My oldest son was probably about 5 at the time and middle son about 3. My husband and I have always had pictures up around the house of my placed son, Will, and have always been open to not only talking about the pictures but about the boy in the pictures. My oldest son gained this overwhelming interest in his brother Will and so curious about him. I remember so many questions about brother Will from our sons such as ‘what is his favorite color’, ‘does he think about me’, ‘do we like the same foods’. It was heartbreaking at times. I would have moments of wonder as to whether or not my desire to be open with my children about Will was hurting them or helping them. I made a vow to make sure I continued being open and sensitive to them and their questions, after all, it was the truth. Then it hit me, what if Will had these same questions about his brothers? The adoptive parents and I have remained open so they indeed know about my children at home and I often update them with their progress. So I made the decision to make a little treasure to send to Will. The boys and I sat down at the table, flipped through tubs of pictures and started on a scrapbook for Will with all of the boy’s personal favorites. We made each page tailored around the boys and added a picture with things like their favorite color, favorite superhero favorite costumes and so on. We eventually had this rather thick scrapbook that would teach brother Will everything he could possibly be wondering about his brothers from afar. We were so excited to get it sent off. It’s amazing how we sometimes over look the obvious things but it takes a simple mind of a child to open our eyes. I had not thought of the flip side that Will could be wondering the same things about his brothers until my sons had asked me so many of their own. It felt so good to be able to send this scrapbook that showcased my two little guys growing up and could perhaps be something that Will would treasure.

A few weeks had gone by and I had put it out of my mind about sending the scrapbook to Will when in the mail we received a package. As I have detailed in my last blog my heart would skip a beat when I would receive a letter from the adoptive parents. I ripped open the package and inside was a little book, red and blue with a cute little string fastener. I quickly opened the book and right before me was a scrapbook from Will, himself. He had loved the book we sent him of the boys so much that he made one for them. Tears welled up in my eyes as I began flipping through the pages smiling from ear to ear and amazed at seeing Will’s handwriting for the first time ever…it was so incredible. I couldn’t wait to show my boys! This book instantly became the most read book, ever, in our house. It detailed all of Will’s favorites! We were so thankful to learn it all, see it, and see his smiling face. We got to learn so much about him from the pages of this little book.  My oldest son carried it around in his backpack the majority of that year. As much as I treasured this little book and wanted to keep it perfect and safe on a shelf, it meant the world to my oldest to carry it around with him everywhere, to have in his hands something his brother created, it gave him the connection he had been longing for and answered a lot of his looming questions that I had no answer to. This little book will always be a treasure. So back to the beginning of this blog…what is it about a treasure?? It’s the connection it gives us, it’s the emotion it creates in us us and the sense of comfort.

If you have an open adoption and curious children like mine, I highly recommend getting them involved creating their own scrapbook to send.

I remember the day I received one particular letter in the mail, dated 12/30/06. It was from the adoptive parents and I couldn’t wait to read the latest of their journey and triumphs. The letter starts out talking about the latest in weather and a great snow storm, their latest in publishing 3 new music albums and then how they just adopted a puppy for Will. Then, nothing I could have expected, she goes on to explain that Will is sick. My heart sank and tears started to flow as I read line after line of this little 8 year old being diagnosed with Diabetes. Never in my wildest dreams would I have suspected that he would be anything other than a happy bouncing child with the world at his hands to explore. I suddenly felt helpless and guilty. This child I placed has a lifelong challenge to embrace and I am not there to help. It took days for the news to sink in and I couldn’t help but feel pain and unrest for the three of them.

I spent a lot of time praying and reflecting on my new letter. As I read it over and over hoping to uncover my part I realized my son Will was placed in the best hands. The lines of the letter showed tremendous effort on his parent’s part to research his symptoms prior to him being seen by his doctor, in fact they were so in tune with Will they knew what they were up against before the diabetes diagnosis. As soon as they stumbled upon an article that laid out his exact symptoms they were on the phone with several doctors and he was tested, diagnosed and treated prior to any damage setting into his little body. For this I felt tremendous comfort and relief. I felt blessed for this little man, felt overwhelmed with relief that he was placed in the best hands possible. I was also thankful that they cared enough about me to share this news.

It has been 5 years since his diagnosis and they have described him as being so brave in this fight, he knows when to give himself shots, he knows how to manage the disease but more importantly he has an incredible mom and dad by his side with his health as their number one priority.

This letter is one of my top treasures, the words it contains show true strength, hope, comfort and love from incredible parents. Will is blessed and in turn I am blessed.

So when you say ‘open adoption’ does it mean that as a birth mother you can walk in and out of the life of the adoptive parents freely? OR does it mean that the adoptive parents can walk in and out of yours just the same? There seems to be no true definition across the board for open adoption. What I mean by that is your open adoption is what you design it to be. Its sets of boundaries that you create with each other, ultimately it’s for the benefit of the child involved and comes down to what is absolutely best for him/her.

When I chose ‘open adoption’ it meant something different then than it does to me today. I was so young at the time, naive in a sense and perhaps thought that ‘open adoption’ meant that I was privy to all the details of my son’s life. I was so grateful for all the information they chose to share with me, pictures they would send by mail, and emails of his successes and struggles. I watched this amazing family unit grow and experience what all families do…love. I found myself trying to step back and observe and not force myself into their unit, they deserved to have their family with no strings attached. I wanted them to know this was THEIR family, sure I helped create it…but ultimately this was how God had planned it, the three of them. ‘Open’ transformed in my mind to, I will reach out to say hello every so often so they know I care and I won’t bombard them with questions but wish success in it and share news of my life. But it also meant that I will gladly accept any communication they wished with me.

Now, you may have your ‘open adoption’ completely different. You may have struggled with the pain of the adoptive parents pulling back, or you may have decided to close the door yourself. You may have a wonderful relationship and speak daily and interact directly with your child. You may just be in the process of adoption and considering if open adoption is something you wish for.

So how ’open’ is ‘open adoption’? It is as open as you design it to be, it is as open as you chose it to be, it can evolve into something great. Above all it is about one major factor, the child involved and what is beneficial to their happiness. There really is no right or wrong answer as long as it is done with an open heart and open mind.

Photo Credit: Denise O.

After giving up my son for adoption (hate the term giving up btw) that first year was difficult. I was hung up on the dates and special things that he was experiencing that I was not. Although it was the best thing for him, I still had the pain. I missed all the first’s that are so special, and Holidays…I reminded myself of these things daily. Why? Because it’s part of the process of healing?? I eventually grew num to the dates and tried to block it out of my mind. It wasn’t until my husband and I had our first son, Daniel, and his very first birthday rolled around that I found myself on my knees weeping. This is what all the ‘first’s’ felt like! I remember calling the adoptive parents just to hear their voice and tell them how lucky Will was to have them…and now how lucky I was to have my Daniel. My point to you is this, there are going to be ‘day’s like this’ when you will feel the sting of whatever today represents to you. Think of the good and the ‘WOW’ of those dates, it will comfort you more than the ‘OWW’.

I say to you, my birth mother friends, remember the joy and the happiness you have provided not only your child but the parents that longed for them. When those dates roll around, keep your chin held high because you, my friend, made a huge impact in more ways than one.

Today, I am smiling on a day that used to bring me big tears. It’s my dear father’s birthday, who passed away when I was pregnant with my second son. Day’s like these would remind me of what I am missing out on, what he is missing out on, and even sadder what my children are missing out on. You know you are getting to a place of healing and strength when days that once paralyzed you make you smile. Happy birthday Daddy!! (ok maybe just one tear )

Your title says a lot about you and your heart. I am proud of each of my titles, they tell my story without a story.

What is your title?

My boys have spent the week at football camp. This is our first experience putting the children in such an involved sport, we stand on the side lines with a tear in our eyes overwhelmed with pride! No, that’s not the story…I will cut to the chase. I meet my husband and the boys at the field after work. Camp ends, all is well and we head home with thoughts of grilling on our minds. I head out ahead of him with our three year old and as I am pulling out of the parking lot I see my husband and the other two ‘tough football’ studs jogging to their car. We catch up with each other on the road home at a stop light with me right behind them. The light turns green, I see my husband start to go so naturally I start to go and I turn back to say something to my littlest man and then CRASH!! I slammed into the back of my husband’s car! I sat there in shock for a second not understanding what just happened, weren’t we just driving? My son instantly starts crying in fear, my husband jumps out of his car and comes over to make sure we are both ok. We were, thankfully, just scared and confused. I still am! How did I manage to lose sight of what was at hand, driving, and ram one of our cars into another? First, must say thank goodness I didn’t run into someone else that would have led to many more issues with insurance, traffic ticket etc. We collected ourselves and drove home and I stood and stared in shock at the damage I caused to our families vehicles. Ugh. Needless to say I am still a little gun shy behind the wheel! On my drive into work this morning every little car switching lanes or tapping on their break would send me into panic. Then it hit me! It REALLY is okay to slow down! So that is what I did, I slowed my speed and decided not to rush and just go with the flow…I would eventually get to my destination.

This is so true in life! It REALLY is okay to slow down! Think about the times in life where you were stressed, anxious, sad, emotional, hurting or even happy. If we only heeded those words then the pain or the experience might have changed.

I know this to be true with processing and coping with giving my son up for adoption. Rushing through the pain the sorrow and the separation did me no good. I am guilty of it. I tried so hard to get back to normal mode of operation. What if I slowed down a little? I would have made it to the same destination but perhaps with just a little more care and attention to the task at hand (healing).

Keep this in mind with your own struggles and experiences. Slow down and process them or enjoy them, they are not going anywhere. Don’t rush through your emotions…they are part of the final destination.

~ Denise

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Over the course of my pregnancy my father and step-mother seemed to turn a blind eye and operate like I was not pregnant and a bit invisible. Looking back I suppose their lack of communication with me made my decision just that ‘my decision’ and not clouded. Although home was uncomfortable my relationship with my unborn child’s soon to be parents was blossoming. They were very interested in making sure I was doing ok, that I was healthy, and had everything I needed. They were going through all the motions with securing an adoption agency that worked across states, being cleared by FBI and everyone else (so evasive!!) and preparing their home. (Did you know there is a drug that will help you develop milk to breast feed? She started this and was getting amazing results in preparation for a newborn). I was blessed enough to land a job that offered full coverage health insurance so I received the best possible care available, which isn’t always the case in these situations. My relationship with my forever man was blossoming as well, he was my rock and experienced the entire pregnancy with me, including the cravings of pizza and chinese food. When I met the adoptive parents for the first time it was actually with my boyfriend and his parents, not my own. His parents were more accepting to the situation than anyone, they supported the adoption, and more importantly supported the fact that their son was dating someone who just turned 18 and was pregnant. That was huge and spoke volumes to the kind of people they were/are.

Nine months seemed to take an eternity. I have to be honest, it was difficult. I gained 75lbs on top of my already Freshman 30, ha! But, I also was dealing with the loss already, I was sad that I would be parting with this child growing so peacefully in my belly. Don’t get me wrong, I was not wavering on my decision I was starting to grieve…secretly. I knew that God planned it this way and that He would reward me for the good deed with a family of my own some day. I think I was starting to grow up, after all these were pretty adult like scenarios I was experiencing so I had no other choice. I tried to stay focused over my pregnancy and tried to operate as though life was as it should be and to not depress myself with the fact that I was not able to carry on with college since I needed a job to support myself now. I tried to pretend I was not getting judgmental stares by others as I was in public. I tried to pretend that my heart was ready to carry more pain.

I remember my last doctor’s appointment very clearly. My OBGYN was a sweet lady who would ask me subtle questions at every visit. This last visit she shed tears over my situation and the adoption because she had begun to connect with me. My visit with her was just enough to send my body into labor in the wee hours of the following morning. I called my boyfriend, who was living with his parents, his father answered and with his sweet genuine concern for me asked me if it was ‘time’ as he ran to give the phone to his son. It indeed was time. I tried to keep myself busy while waiting for him to drive the 20 minutes to pick me up, I made my bed, packed a bag and tried to calm my racing heart. I tip-toed up the stairs to not wake my father and step-mother and off I went. It still saddens me that I didn’t feel that I could go wake my father and ask for a ride to the hospital. My boyfriend arrived and we went and checked into the hospital then we called the soon to be parents, one hopped on a plane in order to not miss the delivery, and one hopped in a car with all the baby necessities that they had awaiting this precious little one.

Nothing could prepare me for the hours of labor that I was about to endure. I honestly don’t even want to recall how many of them there actually were! All I know is the pain was immense, I can still hear myself screaming. By time I received an epidural they realized there was something wrong with the baby’s heart beat and we needed to deliver, NOW. He was already in the birth canal so c-section was not an option and the cord was wrapped around his neck (which isn’t uncommon). My doctor arrived as did the soon to be Mom. It was time. The epidural completely paralyzed my right side so when the doctor yelled at me to push I felt nothing, I couldn’t even tell if I was pushing. The heart beat was dropping more. She pulled out a device called the vacuum…broke the first…the second failed. Pulled out the forceps as a nurse straddled my chest to push on my stomach another grabbed the waist of the doctor and they pulled with all their might. He was finally out and could take a breath, he was going to be ok. The new crying happy Mom left with him as the doctors finished their work on me. I glanced to the end of the bed and to my horror was mass amounts of blood, I look to the floor and there was more. What had happened to me? My body had been broken! It took 155 stitches to repair the damage of birth which also gave me a broken tailbone. I was shocked and in horrible pain which took months to diminish. I remember just sobbing and biting my pillow begging for the pain medicine to just take some of it away. All I could think of was the new parents were tucked away in another room with their precious little baby, examining his fingers, toes, nose, little ears, and sounds. Fulfilling their hearts and completing their family made this pain bearable. My boyfriend stayed with me in the hospital that night and we got a visit from Will, they named him Will. Till this day I always repeat in my head ‘His Will be done’.

I had given birth to new life.

We have maintained an open adoption and I can’t wait to share more of the joys with you. Until then my friend, count your blessings!

As for where I stand today, I am proud to call myself a birth-mother, wife (yes to my forever man), mommy (God gave me 3 more boys!), and children’s book author (hoping one day I will touch you and yours).

~ Denise

My parents were High School sweethearts, so I have been told. My father, a genius in the technology world and a math wizard. My mother, a pretty face but held no true passions. They became pregnant out of wedlock, at the ages of 18 and 16, which prompted my father to enlist in the Air Force. They wed and instantly transferred out of state to start their perfect life as newlyweds. Well, although their marriage lasted eleven years, it was over shortly after it began. After being stationed away from her family my mother sunk into a tank of deep depression. Fast forward several years and three children later, she had sunk even further. Our typical day as children always included verbal and physical abuse, lack of supervision and fending for ourselves, until our father came home from work then she would start with him. Eventually my father divorced and after spending his last penny on a lawyer he gained full custody of me and my two brothers. From that moment we were a family of four. My oldest brother and I were responsible for handling not only the household while our father worked three jobs, but also raising our little brother. As you can probably imagine if you have an 8 year old (which I currently do), they are not the best option to put in charge of themselves, a house, and a 3 year old baby. BUT, it was what we had to do. The years were hard, we went without a lot, but our father was always my hero for saving us from what we had to endure with our mother. Our little family of four remained that way for many years.

My father eventually began dating a lady who had two daughters, after a few short months they married. We were now a BIG happy blended family, until we settled in with each other. My now step-mother had no favor for my brothers or I, she was very difficult to please, impossible to communicate with let alone compete with. From the moment my father said ‘I DO’ to her our relationship as his children disappeared, I lost my Daddy. It felt like a familiar pattern yet again; life hard with a mother, life hard with no mother, life harder with a step-mother…felt never ending. The years under their roof were painful and very lonely. It’s amazing how a little love goes a long way and no love shrivels up your heart and soul.

I eventually graduated High School (whew) and got myself accepted into a college and secured a student loan (woohoo), I was going to be the first in my family to go to college from High School. I had my sights set on becoming an Occupational Therapist for handicapped children. Something in my heart told me that children would be my passion. I had this desire to reach those with pain, challenges, and needs to help make them feel better than I did as a child and more importantly LOVED.

I got to college and WOW, is this what real life was?? I was accustom to being grounded to the house or working, I had no idea that life could be this much fun!! I could make my own decisions, met incredible friends, and enjoyed what all college students did…staying out late, eating pizza at 1am, and a boyfriend. That year passed all too quickly but I was ready to transfer with my best friend to another University that was better suited for my studies. She and I parted ways for the summer back to our parent’s homes and our summer jobs. My college boyfriend and I ended our relationship, but I bounced back quickly when I met a tall strikingly handsome guy that same night while out with friends from High School. I was smitten! We instantly had a great connection, he started coming to church with me, we would walk his dogs at the park, and spend every free moment together. I saw him as my forever man. But then the unthinkable happened. I was not feeling right so reluctantly I bought a pregnancy test and sure enough I was pregnant, this couldn’t be possible! I was pregnant with my college boyfriend’s child. Just as my life was working in my favor I get stopped in my tracks. I was so upset and confused and scared. I had to dig down deep to my faith and seek help and answers. It took a lot of tears and soul searching but the answer was clear, this child wasn’t meant for me he was meant for someone else. I felt it, I knew it, I had asked for guidance and strength and nothing could change my mind, my unborn child was sent through me for another eager yet patient couple, somewhere. I know, you probably think it sounds odd but believe me it was incredible to feel and know something so clear.

My best friend’s mother knew of a couple that had tried to conceive on their own for 18 years and had no success, they had always said that if God wanted them to have a child He would bring one to their lives. She told them about me and arranged for us to talk on the phone which turned into us meeting face to face. I fell in love with them, they were a breath of fresh air, so loving, so tender, and they were the ones. That moment changed everything; my life, my passion, my heart, my inspirations and my direction. I was giving birth to new life in more than one way.

My story is far from over; this is just where my journey begins. Watch for my next post to read the following stages of my pregnancy and my connection with the soon to be parents of my unborn son.

Written by: Denise Olson, author of Geoff the Green Hippo, a children’s book about adoption.

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