Christmas Card

I just created our Christmas card and am loving them this year!!

Photo Card

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Tough

Tough Mommy day today. We went to the park for a playdate with my mommy's group. We did a Christmas craft and she was so calm and quiet and well-behaved. We went to play on the playground and she was fine. Until she wasn't. Not sure what set her off, but she was screaming (not just crying a little, literally screaming at the top of her lungs) up on the playscape and wouldn't calm down. I tried going up there. Didn't help. Finally had to carry her off to the car still screaming, now kicking and hitting and biting too. Just a little embarrassing in front of all the other moms...

She screamed the entire way home. She screamed for me to turn the music off. I did. She kept screaming. So I turned the music way up. Still screaming.

I vowed I would stay calm in the situation. Reluctantly, I didn't. She kept screaming and kicking and hitting and spitting all the way inside. I got everything ready for naptime and she kept screaming. Needless to say, it didn't end well. I ended up in tears too and with a fat, bloody lip.

But now she's sleeping. Fell right to sleep. I don't know how she could have been so tired when we slept in this morning. She's definitely sleeping and eating more this past week, so we keep saying she must be growing.

We have so many pleasant moments. When she decides to be in a good mood, she is so much fun and we have the best time together.

This past hour was not our best moment. We had another bad morning last week when I had planned to put up and decorate the Christmas tree. I was in tears by the time by mom came over to help us.

I hate feeling like a bad mom. Like I'm failing my daughter.

I hope this afternoon goes more smoothly...

Happy Adoption Day!

I can't believe it's already been a whole year since we officially adopted Payton. It feels like this year has flown by and she has grown so much. Then again, it feels like she's always been a part of us. We had a low-key family celebration today to commemorate our special day. We talked a lot about special memories from a year ago and looked at pictures from the day. By the end of the night, even Payton was singing "Oh, happy adoption day!"

Reading the special book Mommy & Daddy recorded

Measuring how much she's grown

This is the blanket she was given at her adoption ceremony last year

My mom made this one special for her

Favorite meal of meatloaf and cheesy potatoes

And of course Oreo cake for dessert!

Heartbeats

How to make yourself feel young: Spend some time sitting in a cardiologist's waiting room. Then go stand in line to vote. This was my Tuesday morning and I was feeling like a very youthful 33-year-old. Then I ruined it all by spending the afternoon/evening with all teenage clients, who make me feel ancient at time. I don't know much of the music they listen to, I don't have a smartphone... I guess I ended up balanced out, but it was a long, strange day.

I decided to break down and go to the cardiologist recently because I sometimes feel my heart skip a beat. Truth be told, I've felt this off and on for at least the past ten years (possibly longer), but have denied it and never mentioned it to anyone until about a month ago. After a day that I noticed it happening several times, I asked my loving husband if he ever feels this sensation. He looked at me like I was crazy, replied no and that's not normal. Then I talked with other friends and family about it, all of whom convinced me that I need to get it checked out.

I felt silly at my first appointment, having to say this is something I've had for many years but never ever mentioned to any medical professional before. It's like I had to admit that now I finally feel like an adult and like I'm not invicible and I need to take care of myself so that I can be here for years to come. I honestly feel like the shift came when I became a mother. Once that feeling sets in, it changes you forever. I know it's cliched, but it is so true. The idea of me falling over dead one day because I never got this little heart thing checked out and leaving my child behind motherless is the main reason I finally got around to calling a cardiologist.

Chances are, it's nothing big. He couldn't diasnose me on the spot, but said it's probably PVC's and it can be quite common. He said I probably even have them more often than I notice and it can be harmless. The cardiologist even said he has this. But just to be sure, he ordered some tests. I had to wear a holter moniter for 24 hours this week (basically a device that's attached to your chest and records your heart actions the entire time.) This was uncomfortable and awkward, but not quite as bad as I had imagined.

I also had an echocardiogram (sonogram of my heart) yesterday. This was interesting. Cool to see my heart beating up there on the screen and have the tech point out all the different parts. I've seen Payton have several of these and I knew it would be no big deal. But then again, there's always that pregnancy loss side of me looming in the background. Every once in awhile during the test, she would turn on the volume and there would be the sound of my heart beating filling the room. And I couldn't help but flashback to those times when I lay on other exam tables and had very different ultrasound experiences. The times I saw my tiny babies, the times there were little hearts beating inside of me, the times we saw that those hearts had stopped beating, those times when there was nothing to see because the baby was lost. That heartbeat sound always bothers me for those reasons. We have a lullaby CD that I like a lot and used to play for Payton while she was napping when she was a little baby. The last track on that CD is just a heartbeat, like a baby would here in its mother's womb. This track always disturbed me and I actually had to re-record the CD, but without that track on it.

I'll go back to the cardiologist next week to meet with the doctor and hear the results of my tests and where we go from there. Hopefully it's nothing big. Hopefully I have a long and healthy life ahead. But either way, I'm glad I went. Glad I went to get this checked out. How grown-up of me...

Adoption conference

I went to an adoption conference today. I was there with many hats on-- as a therapist who works with foster children, as a member of our local child welfare board (who I'm so thankful to since they paid for me to attend this), but most of all, I chose to go as an adoptive mom. It's the first time I've been to an adoption conference and the most excited I've been about a training in awhile. The presentations today were good and definitely got me thinking. I'm looking forward to going back tomorrow, just wish I didn't have to drive quite so far to get back there again. (I was stuck in awful traffic on the way home and nearly ran out of gas, which is sooo not like me...)

The final presenter today was the director of the agency we used when we fostered and adopted Payton. I had never actually met her before, but had heard good things about her and enjoyed her presentation. After it was over, I took the time to go introduce myself and say thank you for her part in making us a forever family. She took one look at my nametag and knew exactly who I was and could even identify what neighborhood I live in even though it's nowhere near where we were or where she lives. That's just one reason why we loved our agency. It's been almost a year since we've had any official contact with them, but I was still treated like family by this woman I'd never even met. I'm always telling people what a great experience we had with them and we will definitely use them again when we're ready to grow our family.

Big girl

Sleep has been an issue in our house for quite a while. I remember when I spoke on the phone with the woman who ran the group foster home where Payton was placed before coming to us and she told me what a great baby she was and how she sleeps through the night. She didn't always sleep through the night with us, but she was able to put herself to sleep when she was a little baby. I can only imagine that was from being more alone in the NICU or the group foster home. But then she was our little baby and we wanted to nurture her and help her attach to us. And boy, did she attach. She got to the point where she couldn't even begin to get to sleep if we weren't right there- feeding her, rocking her, bouncing her, whatever worked. Once she started crawling and pulling up to stand, she stopped being able to put herself to sleep anymore. All she wanted to do once you put her in her crib was to practice her new skills. I remember her standing there, gripping on to her crib, not knowing how to let go and lay herself back down. So I'd pick her up and rock her to sleep.

I know we taught her these bad habits. Even after working with so many little ones through the years, we did all these things I swore I would never do with my own child. We always let her fall asleep in our arms on the couch, then moved her to bed once she was really asleep. When she cried in the middle of the night, I always got up with her and gave her a bottle (or sippy cup of her yummy, full of calories Pediasure) to help her fall back asleep. In our defense on that one, at some points our pediatrician was so worried about her low weight that she thought of having us wake her up just to feed her in the middle of the night, so it seemed like we had to get up with her every time she cried. We rocked her and bounced her and let her fall asleep in her jump-a-roo instead of her soothing herself to sleep.

And it was getting bad. She was taking forever to fall asleep on the couch in our arms lately and you just knew she was exhausted but manipulating you however she could to stay up. She was getting up multiple times in the night and just when you thought she was asleep and carrying her back to her bed, she was groggily lift her head and say "Living room. Back to couch." And you'd have to do it all over again and again until she finally stayed asleep once she lay her in bed. And you breathed a sigh of relief, but by that point you were wide awake and so frustrated with the situation.

We've talked for months about making big changes to Payton's bedtime routine and always backed down when the time came. But finally this week, we decided she was ready. Or maybe I should say we were ready. Whatever the case, we finally did it. We stopped holding her to fall asleep. We're still reading books together and drinking her cup on the couch, but then she goes to her bed by herself. We have her put her cup and books away herself and walk to her room to help give her a sense of control (this is big for our strong-willed little one). We say goodnight to everything in her room, put her in her crib, tuck her in and leave the room, closing the door behind us. And she cries. But it's working. Now, at 2+ years old, "crying it out" is finally working for us. When we used to try cry it out, she would make herself cough until she threw up in her bed. But we've done it for 3 bedtimes and 2 naptimes now and it's working like a charm. Today at naptime, she did cry/play/sing at the top of her lungs in her bed for about 45 minutes before falling asleep, but she did finally fall asleep on her own. And at bedtime tonight, she cried for less than five minutes before falling asleep! And now that we're closing her door, we don't have to hear every little peep she makes in the middle of the night. Her bedroom is right across from ours and I'm a light sleeper, so we've pretty much always heard her when she wakes up. But since we started this change, we've slept through the night too! I'm sure I could still hear her if she really needed us in the middle of the night, but she's plenty big enough to sleep through the night now.

It's gone so smoothly that I've started to ask myself why we never did this earlier. But then I have to stop and realize we weren't ready earlier and if we'd tried this a couple of months ago, it might have had a terrible response and things could have been even worse. She bigger now and able to handle so much more than I always give her credit for. I'm having to step back now and remind myself often that she's not a baby anymore and she can do so much on her own. Like she doesn't remind me. One of her favorite words is "self" as in, "Payton do it self". She doesn't do anything like a baby now. She feeds herself with her own fork/spoon, she put herself to sleep, she's potty training, she uses words to ask for things instead of crying. Yes, all these things are a work in progress and we still have days where none of these work and she cries and melts down over and over. But really, I'm so very proud of my "big girl".

Adoption world

We went today to try and change Payton's social security number. This is something our foster/adopt agency highly recommended and it was even written into our adoption court order. (The reason being that her biological family could have access this number and try to use it fraudulently.) I had heard mixed things about how successful this might be, so I went in knowing it might be difficult. The man we talked to was very nice and tried to be as helpful as he could be, but they refused to change her number. He asked his supervisor and read through the regulations closely, but it stated that there already has to some abuse or fraud to authorize changing the number. That's great-- we have to wait until Payton is older and she tries to get a job or get credit somewhere to find out that it's already been ruined. Hopefully that's not the case. Hopefully no one in her biological family would ever do that. I try to think the best, but you never know. I just want what's best for my daughter.

About a month ago, I'd been thinking a lot about Payton's biological mother for some reason. She was just on my mind, wondering where she is, how she's doing and hoping she is well. I even stalkingly looked her up on Facebook. She was surprisingly easy to find. She hadn't had anything posted on there in months, but it did have several pictures from the past year, one possibly even of Payton's siblings that live in another state with relatives. Also, under the section where it says "Who inspires you?" she had written "My kids". This struck me as both so sweet and so sad. I'm glad to know she feels this way and would be proud to tell Payton this one day. But at the same time, it's heartbreaking to know she feels this way when she is unable to parent any of them, when none of them live with her, whether by choice or not.

Around this same time, we also finally received our copy of Payton's file from CPS. Most of it was the same as what we had read at the office right before the adoption, but there was a section in the beginning outlining all the contact CPS had with various family members, etc shortly after Payton was born. There was a family member in another state who almost got custody of her, who had a plane ticket in hand to come pick her up from the NICU until they found out a major piece of negative information about that family member at the last minute. We were that close to having someone else take our daughter and we never would have met her... It also said in the file that Payton's biological father visited her at the NICU a few times right after she was born. I had never heard anything like this before. Her mom had said he was there at the birth, but I'd never known he visited her on his own afterward. He quickly fell out of the picture and was nowhere to be found by the time we got involved, but I'm glad I'll be able to tell Payton about him visiting one day.

There are so many little things like this that pop up when you're dealing with adoption. Things that people with biological children never even have to consider. And this makes me sad sometimes. At the time I was thinking so much about her biological mom, there were times I would look at Payton and think, "I'm parenting someone else's child." I remember reading in adoption books that some moms felt like this at first. I didn't at first because I was so careful to remind myself that she was a foster child at that point, not my child. I feel guilty when I think like this. Then I turn around and Payton is doing something just like me and I'm reminded that she is, in fact, my daughter.