My Nest- Family room 1

Family room 1, originally uploaded by soukii.

Here’s the family room, complete with Scott playing the Wii.

 

My nest– the ACTUAL nest

Baby’s room, originally uploaded by soukii.

Here is the baby’s room. Completely plain, but totally acceptable. I’ve never been one to totally “decorate” the nursery. I’d rather not waste the money on something that they will outgrown in several years. So I just go with basic pieces. Heh, my babies have never complained!

 

My Nest- the Master bedroom

Master bedroom3, originally uploaded by soukii.

Not quite sure where all those dots came from on the image, but here is the bedroom. It is pretty small. There are 2 other walls that are used up by closets. The white cabinets is the start of the bathroom sink area that is PART of the bedroom. UCK. I really don’t like that feature of this house. Oh well.

 

My Nest– the kitchen

kitchen, originally uploaded by soukii.

The hub of every home. This kitchen is finally acceptable to me. I work hard to keep the dishes from piling up in the sink and to keep the UGLY countertops looking as clean as they can look.

 

Nesting???

Not to get all philosophical here, but does “nesting” truly exist?

I am 38 weeks pregnant and for the past 3 weeks I have been a mad-woman about cleaning and organizing the house. It has been really easy to blame it on “nesting,” especially when I get a little carried away by the hormones and get, um, a little, slightly, just a smidgen, nasty. It is easy to just to call it “nesting” and move on. Everyone accepts it as a fact that pregnant women go through a “phase” where they have an uncontrollable urge to get their environment ready for the upcoming arrival of baby.

But mine was more than just nesting. Nesting is too simple an explanation. It is not deep enough. I experienced something on a different scale. Not that “nesting” was not partially at work, but it in no way was the whole reason. No, I experienced something bigger.

But what?? I think it was a “planets aligning” kind of thing for me. It was MY TIME to get my act together. It was a combination of so many different things. It was because I experienced months of not being able to care for my home , my family, or myself. Months of HATING my new house and terribly missing my old home. Months of physically and mentally feeling like crap– worthless crap. And then a switch flipped in my brain, but it wasn’t any NEW information or a new way of looking at things. It was just that all of a sudden, I was READY. I was READY to move on. READY to make this house OUR HOME. READY to FEEL NORMAL again. READY to let happiness back into my life again. READY to love myself again.

Yes, it was that huge. And YES, it feels so good. GOD, was I READY! Thank you.

 

I am Pregnant, Hear me ROAR!

Grrrrrrrr. If you hear that sound coming from my direction, don’t worry, just RUN! I am so hormonal right now, but because of the Prozac, I can’t cry! I think that is why I’m lashing out at Scott and the kids, I just need the release. Except this feels yucky. I can feel the tears very close to my eyes, but they just don’t flow. It is a very weird feeling that, evidently, not all people on anti-depressants experience. But for me, it is the ONLY, sure-fire sign to know I am taking them and they are working.

I find this side-effect quite ironic. I’m not a girl who cries a lot– not when I’m depressed or normal. It is not even something I think about except when I can’t do it. Like now.

For example, I found out this evening that Scott threw away the box of Macy’s art-work from preschool through kindergarten. It was a HUGE box, I’ll give him that. But, I was going to go through it and save 10-12 things that I could scrapbook. I’ve moved it to Colorado and from Colorado because I had EVERY intention of going through it. I don’t know when, but it was always a plan. I wouldn’t have moved it twice if I just wanted it thrown away!

I can tell he feels bad. But in an effort for him not to feel SO badly, he blames me. He actually said, “Well, if you didn’t leave everything to do around here to me, I wouldn’t have thrown it away. It was something that was in ‘that room’ that I didn’t think you would miss. You wanted me to help you with the room, and that was one of the things I did. You throw away all their stuff now, why is that any different?”

I do not throw away all their stuff now. I throw away most of their stuff, but I save really creative, artsy or sentimental things. Back when Macy was in preschool and kindergarten, I didn’t know what I was going to do with any of the stuff, so it was easier to save everything. Plus, we had more space. Plus, she was the only kid bringing stuff home. Plus, it was in a nice, taped box labeled, “Macy’s Art.” Plus, isn’t he the one, who just last week accused me of being void of any sentiment because of all of their stuff that I throw away?

I just don’t get it. He knows not to throw away anything like that without asking. We have a garage full of boxes that I am currently going through, what would have been the harm in having 1 more for me to look at?

Re-hashing it is not helping either. The box was thrown out at least a week ago. The trash is gone. Nothing can bring it back or make me feel better about it. I just think a good cry would have made me feel a tiny bit better. Instead, I’m just mad at him and want to bite his head off. And that just makes us both feel badly.

And that’s just one example of when I would have really appreciated the ability to cry this weekend.

Bottom line: I’m 33 weeks pregnant, completely exhausted, hormonal, and motivated to finally get some crap done around this dump (can anyone say, “Nesting?”). But I can’t do it by myself because there are so many heavy boxes and things that I need help with. So I want him at my mercy. But he is also continuing to do all the other stuff that is expected of him around here and with the kids and his full-time job. I don’t blame him for being tired of waiting for me to finally get motivated. However, I think that because I am now, finally motivated, he should respect it and do whatever it takes to make me happy! I mean what’s wrong with that? <blush> I know, I know. But seriously? Hello? He’s been bitching at me for months to do something around here or tell him what to do with the stuff around here so he can make this house a home, and now that I finally am…. Oh, wait, it has to be on his terms. Grrrrr.

I guess I just expected him to be so grateful that I’m finally wanting to get stuff done, that he would just bend over backwards and do whatever I asked of him. That’s what it seemed like he would be willing to do when he was BITCHING at me for all those months. But I guess not.

 

Thoughts at 31 weeks

Back to regular scheduled blogging!

Ha, what did I write about before I was contacted by my biomother? Hmmm. Nothing nearly as exciting, I know, but in an effort to move on and get back to “regular life” I have to purposely write about something else or I fear I never will!

The other MAJOR thing going on with me is this little thing called pregnancy. I still wouldn’t say that this baby is real to me yet, despite how real the pregnancy is. That probably won’t make sense to many people, it barely does to me. But for the past several months I have been dealing with being pregnant: the gestational diabetes, the changes to my body, regulating my thyroid hormones, countless doctor appointments, etc. I have no problem understanding and accepting that I am pregnant. It is just another medical condition that I have to monitor and live with. Now, the fact that I’m going to have a baby boy, my baby son, to take care of in 8-10 weeks… Um, yeah, I can’t seem to wrap my head around that and make it real.

It is different than when I was pregnant with Macy and had NO CLUE what having an infant would really be like. With Macy’s pregnancy, I had a hard time understanding what it would be like to have a baby, and that caused significant anxiety. But, despite the anxiety, I knew I was going to have a baby at the end. With Owen’s pregnancy I was just ready for him to get here. I knew what it would entail and I couldn’t wait to start.

Now with this one? I know what I’m in for, but it just doesn’t seem like it is really going to happen to me so soon or at all. I think part of the reason for that is that I have no physical space for this baby set up in this tiny house, yet. His room is wall to wall boxes of crap that I have yet to go through and decide to keep and put away or just throw away. Plus, his room is also full of all the miscellany crap that I want to keep but have no place for anywhere in this home: my scrapbooking supplies, boxes of photographs, completed scrapbooks, the kids’ books, our books, kid craft supplies, our heavy “Colorado Winter” coats and boots, and a ton of other stuff I just put in there to deal with later. Um yeah, I think later has come and gone. I need to do it NOW!

One problem is, nesting hasn’t set in yet, if it even ever will, because I can’t seem to wrap my head around actually bringing home an infant. Hmmm, another problem, this house isn’t “home.” Maybe I just don’t really want to bring him home to this place we are living. I think the little angry girl in me has her arms crossed in front of her and is saying, “This is not my home. This is not going to be my home. Nope. Never. Never. And YOU can’t make me!”

I realize how juvenile that sentiment is, but that is how I feel sometimes when I walk through the doors of this house. I don’t consciously say that, but I think that is the feeling DEEP behind everything I have to do with this house, from the laundry, to dishes, to cooking and cleaning, to getting a place ready for baby. I just don’t want to do it because it is HERE.

Man, how selfish and spoiled is that? I know it is. I know I should feel “lucky” I have a roof over our head. “Lucky” that we were able to buy any type of house in Orange County on a single income. “Lucky” that we could afford a house that goes to such great schools. “Lucky.” Yucky. I am not there yet. My therapist says I am still “mourning” the life I left in Colorado, and until I can “grieve” it and stop being so angry about being plucked out of Colorado before I was ready to say goodbye, I won’t be able to think of this house as “home.” OK, maybe that is true, maybe I can buy that if I believe all that psychology mumbo-jumbo for a minute, but she didn’t tell me HOW to do that.

So how do I? The clock is ticking.

 

Adoption Saga: 1st Phone Call Recap

12/23/2008: Patty called me at 6pm on the dot. She told me she was going to put me on hold and then I would hear Kathy’s phone ring and we would all be on the line. The first part of the phone call was with Patty and Kathy and I. It lasted 38 minutes. Patty introduced us and Kathy started crying. She said I sounded like her. Kathy asked about my children and their names and spellings. She asked about my pregnancy.

Then Patty went over her 3 areas: Time Frames, Communication, and Etiquette.

• Time frame was about how we would each feel in the short and long term. For example: there are normal feelings of being overwhelmed for the adoptee that can manifest itself with anxiety and withdrawal over the first 6 months. She wanted Kathy to be aware that might happen and understand it is not uncommon, that way we can both recognize it if it happens to me. 
• Communication was Patty’s advice for some guidelines to how often we should talk. She advised for the first month we don’t talk for more than an hour at a time, twice per week. She advised that we set appointments for our phone calls until we learn each others schedules and routines. She said email can be in addition to the phone calls, but don’t make them too long and wordy. She said definitely send pictures to each other as soon as possible.
• Etiquette was about 3 topics we should not talk about for the first year: politics, religion, and financial habits. She also went over what to call each other. She explained that I might not be comfortable calling Kathy “mom” right away or ever. She said some people come up with unique names for each other. She asked if Kathy was OK with me calling her “Kathy,” since that was what I expressed being comfortable calling her. She said it was fine. I’m really glad Patty went over this subject, it just really put this delicate issue out there and let us address it right away.

Overall, the entire time the 3 of us were on the phone the tone was very light-hearted and kind of jovial. Most of my nerves were settled by the end of the first part of the conversation. We also had exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. When Patty’s part was done, we all hung up and Kathy called me back.

Kathy called me right back. We ended up talking for a little over 90 minutes. It was very, very nice. We went back and forth with questions and answers, sometimes both of us started talking at the same time. She usually let me go first. Several topics were started which lead to another topic, which meant having to go back to the first topic after the second tangent was completed. But it all felt very natural. The whole time I kept thinking, “I can’t believe I am talking to her! She is a real person!”

One of the first things Kathy shared with me was that she never saw me. She didn’t think she should look at me. That was one of her biggest regrets. She also didn’t know what I was named. She said that if she had kept me she was going to name me Jessie Ann. The only name she ever saw was: Baby Girl XYZ (her last name).

I asked her about how she found my family and she confirmed the story my mother had told me. In fact, the lady I knew as Aunt Helen was actually her godmother, and she called her Aunt Helen too! I shared with her my memories of Aunt Helen’s home, including these silly penny banks she had that my brother and I loved to play with. She too remembered playing with them. I told her that Aunt Helen’s funeral was the first funeral I ever attended. She explained how Helen and her husband, Hugo, had become friends with Kathy’s parents when Hugo and her dad worked together. She also shared how Hugo disowned her father as a friend when he left her mother and her when she was a young girl. Even more interesting is that Hugo and her mother lived together as a couple the last 20 years of her mother’s life! They never got married because her mother had been married 3 times before and never wanted to get married again. However, that was an unfortunate choice because when her mother developed Alzheimer’s disease, Hugo was very limited in what he could authorize on her behalf, since Kathy lived out of state. Also an interesting aside, when her mom was put in a care home, Hugo asked Kathy if she knew any single woman who would cook, clean, and take care of him! Men! Ha, so fearful of being alone!

I asked if she had any siblings and she said she has a half brother from her mom’s side whom she stopped talking to years ago. And she also has a half sister from her dad’s side, that she knows about, but she also doesn’t have contact with her.

One of the first things she asked me is about motherhood. I thought that was interesting. I told her it wasn’t easy, but it was definitely rewarding. She told me that she had a tubal ligation in her 20s because she didn’t want to have other kids to replace me. She then said something about my dad, Chuck, having also had a vasectomy, but I either don’t remember why or she went on because I asked questions about him.

Turns out Chuck was a couple years older than her and was seeing another girl when she got pregnant with me.  She said they had been high school sweethearts, and she still considers him one of the great loves of her life. They continued to date after I was born, off and on, for what sounds like several years. She said her mom liked Chuck until she got pregnant with me and then never liked him since. She said Chuck’s sister didn’t like her later on because she (the sister) felt like Kathy never really let him go during their “off again” times. She said Chuck’s dad was a cool guy who was full Pechanga Indian. His mom was fair skinned and had blue eyes. She thinks my kids’ red hair may have come from her side. She said he talked to her 8 or 9 years ago and asked if she ever contacted me. She also spoke with him before Thanksgiving and said he was very aloof with her and said something about not wanting their past to be their future. She got the message he didn’t want to talk to her. I asked if she thought he’d want to hear from me and if that should come from her or me. She said she honestly didn’t know. Later on I mentioned my issues with depression and she said that she thought Chuck was prone to it too.

I told her about my history with thyroid cancer. I told her about my moving to Colorado and back and how that has personally affected me in many ways. I talked about my education and days of teaching high school. I explained why I didn’t think I was going to go back into the classroom, but was keeping my options open. Turns out she works in the education field in Washington. She works for the University and, I think, the credentialing office, but I didn’t write that down. But she definitely understood my frustration with the teaching profession. She was very knowledgeable about it.

She told me she loves animals and used to own horses. She wanted to be a vet at one time. I told her that I also wanted to be a vet when I was a little girl. I think she really liked that. She told me about the animals she currently owns (bunnies, chickens, cats (?), and would like some goats in the near future). I told her we were dog people now, since we put Timber down last year. I told her how growing up I wasn’t allowed pets, except for my newt. She got a kick out of that.

She is very artistic. In addition to designing jewelry (something Patty liked to talk about), she writes and plays folk music and plays African Drums with a performing group. She said when she first found out my name she wrote a song about me. That made me feel a little uncomfortable because what do you say about that? I’ve never had anyone do or say that to me. She said Chuck had an excellent voice and was very good at guitar. She said she thought he had what it takes to make something of himself with it. She asked about my artistic/musical side. I told her I didn’t consider myself such, but used to be pretty decent at the clarinet in high school. I also said that my kids are very interested in music and maybe this is what I needed to hear to encourage them a little more in that area.

I asked if she thought of me on my birthday and she confessed that while yes, she thought of me, she had gotten the date wrong! Oops. She said she had thought it was March 11th, not April 11th. She doesn’t know why or when she started thinking of it wrong, but thinks that maybe I was due in March and came late and that’s why that date stuck with her. To be honest, that’s a little disappointing that she didn’t know the day I was born, however listening to her talk about some of her memories from 33 years ago sounds a lot like how I remember things. It’s hard to explain. Details get fuzzy, but emotion and intention and there. She didn’t explain it that way, but I found myself understanding that her memory probably works like mine. Also, she was 17. Hello, my memories of 17 are not very clear, to say the least. I have to also imagine that for many years she blocked a lot of stuff out, too, which isn’t going to help with the remembering.

She asked a bit about my adopting family since I shared that my mom was not happy that Kathy contacted me. She said she would never want to cause my mom pain since she values and appreciates the life and love she gave me. I told her a little bit about my mom’s worries when I was growing up that Kathy would come knock on our door to take me back. I told her that my mom always appreciated that Kathy picked them to raise me (even though, through my conversation with Kathy, it was obvious that her mother was the driving force behind my adoption. Kathy’s mother knew about my parents wanting a baby and sort of set the whole thing up. Kathy seems to remember being pretty powerless over the whole thing.) I told her that my mom was an excellent mother, regardless of the issues we have now. I shared with her that my mother’s only hope and dream was to be a good mother and that she has set the bar very high for me. It wasn’t too awkward talking about my mom with her because it seemed she was genuinely happy that I had a good childhood.

Her sense of humor seemed similar to mine in its self-deprecating way, however, I got the distinct feeling she is much more self-confident than me (not a hard thing to accomplish). But she called herself “granola woman” and something else about sunflower child or something like that to indicate the way she lives. Evidently her chickens aide in the composting process? Composting and chickens are something I don’t pretend to know a thing about!  She also quoted Mark Twain about being a bad speller (she and I both consider ourselves bad spellers). I just LOVED that!

As we were over our hour limit already, she asked me a question I wish I could answer, “What are your hopes and dreams?” I think it is mainly a testament to my really rough last 6 months that I just don’t know anymore or if I ever knew. That is a question that I think is the key to my happiness and one of the reasons I have been so miserable is because I don’t know what I want anymore. I didn’t get into all of it with Kathy, but said that is a question I am trying to answer for myself right now too. I told her part of the answer is that I hope I am a good mother, but I know that is not my only desire, but it is the most important one right now.

All and all it was an awesome conversation. I got off the phone feeling sky-high with good feelings. We made an appointment to talk this Saturday at 10am. Less than 2 hours after I was off the phone I had an email from Kathy with a link to some photos she had collected of herself and 2 of Chuck. I then found a few pictures on my computer of me and the kids and sent those to her. I apologized and explained that I don’t hardly have any pictures of myself alone because I have not been happy with the way I’ve looked for the past several years. I shared with her that I hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed in how I looked.

 

Adoption Saga: Reaction to 1st phone call

Oh my, Oh my! I just got off the phone with bmom Kathy and it was AWESOME!

It was kind of like I knew her all my life– never thought I’d say those words. It was slightly awkward at some points, as I expected, but not overly so. It was better than I could have expected. It was surreal– which was exactly the word Patty said it would be for the first 3 weeks or so.

I am still trying to process everything, and plan on writing a re-cap of the first call because I took lots of notes. But right now, I am just sooooo exhausted. I didn’t get my daily pregnancy indulgence- AKA: my nap– because I was so nervous/worried about how the phone call would go. So now it is after 10pm and I am exhausted. I have a feeling I will not sleep easily, just because I have so many thoughts racing through my head, but I have to try!

 

Adoption Saga: Telling my Mom, sort of.

So, I didn’t want to tell my mom about my appointment to talk with bmom (Kathy) on the phone tonight. However, I needed to ask her if there was any information she could tell me, that’s not part of public record, that would help me identify this woman as my birthmom. You know, information that only my biological mother would know so that I could be sure of everything before I get involved. Also, to rule out a scam, although I haven’t been asked for any money, so what’s the chances of a scam being run without asking for money? Well, zero, besides just a cruel, cruel person. I don’t get the feeling that is what I’m dealing with, but I wanted to make sure I had some info that only my biological mother could verify.

I gently brought up with my mom that I told Patty (searcher lady) that I would communicate with Kathy via email after the first of the year. I explained to my mom that I’ve done a lot of research on adoptee/birthfamily reunions and that it would be helpful if she could tell me some information so that I could verify that Kathy is who she says she is.

I told her that I thought maybe I could ask Kathy about my birthmark. (It is in a hidden place.) My mom said, ”No, she won’t know about that. I was told by our lawyer that she didn’t even want to see you after you were born.” Really? How can that be? Hmm, got me thinking that bmom Kathy may have more issues than I even know about.

So then I asked what else would be only something the real Kathy would know? She mentioned the family that knew her family and my mom’s family, the way she was brought together with my family. I said, “Oh, the XYZ family?” And my mom was shocked that I knew. She didn’t remember telling me the connection between the families. I reminded her of when she told me several years back, and she still didn’t remember. Oh well, what can I say? She’s is losing it a bit.

I got the spelling of this family’s name so that I can verify how the two families came together. I asked my mom,

“Will she know this family’s name?”

“Oh yeah, if it is her, she will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Her mom and the mom of this family were friends. And believe me, she’ll know.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me that I’m going to find out?”

“No, not really. I just want you to hear it from her. I’m sure she will know XYZ family. You know, I just don’t think this is right?”

“What isn’t right?”

“I just think a birth family, especially the mother, has no right to contact the child.”

“Really? Even if I’m not a child anymore?”

“NO, No, I know, but she signed away her rights to you. I think it is different if the child seeks out the parents.”

“Well, I’ll have to see, but I’m glad she did it if it was something she wanted to do. I think she does have a right to find me, now that I’m an adult.”

“I just don’t. That’s why it was a closed adoption. How would you feel if Macy or Owen wanted to meet someone like this that would hurt you?”

“Uh, Mom, that’s impossible. Totally different.”

“No, just think about it.”

“I can’t, Mom. You know I’ll never understand how you feel about this on a personal level, I can just try to put myself in your position, which I have done, but I’ll never truly know. You know that I will always love you, right? That you are my mother, no matter what?”

“Yeah, I know. I just think this is so intrusive.”

“I know, but I’ve always been curious, I hope it will be good for me. I would have never sought her out because of the fear of being rejected by her, which is what a lot of birth mothers do, you know, if they are contacted by their child given up to adoption.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I just never wanted to hear that I wasn’t wanted again.”

“But we wanted you.”

“I know, but some people think there are psychological impacts that last for life when a child is “not wanted” by their biological mother. It’s been suggested to me by many of my therapists, however, I don’t think that is necessarily one of my issues. But what if it is?”

“I know. I just hope you get what you need from it. I don’t want you to get hurt or disappointed.”

“I know, Mom. I won’t. I don’t have any expectations and I’m not looking for a relationship with this woman.”

“OK. Be careful.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

I think it is good that we talked a little bit about it. She does sound a lot better about it than she did Thursday night, but she is definitely not happy about it.

The only other weird thing she said was when I asked about if she remembered the lawyer’s name. She said she had paperwork and receipts with the lawyer’s name on it still, because she wrote the check out to him for her (Kathy). ?!?! Did she pay Kathy for me? Hmm. I know that is possible in a private adoption, and I know she borrowed money from my dad’s mom to pay for the adoption, but I always assumed that was for the cost of the lawyer and going to court. Not quite sure how I feel to learn that I may have been paid for. Hmm. I’ll have to think on that later after I hear what Kathy has to say tonight.

I’m getting nervous. I need to go write down some questions, so I don’t forget what I want to know.