The idea for Parenthood for Me was “conceived” in October of 2008. We became an official not for profit corporation in January, 2009. In November I started handing out business cards saying I was starting a non profit. I had no idea where to begin; I just knew that I needed to do this. My husband and I wanted to do something to make a difference. So many wonderful things have happened in the past six months. Becoming a part of the ALI community has opened up my world and the people that read this blog have played such an intricate part in the rapid growth of Parenthood for Me. We are slowly working our way towards being able to offer grant money to people in need. The first grants will be awarded in spring of 2010. It is frustrating that we cannot help people out financially sooner, but a grassroots charity takes time to build up. In the meantime I hope that people have found comfort and solace in reading our story and finding resources to deal with the hardship of infertility. I hope that our story of adoption touches people in the way we were touched when we found adoptive parents.

Today is a big day for Parenthood for Me and for myself personally. I have put my heart and soul into this non profit and my blogging and it seems to be paying off.
I received my copy of this month’s Adoptive Families Magazine and Parenthood for Me is listed in one of their articles for helping with the cost of adoption or ART. We made it into a national publication, and I am so happy to have the exposure. Hopefully we will see an increase in our supporters and potential donors. And, hopefully we will find families that we can help.

Stop by Show and Tell at Mel’s

What is The “Quotable Quotidian”

Going through infertility and being scared to death I would never be a mommy, there were so many things I longed to have in my life that went along with parenthood. I wanted all the widgets and gadgets and homemade blankets and cute little socks. It is amazing how much you notice when it comes to something you cannot have. Here’s a simple example. My brother had this trike for my niece- the kind with the handle in the back for the parent to steer. He used this as his means of transportation instead of a stroller. He took her out on strolls at the age of one because he found a strap for it so she wouldn’t fall off. My parents live 5 doors down from my brother, and every time I turned into my parent’s driveway and saw the tricycle parked outside their door I felt a pang of sorrow. It always hurt to see the little bike, especially when she was riding on it. I could not help but ask will I ever get to use a stroller or wagon or trike? Will I ever walk over here with my child?

One day a few years back I was watching my niece, and we were playing in her bedroom. I just could not stop staring at all the cute girly things in her room and how her mommy had decorated it so beautifully. I had been in her room a hundred times, but this time I had a few minutes to sit on her warm fluffy rug and be alone with her. The nursery exuded love and everything childlike- the shelves with the finger puppets and books, the piggy bank, the mobile. I hoped upon hope that I could decorate a room with such love, that one room in my house would be totally and completely for a child to grow up in. That same day I was talking to my niece in her room and reading a book, and I began to cry. I remember holding her tight and crying silent tears into her little neck. Oh, how I loved her.

Turns out the baby monitor was on outside where my brother was playing football with our cousins. One of them came upstairs to usher us outside; I think he was trying to save me from more exposure. They all knew my circumstances. It was weird, but I didn’t feel embarrassed that they may have heard me talking and crying with my niece. On the contrary I felt a little relief that I could reveal some of my pain without having to look them in the eye.

I used to buy a ton of clothes for my niece. It gave me hope for some reason. When I saw her wearing something I bought, I felt a greater connection to her. But walking into any store dedicated to babies and toddlers was like knocking the wind out of me; somehow I kept going back for more. As more time passed without a successful pregnancy I stayed away from all places baby, and either went in on a gift with friends or asked my mom to buy something for me. The grief became too much as the years went by and my cloud of sadness never had the ability to lift.

I have wondered since becoming a mom if I notice more things about my life as a parent than those who have not experienced infertility. Do I have a different outlook and heightened sense of awareness of every detail than those who had no trouble conceiving? It is a question that needs no definitive answer. However, it is common perception that those who have suffered do not take things for granted because they have a better understanding of how fragile life is. A cancer survivor probably looks at the beauty of life with more fortitude and grace than I do, and I consider myself very conscientious of living every day to the fullest, expressing my love for friends and family, and understanding that life is precious. However, I do not presume to have any idea what it feels like to face death, to be scared I will not see my children grow up or live to be old and gray with my husband.

What I do know is that I am always aware of the little things that come with parenting. I still smile when I see the bathtub toys strewn across the bottom of the tub. While grocery shopping I happily throw a box of $40 diapers in my shopping cart because I remember walking down that baby aisle with an empty heart just wishing I had a reason to buy a sippy cup or jar of baby food. When I see his 3 pair of shoes in a little pile near the door I heave a sigh of contentment. There are little feet in our house to fit those shoes. Thank goodness.

In celebration of our son’s arrival home from Korea we had a huge party, and we received one of those trikes as a gift. I had to register for it. Seeing my son in the seat smiling and ringing the little bell was my right of passage. A couple of weeks ago Min Man and I trekked down to Grandma and Grandpa’s house and I loved watching the tricycle’s brand new wheels get covered in dirt as we rolled down the sidewalk. Once again the pain of infertility slipped a little further from my heart.

Getting to this point in my life has very trying and difficult. Wishing to be parents for four years has left a dent on my soul. There were many, many low moments with each negative pregnancy test and failed medical procedure. Letting go the dream of getting pregnant and having a biological child came with a lot of soul searching. But I am so grateful we were able to move on to adoption and fulfill our parenthood dreams.

Tomorrow when my son wakes up talking to all his Sesame Street animals and gives me a huge grin with his perfect white teeth, I won’t remember my ectopic pregnancy or 6 failed IUI’s or 3 failed IVF cycles . I will look to the new day as his mommy. I will pick out another cute outfit for him, we will brush our teeth together, eat toast together and laugh and giggle together. We will learn together about loving and being a family.

Go to Mel’s for the rest of Show and Tell

In case you didn’t know I’m friends with Santa Claus. Yup, he lives about a quarter mile from my house. My brother gets to live right next door to him! Lucky son of a gun! Hell he is living in my grandma’s former house. Where’s Mrs. Claus you ask? She’s there too but as Santa said, “Don’t expect to see her donning some cutesy outfit. And, please don’t call her Mrs. Claus.” Santa Claus was a real estate client of ours. Do you have any idea the kind of expectations one feels they have to live up to when catering to a guy like Santa Claus?

Anyway, it turns out that Santa Claus has a granddaughter adopted from Korea. Santa Claus and the Mrs. are aware of the pain of infertility because they watched their son and daughter-in-law struggle to have a family for many years. Ah, kindred spirits found in Santa and the Mrs. Who knew? What a small world indeed. Infertility and adoption all the way up in the North Pole?

Here is his card. Just ask him for one, and he will give it to you; they are always in his pocket. Sometimes he will hand you his card with out solicitation- sending you a message you might want to listen to.

There he is, my friend. He and his wife love my son and are always asking after him. We stop over every once in awhile as he is on our wagon tour. And, being next door to my brother and a few houses down from my parents, we inevitably bump into one another. The other thing I love about being friends with Santa Claus is that he supports our non profit and thinks it is a great idea. He offered himself up as a raffle prize the other day. He told me to stop by because he wanted to talk. It was so touching because he came up with the idea at 3 in the morning. He has retired from his Santa commitments but is willing to pull out the old white and red suit (the beard is real) to allow some lucky children to sit on his lap and feel the magic. Young and old alike will be captivated by all that Santa Claus emulates- wonderment, innocence, happiness, and comfort.

Thank you, J & P for all of your support. You really know how to make a girl (and a little boy) happy.

Everywhere I went, he went. If I left the living room to get a bowl of cereal and he happened to be hanging out on the back of the couch, he flew after me and landed on my shoulder. We used to eat breakfast together before school. I would put him on the table and give him some cheerios while I ate my cereal. Cockatiels are in the parrot family and tend to be smarter than the average canary. But, I like to think that Chuck was special. He used to do tricks and play little games; I took care of him for 22 years. He was a great companion. The day he died I was heartbroken. I lost my best friend, my childhood pet. I was married and in my second house by the time Chuck passed away. He had been a part of my life for so long. It was amazing.

AJ loves his first dog, Punkin. He talks about her all the time and how she played mommy protector around him. She used to sleep under his crib. She was a great dog, and he misses her to this day even though she has been gone 20+ years.

Here she is as a pup on her first Christmas.

The day we brought her home AJ and I became a family. We potty trained her, taught her to walk on a leash, doted on her, brought her on vacations and taught her how to be a good citizen. We couldn’t wait to bring a baby home so Lucy could be a mommy. As the years went on and there was no human baby, Lucy became more of our baby than ever. She got us through some very rough times due to her natural charm and amusing characteristics. Plus she is the softest dog I have ever met. She makes a great crying companion.

I believe in the healing power of animals. Humans need animals to teach them love and compassion. You can learn a lot by loving an animal. Some people will never “get” that. But, they are missing out. Lucy continues to be a great source of love and companionship for all of us. She is now Min man’s sister. It is wonderful to see them together. Finally Lucy has a sibling. And, she acts like most older sisters would. She thinks he’s in the way half the time and wants all the attention focused on her. They also fight over food.

I remembered something I witnessed last Fall that is still utterly amazing to me. It showed me just how much animals do feel despite what many people say. As I was driving down a side street I saw a squirrel squirming near the side of the road. I wanted to stop and help move it off the road so it could die in peace; I didn’t want it getting run over again. I circled back around to try and help the squirrel. I saw that another squirrel was standing at the opposite side of the road a little skittish as my car inched forward. I kept going and pulled over and watched the squirrel who was now behind me. He went over to his suffering friend and tried to pick him up off the road and move him to a safe spot. I watched his several attempts at doing so. After cars stopped passing by he successfully carried his friend to safety under a huge oak tree. I was fascinated. People may have thought I was nuts, but I could not stop watching this squirrel try and save his friends life. He licked the wounds and hovered around trying to protect him as he clearly was having a hard time breathing. Eventually the injured squirrel died and his friend picked him up in his mouth and carried him up into the tree- safe at last. It was one of the most touching things I had ever witnessed. That may sound silly but it was. I guess it’s because you don’t expect much from a squirrel. We don’t expect a lot of from many animals, but they have a great capacity to love.

I never pegged myself as a big animal advocate. I believe in treating animals humanely and that people need animals, not the other way around. Maybe they benefit from our companionship, but it is us humans that live fuller lives when we co-exist with animals. Whether it is bird watching, having a fish pond in the back yard, visiting the zoo or rescuing a cat or dog. Their presence gives human life more meaning and teaches us that we cannot exist without them.

We will all succumb to the circle of life in due time.

My dad’s father died four years ago on April 11. He was the first grandparent I lost; I was 27 years old. My grandparents never lived near us when I grew up. At 55 my grandfather retired from Eastman Kodak, and he and my grandma moved out to Prescott, Arizona. My grandfather helped to design and build his dream home on a mountainside looking out over the hills of Prescott and the small city below. He wanted land and space and clean air. He and my grandmother were natives of New York City. They both grew up in the city and didn’t have the experience of suburbia. After World War II my grandparents moved to Rochester, NY to settle and raise a family. Those were the days when Kodak was king and Rochester was the headquarters. Many people moved here for a job and stayed in that job for 30+ years until retirement. My grandparents were the first owners of their 2 bedroom, 1300 square foot cape-cod set on a 50 foot lot;it was part of one of the many new developments popping up in small towns across America. Rochester was growing as were many cities after the end of the war. After having their third child they decided not to move but to add on and create a first floor master and another bedroom on the second floor. From there they had 2 more children.

Even though my grandparents lived in Arizona and I in NY, we were very close. They came back once a year and we went out to visit for many vacations. It was beautiful out west and such a different place than I was used to. I have many lovely memories of my grandparents home in Arizona and all the things we used to do when we were there- play on the huge boulders, sneaking candy out of grandpa’s candy drawer, eating peanuts and throwing the shells off their expansive deck overlooking the city.

My grandparents moved back to Rochester when they were too old and sick to take care of themselves. It was very sad to see my grandfather lose his wonderful home in the desert. Getting old is so difficult and it was hard to watch both of my grandparents decline in health and their ability to live their lives. My grandfather was an engineer, a pioneer in his thinking and an overall intelligent and wise man. He taught his children many things, and one of his biggest lessons was that you can do and be anything you want.

Today my father handed me an article dated 1996 with a letter attached to it written by my grandfather. The article is basically about American ideals and the contradictions our society sometimes faces- our respect for the individual, economic vitality, passion for progress lead us to more crime, family breakdown (higher divorce rate) and economic inequality. The letter written by my grandfather states that as Americans we had gotten away from the importance of family, a de-emphasis on right or wrong, less respect for authority.
He wrote,” Somehow we’ve got to get back to strong families, a restoration of our Constitution, more acceptance of personal responsibility… We don’t have to have all the bad things with the good things.”

My perfect moment is what my father said when he handed me the letter. “I want people to remember my dad for who he was.” He wants his legacy as a great thinker to carry on. He wants his children who may have been too young to understand their grandfather and his own grandchildren to know their great grandfather better. I know my dad idolized his father. It’s wonderful to think of my dad and his dad in this way. I know that I idolize my mother and father, and I can only hope that my children think the same of me some day.

Visit other Perfect Moments at Lori’s

*on a side note- I wonder what my grandpa would think of the fact that we are still facing these issues in America 12 years later- on top of all the other horrible stories coming out everyday of people being swindled and taken advantage of.