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?