Recipes That Made My Mouth Water:

• Spanish Rice with Carne Asada by Katie at Fire Wife Katie. I think my family would enjoy this particular recipe and it seems like a great weeknight meal.
• Chicken Cordon Bleu at Nokademic. Again, I think my family would like this and it seems like another good “get dinner on the table now” weeknight meal.
• Chicken Paprikash by Elise at Simply Recipes. I kinda have a love of paprika, so this looks like something I’d love to try. I actually think my family makes something similar…
• Meyer Lemon Ricotta Pancakes by Joanne at Eats Well With Others. We’re making these this week. YUM!

Fire/EMS Blog Posts That I Particularly Enjoyed or Think You Should Read:

• Getting the Wives Together by Val at Fire Fighter Wife. I’m jealous, plain and simple, that fire wives get together at all. Ours don’t. And while I could, technically, spear-head that endeavor, I don’t really have time at this point in my life. So I like posts about other fire spouses getting together.
• Craig Birkholz: Army Sgt., Police Officer, Husband, Hero by Trina at Too Hot to Handle. Our thoughts are with the Birkholz family during their time of grief and mourning.

Photo Blog Posts that Inspired Me:

• Food Play by Rachel at A Southern Fairytale. I couldn’t decide whether to put this in the food or the photo category, so I flipped a coin and she landed her. It made me smile.
• What Windows Are For at Mortal Muses. Just beautiful.
• Among the Hummingbirds by Barbara at Among the Saguaros. I adore hummingbird photos (well, bird photos in general), so I just sat and smiled at these. I can’t wait until ours are back now that I have my 300mm lens!

Adoption Related Posts:

[New category.]

• The Boxcar Children Are Back at The Book Case. I chose to place this here than in a book post because of what the prequel to the Boxcar Children series will deal with:

  Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny are kind to one another and embody the true sense of family. They are resourceful and positive. I find them both true children and true heroes at the same time. It occurs to me that perhaps their parents were the same. I’m looking forward to exploring that idea and more.

  Yes, the prequel tells us how the children ended up as orphans. I’ll be reading it.

• Book Review: Adopted: The Ultimate Teen Guide by Mandy at Four Against Two. She has important things to say about some of the faults of this book. (Note: It’s for the Adoption Reading Challenge!)
• It Takes a Triad & Thank You Transracialeyes.com by Diane at An-Ya. I don’t just share this post with you because she quoted me (though that’s cool!), but because it’s an important post for the triad.

  They say it takes a village to raise a child…and for an adoptive parent…

  It takes a triad.

  I’d just add that it really takes a triad for all members of said triad to find their place and their peace. The added link to her daughter’s post at transracialeyes.com is just a continuation of why it does take a triad. Please read both.

My Absolute Favorites of the Week:

• The Writing on the Back Door by Liz at This Full House. I don’t have teens or tweens yet, but this post hit me in some way.
• In the Family by Krys at Either Eat This Soup or Jump Out of This Window. Krys delves into what testing positive for BRCA does to her thoughts as she discusses the movie In the Family. I think this is an intensely important post on a topic that I don’t think we pay enough attention to.
• Super Hero Cuff Craft by Allison at No Time for Flash Cards. We know I’m not big on crafts, but we go through enough toilet paper in this house that we might as well make use of the rolls, no? Plus, with spring weather being weird, wonky and often rainy, a fun craft for my super heroes seems to be in order.
• The lighting of a fire* by Ivory at The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness. I’m kind of way jealous that she’s going the homeschooling route and we’re not, but this post is a beautiful tribute to the life I wish we could live. Kudos, friend.

Other than these two photos and a handful of Instagram snaps, I didn’t really take photos this week. I have yet to work on my Picture Inspiration assignment for the week. Here’s hoping I have a little more time to myself this week!

Everyone talks about how the Spring season brings us a chance at starting anew, about how Spring offers us a clean slate. We are to bloom once again after being dormant for however long. While I recognize the beauty of Spring, Fall offers us that same chance. Flowers that contain such beauty, such color and are still hardy, able to withstand harsh winds and the literal change of time, bloom during these early Fall days. Deep rich colors, colors that stick with you long after they’ve faded.

I love the Fall. I love the sights and smells and changes the season brings. I love sweatshirts and jeans. I love jackets and boots. I love pumpkins and the color orange. (But not spices.) I love it all, I really do. I also love how it reminds me that beauty comes even after people stop expecting it. The newness of Spring has already come and gone. The long Summer days with their multitude of flowers have come to an end. And yet, beauty remains. Beauty always remains.

This year, Fall has brought about some extra changes in my life, in our collective life as a unique family unit. When I first learned of the changes, I felt uneasy. Change is not always an easy feeling, an easy thing to accept. I can now say, like the hardy mum, I am ready for wherever this new path on our journey takes us. I am happy to be experiencing it along with those that I love and trust. I am happy to be in the midst of this beautiful life, this beautiful mess. (You can read more about the changes, the beauty, here. Mums photographed above are just a sampling of the beauty from the wedding.)

Welcome, Fall. Shine your beauty upon us all.

The theme for this year’s Baby Week is: Behind every baby is an unbelievable story. Well, yes. We have that going on here. Read on.

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My first baby, a girl, was placed for adoption at birth. At birth is always a deceptive phrase to be attached to the process of newborn domestic adoption as she wasn’t taken home by her parents until the mandatory 72 hours had passed. Her parents were, however, present as she made her way into the world. My Mother and I were sure to call them when we arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night and assured that, yes, my water had broken at 38 weeks, 2 days and I hadn’t simply wet myself. Always good to know.

Getting to that delivery room, however, was the longest journey of my life. At 18 weeks gestation, I was admitted to the hospital where I underwent a battery of tests. It was confirmed that I had a kidney disorder which was complicating the pregnancy. At that time, I had one surgery, followed by another in the 30th week. I was placed on bed rest in that 18th week, and, unable to work and save money for the child I had been planning on parenting, I panicked. I turned to the first adoption agency I found (who turned out to be unethical, sadly) and moved forward with what I thought was my only available option. Not counseled on anything regarding available assistance or how to make it work, I believed that this was the right option. Hindsight changes things somewhat but, in the end, I have to believe that this is what was meant to be for the lot of us.

Back to the delivery room, I was greeted with a nurse who didn’t care for birth mothers, a staff who couldn’t be forced to read my file and, as such, gave me a lecture about the absence of my daughter’s biological father and a brand new resident doctor who didn’t know how to either do an episiotomy or properly stitch it. The entire process was somewhat of a blurry nightmare. I did get to spend some time with my daughter while in the hospital, though not as much as I would have if the staff had remained appropriately unbiased.

Things I learned from this delivery process:

1. You can never know too much about the delivery process but you can know too little.
2. If it can go wrong, it will go wrong.
3. Everyone has an opinion and, man, they’re willing to share it with you.
4. Hospitals are not adequately prepared for open adoption scenarios. At all.

Safely delivered into the world, I had to remake the decision that I had settled upon while she was still in my womb. I made the best decision I could have made with the information I had at the time and decided to place her into the loving arms of the people she now knows as mom and dad. We are blessed to have a fully open adoption. The last of the four things I learned during this experience has lead me to push for ethical adoption reform in our country which does include preparing hospitals for such events. You can read more about our story at The Chronicles of Munchkin Land.

I took the things that I learned during that first delivery with me into the future. After I got married, my Husband (fondly known here as FireDad) and I decided to try to conceive very early in our marriage. Due to the kidney disorder discovered while pregnant with my daughter, we did not know exactly how long my health would hold out. After four months of trying, we were happy to find out that our first child was on the way. Another tumultuous pregnancy found me in the hospital multiple times. I experienced everything from a subchorionic hemorrhage to the complications brought about by my kidney disorder once again. Eventually, one of my kidneys decided to shut down at 38 weeks, 4 days. I gained nine pounds in less than a week, had a urine dip test positive for protein and had a blood pressure that had my doctor sending me straight to the hospital to be induced. I was hypertensive and signs pointed to pre-ecclampsia. Great! With my history, my doctor didn’t waste a second. Induction. Immediately.

I will say, point blank, that the induction process was a million times worse than the nastiness brought about by the previous hospital’s staff. It wasn’t the fault of my nurses or the doctor; they were all equally supportive and wonderful. However, pitocin is likely made by the Devil himself. The contractions I experienced while in labor with my daughter and all through the pregnancy with this son paled in comparison to the pain that ripped through my body when they started the Evil Drip coursing through my body. I broke at one point, unable to focus or concentrate and demanded an epidural. This, of course, slowed things down even more and probably worked against me in the end. While pushing, my large-headed, wide-shouldered oldest son got kind of wedged. Things became kind of scary as he suddenly registered a temperature, as did I. A sudden dip in the baby’s heartbeat caught everyone’s attention. My doctor looked at me, aware of my birth plan, and explained that the baby needed to come out, now, and asked my permission to cut an episiotomy. With my previous (horrible) experience in mind, I said yes, knowing that he meant business at this point. A few seconds later, my firstborn son arrived.

What I learned from this delivery experience:

1. Avoid induction if at all medically possible.
2. Having a nursing staff and a doctor that are not only physically but emotionally supportive makes a world of difference.
3. Knowing the ins and outs of what to expect and how to do it also makes a world of difference.

Our oldest son, fondly known as BigBrother around these parts, was born a healthy eight pounds, eight ounces after a fourteen hour labor. That’s right: two hours longer than my first labor. This, of course, is to blame solely on the induction. It was a slow, grueling process. I would never choose to be induced ever again.

We knew after some testing that if we wanted to have another child, it needed to be soon after BigBrother. Shortly after he turned one, we started trying to conceive. On the first attempt, we found ourselves expecting another baby. Once again, the complications of this pregnancy would put me on bed rest which is an exceptionally hard task with a 22 month old.

This delivery process was scarier than even my first (in which I knew nothing) or my second (during which my own health and safety was in question at various points in time). Due to placement, LittleBrother’s heart rate kept dipping in an unsatisfactory manner. While I had an amazing support system in the nurses on duty, the discussion of a mandatory, emergency c-section needed to be had: I would have done anything to save my child, even if that meant something that I had no interest in at all (being a c-section). After the initial conversation was had, my nurse promised not to bring it up again unless it was absolutely necessary. I will never be able to thank her enough for respecting me enough to educate me on what was going on but allowing me to focus on what I needed to do instead of what was going to happen if I couldn’t “perform” properly.

It was a long, grueling labor process fraught with worry. I kept my focus as best I could but occasionally found myself in panic mode. Without the support of my Husband or the nurse, I don’t know how I would have made it through. When eventually it came time to deliver, I only had to push twice. Once again, I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby at seven pounds, seven ounces. Once again, despite a long labor, he had a perfectly shaped head (though somewhat smaller than his older brother’s!).

What I learned from this delivery process:

1. It is possible to discuss the realities of a complication without forcing something on a mother.
2. It is possible to be a high risk pregnancy three times in a row and end up without a c-section.
3. There are scary moments in the process of laboring and delivering. The people around you make all the difference.

LittleBrother was checked out pretty thoroughly after his dramatic in-womb antics but was deemed perfectly healthy. We had some initial nursing issues which we later found out to be due to a severe tongue tie (fixed by Nationwide Children’s Hospital). Despite the scary moments, it was easily the nicest labor and delivery simply because of the nursing staff. I was treated with respect, all past and present things considered, and my input was valued. I was handled delicately when necessary and pushed when needed. It was the perfect ending to my story of labor and delivery.

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All 3 of my Living Children in Jan 2009

All three of my experiences were very different though they had similar, high-risk scenarios intertwined. If you add in the early miscarriage we had in between our two sons, we’ve been through a lot when it comes to safely delivering children into this world. When talking with another mother who experienced multiple complications during her pregnancies and the labor and delivery of two living children, one stillborn, we agreed that for so many people, it’s just a beautiful, easy time. But there are those of us who fought, tooth and nail, to carry those children as long as we possibly could. And, when it comes down to it, easy or difficult, there is a beauty in the result. I wouldn’t make the argument that I love my children more because of what I went through to bring them into this world like some people try to insinuate, but I would say that I am eternally grateful that they made it here safely. I am fully aware of the miracle of life.

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If you’d like to catch some of Discovery Health’s Baby Week coverage, tune in Sunday through Friday, June 14-19th, at 8pm each night on Discovery Health. Some great specific shows in the line up include:

• Twins By Surprise - Sunday, June 14, 8pm
• Little Parents, Big Pregnancy – Monday, June 15, 8pm
• Births Beyond Belief -Tuesday, June 16, 8pm
• Obese & Pregnant - Wednesday, June 17, 8pm

If you miss the first run through of everything (though, in the age of DVR, you shouldn’t!), everything will be rerun later each night and again, back-to-back, on June 20th. (I love marathon days!) There are some other great episodes like I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant and the series three premiere of Deliver Me.

I encourage you to think back to your pregnancy, labor and delivery stories over the next week and consider sharing them with your readers. You never know who you might be able to help by simply listing the things that you learned with each process. Even if everything went splendidly, that may be what another mother needs to read.

Best of luck to my friends who are expecting in the next nine months (and to come).

But there are things I’m proud of in my mothering experience. Surely I can come up with three.

1. I love all of my children equally. Once upon an archived webpage, I had a dramatic e-run-in with another birth mother who said that we, as birth parents, shouldn’t love our relinquished children as much as our parented children. This made my eyes pop out of my head. Without calling her stupid, I told her that her argument didn’t hold much water, at least or especially with me. She was arguing the point from the vantage point of a birth mother who is not actively parenting another child. As one who was at the time and continues to do so, now with more kids under my roof, I can tell you that I do not hold one child over another, no matter where they live, eat or create havoc. And yes, I do take pride in this fact. I love that Munchkin so very much. I am super proud of all of her accomplishments. I would lay down my life to protect her. And I will never be fully able to explain how vast my love is for her. And the same goes for the boys. I marvel at their daily accomplishments and boast about their milestones. I’d throw myself in harm’s way simply to protect them from danger. And I don’t think they’ll understand how much I truly love them. Perhaps I’m unique in this fact but I really don’t think so… but I’m still proud of that unconditional and equal love.

2. I don’t hate being a work-slash-stay at home mom and I don’t feel guilty about leaving the “workforce.” When I was pregnant with BigBrother, I went on and on about how I was going to remain a working mother. I looked down my nose at mothers who chose to stay home. I thought that they lacked ambition and that they were setting a poor example for their children. (Wait! Stop throwing tomatoes! I get my come uppance in a second! Keep reading!) Then BigBrother was born and my world was turned upside down. I went back to work and hated every moment of it. Okay, not every moment. I loved the thrill of the live newscast. And that one time that I wore BigBrother in a front carrier while switching a live newscast? Yes, that was a good moment. (See photo.) But the other moments sucked. When he neared eight months old and was crawling, babbling and hitting a million milestones per day, I ate crow, turned in my two weeks notice and came on home with my tail between my legs. And oh, being home, whether I’m just mothering for an entire day or throwing in one of my many freelancing jobs into the mix, is a million times harder than I ever thought it would be. So, while I’m not so proud of the judgment that I previously tossed at mothers who stay home, I am proud of the fact that I am thriving in my role as a stay-slash-work at home mom and enjoying almost every minute of it. (Really? Did I mention that BigBrother peed on my lap last week? Not my favorite moment.)

3. I am not too scared OR too proud to try new things. I am constantly learning about this parenting thing. I am the first to admit that I am mostly flying by the seat of my pants. But I am proud of the fact that I don’t really ever let “good enough” become my motto. Right now, for example, I’m reading books on positive discipline so that I might be a better guide for my (strong-willed) two year old and, eventually, his little brother. And if those things don’t work for LittleBrother like they are with BigBrother, well, I’ll read some more books. The biggest examples of this, of course, are in the few changes we made on initial things done with BigBrother to how we did the variations of those things with LittleBrother. For those who don’t know, BigBrother was not breastfed. (No throwing stones. There were reasons and they were worked out in therapy. Thank you.) LittleBrother will hit the six month milestone of exclusive breastfeeding on the 24th of this month! Furthermore, BigBrother wasn’t cloth diapered until night-time at around 18 months of age. I thought it would be too much work. Pfft. I got schooled on that one, didn’t I? And as such, LittleBrother started out in cloth from the get-go. I learn from everything I do as a parent, whether it’s something I perceive as a mistake, something that I could simply have done better or something I did pretty darn awesome that I’d like to repeat in the future. Even better, I constantly learn from my Mom-friends. I am (usually?) not offended when someone offers up advice. I ask a lot of questions (really, I do). And I constantly push myself to be the best mom I can be… which involves going back to the drawing board at times and starting over. And that’s okay.

I’m proud of a lot more. Really. I am. I’m not bragging. But darn it, I’m a great Mom in so many different ways. Sometimes I fail. Sometimes I have bad days. (Weeks. Months?) But my children are all thriving in age appropriate ways. And I love watching them all experience new things in their lives.

And, there you have it. What are YOU proud of?

Motherhood is such an emotionally charged subject for me. As my foray into motherhood was interrupted by the relinquishment of my firstborn, I am prone to feeling overly guilty any time I need a moment to myself in the craziness of parenting two awesome boys. I often push myself harder and harder, way past my personal breaking point(s), because I feel that I should never take a moment I have with any of my children for granted. I am aware, on some level, that this is not the healthiest way to approach motherhood, that I should cut myself some slack and allow room for error. But it is a cycle I cannot seem to break.

Every time I raise my voice at my two year old for, you know, throwing toys or poking his younger brother in the forehead, I know that my neighbors will hear and that they will call Child Protective Services and that when they arrive they will automatically know that I am a birth mother, for it is a Scarlet Letter I wear upon my forehead, and they will take my children from me. No. Seriously. I live with this fear on a daily basis. And no, I don’t do anything to endanger my children to make that a legitimate possibility. In fact, possibly due to the relinquishment of my daughter, I am more prone to be that over-protective Helicopter Mom you see at the playground that follows her child from toy to toy, repeating over and over, “Be careful! Go slow!” I know that my fear is not based in logic, it is based in fear. But no one ever said that parenting was full of logic.

The reality of my motherhood is that I spend far too much time being afraid. What if BigBrother is walking down the steps on his own, as he needs to learn to do that, and he trips and falls and I can’t catch him? And at the hospital they think that I pushed him? And they take him away? Or what if LittleBrother rolls over onto his tummy while sleeping and suffocates and they think that I did it? Or what if this? And what if that? I play the what-if game every single day of my life. It is not a fun way to live.

And yes, I do work on these thing with my (awesome) therapist. There are days when I wake up and tell myself, “You will get through this day and you will be okay just like every other mother on the planet. There is no need to worry.” And then? I worry. My anxiety kicks in and the panic rides in on its Big Black Horse of Doom and I just try to make it through the day without hiding under the covers and pretending we’re building a “fort.”

The good thing in all of this is that I am not alone. Other first mothers have spoken up about their similar fears as they parent their children. They have survived and, in that, I know that there is hope for me. I know, on that core level, that I am an amazing parent. I know that my children are thriving under my care. I know that they love me with all of their beings just as I love them with every inch of my soul. I know that I am providing them with a safe, happy environment despite my fears. And I do, honestly, feel the success in that. Sometimes I even pat myself on the back and buy myself something nice. But it is a constant battle brought about by self-doubt and fear.

So, no. The truth is that my version of motherhood isn’t a bucket of rainbows. It’s hard at times. But all it takes is a big, snotty kiss from BigBrother, a smile from LittleBrother… or a phone call from the Munchkin… and, if only for a moment, those fears melt away and my world is at peace. Rainbows even pop out for a second or two, giving me reason to continue on this journey of motherhood.

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This post was conceived out of a happy little Blog Blast about motherhood and the Discovery Health show Deliver Me over at the Parent Bloggers Network. I didn’t mean to get all heavy on you guys! But I’d be doing a disservice to myself and others if I didn’t actually share my truths. That’s the point of the blast, is it not? And? PS? This is the most “real” and “deep” I’ve delved on this blog since we moved domains. I’m tempted to close comments but, instead, pardon me while I go play “fort” with BigBrother.

And yes, that’s an old picture. Last March. We’ll be visiting in just over two weeks… which means tons of new pictures. That said, old or new, it still represents how we’re living King’s dream in our own way… despite the dirty looks or rude comments. These actual brothers and sister get to play and hold hands because of the work done by previous generations. There’s still a bunch of work to be done.

Maybe my Grandchildren will reap the benefits of some of our work. No?