The beginning of the rest of my life

I knew before I ever took the test that it would come back positive. If truth be told, I knew "the morning after" that something was definitely different. I knew that I was pregnant. After the second blue line appeared, I looked at the world through a different perspective. For about a nanosecond, I thought, "Wow, I'm going to have a baby. I'm going to be a mother." Then reality kicked in and I thought "No way can I raise a baby now. I don't have the best job, I don't have my own place, what kind of environment will I provide?"

I was raised by a single mom.  I know it's tough work.  I was 21 years old, barely legal, and really wanted to enjoy being young and free of responsibility.  I was living with my grandma!  My totally ultra-religious, oh man am I ever gonna be judged, grandma! 

So I decided on adoption.

I know there's "the other choice." And I considered it. I have been pro-choice my whole life, fighting for women who needed the right to make decisions that are best for them.  It just so happens that at that point in my life, it wasn't the best choice for me.

What made me so sure that adoption was the right choice for me was that I had been so careless for so long, I considered myself so lucky to be in the position I was in, I couldn't terminate that pregnancy. I was out of school, a college graduate, making decent money, not your regular unwed mother statistic. I owed it to God and that baby to give it life.

I soon told my mother, who was very supportive of my decision to carry the baby and find it a good home.  I did have one chilling conversation with her, where she encouraged me to explore all my options.  At that point, there were no other options and it just pissed me off that she was asking me to consider anything other than adoption.  Sure, my body would not be mine for the next several months.  So, what?  Sure, I wouldn't be able to raise that baby as my own.  And?  I had considered all the options, and really, adoption was the best fit for me.

I started looking for agencies shortly thereafter. The first agency I called was a well-known national adoption agency, who asked me some simple questions. How old was I? I had just turned 21. Was I married? Well, no, and I didn't think many women in my situation were married. She said that she would send some information to me in the mail. I waited anxiously. When I got the package, it contained information about single people wanting to adopt children. Was I not clear that I WAS PREGNANT? Talk about asking the wrong questions!  My search continued.

In this high tech day and age, I found Creative Adoptions on the internet. I called and was given an appointment within the week, in person, at my house! I was not very familiar with the concept of "open adoption." It turned out to fit my needs like a glove.

I wanted more than pictures and letters. I wanted to be an active participant in my child's life. I wanted him to be able to know me, to ask me questions about where he came from, why I decided to place him for adoption. I didn't want his parents to speak for me, when I can speak for myself!

I didn't want to look into every stroller that passed by, into the face of every baby, asking myself "Is that my baby? Does my baby look like that now?" I didn't like the ambiguity that closed adoption presents. I needed to know my son, and needed him to know me.

Open adoption has been around for over 30 years.  There are several "degrees" of openness in an open adoption.  I wanted an adoption where I was able to see this beautiful child I helped create, and to make sure that he knew how very much I loved him.

I became a part of the family at Creative and settled in to a routine of talking with other birthmoms about our decisions and the paths that led us to them.  It was wonderful.

Looking for blogs in all the wrong places

Have you ever noticed that little button at the top of some Blogger users' toolbar "Next Blog"? I click on it occasionally and find that Blogger will knowingly guide me to other blogs who have something in common with the blog I just previously visited.



I click the link after visiting my own blog and get the same 7-10 yoga based blogs that Blogger has in its queue ad nauseum. On a slow day, I may venture clicking some 75-100 different times just to see if I get anything new.


Sometimes, though, the link disappoints. I've been thinking about blogging about my role as a birthmom, and my adoption experience, and how it feels to know that my husband and I are probably not going to have kids. I was over at BlogHer perusing (so many of my mentors blog over there) and found a whole section about being child-free. Exciting and new!


I was reading a blog called No Kidding in NZ and when I clicked on the "Next Blog" link, I actually expected Blogger to show me a blog that had something to do with other people who struggle with infertility or are otherwise child-free.


Not what happened.


I got a link to a happy looking family, husband wife and three kids. At Disneyland.


I clicked again. Got another blog about the ramblings of a family written by the mom about her husband and their five children.


After reading so much about needing and wanting validation regarding child-free-ness, Bloggers blatant display of child-full-ness was almost like a slap in the face.


So, I guess I should write. If I needed any more push in that direction, it's the absence of people like me. There are others like me, aren't there?

George + Reba = Awesomeness

Last night Handsome and I had a terrific date night.  We got to the Pepsi Center around 6:00 and found our seats and the nearest concession stand.  We ordered juicy burgers, fries and Blue Moons.

After mowing our dinner, sipping our brewskis, the arena went dark at exactly 7:00.

Enter the opening act:  Lee Ann Womack

She's totally adorable and super high energy.  I don't know every song she sang, but I do know a couple.

Of course, "I Hope You Dance" which is such a terrific song with a great message:  Don't be a wallflower in life, get out there, dance!

But more recent is the song "Last Call" which I LOVE.  It's so sad, though, thinking about how some guys always call some girls when they're at the bar, and how they think that's okay.

Anyway.  She rocked.  Sang for 30-45 minutes.  Then she was done.  Bathroom time.  (Nightmare)

Then, the second act came on.  Who?  Ah, yes, the one and only:  REBA.

Reba is absolutely unbelievable.  She's smokin hot, has a voice that goes on and on and on, and she's been doin her thing for decades!  Singer, actress, author...  She is amazing.  Almost 2 million people "Like" Reba on Facebook!

She sang new songs, old songs, and a duet with Lee Ann Womack (Does He Love You? of course)

My favorites:  If I was a Boy, Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia, Strange, Turn on the Radio, I'm a Survivor, Because of You and of course, the encore - Fancy.

She comes out in this awesome old time taxicab with this amazing red dress.  Wow.  I told Handsome that if the concert ended right then, I would've felt like I got my money's worth!  That lady is A-MAZ-ING!

And then?

Well.

You know.  There was a man by the name of King George.

I have seen George once before.  Handsome and I saw him right there in that Pepsi Center, before we got married.  A little fella by the name of Dierks Bentley opened for him that night.  Hubba.

On this Friday night, George sang all these songs that I knew.  It was so cool.  I heard All My Ex's live in Texas, Amarillo by Morning (one of my FAVORITES), Blue Clear Sky, Check Yes or No, Give it Away (Handsome LOVES this one), Honk if you honky tonk, How 'Bout Them Cowgirls, I Can Still Make Cheyenne (Another FAVORITE), Ocean Front Property, The Breath You Take, Fireman, Troubadour, Wrapped, and about a dozen more! 

He still looks and sounds as good as ever.  Mmmm mmmm.  Thanks y'all, you made my entire spring in one night.  Mwah!

Choosing to be happy

Sometimes it's just easier to be grumpy. It takes no effort to NOT smile. If you don't feel like talking to anyone, you just don't.

Sometimes it's just hard to pull myself out of a funk. But it gets old for me.

And I get "funky" for no reasons I can really tell.

Around the new year, I started an exercise program which Handsome bought me for Christmas. It is the EA Active Sports 2 for the Wii. There are 2 programs, a 9 week program and a 3 week program. I jumped right in and chose the 9 week workout plan.

Each workout seemed to get progressively more difficult and longer in time. But I was feeling awesome. Finally, the end of the 9 weeks was here and I was working out for an hour before work 3 times per week and another hour on the weekends.

After the program, I decided to continue but try the 3 week program to assuage any commitment issues. The workouts are much easier, much shorter (20 minutes) and I don't feel like I'm attaining anything.

In other words, I feel like I'm letting myself down.

So, I've decided that after the 3 week program ends, it's another 9 week program for me. It just makes me feel better about the effort I'm making and I feel like I can see results.

Getting out of bed at 5:00 a.m. is the hardest part. But if it makes me happy, why wouldn't I?

Thankful for my good health

Even though I'm not to the point where I crave and love and am blissfully happy when I exercise, I am VERY thankful that I have the ability to get up and move around at my will and leisure.

I have been working out with regularity since January, 2010, and believe that it does wonders for both body and soul. I challenge myself with new classes and test out different machines to see just what my body is capable of.

Generally speaking, I am a very healthy person. My "temple" still has quite a few miles left in it and I'm thankful that I can utilize this body without pain on a regular basis.

Thanks to Mom

Today I am thankful that I have a pretty great relationship with my mom. She was a single mom for most of my life and had to make a lot of sacrifices for me. We struggled, as so many other families do, during my adolescence, but I think she's forgiven me for pushing and stretching and testing all the boundaries.

We always came as a package deal, and it wasn't until the end of my college career and shortly thereafter that I was really able to stand on my own. My mom always has an ear for listening to me and is usually willing to head out for the next small adventure if I call and ask.

She has taught me more about unconditional love than any other human I know, because boy have I given her opportunities to rethink her stance! To this day, I know that I make her proud, and that I have a champion in my corner whenever I need her.

Love you mom!

Thanks to my husband

It's amazing when you realize that someone loves you so much, not because, like your "family" they are expected to, but because they choose to give you that love. Because they think you deserve it!

My husband is such a generous man, and he really adores me. I am thankful that he has such room in his heart for me and all my wacky ways, for our kitties who test his limits multiple times a day, for his family (who are much like the kitties in their testing of his limits), and that he selflessly gives of himself to just about everyone he knows.

I am thankful that he has such humor in his being and he sings to me, to the kitties, to his friends, just because it makes him feel good.

I am thankful that he is so handy and can fix anything, and he has the wherewithall to know what needs fixing!

Finally, I'm thankful that he chose me and this life we lead, and I look forward to all of our tomorrows.

Love you honey!