It's Gabby Jarman Day

This is a picture taken of Gabby when we went to meet her in Omaha two years ago.  We went one week to meet her, and went back the next week to bring her home.

Today is officially Gabby Jarman Day--the anniversary of the day she became a part of the family two years ago.

I will never forget the feeling I had when we went to pick her up from school that day.  In that one moment, as we walked from the school to the car, we went from a family of 6 to a family of 7.  It's another one of those moments that is such a vivid picture in my mind, I could swear I've seen a picture of it somewhere, but no picture exists.

Can I tell you how much I love this girl?  I can't imagine our lives without her.  What a blessing she is to us!

For sure we're celebrating, although Gabby hasn't decided yet between pizza and Indian food.

And yesterday she told me, "I showered twice today so I wouldn't have to shower again tomorrow."  She was totally serious.  I guess she doesn't want to have to worry about a shower on her big day.

Sunday afternoon I read through the posts I wrote during the time we were preparing to adopt her, meeting her, and picking her up.  (Tears...but happy tears.)  I'll say it again.  I love this girl.  I love who she is.  I love that we get to share her life.  We are blessed.

See Gabby's adoption posts here.  (The order is most recent to oldest post...scroll back and start at the oldest post to get the story.)

In October (back when mono took over and I wasn't blogging much) we made a trip back to Omaha to visit people Gabby loved before she came to our family...that story will follow soon (promise).

Today we celebrate!

Inspired by Nutella

Dear Self:  Should I be worried that the four food groups for my 11 year old daughter are Nutella, Nutella, Nutella, and Nutella?  It's just a phase, right?  Just an itty bitty, meaningless, normal, childhood phase.

Never mind that Nutella has twenty-one grams of sugar per serving.  After all, it's also loaded with protein.  Three whole grams.

And her little vegetarian self struggles to get enough protein.  So sugar soaked protein is ok, right?

And please, dear self, whatever you do, don't start googling nutrient content of her former favorite foods to compare (quinoa bean salad, for example, with over sixteen grams of protein per serving, and absolutely no sugar).

And never mind that she won't eat any of her favorite fruits and veggies...  (sigh)

And dear, dear self, if you do start obsessing about the above nutrient content facts, please remember:  This is not about food.  This is about a little girl having a need right now to explore the limits of her control...

And as with past food phases, she'll get over it, and once again start requesting those healthy favorites...

Meanwhile, self, what's a little hazelnut wrapped in sugar and a little artificial flavoring.  It's nothing, really.  And she does eat it with whole wheat bread...sometimes.

Just remember self, that you're growing a whole person, and her heart sometimes needs to be in charge so it can catch up with her body.

That's all.  Nothing more.

So let it happen, and stop googling nutrition facts.  Her heart is thriving.

Sincerely, Me

Apparently You Can Get Mono Twice

 No wonder I'm so exhausted.

And this sore throat that feels like strep comes and goes and won't go away!

And those days where I'm achy and feverish...

I just thought I must be getting every cold that is going around this fall, but apparently it's one really, really long virus.

But life goes on.  Ibuprofen and Airborne are my friends, because I feel better and function better when they're my friends.

And as long as you don't kiss me or drink out of my water bottle, you should be fine.

And some fun news...

We're excited to be going back to Omaha next week to visit Gabby's sister and former friends, fantastic foster mom, etc...

Meanwhile, enjoy the fall pictures.

Joie was ticked that we had to go see the "stupid fall leaves."

Great picture.  In reality she was running away from the camera.

Then she got into the whole idea of Hunger Games and suddenly the fall leaves weren't stupid anymore.

Then

Something about rugby conditioning...
He packs her around a lot lately, and obviously, she doesn't mind.

They  hiked up from the clearing below where Jeran somehow got them to sit and just take it all in and create a mental picture of their visit to the mountains.  They had a Walden Pond moment.

You would not believe how hard it was to convince Nate to join a family picture.
(Not like you couldn't tell from the look on his face.)

Utah Adoption Council Conference

Adoptive parents and adoptive professionals in Utah:  This next week (April 25th and 26th) the Utah Adoption Council is holding their annual conference.  I'm presenting on the 2nd day--one session for professionals and one session for parents.  My topic (drumroll please) is:  My Child Isn't Responding to Therapy.  Now What?


Other conference topics include cultural competency, adoption law, adoption ethics, navigating the school system, Circle of Security (another of my favorites and something I have used in therapy for years)...and other topics as well.  Certainly it would be a setting to engage and connect with other like-minded adoptive parent, adoptive professional types.

If you're interested and have the time, see here for more information (click on agenda at the top and select the day and which track you are choosing--parent or professional).

Parent/Neuroscientist

I've said before that I think parents are neuroscientists.  I'll try really hard not to be a geek while I'm talking about all of this, but I know for sure if I had another degree in me it would be in the field of neuroscience or occupational therapy (the sensory part, which is hugely connected to neuroscience).  Definitely what I know as a professional fuels the belief that parents are neuroscientists.  For years, I've been a fan of Dan Siegel, Bruce Perry (the link is to his organization), Allan Schore, and many others who have helped to merge the fields of neuroscience and psychology.  This week I was able to attend a conference featuring Bruce Perry's work with healing trauma and attachment problems.  I won't bore all of you with the neuroscience details...I saw Tim's eyes glaze over with mere mention of the title, "The Neurosequential Model of Therapeutics."  (But if you're as fascinated as I am with neuroscience, go to any of the above websites and you could get lost for days.)

Meanwhile, it stands true that parents are neuroscientists.  With the emergence of brain scanning technology, we are living in a time were we can see and document physical changes in the brain under the stresses of abuse, as well as changes related to lack of connection and attachment.  Likewise, we can also see changes that occur under the healing influence of relationships and attachments.

I knew all this when we said yes to bringing Gabby in our family.  Nothing in her story told me she couldn't heal as a human being.

After she had been with us for several weeks, I remember looking at her one night as she was talking to me, having the realization that her first mom loved her.  (I'm mom #6.)  I honestly don't know a lot about Mom #1, and she is no longer living.  Gabby shares a few stories and memories, but nothing that tells me anything significant...

But I feel like I know a little about Gabby's mom #1 because she left an imprint on Gabby's brain that speaks loudly (through the filter of what I know from the above named awesome neuroscience geeks).

The rest is history...a really difficult history which includes more trauma that most children won't even learn of until they're approaching adulthood...

All of which also left an imprint on her brain...

One she is aware of and responds to, but doesn't rule her life.

Meanwhile, I'm just thankful that "mom" is a good representation to her and not a negative one...

So when she gets the hiccups drinking out of mom's magic water bottle gets rid of them...

And when she doesn't want to eat but she's "starving" a peanut butter sandwich prepared by mom is the best food on the planet...

And so when she has nightmares we can pretend I'm there with her in the nightmare helping to keep her safe...along with dad, brothers and sisters.  We're super heros when it comes to fighting nightmares.

And so even when we all get stressed and upset at each other, we can be hugging 5 minutes later and know all is right with the world.

By Bruce Perry standards, the system that allowed her to love and form relationships was formed during the first few years of life.

Way to go Mom #1.  You have my love and gratitude.  Mom #1, the neuroscientist-parent from South India, succeeded in preparing her daughter's brain to survive in this world.  There is no greater gift.

(For a really fascinating video that explains all this see here...one of my long-time favorites.  The video is in sections.  Scroll down to view each section of the entire video.)

Are You My Mother?

When you've had so many mom figures in your life, what's one more?

One trait I admire in Gabby is her ability to find a solution in any given set of circumstances.  In spite of all she's experienced that would prove otherwise, she still believes in people and relationships.  I'm convinced that she has a keen sense about people, which I'm sure contributes to her resiliency.

Several weeks ago, on a Friday morning, I got a text from a neighbor:  "Can I sign Gabby's planner for her?"  (Her school uses planners to communicate with parents, and Gabby's is supposed to go back to school signed every Friday morning.)  I was carpooling high schoolers at the time, and out of desperation, she found a mommy substitute.

I was both amused and impressed.  I think of the number of times my other children have forgotten to have me sign a planner and just gone back to school without said planner signed...  Bummer for them.  No points.  Better luck next time.

But in true Gabby style, giving up was not an option.  If Plan A (get mom to sign planner) and Plan B (return to school with said planner unsigned) weren't options, she'd find a Plan C.

I called the neighbor back and we shared a good laugh that she would think of a neighbor as a planner-signing option.  "She can find a mom anywhere," I remember saying.

But really, is that such a bad thing?

Adoption Awareness: Meet Jill

I've been excited all month to introduce you to Jill.  I've followed her blog for something like a year now, and emailed her back and forth on occasion--enough to know she's the real deal.  Personally, I think Jill is amazing, but part of her amazing-ness is that she'd never say that herself.  I have a huge amount of respect for anyone who is able to be a positive voice in the world, but when that positive voice is connected Herculean amounts of personal sacrifice and strength, I sit up and take notice...  And that is exactly what happened the first time I read Jill's blog.  

When it comes to adoption, I sometimes think I've seen it all.  I've been connected to the adoption world in one form or another for 15 years.  In addition to being an adoptive parent, I've worked in adoptions with adoptive parents, with birth parents, and with adoptees.  I've worked with all kinds of families and individuals in all kinds of circumstances.  I've worked with legal and adoption professionals creating international adoption legislation, and with government bodies protecting the rights of birth parents and adoptees.  But instead of feeling like I've seen it all, adoption teaches me that each story is as personal as the lives that are touched by adoption.

Such is the case with Jill.  Her story is what it is (amazing!) because it is real.  It is my privilege to introduce you to Jill and Roo, (Roo is Jill's blog name for her beautiful baby).  Also, be sure to check out a link at the end of the post to another Adoption Awareness Month post by Jill on a different blog, and a link to Jill's own blog.)

Jill

My name is Jill. I’ve had people ask me, “What’s Jill short for?” And

I usually tell them, “Well, her mother’s not very tall, either.”

Telling people about myself used to be fairly straightforward – my

name, my age, my education and employment status. When I was forced

into a getting-to-know-you situation, often at church or in school, I

had a hard time coming up with interesting things to say about myself.

I had lived a distinctly unexceptional life. Now, I am a birth mother,

by definition exceptional. One percent of unplanned pregnancies result

in an adoption. I know all kinds of statistics like that now. I didn’t

used to.

It seems incredible to me that only four years ago, adoption was

something I only ever thought about in the context of highways and zoo

animals. I knew that my mother had been adopted, but it was a

non-issue. If I happened to be thinking about a disease with a genetic

element, I’d remember that I don’t share any DNA with my mom’s family.

But I can’t say I ever spent a lot of time thinking about that kind of

thing. I’m happy to report that I don’t often have occasion to

consider genetic diseases.

Today, adoption is as much a part of me as my curly hair or my

right-handedness. It’s not the first thing I think about when I wake

up or the last thing I think about before I fall asleep at night. But

not a day passes where I don’t think about Roo and, by extension,

adoption.

Adoption has changed my life. I feel stupid saying something so

obvious, but it’s true. For openers, I used to be a mother, and now

I’m not. Even if I still was, I would be different, because having a

baby changes you and who you are. It’s a good change, but it’s

permanent. Having a baby, and then placing that baby, changes your

life even more. I knew that it would, and that scared me. But I still

chose to place, because adoption wasn’t about me. It was about my

little Roo and what was best for her.

I expected to be changed in the obvious ways – going from motherhood

to childlessness is a heck of a shift. I expected that I would grieve

and hurt. But I didn’t expect all the little things that birth

motherhood would change. There are a lot of little things I never

thought about before. I want to mention just a few of them today.

I’d always had a good answer when people asked me about work or

school. After I placed Roo, I had a year of unemployment I couldn’t

really explain without getting into the whole unplanned pregnancy

thing, which isn’t something you want to do in a job interview, for

instance. In an interview, I could say, “I wasn’t actively seeking

employment,” but that doesn’t fly in a social setting. People want to

know why. Sometimes I used the economy as an excuse, and I’d tell

people I just couldn’t find a job. I thought that they didn’t need to

know that I couldn’t find a job because I wasn’t looking for one.

Any time I go to urgent care (which doesn’t happen too often), I have

to fill out a form, and one of the questions asks if I’ve ever had

surgery. My most recent surgery was a c-section. Nurses see that and

ask about my baby. I can tell them she’s darling and clever and happy,

but it feels deceitful to let them think she’s mine. At the same time,

it doesn't feel right to tell every health-care professional I ever

meet that I placed a child for adoption.

Here’s something stupid I didn’t think about: baby weight. When you’re

pushing a stroller through the grocery store, people smile at you.

Your belly fat isn’t an issue. No baby? You get looks of disgust –

you’re part of the nation’s obesity crisis. I’ve been fat before. It

wasn’t a picnic, but I got used to stares and comments. I didn’t know

how much it would hurt to be judged for my weight when I had a good

reason for being fat. I wanted to tell rude people, “Please don’t be

mean to me. I had a baby, and I placed her for adoption and I miss her

so much.” That fat was, to me, proof that I’d grown and delivered a

baby.

Now that I’m firmly entrenched in my late twenties, one of the

getting-to-know-you questions I get is, “Do you have any kids?” The

first few times I was asked that after placement, it took me a moment

to ready an answer, and people always looked concerned that I didn’t

seem to know whether or not I’m a mother. Last year I heard a birth

mom say she answers with, “None of my own,” and I liked that answer so

I’ve been using it. But even though I have a response ready, the

question needles me a little. I’d imagine it’s more than a little

needling for couples with fertility problems as well.

That’s another thing – infertility. I don’t think I EVER gave it a

thought before I started looking into adoption. If I ever heard of an

infertile couple, I thought, “Oh, that’s too bad,” and moved on. When

I met Roo’s parents, infertility broke my heart. I love them so much,

and they are such amazing parents. I have cried more than a few times

thinking about their path to parenthood. Now when I hear about a

couple with fertility problems, it means something to me. I ache for

them a little. And instead of thinking that they should just adopt, I

think, I hope they’re open to adoption, and that they’re blessed by

it.

I think about other people more than I used to, and I think about Roo

most of all. When I found out I was pregnant, I had to shift my frame

of mind. My decisions didn’t just affect me. I had my baby to think

about as well. I suppose some part of me assumed that after placement,

I could go back to being selfish and making decisions based solely on

me. I’ve found that’s not true. Maybe if I loved Roo a little less I

could be selfish. But I still love her as much as any mother loves her

child, even if she isn’t precisely my child. It’s hard to be selfish.

I’m not saying that I don’t still stay up too late sometimes, or spend

too much time playing Angry Birds, or buy iTunes cards instead

groceries on occasion (there is food in my house, Mom, I promise). I

am plenty selfish when it suits me. But when I have important

decisions to make, I still think, how will this affect Roo? I’m not

her mother, but I did contribute half of her DNA, and she knows who I

am, and I have no reason to believe that’s going to stop when she gets

older. So when it comes to the big things, I think of my little girl.

I want her to be proud of me. I want to be someone she can look up to.

I want her to be grateful for that DNA instead of seeing it as a

burden to overcome.

My DNA isn’t something I ever thought too much about, either. But when

I wrote down my health history for Roo’s parents I thought, my gosh,

I’m a walking time bomb. Suddenly, it seemed like every bad thing in

the world ran in my family, and I wished I’d spent more time thinking

about genetic diseases. My list for Roo’s parents went through several

drafts, and one of them had the title, “Things I need to apologize

for.” If Roo gets a sniffle, or a bruise, or a scratch, I feel guilty

for not having grown her a better body. It’s ridiculous, because she’s

an exceptionally healthy little girl. I once thought that after

placement, any guilt could be left to Roo’s parents. But my guilt

never went away.

Neither did my love. It’s a strange thing, to feel a mother’s love for

a little person who isn’t mine. It’s strange, but also incredible. How

lucky is Roo that there are two women in the world with a mother’s

love for her? She will never, ever want for love. But that’s not a

surprise to me. I might not have expected a lot of what’s happened

since placement, but I’ve never once doubted that my little Roo will

be loved deeply and forever by her mom and dad.

Adoption has changed Roo’s life, too. And I am eternally grateful.

Jill was also featured recently on Chicago Now on their Adoption Awareness Month series in a post titled, "I Drove Home Without Her."  Read it.  Really.  Go...  Go now!  It's an amazing story.  

Also, check out Jill's own blog, The Happiest Sad, here.  (You can also access it anytime from Jill's button on the sidebar of my own blog.)

Adoption Awareness: Meet Joie and Gabby

Today I'm honored to introduce you to two of the most beautiful and amazing girls you'll ever meet...two girls who share the misfortune of knowing loss in their lives at a very young age.  Two girls who bring the reality of the word "orphan" to life, and are among those who get to experience again the healing of a family, and life after loss.


or-phan  [awr-fhun]

(noun)

1.  A child who has lost both parents through death...

2.  A young animal that has been deserted by or has lost its mother

3.  A person or thing that is without protective affiliation...

Meet Joie...

When Joie's family died, I remember the word "orphan" being used in news reports.  (See here and here.)  There was an inner part of me that screamed in protest at the use of the word "orphan" in regards to my own niece.  The other part of me knew it was true--that even in a world surrounded by people who loved her, she was, very much in those days, the lone survivor of the only family she had known her entire life.

A short time later I became familiar with another term which had, to that point in my life, been equally foreign to me--that of guardian.  I remember the sting as I looked at all the papers I was signing as Joie left the hospital, and as she started school that year.  Below the signature line were the words "parent/guardian".  I had always been "parent."  I had hardly ever even noticed the "(slash) guardian" part of the signature line.  Now I was signing as a "(slash) guardian."  And of course back then the words "(slash) guardian" were another painful reminder that Joie's parents weren't there.  ...As thankful as I was to have Joie with us, I hated being a "(slash) guardian."  In one more way those words screamed, "orphaned" to me.

And I still remember the day Joie asked if she could call me "mom."  Tears came so easily back then I'm not sure if I held them back or not when she asked me that question, but I do remember thinking, "But I'm not your mom...You have a mom...Ruth is your mom...I can never take her place..."  But I knew she needed to say those words to someone...the words, "mom" and "dad."  We became those people, but were always aware (more back then than now) that the little girl we loved so much had been loved by another mom and dad, and almost every day we longed with her to hear their voices again...to see their faces...to hear their laughs.

Then there was the day Joie asked about adoption.  She had only lived with us then for 2 or 3 weeks--not long at all.  I was leaving one morning to go teach an adoption class for a local adoption agency when she asked me where I was going.  I said, "to my adoption class."  


I wasn't prepared for the excitement in her voice.  "Oh!  You're going to adopt me!"  (Silence.)

 I wasn't sure what to say (being a therapist doesn't help much in those intense mom moments).  I remember thinking,  "Did she just say, adopt?"  I'm not sure what I said next...something about there being a lot of things we had to do with her family's things, their house, etc. before we could talk about that.  "But don't worry, sweetheart," I said every time she asked me that question in the weeks and months that followed.  "We'll always take care of you."  Back then I was still stuck on the idea of never being able to take her mom's place.  I had just assumed we'd always be guardians.  She had parents.  They were Nick and Ruth.  She was theirs.  Forever.  For always.  Theirs.  Not.  Ours.

Then as the weeks and months turned into a year, then almost another year, and the pain of losing people we loved so much started to turn into new memories.  As discussions of adoption would surface, and we really started to listen, it was apparent Joie wasn't asking us to replace her parents.  She just wanted to belong.  She wanted to say "my mom and dad" instead of "my aunt and uncle" for the rest of her life, and even as young as she was, she was able to articulate that.  We were family, and she didn't deserve to grow up without the love and protection of a family around her.  The day we adopted her, it was finally the peace of island traditions we had embraced when we adopted Megan that brought me peace once again.  In the islands, all a mother's sisters are "mama" to her children, and all a father's brothers are "papa."  The peace of that thought allowed me to move into the role of another mother instead of only mother.  It felt freeing.  We were moving on.  (Read more about Joie's adoption day here.)


...And now (drumroll please) Meet Gabby!

It seems like I've blogged so much about Gabby in the past year it's hard to imagine there's more to the story.  That aside, I haven't said a lot about how she got here--just that she's here.  I've always been a little afraid to say a lot, initially because it was her story to tell (and still is), but also because so many other people are a part of her story, and their part of the story isn't our story to tell either.  So with her permission...

The word "orphan" and "orphanage" are familiar to Gabby.  At almost exactly the same time Joie lost her family, a real-life series of unfortunate events lead to Gabby and her siblings not only being orphaned, but also becoming separated from each other.  As orphans, she and her sister were separated from her older brother accidentally--on a train in India, and never saw him again.  The three of them had fled domestic violence circumstances which had previously resulted in their own mother losing her life, and in which they felt their own lives were threatened.  They were, very much, orphans, "without protective affiliation."  As such, they were alone in the world.  Too young to know where they were, or where they belonged in India (or smart enough not to say) Gabby and her sister were eventually taken to an orphanage.  A few years later, they were brought to the United States by a family wanting to adopt them.  For Gabby, that adoption didn't work out.  

Sadly, in the process of disrupting an adoption that wasn't meant to be, Gabby and her sister were separated.  

Picture taken at their last meeting, prior to Gabby coming home with us

II believe (both as a mom and an adoption professional) this is a separation that should never have happened.  It was an unnecessary loss.  A huge one.  An agency worker behind a desk in a completely separate state made a decision supposedly in the best interest of the girls that cost them their lifelong relationship.  As we have realized the story we were lead to believe isn't really the story of Gabby's separation from her sister, we grieve with her the loss of her family members, one by one.  She still loves her sister dearly.  She writes to her frequently--letters filled with news and with the amazing love that is Gabby.  We hope there is more to come for them, that their years apart won't change that they are sisters.  Real love is incredible that way.  

And so Gabby bravely faces this world without family members she once loved, but with new ones who love her very much.  

No longer orphans, Joie and Gabby teach us daily what it means to live, and to love.  The grief of the loss of lives that once were never really goes away.  The other night as they were falling asleep, they found themselves (yet again) in the middle of one of those conversations children should never have to even think about.  Through tears they spoke to each other of real loss.  I had gone to the store and when I returned, they both came running from their room for a hug.  Then it was my turn to cry.  As long as I live, and as long as they live, the pain of their loss will never go away.  I hurt for these girls I love, not all the time, but sometimes, and when we do, we know we have each other.  I was thankful that night that they had each other, and amazed at the grace that brought them together.

Two girls.

Two orphans.

Two losses.

Two worlds apart.

Together.  Forever.

Sisters.

Friends.

Adoption Awareness: Meet Mary

Actually, this isn't the first time I've introduced Mary on this blog.  (We'll just start referring to her as "the other Mary.")  The other Mary linked to my blog, and I linked back to her blog in a previous post earlier this year.  But today let me tell you a little more about the other Mary...

Mary is an adoptive parent and a foster parent.  As I've stalked her blog followed her posts about her adventures in foster care, I've been impressed at the strength of her heart and her ability to advocate for the needs of the children placed with her and to balance that with the needs of her own family.

Just a few days ago, Mary published a post titled "Beautiful Heartbreak."  In the post she describes the heartbreak of infertility that has lead her family down the path of adoption.

Infertility is one of the silent topics surrounding adoption that isn't often discussed.  We see pictures of adoptive parents lovingly embracing children who come into their lives through adoption, but behind those smiles are years of heartache and grief as couples travel down the path of infertility.  I've said before that adoption is family created from loss, and adoptive parents who have travelled the path of infertility know their own loss in the adoption process.  Thank you, Mary for describing that journey!

(Follow the link above to Mary's post about infertility.  Also take a few minutes and look through her November posts because she's also highlighting adoption this month.  I also recommend reading about her experiences with foster placements.  Also look at the list of resources posted here for links containing more information on dealing with issues surrounding infertility.)

Adoption Awareness: Venting and Resources

I guess now that I'm posting about adoption for National Adoption Awareness Month, I'm aware of how often adoption issues do affect our lives.  Mostly we try to just keep it normal, and absorb the bumps and complications.  At the same time, I always try to keep it pretty real about the challenges of adoption, and the very real complications, struggles and losses that are often associated with adoption.  Today is one of those "get real" posts.  As it turns out, an odd mix of a lack of awareness and policies has lead to some unfriendly outcomes for us and for Gabby.  And it all started with one vaccination...

Last year the school told us that Gabby may need to have one additional booster to complete her immunizations to meet requirements for school attendance.  It isn't pleasant to tell a child who hates shots they might need another needle in their arm, but in brave Gabby style, she said she'd be "as brave as Megan," and get it done anyway.  Well, over the summer we checked, and it turned out our pediatrician didn't think she needed another immunization.

At the beginning of the school year I asked the school about it again...just covering bases.  Earlier this month I got a letter from the school district outlining the supposed deficit in Gabby's immunizations, and requesting for us to either have that completed by November 17th, or to file an exemption for Gabby by that date.  (Sidenote:  I love Gabby's school.  They're awesome.  But let's face it...there is a minefield of issues surrounding international adoption that school policies weren't set up to accommodate.)

I returned to the pediatrician's office two times.  The first time they reassured me she was ok.  The school sent me back.  The second time our pediatrician wasn't in the office, but they checked with more doctors and nurses and concluded the same thing.  Our daughter was healthy.  If there were to be an outbreak of something, she would be as healthy as any other immunized American citizen walking through the doors of her elementary school...but just to be sure they'd check again with our pediatrician when he returned the following day.

I explained the reasoning to the school.  The answer remained that our only two choices were to give her a booster or complete an exemption.  Long story short, filing an exemption means you are saying you choose not to have your child vaccinated, and if there were any type of outbreak, students with exemptions on file would not be allowed to attend school.  Period.  It's the policy.  Meanwhile we heard back from our pediatrician's office.  The conclusion (once again supported by our pediatrician) was that Gabby is as immunized as she could possibly be.  She does not require further immunizations at this point.  A 12 year old booster (she's 10, mind you) would possibly substitute for the immunization the school was requiring, but even the nurse on the phone with me questioned the reasoning behind a school requirement that superseded what was medically necessary and didn't allow for exceptions.

Also that day, Tim had been to the county health department and discovered that in order to do an exemption, he couldn't just say she was exempt from that particular vaccination, but had to check all vaccinations, meaning we basically have a piece of paper on file with the school stating we refuse to immunize our child.  (Again, never mind that a doctor has reviewed her situation multiple times and feels she's as immunized as she can be...and that governments of two countries who allowed her to immigrate for the purpose of adoption feel she has also met their requirements.)

How do not-so-complicated problems turn so complicated?

We had unwillingly been placed in a category of non-compliant parents (you obviously know how I feel about vaccinations from that statement) just to satisfy a policy that wasn't set up to accommodate a rare exception that was an extension of the already traumatic and chaotic existence of one very amazing, very innocent international adoptee.  It just felt like compassion and reason were lost...policies won out over people.

At the end of the day, I asked myself all the questions that could have calmed my mama bear brain:  What are the odds there would be any kind of outbreak?  Does it really matter?  Why I care so much?  Should I just give her the booster early?  (We were told this could possibly lead to other record keeping complications later when it's time for her middle school vaccinations...)  But my mama bear brain is still feeling restless.

I guess I care because she's a child...an innocent being who doesn't have a voice.  She didn't ask to be traumatized, orphaned, traumatized again, go through multiple losses, changes in culture, changes in languages, or changes in lifestyle.  She just wants to live an ordinary existence, which in my mind doesn't mean placing her in an "exempt" category that could potentially mean she wouldn't attend school with peers.  Even though the likelihood of that is probably rare, that should not be something she (or we) need to worry about.

So we'll keep working to find an alternative to being non-compliant, non-immunizing parents to a child who by all reasonable medical standards is healthy and immunized...  (Sigh.)

Meanwhile, this is a good opportunity to share resources I've been meaning to post all month.  Information is power when it comes to adoption awareness and dealing with adoption issues, and I've pooled together a list of my favorite resources.

Enjoy...and if you're ever in a position where compassion and reason could win out over policy, choose compassion.   (Also remember to check back through the month to view more profiles of amazing people whose lives have been touched by adoption.)

Resources:

NACAC   North American Council on Adoptable Children:  Information on adoption, everything from beginning the adoption process to information about funding adoptions, and resources for families following adoption

Foster/Adopt Community  Articles, links, state requirements and links, and training on helping children with difficult histories

National Foster/Adopt listings and information  Links to articles for adoptive parents, adoptees, foster parents, and professionals (and my favorite...the meet the children tab profiling hundreds of children available for adoption)

Child Welfare Information Gateway  National database of information, resources, research, laws, and advocacy information, including support and information on family preservation

Adoptive Families  Link to Adoptive Families communities, magazine, online information and articles, links to agencies, and links to adoption stories and photos

International Adoption  Joint Council on International Children's Services:  Information about international adoption by country, country adoption news and updates, advocacy for international adoption professional guidelines and accreditation

Adoption Learning Partners  Online courses and information for pre- and post-adoptive families and professionals.  Online courses are offered to meet Hague requirements for adoption.  Check with your adoption agency or caseworker to see if courses meet international or foster care training requirements.

Adoption Health Services  Children who are adopted often come with complex medical backgrounds, and it isn't always possible to obtain necessary medical history.  Adoption service providers will look at records, videos, and photos prior to adoption to help you become prepared to offer the best health care solutions possible to an adopted child.

EMK Press  FREE 50 page resource on a wide variety of issues affecting couples and families pre and post adoption.

Choosing Adoption After Infertility  Great article about transitions and the mental shift from the infertility treatment process to the adoption process.

Resolving the Loss of Infertility  How to move toward adoption and gain a healthy perspective about managing the ongoing feelings of  the losses of infertility while looking forward to parenting a child through adoption.

Infertility and Adoption  Links and resources that help guide families through issues of infertility, reproductive health, and adoption.

Adoption Awareness Month: Meet Megan

Let me introduce you to one of my favorite adoptees:

Isn't she beautiful?

13 years, 2 months, and 19 days ago I held Megan in my arms for the first time, and couldn't believe she was ours.  At just a few days shy of three months old, she was the most alert baby I had seen at that age--not at all what I was expecting (and she walked at 8 months... No wonder it didn't ever feel ever like she was a baby).

When we met Megan at the airport, we weren't sure what to expect.  We had already been in love with her weeks before she arrived, but knew she didn't know us from all the other strangers in the airport.  I remember how difficult it was to have so much love for her, and have her look at us with uncertainty and curiosity.  Even though I knew we didn't create the loss that brought her to us, I knew we represented that loss to her.  In a moment of panic, I began to question our decision. 

Then in one of those moments of truth, when we were at the car and I buckled her in her car seat, I looked back and saw three babies where one month earlier there had been only one.  I looked down at Megan who was looking up at me.  I swear her tiny infant self knew exactly the panic I was feeling in my heart, because she literally put her hand on top of mine, and I felt a current of love pass between us that was so real I knew our souls had been connected before and we were finding each other again.  It was a magic and spiritual moment that I've never forgotten.

Megan is still that same kind, loving soul.  It's a part of her nature, and that sense I had of who she was hasn't changed.  It has been our blessing to have her in our family.  I call her the family glue.  Literally, she is the bond between the boys and the girls, and as the first adopted child, she has helped the newer adopted members of our family to feel connected and make the transition to a new family and new life.  We are so blessed to have her in our lives!

Besides being a gifted friend and athlete, Megan also has a beautiful voice.  She's never had voice lessons, but she's always loved to sing, and in the past year has found the courage inside her to perform.  (That doesn't run in the family...trust me!)  Yesterday evening, she stood up in front of a junior high auditorium full of peers and parents at a fall music concert and sang a solo.  Yes, a solo.  She sang one of our favorite family songs, that (we think) tells the story of adoption.  I even blogged about it (here) last year before we went to meet Gabby.  

So here is Megan, sining "Bless The Broken Road," by Rascal Flatts.  We're glad Megan's road brought her to our family!  (And what would a performance be without camera issues...I've never changed batteries so quickly.)

We love you Megan!

Adoption Awareness Month: Meet Nicki

Let me introduce you to an a new acquaintance...Nicki.  I only met Nicki recently through the blogging world, and already have two very important things in common:  teenagers, and adoption.  I love Nicki's perspective on things, and her ability to advocate for those who are helpless.  Her words give a much needed voice to those who don't have one.  Thank you, Nicki!

Hi, I'm Nicki. I'm the mum of three homegrown boys and one gorgeous little girl, Nicole, adopted from the Philippines. I am, in no particular order, 37, Married, Christian and passionate about practical mission work because it distresses me to know that children are eating dirt for lack of food. We are an Aussie family which makes Nicole our little Phaussie!

The desire to adopt had been with me from a very young age but I managed to push it aside for many years, too caught up in having our bio kids and then continuing to push it aside due to adoption being a very difficult and expensive process in Australia. I remember calling my mum one day in tears, as you do, saying that I wanted to adopt but that it was too expensive. I'd like to say she said 'Oh, there there, everything will be ok, come over and I'll bake you something.' What she actually did say changed our life. She said 'If you want something badly enough you'll find a way to make it happen.' Ouch.

So began our three year journey of form after form, social workers visiting our home, medicals, TB testing, psych testing and waiting and waiting, and waiting, and waiting. You see, when our file finally made it to the Philippines all communication stopped. All we knew was that when we were allocated a child we would get a phone call. I'll tell you this, I carried my mobile phone around with me everywhere I went. There were many times that I turned the car around half way to town to retrieve that phone - just.in.case.

Eighteen months and three weeks of phone carrying later I waved my husband off on a  6am plane to Bali where he was going to lead a team of young people to work in the slum areas of dempasar. Tossing my phone onto the fridge when I arrived home I thought to myself 'God won't let us get the call while Paul is away, I may as well just relax for a couple of weeks.'

3.45pm the same day.

Ring Ring
Hello
Is this Nicki?
Yes it is.
Nicki, It's Rebecca calling from DOCS. We have an allocation for you. You have a baby girl!

SOB.

I couldn't speak for crying - so much so that she offered to call back when I could talk! What followed was a mad flurry of running around sharing the news with the boys, then extended family and FINALLY with Paul who was standing in the customs line at Dempasar airport when he found out he was a Daddy again!

Our adoption experience has been a real rollercoaster from the highs of deciding to adopt, to the lows of the wait, to the high of meeting our baby girl, to the lows of not sleeping for a year. But the whole experience has been wonderful. The most unique part of our adoption is that our daughter was named by her birthmum long before we knew her. Why she chose Nicole I will possibly never know. My name is Nicole too. I figure there must be a reason for that which will unfold in the future.

We haven't had too many odd comments but we do get 'the look' as people try to figure out if she's 'ours' or not. Ah - yeah - she is! Probably the funniest is when a well meaning stranger delightfully declared 'She looks like you!' Hmm, not so much - but thanks!

Adoption is wonderful. Yes, it's hard, but so, so worth it!

My blog, Coming Home, shares our adoption journey from when we left the orphanage with Nicole. If you look at the blog archive the story starts in April with the post Peanutbutter Kisses followed by In the Beginning and Running away 1 mm at at time. Just keep going chronologically from there! I hope you enjoy the ride as much as we did.

Hi, it's me again.  I started reading Nicole's story and couldn't stop.  I'm recommending a few more posts because Nicki does such a great job of bringing awareness to the plight of literally millions of children and families who suffer every day.  It makes me wish I had billions of dollars and all the time and emotional energy in the world to help.  A few posts I loved:  What value can be placed? and a more recent post that really tugged at my heart titled Broken Hearted.  


Thank you Nicki for introducing us to the world of international adoption.

Adoption Awareness Month: Meet Susan

Today it is my pleasure to introduce you to Susan.  

Susan in the blue on the left pictured with her mom and sisters

...Now to explain how I know Susan.  There is no combination of relationship terms that describes how we're "related."  Technically, Susan is my sister's mother-in-law, and grandmother to Joie.  In 2007, Joie's family died in a car accident.  My sister and her husband (Susan's son), and their baby girl were suddenly gone, and as extended family members our lives began to fuse with Susan's life, connected by our mutual love of Joie and family members we lost.  Eventually, Susan and the entire Caldwell and Weaver families adopted us. (Thank you all!)  We've even attended their family reunions, and I was there recently to welcome two of her grandchildren into the world.  Susan calls our children her grandchildren, and they call her "Grandma Susan."  


It wasn't until I had known Susan for a while that I learned she was adopted.  I've always felt that her own understanding of the sometimes complicated feelings that go along with adoption have allowed her to "relate" to Joie in a different way.  So without further explanation, let me introduce you to Susan.

Hi, I'm Susan.  I am an adoptee.  My favorite bedtime story when I was a little girl was "tell me how you got me."  I don't ever remember asking my Mom how she got my sisters.  I think I must have assumed she got them the same way.   I use the word 'birth parents' but when I use the term parents, it means the Dad and Mom who adopted me, who loved me, who raised me, who took care of me since I was 6 days old.  My parents had two girls and due to health problems were told not to have any more kids.  They checked into adoption and were told to be grateful they had two kids.  Any babies available for adoption were going to people who had no kids.  But sometime during the summer of 1956 my grandmother and her niece came to see my Mom.  The niece had a daughter who was pregnant and wanted to place the baby for adoption.  Was Mom interested?  Of course she was.  So when I was six days old I joined this wonderful family.  

When I was in second grade a friend would walk to our house and catch a ride to school.  One day as we were in the back seat she said to me "You know, she's not really your mother."  Her mother had evidently said something about me being adopted.  I replied "Yes, she is."  This conversation continued on the way to school.  My Mom didn't hear this.  When I got home she could tell I was upset.  I told her what this girl had said and I started to cry.  My Mom hugged me and told me she wanted to tell me a big secret.  She told me I couldn't tell anyone this especially that girl or she would feel very bad.  I said ok.  She talked to about our LDS temples.  She told me that when I was one year old, she and my Dad had taken me to the temple and had me sealed to them.  She said that I was going to be with them forever and ever, even after death.  I was so thrilled with this idea and never said anything to my friend because her family's religious beliefs were different those of my family.  I knew she didn't know about forever families and I didn't want to hurt her.

When I was a teenager I helped my Grandmother with some geneology work.  She showed me several family group sheets.  She told me how my birth mother was related to her.  Then she told me that my birth mother had three older children that had been adopted out.  She had names and birthdates for two of them.  I have often wondered where they are and what they look like.   When I was a teenager I found out that after my birth, my birth mother married  a man and had two more daughters that she raised.  I never wondered why she gave me away and kept them.  What I had a hard time with was  knowing I have half sisters that I don't know.  Several years ago I found a cousin that gave me pictures of my birth mother and these girls.  I found out their names.  My birth mother has passed away.  I recently found these two women on facebook and sent them a message explaining who I am.  But so far I have received no response.  I hope someday that I will be able to meet them.  

I think if I had any advice to give to adopted parents it would be to be totally open and honest with your children.  I'm glad my mother was wise enough to always tell me the truth.  I have heard of teenagers finding out they were adopted and being upset about this.  But because this was something I've always known, it never bothered me.  She always answered any questions I had.  

As Susan was sending me information for this post, she told me the story of the day she came home to her forever family.  As an adoptive parent who has lived through the disappointing loss of adoptions taht don't work out, I know what her family must have been feeling, and love how Susan captured the excitement of her sisters when they knew they had a baby sister.  Susan wrote:

When I was 3 days old Mom and Brenda (sister) went to get me from the hospital.  Before they arrived someone had taken me in to my birth mother and let her hold me.  When my mom and Brenda arrived, my birth mother's mom came out and said she had changed her mind. But she also told Mom that she  wasn't taking care of me for my birth mother and she knew Mom would end up with me.  Three days later they got a call that I would be in their family.   Brenda now tells how she saw the car at the house on her way walking home from school. She and Marsha ran all the way home because they knew their new baby sister was there.  

Thanks Susan, for sharing!  We look forward to meeting others this month whose lives are touched by adoption.

11.11.11

Jeran left for school this morning wearing a red poppy that one of his teachers had given him, and four of our five children helped set up and/or take down flags that were posted throughout our neighborhood.  Through the day I thought of my brother, and my grandfather, and many others who have stood between us and tyranny, terrorism and threats from enemies of freedom.  I've always known freedom, and I like to think I've always appreciated it, but I know sometimes I take it all for granted.  I'm thankful for days like today that help us remember.

And now for this really cool number on the calendar.  When I started this post it was 10:11 p.m. on 11.11.11.  Cool, right?

Even better is the fact that we're staying up tonight until 11:11 p.m. on 11.11.11.  One hour to go!

All day I kept thinking, "Wouldn't it be awesome if one of those really amazing, once-in-a-lifetime things happened today?"  I found myself wishing someone in our family was being born, or married, or celebrating a birthday (or that I could win a million dollars...girl can dream...).

Then tonight it happened.


Gabby ate chicken.

...Not the battery, fried stuff they sell at fast food places (which to date is really the only chicken she's wanted to eat), but real, off-the-grill chicken.  She actually dipped it in Ranch dressing, but who cares.  She ate it!

The funny part is, I seriously resigned myself to the idea that she was vegetarian, even before we met her.  We'd heard she didn't like meat, and that was just ok.  (She'd somehow survived to that point in her life without it.)  It just didn't seem to matter a lot.

And as the year has progressed, food has been the least of our worries.  It's sometimes a little difficult to find a place to eat out that everyone can eat.  For a while if we went to Subway, we'd end up stopping somewhere else to get food for Gabby.  And family dinner has frequently consisted of her heating up Indian food while we eat whatever we're eating.

Then we noticed she would actually eat things she didn't think she'd like (such as pizza) but it has to be the right kind, and if it's not, she just peels off the toppings and eats the crust and says, "This pizza is delicious!"

But anytime someone does something new there should be a celebration..

So in the spirit of celebration that we like to do a lot around here, we used the leftover dinner to make Chicken and Tomato Balti, which she also ate (she was trying to wait until 11:11 p.m. on 11.11.11 to eat it, but it was too good.)

And we watched a movie and painted fingernails...

And in about 25 minutes it will be bedtime.  'Night all!

(And looking forward to my mom's birthday on 12.12.12.  I feel another celebration coming on!

How Has Adoption Touched Your Life?

National Adoption Month celebrates adoptive families.  Primarily the focus is on promoting adoption through foster care, and celebrating adoption through foster care.  Through the month, I will post more information about adoption through foster care...

But today is about getting to know YOU.

How has adoption touched your life?





Are you an adoptive parent?  Adoptee?  Birth parent?

Long sidenote:  Every time I use the term birth parent on this blog, I get comments from people offended by my use of that term.  This is (among other things) an adoptive family blog, read by people touched by all facets of adoption, including my own children, and other loving parents who have placed children for adoption.  Our family's heart embraces all the people who love or have loved our children.  The term birth parent has been chosen as the common, politically correct term for parents who place children for adoption (inadequate as it may be to describe the immense love and sacrifice of parents who place children for adoption).  Note to would-be disparaging commenters (Is that even a word?)  I don't publish comments that would potentially hurt anyone, especially other members of the adoption triad.  There are other forums for that.

So...getting on with the subject at hand:  You might be thinking, "Mary, I'm not an adoptive parent, adoptee, or birth parent.  Adoption hasn't really touched my life."  Really?  I think adoption touches everyone's life.  You might know someone who is adopted.  Your children might have friends who are adopted.  In a very Jimmy-Stewart-"It's-A-Wonderful-Life" way, how is your life touched by those people?  What if that child who plays with your child hadn't been adopted?  What if that friend you know wasn't adopted?  You might even know someone who has chosen to place a child for adoption.

Now it's your turn.

How has adoption touched your life?


Please share.  I think we learn and grow from other people's stories.

You can share by commenting, or by emailing me at maryjarman@hotmail.com.  Also through the month, we will feature the stories of different members of the adoption triad...  Can't wait to introduce you!

Diwali Festival 2011

November is National Adoption Awareness Month.

Coincidentally, it is also the month of celebrating Diwali, and the Krishna Temple about an hour south of where we live was hosting a Diwali festival so...

Food

Dancing

Wishes for the new year

More wishes

Fireworks

And of course what Diwali and adoption have in common is this beautiful girl...

Gabby hasn't been super interested until recently in anything to do with her native Indian culture.  My guess is it has to do with adjustment, assimilation, fitting in...

Then we saw the Diwali Festival sign at the Indian store a few weeks ago and she wanted to go so we put it in the calendar.  Today was the big day and starting last night there were a list of Gabby related reasons not to go to this festival...

"My throat hurts..."

"I think I'm going to throw up..."

"My tailbone hurts."  (If you're a parent, you know you can't make this stuff up.  She fell playing Just Dance on Wii.)

But in spite of nerves, we went...

Admittedly it was a bit odd hiking up a hill of sagebrush in the freezing cold November air to the very Indian looking temple at the top of the hill, but once inside, we followed the crowd, found the food, found the dancing, made some new year wishes, and enjoyed the fireworks.

And Miss Gabby was fine...no physical complaints all evening.  And now she's really sure she wants to take Indian dancing lessons, and wants to go back soon (good thing there's a Hindu temple closer to our house).  

Then tonight when she was getting ready for bed, Gabby said the most amazing thing.  "You know what, Mom?  When I was watching those girls dance, I thought that Indian girls really are beautiful."  Then she said, "And I'm beautiful just like them."  

Wow.  And that, folks, is what it's all about.  Adoption is both roots and wings, and tonight I realized that one little evening celebrating an Indian festival in the cold November air gave Gabby both...or at least access to both.

I'm so, so happy to be an adoptive parent.