We also have the Artwork for Building Families Art Show 2010 poster. $10. These items are not available on our website yet. Leave a comment if you are interested in purchasing.

Next I will be working on Bowling for Babies November 14. Fundraising is so much fun but very time consuming. I will have a break for the holidays. Then we will be gearing for the 2nd annual Family-Building Dinner in April, 2011.

I want to say thank you to Michaela at A Single Journey for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger award. It is so nice to be recognized especially during a time when I don’t feel like I have been paying enough attention to my blog. There are so many posts sitting in my brain going unwritten. In fact, my lack of writing keeps me up at night. I need to get these thoughts out of my head!

I appreciate everyone that reads and follows. It means a lot to me.

The rules of the blog are to provide 7 fact about myself:

1) I once aspired to be on the show Star Search as a singer

2) I am very sentimental and sappy

3) I applied to be in the FBI

4) I am not scared of spiders or most bugs

5) I love any kind of fruit pie. Not much of a cake-eater.

6) My hair was pin straight until 4th grade. I now have curls.

7) Family and friends are the greatest gifts in my life

And finally watch this Happy Video.

So inspiring.

On Saturday I drove home from a bridal shower crying. My hiatus from wedding showers left me completely unprepared for feeling my infertile self that afternoon. After all, I can and did get married.

I forgot how much emphasis is placed on what is supposed to be the next step after marriage: children. There were more comments about having babies than about the extremely important act of entering into marriage for a lifetime. I understand that as a society love, marriage, and baby is the straight and narrow, the way in which things are expected to evolve. And no one meant any harm. But it pisses me off. What an expectation to place on women (and men). Give the happy couple a chance to understand the commitment of marriage. Lay it on the line, give advice. It’s hard work. Then hopefully, if they want, children will come.

I hesitated before writing this post because I do not want to offend anyone. But after all I have been through to have a family I wish people could understand that getting pregnant is such a gift. It should not be assumed or expected that it will definitely happen for every couple. I understand that people are not going to attend a wedding shower and start citing statistics from their OB/GYN about fertility and the chance of conception or bust out with the story of their cousin who had 6 miscarriages over five years. No one wants to hear that anyway.
But why not focus more on the union of two people and how their lives will be changed and challenged?

As I sat in the front of the room helping the bride open her gifts I heard the first comment about how breaking a bow means you’re having a baby. How many bows will she break?

I think by the end she was up to 8 children.

I felt my face get hot and the placid fake smile appear upon my lips. I felt glance in my direction surveying my reaction to all the baby talk.

It’s scary when I realized I almost made a comment out loud, “Damn, if only I had broken a bow at my wedding shower! Is that what my problem is?”

Or how about,” Why don’t we just hope she can get pregnant and experience the miracle of conceiving one healthy and happy child?”

I have turned into the person who tells jokes to make other people feel comfortable around me and my inability to conceive. I try to make light of talking about maternity clothes and burp clothes and ultrasounds. In order to keep up I interject some witty remark or a tidbit of information I learned from someone who has actually been pregnant. What I really want to say is nothing, act stoic. make it obvious that I will never have to decide at what month I will have to splurge on the maternity pants or whether we want the technician to reveal the gender of our growing fetus.

After all, I should be over all that infertility stuff. I have a beautiful little boy. I am a mom. I am lucky. That’s the bitch of it all, though. Clearly the agony of infertility is one heartbeat away, always.

Still. I slipped away at first chance and headed to the ladies room where I could remove the fake smile and stare at my sad eyes in the mirror. A deep breath and cold water on my cheeks led me back to the gathering where I waited until it was the polite time to exit.

I am a mother and I can relate to stories of child development and proudly chime in with my own funny anecdotes about what horribly inappropriate utterances a 3 year old can chant in the check-out line. But I’m different. I always will be. I wasn’t allowed the simplicity of awaiting motherhood after making a decision it was time to become parents. I wasn’t allowed the opportunity to carefully plan out how I was to tell my husband we were expecting and subsequently decide when to tell our parents. All that washed away with the flood of loss over a now 6 year chronic condition-pain.

I still cannot hold babies. I’ve realized that it is a boycott of sorts- my way of avoiding the pain of looking into that tiny, beautiful face. The kibosh on my visions of soothing my own newborn or growing infant, memorizing their features and equivocating whether they have my eyebrows and hands or the mouth of my mother-in-law.

Recently I found a new way to torture myself as I ponder asking a friend what it was like to hear his wife tell him he was to be a father. Is my vision true? Did he get teary eyed and hug her and feel his love for her swell knowing she was carrying his child? Do I need to know this memory of his? Of course not. Do I want to understand something else I have missed out on? I guess so. Maybe the reality is that he was scared shitless and got in his car to grab a six pack of beer. Probably not but you never know. I’m sure I romanticize the scenario a little bit, but I betcha I’m pretty spot on.

A couple of months ago my very best friend had a beautiful shower under a tent in the August heat. She looked so at ease and comfortable and pretty with her belly protruding. I am so happy for her and the Mr. I would not have missed it for the world. At the very end she thanked everyone for attending and their generosity. And much to my surprise she mentioned how grateful she and her husband are to me and my husband for all we taught them about the miracle of parenthood. We showed them that if one is dedicated to raising a child and loving a child, it can happen no matter what. The comment was a lovely thing to say. But it was unexpected and I had to leave the room. Her recognition set me apart and I cannot say it upset me to feel different this time because if I hadn’t been given the choice of adoption, I would not be a mother to my little boy. Maybe it was difficult hearing her say that about me while casting my eyes on the baby growing inside her belly. However, her compassion and understanding and desire to relay that to her guests made me feel good.

She gets it. And that’s all I can ask.

This was his first catch! We were so proud.

Barry the bullfrog.

Tommy the turtle to the right of the first rock.

Walking with Gramma on our land.

Papa’s tractor

Please visit Weebles Wobblog for more Perfect Moments.

Three years ago my husband and I knew we wanted to adopt. We had chosen the agency, decided on international adoption, and knew which country. We were not completely ready to put in our paperwork. Financials held us back and emotionally we needed a little more time before we were completely up to the challenge of adoption. But we were sure adoption was the way we would become parents.

In October of 2007 we had our first meeting coordinated by our adoption agency. It was a gathering at the social worker’s home. Over bagels and coffee we met six other couples who were at different stages of their adoption journey. Some were there just for information, others had recently received their “referral” and knew who their son or daughter would be, and there were two couples who were just waiting for that call. The call that would put them on a plane to meeting their new son or daughter. I remember distinctly the names of the babies in waiting, Priscilla and Charlie. We also got to meet two families and their children. This helped me to fully embrace adoption. Seeing these parents and their children helped me to envision what my family would be like, look like. Meeting their children helped all the emotions I had stirring in my gut- anxiety, fear, excitement, sadness- swirl together into one emotion, anticipation of being a mother. I was so happy knowing I would definitely be a mother.

We had our home study in November of 2007. The interview process was a nice experience. We were happy to tell our story and why we wanted to adopt a child. Two weeks later, as promised, I received a phone call at work. We were having a boy! What an amazing day. Better yet was the next day when we made the 25 minute drive to the social worker’s home to find out more information about our son and see his face. We chose to hear his story before seeing his picture. We listened intently and learned about his health and progression as a 10 month old.

Finally M. revealed his picture and both our jaws dropped. He was sooooo cute. And the name that we had always wanted for a boy suited him. My heart was in my throat. And I wanted him home that day. I loved him already.

Christmas was a wonderful time. After so many years of wishing we would receive gifts for our baby, it was amazing to open box after box of items for our little boy. The pictures we had of him were placed in ornament frames adorned on everyone’s Christmas trees. We included his picture in our Christmas card.

“Happy Holidays.” And, by the way… here is our SON! In case you didn’t know…

The months went on and we prepared or “nested” as people say. The crib arrived and was assembled. Gifts were placed in the room, clothes hung in the closet, toys found their spot in the house. We had an idea of when he would be home, but there was a glitch with our fingerprints that delayed his arrival by about 2 months.

Min man’s birthday is in March. Originally we thought he would be home by his first birthday. That was a little difficult. Then Mother’s Day came and went. One Saturday afternoon I received photos of Min man on his first birthday. They were absolutely amazing. This was the first time we saw his brilliant smile. I wish you could all see it. His smile lights up his entire face. His smile would light up your face instantaneously.

We went to NYC to pick up our son on June 3, 2008. We made it back to Rochester (home) by June 4. When we got off the plane, we were greeted by a huge crowd of friends and relatives. This was our moment to relish. We were new parents and our son was home. There was not a dry eye in the house.

As my SIL said, “What a magical way to become a parent.”

Today we received the long awaited Certificate of Citizenship from Immigration and Naturalization. Even though Min man became a citizenship on his adoption day, we needed this final document to make everything official according to our government. This was a fact we were surprised by when applying for his social security card shortly after his adoption day.

It is hard to believe there is nothing left to do. No more forms to fill out or money to pay in order to declare he is ours and a U. S. citizen.

Even though the road has been long, (including all the years of infertility treatments) kissing my son good night never gets old. Hearing his voice and silly comments make me get out of bed in the morning. That smile can change the world.

Our beginning started a very long time ago. But every day is a new beginning. Every day with a child is a new opportunity to be a better person and parent.

Thank goodness I have my son to keep things in perspective. The delight he has in a butterfly or big truck driving down the road remind me that life really can be simple.

I hope I can always view life through his eyes. Even when he is a grown man, he will always be my baby.

Welcome to Parenthood for Me. This blog is a branch of the non-profit I founded in 2008. PFM assists people who are trying to build their families through adoption or medical intervention.
We just awarded our first grants. Yay!

4 couples throughout the U.S. received $3,000 each to help with both adoption and assisted reproductive technology.

To learn more about the non-profit visit our website http://www.parenthoodforme.org/

To learn more about my story visit the right side bar to read PFM Best Posts.

Be a fan on Facebook– Parenthood for Me.org

FYI-
Several people have asked me if they can make a donation on someones behalf. For example, in lieu of flowers when someone passes away, for a graduation or birthday.

Yes. You can email mail a personal check or go to our website and donate via Paypal.

Do not forget to tell us the name and address of the person and contact information so that we can write a letter acknowledging the contribution.

This is a post where I talk about life with a three year old. There are some things I just have to share. As I write this I am stifling a laugh. This is how things are for me these days. Laughter through tears. Three is a tough age. Tougher than 2. Min man is just like most three year olds- stubborn, won’t listen, has tantrums, and on. He is trying to figure out life and so many things are new every day. We get into a battle of wills. He waits for me to give in and I wait for him to listen to me and behave.

My new favorite part is when he says,” I so mad, Mom!”

I keep telling him to use words and explain his emotions instead of hitting, pinching, kicking, and on.

The best part of 3 is that practically everything that comes out of his mouth is hilarious. I am constantly laughing out loud. If there was a space on my floor not covered with cars, I could probably roll on the floor laughing.

Min man has an infectious laugh and smile. It is priceless when he laughs at himself being funny. I don’t help things because I find him so amusing that I cannot keep a straight face. Then he starts laughing really hard and there we sit giggling and laughing at each other laughing.

Min man started pre-school a few weeks ago. The second day I went to pick him up the teacher came right up to me and said,” One of the kids bit your son. It didn’t break the skin. We had the nurse look at it.” I chuckled ’cause I was so relieved he wasn’t the biter. And I was able to guess why the poor child felt the need to bite my son; Min man was fighting over a toy and saying ‘it’s MINE.’

School is great because his world is getting larger. He comes home singing songs like “Ritzy, ritzy spider.” He talks about his friends. When I ask him what their names are, he says, ” I know.” (aka I don’t know)

The other night I told him that he was getting a special treat- his dessert. He sat in his chair and I placed the ramekin of peach crisp in front of him. He kept going on an on about it was his special treat. “It’s mine? Wow” After about five minutes of talking about it, he says,” I all done. I can’t like it. It’s too yuck.”

Here is a picture of a card made the other day. He said it was his own birthday card.

And, think it’s time for new pj’s?