Ai = Love

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December 3, 2012 By 3 Comments

author: Kim

I recently watched the film Mao’s Last Dancer which tells the true story of a boy who is taken from his parents at 11 years old to train as a ballet dancer in Communist China. After proving worthy of the training invested in him, the talented main character travels to the US and defects, realizing after his rash decision that he will not likely see his parents for quite some time, if ever again. Several years later, he is performing at a premier ballet in the US and his parents have (unbeknownst to him) arrived from China to see him. Cue sappy music: The cameras pan to two primitive looking elderly people sitting in the audience in shock, gawking at their son’s dancing (something they had never witnessed in their poverty-stricken village), crying tears of pride, and wondering out loud why he is not wearing any pants. When they go on stage after the production to greet him for the first time in several years, the son crumples to the ground.

While watching this scene, I was sobbing in that shaky way that happens when your body longs to bawl, but you fight against it like a Republican against Obama. And then I was surprised when my youngest son came into the room to watch the film with me. He was curious what ballet was all about and wondering what could make mommy as crazy as he does. At one point, the hubs had to ask me if I was okay, and this little 5-year-old nestled in my lap assured him: “It’s okay Daddy, they’re happy tears.” I wonder how he knew.

Yes, happy. But. Also curious tears. Curious about what my child’s birth mom and dad would think of him if they could see him now.

I can’t help but wonder at my son’s response in this fantasy of mine–I confess I am partly terrified that he might like to return to his birth parents. Because he does accuse me of being “mean” sometimes often. And no doubt he has fantasies of a better life he could have had anywhere other than here. Especially those times when I demand that he use a nice tone of voice, or when I correct him for not peeing into the toilet instead of around it, or when I ask him to go to sleep. These are times when a fantasy birth mom and dad come in real handy. Fantasies never involve health or hygiene.

You see, about five years ago, the hubs and I went to China to pick up our son Thys. And every year on his birthday, I write a little cyber-note to his ‘rents, even though I know that the likelihood of them ever reading these notes or actually meeting him is the same as my bod suddenly looking like it’s 22 again.

Nevertheless:

To the birth-parents of a baby boy born with a cleft lip in late September 2006, in or around Chongquing, People’s Republic of China:

Your son is healthy, thriving and well.He reads. He plays hockey. He is Canadian now. He is in Grade One. He laughs as loudly as he cries. He is passionate. Fiery. He is a Dog, you know this of course. He loves action figures, especially knights and swords. And lions and pandas. And puzzles and ipods. He’s freakishly good at Temple Run and Uno.

He turns six today. You know this too, I know you do. You are thinking of him today and wishing him well. I know it in my bones. And I know you must sometimes ache in your bone brains while wondering and questioning and missing and loving. You must feel the reminder pangs of delivery…how could a mother forget? When a human comes out of your body, you can never pretend one did not. It is as if you deliver a part of your soul. And it lives on with or without you.

I long to reassure you. To show you: Your curious souls inhabit his little body, birth mom and dad, and is one I sometimes do not recognize. It is not mine or my husband’s. It is yours. It exists. You exist in him. And he reminds me often that we as parents are only a temporary gig. We will expire with the sun. Our job is calculable. Then he returns to the universe. To God knows where. To look for you? To find his soul?

Right now, we do our best around here. The most anyone can do as a parent on duty. He keeps us laughing… and crying… and cleaning… and he keeps us honest. His memory is impeccable. We talk of you often. He even prays for you sometimes.

I’m sorry you do not get the pleasure and pain and expense of raising him. But I’m glad that we do. He is our son too. Nothing but Ai, Ai, Ai.

Kim is a writer, a high school English teacher, a wife, a mother to two boys (one biological, and one “Made In China”) and a new Canadian. She rambles and vents on her blog www.trainsinmythoughts.blogspot.com.

Filed Under: Family Stories, International Adoption

Mom at Last (and an Adoption App)

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November 30, 2012 By 3 Comments

author: Sharon

I personally had a long journey becoming a Mom.  Along the way I have met many wonderful women with the same goal… to someday become a Mom.  I started Mom at Last, a Community of Moms who have persevered over the many obstacles and tragedies put in our path while on the journey towards becoming a Mom, to capture and document our journeys as well as share information concerning the journey through motherhood.

I thought, “Let’s form a community of like-minds and goals — a place where we can share our joys and frustrations — with the goal to become a mom, at last! Let’s create a place where we can share what we are feeling — fears, successes, disappointments and frustrations.”

Whether your journey to motherhood is IVF, International Adoption, Pregnancy, Surrogacy or any other journey; Mom at Last is here to share, and learn from each other as well as possible outside sources for contact and support.

Your story may include a pregnancy loss, adoption headaches, or an IVF story; but take comfort in being part of a group that understands your plight and may have had similar experiences and outcomes.

Mom At Last seeks to

  • Form a Community — a place that we can find people of like minds to form friendships and take comfort in the knowledge that I am not alone.
  • Communicate with one another — share in the same goals with people who have gone through some of the same problems and complications.
  • Give Support — and share your story or stories through writing articles or messages to others.
  • Provide Comfort — to others who are feeling as though they have tried everything and have not been successful.
  • Let others know that there are many who have tried several methods before becoming a Mom.

Throughout my journey, I also persevered over the many obstacles put in my path, including miscarriage, infertility and three failed IVF’s. I finally became a Mom at Last after adopting my two Twin Boys from Russia through International Adoption. The Adoption Process was confusing & difficult, so on top of creating the Mom at Last Community, I crafted an iPhone5 mobile app to help others navigate through the Adoption Process.  The AdoptionApp is an International and Domestic Adoption iPhone5 Mobile App that gives you checklists, tasks & documents to keep you on the right path towards Adoption.

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While every journey to Motherhood is different, some have true similarities. Please take comfort that you are not alone in what you may be experiencing and feeling.  Follow the story of Sharon Simons through her journey towards motherhood by reading the new Mom at Last Memoir when it hits book shelves in 2013.

Sharon Simons is a Mom at Last. When she and her husband could not conceive naturally, they turned to in-vitro fertilization. After 3 unsuccessful attempts, it seemed they would never get the opportunity to be parents. Finally, they decided to adopt and after a couple of trips to Russia, came home with two beautiful boys that Sharon says she “would not trade for the world”. Sharon started Mom at Last to give hope to other women & couples that they are not alone on their journey towards becoming a Mom at Last. Sharon then created TheAdoptionApp, which is an International & Domestic Adoption Process iPhone and iPad App to help others going through the long process of Adoption.
Filed Under: Family Stories, International Adoption

From Instamom to Mom: How Heidi Felt Like a Four Letter Word

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September 11, 2012 By 2 Comments

author: Heidi Marr

I’ve been pondering the definition of Mother – and more specifically, Mom – for years. Many dictionaries I’ve consulted state very clearly that a mother is someone who gave birth to a child and/or has raised the child since birth, loving him or her unconditionally. Such definitions ignore my status: I’m a mother who did not give birth to my children nor has raised either of my kids from infancy or even their toddler years. Furthermore, I had to learn to love both kids, discounting the unconditional love theory in our situation. I can assure you, it did not happen overnight.

When Hope and Cody moved in with us, they were ten and seven—old enough to remember their chaotic pasts yet young enough to need a mommy. However, neither Hope nor Cody seemed to understand the true meaning of the word, Mom. In their experiences, mother figures were transient. Their birth mother was unpredictable and neglectful. Their foster mother was kind but temporary. And then there was me: Adoptive Mom.

I started acting like a mom immediately that first year. I did all the things I thought a good mother should do: I ensured our kids brushed their teeth at least three times a day; I made healthy lunches; I patched up skinned knees and broken hearts. I took my daughter bra-shopping for the first time and passed the bucket the night my son vomited on me twenty-seven times. I was there to cheer him on when he made the travel hockey team only a year after learning to skate. Not only was I a hockey mom, but I was a soccer mom and a gymnastics mom. Yet, I still wasn’t “Mom” to our kids.

One of the best things about adopting older children is that they come into your lives already knowing how to communicate. They can tell you, “I’m scared” or, “I’m sad” or, “I miss my friends / foster family / favourite dinky car / old school / old neighbourhood / old life”. When my husband and I welcomed Hope and Cody into our lives, their ages meant we could get to know them quickly. We discovered early on in Hope shared a fondness for sushi. Cody told us he had an intense dislike for being bored. On a deeper level, both kids could articulate their hopes and dreams – they were thoroughly excited to be part of a Real Family. Both could share their fears and regrets.

One of my personal regrets is that we were introduced to the kids as “Heidi and Adam” rather than their new “Mom and Dad”. When uttered from one of our kids’ mouths, the name Heidi took on a whole new meaning for me. It stung with things unsaid: “You’re not my real Mom so I’ll call you Heidi.” “You didn’t give birth to me so I’ll call you Heidi.” “There will always be a distance between us so I’ll call you Heidi.”

Looking back, I believe that hearing Heidi-this and Heidi-that in the early months of our adoption impacted my ability to bond with our kids immediately, causing me to hold them at a distance. I came into the adoption hurting after years of infertility. While I recognize that our children also came into the adoption hurting and therefore did not think of me as their Mom immediately, it still hurt. Try as I might, I could not shake my overwhelming sense of disappointment and loss over something I had yet to experience.

Cody caved first. A few months after moving in, as I tucked him into bed he exclaimed, “I love you, Mommy!” Angels sang and trumpets sounded at those sweet words. Over the next six months, he used Heidi/Adam and Mom/Dad interchangeably so we created a game to help his transition: if he used my given name, I’d ask, “Who?” and he’s smile and reply, “Mom” sheepishly. Gradually, as our trust grew and our relationship solidified, Cody put Heidi and Adam aside and called us Mom and Dad without issue.

Hope was a different story altogether; she blatantly refused to entertain the idea that we were anything but Heidi and Adam to her. After several months together, we sought input from a social worker, child youth worker, play therapist, psychologist, and psychiatrist. All agreed that most older adopted children called their new parents Mom and Dad within six months. Some stretched that out to a year. While it seemed to be taking Hope significantly longer than normal to call us Mom and Dad, all other signs of attachment looked positive so we were instructed to let our daughter find her way to us in her own time. We were to be patient.

Patience has never been my strong point. A year came and went. Eighteen months came and went. Just when I became convinced Hope would never call us by the words I so longed to hear, a strange thing happened and our pre-teen attempted to call my husband Dad for the first time! Angels sang and trumpets sounded, albeit quietly for I doubt anyone has used that word with less enthusiasm. It was as if Hope turned into a robot every time she had to get his attention. After a few weeks, she also tried Mom on for size. When she first started to use the labels Mom and Dad, she did so completely devoid of emotion and an entirely new set of angst emerged: I now worried that we (OK, I) guilted her into it.

Skipping ahead, our family celebrates our third anniversary this month. At some point during this past year, our daughter shed her robotic alter-ego and embraced the habit of calling us Mom and Dad exclusively. Friends and family comment on the change frequently. It’s now clear to everyone that Hope is not just paying us lip service; she finally considers us to be her parents.

Heidi, Adam, Hope and Cody

Our kids will always have their birth mother and she will always hold a special place in their hearts. I honestly don’t want to replace her. But I did adopt them with the full intention of becoming their Mom. I may not have given birth to them but I will be here for the long haul. After two and a half years of hearing it from Cody and a glorious year of hearing it from Hope, I have yet to tire of hearing Mom in reference to myself. Throughout our adoption journey, this simple word has taken on a new meaning for me, along with others like it: Dad, Daughter, Son, Family. Angels sing and trumpets sound every single time one of our kids calls me Mom and I doubt that will ever change. At least I hope not. Because I love that sound and all that it stands for. Mom.

 

Heidi Marr became InstaMom to Hope and Cody when they moved in with she and her husband in September 2009. Her article – Ten Things We Wish Someone Had Told Us Before We Adopted – first appeared in the Adoption Council of Ontario’s (ACO) eNewsletter (March, 2011) and later in the June 2011 issue of Creating Families Magazine. Heidi is a regular panel presenter at PRIDE training for prospective adoptive parents in Milton and Burlington and has also spoken at an Adoptive Families in Waiting group session in London, Ontario. She is co-presenting A Journey Through Placement… What We Learned From Each Other: An Adoption Practitioner and Adoptive Parent’s Reflections at the Toronto ACO Education Day in October, 2012. Email Heidi at InstaMom.Heidi@gmail.com or Like her on Facebook: www.facebook.com/InstaMom.Heidi.

Filed Under: Adoption, Family Stories, Older Child Adoption

On The Journey to a Dream

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June 20, 2012 By 2 Comments

author: Ashleigh

Our dream was simple: we had two kids and we wanted one more. Creating our family initially was very easy. We were fortunate that infertility hadn’t woven it’s way through our family’s life. We also had the good fortunate of an agency who  forecasted quick referral timelines…even for babies. And, we could request our gender of preference to boot.

Aside from the above, parts of the dream included our three children being close in age. (We thought this would be easy since our youngest was 13 months when we started our homestudy.) Unspoken also was the desire that our family would be complete by the time I turned thirty. No particular reason. It was simply a number that settled well in my mind. And being a proactive, prepared planner, this seemed easy enough.

Our dream quickly turned to a nightmare of sorts in July of 2009 along with more than a couple hundred other families. And, we all know about the Imagine Adoptions Bankruptcy so there’s no need to rehash it.

Days of waiting turned to months turned to years and we truly wondered: when…if…how…would this ever happen? The dream was slipping away…our youngest turned two, then three, then four. Our eldest went from two (when we started our homestudy) and of course aged as well. One of the last things we did in 2010 was celebrate my 30thbirthday. It was bittersweet. We were blessed. I was blessed. I knew that. But the ache was still there.

On May 5, 2011 we received our call.

She, of course was perfect. And she was born while I was thirty. I had my three kids, my dream, while I was thirty. I just hadn’t known it.

And I look now at our three children. I watch them interact. Our nearly seven year old (gasp), our five year old, and our beautiful Ethiopian one year old. And the picture, regardless of how loud and chaotic it may sometimes feel, well it’s perfect.

I never would have pictured or anticipated our family to be completed the way it has been. But by giving up (or rather losing) control of our situation, our blessings abound. We never could have fathomed such a gift.

And, it’s the dream.

It’s our dream.

We just didn’t…we couldn’t see our dream in it’s entirety until it was revealed. In time.

I heard a saying on the radio the other day and it went something like this:

Sometimes, on the journey to a dream we find a new dream.

And it’s even better.

Raising three kids is crazy. International adoption is possibly crazier! After sharing and offering glimpses into her family’s Ethiopian adoption journey to their daughter over the course of nearly four years at www.thekeizerfamily.blogspot.com, Ashleigh now shares her passions including healthy eating, budget friendly living, adoption (Ethiopian especially!), and family life at http://livehealthyonadime.wordpress.com/. She is also a regular contributor to Adoption Magazine.

Filed Under: Family Stories

At Home or Abroad?

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May 25, 2012 By 1 Comment

author: Marcia

Yesterday we were sitting at a big park, watching our kids, along with a slew of other kids, as they raced around and had fun. We saw a couple little girls with curls who were really adorable. Something in my man’s demeanor changed and he said “Let’s look into adopting from our province…maybe a baby with HIV”.

So with that, we may look into domestic adoption but with medical needs. After all, why shouldn’t we look into the kids that need homes right here in our own country? Yes, there are kids in desperate needs abroad but there are many here in our province, waiting for a family to take them and make them a part of a family unit forever. We’ve been asking ourselves if we are supposed to adopt again and if so, do we do an international? And where exactly in the world would be the place for us to go?

Medical needs or learning disabilities, or exposure to drugs in utero just don’t scare us like they used to. I remember when we were first looking into adoption, so that we could become parents, we were a little fearful of the unknown. The thought of special needs of any sort kind of freaked us out. I knew that whether I carried the baby or not, something could go “wrong” and our child could end up with needs. After all, if our preemie son would have lived, he most likely would have had some significant special needs. You just never know.

Now that we are blessed parents to four very unique individuals, some with special needs and some without, we know that life throws unexpected curve balls and you must “roll with the punches”, as they say. Some of our children were exposed to drugs etc. in utero and some were not.  The “one” that we thought would be totally healthy, because the birth mom was healthy and took care in pregnancy, has some of the most significant needs. Ironic, no?

Some may wonder how we expect to meet the needs of all of our children. More children = more needs = more challenges? Are we crazy? Well, that goes without saying.

I used to wonder if I could handle having children at all, with the sleep deprivation and all that jazz. Since I have Fibro and CFS, I secretly wondered how I would do it. I didn’t dare say it out loud but deep down I knew that others wondered too. I won’t say there haven’t been bad days. Days where I just want it to be quiet. Days where I wish that it would be bedtime at 10am. There have definitely been those days. But from what I hear that is a normal occurrence for mothers of any kind. I still have days (many) where I feel like I am failing my kids. When I think my house could be cleaner if only I had more energy. But then again, I have friends who have the same challenges. And they are great moms. I trust God works through my weaknesses.

I think that it’s not really about ME now, is it? I kind of gave that up when I said “Yes” to Jesus. It’s all about Him. What does He want? What does HE have planned for my life and the life of my family? How can we make a difference in this world? How will we shine his light to those around us? Who does he have for us to share his love with?

And it’s about a child that needs a family. And quite frankly, maybe it is a family that needs a child. Our family. We don’t have wealth or a big house or fancy thingamajigs but we do have love. We do have a stable and yet crazy family. We have siblings just waiting for another.

Again, we have no idea what God has planned in our future…none of us do. We are asked to walk obediently and with faith. Sometimes it’s the crazy that makes sense. When something seems nuts to others, maybe it’s just the thing that will stretch our faith and our lives. The path less travelled…well, you know what they say!

So here we are. Just here. Waiting and wondering. Who knows what will happen?

So exciting isn’t it? The unknown? Usually it scares the crud out of me!

Marcia is a stay-at-home mom and pastor’s wife, who rarely stays home and doesn’t act at all like a pastor’s wife. She and her husband, Richard, are blessed to parent four children, all of whom came through the miracle of adoption. Two were adopted through private domestic adoption and two through the Foster-to-Adopt program with the Alberta Government. They are considering adding another child to their family either through an International Waiting Child program or adopting a special needs child from their province. Marcia likes to blog about their life adventures at Love my Life and has started a blog to record their next adoption journey at Running to Eden. Marcia is a regular contributor to Adoption Magazine. Writing a book is her next venture, if she ever catches a break to finish it.
Filed Under: Adoption, Family Stories
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