Big M's Birth Story Part One

A Beginning 

editors note: I'm posting this in reverse order so make sure you catch part two which is posted earlier: 

also its long

I decided that I should write Melissa’s ‘birth’ story.  Although it has been told countless times to my knowledge it has never been written down until now.  Of course, Melissa’s story is written from the perspective of a 5 year old memory.  Memories are distortions of the past, that change with us as we change.  But I will do my best to describe the events and more importantly (I think) the emotions of this great journey of ours. 

Looking back, so many events took place that put us on the path that lead eventually to Melissa.  Everything from the decision to adopt, when to start the process, where to go, our reasons and emotions behind those decisions, what we said in our profile, the pictures we selected, and the failed adoptions, all lead us to Melissa.  But one must begin somewhere.  For this particularly rendering I have chosen to start with a phone call.  But not THE phone call.   

The phone call came the first week of December.  We had recently met a birth mother who was due around Thanksgiving but we hadn’t heard anything about it since.  We had timidly told some family, and slowly grew our meager “72 hour emergency baby preparedness kit”.  Then the first week of December we got another phone call from our caseworker, “P”.  P told us that the birth mom whom we had met had decided not to place her baby, but that there was ANOTHER birth mom “K” who was very interested in us.  This one she said looked very promising, but we were timid.  In mid December we scheduled a time over lunch where we could meet her.  She ended up not making it to that meeting, but she did have a letter written to us.  We didn’t really know what to make of this.  It was a time of waiting, so we did.  We prayed for K and tried to go on with life as normal.  We continued to prepare for an arrival of an infant with hopes held high (at least I think our hopes were high I honestly can’t remember).

Yet our preparation was subtle and almost covert in nature.  We were so excited that this might actually be happening but so nervous that it wouldn’t.  I remember trying to keep myself from becoming too excited just in case yet not really being able to.  Also there was a fear, always there, of having purchased baby items which would become a constant reminder of what we didn’t have, yet yearned for so desperately.  But needless to say we bought furniture, and acquired some other baby essentials.  We opted not to tell anyone (again that fear).  The only people who knew the situation was our bosses at work.  K was due around Christmas.  Christmas came and went with no word.  Back to work and daily life we went.  

Then we got a phone call that K had delivered on Dec 26^th and had named her Millissa (we didn’t know of the spelling until much much later).  I remember relaying the info to Kent via telephone and saying I like the name Melissa, maybe we should keep it, and he said no, he didn’t like the name Melissa.  We were encouraged to give flowers which we did, which was a whole drama in and of it-self.  But there was no mention of a hospital visit.  It’s weird trying to remember what those first few days were like.  Wondering what was going to happen and when.  Were we going to be parents or not?  What did I think about a baby laying somewhere that may or may not be my daughter?  I can’t honestly recall.  But thinking back I know why this situation had to happen first.  This would be way more difficult for me to handle now then I think it was for me back then.  Then P called.  “She wants to take her home for a few days”.  “What did this mean?” we thought again.  No one knew.  A few days turned into a week.  But life marched on.  We went to work, we went home, and we carried on.  I had my ‘desk’ at work and project list clear and ready to leave for an extended amount of time at any moment.    We were told that at the end of that week they were going to have a chat about what to do next.  K’s case worker was going to be there as well as the director of the Agency.  Both of these two individuals turned out to be incredible people and without their love and dedication our story would have turned out so differently.  

We got the phone call later that day about the meeting.  “she still wants to parent”, Pat told us, “but K repeatedly stated ‘I can change her mind at any time right?”  P remained so optimistic for us.   She just knew that this would work out.  “But in the meantime do you want to put your profile back on line?” We said yes reasoning it couldn’t hurt.  But it did hurt.  Emotionally. 

Spoiler Alert:  We picked up Melissa a few days shy of four weeks later (Jan 20).  This is the hard part of the story to tell.  Four weeks is such a long time to “Not Know”.  At first I remember being so confused.  What did all this mean?  Should we remain optimistic and hopefully, or grieve for a child lost and move on?  We osculated between these extremes almost hourly.  It is so hard to describe what those days and weeks were like.  We were stuck in limbo.  If we had been told “No” she has decided to parent we could have moved on, but she didn’t say no but didn’t say yes either.  

I tell people often that Melissa was 4 weeks old when we picked her up.  Their reactions are usually one of casually interest.  Sometimes I even will tell them that her birth mother, picked us out but then took her home for those 4 weeks.  Then I usually get very confused looks.  But one time I told this to a perfect stranger and she had the reaction I’ve always expected but only received once.  WOW she says that must have been so incredible hard for you.  Her sympathy brought me to tears because it was so incredible hard.   Its hard to even write about 5 years later.  So many thoughts race threw my brain all at the same time.  

Like afterward how my boss (one of two people other than Kent and I that knew what was going on) said how amazed he was I was still able to come to work and work.  But what he didn’t know about was the times I would hide in a bathroom stall and bawl.  (Sidenote:  my boss was so awesome.  He never asked or bother me for information which was exactly what I needed at the time. )  How confused we felt.  What did this mean?  Do we mourn and move on or stay hopeful?  And the constant tug between this two feelings.  Or how we remained optimistic and hopeful for the first few days, but as the time dragged on the hope began to fade.  How one minute I would be totally optimistic and happy and the next completely depressed.    Or how for the first few days you heart would race ever time the phone would ring, and how slowly that feeling died.  How I struggled to find my balance again.  I cut my hair, we spent a weekend at a bed and breakfast in Heber, trying ever trying to escape.  Or the sleepless nights. 

But life marched on and so did we.  We got up, we went to work, we came home, we ate dinner.   The project list at work grew and we slowly began to move on with things.  And by the end had concluded that this was not our time.  

Three weeks after Christmas, my (Beth’s)  grandmother passed away.  It was not un-expected and in many ways her passing was a good thing.  But having the excuse of a death gave me the outlet to my grief and emotions.  I’ve always wondered how many tears were for my grandmother (who I loved and miss dearly) and how many were for my own trials.  To this day when I think of Melissa coming into our lives I remember my grandmother, and can’t help but wonder if she had something to do with her finally coming home. 

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.

New Year's Resolution 2012 Edition

WHAT you can't write your new year's resolutions it's not even January, it's Novemeber.  You're supposse to write a blog about how thankful you are for blah blah blah.  Yea Yea yea whatever...

So in recent years I've blog my New Year's Resolutions and they've usually been vague, and mushy.  Not this year.  This year I'm getting specific and I'm starting early.  See its only November. 

Goal #1:  Finish an unfinished project

               We all have them.  That project that you'll get around to one-day.  Well this year I
               will have at least one one-day.  Possible projects include:  the kids baby books, the quilt from
              Alaska from 2004, or the box of T-Shirts I've been saying "I'll make a quilt out of those one-day"
              for the last 11 years. 

Goal #2:  Learn something new

              I really want this new something to be bold, like learning to play the piano or how to change the oil
              in my car, or taking a continuing education class.  But in reality there is WAY too much going on in
              my life for something THAT ambitious.  So learning to make a pumpkin pie from scratch or how to
              bind a quilt by hand will be acceptable outcomes.  

Goal #3:  Try something new

               New food, new recipe, new activity, maybe I'll try hunting next year.  This one should be easy I
               like to try new things.  

St George

My next week off my mom, sister, daughter and I took a trip to St George to see Little Mermaid.  We drove down on Thursday and the play was Friday night.  Friday day mom and my sister wanted to go for a hike in snow canyon.  Melissa just wanted to play in the pool.  I talked mom and sister into to smaller kid friendly hikes enstead of longer one that they would have enjoyed more.  My favorite part of the trip was when Melissa was talking to her dad on the phone and said:

"I don't want to go hiking, THEY want to go hiking.  I hate hiking.  Hiking is boring."

See what a terrible time she had. 

She thought playing in the sand dunes was AWESOME

 

After snow canyon we did play in the pool.  The play was really neat.  Melissa was exhausted after playing all day,  but she still enjoyed it.  

 

After the play I got to met up with the Bushtits in a met in the middle quick birding trip.  Due to a series of serendipitous events, we ended up with a hotel room and a rental car.  Hopefully it doesn't go to our heads for future trips, or I might start thinking we are getting old.  The birding was fun but the company was better. 

 

This is because we had just seen a really really really rare bird and it was a lifer for all three of us!!

Okay really it's just because we are silly and were having fun. 

 Also on this birding trip we decided that we had to go see Big Year together.  It was totally awesome to watch it with other fellow birders.  I highly recommend it,  One side note (actually make that two), first the girls that makes the bird sounds is lame, and second no we are not that obsessive, and yes some people are. 

A Few Pictures From Omaha

 

Nebraska

Over Mia’s second birthday we decided to take a trip back to Nebraska. I loved Nebraska. Let me try and explain why.

When we starting looking at Law school both Kent and I wanted to go out of state. We would have stayed if we had the opportunity but I think we both wanted the law school, the adventure, and the culture of living outside of Utah. Right before moving to Nebraska was a CRAZY time. Within in days we packed up, moved, finalized our oldest adoption, blessed her, sealed her, quit my job which was crazy and stressful all on its own, found a place to live, and had a going away party. Through all of this, I never really had the time or the chance to sit down and process, emotionally, what moving meant.

I can still picture the exact spot on the road. We had been on the road for 2.5 day and were just entering the city of Omaha. Suddenly it hit me. We were not just going to Omaha we were IN Omaha. For the first time in my life I was moving away. I was going to be living in a city where I didn’t know ANYONE. And it was scary. I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the one that you get right before you get up to speak in public, or at the top of a roller coaster when you are just a little bit scared. My stomach was at my knees and full of butterflies. But then the next day we woke up and got to work: moving, unpacking, settling in, living life, making friends, and exploring. And a funny thing happened, like on the roller coaster I had fun, I enjoyed the ride.

I remember the first few months of being there I was a stay at home mom who didn’t really know anyone yet, with one baby to look after, and my husband was in school. So off Missa and I went. We explored and found places to visit and to see.

I met some amazing people there, who we will be friends with for the rest of our lives. I fell in love with the hills and trees of Omaha, and with the wide open spaces and the prairies of the Midwest. But mostly I fell in love with the people. But one of the things I miss the most about Nebraska was my life there, the simplicity of it and the chance to be a stay at home mom. There were good days and bad days of course.

Of course we will always have a deep connection to Omaha because that is where Mia’s birth family is from and live. They were a major motivation for our trip. So we rented a minivan and off we went 2000 miles round trip.

The girls did really well for being the car that long. The minivan helped (I’m choosing to leave out the drama of renting said minivan). We didn’t make any firm plans but ended up with dinner invites every night we were there, and even had to turn one down. I was hard to balance our time as we knew it would be. We had so many people we wanted to see, and things we wanted to do, and wanted some time to be together as a family. But all in all it was a good time.

Kent went back to the law school, I went back to Fontenelle Forest, we played in the pool, we ALL went to the ZOO (oh how I miss the zoo) and to the big slides. We spent the day of Mia’s birthday with her family. Oh it was so good to see them and we wish we had had more time with them. We were able to have to time with the Journeys and many, many others friends. And all too quickly it was time to come home.

Pictures Hopefully to Come.

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.