Big M's Birth Story Part Two

January 20th 

The Phone Call

(*I'm posting this in reverse order so it reads start to finish so make sure you read part one first)

It was a Saturday a week to the day after my grandmothers funeral, which is forever ingrained in my head.  We had decided to go to the temple.  We were trying to met up with Dad C at a ridiculous early time of the morning, at the temple.  We didn’t quit make it in time to find Dad but we did have an enjoyable time.  I remember feeling such peace that day.  I knew that day without a doubt that I had a father in heaven who loved me and who know my heart ache.  He told me that day that I would be a mother one day and that I just had to be a little bit more patient, to trust in his timeline and not my own.  Walking out of the temple that morning I felt for the first time true Love for K.  I know I could once again pray for her, love her, have compassion for her, and that no matter what happened I would love her.  

After the session I talked Kent into eating breakfast at the temple.  When we got to the car it was like 8 am I remembering thinking I ought to turn on the cell phone but decided against it since we were usually not even out of bed by 8 am on a Sat morning.  Then we decided to take the scenic route home, up and over traverse mountain.  Still the one and only time I’ve been up there.  When we got home (maybe by 9, still we were not usually out of bed by this time) we walk in the door and there were 4 messages on a answering machine.  The first was from P. (our case worker), Kent was dialing her number before the message ended.  The next 3 messages were from family members trying to find us.  There were 10 messages on the cell phone.  Within minutes of being home my sister was at the door, sent there by my mother to try and locate us.  The agency in a panic to try and find us had called everyone on the roster, including a former bishop, and the temple.  Well P said we have a baby but there are some “legal issues” to work through so STAY BY YOUR PHONE.  After 4 weeks of waiting we had no idea what legal issues meant (Kent has a far better understanding now).  So we calmed everyone down and downplayed everything.  (family to this point still didn’t know everything we had been going through).  I can still remember Kent talking to his mom who was so frazzled she was scrubbing the kitchen floor.  Kent and I on the other hand were still riding the high from the temple and were remarkable calm and cool.  Taking it all in stride as they say.  So Kent ran an errand. 

About an hour later P calls back and simply says come pick up your baby girl.  THAT was THE phone call, you know the one when I start to panic.  I frantically open the box to the car seat and tried very unsuccessfully to read directions, I threw a  load of baby clothes in the wash, and wore a hole in the carpet from pacing.  We drove to the agency and they took us back to a room.  And then my precious baby girls was placed in my arms.  Tears of joy were shared by many.  P was there as well as K’s case worker and the SL agency director.  These women, who must have thought as we did that perhaps things may not work on for us this time, did not give up on K.  They were there for K when she needed someone, and their dedication helped to bring our baby to us.  After a few minutes I handed her to Kent.  Then she smiled.  I know its just the gassy smiles but everyone else in the room cooed and said she knew she was home.  She always has been a daddy’s girl.  

As we walked out of the agency that day Kent said “what about Melissa Faith”, I said “But you didn’t like the name Melissa.”  So around and around went the name talk again.  We took her home and realized we had no bottles.  So Kent left to go buy some.  Then the power went out.  I remember sitting on our couch in the semi darkness with Melissa  in my arms and thinking holy cow now what do I do?  We spent the rest of the afternoon, at the request of the agency,  at an instacare getting her checked out.  She seemed fine.  Then we got to surprise the grandmas.  Kent’s mom wasn’t home but quickly got there from a neighbors house to met her newest grandbaby.  My brother was pulling out and turned the car around when we told him there was someone he might want to met.  

By the time we left my moms house it was late at night and we had been up since the ridiculous hour of the morning.  So when M cried from midnight till 6 am it made for three very exhausted people.  Sunday was a whirl wind.  I called my boss to tell him I couldn’t come in on Monday, or for the next three months.  I remember as I was leaving work that Friday feeling like I had so much I needed to get done on Monday, and writing a sticky note of things that had to get done.  More phone calls went out to ward members, friends and family.  People stopped by, we put together the rocking chair we had, finally were able to dry the clothes I had throw in the wash the day before, and we gave Melissa a bath.  Sunday evening Kent sat down to begin the first of many letters that would be written to K.  As Kent was typing the letter he came out and said she was definitely a Melissa.  And that is the story of how Melissa Faith, became a Cottam.

Plant eating children are better than children eating plants.

I know that every parent feels a great sense of responsibility for their children.  We are burdened with the job of making sure they turn out okay.  But I sometime think that because my children are adopted, I feel an even greater sense of resposibility.  Because someone gave me the most precious gift one can imagine.  They entrusted ME to raise their kids, to give them something that they could not.  And its more than just love because I believe that their birth parents loved them very much and continue to love them to this day.  And sometime I wonder if because I think this way and feel this way if I'm harder on myself then I ought to be.   

I'm not perfect.  So I screw up sometimes and make mistakes.  And sometimes I lose my patience, and sometimes when I lose my patience I lose my temper.  And after I lose my temper I feel horrible.  So bad that sometimes it can send me into a downward spiral of guilt, and pushes me to the edge of depression.

That is when I need to remember the plant eating story.  The planting eating story was something I read randomly somewhere, I think it was a blog.  The women writting it had children that were birth and adopted.  She related a story about her first support metting with other adoptive parents and how they were all stressing about the strange habits that their kids had and worring if it was because they were adopted.  She they relates all the strange thing her children did (that were not adopted) including eating plants.  She just assumed (rightly so) that it was just strange things children did.  And as adoptive parents we need to relax and just remember that kids are kids and not to stress so much about them being adopted.  I showed it to Kent because I thought it was funny and it became a running joke with us.  "Oh that's cuz shes adopted"  No we don't do this much around the kids anymore now that they are old enough to understand us.  But sometimes its still funny.

So I need to remember that even though I'm an adoptive parent, I'm a parent first.  Which means I'm a parent that loses her patience with her kids, whose kids drive her crazy at times, who sometimes wonder if they are worth it after all, and constantly worries if she's doing the right thing.  And its just because kids are kids, and parents are parents and sometimes it seems the two are incompatible.   

April is Infertility Month

I wanted to write something about April being  Infertility Awareness month.  To say that dealing with infertility is a tough thing is like say the ocean is big. I a stumbled on  this blog and this one and thought they were way better than anything I could ever say.  But I'll share with you a story.  I hesitate a little in the telling I think because it's kind of personal, but also because I don't believe the story is at an end yet, and I hate to tell a half written story, but nonetheless here it is. 

We had recently moved.  Dutifully the Relief Society president came over to introduce herself and get to know me.  She asked how long we had been married (a pretty standard question in a get to know you section).  When I told her, her response surprised me.  She proceeded to tell me that her first son was adopted and how long they waited and hoped to be parents, and how wonderful it was to have her son through adoption (he was 19 at the time).  Well at that I basically broke down and bawled.  Something I never do especially in front of people I just barely met.  And I told her that we were thinking about starting the adoption process.  She told me several time that I could call her anytime to cry on her shoulder.  That comment alone let me know that she understood what I was going through.  From then on she was so sweet to me.  It wasn't anything really big.  She was never over bearing, or pushing.  But would on occasion quietly ask how things were going.  I remember her asking me after we were on the 'pick us list' how long we had been waiting.  It had been about a year.  She got so excited because we were a whole year closer to becoming parents.  I was feeling depressed about having waited a whole year, with nothing to show for it, but her enthusiasm gave me a new perspective.  

She was one of the first people I called when we were placed, and the first one to bring us dinner.  As she sat in my living room holding our new born baby I told her how grateful I had been for having known her.  And I will never forget what she said next.  She looked me right in the eye and told me, now YOU can be a support to someone else, and you can be there for them.  Her comment has always stayed with me.  Maybe because her kindness and quiet manner was just what I needed at the time.  Maybe there is something so important about seeing a light at the end of a dark tunnel.  To have the perspective of someone who has been there, done that, and lived to tell the tell. 

But I feel a great responsibility from her admonition.  I have been amazed at the people who have come into my life that I have been able to talk with about infertility and adoption.  From total strangers, to close friends, to family.  Her words have become a prophesy being fulfilled.  I have tried to live up to her words and to be there for them the way she was for me.  But I worry that maybe I could have or should have done more, or maybe I have done too much.  

I will always be gratefully for that wonderfully lady, and I pray that I will be able to pass on the love and encouragement I felt from her to others.  That I, like she, will be a comforting ear to bend and shoulder to cry on, to anyone faced with the challenge of infertility.  

Happy Adoption Day Melissa

Dear Melissa,

Four years ago today I held you in my arms for the first time.  I will never forget that day, the anxiety, the adrenaline, the joy, and the tears.  Words can not accurately describe the emotions of that day.  I am still amazed by the fact that it has been 4 years.  You continue to amaze me everyday. Here are a few things I want to remember about you the year you turned 4.  You definitely have your fathers sense of humor, and you make me laugh all the time, even though sometime you get embarrassed when I think your funny.  You are growing up everyday.  I year a go you were a new big sister and I loved to watch to make your baby laugh and smile.  It surprises me how much you have grown up and changed in the last year.  You speak so clearly now.  Gone are all the cute baby words you use to say.  This year you started pre-school and while it was my idea to begin with I was surprised by how hesitate I was.  I know you love to learn and you are so good at it.  But I wanted to keep you close.  I no longer have total control over what happens in your day and the thought is thrilling and frightening at the same time.  You also had your first dance recital this year.  You were so CUTE!  I was so excited to see your first time dancing on stage.   I loved every minute of it.  I look forward to many more.  I look forward to helping you figuring out what you are really interested in, and what your talents are.    The way you play is growing and changing too.  You love to color, and read books, and play with your new doll house.  I can't begin to imagine all the things you will learn to do next year.  I love you sweetie.

Mom

My Big M Mystery

Today is a special day. It marks the third year that Melissa has been a wonderful and energetic part of lives. I wasn't there when Melissa was born and so her birthday holds less significance for me other than it might otherwise. But Jan 20th is the day that holds all the memories for me. Jan 20th is the day we got The phone call. It is the day we rushed, holding our breath to the agency. It is the day that I first saw her, that I first held her, that I first learned I was going to me a mother. Jan 2oth is the day we brought her home. It is the day that I thought 'holy crap I have a baby, now what'. Jan 2oth is the day that changed my life forever. And so I want to celebrate Jan 20th.

But Melissa is old enough now to understand birthdays. And we made a big deal about her going on an airplane for her birthday. And even though we didn't do much for her birthday besides the airplane she knows that her birthday has come and gone. So now I need to figure out what to call today. Adoption day? Gottya Day? Lets have a party to celebrate Melissa day? Second birthday? What do you think? What would make the most sense to a three year old?

Different Trip to the Same Place

This was so good I had to share it. It was copied from www.adoption.com Thank you to Kris and her friend for letting me know about it. It says everything I can't.

Deciding to have a baby is like planning a trip to Australia. You've heard it's a wonderful place. You've read many guidebooks and feel certain you're ready to go. Everyone you know has traveled there by plane. They say it can be a turbulent flight with occasional rough landings, but you can look forward to being pampered on the trip.

So you go to the airport and ask the ticket agent for a ticket to Australia. All around you, excited people are boarding planes for Australia. It seems there is no seat for you: You'll have to wait for the next flight. Impatient, but anticipating a wonderful trip, you wait - and wait - and wait.
Flights to Australia continue to come and go. People say silly things like, "Relax, you'll get on a flight soon." Other people actually get on a plane and then cancel their trip, to which you cry, "It's not fair!"

After a long time the ticket agent tells you, "I'm sorry, we're not going to be able to get you on a plane to Australia. Perhaps you should think about going by boat."

"By boat!" you say, "going by boat will take a very long time and it costs a great deal of money, I really had my heart set on going by plane." So you go home and think about not going to Australia at all. You wonder if Australia will be as beautiful if you approach it by sea rather than air. But you have long dreamed of this wonderful place, and finally you decide to travel by boat.

It's a long trip, many months over many rough seas. No one pampers you. You wonder if you will ever see Australia. Meanwhile, your friends have flown back and forth to Australia two or three more times, marveling about each trip.

Then one glorious day, the boat docks in Australia. It is more exquisite than you ever imagined, and the beauty is magnified by your long days at sea. You have made many fiends during your voyage, and you find yourself comparing stories with others who also traveled by sea rather than air.

People continue to fly to Australia as often as they like, but you are able to travel only once, perhaps twice. Some say things like, "Oh, be glad you didn't fly. My flight was horrible: traveling by sea is so easy."

You will always wonder what it would have been like to fly to Australia. Still, you know God blessed you with a special appreciation of Australia, and the beauty of Australia is not in the way you got there, but in the place itself.
Credits: Lynn