Happy Birthday, Baby!

Today is Gil's birthday. I love these pictures taken when we were little kids... so much orange and pattern!


I love you, Babe. You are simply the best. I am so grateful to be able to celebrate your life on this day and how special that life is to all who know you. Happy Birthday.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Thanksgiving weekend, our oldest dog, Arrow, fell ill. He wouldn't move much, he stopped eating, we thought it was the end. But he was still alert. We didn't know if it was just hip arthritis setting in (he's almost 13) or what. By the next day, he would at least eat some duck and lamb treats we have. By day 3, he started eating his kibble again and by day 5 had resumed all normal habits. So we thought maybe it was just a bug.

Until today. He woke up this morning the same way he did that Saturday almost 2 full weeks ago. We called the vet and couldn't get in until late afternoon. When it came time to leave, Arrow would just not get up. We literally just lifted the blanket we put him on and carried him to the Subu.rban and had to carry him into the vet's the same way.

We didn't carry him back out.

The vet thought with much certainty he had a tumor either on his heart or in the heart's lining. His heart rate was way too high and his blood pressure was way too low. He had all the other classic symptoms. We could've opted for all the diagnostics under the sun to confirm it and then decide whether or not to do surgery that would maybe only extend his life for another year.

We opted not to do any of it. We could see the pain he was in... and has been in lately. Risking surgery with a heart condition for the possibility of a few more months just wasn't worth it to us. We sat there on the floor with him until his soul went to play (pain-free) with Sassy, Devil and Hiawatha.

Death is not easy, whether it be human or pet. We bawled like babies. Arrow's been my "ornery step-child" since he was 5 and he's the last of Gil's dogs from his life prior to me.

We love you, Bubbers. Now go and let Uncle M scratch your ears.

A Blessed Thanksgiving

I am blessed. I am thankful. I am grateful to a God Who has given me everything I need and so much of what I want.

I am blessed.

I am thankful.

I am grateful to have a husband who loves me more than any other human could love another. He loves me when I feel unlovable and he loves me when I act unlovable.

I am grateful to have three beautiful children who bless my every day with their inquisitiveness and hearts overflowing with love. I am grateful to finally hear the word "Mommy" and have it mean ME!

I am grateful to have parents who have always been there for me and will always be there for me and who have taught me what true, unconditional love is all about.

I am grateful for a brother who makes me laugh, who supports me and is there for me and mine in times of need and even in times we don't need (which are way better times, anyway!).

I am grateful for in-laws who love and accept me as one of their own.

I am grateful for a house that has become a home.

I am grateful for all the food I am able to make today (even though I wasn't planning on making anything).

I am grateful for all the men and women who sign up to sacrifice their lives to protect mine. Without them, I wouldn't have much of what I've listed above. I'm honored to be able to say my husband and my father are among them.

I am blessed.

I am thankful.

I am grateful.

And I never forget to pray for those who don't have a fraction of what I do. I ask you to take a moment to lift them in prayer right now, too.

Happy Thanksgiving.

What makes a child yours?

In continuing to honor National Adoption Month (November), I would like to share the following account of what defines a "real" child. Does giving birth to a child make them more real than having them delivered to your home in the middle of the night? Is that what creates that parent-child bond?

This is the most straight-forward and powerful definition of adoption I have ever heard. I was led to this blog by a very dear friend of mine (who has no personal experience with either infertility or adoption, by the way, but has also been one of the most sympathetic supports I have).

Here's an excerpt of the definition:

Switched at birth stories rarely happen anywhere outside of Salem or in hospitals other than General, but what if they did? What if your child was not connected to you by blood? Would it matter? Would you trade that child for your “own”?

I doubt many would. You may want to meet the other child. But in your heart? that child is a stranger. You don’t know what they like to eat, or how hard they press the issue of bedtime. You can hardly contemplate the thought of switching back.

Adoption is merely a form of delivery if you will. Some of our children joined our family by coming out of my body, others joined by coming out of a car, but I remember when each of them were handed to me for the first time. The first time I looked upon their amazing faces. And some even came with names which cut out that whole month of debate with hubby over which names were stupid and which weren’t.

So, the question remains, what makes a child yours?

I really encourage you to read the entire post. She does a great visual for those who may feel they wouldn't connect with a child they didn't give birth to.

A "Know"ing Rant

** Disclaimer: This rant is not aimed at anyone in particular or due to anyone's specific comment to me. It is a collection of thoughts I've had since our journey began almost five years ago, and another five years prior to that, if you count the PCOS issues. Please, if you think I'm writing out my very raw feelings here in response to something you've said to me, please know that's not true. This blog is a place for me to put my feelings and I love and cherish the support you give me - through constructive criticism or pure empathy, whether you've lived a portion of it yourselves or not - I love it all and I love you. This rant is personal and not due to anything anyone has said. **

Begin rant...

I know there are people out there - wonderful people, far better people than little ol' me - fostering and parenting and jumping through more hoops than I'll ever see to make their family "legal" in the eyes of the government. I know that. But does knowing that and, better yet, empathizing with that, make my journey any less painful for me?

I love the support I receive from the friends and family who give it... I cherish it and thank God for all He's given me in the people in my life. I also thank God and am humbled every day for the children He's entrusted me to care for and raise with the best of my ability to know and love Him and to be good stewards here on this earth. I thank Him for the most wonderful husband a girl could ever ask for. I thank Him for parents who gave me a happy, carefree childhood and who stood together through the test of time to show me what marriage and parenting really is. I even thank Him for my infertility... okay, maybe I've only thanked Him a couple of times for that one; more often than not, I still shake my fist at Him over that one.

I know what a good life He's blessed me with. I know I could always have it worse. When I'm really hating on my PCOS and infertility, I start my little mantra: It could always be worse. I could have cancer. I could have a disease that doesn't allow me to move, or see, or hear, doesn't allow me to experience the gloriousness of this world. I could have been victim to horrible abuses. I could have never "found" a husband, a godly man who loves me more than life. I could have, I could have, I could have...

I know it could be worse. And I knew what we could have been up against in our adoption journey. The very reason we didn't go into fostering with the intent to foster and see if it could lead to adoption is because of all the CPS and government regulated bullcrap that foster parents have to deal with. Children's best interest? BullCRAP! I grew up experiencing first-hand foster, and more specifically, ICWA bureaucracy...on an Indian reservation, for crying out loud. I knew my heart wouldn't be able to handle that. I know I'm weak. I know I play the "why me, Lord" card all too often when I'm feeling sorry for myself.

KNOWing all those things doesn't make our journey any easier for us to deal with. It's OUR journey, and knowing it could be worse like so many others, doesn't make our hearts ache any less. It does make us step back and thank God once again for not having it any more difficult than we do, and for giving us the resources to be able to deal with it all (emotionally and physically). But our hearts still ache.

Still Waiting

I'm going to post a complete update on information we've been withholding from everyone excluding a select few. It's just getting so old now and I'm tired of answering questions so I'm just going to lay it all out on the line.

These past 2 1/2 months have been wrought with many feelings, highs and lows. We celebrated 6 months with the kids on my birthday, which was just about the only happy thing I felt that day. Six months meant we were finished with the initial required waiting period and we could then go on to finalize the adoption. Our workers took a couple of weeks before they got all the paperwork together to send in to the state and, because the kids' worker had an "in" at the state, I guess they were rushed through a bit faster than normal.

In late September, we went to a Permanency Hearing for the kids, which was just a necessary step to complete in the foster/adopt journey, more paperwork if you will. The judge looked happy to see us, though we didn't say a word, and smiled at us numerous times while looking through the photo album we had made of the kids' first 6 months with us.

This was a good step, too, because in late July, we had received notice from the kids' worker there was a bio-aunt who came forward and wanted to take the kids. Their tribe was threatening to petition for jurisdiction over the kids. And then... nothing. No follow-through. No communication. Nothing.

Then, lo and behold, we got our adoption paperwork back from the state October 13th. On October 15th, we bundled the kids up and rushed into town to do some notary work and then I rushed to the courthouse to file our petition for an adoption hearing! Yay! We should be a LEGAL family of five by early November! Woohoo!

After I filed my petition and paperwork and paid our fees, I got home to an email and phone call saying to halt everything. The tribe's ICWA specialist called after a 3-month hiatus stating the bio-aunt still wanted the kids. I broke. After the initial news in July, I broke down but only for the rest of the day. It had been during the same week as Uncle M's death and funeral and emotions were already running at maximum so I felt more tears were warranted. I recovered and dealt with it fine after that, though. But this time... after we'd made it through all those extra hoops, I really broke.

I finally confided in a few friends about our situation because there was obviously something wrong with me and I wasn't holding it together very well. You know what I heard? Not from everyone but from just a few? Yep... those same ol' cliches... "What's meant to be will be." "God won't give us more than we can handle." "You knew there might have been this risk." "All the bumps in the road will be worth it in the end."

"Excuse me?" I wanted to shout!! "Are you at risk of losing all your children?! NO? Then shut up!" But did I do that? No, because I think I tend to be a very nice people-pleasing person so I just nodded and smiled a little, said thanks for keeping us in your prayers. And honestly, we all view life's situations from different perspectives and I've really been trying to keep that in mind. But I'll be honest in saying that 5 years of journeying through infertility and now through this mess has really made the very open book type person I was start to clam up something fierce. The word "fine" has entered my daily vocabulary. Anyway...

We were told the state attorney was going to file for a status hearing and present the latest information to the judge so we could proceed with the adoption without looking like we were hiding information. Okay, that makes sense. Then...

Apparently the tribe's attorney hadn't been privy to any of the information and only knew there was a bio-relative who wanted the kids and they thought that would be in the best interest of the kids. The tribe's ICWA specialist hadn't shared any info with the tribal attorney about the bio-aunt coming forward FOUR different times in the more than 2 years since the kids were removed from their birthparents... and never following through with the necessary steps to actually show she was serious about taking them. The ICWA specialist didn't even remember approving us an ICWA placement due to my tribal heritage and hadn't given any of the communications to the bio-aunt that we sent with that specific purpose. The tribal attorney had been lacking information and they were then presented with all of it with an invitation to appear at the status hearing (which we still hadn't received a date for yet) to state their desire to petition for jurisdiction or, since having received the complete history, not petition at all, which is what we were hoping for.

Ten days after the tribal attorney received all the information and we still hadn't received any notice about anything, I called the kids' worker again and she told me the state attorney had, in fact, NOT filed for a status hearing as she decided to wait and see what the tribal attorney would do. We weren't aware of that; neither was our kids' worker. Now that the tribal attorney has had time to make decisions or movement of any kind and hadn't done anything, the state attorney apparently decided they were just going to move forward with actually requesting a status hearing... I waited all last week for a date. Come today and we find out the state attorney had done NOTHING they said they were going to do and is supposedly going to file for it this week.

Who the heck knows? I've now been given the regional administrator's name and number and I phoned him this afternoon. We'll see if he can light a fire under the attorney's butt. Seriously, how hard can it be to file for a status hearing? (And yes, after saying that, I realize I don't work in the judicial system and I thank God for that... I'd go more insane than I do working in healthcare! I also thank God for all the work this attorney IS doing for us.)

So it's 9 months later and 3 months past where we needed to be to finalize everything and we're not any closer to being legal than we were before we brought them home. There is still a chance it can happen before the end of the year... I'm now hoping in time for Christmas when it should've been before Halloween.

Our legal systems (both federal and tribal) are definitely not set up with the kids' best interests at heart... which we knew beforehand... but now that we're living it, we're even more livid at the injustice of it all. As it's National Adoption Month and everyone's making pleas on the plight of children, please remember all the kids out there waiting still who haven't even been placed, much less adopted. Adoption isn't for everyone, I do know that, but it's something everyone should support in one way or another. Every child deserves a family who will love them unconditionally and give them a safe place to grow up.

UPDATE: I wrote this Monday night (11/15) after the news that the attorney had still not filed for the status hearing. I just got an email that she finally filed. Now we just wait for the date. And then, hopefully soon, we can file our own motion for the adoption hearing! And yes, I know how everyone's plates are full and we're not the only situation our state attorney has to deal with. I'm really trying to remember that. The thing that made us mad is that we were continually told she was going to be moving forward when she did nothing of the kind... until yesterday.

7 Years

Seven years ago, I went out on my very first date with Gil. We went to the Te.xas Roa.dhouse. I had a chicken critter salad and he had steak kabobs... nothing that should have warranted a three-hour dinner! We just couldn't stop talking with each other so we continued the talking for an additional three hours afterward.

That first year of dating brought many happy moments, followed by some very drastic not-so-happy moments. Three days after our first date anniversary, he asked for a second chance. I have to say how very thankful I am that I so totally believe in second chances. It's been nothing but heaven ever since.

Here's a picture taken 3 weeks after we started dating, our first picture taken as a "couple".


Seven years... and no signs of an itch!!