Category: Family

When Mike and I first considered the idea of having kids, I suggested the idea of adopting a child. He was adopted as a baby and has always been so comfortable with the experience… not that he had much say in the matter or known any different.

He grew up in a loving home with a wonderful family. “You grew in my heart, not in my belly,” his mother still says to him, never hiding the circumstances of his birth.

She talks sweetly about the day she first saw him as “love at first sight” and “meant to be”. She makes no apologies about my husband being her favorite. It’s really sweet until I realized that this probably makes me the “lesser half”… (snort)

I’ve heard story after story of holidays, family vacations, a childhood filled with happy, happy memories… all predicated on the idea that he had been “rescued” by adoption, how lucky he is to have such a great family. It made sense to me that he would want the same for another child, but his response was something that I cannot even begin to wrap my head around.

Having his own children was his chance to find this part of him that he’s always missed and always longed to know.

On a certain level, I understand what he means. If you have ever met my parents or my sisters, then you know that I could never fully comprehend it. There is no doubt What. So. Ever. that we belong together. So steeped am I in my family’s history and drama and traits, that it’s difficult to grasp what it is to live without such an irrefutable feeling of “belonging to these people”…

While no one has ever hidden the fact that Mike was adopted, as far they’re concerned, he is theirs and they are his. End of story. Happily ever after.

Or is it?

There’s another story that I am curious to know.

Who is the woman who gave up my husband so many, many years ago? What led her to give up the baby she loved enough to carry to term? What has her life been like ever since?

There are moments when this feels like such a great unknown, fraught with far too many complicated emotions. Mostly, it’s of little consequence to our daily life together. Yet, sometimes, I wonder… and I know my husband does too.

Unfortunately, it’s not my story to tell. I can only be supportive  of whatever he decides.

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This post was inspired by The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in theDecades Before Roe v. Wade by Ann Fessler.

An adopted child herself, Ann Fessler embarked on an assignment to uncover hundreds and thousands of stories of the women who were forced to surrender children between 1945 and the passage of Roe v. Wade in 1973.  It’s an astonishing and painful read.

What is it about a man and a baby that makes people so crazy with adoration?

For a brief period of time after my son was born, I was the one who went to work while my husband stayed home. Every Wednesday morning, Mike would put Scout in his baby carrier and head off to the grocery store. Other days, the two of them would walk around Best Buy or visit me at my office.  Some days, they just walked around our neighborhood.

It was so simple to leave the house with our little son– no battles over clothes, no endless negotiations.  Just an extra bottle, some diapers, and a baby carrier, and my son was more than happy to take a ride.

Wherever their adventures took them, they would always attract quite a fan following.  Mike still talks about the time when he and Scout rounded an aisle and came face to face with an elderly man. My son flashed him the biggest toothless smile, and the man flashed his own toothless grin in return.

When it was my turn to do the shopping, the store employees would recognize my son immediately. They would flock to us and mention that my husband had been there earlier this week. “What a great dad he is! You’re so lucky!” they would say, completely oblivious to the fact that there I was doing the exact… same… thing…

While this has always been a tiny thorn in my side, it was one of the happiest times in my husband’s life. Those days when everything was new and waiting to be discovered, the simplest things would make Scout giggle and Mike was more than happy to explain. It was their time. Pure and simple.

It didn’t take long for Mike to find another job. I quit mine to stay home and we’ve been running on parallel tracks every since. Mike’s career keeps him busy and away from home a lot. He’s had breaks in between jobs. He’s had weekends, vacations, and days off, but he’s never again had the opportunity to just BE with the kids.

It’s been amazing to see our son grow up to be such a fascinating person. At five years old, he dreams up his own adventures now, but my husband still cherishes the baby carrier days when he could turn our little guy to face the world, hold him close, and never want to let him go.

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Britax is one of our wonderful “All About the Bump” Month sponsors and I was pleased to have any opportunity to write about our baby carrier experience.

The Britax Baby Carrier is arrive this Summer!

Britax, the leader in car seats, is introducing a soft-structured baby carrier that offers optimal comfort for both parent and child. The new Britax Baby Carrier features the CarryLong System, which reduces the risk of back and shoulder strain during extended wear by distributing weight across the shoulders, back and hips.

Other great features of the carrier include:

• Multiple Carrying Positions offer parent versatility to face baby inward or outward
• Simple Slip On & Off Design makes use quick and effortless {it’s so easy, you simply put it over your head and it’s on!}
• Harness Straps adjust from front of carrier for proper customized fit
• Excess Belt Storage Bands eliminate loose straps
• 100% Cotton Machine Washable Bib (included) protects carrier from stains
• Adjustable Head Support provides head and neck stability for younger infants
• Leg Loops reduce the size of leg openings for 8-11 pound infants for secure fit

Best of all, it’s perfect for mom AND dad!

I present our 2010 Christmas Card, brought to you by the talented eye of  Jillian Kay Photography and understated elegance of  Tiny Prints.

Am I impressed that our Christmas card looks the pages of a Boden catalog? Completely.

Do I get a kick every single time my mother-in-law calls to report that another dozen or so of our family and friend have called her to gush about my holiday card? MY holiday card?!!!  Absolutely.

“I sent a holiday card too, you know!” she jokingly laments, but I know she can’t stop looking at it either.

School starts Friday.

Why Friday? Who cares! I’m more concerned about having to limit the number of cartwheels and “whew-hews” I do at drop off. I mean, I’m excited and all, but I’m not completely insensitive. The other parents would probably like to have a turn too.

School starts Friday. Is there a more sweeter sound?

It was only a matter of time before LIFE caught up with me.

Yesterday started off like any other day. I woke up refreshed, bright-eyed, and ready to face the day cursing the sun after another long night of “trying to get everything accomplished” (and failing miserably).

Mike had already left for work, so there wasn’t time for a proper breakfast between getting the kids fed, cleaned, and dressed.  I managed to cram a handful of cereal and a few strawberries in my mouth before Lou started screaming to be left down from her highchair. I made myself a cup of tea, but I don’t recall even taking a sip.

A quicky shower and hair in a bun, I was out the door to run errands before it was time to feed the kids again.

Our first stop for the day was the library, which is where I started to feel the first waves of exhaustion but that’s not unusual these days…

Mike’s been back in “crunch mode” since… I didn’t even remember when. That’s six days a week of being gone before the kids get up and home after they’re supposed to be in bed. On the seventh day, he’s exhausted from working nonstop and I’m out of my mind frazzled from not having any help all week.

Day after day of cooking, cleaning, quibbling, screaming, crying, clinging, changing… rinse and repeat with no more than a 10 minute nap/break in between… but only if we’re in the car… and the radio is off… and the sun and moon are in the right coordinates.

Bedtime is a joke since that’s the ONLY time my children see their dad, so of course, they want to be AWAKE and LOUD and SCREAMY… but who can blame them? They miss seeing him too.

No where in that combination is “time for Mommy to sit down to a meal or sleep or be ALONE…” So, in other words, “irritable” barely scratches the surface of how I’ve been feeling. Unfortunately, it’s probably the nicest impression my children will have of me for years to come.

Yet, life goes on. There are extended trips to see family, weddings to attend, first birthday parties to plan, another school year ahead…

Yesterday (like every other day), I planned to just muscle through and get stuff done as best I could.

I took Scout to claim his Summer Reading Club prize from the librarian. Feeling lightheaded, I had to sit down with Lou while he picked out more books for the week.  I faintly recall standing in the checkout line, because just as it was our turn the scariest, most helpless moment of my adult life happened.

My vision narrowed and I completely blacked out. Gripping tighter to Lou with one hand, I held on to the counter with the other until I regained my composure.  Then the panic set in. I didn’t know whether I needed to poop or throw up.  I didn’t know if I was hot or cold. I didn’t know how to ask for help.

Surrounded by strangers, do I just hand my kids over to another random mom while I run to the bathroom? Do I  just start screaming, “Help, Help, Help” or “Call an ambulance”… but then what?

My head was still spinning as I walked out the double doors. My son, for whom every moment is the Spanish Inquisition, trailed behind asking, “Why are we leaving the library, Mommy? Where are we going next? Why do the doors open like that? What does AU-TO-MA-TI-CALLY mean? WHY? WHY? WHY?”

“Please stop talking,” I pleaded, “I think need to throw up. Can you just help me get to the car?”

And with that he took my hand, looked both ways, and led me across the street. Let me repeat. My FOUR YEAR OLD had to help me across the street.

Once in the car, I called Mike and told him to come home right away. I managed to drive home, which I would NOT have attempted had we not been so close via surface streets and midday traffic been so sparse. Scout entertained Lou until Mike arrived and I laid down for the rest of the day.

The next afternoon, I took the kids with me to see my doctor. A father to a four- and a two-year old, he listened all too sympathetically as I detailed everything that I’ve been doing and feeling the last year and a half of my life.

In fact, he was appalled at how much Mike has been working, in light of our total lack of support from family or friends… and the man’s been through med school and residency. GAH!

We talk about how toxic life in Silicon Valley can be, uber-competitive, expensive, and isolating. Yet it’s the person at home, alone, trying to keep the family together that pays the price. My head nearly fell off from nodding in agreement.

He ordered some tests to rule out some of the bigger, scarier stuff, but his main advice…

Get help or move far, far away from Silicon Valley. You cannot and should not do this alone. You need help!

Moving far, far away from Silicon Valley isn’t in the cards for us. At least, not today.

However, as soon as I find the right non-smoking, non-animal-sacrificing person to trust with the well-being of my children,  I will be that rare breed of stay-at-home-mom with a cleaning service and a nanny. Doctor’s orders.

Prepare to hate me, Internet.