Catch Up Post: Normal Life For The Past 2 Months

     Bronwyn getting ready for school.

     Also, our bannister all decked out with lights for the holidays.

      I wish I had this kids hair.

     The color is fun, the texture is good.

     I have way too much fun doing it for him.

     He has a new appreciation for smells.

     He is sniffing all the time, telling everyone they smell "good".

     He's always sniffing his hair products after I put them in,

     telling me they smell good. Same with my perfume.

     He cracks me up.

     Girls are going to love him and his appreciation for scents. :)

                         

                                    

   Bronwyn and her poses.
I swear, she wants to be a model.

                                      

    Mirren, mid dance. She LOVES to dance and sing.

    Music is in her blood.

                                                                 

    Our outdoor lights.

   The paint was chipping and needed to be freshened up.

    Majorly!

                                                                 

    Yes, I am absolutely in love with our lights spray painted copper.

    Go ahead and tell me you think they don't match.

    Our neighbor boy did already and guess what!

    You and he would both be wrong.

    This color is gorgeous.

  
Last of all, Mirren got a really fun gift for her birthday.

It was the most fun gift she didn't know she even wanted!

Our big 4 year old girl. Sure love her and her big smiles.

Finally, 14 years and one week ago, Pt 2

On to the end, no really the beginning of Isaac's story but the end of my time as
his mother and how I became his birth mother instead.

So I had said my goodbyes to Isaac, handed him to his adoptive dad, and I just felt ready to leave. I couldn't think too hard about what I was about to do, and so I was holding onto this peaceful, calm feeling inside of me. This moment was what I had been preparing for and praying about for months.
It was time for me to walk out the door with my parents and leave my baby with his new parents.

I remember glimpsing him one last time in his dad's arms as I walked out the doors of the LDS Family Services office. It seemed odd to see his dad in there talking and smiling as if what I was doing was perfectly normal, leaving my baby with strangers who would become his parents.

I sat quietly in the car and buckled myself in. It was quiet on the ride home. I don't remember the radio being on or anyone talking at all. I know I didn't have much to say. I was just thinking and holding onto that feeling of comfort.

It was a quick 10 minute drive home. I walked into the house and took myself downstairs to my room where I had been living for months. I didn't even make it 12 feet before the strongest yearning came over me, a yearning for my baby. And I started to cry as my heart finally took in what I had just done. I HAD JUST LEFT MY BABY WITH STRANGERS AND HE NEEDED ME. I was his mother! I knew instinctively what he needed, I knew his smell, his sounds, his cries. I knew the feel of his grasp on my finger. I decided then and there that there was no way, in spite of all my promises to myself that I wouldn't go back on my word, that I could do this to my baby. It felt so unnatural and hurt so deeply. I went upstairs to my mom and I informed her, through my torrent of tears, that we had to go back and we had to get my baby. That I was sorry but I wanted Isaac. This hurt too much.

And my mother told me "Alysa, you are just tired. You need to get some sleep. You have hardly slept in days."  I knew what  my mom was saying, that she wouldn't help me go back and that I couldn't change what had already happened. It was for the best and I knew it.  She told me to lay on the couch and she would get me a blanket so I could take a nap. And that's what I did. I stupidly laid on the couch because what else could I do.

I think my mother must have been the one to grab the little bear Isaac's adoptive parents gave to me. When she handed me the blanket, the bear was in my hands. It was just the size of Isaac but without his added weight and without his special to me smell. I lay there holding it to my chest, crying silently as my tired body betrayed me by relaxing until I could no longer think of him, except in my dreams. This was the moment when my heart really and truly broke. I think of this moment very similarly as to when the Savior allowed himself to be killed. He allowed others to hurt him because he knew it was what he needed to do. I do not compare myself to Jesus, but the sacrifice in allowing myself to be hurt to help others is very real. I do not know how I had the strength to continue on from this point because it was such a low and humble place. I was truly broken. My heart, my spirit, my hope.

I slept for a few hours, exhausted. I woke up to early evening and my parents quietly preparing and eating dinner. I went in and rather dejectedly ate. I had little appetite and didn't want to eat. I just wanted to be in my sorrow. I think my parents sensed my mood and quickly printed out all the pictures we had taken in the hospital. And there my baby was, alive again to me. Those moments all too real again, in color. His little eyes, his nose, his fingers, his feet. I could smell him again almost. Those pictures saved me. My sister had taken a video of Isaac while we were in the hospital and I watched it again and again that night. He was real. He had been mine. But he wasn't mine anymore. I didn't do a lot of talking that night, I just looked and looked at pictures and video that confirmed over and over that he had been mine, that he was real.

And later that night, I took my pictures to bed with me. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed, the first thing I could see when my eyes opened. I talked to those pictures, the same that I had when he'd been inside of me. It was soothing to my soul, to still feel that he cared and wanted the best for me. I knew that he knew he was going to have a new life away from me. I prayed constantly that he was okay, that he was being comforted.

And when I woke up to a new morning, my new life started. Because I would never be the same person that I had been before.

I found out a few days after placement that they had named my son Nicolas and kept the name Isaac as his middle name in honor of me since that was the name Carlos and I had decided on. I do feel that was special and something I'm grateful for.

14 years and one week ago now.....

Before I continue this story, here's some of my thoughts on my documenting these memories from 14 years ago. These memories hurt. Yes, I write them down so that YOU and anyone else who wants to can read and hear from my perspective about placing my newborn child for adoption. What you don't see is the anguish, the tears and sobbing, the sadness and loneliness. This remembering is physically painful, emotionally painful. I can smell the smells, feel his skin, the weight of his body in my arms and the emotions like it was just yesterday. So I write the words for you to read, but I mostly write this for myself, for my kids, for my husband, and someday for my son to read.

The next part of my story actually hurts more than any other part, which is why I have been loathe to write it. It's the part where I move on as if my life were unaffected by the fact that I just grew a human, loved him with every breath of my body and then with all that still happening, placing him into the arms of people who I trust after only knowing them for, really, a few hours and walking away so that they can take him home to integrate into their family and pretending like their lives haven't just changed in some hugely dynamic unexpected way. And same for me. I have had to live my life for the last 14 years like those 3 days of my life of giving birth, seeing my baby become a reality and then in that next instant giving him to a couple to call Mom and Dad. I have had to "act" like my life didn't just change forever. Because it did and it will forever be changed. It will forever be both happier and more sad in the same breath.

14 years Ago Yesterday, What I Remember But Don't Like To PT 1

New Years Day 2004.  It had snowed a lot the night before and was still snowing, if I remember right. So the roads were a mess but from inside my hospital room, the world was white and beautiful.  I woke up with dread. It was the day I had been leading up to, the day I had said I would take this baby who I loved with all my heart to an office where a couple I had picked to parent him would take him from me, or rather I would place him in their arms and they would take him with my permission home to be a part of their family.
   Here's some facts: I had met this couple face to face once.  Looking back, we had never REALLY discussed what open adoption looked like for them or for me. Visits, letters, phone calls had never been discussed in too great detail. I didn't even know where they lived or where my child would call home. I didn't know their last name.
    Back to my story. Carlos had promised me he would come back before we had planned to leave the hospital to say his goodbye, so with that thought I slowly got my baby and myself ready for the actual placement. I don't remember dressing him, maybe my mom did that. I do remember dressing myself and showering. I remember stressing and worrying about Carlos coming because he just didn't seem to be coming. My counselor called finally, wondering when we would be coming to his office to do the placement. I told him my predicament and after talking to him, I decided to call Carlos to see what was going on. Over that phone call, Carlos told me he didn't want to come and say goodbye because it would be too painful.  If only I too could have taken that out, so someone else could do what I still had to do. I don't really blame him. He didn't know how to deal with personal pain well. I knew I wanted to spend every last second with my Isaac until he was no longer mine to care for anymore and so I would see this through for my son.
        Knowing that I was truly on my own in this decision of placing my child with another family, it was with a heavy heart that we left the hospital, my parents, my baby and I and got into the car. I was slightly nervous as I thought about and wondered what placement would actually be like. No one had really prepared me except for the fact that I would be there and his adoptive parents would be there and my counselor would be there. We went to the LDS Family Services Office where my counselor was waiting for us. He asked me a few questions that meant nothing to me at the time. I asked him if he wanted to hold my baby and he kinda freaked out. Still not sure why, but it's definitely something I remember.
        I have pictures from that room. I don't remember feeling as happy as I looked. I teared up a few times while we waited for his adoptive parents to come but I was trying to hold my emotions back. And suddenly they were there. Their mere presence made me feel that there was something wrong in my holding my son and yet he was still mine. I needed to see that he would be taken care of, so I handed him to his adoptive mom despite her protests. I watched her face closely, her hands as they moved over his body. To ensure that my boy would be tenderly cared for, that she would love him with almost as much love as I had. His adoptive mom can be very reserved in her facial expressions and so it was hard to glean much. But the gentleness of her hands told me that my boy would be cared for, and that she would cherish him. Their older son was there and was quite a handful at 2 years old. He was excited for this baby that was suddenly his little brother. I don't remember a whole lot about our time together but it went too quickly.
     My counselor told me it was time for me to go and have some alone time with my baby and say goodbye. I remember feeling it was all too surreal, as I went and sat in this quiet office alone on a couch with my baby. What was there to say that hadn't been said already?  I had been preparing this baby for months from outside my womb that he would have a different family from me. That he needed to be a good boy. That I loved him so so much. That they would be his family and they would take care of him and love him. It felt like these were things I had already said so many times to him. I felt impatient to just let him go and let him be with his family because no amount of time holding him in that room would make up for the lifetime of years I would miss holding him.
   And so I held him close, snuggled his little body close to mine one more time and kissed his soft cheek and stood up. Walked to the door, opened it, walked out to the front office one more time and handed him to his adoptive dad. I was ready to go. I don't remember saying a whole lot more, I was just ready to go.  That sounds so cold and hard. But I couldn't think about what I was about to do because to think of it now makes my head spin. How did I walk away from my newborn baby boy like that?!?  I was being comforted and hugged I know by angels and by my Heavenly Father because I will tell you, that was a once in a lifetime thing. NEVER again have I ever been able to leave my little babies and so I don't. But that day I did, and it still leaves me aching inside.
       

14 years ago Today, What I Remember

14 years ago today, I was in a hospital bed with my newborn in my arms. Tired because I had given birth later in the evening the night before and then called his dad, my ex-husband, at work to tell him I had had our baby. And then I had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning when he got off of work and came to see our little guy.

  I knew that once he saw his sweet little face, he wouldn't be able to face the idea of placing our son for adoption. And I was right. He begged me to please re-consider this plan I had made. That we could be a family and we could keep our baby. But I knew the truth and it was that he was scared. He was scared to hurt as much as this would hurt and he knew that the decision I had made was the best decision for our son. Do you know how much this makes me cry even as I type this?!?!   Because even now, I know it is true and I know how much pain I've gone through in making this decision that has broken my heart over and over and over again over the last 14 years. But our little son, who was so precious and trusting and pure, needed more than we could offer to him.

  When he finally knew that I wouldn't re-consider, he hugged our sweet little son,looked into his eyes and left.  And that was the last time he ever saw him in this life in person. Because my ex husband died last year and they will never have that opportunity again in this life.

   It was 2 am and Carlos, my ex, promised me he would be coming back later before I left the hospital on the 1st of January to "say goodbye". So I went off to sleep with my mother in our room and I slept with my little babe in my arms because I wanted to soak in as much time with him as I possibly could. Every hour in the hospital I cried because it was one hour closer to handing him away and saying goodbye.  So, 14 years ago, I was having each of my siblings come to meet my little Isaac and so many of them did. All but one sibling was able to come to the hospital and  hold him. Sometime during that day, I received a visit from my counselor from LDS Family Services and he brought with him a flower bouquet from the couple I had chosen to parent my baby. He was there briefly and I carried on with my day of holding my son with my limited "forever". And in the evening 14 years ago, my mother made me wear a happy new years hat and balloons and all kinds of party decorations and I just sat in that hospital bed with my baby in my arms and my eyes red from crying because the next day would come placement. And my baby would not be "my" baby anymore. And so I just kept crying on and off all night. Much like I am as I write this.

14 Years Ago Today, What I Remember

14 years ago today, I was hugely pregnant and tired beyond belief. I was 2 days away from my due date with no end in sight. This was both relieving to me and vexing. I was, typically, so done with being pregnant but I knew that each day I wasn't in labor was one more day with my baby boy before he was gone to live with his family.
     The day before, on Christmas Day, my parents and 2 sisters and I had gone to my sister Suzette's for a Christmas morning breakfast. I recall eating too much, feeling too full and then feeling tired. Sounds like a pregnant lady, right?  But my poor brother Jon and his wife, upon not being able to find anyone at my parents home, thought that surely I had gone into labor on Christmas and then spent some time on the phone calling around to the hospitals to find us. That memory has always made me feel a little bad and made me laugh. How spectacular would it have been to have a baby on Christmas, just like my Grandpa Whiting had been born as well.   And also, all these years later, I'm grateful for the few days cushion between  Christmas Day and my son's actual birthday. It helps me to have time to be happy before I find myself lost in my memories and the celebration of a life lived separately from mine.

Tired

Over the past 16 days, I have traveled to Nampa and back, Ogden and back, Bountiful and back and today thanks to awful driving conditions only to Pocatello and back and NOT to Nampa. Secretly I'm glad. That would have been approximately four 3+ hour drives in the past 16 days. Our car is so filthy I don't even like to touch it if I can help it and I keep telling the kids to keep their hands off everything except the door handles. I tried to go to the car wash last night, only to find it closed. And then I gave up on trying to get the dang car clean. After trip number 2, I got 2 new tires put on the van and boy have I been grateful for the extra traction that has provided in all this snowy weather.

  We have 2 weddings this month, and then had a surprise eye surgery pop up which also included a  preemptive appointment to make sure surgery was needed. Fortunately/unfortunately, it was.  And so it happened last Thursday.  And we made it back on Thursday afternoon. And the snow started on Friday night. What a blessing that it held off for one more day so we could make it home safely and focus on Mirren's recovery.

Bronwyn is out of school now until the 2nd of January and Aftyn gets out of school for Christmas break this Friday and then goes back on the 8th of January.

I'd write more but I think the title of this post tells you why that's not happening right now. I'll try to get some pictures posted soon.