Two years. That's practically infancy in the world of blogging.
Two years ago I opened my heart to readers all over the world, and allowed you a glimpse into my life as an adoptive mom-to-be.
The year that has passed since my first anniversary has been just as exciting — full of change.
We sold our home (the only one K really felt was hers), and moved hours north to live near (and consequently, live with) family. She's in a new school, making new friends. adopting new hobbies, and reaching stability.
What I am most proud of this second year of blogging is how much more open I've been with you all.
And you never disappoint in terms of your page views, your comments, and the messages you all send me in private.
I'm always surprised when I look at the numbers.
The post that received the most attention this year was this one, which, if you missed it, really exposes the horrors that result when an adoption is "disrupted".
And I also bear my soul in this post, which was the second most popular post this second year of ImmediateMom.com.
I have an exciting way to celebrate this anniversary, which I will announce next week (and yes, it involves a great giveaway!)
Until then, I gladly celebrate this second year with you — and I celebrate with my daughter who has made this endeavor worth it.
There are thousands of children in the system right now, just like her, who desperately need an advocate, need a cheerleader, need guidance, and need love. There are thousands just like her who are giving up hope little by little each day. There are thousands who need a mom, need a dad, need parents to love them unconditionally.
My prayer is for this blog to serve as a real-life example of the blessings of older child adoption, showing anyone with a kind heart and a dedication to doing what's right can be exactly what a child needs.
I'm not perfect. And it shows in this blog, almost daily. K is not perfect, and that shows here too. And all imperfect people are welcome here anytime.
Thank you.
Blessings,
ImmediateMom
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Friday phone dump
Some pics I took on my phone while out and about...
1. How embarassing, I *almost* wore the exact same thing to Target, but my camo overalls were dirty.
2. Gorgeous pink sunsets in our new city
3. K and her cousins hanging out
4. Our sweet "space dog" showing off his cone of shame.
5. A beach serenade from my sweetie.
6. I know the "Miles to E" countdown allows for some wiggle room.
1. How embarassing, I *almost* wore the exact same thing to Target, but my camo overalls were dirty.
2. Gorgeous pink sunsets in our new city
3. K and her cousins hanging out
4. Our sweet "space dog" showing off his cone of shame.
5. A beach serenade from my sweetie.
6. I know the "Miles to E" countdown allows for some wiggle room.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Saturday Q&A with ImmediateMom - 2nd edition
I thought I'd make this a regular feature in the new year. So here's a few more questions I've received through emails and through my Facebook page:
How has K changed since you first met her?
Wow - how has she NOT changed - that would have been an easier question to answer. The first, and most obvious way, is physically. She's about to turn 13, so the sweet little 10-year-old girl we met is now in full-blown pre-teen mode... but besides that, she's so much more secure in herself, and secure in her place as our child. She's less apprehensive and more likely to voice her feelings. Which, as an almost-teen can sometimes be confusing, but I'd rather she voice what's going on inside than hold it all in (most days, ha!)
Does the state help you after the adoption has finalized?
Yes, we were able to continue with the state-provided counseling to really sure up our family foundations and learn to relate to each other even after the documents were officially signed. It was an important step for us to continue with the routine of weekly counseling, as well as continue to receive the advice of an experienced professional as we adjusted.
Would you adopt again?
That is the hardest question to answer because really it's a surprise that we adopted in the first place. I know we shocked our family and friends with our decision. Honestly, we felt chosen and called to adopt and older child. And, more specifically, we felt called and chosen to adopt K. So, as of right now, I would say we don't feel the calling to pursue another child through adoption. But, as is the life of faith, that calling could come further down the road and we'd answer again as we did the first time because life inside the will of God is blessed.
So, what are you wondering about these days? Can I help answer any of your adoption questions? Leave a question in the comments or email me at immediatemom at gmail dot com.
Thanks for your readership!
How has K changed since you first met her?
Wow - how has she NOT changed - that would have been an easier question to answer. The first, and most obvious way, is physically. She's about to turn 13, so the sweet little 10-year-old girl we met is now in full-blown pre-teen mode... but besides that, she's so much more secure in herself, and secure in her place as our child. She's less apprehensive and more likely to voice her feelings. Which, as an almost-teen can sometimes be confusing, but I'd rather she voice what's going on inside than hold it all in (most days, ha!)
Does the state help you after the adoption has finalized?
Yes, we were able to continue with the state-provided counseling to really sure up our family foundations and learn to relate to each other even after the documents were officially signed. It was an important step for us to continue with the routine of weekly counseling, as well as continue to receive the advice of an experienced professional as we adjusted.
Would you adopt again?
That is the hardest question to answer because really it's a surprise that we adopted in the first place. I know we shocked our family and friends with our decision. Honestly, we felt chosen and called to adopt and older child. And, more specifically, we felt called and chosen to adopt K. So, as of right now, I would say we don't feel the calling to pursue another child through adoption. But, as is the life of faith, that calling could come further down the road and we'd answer again as we did the first time because life inside the will of God is blessed.
So, what are you wondering about these days? Can I help answer any of your adoption questions? Leave a question in the comments or email me at immediatemom at gmail dot com.
Thanks for your readership!
Friday, January 20, 2012
I get angry sometimes
I get angry sometimes.
I get angry when I think about the things people said about my daughter - the labels they put on her and the things they said she'd never achieve.
I get angry when I think about the things people said about my daughter - the labels they put on her and the things they said she'd never achieve.
I get angry on her behalf - because, she doesn't know the great limits they tried to place on her.
She doesn't know what they said about her "low I.Q."
She doesn't know how they tried to discourage us from persuing her.
She doesn't know how hard we had to fight to even be considered as possible parents for her.
She doesn't know how they labeled her as unable to bond, unable to focus, unable to show love, unable to control herself.
I get angry sometimes, when I see all she's doing now, and I think of how she almost missed out on these opportunities.
Opportunities to thrive academically, socially, with a family who invests in her daily, who love her to the ends of the earth, who would do whatever it takes to see her succeed.
I get angry sometimes.
But I don't stay that way.
How could I?
Not when I see who she is becoming because of the anger that burned in us, to prove them all wrong.
Secretly, I think she was angry too.
And I think her anger gave her the "I'll show you" attitude she displays.
Anger is a powerful motivating force.
I feel it when I read the documents detailing her life in foster care. I feel it when I think of how the cards were stacked against her since birth. I feel it when Ihit dead ends trying to put together pieces of her past.
I get angry sometimes.
But I don't stay that way.
How could I?
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Saturday Q&A with ImmediateMom
By far, the question I receive most about our older-child adoption experience is, "Is she bonded to you as her mother?"
I love this question.
And when I tell people I love the question I think they're surprised. Maybe because they feared asking it in the first place? Maybe they worried I would be offended?
Quite the contrary.
It's the question at the heart of every adoption - can a child who did not start its life as part of your family become truly yours.
There are so many stories publicized about failed adoptions.
Ours is not, and will not be, one of those stories.
I like to tell how I first knew in my heart K would be our daughter. On our first visit, as our encounter was ending she ran over to me, ran her fingers through my hair and told me I had pretty hair. I was so touched.
Something in my soul knew she would be ours.
We started simple.
Our daughter, a ten-year-old when we met, did not know how to ride a bike without training wheels. To be the ones to teach her that was going to be a priceless memory for us all.
I love this question.
And when I tell people I love the question I think they're surprised. Maybe because they feared asking it in the first place? Maybe they worried I would be offended?
Quite the contrary.
It's the question at the heart of every adoption - can a child who did not start its life as part of your family become truly yours.
There are so many stories publicized about failed adoptions.
Ours is not, and will not be, one of those stories.
I like to tell how I first knew in my heart K would be our daughter. On our first visit, as our encounter was ending she ran over to me, ran her fingers through my hair and told me I had pretty hair. I was so touched.
Something in my soul knew she would be ours.
(Meeting Day 2009)
But I didn't know her yet. I didn't love her yet.
There was no bond yet.
To share a bond with someone — anyone — you have to share experiences.
Biological children get this naturally because they share life experiences before they even enter the outside world. It's the only pattern they know.
With an adopted child, you start small. Create memorable experiences each time you're together. Once an adopted child moves in, each day becomes a chance to start routines, establish things you do together, and do activities not done with previous families.
Our daughter, a ten-year-old when we met, did not know how to ride a bike without training wheels. To be the ones to teach her that was going to be a priceless memory for us all.
Each day we build on the day before.
We're just now — more than two years after meeting and being chosen for each other — finally seeing a switch in our daughters mind to talking about her memories with us more frequently than old memories with other families.
It's not easy, and it's an activity in which we've had to invest countless hours. The time we've spent reassuring K that she's ours pays off daily.
The biggest compliments we get now are from strangers we interact with when they are stunned to hear our family's adoption story. Not because we look alike, or act alike... but because they see the genuine bond we share and the love that is shared. They assume is a biological bond.
In our case, it's so much more than biology that bonds us. Bond is an action word.
And so is love.
Friday, January 13, 2012
That moment when you realize you've got it easy
I blog hop a lot. With the holidays, and some mental health days thrown in, I've missed quite a bit in the lives of some bloggers I follow.
Sick children. Challenging overseas adoption stories. A woman facing another separation from her husband. The immeasurable hurt of a miscarriage.
Tough, tough stuff.
I'm humbled.
God showed us such favor in 2011.
Even before we had clarity of purpose, we knew our home needed to be listed and prepared for a short sale. Ultimately, my husband received the transfer we prayed for, and our home sold and closed six months later.
Even before we had the certainty of our move, we secured admittance into a private Christian school for K through a scholarship that amazingly covers her entire costs to attend. And she is thriving!
Our belongings are housed in a 15' x 30' storage unit as we continue to rebound from the short sale and prepare for whatever home the Lord has for us in the near future.
We live in a home full of love and family, and the experience of sharing our lives with others daily is exactly why we prayed to be in this area of the state in the first place.
It's so easy to be self-focused, to see the challenges and the day-to-day laundry lists that never seem to shrink. It's easy to look in the mirror and wish for a few less pounds and inches, or to fill our minds with unproductive thoughts.
But then there's that moment when you realize you've got it easy.
My daughter has had little more than a basic cold in the last year.
Our adoption is complete and sealed and never going to be tested or questioned.
My husband is not being deployed to dark places around the globe.
We have been blessed. We are blessed. We pray for continued blessings. And we live in the knowledge of our good fortune.
It's humbling. I pray, as a family, that we keep our perspective and not forget that moment when you realize you've got it pretty easy.
Sick children. Challenging overseas adoption stories. A woman facing another separation from her husband. The immeasurable hurt of a miscarriage.
Tough, tough stuff.
I'm humbled.
God showed us such favor in 2011.
Even before we had clarity of purpose, we knew our home needed to be listed and prepared for a short sale. Ultimately, my husband received the transfer we prayed for, and our home sold and closed six months later.
Even before we had the certainty of our move, we secured admittance into a private Christian school for K through a scholarship that amazingly covers her entire costs to attend. And she is thriving!
Our belongings are housed in a 15' x 30' storage unit as we continue to rebound from the short sale and prepare for whatever home the Lord has for us in the near future.
We live in a home full of love and family, and the experience of sharing our lives with others daily is exactly why we prayed to be in this area of the state in the first place.
It's so easy to be self-focused, to see the challenges and the day-to-day laundry lists that never seem to shrink. It's easy to look in the mirror and wish for a few less pounds and inches, or to fill our minds with unproductive thoughts.
But then there's that moment when you realize you've got it easy.
My daughter has had little more than a basic cold in the last year.
Our adoption is complete and sealed and never going to be tested or questioned.
My husband is not being deployed to dark places around the globe.
We have been blessed. We are blessed. We pray for continued blessings. And we live in the knowledge of our good fortune.
It's humbling. I pray, as a family, that we keep our perspective and not forget that moment when you realize you've got it pretty easy.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
The things I should know
It was her classmate's birthday yesterday. She couldn't wait to get to school and sing Happy Birthday to her pal.
I walked her in and spent some time talking with a few other moms.
As the bell rang, kids grabbed backpacks and started to shuffle off to class.
But not my daughter.
K comes literally running over, and in a hurried, breathless fashion she asks a simple question.
Mom, what time was I born?
Wow.
I have no idea.
I have no idea?
I should know. I should know? I should know!
Why don't I know?
It's such a basic knowledge item. What day were you born? What time? How much did you weigh?
In all our paperwork there is absolutely no mention of the time of day when our sweet girl entered the world.
I know how much she weighed. I know the hospital that became her home for almost three months until she was healthy enough to go home. But I don't know what time she was born?
Now, I want to know as badly as she does.
Honestly, she's probably forgotten she even asked the question. But now it irks me to not have a clue the exact time she breethed her first little breath.
As her birthday approacheds (the big entrance to the teen years, gulp!) I want to know as much as I can about the day when my little one-pound baby entered the world a whopping 12 weeks early.
I owe it to her. I owe it to us.
I walked her in and spent some time talking with a few other moms.
As the bell rang, kids grabbed backpacks and started to shuffle off to class.
But not my daughter.
K comes literally running over, and in a hurried, breathless fashion she asks a simple question.
Mom, what time was I born?
Wow.
I have no idea.
I have no idea?
I should know. I should know? I should know!
Why don't I know?
It's such a basic knowledge item. What day were you born? What time? How much did you weigh?
In all our paperwork there is absolutely no mention of the time of day when our sweet girl entered the world.
I know how much she weighed. I know the hospital that became her home for almost three months until she was healthy enough to go home. But I don't know what time she was born?
Now, I want to know as badly as she does.
Honestly, she's probably forgotten she even asked the question. But now it irks me to not have a clue the exact time she breethed her first little breath.
As her birthday approacheds (the big entrance to the teen years, gulp!) I want to know as much as I can about the day when my little one-pound baby entered the world a whopping 12 weeks early.
I owe it to her. I owe it to us.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Waiting for an important word
Each year I pray for a word from God to provide inspiration or direction for the 365 days ahead. And each year I've received that directive loud and clear.
Previous words of the year have included contentment (2009 battling childlessness), joy (the year I became a mother), determination (last year as we faced big parenting decisions and a challenging move).
Good stuff, right?
No such luck for 2012.
Instead I've received what I thought could be "the word" and then, as quickly as it popped into my head and my heart, *poof* it vanished, only to be replaced by something even more confusing.
I started to think it was me - maybe I'm not in touch with the Holy Spirit enough to be hearing from God? Is my mind too cluttered with the past year, or plans for the year to come?
The answer to both of those questions was a resounding, Yes.
And then it hit me...
Not the word (I wish) ...
I realized I put too much emphasis on the word being my marching order for the year.
I needed to relax, release the responsibility, and stop trying to come up with the word on my own.
Wasn't that why I prayed for God to provide the word in the first place?
So, I know you came here expecting to read an inspiring "rah-rah-rah" pep rally message ending with the grand unveiling of my 2012 word - but I'm not there, yet.
I have in my heart what I expect will be the inspiration for my year. I'm praying for clarification on the exact angle I should take (words are cool like that... I'm kind of a weird word nerd and love to look up origins, additional meanings, and the thesaurus is my buddy.)
I'm a tease, I know. But I promise when I'm ready to share the big BIG deal it will be worth it.
Previous words of the year have included contentment (2009 battling childlessness), joy (the year I became a mother), determination (last year as we faced big parenting decisions and a challenging move).
Good stuff, right?
No such luck for 2012.
Instead I've received what I thought could be "the word" and then, as quickly as it popped into my head and my heart, *poof* it vanished, only to be replaced by something even more confusing.
I started to think it was me - maybe I'm not in touch with the Holy Spirit enough to be hearing from God? Is my mind too cluttered with the past year, or plans for the year to come?
The answer to both of those questions was a resounding, Yes.
And then it hit me...
Not the word (I wish) ...
I realized I put too much emphasis on the word being my marching order for the year.
I needed to relax, release the responsibility, and stop trying to come up with the word on my own.
Wasn't that why I prayed for God to provide the word in the first place?
So, I know you came here expecting to read an inspiring "rah-rah-rah" pep rally message ending with the grand unveiling of my 2012 word - but I'm not there, yet.
I have in my heart what I expect will be the inspiration for my year. I'm praying for clarification on the exact angle I should take (words are cool like that... I'm kind of a weird word nerd and love to look up origins, additional meanings, and the thesaurus is my buddy.)
I'm a tease, I know. But I promise when I'm ready to share the big BIG deal it will be worth it.
2012 is going to be special, and my message will be worth the wait ... for us all.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Her first big fall
Learning to be a parent sadly must include that moment when you sit by and watch your child take risks. The last few days my daughter has risked A LOT... and today the first big fall happened, in front of my eyes.
I was powerless to stop it.
It happened in slow motion.
I couldn't get to her quickly enough.
And yet I knew I couldn't and shouldn't rush to her side either.
She had to learn, part of life is the big falls. And the other part is the getting back up.
I was powerless to stop it.
It happened in slow motion.
I couldn't get to her quickly enough.
And yet I knew I couldn't and shouldn't rush to her side either.
She had to learn, part of life is the big falls. And the other part is the getting back up.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Happy New Year from Horse Country
Greetings from the land where Christmas continues ... where gifts amuse us ... where horses are learning to contain their energy enough to let people ride ... where dogs share sticks ... and fluffy pink saddle pads and beautiful white saddles dress up an already beautiful horse.
Happy New Year!!!
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