Today is Mother’s Day 2017. I have received countless handmade treasures. This is a tradition now. I have made it that way. I want the kids to know that I am human too, and I like to be acknowledged. They know it, and because of it, they spend the day lavishing kindness upon me. I love their hearts.
As a gift to myself, on this Mother’s Day, and in celebration of the beginning of summer-like weather, I decided it was time for a new journaling project. I have handwritten journals from my teen years through 2009, when this blog began. I won’t make this blog about my teenage musings, because eeeuuww, and because The Full Plate, was born as a journal for my babies. I have chronicled every single second with these babies, because they are such an amazing gift to me.
But, because I love journaling, I have chronicled the times when I thought I would never, ever get to be a mother. I have decided to include some of that journey in this blog. I want the kids to know about those moments too. Those moments are part of their story.
I have a long and winding health history that led Joe and I to the decision never to have children through pregnancy. It just wasn’t something we wanted. I didn’t want pregnancy, or the bed rest that would come with it for me. I didn’t want to take time off from work. I like working. It is part of my identity. That was my personal choice. I’m certain I will get messages calling me selfish. Save your typing fingers. That ship has sailed.
We decided on adoption early in our marriage. We thought it would be the easier answer for us.
We were so naive.
I read my journals from our first adoption and I blush and everything I didn’t know. I never thought I would publish ANY excerpts from these days. I feel stupid reading them over every single time. We had totally unrealistic expectations of adoption, and we had OVER $20,000 stolen from us. We had to threaten to sue an agency to get it back. We trusted a Social Worker so completely. She didn’t have our best interests even in mind when she let us down the path to where we had to end our adoption.
This morning, when I opened my Mother’s Day card from Sofia, the little token in the image above fell out of her card and into my lap. I totally believe that was a message, because it’s Mother’s Day, and this really couldn’t have been more of a journey for me.
I’ve published my first, failed, journey to becoming a mother HERE.
Obviously, I am a mother now. I am a mother SO many times over. This is now part of my identity too. I hope to become a mother again. For all the waiting mothers, I want to share this story, because I know many, many people who lived through the same thing Joe and I did to become parents. Maybe you’re living through it now.
These posts all occurred January 2002, when we started the adoption process, through the end of September 2002, when we made the choice to end the adoption. During the following eight weeks, we would go through the process of suing our agency to get our money back so that we could pick up the pieces and try to adopt again.
We didn’t know that, during this time, there was a woman giving birth a child that she would make an adoption plan for, and then decide to withdraw it.
We spent the week of Christmas 2002 in the depths of despair. We thought everything was lost.
Our money was returned to us shortly after Christmas 2002. That same week, the week our money was returned to us, the woman who had made the decision NOT to place her baby, decided she did need to make an adoption plan.
At the time she decided this was what she needed, her son was four months old. We met her and her son the second week in January. He became our son too a few days later, shortly after he turned five months old. It was if he was waiting for us.
His name is now Cameren. He turned 14 this past September.
We could have missed this.
I want to share this story, and the way Cam’s pain, his birth mom’s pain, and our pain is so deeply intertwined. I want people traveling this same road to know that there is sometimes a story that, in the moment, you just might not see.
If you can’t see your story right now, that’s okay. I am holding space for you, and I am praying for the future for you, whether it is motherhood, or something completely different.
–FullPlateMom, who would love to hear your story.