Movement

As we prepare to ring in the new year tonight, I feel ready. Ready for change, for progress. Most years, I feel nostalgic and unsure about letting go of the past. But this time around, bring it on. It's not that 2013 was a bad year. On the contrary, it was probably the most successful, settled year I've had in a long time. And now that I feel settled, I want change. Positive change.

I joined a gym today. For the first time ever. I really don't want to be someone who starts this and doesn't follow through. I am truly ready for a lifestyle change. I want to feel different, better. I want to look in the mirror and see who I already feel like. Most of the time, I still imagine myself as a skinny teenager. I am far from that now. I don't expect to go back to size 4 or anything. In fact, I wouldn't want to. I like my curves and really just want to be healthier, to have more energy, to feel good.

I've loved being a part of a local mom's group and will continue to participate in those activities, but I feel like I would like to share more of our adoption story. There is a local adoption support group who is having a meeting on Thursday and I plan to attend. I don't know for sure if this will be the group for me, but I'm eager to try it out.

Before we became parents, Shannon and I loved to travel. We've always been good at traveling together and enjoyed the adventure, whether it was a drive cross country or two weeks in Costa Rica. But being parents changes things. I know there are still parents who travel the world with their children and never miss a beat. But we have yet to take any major trip these past 3 years. I haven't even visited my brother and his family in California in nearly 2 years.

So I've decided I'm ready to travel again. Payton and I visited my dad (only about 4 hours away) last week and had a great time. I plan to make sure we go back there at least 2-3 more times this year. For Christmas, we gave my mother a trip to California in February where Payton and I will go along. We plan to go to Minnesota for Shannon's little brother's wedding in May and will probably make that a big 2+ week vacation.

I'm ready to get out there and experience the world, to widen my perspective and allow positive changes to creep in. I want 2014 to be the year of movement for me and my family. More action, more energy, more vigor. Can't wait to see how it turns out!

Blah today

Feeling blah today. I went to to a playgroup this morning and just didn't feel connected to anyone. I felt like my quietest, most introverted self. I didn't speak up to join in conversations, just mostly sat and somewhat listened.

I know what bothered me the most was their inevitable topics of conversation: breastfeeding, giving birth and trying to get pregnant again. None of which I have anything to share about. I know it's nothing against me, but I still felt hurt. I know it's really my issue to deal with. And usually, it's not a big deal. But today... Even when a couple of them mentioned miscarriages, I had nothing. I actually almost started crying at one point.

I think it's the option of ttc that is bringing these feelings back up again. Now that I'm off birth control, it's harder. And I'm sure the added hormones I hadn't had to deal with don't help either. I had my first period since stopping the shot recently, so now I guess my body is getting back to normal. Normal. Whatever that means.

I really don't want to be pregnant. But I'm still jealous of those who have it so easy. And even I know it's not really so easy for them, it just feels like it to me. Recently, it has seemed like everyone I see is pregnant. And it hurts all over again. At the grocery store, at preschool, at playgroup. And yes, I know I'm in places where you would expect to see pregnant women. Of course, other families with children Payton's age are adding to their family. I just hadn't had these feelings of jealousy for a while and I'd hoped they were gone for good...

I love Payton and wouldn't change her for the world. Just a blah day so far. Hopefully girls night with a good friend who doesn't have kids is just what I need.

Another good day

Another good day today. I have the same good, balanced feeling again tonight. I was able to really connect with one of my clients today after she'd been struggling for weeks and adjusting to a big transition. The session just flowed and I didn't have to feel like I was trying to make it work; it just worked. I won't lie. Not all of these past two days have been sunshine and roses. I've still had clients run away from me, roll their eyes when I walk in or tell me "You know, I've had a lot of therapists and it's all been a waste of time. You'll be no different." But, at the end of the day, I still feel good about my job and the choices I made.

The best part of the day was getting to spend time with my family this evening once I got home. Especially Payton. A lot of times when I get home late, she's already asleep or in full meltdown mode. But tonight I had such a pleasant time with her. I felt like we really connected and it was good. It's amazing we can have actual conversations now. I was able to be my old, patient self and really just sit and give her my entire attention. I honestly didn't even want to put her to bed. We were having such a nice time together. Even in the middle of it, I was thinking how happy I was to be experiencing this and that this is what I'd imagined when I wanted to have kids, what I'd longed for.

I can't say what exactly was different these past two days. I have been trying to exercise more, so that could be having a positive effect. Whatever it is, I am grateful for the experience. I hope I can hold on to this feeling and have it continue to shine through me.

Balance

It was a good day today. Nothing too special, just felt like a good balance between my work and family life.

This morning I hosted our playgroup at our house. It was a nice small group today and everyone got along great. I'm so thankful we got involved with this group. Making and keeping good friends can be a challenge, but I truly feel like I belong here. And the benefits for Payton have been great too. Between this group and starting preschool, I really see her blossoming socially these days.

Then I went to work this afternoon and saw 5 clients. Two were brand new and I really felt like I connected with one. It feels good to help others and know I'm providing for my family too.

Finally I was able to come home and still see Payton again before bedtime. She was sleepy and a bit cranky, but I was glad I could be there for our evening family time. And to give Shannon a bit of a break. I know they're fine without me when I do have to work later, but it's nice to be reminded how special I am to Payton :)

Thankful

Silly mommy. All those worries from yesterday were unfounded. Payton did awesome this morning, a star patient really. I woke her up early early this morning and she sleepily asked, "We're going in the car in the dark?" But then she got dressed and loaded up without any complaints. She was pleasant the entire car ride even though it was still dark, it was raining and we were stuck in traffic for a bit. She bounced into the surgical center all smiles and singing. It was a general surgical center (not a children's hospital like where she'd had the tubes put in 2 1/2 years ago), so she was the only child there most of our time and everyone thought she was just adorable. The woman at the front desk even said she was going to tell her sister who is pregnant she should name her baby Payton just because she was so cute. She waited patiently in the waiting room and in the pre-op room. No trauma from any previous experiences. Since it was just a relatively simple procedure on her ear, they let her keep her regular clothes on. No uncomfortable hospital gown, no IV, nothing scary at all. They brought her crayons and fun coloring sheets. She's been to enough doctor's appointments now that this just seemed to feel like one more regular visit for her, nothing to be concerned about at all. When they were ready, her doctor (who I can't say enough great things about) just casually picked her up and carried her down the hall to the operating room, talking to her calmly and making the whole thing sound like fun. She didn't have to be wheeled on a gurney and hardly had a chance to worry about being separated from me. It seemed like no time at all that we were back out in the waiting room before her doctor called me over to say she'd done great. The longest wait was while she was waking up in recovery before I could get back to see her again. I sat out there remembering how when she'd had the surgery before, we could hear her screaming in the recovery room before we even got back there. But today she was so content, no tears at all. She did have to be just a bit of her strong-willed self and refuse to drink any water in front of the recovery nurse before we could go home. Each time the nurse would step out, she would have a drink, but never in front of her. But still very quiet and calm about the whole thing. Very Payton.

She did start to cry the last 10 minutes or so on the drive home. I know she was starving and sleepy and disoriented and probably a bit nauseous too from the anesthesia and car ride, so I don't blame her at all. But it was the saddest cry. She just kept screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" and wouldn't let my mom do anything to help calm her down at all. (Here I need to interject and say I couldn't thank my mother enough for all she does for us. She also got up way too early this morning to come with us and she is even less of a morning person than I am. My mom loves Payton so dearly and would do anything for her and I appreciate that beyond words.) Payton was whiny and oppositional when we got home, but then we finally convinced her to take some Tylenol and eat a popsicle (or two) and she was back to her usual self. The recovery nurse had told me she might be a little dizzy, so I shouldn't let her walk/run around today. Clearly, she's never spent much time with an active 3-year-old. There was no stopping Payton from happily running through the house once we were home. I did finally convince her to sit on the couch and watch the movie "Up" (which incidentally still makes me cry and is all the more poignant to watch with my sweet daughter. Truly one of the best movies.) And now she's down for a nice, long nap. Success.

There were a few weird moments today when her foster/adopt story came up that I always forget to prepare myself for. When they were having me sign the initial paperwork before the procedure, the woman asked "Is she your biological daughter?" I really think she was innocently asking for documentation purposes, but I had to stop and think for a minute. "No, I'm her adopted mother." And her reply? "Okay, same difference." Yep, that's right it is :)

And then when we were in pre-op and they ask you all the questions about her medical history... Payton has an extensive medical history, but most of it occured in her first few months of life, long before we knew her. Sure, I've read her file and have a good understanding of the important things, but it's uncomfortable when you can't answer questions about your own daughter. What kind of heart surgery did she have when she was a baby? Um, open heart surgery? They fixed a hole (like there couldn't be a million different types of holes in hearts.) I know she was five months old, does that help? Do you want to see the scar?

In some ways, I love that I don't have to know all those terrible details. I love that her precarious beginning doesn't have to define her. I love that I get to share my life with this amazing, healthy, vibrant child whose worst medical ailment these days in her constant runny nose. Seriously, after everything she has been through and all the interventions, her only medication these days is allergy medicine (which isn't really helping, by the way.) And I am so thankful.

Worries

Tomorrow I'll be taking Payton in to have a minor surgical procedure to have the tube in her right ear removed. The one in her left ear worked its way out enough that the doctor was able to remove it in his office during a regular appointment months ago. But this one is stubbornly crusted on to her eardrum and it's time for it to come out. I know it's just a relatively minor procedure, but it will be at an actual surgical center and she'll be (lightly) anesthetized for a short time. I know it won't be any more or worse than when she had the tubes put in, but this time it feels so different. Last time, she had just been placed with us for a week before the surgery. I won't lie, we were already in love with her by that time, but she was still our foster baby then. I was still guarding my heart from bonding too much with her. We were still in the fog of having a new baby in our home 24/7 and being first-time parents. All the prep work had been done and we just had to show up at the hospital with her that time. This time she is my daughter. I take her to every one of her doctor appointments. She looks to me most for comfort and security. She only knows me as her mommy and I want to protect her from everything I can. So I can't help but act like an overprotective mommy because that is what she needs from me. I'm worried about her not being able to eat after midnight and being hungry and fussy in the morning. I'm worried about having to get myself and her up so early in the morning to check in at 7am. I'm worried about the almost hour drive (maybe longer depending on traffic) with this fussy child who doesn't really like long car rides. I'm worried she'll be anxious just being in a hospital setting. That it could trigger some traumatic memories from her infancy. I'm worried about having to leave her when it's time for surgery. Separation anxiety is still big for her and she's still prone to vomiting when she anticipates this. I'm worried about the drive home with a groggy, fussy toddler who still won't want to be in the car for that long. I'll just be glad when it's over tomorrow.

Emotions

Lots of emotions lately. Yesterday marked the five year anniversary of what would have been my due date of #1, my ectopic pregnancy. The strongest one, the one who seemed to have the best chance of making it if only she (we never knew for sure, but I always imagined this one as a girl) hadn't been implanted incorrectly. The fighter who made it through two rounds of a medication designed to destroy her only to just keep growing. I remember seeing her strong little heartbeat on the screen several times and feeling the unfairness of it all. It's funny, I really don't remember the other due dates, loss dates, etc, but I always remember this one. The first. The shocked that completely rocked my world and changed me forever. Also, the other day I re-found Payton's biological mother on Facebook. I had found her a long time ago and she never posted anything, so I'd stopped checking it and just wondered what had happened. Out of nowhere, I decided to check again and she had a new account this time. I wasn't even sure if it was her, but after enough snooping, I decided it must be. And here's the shocker: she has a baby girl. Looks to be around 9 months old. And it also looked like she now has custody of one of the older siblings too. The one that wasn't adopted like the rest, he just had been living with another family member by mom's choice. The baby girl's name is Payge. P-A-Y just like the beginning of Payton's name. That made me both happy and sad to think of. Happy that she must think of Payton fondly, but sad to imagine how much she misses her. I'm glad to see that she's clearly doing well, well enough to actually have two of her own children living with her. It was hard to keep out of my mind that day that I am raising someone else's biological child. Honestly, most of the time, Payton just feels like mine and such a huge part of us. She acts so much like me and only knows me as her Mommy. But that day and for flashes after, I keep seeing in her parts of those pictures of her bio mom and siblings. And this makes me feel torn. It's hard to describe the feeling. I love Payton just the same. I just feel a little guilty. I know I didn't cause the loss her mother is experiencing, but still... And I'd be lying if I didn't just say it. Part of me is disappointed. My ideal had always been that we might get a biological sibling for Payton one day. Really, I'd been surprised it hadn't happened by now. And this is why. Bio mom finally got her act together. And that is a good thing. Sad she couldn't before now, sad she'll never know this amazing little girl that is Payton. I feel awful even thinking it, but I am sad we won't be getting another child from her. I fully understand the awfulness of this statement, but it's the reality. Now we just know we'll be starting over fresh once we decide to go down the foster/adopt road again.

Potty party weekend

I decided it is time to potty train Payton. I've always believed you should never force this on a child who isn't ready and tell this to parents all the time. I'd always imagined she would just magically come to me one day and say she was finished with diapers and ready for big girl panties. I remember when she was 2 and saying, I'll just wait until she's a little more verbal so she can tell me when she needs to go. We bought potty seats and little potties many months ago. She talked and talked and talked about it. She did pee on the potty once several months ago and it scared her to death so she never wanted to even sit on it again. So I backed off and waited. And waited.

Now she's 3 years old. Very smart. Very verbal. Very strong-willed. And would happily stay in her diapers, thank you very much. I've been playing up the potty idea for the past week or so and every time I'd ask her about it, her response was inevitably "Later".

Since we finally had a free long weekend with no plans, I decide the time was right. We bought the special big girl panties (that are still huge on her- where in the world do you find tiny panties for premies?) We ceremoniously packed up all her daytime diapers to give to her baby cousin. We read countless potty books. And we dove right in.

I cannot express how emotionally exhausting this process has been for me. 36 hours later and we only have 3 successes on the amazing potty sticker chart. And even those successes were hard won. I knew she had to poop all day yesterday. She kept trying to go away and hide like she prefers to do in her diaper. But I wouldn't let her get away with it in her panties. I finally had to physically put her on the potty, crying and screaming. She cried and threw up (a trick she likes to do for me), but she eventually pooped on the potty. The one time she peed on the potty today, she was also crying. So much for the happy, special, positive panty party I'd planned.

I know I'm stressing too much about this. I know she'll get it in her own time. But I just so want the process to go smoothly for her. She's had so many uphill battles in her little life, I just want this one to be nice and trauma-free. So I tried to be more laid back about it today. I didn't set the timer for every 30 minutes this afternoon like I'd been doing. I tried to let her lead a little more. I know that's really the answer. She is so successful and so proud when she finally makes a good choice. But I also know she needs a little encouragement from us too.

I know this phase won't last forever. I know every child and every parent has to go through this. I don't know why I put so much pressure on myself. It was making me question every little thing today. Making me wonder if I'm even a good parent.

Bottom line is, it's hard. But so worth it for this sweet little girl who looks to me for everything. Who turns to me and says, "Mommy, I love you best of all."

But I'll sure be glad when this phase is over.

Life changing decision

Man, I haven't written in forever. I know when I don't write in this long that things have been settled and good. I meant to write for Payton's birthday. I thought about all the amazing things she is and does now that she's turned 3. But not even that got me writing...

Last week, I had a bone density scan. No big deal. Just because I've been on the Depo Provera shot for 3 years and there is some inconclusive evidence that it can affect your bone density. Nothing to worry about, just a precaution. Then I got a phone call from the nurse saying there was some thinning in my bones (or whatever words she used to describe it) and I won't be able to take the Depo Provera anymore. She goes on to say the doctor wrote a note wondering if I wanted to have a tubal instead.

So this throws everything into question again. I have spent these past three years blissfully ignoring my fertility (or lack thereof) and wanted to happily keep it this way. We still have a couple of months to decide since I did get a shot a few weeks ago, but I have to start thinking. And I don't like it. I liked not having to decide. I liked the idea of just putting it off and not having to make any life altering decisions for awhile.

Honestly, I'm still torn on whether I would even like to try to get pregnant again. Part of me thinks, sure, I could handle it. My first instinct was that we could try one more time and if I had yet another loss to give up forever and convince my doctor to just take it all so I don't have to think about it ever again.

But then again, could I handle it? Have I simply forgotten just how difficult it was? Would I be robbing Payton of something? Would she suffer if I had another loss and couldn't be there for her? Would she suffer if we did somehow have a biological child?

Most of these past three years have been great physically where my reproductive system is concerned. After my ectopic, I had almost daily significant pain where the ectopic was that got worse every time I ovulated or got my period. Now that I don't ovulate or get periods since going on the Depo, it's been pretty much pain free. I've had some light pain in the past month and it makes me wonder if I would be crazy to welcome this pain again by trying to get pregnant again.

I brought it up to Shannon and he was no help so far. He just said he doesn't want to get a vasectomy, which I had never considered and didn't think was an issue right now anyway. I'm sure we'll have a bigger conversation about it later, but ultimately it's up to me. And that can be scary. Such a huge decision. So much to weigh. So much to consider. Any advice out there? Anyone actually still following my blog?

Who knew?

Today I went to get fitted and buy bras for the first time in, oh, let's say about 10 years. I knew I was wearing the wrong size. But I had no idea just how very wrong it was. It's well known in my family that I've needed to do this for a long time. Truth be told, I've really just been wearing sports bras (albeit in the incorrect size too) daily for the past several years. My mom had tried to encourage me to go bra shopping several times, giving me the classic mom line, "What if you got in an accident and had to go to the hospital and they saw your bra??" Thankfully, my wonderful husband gave me a gift certificate for Christmas to a local place that we'd heard good things about.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that I went. Not only was I wearing the wrong size, I had no idea how it was truly supposed to fit/look. The saleswoman was amazing. I never had to leave the dressing room once. She took off and put on each bra for me, making sure everything was in the right place. Who knew you're supposed to lift and adjust each boob to make it actually fit correctly in the cup?? The first time I put my shirt back on and saw what a huge difference a good-fitting bra made, I was completely floored. My boobs looked perky for the first time in way too many years! It's crazy to think I've been doing such a disservice to myself for most of my adult life. Looking at myself in the correct bra actually seems to take like 10 pounds off my frame too since everything is finally so nicely adjusted :)

I'm so glad I was finally able to do something like this for myself (with some prodding along the way of course.) I feel like that's the theme of my life right now. Doing for myself, taking care of myself. I preach this to clients all the time, but I'm really trying to do this myself now. I've been doing some form of exercise almost every day for the past couple of weeks. And most of that exercising has been at my mom's house on her new exercise bike while someone else is taking care of my child. I honestly think the alone time has been just as beneficial as the exercise. I'm feeling calmer and more patient with Payton these days, something I've struggled with for quite some time. The scale isn't quite budging like I'd like yet, but I do just feel better about myself. And that is a huge accomplishment for this people pleaser who tends to put herself on the back burner.

Healthy

I took Payton to her ENT appointment this afternoon. Just a follow-up since she still has one of her tubes in her ear. She did awesome. It's so amazing to see how far she's come. From the tiny baby who screamed every time we even walked in to a doctor's office to now such a big girl who sits quietly and lets them examine her without any protesting at all. We talk about her doctors often and what she expects when she's there, which I think has helped. But really, she's just grown up so much.

It is completely amazing how healthy she is now. From such a rocky start as a tiny premature baby to now being the healthiest one in our house. She's only even had a fever a couple of times in the two years she's been with us, never been on antibiotics even once since then. She's still on a couple of daily medications prescribed by her pulmonologist, but really these are just precautionary and she's being weaned off them too. We've only had to use her rescue inhaler once about a year ago when she had a bad cough, but it's never been anything like an asthma attack.

I'm sure all this could change when she starts school next fall, but for now I am thankful and in awe of her health. We do go to playdates with other stay-at-home kids who still get sick often and so far she hasn't caught anything there. I really think it's due to how she was so very premature and so very sick as an infant. It made her a fighter. It made her stronger, in so many ways.

So proud of my sweet little fighter!

All ready for our Valentine's party this morning :)

Reconcile

I went to yoga last night for the first time in way too many months. I'm trying to do more things for myself without feeling guilty, which is difficult for me. The yoga class was good, not too strenuous. The teacher is one that I really like- she's gentle and nurturing and encouraging. Even in very large classes, she still makes it a point to touch everyone in the class, helping you stretch just a little further. While stretching me during class, she leaned over and quietly whispered in my ear, "You're not pregnant, are you?" When I shook my head no, she said something like "I remember you were before." This was a weird statement. I don't know that I ever went to a yoga class pregnant and anyway, I've never been any more than 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, so no one ever even knew. I'm sure she's just remembering that I have a young daughter and forgetting that we adopted her.

Nonetheless, the comment hit me. I try to say that I'm feeling better about all my losses, but they're still there. And they're still losses. Nothing will ever replace them. And I don't imagine I will ever be able to completely reconcile that loss, that grief. Little tears sprang to my eyes during the relaxing at the end of class last night, thinking of these little losses...

I don't think anyone else heard the comment, not even one of my best friends who was right next to me. I don't know that I'll ever mention it to anyone in my "real life". No one else gets it.

But it always feels good to share on here.

Happy Gotcha Day!

I can hardly believe it's already been two whole years since our little Sweet Pea came into our home and changed our lives forever. She has grown and changed so much, I hardly recognize her as the same tiny baby they brought to us. She was so little, so fragile, so serious and tense all the time. And now, although she's still small for her age, she has blossomed into this amazingly tough, energetic, funny little girl.

She just started sleeping in a big girl bed this week after an adventure involving climbing out of her crib instead of napping one day. We're working on potty training, although it's much more talk than action for now. She loves to "read" and will sit with books for such a long time. She knows her colors, shapes and ABC's. She's still very attached to me, but absolutely loves her Daddy and Nana too. She loves taking care of her baby dolls and stuffed animals. She loves to dance and sing and jump around our living room. She loves to play outside and has started being much braver on the big playscapes at the park. She loved Christmas just as much as I do and that was so much fun this year to share.

She wants to be a big girl so badly and tries so hard, but she is definitely still very strong-willed and has a loud opinion of her own. She hates to be hurried in the mornings and has learned how to stall at bedtimes.

Her absolute favorite book this week has been "Are You My Mother?", which I so love. It seems to play in so nicely to our adoption story and how we found each other. After everything we went through separately, we were finally brought together to make a family.

Even on the difficult days (which there surely are with a 2 1/2 year old), I am so proud to be her mother. I feel so blessed that she came into our lives and made me a mommy. Happy Gotcha Day to my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!!