Disclosure?

Image borrowed from http://lynneamiller.com/

Since adopting our daughter, we have had to decide how open to be with the general population about our adoption story ...  that is, how much to disclose when faced with questions by friendly/curious people that we meet through the interactions of daily life (i.e. I'm referring to strangers).  What Apollo and I decided early on, and have continued to stick to, is that the details of Moonbeam's adoption are personal to Moonbeam and our family and that information is to be shared only with people close to us or on a need to know basis (e.g. her pediatrician, health care providers, child care providers, etc.).

This has often proven to be easier said than done.

Very regularly, we are faced with questions such as "Where does she get those eyes?" or "Does she look more like Mom or Dad?" and we've become pros at being vague and dismissive ...  we slough the questions off and innocently admit that we don't know where she gets her eyes (true) or that we don't know if she looks more like Mom or Dad (true).  As Moonbeam gets older, she may choose to share with strangers that she gets her eyes from her birth mom or that she doesn't know if she looks like her birth father ... but until then, I don't feel comfortable making it known to strangers without Moonbeam's consent that we adopted her. 

As I type those words I wonder if this is the right approach ...  If I'm in some way imposing "adoption shame" on Moonbeam and coercing her to be silent about her history.

On the other hand, we are open with our family, friends and others who we are in regular contact (e.g. coworkers).  We often share with Moonbeam and others in our life that she looks like Aurora.  When we visit Aurora, I openly talk about their common features - they are both beauties and share so much in the looks department.  I'm not shy to talk about this to our extended family if it comes up - especially when they tell me she looks like me or Apollo (which is weird in itself to deal with ...  everyone knows that we adopted Moonbeam and I can only assume they understand that this means we don't share genes ...).

Apollo and I were confronted with this discussion the other day when someone asked us where Moonbeam gets her beautiful eyes from.  I'm faced with this question a lot and I brushed it off with "I don't really know ..." and Apollo answered "From her mom."  Both were kind of true ...  we don't really know and it's possible that she inherited this feature from Aurora.  The lady leaned in to examine my eyes and said "Yes, she does have your eyes."  Apollo and I smiled, thanked her and moved the conversation along in a different direction.  Afterwards I told Apollo that I felt a bit like a fraud, but we agreed that the person was not "in the circle" and didn't need to know the intimate details of our family make up.

I understand that in so many ways we are lucky because Moonbeam could pass as our biological child, which eliminates a lot of questions and judgment by the general population.  We were open to adopting a child of a different ethnicity and now I am starting to understand how much different this whole experience would be if we couldn't just hide behind the shield of looking the same. 

This leads me to question if we are pretending that the situation is something other than what it really is ...  And whether we should be more open with strangers about how we came to be a family.  We are not ashamed of our adoption story or our journey to parent and never want Moonbeam to feel ashamed about how she came to be our child.   

Where do/would you draw the line when it comes to disclosure? 

Doll Displeasure

Image borrowed from www.mcfarlanes-figures.com

The presents are unwrapped, the stockings are down, the family obligations are out of the way.  I officially declare Moonbeam's first Christmas (and our first Christmas as a family) to be a huge success.  We tried not to go overboard on gifts for her and I think our choice was wise ...  she seems to be getting the greatest joy out of the multicoloured balls we got her for a whopping $4.  Those, and the red ribbon tied to her toboggan.  And she's already eaten part of the spine on her new board book, so I'm glad that I saved my money and went for a cheap edition of that one too.

There was one thing that I did try and find for Moonbeam that I wasn't able to locate ...  a doll.  She has a couple little hand-me-down dolls that she loves to kiss and hold, as well as one of the "B.ab'y's F.irst" dolls which she likes too.  But I was looking for a doll that wasn't, well, white...  one that didn't have the telltale blond hair, blue eyes and pale complexion that fill her current doll collection.  I wanted something a little more real - a little doll to kiss, hug and hold that looks like something other than a mirror image of herself (Moonbeam is as Caucasian as they come).  I think it's important that she develop racial acceptance starting now and I thought that this would be a perfect thing to complete the set of gifts we got for her.

I went to a mega toy retailer with the certainty that I would find a doll that fit my expectations - I did, after all, only have one specific criterion (i.e. a doll of any ethnicity other than Caucasian).  Amidst the crowds of people, I found my way to the doll section where I was greeted by other women looking to purchase a doll for a little person in their own lives.  Not all the women were Caucasian ...  in fact, most weren't.  There were African women, Asian women, Indian women and First Nation women.  And guess how many dolls that I found that weren't white?  Zero.

Zero dolls representing origins other than good ole' white people.  I was shocked.

How can the little kids in our lives feel ok with who they are and what they look like if they can't even play with toys that look like themselves?  How can we expect our kids to be loving and accepting of children who are different than they are if they don't have the benefit of learning these attitudes and behaviours through play?  I just assumed that there would be dolls of every shape and colour readily available for purchase at the standard toy stores, but sadly I was wrong.  It really makes me angry that little girls and boys are expected to play with little toy babies that only come in one race.  It indicates to me that there is something grossly wrong with how we start shaping the self-images of our kids and that society seems to be ok with it.

Complete

Image borrowed from www.pickywallpapers.com

As I sit and watch my daughter play on the floor this morning, I feel ...  Joy.  Gratitude.  Love.  I feel complete.

Christmas after Christmas I pulled through with a smile on my face, always hiding my tears and sadness for the sake of others ...  hoping that each passing holiday was the last that I remained childless.  I remember last year was especially grueling - it marked our 10th Christmas without a child, despite our efforts.  It marked our first Christmas of no longer TTC - one where we were anticipating the upcoming home study process and holding out hope that a placement was in the cards for us.

And now, one year later, here I sit (coffee in hand!), watching my 9.5 month old little miracle flip through picture books, kiss pictures of her Daddy in a baby-proof photo album I made for her and dancing to the music on the radio.  It doesn't get any better than this!

Is it everything I hoped for?  Does it take away the darkness that I was feeling all those years?  Without a doubt - the answer is a loud and resounding YES.  Moonbeam lights up our home, our hearts, our lives.  Being a mom is more than I ever could have hoped for - I love it.  People say parenting is hard ...  Apollo and I have yet to feel this.  We feel that parenting is joyous and fun.  Infertility is hard.  Navigating adoption relationships is hard.  But being a mom and dad?  It is the best thing that has ever happened to us.  After 10 years of battling infertility, we are happy to say that parenting is the easy part.

This holiday season is a special one for our family - our first Christmas with little Moonbeam.  It is so much fun to see the season through Moonbeam's eyes - she is smitten with the tree, the lights, the hanging decorations and the Christmas pictures and cards sent by family and friends.  She loves the little elf hat we got her and the boxes, paper and ribbons (so cliche but true - she really does love the wrapping and boxes better than the actual gifts!).  She loves the Charlie Brown Christmas cartoon, the Elvis carols playing on the radio and the stockings hanging from our fireplace mantel.  She brings magic to our home this Christmas.  She makes our family feel whole.

With that - time for another coffee and to go kiss my little elf.  Wishing you all the best this holiday season!  Merry Christmas!

Listening to:  Presents for Christmas - Solomon Burke

Reflection

Image borrowed from http://www.cartwrightcorgis.com

Tonight while holding Moonbeam I passed by a window and saw a reflection shining at me.  For a fleeting moment I thought, "That happy woman with that sparkling baby is so lucky.  I hope she realizes it." 

It took a second before I realized that the happy, lucky woman with the sparkling baby was me.  

Listening to:  Moonshadow - Cat Stevens

Thankful

Image borrowed from http://www.bellanaija.com/

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

We in the Great White North enjoyed our Thanksgiving celebrations in October ...  but I am never one to pass up the opportunity to express gratitude, eat good food and spend time with friends and family! 

This year, our family has A LOT to be thankful for.  After 10 years of TTC through infertility, we brought home our forever baby through open adoption.  So in light of this, I'd like to draw up my bucket list of things I am thankful for.

Moonbeam.  She is the apple of my eye, my raison d'etre.  She is such a sweet little girl and is a beautiful ending to what was a very difficult 10 years.  She brings magic to my life and makes all the challenges through infertility make sense.

My family.  Without my family, our open adoption would not have worked for Apollo and I.  Prior to adopting, we consented with all members of our family that would be big players in our child's life.  We wanted to make sure that they didn't have any hang-ups with adoption and that they would love a child that came to our family this way as much as if she had through biology.  Every single person stuck by our side with unimaginable and unwavering support.  Every day since they first made their promises, they have upheld their end of the deal - to love and cherish our daughter without any barriers.  Of course we knew that we would love our child ...  but to see people we love open their hearts to our daughter makes me burst with happiness!

Aurora. For making sacrifices for Moonbeam and giving her opportunities that she wouldn't have otherwise had. For believing in us. For choosing to be a part of Moonbeam's life, even when it's effing hard.

Reflexes.  I'm proud to say that not once have I dropped our baby (I know this sounds weird, but seriously ...  she is the squirmiest, most daring little thing and at times she has nearly LEAPT out of my arms!).  She has never rolled off the couch or the bed.  She has never stuck her finger into an electrical socket or pulled a lamp down by its cord.  I am thankful for the Spidey senses I had no idea I possessed!

Coffee.  On mornings like today (when my usually perfect sleeper has been up all night causing a ruckus but is still raring to go at 6:30 a.m. ...  wtf?!!!), it is an answer to my prayers.  On afternoons when I need an excuse to get out of the house, it provides one.  And man, it just tastes so darn fantastic.  Thank you coffee (and cream and sugar) for always being there for me!

Parental Leave.  Without our country's parental leave subsidy, I would not be given 10 beautiful months at home with my daughter.  (I'm bitter that bio moms get 12 months, but that's another post!).  Although being home full-time is coming to a close in the new year, I will be forever grateful for this precious time that I have had to bond with my baby.

What are you most thankful for today?  Happy Thanksgiving!

Listening to:  Mushaboom - Feist 

4 Week Reflections

This is a post that I wrote on my old blog (Qu.een of the S.lipstream) on April 4th 2013 that I would like to share for Mel's 2013 Creme de la Creme list ... 

Today marks Moonbeam's 4 week birth day. Wow, how time flies. Our precious little girl has achieved all of her 1 month milestones, including turning her head from side to side while on her belly, focusing on our faces, recognizing mama and daddy's voices and visually tracking movement. We couldn't be more over the moon with happiness at our good fortune - we are amazed that this perfect little baby has found her way into our family forever.

This four week milestone also provides a mark of resolution that I have come to since Moonbeam's birth. The past month has been awesome, for sure, but it has also been emotionally difficult. I have wrestled with my emotions over how I feel about my position as Moonbeam's mom, Aurora's position as Moonbeam's first mom/birth mom and what my role is in bridging all of the complex relationships that are unfolding together.

The process hasn't been easy. I have struggled with Aurora's grief over losing her daughter and what role I have played in contributing to this loss. Sometimes I struggled to be truly happy for our family, as I was acutely aware that another family has lost what we have ultimately gained. I didn't expect to feel grief over this, but I did. I know that Aurora doesn't regret her decision and has respect for us and nothing but hope and happiness for Moonbeam's future, but I also know that this decision is met with a heavy heart for Aurora. There is nothing I can do to ease this pain, which has been a hard realization for me to come to. What I have also come to terms with is that I have not been a contributor to Aurora's loss - that Aurora's loss and pain are her own crosses to bear, just as my own issues are mine to bear. None of us come through life unscathed, it turns out. I plan to bear my own crosses with as much grace as I can and not feel guilt for the pain that others must endure.

The second piece of the puzzle that I have struggled with is others' perception of our relationship with Aurora. We have been met with reactions ranging from shock, confusion, worry, happiness and curiosity over what our open adoption means. I have grappled with where I stand amidst others' reactions as I try to defend my position. I don't fully understand everything myself, nor am I truly able to put a descriptor of this relationship into words. What I do know is that when it is Apollo, Aurora, Moonbeam and I hanging out, exchanging pictures or sending texts, the relationship makes sense. The minute I try to explain this relationship to others, I start to feel self-conscious and question myself. But I received a really sound piece of advice yesterday from a friend of mine - she told me that no matter what, people are going to have opinions about everything we are doing as parents ... from what we are feeding our child, to where she sleeps, to childcare decisions we make, all the way to how we are handling this relationship with Aurora. She told me, in so many words, that I need to man up and say to hell with them and their opinions. If it's working for us, that's all that matters. As for the rest of them, fuck 'em.

At this four week anniversary, I can honestly say that I am ok with everything. That I feel secure in my position as Moonbeam's mom. That I will always recognize that Moonbeam is also Aurora's daughter, and that this doesn't compromise my position. I can say with certainty that I am doing my best, not for me, but for Moonbeam. I have promised her a strong sense of identity so she can grow up with a solid foundation of who she is, and I plan to live up to this. Our relationship with Aurora is not about Apollo or I, it's about Moonbeam. No matter what, Moonbeam is always going to be adopted. She will always know this and at some points in her life, she may struggle with this. My job, as her mom, is to help her become the best Moonbeam she can be, and our plan is to help shape her with love, honesty and openness.

We are forever grateful for Aurora - she has entrusted precious little Moonbeam with our family and she has made our dreams come true. She deserves the right to know her daughter... our daughter. We are early in the stages of this relationship, but I feel we have laid a pretty sturdy foundation. People, including friends and family, may not get it right now. They may not get it in a year. But eventually, over time, maybe they will.

Parenting birth children doesn't come with a manual. Neither does parenting a child through adoption. We are excited for the spontaneity that this new role has offered into our lives - parenting Moonbeam has been a pretty wild (and amazing!) ride so far. :)

Listening to:  Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones

What I Wish I'd Known ... in the Beginning

In the beginning, in the first few weeks after Moonbeam was born, I wish I would have known ...

That Moonbeam would look at me with stars in her eyes more and more as each day passed.  That I was her Mama, through and through and there was nothing that could stand between us that would ever change that.

That Moonbeam would look at Aurora with stars in her eyes, understanding that there was an indescribable love and connection between the two of them.  That this love and connection would never jeopardize my position as Moonbeam's mama.

That there was nothing I could ever do to make Aurora's pain go away.  That my texts, pictures, conversations and emails would never make her pain go away.  That opening our home helped, but these visits would never take away her grief. 

That placing her daughter was Aurora's choice.  That I did not cause her or coerce her to make this choice.  That this choice had nothing to do with me ...  that it was a choice Aurora made for Moonbeam and for herself.

That I cannot make Aurora heal or get help.  I cannot make her tell her family about the adoption.  That this part is up to her.

That the tough things we went through together were going to make for easier times ahead.  That they would result in a greater understanding and respect for each other.  That ups and downs are just part of it and that we were always going to hold each other close, no matter how often we saw or heard from each other.

That there are three adults in our open adoption and they all have a responsibility to keep the lines of communication open.  That all visits, contact and pictures do not have to be initiated by me.  That I have a responsibility to keep things open for our daughter and her birth mom, but that I am not the only one who has to uphold this responsibility.  That there needs to be balance between all three adults in our triad to make sure this is going to work for our daughter. 

That I matter.  That when I'm hurt and upset, it's ok.  That this will be hard on me, but I will come out of it stronger, healthier and happier in the end.

And most importantly ...

That being a mom would be much more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.  That I would be forever thankful to Aurora and to Moonbeam for making this journey possible.

Listening to:  One Woman Army - Kate Earl

Perfect Moment Monday - Morning Bottle Time

Today marks two years to the day that DH and I became homeowners, so what a perfect day to remember that it's Perfect Moment Monday!

Our every day life with Moonbeam is honestly nothing short of perfect ...  she is all (more!) than we ever dreamed of when we imagined filling our little home with the pitter patter of little feet (or little hands and knees, which is where we're at right now!).  We are discovering that 8.5 months is a magical time in a baby's life ...  exploration is at an all-time high, giggles come easily and a mama can't help but love the clinging little hands of a sleepy babe.

Moonbeam is eating real food now.  Eating and eating some more.  What I have come to notice is that bottles are becoming a less regular part of our day ...  even our bedtime bottle is often going by the wayside, being physically pushed away by Moonbeam's tiny little hand in favour of her bedtime stories.

There are upsides to this, for sure.  Cleaning Dr. Browns bottles or mixing formula are not the funnest part of my day so having to do this less and less is appealing.  Packing little snacks is easier than packing around bottles when we're out on the town.  Mealtimes are easier when I only have to cook one meal instead of two, now that Moonbeam is eating what we are.

But I've noticed that with fewer bottles, cuddle time is happening less and less.

This past month, when 7 a.m. strikes, I hear little Moonbeam calling for me and I spring out of bed, looking forward to my happiest, most perfect time of day.  Morning bottle time. 

During morning bottle time, Moonbeam is still groggy from sleep and she rests her little head against my chest.  She watches my face closely and coos softly.  She squeezes the fleece on my housecoat, opening and closing her little hand.  The warmth of her little body snuggled next to me melts my heart.  We sit quietly and take each other in, enjoying these precious 10 minutes when all is quiet and right with the world.

And that is my month's most perfect moment ...  what was your perfect moment this month?

Transitioning

Borrowed from www.tinenormann.com

When we gave ourselves the go ahead for open adoption, I knew we were signing up for a lifelong commitment with a child and with a birth family.  I knew that there was a risk that the birth parents may change their minds before or after the birth of the child.  My husband and I agreed that the relationship with the birth family was for the benefit of the child.  We wrote in our dear birth parent letter that we were looking for members of our future child's birth family to become extended members of our own family. 

What we didn't know is how difficult this was all going to be when it actually happened.

I never prepared myself for the guilt that came with taking home a baby from the hospital while another woman, another mother, went home empty handed.  I never prepared myself for the emotional attachment to my child's Birth Mother.  No one told me how hard it was going to be to separate myself from our daughter's Birth Mom and refocus our adoption so that it was centred on the child and not her Birth Mom.

The moment Moonbeam was born, I knew that I was her forever mom.  I never questioned whether Birth Mom would change her mind ...  I just knew that it was all meant to be.  What I didn't know was how hard it was going to be to separate myself from being Birth Mom's main supporter to being Moonbeam's main supporter.

This transition has taken until now - 8 months in to our open adoption - to fully implement.  I don't know if it's because Moonbeam is starting to show the first tell-tale signs of making strange to anyone other than me or if it's just time itself that has started to work its magic.  I don't know if it's because we are finally starting to get some distance from Birth Mom - now 7 weeks rather than 2 weeks between visits and fewer texts / pictures.  I don't know if it's that it takes all moms about 8 months to wrap their minds around becoming mothers (bio moms get 9 months to prepare, whereas my husband and I had a week!).  Regardless, it has taken until now for me to confidently head into our  next visit with Birth Mom and know that although I love and care for her, my main focus is Moonbeam's well being and emotional health, not hers.  This is finally about Moonbeam and not about her Birth Mom.

For the past 8 months, I have felt vulnerable.  I think a lot of this has to do with there being a possibility that my child could be taken away from me until the adoption was finalized ...  therefore I sort of held my breath while social workers and judges put their stamps of approval on the authenticity of my motherhood.  Until that point, I wanted to give Birth Mom an opportunity to change her mind if she really wanted to.  I never wanted to be the one to break up a mama and her babe...  and transitioning from the mindset that placing Moonbeam for adoption was Birth Mom's choice, and not because of me took a long time.  Since the adoption has been finalized, I have had to work through strain on my relationship with Birth Mom that didn't exist before the adoption was settled in court.  I have had to find my footing as a mom and move away from being Birth Mom's main pillar of support ...  and move towards just being Moonbeam's mama.

I never prepared myself for sadness or guilt associated with adopting a child.  I only prepared myself for the eternal bliss that would come as a result of welcoming a child into our lives.  Looking back, if anyone did try to prepare me for this, I certainly never thought that it would happen to ME.  I never guessed that I would struggle with being an adopted mom. 

8 months in to this, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I no longer feel afraid that Moonbeam will shun me as her mom when Birth Mom is around (although I always knew it was unrealistic that the baby I'd cared for since the moment she was born would turn her back on me for biology, the feelings were there!).  I don't feel like I have to impress Birth Mom with how amazing of a mom I am or that I live up to any standard I set on paper through our homestudy or in our dear birth parent letter.  I don't feel I need Birth Mom's approval that she made the right choice,  because I have come to realize that her journey through grief and pain is not a reflection of me at all.  It's not my daughter's Birth Mom that is going to give me the title of Mom, it's Moonbeam who will.

Listening to:  Into the Mystic - Van Morrison

I'm here!

It's been 8 and a half months since the birth of my daughter and I am finally coming up for air.  I am a mom.  A living, breathing, smiling, once and for all real mom.

Our journey has not been without its ups and downs.  I have loved open adoption, I have cursed open adoption, I have questioned open adoption, I have embraced open adoption.  But through all of this, one thing has remained constant - I have LOVED my baby girl with my whole heart and soul - our precious little Moonbeam who came to us suddenly and beautifully through what I can only consider to be the miracle of our open adoption.  She is nothing short of a blessing, a gift from the universe, a lovely little ray of light.

I look forward to using this space to help me navigate through the ebbs and flows of our open adoption...  the good, the bad, the (hopefully not so) ugly and most of all, the lovely.

Welcome!

Listening to:  A Case of You - Joni Mitchell