All We Ask

There are a couple of life lessons that become learned over time when experiencing the wait for children to find their way into your home, through adoption or otherwise. One of them is that you never know someone's story, so don't judge too quickly when the clerk is snappy, the jerk cuts you off on the road, or even a good friend has been withdrawn. I suppose this one is learned by many people who have experienced anything significant in life and struggles sometimes with others not being engulfed in their own personal drama at the same moment.

The other lesson is for those of you with children, or any loved ones or even pets really, but we're focused on kids of late. It is simply to be grateful for those kiddos in your life and I'm directing it at you whether you're young or old and have babies or grown children. I'm sure some of you have tuned out now, chalking this up as one of my emotionally-charged rants about gratitude and finding the positives in life. But, it's more than that.

As people who have struggled to conceive and then maybe even waited for a child through adoption can tell you, it seems like everyone on the planet is having kids just by blinking at each other. Everywhere we look, someone is pregnant or toting toddlers around, and oftentimes complaining. (Admittedly, I don't get the same emotional tug when I see snotty teenagers talking back to their parents, but I'm sure I'll become more accustomed to that in time, sigh). Anyways, the point is that not everyone has trouble adding kids to their lives and you have to remember how lucky you are to be living in the land of giggles, and even midnight feedings.

I struggled with how to share this sentiment today. It's not meant to be a pity party. I'm not feeling sorry for us. Actually, I'm feeling lucky right now. This isn't meant to focus on the families waiting to multiply, it's meant for you to focus on your own. And, it's a happy post.

You should know that some people are out there struggling to get and stay pregnant. Some people have been waiting for years to adopt. Some have lost their kids after decades of memories formed with them. I think those are easy stories to forget in the busy-ness of life with kids. You could easily spend a day, or a week, or a month without recognizing that you are kissing a treasured gift goodnight each evening. You might not be able to feel the gratitude in the din of the screaming.

All we ask is that you take a dedicated five minutes today (yes, that can feel like a long time), by yourself, and reflect on the miracle that you have in your family. It's worth it for us to know that all of you with kids realize the multitude of biological complexities that have to go right for you to end up with that bundle of joy to love at the end of the journey. Don't take it for granted. If you find yourself bubbling up with gratitude, go ahead and without a reason at all, hug your kids, or your dogs, or your chickens, if you're so lucky to have them.

Back to Busy

Well, meeting or no meeting, we didn't get any news today. Hopefully, "A" got to the doctor and received some magic remedy for the final-weeks-yuckies. We sincerely hope she finds some peace in her heart, relief in her belly and a comfortable way to sleep! With little else to do but wait, I dug down deep into that nesting urge and carried on.

Before we went to California, we finished what we set out to paint in the nursery. We never shared a final shot of the room and to avoid you thinking we stopped short of finishing that tree, here's where things stand now, with Josh's giraffe, evidence of the elephant that is just outside of the 2nd story window and a family tree with room to sprout new photos soon. We're just flat outta time to add the cheetah and monkeys. (Clicking the photos will enlarge them).

 

 

I've read a little about nesting lately as I feel the urge to prepare for our baby once again. Now, organizing piles and tidying things up is nothing new for me. In fact, some of you might question how I can identify the specific urge to "nest" as different from what I wake up wanting to do every day. When I read about this phenomenon on-line, wouldn't you know, it's attributed to pregnant women in the final stages of pregnancy, oh and a bunch of other animals in the kingdom when they're expecting too (hence the term "nesting").

Well, I have news for the many researchers out there trying to draw a physiological correlation between the need to clean and the hormones of pregnancy. For me, it seems it applies just as true for those of us simply preparing the nest without the hormonal changes and midnight cravings. (Don't get me wrong, I've been known to need cookies at all hours of the night, but I've never been lucky enough to have an excuse to blame it on.)

Suffice it to say that I do feel a need to get everything just right so that the little tyke can mess it all up, both figuratively and literally. It seems I have an innate sense (and a lot of good, experienced friends telling me) that life as we know it is about to change. Maybe in an attempt to gain some control over the threatening situation, we try to put it all in proper order so that the chaos has an organized place from which to begin. In my own experience, I'd say that the lack of a belly to rub or an oddball food to crave, leaves me feeling even more impatient and drives a subconscious need to keep busy.

Enter loving friends with LOTS to share. Fitting all of the generous donations to prepare for our little girl into our cubby of a home was challenge enough. Now, we're accepting the blue versions of everything and it's all adding up quickly. I spent the evening labeling easily over 100 pieces of the tiniest clothing we've ever seen, then washed and folded them (I know, I know, this is just the beginning). Whew, good thing I needed something to do. Yes, it would be nice to just catch up on sleep as is suggested by everyone, but it seems I'm sharing the insomnia part of this phase with my pregnant friends too. Enjoy the long posts by midnight!

'Tis the Season...

...the rest of that line in the song remains to be seen tonight.

I was supposed to leave for Thailand tomorrow. When we made those reservations, we knew that we were foregoing any tree shopping, decorating and Winter Solstice celebrations, at least in any typical TaJ fashion. While Thailand would've been a holiday season to remember, I was a little down in the mouth about missing the festivities at home. So, when our plans changed last week, I was happy to get back to settling into the spirit of the season.

Tonight, we got our tree. I have the ornaments laid out all over the floor awaiting their special place on the lit branches. Each one holds a treasured memory for us and each Christmas season seems to start with the unwrapping of the ornaments as if they themselves were the gifts to be celebrated.

Last year, we received a beautiful set of 12 wooden ornaments intricately carved out like snowflakes. I was laying them out, trying to figure out how to display them in a fun way and then it hit me. For the first Christmas in six years, my daydream about having a little one to cuddle under the tree was finally going to come true! I went ahead and let a few tears of joyous relief squeeze out. Then, the BND rang.

It turns out tomorrow's meeting isn't going to happen. A is feeling really physically ill and canceled our introduction. In fact, the words used were "we need to reschedule the meeting", but by the end of the call, nothing was rescheduled. We've been encouraged not to start thinking the worst, but this is like a bad recurring dream.

Apparently, she also broke down earlier this week when it came time to actually sign relinquishment papers. Consider the weight of her decision becoming very real all of a sudden as she read the legalese describing what would happen next and you can put yourself in her uncertain shoes. Still, she signed, so there's hope.

We are compassionate people, so we can appreciate the unease. It must be the hardest decision to make in a prospective birth mother's life, deciding to place her baby in the care of someone else. Also, I have too many close friends who I've nursed through the final weeks of pregnancy not to have a picture of how uncomfortable it all becomes at the end. We can certainly appreciate that her position is one that needs a lot of support right now.

Then, there's us. I don't know how we would take news like this if we hadn't endured our CA saga. Maybe we should know that these ups and downs are expected. Unfortunately, we don't have the luxury of imagining this in a more positive light because, in fact, CA did happen. It has left us resigned with the notion that if this is going to happen, it will happen, whether or not we hope and dream about it, or whether or not we worry ourselves to sleep about it.

All we could do tonight was hug, cry some fearful tears (yes, all that water moving around in my eyes for opposite reasons in the same night, told ya it would be a roller coaster) and then get back to the business of celebrating our lives together with our annual unveiling of the tree ornaments to the sound of Harry Connick Jr. singing carols (yummy! - sorry guys).

If that little boy wants to join us for the season, this is what will greet him when we carry him through the front door (trust us, it's 8' of beauty with the lights off and the twinkling happening). We're still hopeful that he'll join us soon. We're asking again for your prayers, good vibes and love beams tonight. Peace.

Click on the photo and you might find my favorites:
Christmas giraffe, Christmas chicken, Santa riding a sun, a golden Christmas fish,
a plush Christmas gecko, and Josh's beautiful commemorative ornament
for our Solstice Baby last year.

Still Just a Party of Two

It is common knowledge that there are mixed emotions about being a December baby. Sharing your birthday month with the hub bub of the holiday season can sometimes lead the birthday boy or girl to feel a little less celebrated (yay for half birthdays!). Our little guy faced the risk of sharing his big day with both the generally accepted date of baby Jesus' birthday and his daddy's birthday today!

We have not heard anything more about any doctors appointments this week, though we're confident that there was one. More importantly, we haven't been called to rush to the hospital yet. So, we're assuming that December 5th will go down as Daddy Schnabel's birthday alone.

We celebrated Josh tonight as a party of two by going to a grown up restaurant and some live jazz music afterwards. We don't anticipate wanting to fit this in over the coming months, so we made the most of the evening out.

Before we found out about this match, I was determined to lift us out of the funky air we were soaking in and rekindle our spirit of adventure. I received a groupon one day urging me to go ahead and make a big plan without waiting to see if we would have a baby or not by the expiration date of the deal. I went ahead and bought it for Josh's birthday gift. Now, we have to find a way to fit in a half day ice climbing session before mid-March!

I'm not sure that's going to happen, but at least we have the spirit of adventure well-embedded in our souls. We'll find a new normal when it comes to exciting outings, but they'll likely involve a third wheel for a while. We've been dreaming about the smiles, screams, snores and sillies that will certainly accompany any big excursion with our little boy. We can't wait to begin our next adventure as a party of three!

Full Term!

 



At least officially, our little guy is considered full term this week. This means that if he came out now, everything in his tiny body would likely be developed enough to handle life in this crazy world, with a little TLC from us, of course. He might be about 19" long and weigh around 6 lb, 5 oz, adding an ounce a day until he comes out. That makes him about the size of a bunch of swiss chard!

 

When we learned about him last week, we were told that he's not doing one important step in these final weeks, which is getting into position for his big debut. He has flipped between being breech and having his head down (hmm, maybe a future acrobat?). As he nears his due date in a couple of weeks, we're hoping he'll just be a good boy and get in position. If he won't, it will be a long and potentially surgical process for A to get him out, and we want this to be as easy as possible for her. So, turn baby turn is what I find myself humming sometimes to the tune of Disco Inferno by the Trammps. (Just for fun...click here).

 

At this point, it's hard for us to not know much about how he's doing in there. We are grateful that she goes to her doctors appointments and that we have some encouraging information about how they're monitoring her development into the home stretch. We're looking forward to learning a lot more on Friday when we get to meet her in person.

 

I guess it's the beginning of an era when we'll beg him more often than not to "JUST SIT STILL!"

Right Feels So Much Better Than Wrong

I've allowed myself to analyze why we're a little more nervous with this match than we were the first time. Sure, I think everyone would agree that it's to be expected. The reality is that we were burned and now we're more cautious with our hearts, but still really, really hopeful and excited at the same time.

When we suffered our miscarriage last year, we were really angry that the experience would rob us of our chance to just be joyful when the opportunity came up again. We felt we would always be scared that the same thing would happen the next time. When we were matched earlier this year, we were elated to realize that our 2011 loss had not made it impossible to find joy in the hope again. We were unequivocally excited about welcoming a new baby into our home and hearts. Now, I realize that this ability to see the difference in the two types of risk seems to be what made that renewed hope possible.

This time around, the risk is more similar to our fake match earlier this year than our loss last year. When we find ourselves in similar emotional situations as we were in back in August and September, that's when the hope falters in its attempt to beat out the fear.

Just like in July, we had a potluck with our adoption group scheduled for the weekend after we found out about our match. Just like in July, we felt nervous about sharing the news with the other waiting couples in our group and prayed that they knew how much we are hoping and waiting with them as well, even as we begin our journey with a new birth mother. Not like in July, Sunday we had the new sensation of sharing exciting news with a little hint of reservation dulling the glimmer in our eyes. Don't get me wrong, we're definitely hopeful, but man that trip to California really stung.

I know you all waited with us while we were in Fresno for some positive news that S was going to her appointments and getting legal paperwork done. We felt that you shared in our disappointment at every report that she had failed to make the date again. Well, I have good news for you to soak in with us!

Feeling a little uncertain about how committed I was becoming to Baby Boy Schnabel, I checked in with the agency on the way home from the potluck yesterday. The response was that she can't wait to meet us this Friday and she has completed the legal documentation. Wow, something going as expected, that's different. And man, does it feel great!

Tonight, we bought what we hope will be his cozy, leaving-the-hospital outfit. When I told the 8 month pregnant woman behind the counter that we were having a boy too, but we had her beat by about a month, her eyes literally went directly to my stomach. I explained that we were adopting. Wadling around in her 8th month, she just melted and exclaimed how jealous she was of me right now. I wished her good luck as we walked out of the store. We could all use it!

Putting the Old Garden to Bed



I've been gardening now for four years. My first garden was in the summer after we moved into our home. There was already a 4' x 9' space blocked out of the lawn by the previous owner for a small garden. As is typical, I wanted to go big and make all of that side of the yard garden space, but Josh had the good sense to encourage me to see how I like this gardening stuff first. It was a great recommendation. By the end of that September, there was no more lawn to be seen and in its place were eight raised beds, filled and prepped for the following spring.

What I like about my hobby in the garden is that it's the one place where I am most flexible and forgiving with myself. I tend to dive into most things I'm excited about with 100% determination and try to get it right the first time. But with gardening, I have the calming approach of "we'll just see how it goes and change what didn't work this year in next year's attempt." I do love it.

One thing I've learned in my brief foray into gardening so far is that I become very busy in spring. There's a lot of work to be done on the weekends when the weather warms and the sprouts begin to shoot up. As a California transplant who did not move here for the winter weather, I begin to thaw out in spring, but generally don't get the urge to spend all day in chilly March rubbing my hands together to keep warm between shovel dips to turn the soil. However, wait too long to get the garden going in spring and I would miss getting a head start on some of those early crops. So, I've learned from others to prep the garden in fall. I dig it under, mix in our chicken poop, cover the beds with the chopped leaves that we rake up from the giant silver oaks in the front and tuck it in for the season.

This fall was particularly challenging. I didn't want to step foot outside for a few nice weekends in a row because I was still so sad when we returned from California. I knew the weather could turn at any time, but I didn't care. Finally, I saw my way through the gloom and donned my gardening gloves last weekend.

Last Sunday was the first day of pulling out the now crispy dried plants leftover from summertime. This had great significance to me as it meant that the clouds were lifting in my heart and I was beginning to find my passions again. As I looked out on the yard at the end of the day and saw the plants I had nurtured through the hope of that first match with a fake birth mother turned into compost for next year's attempt, I was filled with a strong sense of closure. I couldn't make any headway into preparing the garden for next year without first pulling out this year's. Now that those dead plants were gone, there was room for new growth.

The timing of my rejuvination proved to be very prescient. We had known our profile book was being shown for a few weeks, but in my life of multiple meanings, we did not get matched until after I was able to pull out last year's garden, and all that it represented, as I worked in it last weekend.

As I wait anxiously for time to pass so we can meet A in person next Friday, one of the most salient parts of the metaphor is that when I do pull those plants out, they are not discarded. All of that dried up foliage and those thick stems are clipped to 3" sections of material and mixed into the compost pile. Next year, that pile will be the soil that fills the beds for the subsequent garden. Nothing is lost, just repurposed. This summer's events in our attempt to adopt have done their part to mold the people we are. Nothing was lost from that experience, but it feeds the hope that we have now and the dreams we continue to foster.