.  To be honest, I have been having a hard time for the past few weeks.  Some days are wonderful, but then there are days like this, where everything just explodes and all emotions are at a high.  Usually I don't like to write when I am like this.  I feel like I am complaining and that makes me a bad person.  But tonight, I want to write.  I want others to know how I feel, and I just wish that my husband could understand my feelings.  That's the story of every woman's life. Right? I shouldn't be so hurt, but I can't help it.  

Sometimes, I wonder if depression is creeping up again.  I hate that feeling even more.  Our caseworker warned me about post pardon depression, yes it happens to adoptive parents as well, and I think we might be feeling some of that.  It has nothing to do with our son, it has everything to do with not feeling like we are on the same page anymore.  We were so different, but could mesh super well.  My hubby and I. Now our personalities have become more distinct and we are at the point where we resent each other sometimes.  He resents that I work.  I resent that I have to work.  He resents that I don't make dinner as much, I resent that I don't have time to cook.  I resent him for still being in school and not having a full time job. He resents me for having a full time job. (Really it is a full time with weekends and holidays on top of overtime, type of job). The list could go on. 

I'm nervous to write this, because his family members might read this.  But this is my journal so I've got to tell the truth about how I feel. Oh, I hope they actually don't read this.  It would give them a good reason to not like me. I should have just kept this private. Ugh.

The worst thing is that I do love my husband so much.  That's why it hurts so badly.  Now, I sound super melodramatic . . . This has got to be depression talking. Someone once told me that the person who will hurt you the most will be the person you love the most.  I get that now, it's not because that person is mean, it's because you love them so much that you don't want to disappoint them and you really do care what they think. 

I hope birth mommy doesn't want to take back superman when she reads this.  I'm sure she will read it at some point. 

Why do I have to be so honest with my feelings?  It's my best and worst quality.  For sure my worst most of the time. 

Well, maybe since I have vented, I can get over these feelings.  Get back to normal and stop being stupid. 

Friends in high places

I have friends in high places.  Maybe not high places in the worlds' eye, but definitely in mine.  I actually am reluctant to say this, because I hate it when someone thinks that I am better than I am, but I truly think that these friends would be on the top of any totem poll if compared to the rest of the world.  

One of my best friends and her beautiful family came to visit me this weekend.  It was such a wonderful feeling to have them here.  Her husband is amazing. I think of him like a brother.  I feel like he should have been born into my family, he would have fit in well.  Actually, my bestie says that she married the boy version of me.  Weird, but kinda true. Their beautiful little girl is practically my niece.  When I talk about her, I actually refer to her as a niece.  I truly love her like I would my own daughter. Actually, superman reminds me of what she was like when she was a baby.  I wonder if superman will end of being as determined and spirited as she.  :) If so, good luck to me!  Then there is my bestie.  She always knows when I need someone, and builds me up when I'm down.  I don't have any reservations when I'm around her.  She is as close as a sister and as in tune as a mother.  

Bestie and I used to think we were so alike, until we married our husbands. Then we realized that our husbands are more like the friend than the friends are. Bestie and I were both bugged when we realized that. 

Another friend is turning out to be birth momma.  We are both friends with bestie and went on a walk tonight.  I got to meet her best friend as well.  It was so good to hang out, as friends.  Not just birth mom/ adoptive. Mom.  It was fun, relaxing and peaceful.  Loved every minute. Superman was in heaven to be around so many people who loved him. 

Broken

I was watching a show today, where a couple finds out they are expecting.  They go through the moment where the unexpected truth is shocking and unwelcome. But then they realize the beauty of the situation, and share a moment of pure joy. I assume, a joy that can only come from realizing that you and your true love have created a miracle. A little bit of both of you.

If the show were to continue, I am sure they would ask questions like these, "Will it be a girl? Boy? Who will they look more like? Will they act like me, you, or be a perfect mixture of the both of us?"

As I watched,  pain shot through my heart. I thought that the pain of infertility would disappear when we adopted.  It didn't.  I hope to make sense of this and not have anyone misunderstand me.  The pain I feel has nothing to do with Superman.  It has everything to do with me feeling inferior.   My family is complete (until we feel we need to adopt again) and it is beautiful!  I love Superman beyond anything I could have imagined.  I feel that he is part of me and my husband, almost like I knew him before he came here.  So having him be part of our family is not hard, it is miraculous.   Yet, infertility is something totally different.  It's still painful even though our son has found us.

I think this sadness will never go away. It hurts to think that I never got to have that moment of uncertainty in telling my husband we are expecting.  I never got to have the 'pure joy' moment of realizing that I would be bringing a beautiful soul into this world.  I know this sounds stupid, and I'm crying as I write it, but I still feel broken. It comes and goes, and yes it is different than before I became a mommy, but it is still real.  I feel like I am unworthy to have that experience.  I know I am wrong and that my emotions are talking, but it is a real feeling.  Why can't I get over the fact that I haven't been able to carry a child. How come I still feel sad, even though I have this beautiful boy to look after?

I must admit, anytime I look at that handsome face of my newborn, I am never sad.  I've never felt like I missed out when I am holding him. I guess he is my peace.  He gives me comfort and helps me realize that even though I may be 'broken' I am still made for something.

Journaling

I wrote this on Monday August 11. I couldn't post it then. 

I taught a lesson Sunday about journaling.  I never realized the importance of it.  I knew that I should do it.  I should write my thoughts for my children and their children to read.  But why? What if they don't want to read it? What if it is a waste of my time. And to be honest, writing stresses me out.  I worry about what others will think of me and if I use correct grammar or not.  

 Now I realize the importance of record keeping.  It's not only for my children, it's to help me.  I need to find out who I am.  I feel like I am a different person at every stage of my life.  Now that I am a new mother, adoptive mother, I am not sure who I am.  How should I be feeling?  Am I the same as a mother who carried her child? I get the occasional comment that suggests I couldn't understand what a mother feels like, because I didn't carry my son.  Sometimes I want to reach out and slap the person who says it and say, "How stupid are you! Don't you think I would like to understand! Does it matter! How inconsiderate." Then I realize people are just naive. I can't blame them for not understanding my situation.  They haven't been there. But it still hurts to her that. 

To be honest, I am nervous.  I worry that I'm not doing things right.  What does the birth mother think?  Is she happy with her decision?  Am I being the mother she wanted for her child?    She reassures me that I am doing a good job,  but my insecurities come out still. I'm not sure if I feel like 'his' mother yet. Will I ever? 

I am scared.  I am absolutely terrified that I might mess this all up. Sometimes I think that I am not worthy of this wonderful family and to be the mother of Superman.  For the longest time, I thought that I couldn't get pregnant because I must have been doing something wrong.  Why else would God not send a child to us? I don't feel like that now.  It is very clear to me why I needed to experience infertility.  It taught me to understand others.  It taught me to love more and to have compassion where I didn't understand infertility  before. A friend once said, "God cares more about our spiritual growth than our physical." I guess you could say that I grew spiritually as I was feeling physical broken. 

Here are some worries I have. They're probably stupid, irrational worries, but they are there.

 I worry I will ruin my relationship with my husband. I'm not sure why I feel like that. I guess I realize that I have so many weaknesses and sometimes they get the better of me. Jeff is so good.  He may not be the 'Peter Priesthood' type, but he has such a pure heart.  I feel like the sinner in our relationship.

I worry Superman won't love me as much as I love him.  

I worry I won't be willing to  sacrifice what I need to sacrifice at the time I need to.  That probably doesn't make any sense to you.  But it makes sense to me.

I worry I won't be able to help little Superman understand how important God is.  Life is so much better with a solid belief in our father in heaven and our savior Jesus Christ.  I'll have you know that I don't believe in God just because it makes life easier, I have many reasons to believe, but an easier life is an extra perk.

I worry I won't be the mom superman needs.  

I hate to worry and I'm usually not a worry wart  (maybe it comes with being a mommy) but I'm grateful for this time of reflection.  Some thing about writing down my worries helps me realize that things will be okay.

Birth Mom

I am lying in bed and can't stop thinking about my little Superman's birth mommy. I love her more than I think she will ever know.

She is a true friend and now we share a bond that no one else could have. 

Not only do I love her because she gave me an opportunity to be a mother, but I genuinely love and admire her because of her character. 

Here is a list of all the reasons why I love Mama Superman.

1. Brave

2. Spiritual

3. Forgiving

4. Strong willed

5. Intelligent

6. Charitable

7. Funny

8. Beautiful

9. Happy

10. Logical

11. Protective

12. Good energy

13. Friendly

14. Loves to give service

 15. Inspired

The list could go on forever. I hope she knows how wonderful she is too. 

Sacrifice an Blessing

I realized something new. The sacrifices we have to make are replaced with other good experiences. This may be a silly example, but today our extended family wanted to go to a cave. I live for adventure and constantly crave an adrenaline rush no matter how minor it is. So for me to go to a cave, I was beyond excited!  Nature, bats, stalagmites... I'm such a nerd. Not only do I love the rush, but I love the science behind it. 

I had been on the fence with taking Superman. He is still so fragile and only a little over a month old. He has also been fussy lately. I feel terrible when he cries and nothing I can do helps to get his gas bubbles out. So it wasn't surprising that when we got to the cave, I got a sinking feeling that I would not be going and neither would my son. Jeff felt the same way. Except he is more cautious than I so he had been against it from the beginning. It just takes me longer to realize the danger to things.

I was embarrassed to tell the rest of the family, so I made Jeff do it. Of course there was protest and not everyone understood, maybe no one did. But when I get a feeling I have to follow it. I don't know what would have happened, maybe nothing and maybe this was a little test from God to see if I would still listen to the spirit and put my son first instead of my own desires. Who knows, and who cares. The thing that matters is that I have a peace in my heart that wasn't there before.

Now Superman is sleeping in my arms, fast asleep. Dreaming of milk coated  lips and a full belly. And as I look at him I fall more deeply in love. I'm  memorizing his auburn tinted hair with blond roots forming. I'm  memorizing his eyelashes that are just now starting to fill out. I'm memorizing the blood vessels that have created webs over his eyelids. I'm memorizing his tiny hands and how he likes to suck on his first two fingers and then looses them with the twitch of a reflex. I'm memorizing his long fingers and toes, and how his long feet have never fit in the newborn socks. I'm trying to memorize every detail, because I know the days vanish like a magic trick and soon they will be gone.

Maybe the spirit knew nothing would go wrong, but that I need to realize more of the beauty of my son. As that is the experience I need right now. It wasn't a sacrifice, it was a blessing.

Journaling

I can't post my thoughts because my entry is on another device that does not have internet for a few days, but here is a portion of a talk that I read this weekend. Changed my views of journal writing.

Spencer W. Kimball, “The Angels May Quote from It,” New Era, Feb. 2003, 32–35 

Your own journal, like most others, will tell of problems as old as the world and how you dealt with them.

Your journal should contain your true self rather than a picture of you when you are “made up” for a public performance. There is a temptation to paint one’s virtues in rich color and whitewash the vices, but there is also the opposite pitfall of accentuating the negative. Personally I have little respect for anyone who delves into the ugly phases of the life he is portraying, whether it be his own or another’s. The truth should be told, but we should not emphasize the negative. Even a long life full of inspiring experiences can be brought to the dust by one ugly story. Why dwell on that one ugly truth about someone whose life has been largely circumspect?

The good biographer will not depend on passion but on good sense. He will weed out the irrelevant and seek the strong, novel, and interesting. Perhaps we might gain some help from reading Plutarch’s Lives, where he grouped 46 lives in pairs, a Greek and a Roman in each pair. He tried to epitomize the most celebrated parts of their stories rather than to insist upon every slightest detail of them.

Your journal is your autobiography, so it should be kept carefully. You are unique, and there may be incidents in your experience that are more noble and praiseworthy in their way than those recorded in any other life. There may be a flash of illumination here and a story of faithfulness there; you should truthfully record your real self and not what other people may see in you.

Your story should be written now while it is fresh and while the true details are available.

A journal is the literature of superiority. Each individual can become superior in his own humble life.

What could you do better for your children and your children’s children than to record the story of your life, your triumphs over adversity, your recovery after a fall, your progress when all seemed black, your rejoicing when you had finally achieved?

Some of what you write may be humdrum dates and places, but there will also be rich passages that will be quoted by your posterity.

Get a notebook, a journal that will last through all time, and maybe the angels may quote from it for eternity. Begin today and write in it your goings and comings, your deepest thoughts, your achievements and your failures, your associations and your triumphs, your impressions and your testimonies. Remember, the Savior chastised those who failed to record important events.

Miss you like mangos.

I love mangos.  There is no better treat than a ripe mango that is as smooth as butter.  The first time I ever ate a mango was in New York City. It was delicious! I couldn't believe that I had never eaten one before. The next day I bought another one. Couldn't wait to eat it and when I finally did, nothing.  The magic of the mango was just bland, stringy and did not compare at all to the other I had previously.  From then on I went on searches to find the perfect mango.  It was like chasing the dragon. I had to have my mango fix! I eat a lot of mangos now, and i am always on the search for a good mango.

Here are a few things that I love like mangos:
1. My husband.
I miss him every time he is at work. 24 on 24 off stinks! He is a paramedic, and I love that he helps people, but sometimes I just want him to help me.  Be home with me and love me.  He does do that, but it's a sacrifice for me to not have him home at all on some days.

2. My little superman.
He brings my heart so much joy.  I love how he eats and looks like a little milk drunk baby. He is my everything.

3. New York City
I miss their fruit stands, and even the smell of garbage that lingers in all of the alley ways.  I think of New York every time I get a whiff of garbage.  It's weird, but I love it.
I miss it.  I am a country girl.  I was raised on a small farm.  I thought for sure that I would never love New York as much as I loved the mountains ands fields of home.  But it all become home to me, the busy streets, crazy people, warm subways and beautiful parks amongst the asphalt.

4. My home town
We moved my parents to a smaller home. I miss where I grew up.  I drove past the home the other day and the lawn hasn't been mowed, weeds everywhere and yellow patches on the lawn.  I miss the way it used to look.  I loved growing up there.  I loved the fields and e sunsets.  So beautiful.

5. God
He is so good.

6. Family and friends
Many of my friends I consider family, and I consider my family friends.  Isn't that how it should be.

Well, I'm tired and that's all I have for today.

Turkey legs

I had the worst pains of my life yesterday. I once told my husband that period pains are the equivalent of tearing apart limbs. Picture you carving a turkey.  You have carved the white meat and are now ready to work on the dark.  You go for the drumstick first, so you pull and twist until suddenly 'pop'. You have ripped out the drumstick from the socket.  That is how my hips feel when I am cramping.  Constant pressure and twisting pain.  Then add the stomach cramping that comes and goes every 30 seconds and there you have it.  The beauty of being a woman.

The worst part was that I was in so much pain that I couldn't take care of my baby. I tried just dealing with the pain.  That's what moms do right! So I sat in our rocking chair and fed superman.  Then the pain grew.  I had to put him in his crib and lie down. He began crying, he was still hungry. So I got up and went to hold him and nearly passed out.  I thought I had maybe got up too fast, so I sat back down with the heating pad on my hips and tried again. The pain became so severe that I couldn't make it to the crib.  My husband was away, so my sister came to help.  The pain was excruciating.  By far the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.  I honestly thought I would have to go to the ER.  Luckily our neighbors were home and her husband came over to give me a blessing.  A blessing of the sick and afflicted is done by men who have the priesthood of god.  I am a member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Men you are worthy can hold the priesthood, which gives them the authority to act, in the name of god to bless people and to baptize.  I've had many blessings in my life, my father and husband usually perform them, but neither were available. I was lying in bed, had thrown-up 3 times and couldn't take care of my son. I needed a miracle.  When the neighbors came and placed their hands on my head, just like how Christ did it in his day, they blessed me to have peace, be healed, and to sleep.  They also blessed that my son would be alright while I was recovering.  Almost immediately the cramping became less and I was calm.  The wife to one of our neighbors came and rocked my baby until he could feel peace too.  (She has a grandma's touch). Within 15 min. I was able to hold my son and comfort him.  Afterward I fell asleep and woke up with energy and no pain.

I am so grateful for the priesthood of god.  It is a real thing.  I just wish my husband could have been home to help me.  He has to work for 24 hour shifts and then is home for 24 hours.  I just miss him. 

Spiders

Spiders cover
Plastered
Clinging to walls
Spiders hide
Darkened
Webbing across the floor
Spiders wait
Pounce
Spin then devour prey

Okay, so I am not a good poet, but I tried.  And I don't have to care what ya'll think of it so that's that.

Can you tell spiders have been on my mind.  Last night I killed 11 Hobo spiders.  Yes their bites can cause harm to humans.  They are huge and, well, disgusting.  I couldn't even pick them up after smashing them with my shoe.  I used to be brave, but I'm done pretending.  I hate them.

Zombie to Superman

Have you ever been so tired that you really question if you are a zombie or not.  I mean really think that the normal life is a dream and that you are a living-dead person, with no brain?  I have that many times when I wake up with my son to feed him.  He is only a few weeks old and I know he has to eat.  I expect to wake up every few hours, yet that knowledge doesn't make it any easier to stop a REM cycle.

I really like my sleep, but I love zombie land.  I love the noises he makes when he is eating and the unnatural kicks he can't control as he is trying to fall back asleep.  To think I may not have been his mommy.  

Yesterday, an adoption group stopped by to congratulate us. They gave us a gift.  In it was a onsie.  It had the superman logo on it and said, "Superman Was Adopted Too!" Not only is Clark Kent a hottie, he has one of the best adoption stories ever! Everyone wanted him.  His birth family sent him to earth for his safety. Of course they wanted to raise him, and if they could have they would have done a superb job.   Unfortunately their world was in shambles.  They couldn't raise him and keep him safe, so they loved him enough to realize that they no longer could provide for him in the world they lived in.  They made the hardest decision of their lives, and sent him to earth.  They sacrificed everything to keep him alive.  The love his parents had for their son was pure and everlasting, and never went away.

Then the adoptive parents of Clark came into his life.  It was sudden and unexpected.  I imagine a bit scary too.  They became Mom and Dad to him.  They provided what they could to help him reach his potential.  They didn't care that he was different from them or had special powers from his birth family.  They loved him unconditional and sacrificed their lives for him in a variety of ways. He was their son, no question about it.

My son is a Superman.  Everyone wanted him. Everyone loved him, but he was placed because this was the safest place for him. It was sudden, unexpected and at some points ... scary.  I wonder if his genetics, or his environment was what made superman a hero.  I like to think that it was both.

From zombies to superman, now that's an entry. 

Ps I write this as I sit next to my son's crib while he falls asleep.  A little here and a little there, and now I am done.

Angels

What a title to start off with.  I don't know where to begin... First, I found s hole in my shirt today.  That stinks! But the real truth is that there are so many other disappointments in life that a hole in a shirt is the least of my worries, or anyone else's for that matter. And if that is the biggest worry that you have, then you have got to get a grip on reality! Life is full of heartache.  But with that heartache there are miracles.

God finds ways to make bad situations turn into something beautiful. I don't know if this will be a theme of my blog, but it's a start.  I'm only 28, I know... I know.... I'm a youngen, but throughout my short life that is the one thing that seems to be constant.  God is good and wants to bless everyone.  The catch is, do we let him?

I picture our relationship with God, that of a love hungry Cupid (God) and sheilded humans (us). Cupid constantly sends his arrows, hoping it will penetrate the human hearts so that they can feel Cupid's love for them.  But when the arrows come flying at the heart of a human, the natural instinct is to put up a shield and deflect the arrow.   What if we were to let our guards down, what if we allowed ourselves to feel his love? Would it change things? Would we be more wounded/scarred? Most likely.  But would we be more humble, more, forgiving, and more charitable? I think yes.

I like... no... LOVE the song by Garth Brooks, "Standing Outside The Fire". At first, I liked it because I thought it meant to be strong, courageous and to battle hard things.  And I was that person.  A bit of a zealot, I'm not proud to say.  I thought that I didn't need anyone or any thing to help me through this life.  I was strong enough to handle what came my way, until things came that I couldn't handle. I was driving in my car, jamming to this heartfelt song, when the true meaning of the words rang in my mind.  It wasn't saying to be tough, in fact it says,

We call them cool

Those hearts that have no scars to show

The ones that never do let go

And risk it the tables being turned

We call them fools

Who have to dance within the flame

Who chance the sorrow and the shame 

That always come with getting burned

'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire

Love is like a fire.  You do risk getting burned, but why play it cool/safe, when the possibility of love is out there.  Now I am not a hopeless romantic.  Actually far from it, I find many romantic movies cheesy and WILL be cynical  whenever I can. I am not suggesting that I don't love romantically. I am madly, in love, with my husband.  No question about that, but there are so many kinds of 'love'.

The pure love of Christ is called charity. This is the love that God wants us to feel.  This is the love that we reject every time we hold up our shield and reject his arrows, and this is the love that he would like us to have for our fellow men.

Imagine a world where all persons had true charity.  What a world that would be. Too bad it is not so.  I guess I can start something, change the world one person at a time, and I will start with the woman in the mirror. 

Angels surround us.  That is a fact.  You may not believe me, but I know they are real. And sometimes, we are the angels for someone else.  We are the answer to a young girls prayers, we are the answer to a struggling boy wondering which road to take, and we are the angels,  only if we allow God to penetrate our hearts.