This continues and you think, “Maybe I am ok?”

There is a deep pain in birth-parents, and it is the loss of being a parent. Hold a baby and try not to cry. I dare you not to think about your child you placed.

Last night, I cried for the first time in awhile over my baby. Funny how things work out. In church today I sat with a 2 month old baby while Mom and Dad got some ministry.

Later as I chatted with Mom, I was blessed to be able to hold this baby. The weight hung in my arms and reminded me of the residual ache I experience. It reminded me of the pain anyone who has lost a child has felt.

Grief and sorrow are often times the companion of those of us who placed. Anger and self hatred grows unless we monitor it and grow, and are willing to be open to healing.  Part of healing is releasing the guilt and shame, and saying and truly believing that we are worthy of the love we gave selflessly. (read other blogs, I cover that topic, often.)

However one chooses to heal, it is vital that it must not be an escape, a recess from the reality of what you are feeling. What I experience, what you feel, whatever it is, hear me on this; YOU are OK. It is ok to cry and let out the pain, in fact it is therapeutic.

A friend once said that depression is anger turned within, and I used to be so bitter and full of hate. That isn’t saying I don’t get angry but now, because I have walked through healing I can see the symptoms and do the things that aid me, not set me back.

So who am I, if I am not a mother? Today I don’t know the answer, but through continued perseverance and knowing I have peace of mind and heart, I can find myself and dig myself out of the rubble of the experience and hopefully, help someone else out of their rubble too.

Today I choose to live for the moment and for the little joys of my existence. I dare you to dream and hold your hand out and help someone out of their pain, because when we move past our own needs, we often times more then not find the answer we were looking for.

Love to all my readers,

Have a beautiful day!

Nellie J.

Signing off parental rights.

I have a unique adoption story and anyone reading this knows their own story. Every story has a different flavor and experience, but we all share something similar.

Phoenix was 8-9 months old when his birth-first father and I signed off rights. We had each been pulled aside by our court appointed attorney’s and asked if we wanted to do it apart. Apparently we both agreed to stand together in front of the judge, and I will be frank, I don’t remember a whole lot about that day.

As we stood before the judge, he read us the termination of rights, and it was like being slowly stabbed, slowly and painfully flayed for all to see. I was giving up my chance for him to hold him as my own, and to be anything to him. It would be up to the adoptive parents to tell me and let me in, no longer me.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I replied with a soft resounding yes in agreement to let the judge know I understood just what I was doing.

I walked back to the wooden seats and sat next to Tara and grasped her hand, and looked her in the eye as the attourney’s discussed whatever they were saying and told her,

“I am so glad you are his.”

Even now, I feel that sadness, I feel a sorrow I can’t ever replace, but I have also walked through my adoption experience and worked and prayed and continually been open and honest about it.

There have been days where the only thing keeping me here was knowing I did the right thing, and if you look at some of my previous blogs, the phrase “To Live is To Love” has been a powerful motivator for many reasons, somewhat previously discussed.

Becoming a birth-first parent is when you boil it down, a choice. The prices and scars left from that choice echo for years in the lives of those around us, and it changes you.

Maybe you are struggling with your decision to adopt because you don’t want to see this hurt in your birth-parents. This is a choice, and with love and compassion and a willingness to see your family become whole, we become  a part of your story through it.

Open adoption has changed the way I see the world and made it possible to love in a greater capacity then felt ever before. I see pain etched in people’s faces and I know how deep the scars of life can run us down.

Adoption is a scar I chose, plain and simple. It also has made me a better, more complete person, even when I knowingly gave up my heart as a mother to allow for Tara and Family to have him as theirs.

See the world through Love today, because you have the capacity to love deeper then you ever thought when you choose adoption.

Loving you wonderful readers!

Nellie J.

Something in common with both pregnancies–

I ran away from responsibility, didn’t face the truth of the situation and when things got tough I found a way to cope. I escaped into video games, and TV and decided to not face the change that would happen, whether I was ready or not.

With the first born, Kenny, I celebrated and my pregnancy was very public and I was unaware of what it would take to become a parent. I had a ton of people come visit me in the hospital, and my family even welcomed me back into the fold after rejecting me for being pregnant out of wedlock and *gasp* a teenager. Funny how a baby changes everything.

Kenny was wanted, and I kept him. I loved him but for months I knew somewhere in my heart that he should have been placed. My mother was so latched onto him that I felt forced to do what I wasn’t ready and when I was forced to stand on my own feet as a young adult, I lost control and my life spiraled out of control. Parenting is hard–a blessing and if love could be all a child ever needed..well you understand, I think.

Fast forward to a 25 year old woman of a 7 year old son, loved beyond measure, and she falls in love, and gets pregnant. I thought I was sterile, thought it was impossible to get pregnant ever again.

I ended up homeless for a short while, and ended up moving in with my mother again. (disaster is spelled my mothers name, ha!) but this time, armed with experience and heartbreak over what was to come, I couldn’t face it. I made a decision to end my life when I had him, sign rights off and just exit this life. My emotions and life were in a tumble…

So what changed? As I wrote a note to all in my life I wrote one last line;

“Tell my children I love them.”

What a lie! My love would be worthless if I didn’t choose to live so a powerful phrase birthed from that moment–

“To live is to Love”

If love were all it took, who knows the path I would have taken, but I had to find a reason, an anchor to hold onto in the rocky times of my life. As a christian now, I anchor myself in Jesus, but that powerful reminder stays within me. I know where I came from, and today, I am who I am because I came through that fire, and out of what seemed a hopeless situation I lived.

People will have their thoughts on this post, and that’s ok. This isn’t for them–this is for you. I may not know your name, or your exact situation, but  know I understand how very difficult the decision you are about to make is. Sometimes we have to go through some very harsh experiences to get to that place where we find out just how very strong we are.

Hang on, hang tough–you can do this.

Love to all my readers,

Nellie J.

There is a lot one could say about this, on many topics, and situations–Let’s look at it from where I am today…

You know what I want? I want to stand up and proudly say who I am. I don’t want to sugar coat my life’s feelings and experiences, but I also want a positive outlook, more then that of a survivor. I was born to thrive.

As a birthparent, I want acceptance and as a woman, I want unconditional love and friendship–no flakes accepted into my life.

I hate dishonesty. Lets be open and allow the thoughts we have on adoption, on life in general to be shared. We were not made to hide behind a computer screen, but to interact with people and create relationships that make this world a place worth being  a part of.

In the same aspect, lets step out of the talking role, and just listen. The same struggles an adoptive parent may have may be something a birth parent struggles with. It’s called common ground and indifference is the enemy.

I am in a challenging mood, meaning I am seeking feedback and honesty on my facebook page. Some days I post lame things, but today I challenged my friends with a status that on any other day would make me go hide in a closet–

“What is one thing you as a birth-parent want more then anything else that is not material in relation to your adoption experience and role as a birth-parent?”

One friend wrote “Love” myself, “acceptance” and a friend said this moving piece.

“I just want my son to know that I love him more then anything else in this world & I would do anything for him.I hope as he gets older he knows that.”

She is going to see her bio-son tonight which is so awesome, and I honestly think and believe that he will.

Our love was not squandered when we chose adoption. It was planted and grows with each milestone and first step, tooth, etc. It grows with each moment of every day.

As I leave off today to face the day, and everything it holds, I hope you find what you really truly want and are able to have an open and honest dialog with someone you need to.

Lots of Love for all my readers,

Nellie J.

No greater love could there ever be a love that encompasses sorrow

Not even the darkest night can smother its heavenly light

It holds the broken and weary, embraces the torn parts and puts them together whole

This love stretches and grows within wiggles and kicks and sings lullabies

This love lets go leaving empty arms and leaves an ache that time cannot touch.

This love lets love go.

I was looking at a picture when I wrote this poem, of a mother’s hand holding a baby’s new little feet. In captions on the side it said “She did a beautiful thing”.

What can I tell you that you don’t already know? Or are you willing to see the point of another person, outside of your hurt and sorrow?

Sometimes we get stuck in our own ways of thinking, and that is OK sometimes but when sorrow is all you can focus on then what is its purpose? In adoption on all sides there is a sorrow that cannot seem to be touched or healed, but I believe that we can.

I have probably already blogged to death on this but the love you have for your children is the same love you deserve and sometimes when you reach that point where sorrow is your focus and you can’t see the light anymore, try something.

Look for the light in your life, for that moment that every time you think of it, you can’t help but smile. Can’t or won’t get out of bed because you feel you have no purpose? Get up, shower, wear something that makes you feel good, and do something that brings you joy.

I volunteer at a food pantry and when I get the opportunity to give to a family that truly appreciates the food they receive it makes my day. I know the food I may or may not have packed will be a reminder of joy for them. Sort of like a passing it forward thing.

I was sitting downstairs yesterday in the pantry for a moment and saw some food that was donated by a friend, and I thought to myself that it would go into a bag with the same spirit of giving that makes me happy to a family that would appreciate it.

I recently came to a point in my head and heart, a decision if you will about my relationship with my bio son Phoenix and life in general.

I decided that I was worth loving too.

When you choose adoption, it should be out of an act of selfless love, something bigger then yourself. The same love we didn’t know we had the capacity to hold is more then just for the children we place.

Wherever you are today, be gentle and try to not hold yourself by the same judgment you always have, and try to see yourself in the same love you are choosing for the life stirring within you.

Love,

Nellie J.

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My pregnancies were really difficult emotionally and physically, as I spent one preparing to parent and one to place 7 years after that. Both choices are hard, and both have long term effects on your life.

There was a lot of dark times when I was pregnant both times (ages 16 and 25), but I will focus on Phoenix’s for the purpose of this blog.

I remember fear so deep that it paralyzed me and kept me downtrodden, depression that could have capsized the Titanic with a thought. I didn’t have a lot of family support and spent my pregnant life simply trying to survive.

Needless to say I didn’t glow; I glowered.

In the last few months, though, as Phoenix’s approach became more real to me, I prepared by doing some paperwork and meeting with a case worker who didn’t tell me how hard it would be.

Becoming. What a powerful word. It is a word that in this written sense means a present tense. When you choose to place, you choose to become. You become a shadow in someone else’s life by choice, because of a sacrificial love that even you will be surprised and changed by.

Becoming a birth-first mom or dad is a sacrifice. Read the blogs of adoptive parents and you will see. Read the blogs on open adoption on this site and you will find sacrifice and love greater than you thought you may ever find, outside of Jesus Christ’s ever-abounding love and sacrifice for us. (Not trying to step on any “toes,” but I am a believer, so well, glean what you will from the blog as it aids you)

The sacrifice is worth the cost. In the middle of the night when you feel like you are going to lose your mind, when you can’t stop crying because it hurts so bad, it’s worth it. In the morning, even when sorrow lingers, you are stronger.

You may think you don’t have the capacity to go through with adoption as an option, but when you know, and I mean really know adoption is the choice for your child, you grow, and let me tell you–I have never met a birth-first parent who didn’t possess the strength of character that you earn with tears, fears, and mourning.

It is not something everyone can do, but to everyone who has gone through it, as hard as some days are, we are pretty awesome people. So don’t fret or worry. It will hurt but you will rise out of the ashes of your sorrow and find your way. It may take some time, but be patient with yourself.

Because that selfless love you have inside you for that life you want the best for is yours and you are worthy of that same love.

Be gentle and kind to yourself, wherever you are in the adoption triad.

Love,

Nellie J.

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Anyways, my head is all over the place today  but my heart is generally at peace, despite not having seen him this year. I am ok with that, and kinda grateful to have a year that hasn’t sent me into a complete depression.

That is not saying that i will not cry, or have a moment when 3:30pm rolls around, or doesn’t mean I won’t feel a little sad, because it is ok.

It is alright to grieve. It is ok to allow those feelings passage in my heart because they are part of my experience.

How do I honor the day that changed my world? How do I show how much it means to me?

There is this movie, “What Dreams May Come” with Robin Williams; the whole movie is steeped in death. Their kids die, he dies, she commits suicide..but before he dies, they have an anniversary of sorts to commemorate their loss.

I don’t want to go away, but I want to stay right here. Maybe I will buy myself something I don’t necessarily need or deserve.

I think I will do something though and whatever it is I will do it with the loving kindness and peace of mind I am currently in. There is no better place to be than home, no better place to understand then your heart.

Today my heart beats for Phoenix, and honors his life and what it has meant to me. To quote a friend, I would go to hell armed only with a squirt gun for him.

I think I understand now more then ever how much love can change a person’s life.

When I spoke with Tara the other day, we talked about his love of cookies, and how creative he is. She told me about his cake he will be getting today, which was a dragon cake by the way. I am so happy to be a part of their lives in a healthy relationship with them.

I love hearing about his spunk, his way of being. I love how perfect he fits into his family.

Love changes everything. Love makes a way when there was none. Love writes it’s own story when you think that you are done. Love makes possible what you didn’t think…

I love you Phoenix. Happy 3rd birthday to you!

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I am choosing to allow them to be expressed; allowing myself to feel what I traditionally hid from. It’s not that I didn’t deal with them, I just wasn’t willing to incorporate them into my life. Finding joy in the small things, like spending time with family and friends, is healing and therapeutic.

It’s funny how adoption changes things; how it makes simple things a touch more difficult. Yet when your family knows and understands, and loves you when you have nothing else to call yours, then you end up where I am and it is not so bad.

I have friends who understand and watch me go through the roller coaster of emotions around this time of year and family who understand when I need a safe haven to call home…

Sunday, my best friend came to church with me, and it was really awesome. She comes from a more traditional background, but despite that, we were able to connect once again and see one another. She gets it. She accepts it.

The blog I wrote previously around Thanksgiving, “That’s what best friends are for,” was about her. Friends and family are so important to have as support. If you don’t have family, then surround yourself with friends.

There is this quote by Edna Buchanan: “Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.”

I am taken back to days of coming home after school with my best friend to watch Sailor Moon movies and cartoons and I remember becoming more embraced by my Uncle and his Family, the Warners. I remember every Christmas and I remember the night after I came home from the hospital. Mom had to work that night so I was going to be alone. If I had been left alone, I don’t believe I would have made it through the night without doing something really stupid. I probably cried too loud.  I was so stuck in the midst of my grief then…

Through acts of the past, acts of kindness and compassion, family and friends have saved my life. In this, I have been able to help others, and to freely write about my experiences. I consider myself extremely blessed to have a family support like mine. My heart feels more whole than before.

Off to watch A Christmas Story with my family…

Be blessed wherever you are, and know you are loved.

Nellie J.

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I was thinking about Phoenix. I want to read him a story, hug him, know the joy of his smile beaming back at me. I want nothing more then a moment in time to say hello on this sorrowful Christmas.

I sometimes feel like my heart is missing, and it wanders away to darker places for me. Today is one of those.

He is going to wake up and have a Christmas with his family, and I will be here, thinking of him and that last Christmas, 5 days from delivery.

It was 2008 and I was 5 days from having him, and I saw my Dad at the Family Christmas and I told him, the man who had never been a real father to me, the person who had hurt me so much that I forgave him.

I remember the heaviness, the brokenness of that time, the utter loneliness. It is so raw to me right now,  real as it was three years ago. Yet healing began with that act of forgiveness, and started there in my life to really begin to make it possible to heal.

Today I have great friends and family who are supportive and understanding and I am grateful for them. I have so much to be thankful for, yet my heart is mourning another day lost in his life as nothing.

I don’t have a tree up or decorations up…it’s not practical and I am barely surviving in the situation I am in at the moment. If I did maybe it would feel sacred, maybe it would feel more then just a day of sorrow.

It’s 2:14 am right now, and maybe, just maybe I need to sleep and I will feel better in the morning but right now I could curl into a fetal position and cry.

I am really grateful that feelings and emotions are transitional, but also one of my beliefs is that emotions are there to teach us.

What does sorrow revisited have to teach me that I have not already grieved though?

This is what Holidays have become in many ways…I attempt to not deal with things by being busy. It’s the time of year for family, it’s time to exchange gifts and catch up on old times, and new experiences.

I think I am going to create a tradition. I am going to allow myself to mourn and be sad but I will be stronger because I will learn from it. I don’t want to be a victim of Christmas past, and want to look forward to the future where maybe I can put up Christmas stockings for each of my kids, and make them breakfast, open presents…

One day, maybe. If anything, I will allow myself to dream. Time does not heal all wounds, but it does make them a little easier to work through.

So with that thought in mind, and the Christmas spirit intact despite my heart’s heaviness, I want you, my faithful readers to be joyful today and everyday, here on.

Merry Christmas,

Nellie

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When I got pregnant with Phoenix, whom I placed for adoption, my oldest son named Kenny* was 7 years old. I didn’t think I could ever love anyone else more then him. I felt like the Grinch, and when I held my littlest son in my arms I knew my heart had tripled in size.

Being with my oldest today was really awesome and being able to just love on him and be there for him, no rush or worry about time, was awesome to say in the least.

Later that evening after having spent a full yet wonderful day with him I spent sometime with a friend from high school. We talked about a lot but we traversed into stuff about kids, of course. She knows my story, very well and has really been a great support. At one point I shared a dream of mine, that I wait for patiently.

While Phoenix grows and becomes who he is meant to be, I will watch my oldest grow and be involved in his life as much as I can, but in Phoenix’s I can’t. Sure, I’ll get pictures and we will talk and share stories as our children grow older and wiser. We will also have this one child that she knows and loves and is a parent to, a mother to whom I am only the person on the other end of the phone when we talk and I get to say hello.

I love the sound of his voice. It reminds me of my Kenny’s. I took so much for granted when he was 2, 3 years old. I took it all for granted. I can remember his small voice only because I hear Phoenix’s from time to time. Now Kenny has a boy’s voice with a hint of puberty at the brim.

Today I did not hold his hand for the first time in years. My baby is growing up. Knowing I’m a birth-mom to an almost 3 year old is heartbreaking because I am watching my tween grow into something I know nothing of. His gentle giant of a heart and stature remain a part of him, but the baby is leaving, and I don’t know if I can let go.

Phoenix is loved and nurtured, absolutely adored. He is surrounded by supportive and caring, protective family that will watch him grow and know what it feels like to hold his hands while they cross the street.

They will know the joy of his small boy voice, and his joyful heart and I’ll watch from a distance.

Maybe one day I will have a day with both my son’s. Until then I will strive for Joy, when there is sorrow and peace when it feels like a war with my heart and soul.

One day I can look Phoenix in the eyes and tell him I love him and maybe he will say he loves me too.

One day perhaps, 15 or 16 years from now, I will have a day with my sons.

I can’t wait for that day.

Happy Holidays to all my readers, whatever path you are on.

love,

Nellie

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