Stressful Day

Tomorrow morning is our court date. I've been stressed out for several days, imagining myself walking into the courtroom only to see a well-dressed black man sitting calmly at the front of the room. I instantly know he's Baylie's birth father who has come to claim his rights. I'll be so relieved if I walk in tomorrow and he's not there.

I thought that would be the extent of my stress, but I got a call from David this morning telling me he no longer has a job. The Music School called him to say the school is closing effective today, so he is out of work. I was surprisingly calm until I found out that they also don't plan on paying him for the past two weeks that he's worked. I knew that kind of thing happened in Argentina (because it happened when I lived there), but I didn't realize it happened here in good old Happy Valley.  This couldn't have come as a big surprise to them and I think the whole thing smacks of a serious lack of ethics.

So between the two of us, we've spent the day checking out unemployment benefits, school loans, Utah Labor Commission, job postings, etc., etc. At least now I know why I was prompted not to leave my job when I had the chance earlier this year.

I've checked with the attorney and they've said this won't have any negative effect in court tomorrow. I hope not.

Today has not been one of my favorite days...

Hurricane Ike

I loved living in Houston. It's a great city. I loved the diversity, the friendly southerners, the opera, ballet, symphony, Astros, Texans and more. I miss my friends and I miss my favorite restaurants.

BUT I DON'T MISS HURRICANE SEASON! I don't miss empty shelves at the grocery store and the panic in your heart when the wind and rains start. During Rita, David and I tried to evacuate and spent 17 hours driving to Austin - a drive that usually takes three hours.

Unfortunately, we still own our home in Houston. Fortunately, the damage is not too bad. We have trees down. There are limbs on our roof and we don't know if there are any leaks. Our fence will have to be completely replaced. There has been no power in our neighborhood since Saturday. I can't even imagine being in the Houston humidity with no air conditioning.

Here are some pictures.

Limbs on our roof:

Tree down in the back yard (fortunately it missed the house):

Neighbor's backyard (no more fence):

What's black, white and red all over?

Me and Baylie after she spits her prunes all over both of us! (Actually the prunes are more dark brown than red, but that would ruin the joke.)

In the picture, she's eating green beans, but you get the idea. She loves spitting while eating her cereal now. It's so much more fun than just swallowing!

One more week until court (Tuesday, Sept. 23).

To Mom and Dad

I hope I haven't already posted this one.

Love

Love is 

   taking your little girl

   to the circus 

   when her brother is born

   so she'll know she's still important.

Love is

   wanting to walk 

   to school with your daughter

   even though she thinks

   she's old enough to walk alone.

Love is

   telling your daughter

   about sex

   and answering the hard questions

   even when you feel uncomfortable.

Love is

   letting your daughter

   stand on the sidelines

   sit in the dugout

   and drive your car.

Love is

   getting up early

   in the freezing dawn

   to meet your daughter

   for a morning swim.

Love is

   driving down Baja

   and leaving your daughter

   to live and work

   in a foreign land.

Love is

   trusting your daughter

   to choose the right man

   even when her choice

   seems unusual.

Love is

   crying with your daughter 

   when she tries 

   to start her own family

   and fails.

Love is

   opening a financial path

   to adoption for your daughter

   so she too

   can love her daughter.

Thanks Mom and Dad. I love you back.

Sometimes It's Hard to Be a Woman

Advance warning - this blog post is not for men or women who don't like talking about "feminine stuff." 

Since the day before I started my first period (I warned you about the topic...) when I was about 13 years old, I have suffered from horrible cramps, heavy bleeding and other discomforts. My entire life, this monthly visit has been accompanied by discomfort, nausea, public humiliation, etc., etc. I'll spare you details, but you could ask my mother about one very memorable trip to Milan where I spent most of one day standing in the shower. I remember reading Anne Frank where she talks about how happy she is to have her period. Strange girl (no disrespect intended).

I remember drinking some raspberry concoction (disgusting), doing exercises and a variety of other things to try and diminish my pain and discomfort. I must send a thank you out to the makers of Aleve as that is the only thing that has ever helped. I originally took it under a different name in prescription form and was so grateful when it became available over the counter.

In my attempts to get pregnant, I have taken different medications, given myself shots and been subjected to a variety of uncomfortable and painful tests and treatments. It wasn't until I was 39 that a doctor finally told me that I should just quit trying; I had less than a 5% chance of getting pregnant. It was actually a relief to just know.

And now, after having my latest period last for approximately 71 days, I'm going to undergo a uterine ablation. This is a procedure that will burn away the endometrial lining of my uterus. It sounds kind of extreme, but it's either that or a historectomy. It will be nice to not have my period for awhile.

You may wonder why I am blogging about this. Well, it's because I feel one of the biggest injustices of my life is that I've had to go through this if I wasn't going to have biological children. I am thrilled to be Baylie's mom and have no regrets about not having biological children, but I think I could have been spared all the garbage under the circumstances. 

Yummy Cereal

Okay, this is probably a blog only a mother would love since it's long and probably boring to everyone but me and David. Also, I apologize in advance for my obnoxious laugh. We're quite proud of Baylie's eating ability though.

The Joy of Adoption

Last night my mom and I went to a picnic hosted by our adoption agency. It was my first one, so I didn't really know what to expect. There were several families there and children of all sizes and colors.

I didn't know anyone but the ladies from the agency and I'm not usually outgoing in a group, so mostly I just sat with my mom and observed others.

As I looked around, I couldn't help but marvel at the happiness that surrounded me. I figured that most of these parents had been through what we had been through. The pain and heartache of infertility followed by the hope, frustration and financial stress of adoption. It's a long road and only someone who has walked it knows what it's really like. I got emotional thinking of how we all now share a joy only found through finally receiving a long-awaited child. My mom pointed out how the fathers in particular carried their new infants with such pride and posessiveness. It was a beautiful site to see. I particularly liked seeing other families like ours - white parents with beautiful black children (although I have to say that Baylie was the cutest baby there - I'm sure I'm totally objective about that.).

What a great job the ladies of Heart and Soul Adoptions have - to bring so much joy to so many people. And it's not an easy job. I don't know what everyone else is like to work with, but I know I wasn't easy. By the time I got to them, we had been trying to adopt for three years. I was emotionally exausted. I'm sure there were times I sounded sharp and impatient. I was stressed over how much it was costing to adopt and I couldn't always understand why everything happened how and when it did. But they were always kind, patient and positive. And they gave us the perfect baby. How can you ever repay someone for giving you the best blessing?

I don't know why our road to parenthood was as long or as contorted as it was, but I do know that I was meant to be Baylie's mom and she was meant to be my daughter. If anything had happened differently, we might have missed each other. Any pain I have been through is worth the joy I feel as I tuck her in at night and greet her smiling face every morning.