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Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Birth at 15 {Guest Post}

4.3.13

March is full of significant days around here. Not only are 3 out of my 4 children’s birthdays in March, but March holds a lot of significant days for our Lydia which means that we spend a lot of time thinking about our family we don’t know, her birth family in China.

 

Becky, the woman guest posting here today, didn’t give birth to a child in China; she gave birth to a son right here. But, her account of what that day was like is one I think adoptive parents and adopted persons should know. Read on.

 

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I was ready to go to the hospital now. I had been having contractions five minutes apart for about 24 hours. I had taken a shower, done my hair, and my make-up. You would think by looking at me I was ready for a night out with friends. Instead I had got myself all done up to give birth. I felt that I needed to look just right. I held mom off. I told her to not take me just yet until my hair and make-up was done and legs shaved. I don’t know what I was preparing for but I wanted to look my best. When we got to the hospital, they hooked me up to two machines, one monitored the contractions and the other monitored the baby’s heartbeat. I took off my best clothes and got into a hospital gown. The doctor came in and checked on me. I was only dilated to two. Plenty of time, he said, to give birth. It would be a while yet. The contractions continued every 5 minutes. Just enough to take my breath away but not enough to stop talking through them. You see…I did not want to give birth. If I did then I knew that my baby would soon be parted from me and I did not want that. He had been my constant companion for 9 months. I did not want to be parted from him because that meant he would be parted from me forever.

 

The next morning, the doctor came in and said I was still at a two so they were going to start hard labor by starting a potassium drip to start contractions hard. Boy, did that work. Soon, I was screaming in pain as the contraction monitor showed contractions that would go up into a peak but never really come down. I was having contractions every minute with no space in between. The doctor came in with bad news. I was still only dilated to two. He decided to break my water. He told me this would increase everything and that the baby had to be born within 24 hours. They broke my water, and I felt a huge relief. The contractions stopped. But, then the doctor told me the water looked funny. The baby was under stress and had a stool in the liquid. I watched the heartbeat monitor go down. Something was wrong. The baby was fighting hard to be born, but my body wasn’t letting him. They were worried. I, on the other hand, felt relief because the labor had stopped.

 

The doctor came in again and said they had to do an emergency C-section. They shaved my tummy and hooked me up to more monitors and I was wheeled into an operating room. I could not feel anything from my neck down except for tugging. They were cutting my abdomen open to pull him out. I had a screen placed in front of my face so I could not see what they were doing. I just felt lots of tugging and pulling. Suddenly, I heard a baby cry. A doctor laughed and said, “He just peed all over me.” Honestly, my first thought was… just take him away… I can’t stand to see him, and I can’t do this. Then, I looked over at a side table. He was there wriggling violently and crying. They were washing him off, and I suddenly wanted to hold him, comfort him, and help him stop crying.

 

They placed him in my arms against my chest. He had very little soft blond hair and blue eyes and was crying a lot. I just stared at this creature they had just removed from my body. They took me to a recovery room. The baby was still crying, so I asked for a bottle. The nurse laughed and said, “he isn’t crying because he is hungry; he is just not used to being out in the open.” His screams assured me he was hungry, so I asked again for a bottle. The nurse finally said she would give me one but not to expect he would drink very much. Instead, he downed almost the whole bottle and was silent after that. “I guess he was hungry” was all the nurse said. They took him away to do some measurements and clean him up some more. I was given some pain medication and taken back to my room where upon I discovered the lawyers were waiting.

 

I signed the papers giving him up.

 

I was tired and just thought I was supposed to sign them. After this, I crawled into bed and fell asleep for a while….

 

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Becky and her birth son Carl

Becky and her birth son Carl

Becky Aske is a wife, mother, stepmother and birth mother. She currently serves as Vice-President of the nonprofit organization named Beauty Amidst the Ashes which is committed to educating people about the adoption option. Her birth son Carl is President and founder of the organization. At the age of 15, Rebecca chose to place her newborn son with a family in Iowa rather than parent. Her story of being a birth mother, along with stories from her now grown son and his parents can be found on her Facebook page. She has a BA in Ministry Leadership, an AA in Biblical Studies and a Child Development Associate Degree. She lives in Washington State with her husband, 18-year-old daughter, two step sons, a dog, and cat.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, guest post

Santa is real…at least to me {Guest Post}

11.21.12

There’s a couple hot buttons in the blogosphere (more than a couple, I’m sure). Among them, I think, are homeschooling (I don’t), fundraising (yup, do a lot of that), and Santa. And, well, you all know about my Santa views now.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the response to that one. Lots of pats on the backs and lots of shoulder shrugs and “ugh”s.

At the end of the blogging day, I was pretty pumped from all the discussion and appreciated the opportunity to see things myself in a new way. My friend Gina commented:

We are full-on Santa lovers in our family. To me Santa IS all about generosity and sacrifice. Santa works all year to give to others. Santa wants to see all children with smiles on their faces. As children get older, they begin to understand that Santa is a metaphor for how we all should act. WE all should be like Santa. We all should work to put smiles on others’ faces. We learn that Christmas is more fun in the giving than the receiving.

I had never really thought of Santa being a model of sacrifice. But, you know, there’s really something to that.

And, from Bridget:

In our home, Santa loves Jesus so much that he wants to share that love by bringing happiness and joy to the children of the world. While Santa helps us celebrate with gifts, we are honoring the birth of Jesus.

Pretty neat.

Another friend, Cindy, told me how much she appreciated my post and understood how we got there and that she has arrived at a different way of doing things for her family. So, I invited her to share it with all of you. Check it out.

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With Christmas coming and my kids getting older, I’ve been asked several times when I plan on telling my kids that Santa isn’t real. I always respond to questions like that the same way: I never, ever plan on telling my kids that Santa isn’t real, and I really hope no one else does either. Because to us, he is as real as the day is long.

I know there are children who celebrate without Santa who have just as lovely a Christmas as those of us who do. Jesus’s birthday is cause for plenty of celebration with or without the jolly guy in red having a part in it. And other religions that don’t celebrate Christmas at all get along just fine without even thinking of Mr. Claus. Hey, Santa’s not for everyone.

The thing is, we LOVE Santa here at our house.  No, I’ve never actually seen the guy. I don’t know if he actually lives at the North Pole and has reindeer that fly. No, I don’t think he actually travels across the world dropping gifts to everyone in one single night. But I do think he’s there. Somewhere.

When I was a kid, besides Santa there was also this little nameless elf that would visit us each morning for the full week before Christmas. Starting December 19th, my sister and I would wake up to a little treat next to our pillows. It was never anything huge… just a roll of Lifesavers or maybe a pack of Scratch n’ Sniff stickers. But that little trinket always gave us such a thrill – like an appetizer for the big day. I never saw that mysterious elf either. I just always hoped and had faith that he (or she) would show up, just like the big man on Christmas.

I don’t know. . . I can’t explain it completely. To my kids and me, Santa is the personification of that unexplainable feeling. That magical, mystical feeling that goes beyond Jesus’s birthday celebration.  The one that feels like sparkles and smells like peppermint, wood-burning fireplaces and vanilla cookies. Taking all that magic, stuffing it into a red suit and giving it name like Santa Claus helps make that feeling concrete.

Santa gives me a happy feeling that I always hope my children feel as well. Maybe it’s just the tradition of it all that works for us.  Or maybe I’m just the crazy woman that lives next door. Either way, I love keeping the spirit of Santa Claus alive and well and hope that everyone can respect our choice to do so.

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Cindy Dudas is a work-at-home mom who started blogging as a way to get her feelings out there. She is a freelance writer/blogger currently writing for the Parental Guidance section of NJ.com and her own blog Whatever Works.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: guest post, holidays, Traditions

The third part of the triad {guest post}

11.14.12

triad (trī’ād’) n. A collection of three things having something in common.

adoption triad (əˈdɒpt shuhn trī’ād’) n. The interrelated, interdependent relationship of the people intimately involved in an adoption, namely the birth parents, the adoptive parents, and the adopted person.

I want to introduce you all to Cynthia, a passionate, wise wife and mother who also is a part of that adoption triad as a birthmother.

__________________________________

Can you share a bit about the experience of placing your child for adoption? 

My birthson, Joshua, was born in 2005. He was my third child. I felt ill equipped to give him the best life possible. I knew God had a plan for my son; I just didn’t believe that plan meant parenting. I was in a toxic relationship with his birthfather that I was ready to get out of for good. I was just finally ready to let God lead in my life rather than the other way around.

What level of openness have you had in the past and do you currently have with the adoptive family? 

We enjoy a completely open adoption and have had this arrangement all along. We send pictures, talk on the phone, Skype each other, stay at each other’s homes for minivacations, and our boys communicate as openly as they want.

How have you been able to serve birth mothers?

I started writing Restorative Grief: A Guide To Healing From Adoption for a local agency to use as a post relinquishment tool. Very quickly, it grew into something more. I felt God tugging at my heart when I was seeing birthmom after birthmom still grieving years down the road. There will always be grief on this road, but there were so many women that hadn’t healed in the least, and I just realized that this was not God’s plan for their lives. They were spending so much time tied up in their emotions that they were never stepping out of the mire and into God’s glory. That was why I began writing. There are adoption agencies that use my book to do post-relinquishment counseling with their birthmothers. There are agencies that just hand them to every birthmother when she has placed. The response has been overwhelming and very much a blessing from God!

What message do you wish you could share with adoptive families?

I want adoptive families to understand adoption as God’s heart and not a baby buying business. Sometimes money and desires get in the way and things become convoluted. People want babies so badly illing to do anything, as want money so badly they also will do anything. Birthmothers are at the heart of adoption and we only have adoption as an option because of them. Watch how your agency treats its birthmothers. Ask birthmothers how they are treated after placement has occurred.

I also think all players in the adoption triad must be very honest with themselves about whether or not they are willing to have an open adoption. Many adoptive parents agree to open adoptions and then close them off after relinquishment paperwork is formalized. I have spoken with countless birthparents whose hearts are forever broken because they were fooled.

I believe adoption as a whole is God’s design. But I also believe some adoption reform is necessary because when it becomes about money or deceit, no one wins; least of all the child.

To all adoptive families, pray for your birth families. It is a hard road to walk, even for those who seem like they may have been hardened or unbothered. Pray for them.

How is adoption a part of your family now? How do you talk to the children you are raising about adoption? 

Adoption is an open-ended conversation in our home, and we are very honest in our approach. It has very much become a fact of life and all 3 of my children are close! My husband and I are also close with the adoptive parents. We truly have become family.

Kasey and Noah
and Joshua
Head on over to Production Not Reproduction to meet a bunch of other members of the triad.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, guest post

Real and Natural Mother {guest post}

11.8.12

Birth mother. Original mother. China mom. Adoptive mom. American mom. Natural mother. First mother. Second mother. Forever mom. Real mother. 

One little word can hold a lot of meaning. And, while I’d like to say I don’t get hung up on something as simple as one word, I often do.

While watching a dramatic scene in the movie Somewhere Between when a teen girl who had been adopted from China reunited with her birth family, I realized how emotionally charged a simple word like mother was to me. I shifted in my seat when the woman who had given birth to this young woman and abandoned her stroked her hair and told her to call her Mother as the woman who adopted her and raised her stood nearby.

As I consider my own response to mother nomenclature, I’d be remiss to not consider the more important potential response of my daughter from adoption as well as her siblings. My feelings, my response, my opinion is just one, and not the most significant one at that.

When I read Mila’s words about her experience with these “simple” words, I was able to let go a bit of my own perspective and hear a message I needed to hear. I asked her if I could share that with you. Mothers and waiting mothers of children who have another mother besides you, read on. 

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As one who reunited with my Korean parents in 2009, I most often refer to my Korean parents as, well, my Korean parents. I call my Korean father by either Korean father or Appa, and I call my Korean mother by either Korean mother or Omma. However, I do at times employ the terms biological and/or birthmother/father when the context of adoption is not already understood by the person or people with whom I’m conversing. I, then, eventually switch to saying Korean or American parents once the context is clear. With whom I am talking and the context of the interaction often affects what term I might choose to use. Some may call this wishy-washy; I call it survival and stress management.

I have to admit that biological sounds very cold and aloof to me. Because I am a deeply emotional person and feel a profound emotional connection to my Korean parents and family, I do not prefer the term biological. Furthermore, the term birthmother/father/family can carry other patronizing connotations with it with which some feel very uncomfortable. I honestly have never felt very patronized or emotionally negative toward this term, but I understand why others do. Particularly, I understand why the first/original mother/father would feel patronized by this term.

I rarely use the terms real or natural simply because, for me personally, psychologically and emotionally these terms feel too divisive and diminutive in either direction. I’ve actually heard real and natural used in the context of describing both adoptive and biological parents. In my own personal encounters with different people, I’ve heard people refer to my Korean parents as my real or natural parents as well as to my American parents as my real or natural parents.

If forced into a corner and demanded to make a distinction (which is a whole other pesky and irritating issue that surrounds being an adoptee), I would have to honestly say that, in my case, I consider both sets of parents–both my Korean and my American parents–to be my real and natural parents. I know that there are others who would take issue with this, and that’s understandable. The adoptee experience is so diverse and varied that we must consider and acknowledge the validity of each adoptee’s viewpoint and experience, particularly when those experiences and viewpoints differ. Failure to do so dismisses the inherent complexities and realities of the adoption experience. Of course, these relationships with my two sets of parents are complex and imperfect, laden with unresolved issues and dysfunction. But, nonetheless, I personally consider all four of them as my parents. Certainly and obviously, our relationships are characterized by different dynamics, histories, and roles. Yet, ultimately, I prefer to use none of the above identifiers, but rather simply to refer to them as my parents.

But, of course, it’s not that simple, and I often do feel compelled, or I am in some ways often required, or at least prodded and pried, to clarify and make distinctions to those addressing me. I make efforts to simply say in conversation my American parents and/or my Korean parents because that is what feels most natural and real to me. And, honestly, I wish that was simply enough. But, in adoption, rarely are things simple and rarely is one option enough.

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Mila is a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, as well as a Korean adoptee. She was born in Seoul, South Korea in 1975 and adopted by a White American family 6 months later. She has been in reunion with her Korean family since 2009. You can hear Mila’s voice at collective site Transracial Eyes where she serves as one of 20+ adult adoptee contributors.

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, guest post

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