Ode To Stay-At-Home Daddies

     My husband, Pat, is the recipient of the blessed curse known as being a stay-at-home Daddy. To clarify, I say "blessed curse" because his daily tasks are equal parts a blessing and a curse. When the children are playing nicely together and he's able to achieve at least 3 out of 100 things on his to-do list, this is a blessing (believe it or not, 3 out of 100 is darn right miraculous at this point!). And when the children are stabbing each other with sticks and screaming at the tops of their lungs, this is a curse. This "blessed curse", however, works in the opposite direction for me, making it my "cursed blessing". For example, when my husband gets things done on his to-do list and then I come home from work and immediately have to take over with the kids (because his frazzled and harried expression means only one thing.... someone is going to literally die if he does not get some relief and alone time), causing me to get nothing done on MY to-do list, this is a curse. And when I'm getting ready for work and the kids have already started the next World War (complete with cardboard nukes and hanger machine guns), I get to leave them and go to work with severely mentally ill people, which is my blessing (yes, it's true that dealing with other people's "crazy" is just so much simpler than dealing with your own house of mixed nuts.)

     Throughout the last year and a half, I've struggled with jealousy and a bit of bitterness towards my husband. How is it fair that he gets to work from home while I have to go to work all day? Why should it be him getting to be the Mommy, holding the baby all day long, going on field trips with the kids and enjoying outings at the park? Why does he get to bond with our children while I feel like a stranger to them half the time? Why why why?!?! Poor, poor me!!!

     These are thoughts that I held inside for a time, before exploding them all over my husband in one big, nasty, emotional outburst (because, yes, I have tantrums). He listened to me whine and cry and then whine some more. He offered support and comfort. He did everything a dutiful husband should do... and then he gave me a little perspective into this fairy tale motherhood that I had devised in my head.... he talked about how he never gets to talk to other adults, how he's exhausted all the time, how he feels like he's drowning in a never-ending cycle of washing bottles and doing laundry and breaking up fights. After listening to each other (and actually listening, not getting into that "my day was worse than your day" mode that we as adults are really good at, despite it being a child's sport), we decided that life would be perfect if only we could go one week on and one week off, trading each other's schedules each week. I would stay home for a week and he could go to work, then we would trade. It would be the best of both worlds and solve all of our problems (minus World War III).

     We smiled for a moment as we thought about how grand our scheme was before reality reminded us that we are stuck with the roles that we have, for better or for worse (hmmmm, I remember hearing those words somewhere...) and that we needed to support and appreciate each other's roles more. Such a simple idea, you'd think the therapist of the family could've come up with it long ago, but sadly, my brain turns to mush the second I walk through my front door.... I'm just one big, mushy Mommy for the rest of the evening.

     So, I came home from work and grocery shopping, had a thousand bags to put away and dinner to get on the table. Cameron was already in his room for being a dork, and my husband gave me "the look". It was time. He needed to get away. He informed me that he had things to do in town, he'd be gone for a few hours, and that he would like to take a nap when he returned. "Sure!" I said, with great enthusiasm. I was feeling confident that my Mommy skills would take over and my mushiness would be at a minimum for at least a few hours..... as long as I had a plan:

Step 1) Make dinner. 

Step 2) Eat said dinner. 

Step 3) Feed baby while the older two get ready for bed. 

Step 4) Play board games with the kids. 

Step 5) Give the kids their vitamins and snack while they watch an educational t.v. show.

Step 6) Tuck kids into bed and help baby get to sleep.

     Ten minutes into my "plan" I had already broken up two battles between Cameron and Taylor and the baby had puked on me. But, I was still holding onto my dignity.... afterall, these are the moments I just said that I was jealous of my husband for experiencing all day, so I need to rise to the occasion! A half hour later, Taylor was in tears, Cameron was in time out, and the baby had puked down my shirt for the second time, creating a pool of milky vomit in my sports bra. Awesome. At the passing of an hour, we had finally finished playing two board games (which, by the way is virtually impossible.... trying not to "Spill The Beans" while holding a 7-month old has to have it's own circle in Hell), Taylor was yelling at Cameron for doing anything (including BREATHING TOO LOUDLY), Cameron was intentionally breathing, and the baby was screaming each time I wasn't giving him my undivided attention, all while my phone is ringing and the dogs are barking at the neighbor dog with ferociousness (very loud ferociousness). Hour two was basically the same, with Taylor saying my name repeatedly as the baby is screaming and flailing, knocking my phone off the couch and sending the pieces flying in all directions, and Cameron informing me incessantly that he can see my bra.... BECAUSE THE BABY IS PULLING ON MY SHIRT!! OH MY GOSH, WHEN WILL PAT BE HOME!?!?!?

     Thankful for Melatonin and it's ability to render my children unconscious, peace finally came. Isaac still fussed, but was able to receive more attention with the other two in a partial coma, so his squawking took on a much happier tone. And then I heard my husband's car pull in.... and I waited with baited breath as he entered the house. All I could muster was an expression that said, Help.... Me.....!! It was in that moment that I realized that our blessed curses and cursed blessings are best resolved when we have each other. We were not meant to walk this road alone and we certainly weren't meant to walk it bashing our most precious supports over the head for not getting the dishwasher started or for getting the wrong type of bread from the grocery store. He may get to be there for the fun outings and the baby's first steps, but I get to save their lives when he tries to kill them at everyday at 4:30.... so, all in all, we both win.

     To all of you stay-at-home Daddies out there, a big hearty "Thank you" and "'Attaboy!" goes out to you. Your job is tough and often thankless. There are social stigmas, male ego issues, and "woman's work" that you face on a daily basis (to this day, my husband can still fold an amazing fitted sheet, whereas I lose my mind and end up throwing the sheet across the room 2 minutes into the process). And to my husband, Pat.... I love you for what you do. I appreciate your efforts, your time, and your sanity despite it all. I think God knew which one of us could cope with Them better all day, and it's you, hands down. I may still load the dishwasher better, but you soar at being the parent that I'm trying to be to our kids. Happy Father's Day, Baby.

Judgments Away

     There's a slightly judgmental side to me that I try to keep hidden (if you've made it to my family and friends plan, you probably already know this).  And I think that each of us has this tendency, at least every now and again, to look at other people's circumstances and think to ourselves, "If I were in that situation, this is what I would do instead...", or (more bluntly put) "What the HECK are they THINKING!"  Before children (from here on noted as B.C.), I would look at other mothers and judge, ever so politely, knowing that I would certainly do things differently (AKA perfectly??)....

     B.C., when a child would spill a glass of milk, I would imagine myself saying something like this: "Oh, Darling, it's alright. Accidents happen.... here, let me help you clean that up. Would you like another drink?"

     In reality, I fear that my reaction is a little more like this: "SERIOUSLY? How many TIMES have I told you not to set your drink that close to the edge of the table! No NO NO, STOP licking it off the floor! And don't you even think of asking for another drink until you're 40!"

     B.C., when I saw parents letting their children run amok through a church, I thought that I'd never have children that were anything but perfectly behaved, exhibiting superior self-discipline as they played tic-tac-toe quietly in the pew, sharing coloring books and getting along splendidly.

     And now? Now, I'm the one with the children that scream each other's names at blood-curdling levels in the middle of worship as they share, not crayons, but pinches and right hooks. The only people being moved to tears in the service are my children.... after they've been sufficiently threatened to straighten up or they'll get an extra long dunking in the baptismal.

     I feel ashamed to admit it, but I did judge other mothers out there from time to time.... and a particularly large judgement occurred when I was told by other mothers, "You just wait until you have kids... then your sex life will go out the window!" Thinking to myself I would say, Really? Who can't commit to at least three times a week? The kids go to bed by 8 pm, you do a few dishes, and then you sit down with your hubby for a little cuddle and B.C. time.... you're in bed by 10 and feeling fantastic for work the next day! And it's now that I realize that there are many, many more factors that come into play!

     First of all, we have to take into account that the couple actually liked each other B.C. Therefore, having sex was an activity that was at the top of the Needs list. But once children suck the life out of both of you as you argue over whose day was harder, who left the fridge open, and who has to do those dang dishes, there is a definite possibility that sex gets moved down the Needs list!! (Probably just below "OBGYN visit" and just above "have a lobotomy".)

     Secondly, once those chores are completely done, you're looking at closer to midnight, am I right? And midnight sex in your 20's is one thing.... but midnight sex in your 30's is like trying to make love while moving through tar.... the effort needed to make the simplest body movements is just sometimes not worth the exhaustion of it all! (And frankly, we aren't as fit as we once were.... no one wants to deal with a sweaty, asthma-inducing, back and knee aching activity that late at night! If there's not time to stretch before or clean up after, don't even go there.)

    And finally, even though you realize you love each other, oh so much, there's always that tense wonderment of will they hear us??? Because you know that as soon as the first kiss is launched, naturally there will be a knock at the door asking for a drink of water, complaining of a tummy ache, or scared because they "heard a noise". (OF COURSE you heard a noise! Mommy's back went out again and Daddy needs an inhaler.... why is Daddy's face red, you ask? Because his blood pressure medicine isn't strong enough for sex now that he's a PARENT!)

     Against all odds, my hubby and I were finally able to muster up the love, energy, and courage needed to produce our monthly hanky-panky (yes, monthly.... and we're pretty sure we missed last month's session, so judge away, you perfect Mommies, but this Mama now understands the difference between B.C. and REALITY!). We were actually both in the mood (at the same time!), the kids were sound asleep, and the baby had just finished his last bottle. The table was set and we were prepared to feast!

     (Fast forward an amount of time that I promised my husband I would never share....) After all was said and done, feeling wonderfully blissful and cozy, I rolled over and sighed with contentment. It was then that my husband choked a laugh and asked me, "Um, honey? Did you know that you have a binky stuck to your back?"

     "What?? No I don't.... really?"

     "Yeah, it's actually stuck to your back.... you must've been laying on it toward the end there...."

      The craziest part is that I didn't even feel it! You KNOW you're a mother when you have sex and end up with a binky stuck to your body like a star fish.

     So, I've decided that judging other parents is an issue of the past. Afterall, I'm the one having monthly sex on my son's pacifiers. Besides, parenting is not about perfection. It's going to look different for every family, in every situation. My judgments are about as useful as tits on a boar hog, as my mother-in-law would say, so I might as well ditch my B.C. ideals and run wildly into the arms of chaos, fully embracing my perfectly flawed family. (And I'll be checking the bedding before next month, just to prevent future mishaps....)

Kodak Moments

     Sometimes it seems that my life consists of one major life event followed by another. Court hearings, adoption meetings, wedding planning with a friend, church duties, gymnastics recitals, doctor's appointments, birthday parties... I spend so much time thinking of "the next thing" that I neglect to take in the daily breaths that I need, recognize the everyday events that take place, and celebrate the momentous occasions that I should have the camera ready for. Sadly, I am usually without my camera. And I'm often too busy to notice a Kodak moment when I see one. This became dreadfully apparent when I began making scrapbooks for the kids and I realized that I had not been the photographer of more than a  handful of those pictures.... nor was I in many of them. What the crap, I thought! Someone else is living my life while I'm busy.... living my life! 

     I'll admit, I was a wee bit salty at this realization. Sure, I'm there for the major events... I take off work for most court hearings, and I was there cheering like a lunatic for at least half of Cameron's soccer games, and applauding with gusto at both of Taylor's recitals. But what about the mornings (most mornings) I neglect Tay's hair for school because I'm running late for work, or the Family Fun days she has in her classroom each month where all the other mothers come in for a mini party? And what about Cam's field trips that I specifically joined the PTO so I could attend (PS, I only made it to one PTO meeting... but let's be honest, those things are a drag anyways)? Ashamed of my inability to be super-woman, I decided that my life simply doesn't allow for me to partake in every event, so I need to find a way to capture these moments using creativity (ooooo, the C word). So, in honor of photo companies everywhere, I want to use this post to take a moment and log mental snapshots of the past week. The winner of this week's photo shoot is none other than my very own Baby Isaac.

     Before getting into the mundane, I do want to acknowledge a major life event for us regarding the Little Fella. We had a court hearing last week in which the judge (in all his wisdom and loveliness) granted us a goal change of adoption! This means that our adoption workers will begin filing papers to terminate parental rights and granting us the ability to adopt Isaac after termination occurs. Being one step closer to keeping our baby feels equal parts like an elephant sitting on my chest and being as free as a bird to fly. But I will NOT let myself dwell on all of the "what ifs" that travel through the round-a-bout that is now my mind.

     Onward.... life event #1) Isaac got his first tooth! I'll be darned if the kid will let me get a picture of it (the one time I have my camera, too!), but I can assure you, it's in there! Smack dab in the bottom front of his mouth has emerged a little hippo tooth... his drooly grin flashing its cuteness during every moment except for when I pick up my camera to grab a shot. So for now, I take a mental picture. (Click.)

     Life event #2) Isaac had his first topple off of the bed. This was completely my fault... and I am so grateful that my husband and baby both seem to have forgiven me for my awfulness. The scenario was this: he was almost sleeping on my king-size bed. My husband called me down to give him a hand with the plumbing real quick. I surrounded him with pillows on the one side and the dogs surrounded him on the other. Three minutes later, I heard a thump. I didn't hear a cry, but I knew. I ran through the house like a crazy person and my heart literally stopped when I reached my bedroom door and my baby was no longer where I'd left him. I ran to the other side (the side the dogs HAD been guarding) and saw Isaac lying on his belly, crying a terrified cry. I scooped him up and did my best to soothe him before I had to relinquish him to Daddy, who had more right to comfort him, since he didn't let him fall off the bed. And let me tell you, that was a hard moment, right there. I hurt my baby and therefore lost the right to comfort him. Let's just say that I will be building a brick wall on the perimeter of my bed before I leave Mr. Rolly alone again! Lesson learned. (Click.)

     Life event #3) Isaac has slept through the night for an entire week! And the people say Amen while the angels sing Hallelujah! (CLICK!!!!)

     Life event #4) Baby Boy has found his penis. (Disclaimer: this is NOT something I am trying to take a picture of.... just an everyday moment I'm noting, since it seems to be sooo very exciting to him!) I don't know if it's every little guy or just ours, but he seems to find his Winky just about every time we take his diaper off (and sometimes he goes on the hunt even while fully clothed...he's turning into quite the exhibitionist, I tell you).... but it's not just that he grabs himself, it's that he makes this weird monkey face and grunts while he does it. Never having had a baby boy before (nor a penis) I'm not sure if this is unusual or par for the course. Either way, it seems to be the highlight of Bear's life, so I take a MENTAL picture. (Click.)

     So maybe you're all thinking, sure, take time to note the cute baby's life events while your other two red-headed-step-children get neglected. And by all means, if you feel the urge, come on out to my house and take pictures of Taylor as she picks her nose for the 30th time that day, and honor the greatness that is Cameron forgetting to change his underwear....for a week. I won't stop you! As for me, I will be busy building brick walls on my bed and taping the baby's diaper on so he can't grab his junk in public.... but maybe next week.

Proud of Idiots

     In every parent's life, there are moments of such pride that you have in your children. Most of the time you feel like you're walking around banging your head off of walls, and then you turn around and your child does or says something that makes you say, "Wow.... that's my kid!" Cameron's day in court was one of those days. His decision to come to my grandmother's funeral instead of his best friend's birthday party was another..... and then he pees his bed and tries to blame it on his sister. In a haze, I find myself rushing to the phone to call Children's Hospital, because only someone in need of a cat-scan would pull such an idiotic stunt.
     Taylor... my dear, sweet, child. She is so full of hugs and kisses, "I love yous" and compliments, even right after getting in trouble. I say to myself, this child is such an example of God's love. And then she gets into my make-up, whitening mouth wash, and expensive face lotion 5 times in one week with no fear of consequence or wrath (and trust me.... there was wrath) and I instinctively enter Children's Hospital's phone number into my speed dial because, low and behold, we need to order the "Family Cat-Scan" package!
     I admit, I often sound fickle in my love for my children. Don't be fooled, I truly love them to pieces (and someday the detectives may find their pieces buried somewhere in our lower field).... but the amount of CRAZY I feel on a daily basis because of these little people is utterly astonishing! I'm proud when they finally flush the toilet... five minutes later I'm screaming at Cameron to stop trying to create a pulley system with the dog leashes to "assist" his sister in the fine art of tree climbing. I'm moved to tears when they tell me I'm the best mom they've ever had.... later that night I find myself weeping over the smeared poop on my sock that was "cleaned up" in the bathroom following an "unexpected" emergency. One night I can't wait to tuck them in, say their prayers, and give them their cuddle times... the following night I can be heard throughout our neighborhood threatening the lives of the next child that calls my name from their bedrooms as I try to finish the dishes.
     Isaac hasn't become an idiot yet.... so he just rolls around like a ball from one side of the room to the other, yelling at the dogs with furrowed brows trying to get their attention, and attempting to figure out if his mouth likes his fingers or his toes better. I'm sure that there will be a day when he turns against me and my sanity, deciding to create an emotional disaster out of me... but until then, we're putting him in charge of the other two. I'll keep you posted on how the trip to Children's goes.

Courage

     When you're 7-years-old, the world is an exciting new adventure just waiting to be explored. When you're 7-years-old and you've been severely beaten by someone that was supposed to take care of you, the world can be extremely dark and terrifying. You learn to be distrustful, defensive, and fearful of everyone and everything around you. Hurt or be hurt. Hate or be hated. Be feared or fear others. Yesterday, my 7-year-old stopped being the fearful boy that he was only a year ago. Yesterday, he took a huge step of courage that made this Mama incredibly proud.
     It took a lot of preparation, leading up to the preliminary hearing regarding the abuse charges against Cameron's biological dad. He met with the District Attorney multiple times at the courthouse to review his testimony, he met with his therapist and was able to get the recommendation for his testimony to be used via video camera, and he endured emotional breakdowns as he was quizzed incessantly about details that he has tried for over a year to forget. The process was exhausting and heartbreaking. Finally, the day of the hearing came. We woke up yesterday morning and Cameron got dressed in his Easter shirt and tie. Even his dress socks made a special appearance for the occasion. Once again, our little Man needed reassurance that no matter what happened at this hearing, he would never return to his first father, which is a belief that continues to pop up in his mind to this day. Together, we said a prayer for courage and asked Jesus to accompany us into the courthouse. Cam was thoroughly excited that God took out time to come with him (he even offered Taylor's booster seat for the Lord to sit in on the drive down).
     In true legal fashion, we arrived on time... and then we waited. We waited for a while longer, and then we waited some more. Finally, the DA announced to us and that the accused would not be accepting a plea bargain. Our options were as follows: 1) Back out of the abuse charges and allow this man to pay a small fine and then be off scott free.... no jail, no probation, no charges on his record or 2) have Cameron go forward with his testimony today via video camera and then confront his father face to face at a trial later this summer, a process that they assured us would take months to resolve.
     The social worker in me and the new Mommy in me started to fight. Of COURSE we are going forward, are you kidding me?? Think about Cameron, Shivonne... can he really handle facing his dad and enduring this process for months? But this man has already hurt several other children and gotten away with it... he's just going to continue to hurt others with nothing more than a FINE?! But what if Cameron gets nervous and can't remember the details needed to put him away... then he's off anyways and we've put our son through this heartache for nothing? But...
     As you can imagine, the argument continued... all the while, the DA, CYS workers, arresting officer, and my husband stared at me. I felt like everyone thought that I was cruel for even considering putting my baby through this ordeal. Feeling like an awful mother, I made the suggestion that we should ask Cameron what he thought about it(because leaving the decision up to the traumatized 7-year-old is the answer, obviously). But what I really wanted to do was to inform him of the decision at hand, without going fully into the details. He is the one having to go through this ordeal, afterall.
     I spent some time explaining to Cameron that we had two choices. On one hand, we could be done today... no testifying, no judge, no more coming to the courthouse ever again. His biological dad would move far away and we would never see him again. The other choice was that we would talk to the judge today, and then we would probably have to talk to the judge again, but in the same room as his abuser at the next hearing, and he would have to tell his story many more times. I told him that I am soooo proud of him right now, and nothing was going to change that, but that I wanted to include him in the decision.
     "Would he go to jail if I was done today?" Cam asked me.
      "No, buddy, but he would go back to his new home in a state very far away from here, so you still wouldn't see him ever again."
     "Would he hurt anyone else?"
     "I don't know, bud."
     He thought for a second.
     "I feel really brave today, Mom. I think we should go for it."
     I don't know if it's possible for a heart to smile, but mine must have looked like the Grinch when he finally embraced Christmas. I asked him several more times, and each time, he informed me that he could do this... he could talk to the judge, even if his first dad was in the room. He reminded me that God made him brave in the car. Fighting social injustice.... who said you need DNA to have your kids take after you?
     And wouldn't you know it, that boy of mine walked right into that courtroom with confidence and courage. He answered numerous questions and he did it clearly, calmly, and with a grace that I've never seen my impulsive child possess! When the opposing lawyer tried to trick him up, Cameron said, "I can't lie, right? Then my answer is still 'I don't remember'." I literally laughed out loud, because that's what we practiced over and over was telling the truth, not trying to make up an answer you don't recall simply because of pressure from the questioners.
     Our next appearance at the courthouse isn't until July.... a lot could happen between now and then. Cameron may wake up tomorrow morning and feel scared or unwilling to go further. And I will hug him, tell him I'm proud of him, and call the DA immediately to back out. Because my kid did much more than testify yesterday. He was the 7-year-old severely abused child that turned his back on distrust, defensiveness, and fear. And I have a feeling that, for him, exciting new adventures lie just around the corner.

Mother's Day Lessons

     On Sunday I had the privilege of celebrating my first "official" Mother's Day. Last year was such a chaotic time (and now things are.... calm?). Cameron and Taylor had been placed with us for foster care a mere 6 weeks at that point and Mother's Day was a bit of a touchy holiday for them. My gifts last year included a lovely plant, a card, screaming, hitting, and fecal smearing.... and that was just before church. I told them that this year I'll be happy with just the card, thank you very much! And cards I got. By the truck load. Store-bought, hand-made, and last-minute cards cluttered my bed as the kids bounced into my room with their goodies. Cameron and Taylor graciously shared my chocolate gifts with one another as my chubby Isaac looked hungrily at the bouquet of flowers my husband bought.
     So, in honor of Mother's Day (although a bit belated), I decided to spend some time reminiscing about lessons that I've learned throughout the past year. Hopefully, other Mommies out there can relate!

     1) It's OK to go to work with questionable goo on your shirt, as long as lick your finger and dab at it with mild effort for at least 3 seconds.
     2) It IS possible to never have uninterrupted time to eat a full meal, and yet gain a fair amount of weight in a year!
     3) It is absolutely acceptable to febreeze your children's bedding and call this "doing laundry".
     4) It is impossible to own a clean car or home, no matter how many behavior charts, consequences, or rewards you post throughout your house.
     5) Sleeping with your eyes open as your child tells you the ever-changing thoughts that rush through her head is not only acceptable, it's downright recommended.
     6) Laughing with derision as a non-parent tells you they're tired because they stayed up late watching a movie or going out with friends may not bode well for your relationship with that person, but it does make you feel a little better about your jealousy towards them... afterall, they'll know what true exhaustion is soon enough.
     7) If your child does something completely ridiculous or horrendous, consult the internet immediately. Not only will you find some much needed support, but you'll walk away feeling grateful that your kid wasn't the one kicked out of school for repeatedly licking the teacher's leg.
     8) Taking the long way home from work is one of life's greatest joys.
     9) Going to the bathroom is a luxury.... make the most of each trip!
     10) It's ok to get the occasional odd/dirty look from strangers while you have your kids out in public.
     11) It's also ok to get odd/dirty looks from strangers while you're NOT with your kids in public, simply because you look disheveled, you're talking to yourself out loud, and you have a burp cloth over your shoulder.
     12) Eating hand sanitizer will not kill your children, despite popular belief.
     13) Calling your clients "sweetie" or "buddy" out of habit does indeed lead to an awkward silence during a therapy session.
     14) Cuddling with bed-wetters is a risky sport.... a simple sniff test first will save a ton of laundry later.
     15) Kisses are sloppy and sometimes sticky, but totally recommended.
     16) Motherhood is insane and beautiful all at the same time. It's alright to ask for help, cry, and call your own Mommy for advice.
     17) Even if their back rubs hurt a bit, be happy that they're learning compassion and the gift of touch.
     18) Pray. Often, fervently, and passionately.
     19) The homework will still be there after he catches the frog, rides his bike, or tells you about his day.
     20) Give yourself grace every now and again. You're not called to be perfect, you're called to be a Mother.

The Phone Call

    Hate versus love. Loss versus abundance. Anguish versus joy. Fear versus peace. Despair versus hope. For every great feeling there is an equally intense opposite. In order to know the fullness of one, you must, at some point, experience its opposite. Throughout the past week, my husband and I lived through a plethora of heart-breaking emotions. When faced with the possibility of having your baby taken from you at a moment's notice, it's unreal how your entire world starts to swim; drown is more like it. The complete fear, devastation, and grief that washes over you feels like an all-consuming tidal wave threatening to ruin everything you've ever loved and wanted. The other things in life become foggy, the events of the day seem tortured with waiting for that one life-changing phone call.
     Will my baby stay or will my baby leave me forever? Hate. Loss. Anguish. Fear. Despair. I experienced each of these strong emotions, along with so many more during this past week. One minute I wanted to cry, the next minute I felt too drained to shed a tear. I wanted to binge eat at one moment, and then I found myself hungry for nothing once I got to the fridge. The endless ups and downs were starting to take their toll. And finally the phone call came. My husband answered. I was on the phone with my parents, driving to work, as my husband's name flashed on my call-waiting. When I answered, he shared the news that my heart had been anxiously waiting for. The man in question is not our baby's father. 
     In that moment, I felt the full weight of each emotion as it drained from my body and was replaced by the opposite feelings. Love. Abundance. Joy. Peace. HOPE. And, in true woman form, I sobbed uncontrollably... and then I called my parents and brother and sobbed some more. Thankfully, they're weepers, too.
     Even though I'm very much aware that this tumultuous process is not done with until we take that one final picture with the judge to celebrate Isaac's adoption, I am able to rest well tonight, knowing that my baby boy is right here with me, just where he's supposed to be. And once again, I count my blessings. One amazing husband, three amazing children, three insane dogs, a loving and supportive extended family, and a vast number of friends (and strangers) that will go out of their way to pray for a situation that they only just heard about. I love you all.