Lighthouses and Cottages

 If you had asked me 10-20 years ago what I thought motherhood would be like I'm sure I'd have rattled off some of the usual clichés which basically would have amounted to something along the lines of a glorified version of playing "house" and I'd have acknowledged that, sure, there would be crying and poop involved.  

For many women I'm sure that's what they get.  A few sleepless nights, maybe a colicky baby, but for the most part they have a blissful picturesque view of Motherhood that looks very reminiscent of a Thomas Kinkade painting.  Cute little cottage with some fun little forest animals peering from the trees while soft smoke streams from the cobblestone chimney.  Life is just this wonderful little existence with soft light and warm feelings.  Happy little baby they get to dress and feed and play with in perfectly decorated nurseries.

This has definitely not been the case for me.  For starters my road to Motherhood was not an easy one to begin with, considering it started with years of infertility.  Those years lead to a choice to adopt, not one child, but three.  A sibling set via foster care.  At the time they came to our home they were 4 years, 3 years and 8weeks.  They had all been through a lot, and we were not the first placement for the first two who had been taken from their parents almost a year prior.  A good example of the raw and not-so-pictureseque reality is this story.  Needless to say this particular view of Motherhood was not Mr. Kinkade's specialty.  Not polished and glowing, but harsh, real and rough around the edges.

Years later I would have a biological child.  Under very unideal circumstances, you can read what happened here.  At the time this meant Motherhood to me was single parenting despite having a boyfriend, public assistance and a deranged ex.  Not the material for which Kinkade has a technique.  

Moving forward, the boyfriend and father of my biological child did become my husband.  And with him he brought three stepkids to the family.  Meaning now I have the holy trinity of Motherhood- Adoptive parent, Biological parent and Step parent.  It is as if three universes are trying to coincide. Juggling the struggles that my older three kids have with accepting the choices their birth parents made, dealing with their adoptive dad (my ex) having his own parenting issues.  Trying to help them establish a healthy relationship with my husband, and all the new kids involved.  I'm very fortunate that they absolutely love their little 'half' brother, and my husband for that matter.  There are the challenges of my own bio son just being a toddler.  And of course balancing step parenting.  Dealing with the mothers (there are two) of my step kids, making sure to maintain healthy boundaries without compromising a loving relationship.

Because of all of the extenuating circumstances, I have had to have so many 'hard conversations' with my kids.  All I can say is that this woman absolutely sums up how difficult some of them have been in this video.

I will say my kids and I have had so many hard conversations, like the time in Yosemite I linked to above.  Another one of them was when the youngest of my three older kids realized she was adopted as well.  And all that that implied.  Next was when I had to talk to them about how I was pregnant despite the explanation we had always given prior, that my 'tummy was broken" and that's why I didn't have tummy babies before.  Then there was the conversation about how their adoptive father was not the father of my tummy baby.  Then the talk about us getting a divorce.  Me getting remarried.  The talk about what Step siblings are.

Then there was the conversation about how their biomom has another child.  Not only did she have a baby and lost her too, but she got her back.  The conversation about how their bio mom finally got with her 'program' and fought to get her baby back, and is now parenting that child.  Then sets in the reality that she had a chance, several in fact, to get her act together and work her program to get my kids back, but she didn't.  But for that child she did.

And the painting of Motherhood in my life has gotten really raw, really dark and I am doing my best to keep as much hope in the picture as possible.

Looking into the future I know there will be more hard conversations.  Motherhood for me will always be a battle to shelter my children's hearts while allowing them to know the truth.  I already know there will be a day when my first bio child realizes that he is in fact a bio child, that the others are not, and that he's not blood related to my older three.  That he is only a 'half sibling' to all the older ones in fact.  That despite the fact that kids in our home call my husband and I 'mom and dad' that they are not all 'ours'.  When he will realize that is why there are times when the others are not here.  He will now have a younger sibling that has the same parents as he does.  We are due in Feb 2014 and he will finally have someone who doesn't leave him for the weekend, who calls both of his parents 'mommy and daddy' as well and who has the same half siblings as he does.

I also know that there will be a day when I am asked to let my olders go see their biomom.  There will be so many questions and I know for a fact they are not going to like the answers to all of them.  

No, Motherhood for me will not be a 'happy little cottage' from Thomas Kinkade.  It undoubtedly will be more along the lines of 'stormy lighthouse' like this.

That is not to say it is not beautiful.  There are many other women who have similar, yet different, versions of their own less than idilic Motherhood.  More challenging, more of those hard conversations, more of the raw emotion and the battles to protect our children.  For those women who are happy cottages, they are the warm glowing home on the edge of a brook or meadow that their children run to in youthful bliss.  For those of us who are these lighthouses in the storm, we are also a haven for our children, a glowing light to guide them, a place for them to stay safe from the harder childhood that life threw at them.  

undying love

I woke up this morning and, like usual, stumbled through making coffee and checked my Facebook like a good junkie.  i have quite a few friends from all over the world and will regularly see posts about issues that i, unfortunately, know nothing and have heard nothing about.  whether it's a bus bombing or lack of shoes or water, there are always some new posts about some injustice around the globe that i should feel something about, and sadly, rarely actually do.  yes, those kids in africa are there, they just seem so far away.  of course i know they are real, yes i know they're hungry, yes i know they're dying.  but africa is a little beyond my reach and it just seems to be what it is.  and so i sip my coffee and shake my head, "that's a shame..." and i move on.


this morning i had a story in my status feed that i couldn't just shake off, just a shared photo actually.  but as we all know "a photo's worth a thousand words".    

yes, you saw that right, an abandoned baby in a trash can. *  


although this photo was taken in india, where this is horrifically common, i have seen many news stories of girls/women doing this here in america.  at the prom, at work, in motels.  


my first thought as my stomach turned was 'what the hell?'.  followed by 'people need to know this really happens, they need to see this and feel something too!'  initially i reposted this to Facebook out of the sheer "see this people?? this shit really happens!  this is what this really looks like, not just the faces of the 'confused teenagers' you see when they run the story on the news! THIS is what baby abandonment really looks like!"  as i posted it i even had a comment saying "'no child left behind' needs to be taken into a new direction".  as i read comments on the originating post i saw mostly huge amounts of bashing surrounded the controversy of posting this on a social site and most of the comments were that this is "disgusting" and "my 3 year old almost saw this!" and "what about that baby's dignity??, they don't deserve to have their picture shown like this!".


for the sake of my unsuspecting Facebook friends i took the post on my page down.  not because i don't think they should see this, i think they should, but only for the sake of their potential three year olds who may be playing farmville.  


however, that being said, yes this is disgusting, yes it is horrible, and yes that baby deserves more dignity that having their photo spread around social sites.  HOWEVER, that baby deserved a blanket, a cradle, a home, a family and his MOTHER'S ARMS!!  this baby did not get the life s/he deserved, whether s/he was stillborn or murdered postpartum, either way, they deserved way more than this metal can full of rubbish.  


as i was in labor with sam i had my sister joyously shouting at me "i can see his hair! oh my gosh ash he has hair! i can see him!" and i kept pushing, knowing i was about to hold my baby and see his hair for myself.  at the point where i'd delivered his head i looked down and saw his hair, and was overwhelmed with love just seeing him part way out.  delivering the rest of him and taking him into my arms i was by far the most emotional moment of my life.  i'm pretty sure on the recording all you hear for a while is "oh my god, my baby, i have a baby!" and i continue to babble semi-coherently about how much i love him and he's mine.  he was early so still fuzzy with lanugo hair, and i couldn't stop touching him.  counting his fingers and toes, kissing his face and head.  loving and bonding and whispering promises of undying love.  that is what this baby deserved.  his mother holding him, stroking his dark hair, kissing those fingers, caressing every inch and tenderly cleaning and swaddling him.  like every newborn this baby deserved undying love.  and i'm just judgmental enough to say i hope this mother gets what she deserves.  if karma started in india let's hope it's most effectual there.








*(for those of you about to argue about photoshop, all i can say is, so what if it is?  i'd love to hope this photo wasn't real but that does NOT mean this doesn't happen, that does NOT mean this isn't at the very least an accurate representation of what it does look like.  so that being said, we're going to assume for the sake of argument that this is real and move on.)

all star dreams

i wanted children much the same way as 10 year old boys want to be in the NBA or NFL.  it was my dream, a fantasy, something for which to yearn and make imaginary plans; it was not something that was ever going to become real because not all of us are built for such things.  sure i had the right parts, just like most boys have arms and legs, but that doesn't mean they worked the way they would need to in order to make a baby. 

someone in my position has two choices; acceptance or misery.  i chose acceptance, i was not going to have kids.  i lived my life with hope, of course.  whether it was a scare with a boy friend or years of trying with a husband, it never happened but there was always that little hope.  (although, no, i wouldn't have necessarily been thrilled about having a baby with any of the boyfriends for purely circumstantial reasons)  after years of negative tests despite hopes and scares, my brain just accepted that my reproductive system was offline and wasn't operational.  pretty much like the poor kid who just isn't coordinated enough to even offer a decent free-throw shot.

believe me it came as quite a shock when i found out i was pregnant in november of 2010.  it didn't seem possible, like some cosmic joke.  years of preventing, trying, preventing again, trying again, giving up and forgetting the dream all weighed heavy.  i'd moved on, adopted 3 amazing kids and accepted my life.  seeing that little pink line reminded me that i did in fact not only have the right 'parts' but that some how all systems had miraculously come online.  ready or not a baby is coming.

initially- shock.  secondly- panic.  at the time i was separated from my husband and had just started living with our 3 children in a women's shelter for victims of domestic violence. the reality was that i had been having an affair and hadn't even had sex with my husband in over 4 months.  narrowed down the paternity but certainly didn't eliminate any concerns.

i can't describe the feelings.  possibly like being drafted to the NBA but only being able to play if you drown 3 kittens before every game.  and if you don't play, the kittens will die anyway.  as a near-miss abortion myself, and for other reasons, aborting the baby was not an option.  period.  i was going to have a baby regardless of how bad everything else might get.  while part of me was excited for all the reasons being pregnant and the anticipation of having a baby naturally are, part of me knew when game time came, the kitties were gonna die.  i wasn't going to be able to avoid direct questions about the affair, about being a single mom and now having a baby, about who-what-when, and of course "don't you know what condoms are for???".  i was still married, my partner was married, there were kids on both sides, and "don't you know this makes jesus cry??".

first 12 weeks we told very few people.  we knew no one would have a legitimate reason to be happy for us.  and quite frankly, i knew that some possible responses would be something to the effect of "maybe you'll miscarry and this will all go away" or more brutally "hopefully it dies".  also with the high potential of miscarriage i didn't want to hear "it's probably for the best".  i wanted to be excited.  i WAS excited.  and it was easier to stay excited with my partner if we avoided a bunch of negative comments, after all, there'd be plenty later.

relatively speaking it was a healthy pregnancy.  i was fortunate enough to start out at a very healthy weight for myself and although i gained more weight than i'd have liked while pregnant, it all ended up in a healthy range for both me and the baby.  along the way we drew a lot more supporters than i ever thought possible.  most notably my dad.  his first comments were that he was really happy for me that i got to experience this and when i mentioned the timing being really bad all he had to say was "the timing is always bad, but could always be worse".  and he was right. my sister's were all very supportive.  it was really easy for them to focus on the baby and not so much the situation.  my mom, however, was waiting with 3 kittens and a rain barrel.

"i'm not even going to pretend to be happy for you"

well, at least she was honest.  she wasn't happy, not by a long shot.  i drew a lot of criticism from a lot of different places and continued to draw support from the most unlikely.  my kids were told when i was 17 weeks after an ultrasound established conclusively that i was pregnant, and with a baby NOT a jelly fish, and that he was in fact a boy.  again, thunderous applause from the audience, ex husband waiting with a rain barrel and the kittens.  unfortunately he has fostered an unhealthy relationship with our son (6 at the time) that made him feel compelled to run and tell him immediately.  it felt like it was raining cats for a while.

primary task was focusing on the positive and staying healthy, moving into an apartment with my three kids and continuing to work.  the night before 37 weeks i went into labor and, although it was not without its own drama, we got through it and had the baby. june 23, 2011 1:27 am.  6 lbs 4 oz, 19.5"

"labor and delivery" is a story for another blog, so i won't go into it here, but as for bringing home baby, we made it to the playoffs.  and for now, i think i may have filled my quota of kittens.  the nay-sayers are fewer and far between.  it's easier for people to focus on a baby and the miracle of life than to see the positive in a pregnant woman in my situation.  sure it helps that the baby is more cute than a field of frolicking kittens as well. 

i love the baby just as i love my other kids.  sure as an adoptive mom who's now had a biological child things are different but i believe it's in all good ways.  i don't love my older children less, but rather more.  their brother brings out newness in them and strengthens their relationships to each other and to me.  every night our round of kisses and hugs is never complete if they don't share it with him as well.  and although we're even more unorthodox than before, we are just as much a family.  maybe we should adopt a kitten to celebrate.

this is probably gonna hurt

i'm cursed with a brain of science and a heart of romance.  in any given situation i'll mentally break down all the possible scenarios and pick apart all the variables to logically deduce the best plan.  however, the heart wants what the heart wants and all too often i move forward with the most idiotic plans.  the most unfortunate part is that i dont proceed all blissfully ignorant of the cliff up ahead.  no, my brain has made sure to calculate down to the milimeter exactly how much distance and time i have till i meet my doom as my little heart's dream comes crashing down around me when plans fail.  any yet, fully aware, i fly forward and over the cliffs.  i suppose this is why i walked with ice block feet down the aisle and i got married.  twice.

the new new things.

in an attempt to blog again i realize that i haven't blogged in almost a year and there could hardly have been more "new" stuff going on if we'd tried.  from separating from my abusive husband via a women's shelter to miraculously becoming pregnant for the first, and probably only, time there has been enough "new" to fill 3 blogs.  i won't necessarily go back and fill in everything but i'm sure there will be bits and pieces of stories from the past year that make it into the new-new things to come.