tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77251377892501523702024-03-05T08:01:48.411-05:00"Where's Baby Lily, Mommy?"ONE FAMILY'S MISGUIDED TOUR THROUGH DOMESTIC ADOPTIONby Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-15055976054050214972016-12-16T22:48:00.000-05:002016-12-16T22:51:42.884-05:00# 92: FIVE YEARS OLD TODAY <br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 92</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Friday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">12/16/16</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As soon as "Sara" arrived home from school today, she asked for gift wrapping supplies. I gave her some scotch tape and scissors, a dozen stick-on bows, and a few selections of holiday paper. She chose a shiny blue paper decorated with snowflakes because, she explained, it looked good for both Christmas and Hanukkah. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Stay in here and don't peek in the living room," she said. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I figured Sara was wrapping presents for me, until she called out, "Mom! How do you spell <i>Yoga Bear</i>?" </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She needed my help with the bows too. The backings were difficult to peel off, even for an adult, and once I got the sticky side exposed under each bow, Sara stuck them on some surprisingly well wrapped gifts. I read the gift tags:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>To Samantha </i>(her American Girl Doll)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>To Yoga Bear (</i>a flexible teddy bear)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>To Sheepy </i>(a tiny stuffed lamb)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>To Teddy </i>(the stuffed bear she sleeps with nightly)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">To say Sara plays often with her toys is an understatement. My daughter, now age 7, has cultivated some intense relationships with these inanimate objects. Of course, she animates them herself, lending unique voices for each beloved creature. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"What's in their presents?" I asked, pointing at the new pile beneath the tree. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"I can't tell you. You <i>and</i> my stuffies have to wait for Christmas morning."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wondered if I'll miss any household objects between now and the holiday--Sara has a history of re-purposing things. For sure, Christmas morning will be interesting. Interesting to see what Sara has "chosen" from our household accumulation of stuff for her doll and animals, but more than that, I'm curious how big brother will tolerate the unwrapping of these gifts. "TJ" is now 21 and frequently reacts to Sara's make-believe play with great concern.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"This can't be normal, Mom," he says. "She's talking to the bear again. She thinks the bear is real."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"You're hurting Teddy's feelings," Sara always says in return. "Teddy is real, Brother. You're a meanie."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Once, after a particularly long sibling debate, Sara confided in me afterward. "Even if Teddy isn't real, it's still smarter of me to believe he's real. Because Brother doesn't play with me and when I'm lonely, Teddy plays with me. So, he's real and Brother's all wrong. If I had a baby sister, she'd believe in Teddy too."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"You almost had a baby sister," I said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I know. We tried. But we couldn't keep her."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I doubt Sara remembers any of her time spent with Lily, but she does remember all the stories she's heard. Today, while we snuggled together beside the tree admiring her Christmas/Hanukkah gifts, I mentioned that today is Lily's birthday. "She's five today."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"How old was she when I knew her?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"She was a baby then."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"And how old was I then?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"You were two. I have pictures of you with her. You want to see some?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sara nodded. I showed her the ones I posted earlier today on Facebook. She pointed to one of the three children together: TJ, Sara, and Lily. "Look at my face in that one. I look a little jealous. Probably because Brother's hugging her and not hugging me."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The moment reminds me of how the entire trajectory of our lives was nearly quite different. I wondered for the rest of the day what our lives would look like if we'd made a different decision. I imagined how the pile of gifts might look, if Sara would rely as much on her stuffed animals for companionship. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I let myself be lazy and spent time thinking about a little girl, now five, whose face I probably wouldn't recognize today. There's no cultural ritual for such strange loss, so I make my own way, quietly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I hope she enjoyed a fabulous birthday cake tonight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I renew my promise to write this story someday, despite the challenge of confronting my own trauma history and how it intersected with Lily's story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I fight the urge to delete all the blog posts written earlier, especially the ones filled with awful prose (and one hideous poem, composed under the influence of wine).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Happy 5th Birthday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Below is the picture of the three children (the one in which Sara thought she looked jealous):</span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15195996442301095997noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-53877499657953499352015-12-16T21:48:00.001-05:002015-12-16T21:48:23.520-05:00# 91: LILY'S 4th BIRTHDAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 91</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">12/16/15</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Lily,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">Today marks your 4th birthday. While it's hard to comprehend the passage of four years since our short time with you, so little seems to change in the land of adoption.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still see stories of babies stolen from biological fathers in the name of adoption.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still see adopted children treated like objects in the popular media. For instance, just today, a story had gone viral on the web (a video actually) of a new baby (soon to be adopted) placed beneath the family Christmas tree for the older "siblings" to find. Like a present. An early holiday surprise. Others deemed this a charming introduction of the new family member, but I squirmed with discomfort upon discovering this in my news feed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still wonder about "Baby" Veronica, who is, like you, no longer a baby.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still wonder about your biological family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still wonder about you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">Where are you? Are you still alive? I count the years until I even have the chance of finding out your fate. I count in fractions. This is 4 out of 18. Surely, at age 18, you might connect to your biological family? Maybe I will see your photo on your natural mom's twitter account? Or some other form of social media, yet to be invented. I check her online activity sometimes, like a benevolent stalker searching for some sign of you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still wonder: What do they call you now?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I still write, trying to unravel the mystery of our intersecting lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">May you be blessed with only love, health, and happiness on your fourth birthday.</span><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">Love,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer </span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15195996442301095997noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-39335349738533324842014-12-16T18:13:00.001-05:002014-12-16T18:13:10.891-05:00# 90: LILY'S 3rd BIRTHDAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 90</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Tuesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/16/14</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Lily,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is your third birthday. I hope you are celebrating somewhere with people who love and care for you. I hope you are happy and healthy. I hope that your natural mother and all members of your biological family, both maternal and paternal, are also well under the circumstances of so much loss.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The year has gone quick for me. It has been a difficult one, filled with many health challenges. Even the ostensibly enjoyable stuff, like building a new home, created more stress than joy. I have written little, and obviously, nothing here since your last birthday.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think of you often. I notice all things relating to adoption. I stare too long at the faces of little girls around your age. Perhaps we've eaten near each other in a restaurant somewhere? Is it possible you have played beside our Sara, now age five, at a local park? You are probably far away from here. Where are you?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have received a handful of comments and some emails from my readers--most ask when I'll be finishing the story here. I am struggling with this. I do intend to finish writing "Where's Baby Lily, Mommy?" The question is whether I will continue blogging it here, or continue privately, in hope of ultimately reaching a wider audience through a more traditional book. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I attended a writers' conference earlier this year. Many suggested that this story could indeed be a book, but that publishers are not likely to print something already online. So, I have suspended further posts. But I miss the online community here; I'm not quite sure how I will proceed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please say a prayer for "Lily" tonight. Her story, though she had no voice, is an important one. I hope to find the right path toward telling it fully. Each narrative, each story that helps illuminate the unethical practice of adoption in this country, is worth sharing. The challenge is how to bring these stories, mostly consumed by the minority of us online here, to the mainstream culture. The challenge is transforming the cultural schema of adoption or, at the very least, making room for new voices. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Story by story; word by word. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Birthday "Lily."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wishing you much love,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer</span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-60844292989732367162013-12-16T22:12:00.001-05:002013-12-16T22:12:18.107-05:00# 89: LILY'S 2nd BIRTHDAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 89</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Monday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/16/13</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Baby Lily,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy 2nd birthday to you, no longer a baby, but a toddler now. You probably have a different name as well, which would put you on at least name number three, and it strikes me as crazy that any toddler should have been named more times than her actual number of years old. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I still look for you in the faces of other little girls. If a child looks genetically unrelated to her parents, I tend to suspect adoption immediately. In these cases, I really study the child's face for clues of your baby face. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, I may even strike up a conversation with a parent. If they were to share an adoption story, I'd make an apt listener. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder when or if I will ever stop looking for you. It's not as if I am in ongoing pain; no, I think I am fine. I think it's just the nature of such a bizarre loss--surely it is not the normative experience--plus, I am curious. So, I predict the habit will continue on till my dying day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The chances, I think, are actually good that we might someday meet again. I recently found the daughter of my mother's ex-fiance on Facebook. This is impressive for a multitude of reasons:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) My mother was not very forthcoming about the fact that she had been engaged to someone else before marrying my father. In fact, she only told me about her broken-off engagement after I'd been married myself. This once-upon a time engagement was over 40 years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) After learning of this other man, it took me another ten years to find out his last name. Finally, a few months ago, my mother told me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) That very day, the same day of finding out his last name, I learned that the man had unfortunately passed away less than two years ago. Also, I found one of his daughters on Facebook. And then I noticed that the daughter and I have a mutual friend. And many of my friends are friends with her friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4) We connected and are now Facebook friends. Her dear mother even scanned old photos for me of her late husband, then a young man, with my then-young mother. So people save stuff. And they are happy to share! It was super exciting to see these resurrected pictures of my mom and to finally get a look at the man who almost cost me my very existence! He was indeed handsome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5) The daughter and I are planning to meet in the spring. We both almost never existed and yet--we are now connected by this immutable detail of our parents' history. AND I FOUND HER IN LESS THAN AN HOUR once I learned the last name of my mother's fiance (which, by the way, his daughter no longer shares, and still, it was easy).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tell this seemingly unrelated story now because it gives me hope that someday I will be able to find you. Finding a person is easy nowadays, given all the social media. The hard part, on the other hand, will be getting your name in the first place. But that too, I do not believe to be an impossible task. I have hope--some of that hope rests in the fact that your biological mother, according to her twitter feed, became a private investigator. Just like your maternal biological grandfather is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In any case, your footprints will be waiting. And your hospital identification bracelets. And your earliest photos. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wish you a very happy birthday, wherever you are, and hope that you are loved, healthy, and enjoying life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A Note to Readers: Please note that my writing time has grown quite narrow these last few months. This lack of output is not related to the Baby Veronica case outcome--it is merely the result of other life events (including recurring illnesses and building a new home). I intend to complete Baby Lily's story in its entirety. Thanks for your patience. </span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-60406325817537182412013-11-22T14:10:00.002-05:002013-11-22T14:10:26.074-05:00# 88: I JUST WANTED TO TAKE A NAP, BUT... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 88</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Friday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/30/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Morning Through Afternoon</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was at the Department of Motor Vehicles. I was not supposed to be at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Not even close. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was Friday--the one day of the week that I have babysitting help--and I had planned to catch up on some chores, maybe even take a nap. But Tom, who was supposedly off from work for the holidays, ran out for a business meeting early in the morning. And my father-in-law, with no prior warning, decided that this very day would be the day when TJ got his driver's permit. He appeared in my house even before I'd had my coffee and immediately dragged TJ out of bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But Grandpa," TJ protested, "I haven't even studied yet."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Study Shmuddy! Who needs to study for a driver's permit? You can study while we wait in line," my father-in-law told him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Wait!" I said. "I can't do this today. I have things I need to get done. And I'm too tired for this right now."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm taking him," my father-in-law said. "You don't need to come."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I doubt that," I replied. "I don't think he can get a permit without a parent there."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Jennifer, Jennifer<i>, </i>Jennifer. Don't worry so much. I am the grandfather. They will deal with me. Relax."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They left for the DMV, and within the hour, Tom texted me instructions to head to the DMV right away. Of course a parent needed to be there. And, I needed to bring my license and two utility bills for proof of address.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, I was so mad! I was exhausted from the new baby and the holidays. I wanted to rest. Instead, I spent <i>hours </i>at the DMV, waiting in lines and feeling totally annoyed at my father-in-law--who left upon my arrival so he could grab some lunch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">TJ and I were still waiting, when at 12:56 pm, I received this text message from Tom:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Nate and the whole clan are coming over around 2:30, after lunch.</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nate is one of Tom's best friends. The "whole clan" referred to Nate, his wife, his two daughters, his two sisters and their respective husbands, as well as his parents and parents-in-law. A grand total of twelve unexpected house guests. In addition, Tom's parents would attend the impromptu event, along with Tom's brother, his wife, and their two children, raising the head count to that of party status. I wanted to punch my husband between the eyes, but since I was still stuck at the DMV (where Tom was not stuck), I sent him back this text message instead:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I'm still here at the DMV! The whole clan is coming? I need a fucking shower! I'm going to kill your dad too! I'm stuck here for hours like a moron! On my special babysitter Friday! I need to shower before they come. Seriously. I am disgusting. I am gross. Very gross. </i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom did not empathize with my frustration. All he wrote back was:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>U have time. No cursing.</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was livid. All I wanted was a few hours to myself--already impossible--and now I had to prepare to entertain guests? At the last minute? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">TJ failed the permit test. When we returned home, he carried his despondent self straight to his room and slammed the door behind him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom, on the other hand, did not let the bad news about the permit test affect his mood: he was beaming, looking radiant as he held Baby Lily in his arms. He was eager to show her off to his friend. He smiled over at Sara, who was playing with the babysitter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I ignored Tom when he said hello (maybe I gave him a dirty look), and ran straight toward our bathroom. I wanted to check my email again (Kendra had still not replied to me), but noting the time, I hopped in the shower.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Weeks later, after Baby Lily was gone, I would remind myself of this day in an attempt to console myself. I'd convince myself that having a third child was too much for me anyway. I could barely handle a day at the DMV and some unexpected visitors that day--how could I handle a third child for the rest of my life?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i> </span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-81915578343035440242013-11-09T12:36:00.004-05:002013-11-09T12:36:19.172-05:00# 87: WHAT LOOKS LIKE A MID-LIFE LOVE AFFAIR? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 87</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Thursday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/29/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Throughout the day...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i>Pretend you were there that day, watching me from a window, observing my activity morning through night. What would you see and what would you conclude if you knew nothing further about the details of my life?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You would have seen this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A house full with me, my husband, three kids, a dog, friends and neighbors stopping by (and later that night--my aunt and uncle), holiday decorations and new toys. There was a flurry of non-stop social activity. Shared meals. Diapers changed. The mundane details of an otherwise ordinary life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You would also notice that in each and every opportunity between feedings, laundry, and conversations with others, I was engaged in a most obsessive pursuit: checking my email. You would have seen me on my iPhone, scrolling madly through my online mail. You would see a middle aged woman, surrounded by her domestic obligations<i> </i>who took each and every spare moment to check her phone again. And again. And again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And except for those captured moments--me, looking frantic and wild for something on my iPhone--<i>for someone--</i>you would be otherwise bored. There's not much intrigue associated with washing baby bottles. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But...you'd want to know what was going on with all that checking of my phone. You'd probably think I was having some secret love affair--waiting for my lover to make contact! It would explain the compulsive checking behavior.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But you would be wrong. I was waiting for Kendra to reply to my last email. I would calculate the passage of time between our previous correspondence--Kendra had always replied quickly and within the same calendar day--and I did, in fact, suffer from a feeling of abandonment by nightfall.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When my aunt and uncle arrived that evening, bringing with them a homemade Italian feast, I was so grateful for the nourishment and the distraction. We ate and we laughed. My aunt held Lily most of the night, and again, as I had noted during my mother in-law's visit, I realized I was more able to "share" Lily with others than I had been with TJ and Sara during their newborn stages. Again, I wondered whether this indicated that I loved Lily less than I did my biological children? Or, maybe all mothers hand off the third child with greater ease? Perhaps it was simply a matter of exhaustion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After my aunt and uncle left, and all the kids were sleeping, Tom practically leaped into our bed. "Come on, what are you doing? Let's go to sleep already."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"One sec," I told him, as I checked my email again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But there was nothing from Kendra. I plopped down beside Tom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Goodnight," Tom said. "I love you."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Kendra hasn't written me back from last night."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom rolled over to face me. "She's probably just busy. Don't forget, she still has two little boys she's caring for. Let's go to sleep. I'm sure you'll hear back from her tomorrow."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But she always writes back the same day."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom sighed. "Jen, come on, I'm exhausted. She's probably exhausted. Forget it for now."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Okay," I said. "I just hope she's alright."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I closed my eyes, I wasn't just worried for Kendra. It was more complicated than that. I felt the anxiety of a cast-off lover. I felt the pain of rejection. There was something humbling and humiliating about being chosen by a birth mother and then, in a mere day's time, feeling neglected by her. But what exactly did I expect from this younger woman--a daily ongoing partnership? What more could I possibly want from a woman who had already given me her baby! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-36184894127115126012013-10-19T12:40:00.002-04:002013-10-19T12:40:56.261-04:00# 86: BIRTHMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 86</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/28/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Just Before Bedtime</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a busy day with the kids and Tom's parents, I was eager to go to sleep, but I sat down to write an email to Kendra instead. It was her birthday, and I'd been thinking about her all day. This is the email I sent Kendra at exactly 9:51 pm:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Happy Birthday!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I'm pretty sure the paperwork said it is your 25th birthday today! Happy Birthday from all of us!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>It sounds like you guys had a great time on vacation. Did they decorate really well for Christmas? It must be lovely there during the holidays.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>The coupons you mentioned would be great, thanks! The next time I see Shelley, I will bring that photo album we got for you, along with some photos of Lily. Then, you can just add future photos to the album. I have to tell you, she is an eating machine! She is already almost nine pounds. Moreover, I think she is a future Olympian athlete. I have never in all my life seen a stronger baby. She is lifting her head all the time and even grabs the nipple and aims it right into her mouth! She is super coordinated already. She even looks like she is ready to scoot across the floor when we do tummy time with her. I'm telling you: future gold medalist!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Sara and TJ are really enjoying her. Sara absolutely loves watching her get her diaper changed. TJ is great with feedings, not so much diapers! Everyone is simply thrilled. My in laws met her for the first time today. They came straight here from the airport. They said she is a beautiful baby, and I told them she looks just like you. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I hope you are doing well. I think about you and your boys all the time. Our son asks about you too and he says hello. I think you have left a profound impact on him for the rest of his life. This experience seems to have matured him, as I'm sure it has all of us, in ways that leave him well beyond his peers. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I also hope that the trip with your in laws went well. In laws are never easy, even under the best circumstances! My friends and I all joke that we should co-write a book about what NOT to do to a daughter/son in law, so at least we will have a written reminder for when we are in that role someday.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>By the way, please tell your mom that her story (how her birth mom took 8 years to start a relationship with her after your mom found her) was an inspiration for one of my best friends. Also adopted, she found her birth mom a few years ago, but after initial contact, the mom declined any future type of correspondence/relationship. Your mom's story gave her hope, that maybe her birth mom will come around too someday. It's really amazing how this adoption story is touching the lives of so many people around us in so many different ways. I hope that people around you, unlike that one friend you mentioned on the phone, are responding to your experience in all this with grace, love & support. Perhaps you will even inspire someone else to not get an abortion and to choose adoption. You never know how far reaching your impact can be on others.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>One last thing--I'm so happy that we got to spend the time we did together in the hospital. I think Lily is very fortunate that we were able to connect and share her birth experience together. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Hope you ate a delicious piece of birthday cake!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the time this email was composed, I see now that I was beginning to deviate from the social worker's script: I start off with the more mundane details of feeding and diapers, but then I start sharing more personal subject matter--that I think about Kendra and hers sons all the time, that my son is having an emotional reaction to the adoption placement, and that I've thought more about our time together in the hospital. I was interested in an authentic and continuous relationship with Kendra and her boys, and I can see here, that I am beginning to share more of my true feelings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, how I felt about things then, are altogether different from how I feel about things now. For instance, my opinion on PAPs being present in the hospital and even pre-birth matching has entirely changed. I now think such methods in newborn adoption are coercive and unethical. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-88531830639809052862013-10-11T11:51:00.002-04:002013-10-11T11:51:57.605-04:00# 85: THE OTHER (PROSPECTIVE ADOPTIVE) GRANDPARENTS <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 85</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Tuesday to Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/27/11 to 12/28/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>From one day to the next...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom left Tuesday evening. She took the latest flight possible back to New York, and her departure signaled not merely the end of the Christmas holiday, but also the approaching end of the entire holiday season. The new year was imminent, and a few days thereafter marked the final day on which Lily's biological father could contest the adoption. Since we hadn't heard anything further regarding Bobby the bio-dad, the hypervigilance that guarded my heart seemed to soften slightly, and Lily began to feel more and more like a permanent family member.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We barely had the chance to feel my mother's absence on Wednesday morning, because Tom's parents returned home that very day. They had been off traveling the world, I cannot recall where, as they never stay home for more than two consecutive weeks at a time. At any given moment, they are likely en route to someplace other than home; in fact, it's hard to even call their nearby apartment a "home" outside of legal purposes; after all, they must claim permanent residency somewhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And so, almost two weeks after Lily's birth, my in-laws were coming to meet her. On the day we brought her home from the hospital, my father-in-law called with a congratulatory remark followed by an apology: "Sorry we are not around for this." To which Tom had replied, "Don't worry, we're used to it." I listened for traces of bitterness in Tom's voice, but there were none. "We're used to it," was a matter of fact for Tom. The statement was not intended to convey any underlying hurt feelings toward his parents. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When Sara was born, Tom's parents had been out of the country on a vacation. They were not around the two weeks she had spent in the neonatal intensive care unit. Their absence from significant life events never seems to bother Tom; he merely shrugs it off, as if expecting otherwise would be akin to betting on a nonexistent number at the roulette wheel. He's a practical man. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When they arrived, my mother-in-law took to Baby Lily with much enthusiasm and warmth. She held her for hours, snuggled her, fed her--I was surprised but grateful. This same woman had scrunched her nose in disgust when Jim and Tracey had adopted Ricky, saying, "I could never do it. I couldn't love it."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I watched her gazing at Lily's face. She couldn't get over Lily's beauty, and this seemed to please her very much. When I showed my mother-in-law a picture of Kendra, the natural mother, there was a gasp, followed by, "I cannot believe it! She is gorgeous. Like a supermodel!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My father-in-law nodded in agreement. "She is very pretty and the baby is very pretty too, but Sara will always be the number one granddaughter."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could have pointed out that family is not a competition, but I didn't. And maybe the truth about all families is that competition is inevitable, lurking beneath achievements and disappointments, carried by sibling rivalry, reinforced by parents across all cultures. I felt powerless to stop a dynamic that was already unraveling: Lily might be adored or praised, but she would always be considered inferior to our other children. I wondered if Lily might have been better off in a family that had no biological children in the home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just as I was doubting Lily's placement with us, my mother-in-law said, "You are so lucky, Jen. Two kids are not enough. Three kids is a perfect family. All of my friends with less than three wish they had more now. I'm telling you, three is the best amount."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mother-in-law held Lily all day. I took a shower, caught up on some household tasks, played with Sara. Once in a while, I'd peek in to check on Lily and my mother-in-law would smile saying, "I just love babies."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was such a surprise. I could not recall her gushing and cooing over TJ or Sara like that. But then it hit me: I never let her hold TJ and Sara like that. I never gave her the opportunity. I clung to my own flesh and blood fiercely and selfishly. I didn't share my babies easily. Not with anyone, really, except for Tom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was not the same mother with Lily. I was a different mother, an inferior mother. In a later conversation with Zeni, one of my two best friends, she asked me if it felt different to adopt. And all I could say was, "I don't know yet. I'm not sure if I'm protecting my heart from a possible loss, or if I'm going to feel less love for Lily forever."</span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-74049324206349883132013-09-01T20:48:00.003-04:002013-09-01T20:48:37.517-04:00# 84: BACK TO BABY LILY'S STORY <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 84</b></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/26/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Afternoon</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was the day after Christmas. Our nephew, Max, was playing with Sara in our family room. He was excited about all the new toys in the house, and I watched as Sara gave him the tour of her new kitchen set.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Look what Santa brought me," she said.</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sat on the couch, holding a sleeping Baby Lily in my arms. I heard Max lower his voice down to a whisper. He looked over at me, and with a smile wider than his face, he said to Sara:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"There's no such thing as Santa."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, Max looked back over at me. I was surprised at the degree of anger boiling inside me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Really, Jen? You feel this much anger toward a child who is only on the brink of turning five?</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, I was mad. There was no good way to intervene at the moment, but Sara, weighing only 21 pounds at 2 years of age, was articulate enough to handle things by herself: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Santa's real. You silly Max! He brought me my kitchen. Look..." she said, her hand pointing at the evidence.</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Max would not let up. I had already discussed this issue with him--after a previous attempt he made at killing Santa. He knew the topic was off limits. My husband, Tom, and his family are Jewish, and despite the fact that I consider myself agnostic, I was raised in a Catholic family and do enjoy carrying on the holiday traditions. I had hoped Tom's family would respect my wishes regarding the Christmas holiday. And I had already spoken with my brother and sister-in-law, Sam and Diana, more than once about it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Max, I think it's time to go home now," I said. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No!" he cried. "I promise I'll play nice."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Within minutes, Sara and Max were playing dress-up. Sara donned her new chef's costume, and Max was running through the rooms sporting a pair of pink fairy wings. I put Baby Lily back in her bassinet and grabbed my iPhone to capture it all on video. After recording a good twenty seconds or so, I sent the video off to Sam and Diana, knowing that seeing their son parade around in a fairy costume would be unsettling for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My intentions were not kind. I wasn't seeking revenge merely over Santa Claus. I was boiling mad over years of indecent behavior--stuff I never seemed able to nip in the bud in the moment. This included but was not limited to them making derogatory remarks, both direct and indirect, toward TJ, mostly pertaining to his involvement in musical theatre. Their tone was always comedic, but it housed a real hostility toward our son--and one that implied he was somehow not "masculine" enough for their own taste.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was petty and completely unfair to little Max--but I sent the fairy-winged video off to my in-laws. With glee and without much guilt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those days with Baby Lily were like living within a kaleidoscope of emotions: Tilt things one way, and <i>happiness </i>made an outline around <i>anxiety</i> mixed with <i>exhaustion</i>. But shake things up a bit--and suddenly--I could see nothing but a mass of <i>confusion</i>. And whatever <i>anger</i> I experienced, well, most of it was directed at Sam and Diana. I'm sure a lot of it was justified, but it took on a life of its own, and started to impact my actual behavior toward them (and not just my feelings about them). It was not merely their history of insensitive remarks, and it was not just their almost complete isolation from Baby Lily; no, it was much more. It was, one might argue, a part of my own imagination, because as I peered into the future, a future that included raising a child who had suffered the most primal of traumas, I feared my in-laws' future behavior. It didn't matter if it hadn't happened yet; it seemed enough that what had already occurred was like a line cast out in front of us all--a path that was inevitable and most unfriendly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The latest insult had occurred a few days prior, but Sam and Diana were still retelling the story as if it were material destined for a stand-up comedy act.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is what happened:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sam had come to meet Lily (finally) and he brought little Max with him. It was a quick visit, and would be the only time Tom's brother would spend with Lily. Sam questioned little Max about Lily's origins:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You see Uncle Tom and Aunt Jenny's new baby? But where did she come from? Aunt Jenny didn't have a baby in her belly, so how did she get here?"</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Max replied,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I think they found her on the street. Someone left her there, and she was all alone, so they took her home."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Max's interpretation of Lily's pending adoption was not ill-willed; in fact, it was probably an age-appropriate fantasy to explain the inexplicable. What was upsetting, on the other hand, was the pleasure everyone seemed to take in the retelling of Max's explanation. I worried about this story's inclusion in the ongoing family narrative. How would such a family "tale" impact Lily as she grew up? Would it make her feel like a piece of discarded garbage we had found on the street?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps if the family history had not been punctuated with so much insensitivity and ignorance. Perhaps if Sam, and later, Diana, had allowed themselves a little laughter over Max's innocent story, but then had demonstrated some empathy for Lily by explaining the reality of Lily's adoption story in an age appropriate way. Perhaps if they didn't keep retelling and laughing at the story that, in my vulnerable state of mind, felt like sheer cruelty at the expense of an innocent baby girl. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe, under more gentle circumstances, I would have felt differently about Lily's future place within our extended family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But things happened the way they did. And I wondered if other adoptive families shared similar struggles. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The odds seemed to be stacking up against Baby Lily's best interest:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She had been relinquished by her natural mother.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her natural father was allegedly a terrible person.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now, our family--her prospective adoptive home--seemed destined to fail her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"We need to move off of this street," I later said to Tom. "This is too incestuous, having your brother a few houses away. It's beginning to feel like the Jewish version of the show 'Everybody Loves Raymond' except that it's not very funny. Not funny at all. And I'm not even Jewish."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I showed Tom the video I had recorded of Max in the fairy wings. I expected him to react with disgust, discover that I am some kind of horrible person. We'd have a fight over his family. Instead, he laughed:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That's pretty funny. They totally deserve it."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was hope, then, not only for Baby Lily, but for our marriage. Finally! I had won a battle against Tom's most impenetrable superpower: his loyalty toward his family of origin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-34445983460374118242013-08-21T10:50:00.002-04:002013-08-29T19:00:20.668-04:00# 83: STANDING MY GROUND FOR VERONICA BROWN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 83</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>8/21/13</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>9:45 am</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As far as I am aware, the Veronica Brown custody battle is currently in some kind of mediation process. As both parties are under a gag order, there is little information to be had. This is probably best for Veronica, and likely protects her from a media frenzy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, I am personally breathless waiting to learn the outcome of this case. I have purposefully delayed writing anymore of the Baby Lily narrative. As my readers are already aware, my last several posts, all pertaining to Veronica Brown, represent an unprecedented and sudden shift from the straight narrative form of this blog. At this time, I am going to post something pertaining to our story, but out of our story's narrative order of things, because I would like to share an alternative response to a contested adoption with the adoption community and the general public who is (and all should be) interested in such matters.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The following is the exact communication I wrote to our attorney after learning that the birthfather of Baby Lily was contesting her adoption. New readers of this blog should not assume that Lily was thereafter returned to her birthfather. Adoption law, as it currently stands, has too much room for unethical practice. And neither we nor either biological parent ended up with Baby Lily. I do promise to get on with the Baby Lily story soon, and return to the last chronological point of things, but for now, here are the exact words I wrote to our attorney:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>We do NOT want to fight a legal battle with a birth parent who wants his child. Married or not </i>[the attorney thought "our case" was winnable because the birthfather was unwed, and furthermore, the birthmother was married to a different man],<i> it does not sit well with us and we don't even know his side of things. Our only hope is that he does not truly want to parent this child, and is angry about being left out of everything. Otherwise, we don't see how our continued participation in this matter is justified. We may be the best home for Lily, and our hearts are broken for sure, but we need a swift and clear resolution. We are simply devastated for Kendra as well. But we cannot risk losing a child at any later point in time. It would be unfair to Lily and our other two children. Please advise.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even now, as I read what I wrote then, I am ashamed of the line, <i>"Our only hope is that he does not want to truly parent this child..."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After all I have now learned about adoption, I would not wish for anyone's biological parent to not want them. If I could rewrite that sentence now, it would read:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I do not wish for either of Lily's natural parents to relinquish their daughter. But, if the natural father is truly not interested in parenting this child, and is angry about being isolated from this adoption process, well then, that is the only situation in which I see this adoption possibly moving forward.</i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With the exception of the above revision, and the line <i>"we may be the best home...", </i>I am able to look upon the rest of my original words knowing that I had Lily's best interest in mind, and showed a concern for all the involved parties. I understood immediately that entering into a legal battle with Lily's natural father could never be in her best interest because:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) Court cases and appeals processes take very long. This would place Lily at risk of having to be removed from our care years into the future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) How would we ever explain to Lily that she was adopted because we fought her biological parent in court?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) Although all the professionals involved in this case thought we were the "best home" for Lily, a family involved in a legal battle, by definition, will endure psychological, financial, and emotional turmoil; therefore, such a home would hardly be a "best home" for anyone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4) And...how could anyone say we were the "best home" for Lily in the first place? Should we start redistributing the nation's children based upon some person in power identifying better, best, and most best homes? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now, I am off to Google "Baby Veronica" news and hope I find an update that is truly serving Veronica Brown's best interest, that is morally sound, and is founded on truth, love, and empathy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Have a great day,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer :)</span><br />
<br />by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-60059714797482150162013-08-11T19:33:00.001-04:002013-08-11T19:33:40.149-04:00# 82: IT'S NOT WRITER'S BLOCK...IT'S BABY VERONICA SHOCK<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Veronica Brown with her father Dusten Brown</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 82</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Sunday</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>8/11/13</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>7:20 pm</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been unable to continue writing Baby Lily's story. I will return to the story eventually, but for now, my apologies for this ongoing hiatus.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I simply cannot manage the retelling of an unethical adoption story that has already run its course--that is already over and done with--while the unethical adoption of Veronica Brown is taking place. Baby Lily's story is important too, of course, but Veronica Brown needs your help <i>right now</i>!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please sign the petition linked in my previous post. Please call the politicians and demand a hearing to consider the best interest of this child. Please, if you have derived anything--pleasure, information, etc. from reading this blog--I beg you to educate yourself on Veronica Brown's case and help save her from an unethical adoption. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You can also join the Facebook page "Standing Our Ground For Veronica Brown" for further information.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer </span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-61212322952053534002013-07-26T19:22:00.001-04:002013-07-26T19:31:03.922-04:00# 81: PLEASE SIGN THE PETITION FOR BABY VERONICA BROWN! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 81</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Friday</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>7/26/13</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>7:04 pm</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Readers of this blog are surely aware by now that I almost never break from the Baby Lily story to comment on other adoption news. Unlike other adoption blogs, "Where's Baby Lily, Mommy?" has remained exclusively a personal narrative since its beginning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />But I would be telling "Lily's" story in vain if I ignored this call to action.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I urge you to please sign the petition to save Baby Veronica from an unethical adoption. For more information, please see my prior post (#80).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Together, we might make a difference and help preserve this family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And after you sign the petition, please copy and paste the link to your own blog. And so on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To sign the petition:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/intervene-adoption-veronica-brown-and-uphold-indian-child-welfare-act/0zZtRttY">CLICK HERE!</a></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer :)</span></i>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-70772270573659902902013-07-18T12:32:00.001-04:002013-07-18T15:36:17.413-04:00# 80: DEAR BABY VERONICA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 80</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Thursday</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>7/18/13</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>This morning</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Baby Veronica,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first thing I did this morning, even before getting out of bed, was Google the words "Baby Veronica" to see if there were any updates regarding your court case. And there were. I already knew that the Supreme Court of the United States ruled against the application of the Indian Child Welfare Act (a federal statute) in your case. They did not decide on your final destination, however, and sent your case straight back to the state level to make that determination.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning, I learned that after living with your biological father for the past one and a half years, the court has ordered you to return to the prospective adoptive parents--the people you lived with during the first two years of your life. I'm upset. For so many reasons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) I don't know why so many news reports and articles refer to the prospective adoptive parents as the <i>adoptive parents. </i>You were never adopted in the first place. Your prospective adoption was contested by your biological father. Who are these "news" people who can't even get their facts straight? I imagine even a high school student in a journalism class ought to get an "F" for such a grand mistake. And it is a gross error. It impacts how the general public interprets your case--it causes the masses to rise in indignation against your biological father. By incorrectly referring to the Capobiancos as your adoptive parents, the media has created a blindfold over the truth. People cannot see because they have already decided that you belong, officially and legally belong, to a family other than your biological one. General public opinion impacts real and concrete laws and practices regarding adoption. If public opinion is formed in the absence of truth--well, as a society, we are setting ourselves up for more obfuscation. I am sorry that facts of your life have been misrepresented across the country. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) I am so terribly sad that you are ordered to leave the home of your biological father. No matter one's legal opinion on your case, you are a little girl who is about to be taken away from her father. I was really sad for you when you were removed from your first home as well. I look at my daughter, Sara, who is only a few weeks younger than you and I cannot imagine her being tossed around like an object. It's so unfair and you didn't do anything to deserve this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) If your situation is hard for me to process and leaves me with moments of ambivalence, well, I worry about you--how will you make sense of all this? After reading a recent article that your biological mother wrote, I felt empathy for her struggle in this. I was rooting for your biological dad, but then I felt confused. I didn't know which side to take anymore. It was a short-lived reaction, of course, because within the hour, I was back to rooting for your biological father. I didn't want you to suffer the lifelong trauma of being adopted. I worry how you will integrate the knowledge that the Capobiancos fought against your biological father. You will be dependent on the Capobiancos. If you go to live with them, you will be dependent on them for all your basic needs, from food to love. You will be faced with psychological sabotage when you are old enough to understand how you came to be adopted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4) Growing up is hard, but now each and every developmental stage you encounter will be even harder. I worry about potential attachment issues. How will you ever feel secure when you have been ripped away from your earliest caregivers not just once, but twice? When you reach school-age, I worry how your peers will speak about you. Your case is now famous. Your development has been usurped. I hope your future classmates, their parents, and your teachers are sensitive to you. I am sorry that the perception others have of <i>who you are </i>will exist prior to actually knowing you. With these words, I too am making assumptions about your future. I worry that people will interpret your behavior, your emotions, the very essence of <i>who you are </i>according to their opinion of your adoption situation. I am sorry that your unfortunate circumstances have denied you freedom, that your life has started under this great shadow. I hope the sun shines brighter around you so that you will feel its warmth despite this great shadow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5) I'm super angry that the state court made a decision without even considering what would be in your best interest at this time. I believe this is a reflection of our society in general, not only in adoption. We live in a culture where children are truly the ultimate marginalized population. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6) Much of your case has caused debate over the Indian Child Welfare Act. I do not wish to diminish the significance of whatever impact this case has on Native American rights. I am sorry, however, that the use, then later deemed misuse of a federal statute has possibly clouded a right even more basic than a cultural heritage. We are children of our biological parents first and foremost, before accounting for the larger cultural group we have descended from. There is a lot of hair splitting over percentages--some people think you are indeed entitled to be protected under the statute, others think you are not Cherokee enough. I suspect your father simply wanted you, and the lawyers involved thought this was a means of saving you from adoption. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7) I am saddened that so many people are happy that you are to be removed from your biological father. Online message boards are inundated with celebratory comments. Even if your dad made legal mistakes regarding establishing his paternity during your fetal development, I cannot believe he has no right to his child. It's not like he came along four years later. He did not want you to be adopted. He came along before you were adopted. I hope people will forgive your father for whatever personal failures contributed to this outcome. He is and will always be your biological father. You have a right to love him. You have a right to know that he loves you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">8) I worry that someday you will hate the Capobiancos for fighting your biological father. I am having a had time understanding how anyone would want to force a child away from a biological parent. It is hard to remain non-judgmental of your future adoptive parents. I was in a similar situation to the Capobiancos but made a very different choice. I am their antithesis. I am trying to find potential redeeming qualities in a prospective adoptive couple who chose to fight a biological parent. It is hard for me because I was in such a situation and did not make such a choice. I want to believe the Capobiancos are good people. I am trying to understand their course of action though it bewilders me at the moment. I will keep trying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9) I'm angry at the legal system. I wonder if there was ever an early conversation between all parties outside of lawyers and courtrooms. When your biological father contested the prospective adoption, did the Capobiancos try to talk to him? Will they speak to each other now? Will all involved parties be able to come together on behalf of your best interests? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">10) The irony of the United States Supreme Court's naming of this case is just too much. The case is called <i>Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl. </i>Shame on you SCOTUS for mislabeling the Capobiancos. They are not the adoptive parents. At least not yet. Please see item number one on this list. I can hardly bare to reiterate why the misuse of language is dangerous here. Federal Supreme Court case law with a misleading title! Moreover, it is noteworthy that the case is <i>v. Baby Girl. </i>Just think about it. I am sorry, Baby Veronica, that your situation is even misrepresented on this level. You surely are worth better care and consideration than this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In conclusion, I wish Baby Veronica all the love, strength, and intelligence that will be required to navigate a lifetime of adoption trauma, public knowledge of that trauma, as well as these multiple early losses. I hope all the adults in your world will find a way to preserve your connection with your biological family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Author of "Where's Baby Lily, Mommy"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and Former Prospective Adoptive Parent </span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-14157398857503006062013-07-16T13:53:00.004-04:002013-07-16T13:53:56.715-04:00# 79: MERRY CHRISTMAS: SAVING GIFTS FOR LILY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 79</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Sunday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/25/11</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Merry Christmas</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Santa had been generous. TJ got an assortment of gifts, but only really cared about the tickets to Broadway shows. Sara got a toy kitchen set. Baby Lily finally got her bouncy chair.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sara was overwhelmed, but in a good way. The toy kitchen included three separate pieces: a </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">sink, a refrigerator, and a stove. When I asked her what Santa had brought, she exclaimed, "The <i>whole </i>kitchen!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was a bunch of toy appliances, plastic foods, a wooden apple pie. Even a chef's costume. I watched Sara explore the kitchen's contents and imagined how Lily would play alongside her in a year or two. They would be sisters, only two years apart. They would play together with this kitchen set for years to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Baby Lily was settling into our home and daily routine, but more than that, she was taking up a spot in our future. Even now, it sometimes feels like she has a a seat here, unoccupied, waiting. It's like the roped off, empty chairs one finds at a theatre or concert. Always these reserved spots are in the first few rows. You're scrambling to find a chair, an unobstructed view, but there is no good spot left, and you envy whoever is getting that special place where no one else can sit. But sometimes, the people never show up. The best seats, wasted on no one, casting a great void between the rest of the audience and the performers on stage. You have to wonder if the show will even be as good in the absence of any front row energy. <i>Why didn't they show up? They had the best seats in the house! </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But that Christmas morning, things were so busy with three kids--it was easy to forget that Lily was not <i>our </i>baby, and that we had no right reserving a place for her in our home. There had been no further action from Lily's biological father, but it was the holidays. People got busy. Public offices were closed down. We should have stayed vigilant, but the reality of an infant in one's arms is a powerful distraction from what hasn't happened yet and only <i>might </i>happen in the days to come. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I unwrapped a gift from my mother. It was a pair of earrings. They were Lily's birthstone. They matched the color of the necklace I had chosen for Kendra. Two pieces of sparkling blue, each shaped like Mickey Mouse's head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom looked at me, waiting for my reaction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I got those because you were supposed to be in Disney World when Lily was born. And they are Lily's birthstone of course."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Disney World! The trip I had been planning before Lily was born, before we even knew about Kendra's pregnancy. The trip I had cancelled when we learned of the sudden adoption opportunity that seemingly came out of nowhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"They're perfect," I said. "Thank you."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom frowned. "I didn't know whether I should still give them to you. You know, now that we found out he signed the registry and all."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No, no, it's fine. I'm glad you did. No matter what happens, I'll be happy to have them."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I do still have those earrings. I never wore them and I never will. They wait in my closet, another artifact, another tangible item of proof that Baby Lily was once here. I will not wear them, but I will keep them. I will save them alongside Lily's newborn footprints, her hospital identification tag, and whatever else I have from her first few weeks of life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's probably a doomed gesture of optimism, keeping these things; a symptom of pathology better suited for hoarders. I am typically inclined to purge rather than hold on to stuff (with the exception of books and photographs).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I make excuses. Rationalization comes easily. The earrings, the documents--they are a part of this story. They are just as important as the pages of this book. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The truth is that I know better. The truth is that I harbor a secret wish--that someday, somehow, Lily will want to meet us. She will find us, visit us, ask to learn the details of her earliest moments. She will want to know why we didn't keep her. It's a question she will surely want to ask her biological mother. But she will wonder, "How could this have happened to me <i>twice</i>? How is it I came to be given away more than once?" A hideous truth--to have been handed off not only once, but then, <i>again</i>?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If that day ever comes, I will be able to provide her with more than a short, simple answer. It will all be documented in this writing. I will be able to provide her baby footprints. And I will definitely give her the earrings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the other hand, it is unlikely that Lily will ever know of her time spent here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I will keep the earrings for her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just in case.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-6882177679536900962013-07-09T14:22:00.001-04:002013-07-09T14:22:51.512-04:00# 78: CHRISTMAS EVE DAY IN THE PEDIATRIC EMERGENCY ROOM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 78</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Saturday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/24/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Christmas Eve Day</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Approximately 3:00 pm</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It turns out that Christmas Eve Day is an optimal time for visiting the pediatric emergency room. The place was empty when we got there. No other babies or kids or anxious parents. Just me, Tom, and Baby Lily.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Where is everybody?" I wondered aloud.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom shrugged. "At least it won't be a long wait."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I mean, there can't be less emergencies just because it's a holiday," I said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"The pediatrician said the ER will likely fill up later. Typically gets busier at night."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I guess. Or maybe parents are more likely to neglect a medical issue on a holiday. Unless it's like a blood gushing situation or something. Too much to get done on Christmas Eve. Too many guests coming for dinner."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We didn't have time to speculate further--we were already getting called back. The medical area was also empty--Baby Lily was the sole patient of the hour!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A nurse took Lily's vital signs. Tom held her while I explained the problem.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Her belly button is not looking so good," I started. "It's oozing a ton of pus and it's quite red and we're worried that it might get infected."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The nurse noted that Lily didn't have a fever. "She's your first baby?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No, she's number three," I said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I figured the nurse thought we were over-reacting first time parents, but she didn't act too surprised when I mentioned we had other children. What did throw her, however, was when she asked how old the other two are.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Our girl is two and our boy is sixteen."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You have a two-year old, a sixteen-month old, and a newborn? That'll sure keep you busy!" The nurse smiled.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"No, our son is sixteen <i>years</i> old," I corrected her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"A teenager! You have a teenager? When did you have him? When you were in junior high?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was tempted to say yes but took the compliment instead. Sure I was young when TJ was born (age 21), but I don't look <i>that </i>young. In fact, I thought I was aging quite rapidly under our current circumstances.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the nurse left, we waited for the doctor. This took longer than one might expect given that the place was deserted. Tom held Lily. I checked the time on my iPhone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"This is ridiculous!" I exclaimed. "Where the hell is the doctor?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I don't mind waiting. In fact, I'd stay here all night. It could be the best Christmas Eve ever. I don't have to listen to your mom and TJ arguing. I finally have some peace."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Come on, I think everyone's getting along pretty well considering the stress we're all under."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But it's so much nicer and calmer in here." Tom kissed Lily's cheek. Then he looked up at me and mentioned Bobby the bio-dad: "Where's that interloper now? Huh? We're taking care of his baby, but where the hell is he? If he ends up contesting this adoption, I'd like to know where the hell he was hanging out this Christmas while we were taking care of his baby."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The doctor finally arrived, and he took a quick look at Lily's belly button. He didn't think it was problematic. We were told to continue cleaning the umbilical stump, etc. There was nothing to worry about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom was feeding Lily. The doctor's exam had woken her up. She took down the whole bottle and was fast asleep again before the doctor stopped talking. "It's always better to be safe than sorry," the doctor went on, "cause you never know. It was the right thing to come in and have her checked out." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Yeah, well, our pediatrician was already closed for the day." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom was trying to get a burp out of Lily, who was totally asleep upon his chest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Formula really knocks them out," the doctor said. "Breastfed babies never sleep as much."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I know," I said. "I breastfed our other two. But we're adopting Lily. So, formula it is." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />The doctor raised his eyebrows. "Wow, you guys are brave. Lots of people would be afraid of adopting a newborn because of fetal alcohol syndrome."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And with that he wished us happy holidays and the best of luck with Lily.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shortly afterwards, as we drove back home, I asked Tom what he thought of the doctor bringing up fetal alcohol syndrome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Do you think he noticed something about Lily? Maybe he noticed something wrong with her?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom scolded me for being ridiculous. "If he noticed something was wrong, he'd have to tell us. That's his job. And anyways, our pediatrician said she's perfect."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, you can't always tell, you know. I mean, there are physical signs in more extreme cases. But no one can really know the effects of any amount of alcohol use on the fetus. And Kendra <i>did</i> drink until she found out she was pregnant. And she didn't find out until the 9th or 10th week. That's practically the end of the first trimester!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom patted my knee. "Lily's fine. She's totally fine. She just has a yucky belly button right now."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We made it back home in time for Christmas Eve dinner. My mother had prepared the table and TJ and Sara were excited to start celebrating.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After dinner, we sat around the Christmas tree and I held Lily on my lap, facing out so she could see the Christmas tree lights. TJ was singing a Christmas song, and Lily seemed mesmerized--either by the music or the twinkling lights or both--but where was Sara? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't see my toddler come running toward us until it was too late. Sara clutched a red stuffed doll in her hand. It was an Elmo doll. Sara's hand swung back and then--boom!--she hit Baby Lily straight on the head with Elmo.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was too shocked to speak, but TJ, who had witnessed the whole assault, was first to reprimand his little sister:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Sara! That's not nice! Santa's watching you and you're not gonna get any presents if you hit Lily. You better say you're sorry."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sara pouted. "No!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">TJ moved closer to Sara and shook his finger at her. "You better say you're sorry, Sara. Santa's watching!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sara sighed. "Okay," she said and turned back around to face me, Lily and Elmo:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm sorry Elmo."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, she grabbed Elmo and rubbed and kissed his head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Elmo's all better now," she assured us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I couldn't help but laugh. Tom and TJ were roaring as well. Only my mom looked concerned. "She's a naughty little thing, isn't she?" my mom said. "She needs more discipline!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"On the contrary," I said. "Sara's totally normal and that is probably the most normal thing that's happened around here since we took Baby Lily home. Sara's behavior is entirely appropriate for her age. It's the rest of us who don't know what to do in this situation!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it really was true. Sara's acting out normalized the whole adoption process. It actually made everything feel, well, as it should be. What parent hasn't had an older sibling feel threatened by the sudden appearance of a new baby in the home? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I'm sorry Elmo!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was the comic relief in a tragic journey. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-14838762001827867102013-07-05T20:47:00.001-04:002013-07-05T20:47:58.075-04:00# 77: LITTLE GIRLS EVERYWHERE, SHE COULD ONLY STOP AND STARE <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 77</b></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/23/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Later that night</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i>The email from Kendra appeared in my inbox at 10:44 pm. I read through it quickly first, then over again slowly, many times.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This communication was just as warm and friendly as her previous interactions with me, but my heart sank when Kendra described how she thought about Lily all the time. Especially when she saw little girls walking around. Or little girls' clothing in a store window. And that she tried to imagine how Lily might look in the future. She mentioned the pictures of Lily on her iPhone, all taken during their short time together in the hospital after delivery. These pictures were all she had now. And she looked at them constantly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although Kendra said she was having a nice time on vacation, I just didn't believe it. I imagined a shell-shocked young woman--only one week postpartum!--strolling around a festive holiday destination, trying to blend in with her husband's family, the Christmas festivities, a normal life. It seemed impossible and cruel. I was exhausted just thinking about it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kendra also addressed the issue of Bobby the bio-dad. She told me not to worry about him, things would work out, and that she would do whatever it took to make sure Lily gets the life she deserves. She expressed her desire for Lily to have a happy and healthy life, and then thanked me again for "everything."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a paradox adoption is! For how can a birthmother ever ensure that her child will get the best life--a healthy and happy life--when she is giving her child away to total strangers? And how sad--that a woman should feel her child's "best life" would be with someone other than her real mother. All parenthood is an enormous responsibility, but adoptive parenting was beginning to seem so much harder. Would my love ever be enough? Was a happy and healthy life even possible for a child after relinquishment? It seemed Lily would always be marked by trauma, and I doubted my ability to alleviate her inevitable suffering. I was overwhelmed, but found some comfort in the fact that I was at least willing to admit it. I wondered if other adoptive mothers acknowledged the inherent trauma so soon after taking home a newborn. And if so, how did they handle it over the course of a lifetime?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As for the rest of Kendra's email, she promised to give me some formula samples she'd received in the mail. And some coupons too. She said she would drop these things off at at the attorney's office for me. I wondered if she'd prefer to give me the stuff directly. Maybe she hoped for an invitation to do so? Or, perhaps this was her way of trying to set a boundary with me? Was this her way of letting me know that she would prefer for things to go through the attorney instead? That she didn't want so much direct contact with us? Of course, it was also plausible that I was over analyzing things, and there was no hidden meaning in the email whatsoever. Perhaps she simply had some baby formula and some coupons and dropping it off at the attorney's was merely the course of action that first occurred to her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a confusing state of affairs!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One certainly does not receive a secret decoder pen when adopting a newborn. The only way to know anything for sure would be to simply ask Kendra. But this seemed too invasive at the time. I was afraid of putting pressure on Kendra. I was terrified that I would become unable to differentiate my own expectations from Kendra's personal needs. It wasn't just that I was afraid of asking specific questions--I was afraid that my asking <i>anything</i> might somehow be damaging or painful. I didn't know how to communicate with Kendra without the social worker's stupid script. I was, in fact, afraid. And this fear would penetrate all my future interaction with Kendra--ultimately culminating in a moment of great cowardice on my part. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-57856549029615956512013-07-01T14:43:00.001-04:002013-07-01T14:43:17.038-04:00# 76: BUTTERFLY WINGS AND OTHER THINGS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 76</b></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/23/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Afternoon</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We decided to order our entire Christmas Eve and Christmas dinners from an Italian restaurant. Nobody felt much like cooking, and anyhow, we had already cancelled our invitation to extended family and friends. The holidays would be a quiet affair this time around: just our immediate household plus my mother, who was still visiting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wondered whether Kendra and her boys would ever celebrate a future holiday with us. There was no way to predict how our now overlapping families might relate in the future, but I craved a connection with Lily's birthmother as if she were <i>my birthmother! </i>I would send Kendra an email, then check my inbox compulsively until I received a reply. I was like a silly teenager waiting for a boy to call after a first date. Looking back now, my desperation seems bizarre. What could I have possibly wanted from this young woman who had already handed me her own flesh and blood? Sure, I told myself that I wanted to preserve Lily's connection to her natural family, and this was indeed true, but there was something else--something more personal at stake<i>. </i>I needed Kendra--<i>I myself</i> wanted a relationship with Kendra. Because without Kendra, I felt like a kidnapper. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What ridiculous expectations! To think that Kendra might help take care of me! Kendra, who for whatever her reason(s), did not think she could take care of her own baby! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, on the day prior to Christmas Eve, I was hardly struck by this irony. Instead, I typed out the following email and sent it off into cyberspace at exactly 3:06 pm. I don't think my neediness was at all obvious; on the contrary, I was still following the <a href="http://abortedadoption.blogspot.com/2013/01/63-on-becoming-puppet-or-script-for.html">"Script for Chatting with your Baby's Birthmother."</a> My overall tone was upbeat and warm, sharing not much more than the mundane details of caring for a newborn. Eating! Sleeping! Just as the social worker had instructed. And although I stayed within the confines of good prospective adoptive parent communication (according to the adoption industry), I did bring up the major issue at large--that of Bobby the bio-dad:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Kendra,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Just wanted to wish you guys a very Merry Christmas! Did you leave for vacation yet? I'm sure the boys must be super excited.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Baby Lily is a total roly poly piglet! OMG! She would take down the whole jug of formula if we let her. She loves to eat and sleeps tons, though she tends to want to hang out a bit at 3 in the morning. She likes to chill out by the Christmas tree in the middle of the night. In case you saw the Enfamil formula recall--don't worry. We ended up buying the Similac sensitive. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Of course, I'm sure you talked to Shelley already about Bobby registering with the putative father registry. We were all upset when we heard that news, but Shelley seems very positive and optimistic. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Give Alex and Logan hugs from all of us. And please give Johnny our regards. Your parents too! I hope you have a great holiday with your boys:)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Best,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Jennifer :)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I would not hear a reply until much later that night. And so, the remainder of my day included childcare, a mad rush to finish wrapping all the Christmas gifts, and a non-stop watch over my email account. I also started to experience heart palpitations around this time. It felt like a butterfly was stuck inside of my rib cage--a butterfly that was flapping its wings wildly but in vain, as if trapped near my heart, and the flapping was so powerful--so urgent too--that it left me literally breathless. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-62874036704474904552013-06-10T00:02:00.003-04:002013-06-10T00:21:34.654-04:00# 75: THE MAMA BEAR IN ME<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 75</b></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/23/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Morning</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure how it happened, but when the sun rose and my household came alive with kids, coffee, and the morning search for that Elf on the Shelf, I passed into a new psychological realm. My episode of derealization had already been broken with the news of Bobby signing the putative father registry. My subsequent avoidance of Baby Lily was over now too. I stopped trying to protect myself from the unknown and gave love to that baby girl.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, there are numerous (possible) explanations for my sudden shift in behavior toward Baby Lily that morning. These include:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) Tom admonishing me the previous evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) It was the day before Christmas Eve and the holiday spirit took over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) We hadn't heard anything further from our attorney--maybe we would be adopting Lily after all?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm sure that all three of the above noted facts contributed to my renewed commitment toward Baby Lily. But. There was something else too.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the big news had spread throughout the extended family (that the biological father had signed the putative father registry), my sister-in-law finally<i> </i>came to meet Lily. She literally popped into my bedroom unannounced while I was feeding Lily. She did not stay long. She approached Lily with great caution, as if the infant might contaminate her with a disease. She never got too close.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"She <i>is </i>cute," Diana said. "But I can't stay. Just wanted to say sorry about the biological father and all."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"It's not a tragedy," I countered. "She'll go back to her mom and her brothers if he takes any further action to contest the adoption. And her mom and her brothers are awesome."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was angry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One week earlier, on the day of Lily's birth, I had sent a picture of Lily to all our family members. While everyone else wrote back with "She's beautiful!" or "She's precious!," Diana had replied with the following text message:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Hold your horses. You don't even know if the dad is going to sign off on it!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had been infuriated. Her ostensible caveat was full of presumption. At the time, I was feeling traumatized by the pending separation of Lily from her natural mother and siblings. I was praying that Kendra would not relinquish in the first place!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diana avoided Lily until the adoption situation grew tenuous. It felt like she was hoping things would fall apart. When I confessed my agitation to Tom later that day, he agreed that her behavior was hurtful, but he'd been better able to put things in perspective:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I didn't expect her to be excited for us. She had a stillborn baby girl and now she has a handicapped baby boy. It's already hard for her to be around Sara--it's probably driving her nuts that we have another baby girl in the house."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But Lily is an innocent baby! With a traumatic beginning! Where's the family support? We gave Kendra pictures of <i>them</i> too! Of all of us together! We talked about how Lily would have an aunt and uncle and cousins on the same street! It's not turning out how Kendra thinks it will! The family is not welcoming Lily! I'm sorry Tom, but if this baby had been our biological child, they would have been over here sooner. They suck. They aren't being supportive. This has nothing to do with their situation!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom shook his head. "Your expectations of people are just very high."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Bullshit! Your family's expectations of <i>us </i>are too high! We have to be there for everyone! Who is ever there for us?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What do you want me to do? It's a bad situation. I'm disappointed too. But what can I do?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sighed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I guess you're right," I finally gave in. "We can't exactly go over there and complain when they already have their hands full."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The conversation was over for that day, but the topic was hardly resolved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And though I was growing more and more tired of putting myself in other people's shoes, there was a pool of guilt rising in my stomach. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Was I really being insensitive toward Diana? Why couldn't I cut her more slack? It must be so terribly painful and sad to have buried a stillborn. Maybe I would behave the same way if our circumstances were reversed? </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tried. I breathed deeply and I tried to feel otherwise and then I breathed some more. But there was no change. I was angry and my resentment had yet to reach its full bloom. And the more I felt Baby Lily was unwelcome in Tom's extended family, the greater my maternal instinct grew. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it surprises me--even now--that the baby I felt no right to claim, should start to feel like mine because of such negative emotion. I wish my heart had grown under a benevolent force instead. If only love (or some narrow version of love?) hadn't been birthed by such ugliness. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But this is the truth of how it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i> </span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-44747398694701834562013-05-26T10:00:00.001-04:002013-05-26T10:00:05.010-04:00# 74: MOTHER OR ACCIDENTAL KIDNAPPER? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 74</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Friday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/23/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>3:00 am</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lily was hungry. She cried out and I rolled over. I pushed against Tom's arm. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Please, honey, please," I begged. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Tom would not budge. Just before bed, he had taken my hands in his and encouraged me to participate more in Lily's care:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I need you to help with Lily. You've been avoiding her since we found out about Bobby signing the registry."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom was right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I said. "I thought I could do this, I really did, but I can't! I just can't! It's too painful. We can say we're foster parents, but are we? We might be adopting Lily, and every time I hold her, I fall more in love with her. But we might be giving her back to Kendra too and so I just can't get too close."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"And if that happens, then we're getting what we prayed for in the first place," Tom reminded me. "This baby girl will get to grow up with her real mom and her big brothers."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I know! Of course, I know that! I'm just trying to protect myself."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom sighed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Look, Jen, we are not in this to protect ourselves. We need to give Lily all our love right now whether she is going to be adopted by us or go back to Kendra. She deserves at least that much."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I don't know if I can do that. It's getting too painful."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"It's not about us. We can't worry about our own feelings right now. And anyway, she's a <i>baby</i>. I love babies. I love all babies," Tom said. "It doesn't matter if a baby's not mine or not going to be mine. I can love this baby no matter what. But I need your help! You need to help! We signed up for this together and we need to see this through."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I started to cry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Tom, I can't. I just can't bear to hold her anymore."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You barely even looked at her all day!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom had been understanding but firm with me:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I love you and I know it's hard but you can do this. You are waking up for the next feeding. Take Lily to sit by the Christmas tree when you feed her. She loves to look at the Christmas lights in the middle of the night."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And so, when Lily's cries started to gain more volume, I pushed myself out of bed. I carried Lily into the family room and turned on the Christmas lights. I snuggled her close, and saw that Tom was right: Lily was mesmerized by the tree. I studied her face as she gazed at the decorations. I started to cry again, but I forced myself to keep looking. I watched Lily fall back asleep and kissed her nose. I sat like that for awhile, not sure who I was anymore. Mother? Babysitter? Mother? Foster parent?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What would Bobby the biological father think?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I imagined that from his point of view, I would appear to be a kidnapper.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I felt sick. I carried Lily back to our bedroom, placed her in the bassinet as quickly as I could without waking her, and hurried back to bed. I couldn't wait to sleep, to forget, to find some kind of respite in my slumber.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span></div>
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<br />by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-39711701707116021022013-05-12T10:53:00.003-04:002013-05-12T11:06:00.230-04:00# 73: TEXT MESSAGE TRANSCRIPT <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 73</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Thursday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/22/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>9:55 pm</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Everyone was curious about our situation. I was inundated with calls, text messages, and emails from supportive friends. And Tracey, our friend who had adopted Ricky through the same attorney, was in constant contact with me. The following is a transcript of the text messages that passed between us late that night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Any updates?</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I summarized my earlier conversation with Shelley and described my immediate feelings:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>I don't mind fostering Lily for a month, but I cannot deal with this for a year or more, etc. I was not doing well at all today.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>No! I don't blame u at all. I guess wait it out for a month and see where u r???</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Problem is the ongoing nature. I asked Shelley about the Evan Scott case, and she said she never heard of it. It was played out on the media, this is her field, there is no way she didn't hear of it! Happened in Florida! So that is frustrating too.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>Is Shelley hinting for u to get out [of this adoption]? </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>No. [But] even after the 30 days expire [for the birthfather to contest], it could take another week or so to hear from the court if the birth father filed to contest. I'd personally like Shelley to contact birth father directly and find out his deal. Maybe he just wants to know his kid is getting placed with a good family? Maybe he wants something else? Who knows? But Shelley said she wouldn't exercise that route until he completes 3 steps in 30 days.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>So what do u think the birthfather's intent is? Is she [Shelley] saying to wait to see what he does and if he is serious? Or he simply doesn't know enough to do more? If the next step is to give her [Kendra] money, why hasn't he yet?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />I didn't answer Tracey's questions because I was already typing out this next paragraph:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Better to give baby back to Kendra, in my opinion, than to risk heartache for Lily and all of us. This is the stuff Lifetime movies are made of. I do not want to be the subject of a Lifetime movie! But we will wait out the 30 days. If contested, we will get out then. But, we will be more in love with baby by then too, so is definitely not easy. Baby is adorable. Birth mom sent me lovely email yesterday. Sara starting to act out a bit. TJ is anxiety ridden. I ate 10 pounds of Christmas cookies--no joke. Tom is so in love with this baby--I feel like I'm a little more cautious emotionally than he is. Poor little baby.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>I don't blame you. When it's meant to be, it will be. You guys don't need to put yourself thru any legal battles. It's not necessary. I feel horrible for Kendra! First she has to to give her baby up, which is the hardest thing ever, then some loser who abused her is going to make it so she gets the baby back and probably ruin her marriage!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Yes, that's exactly what he'd be doing. I'm sure he doesn't care about the baby. Just wants to ruin adoption to mess up Kendra's life. Very sad.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>Like I said before, if nothing else, you did the best deed of your lifetime. It will be sad, but you will bounce back. We lost 18k to some crack whore the first time. Plus, I was so very desperate to have a baby then, I was heartbroken. I recovered and adopting Ricky is the best thing I ever did.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Yes, we have to look at it like that. Just I'm afraid we'll get attached and lured deeper in and then really be at risk. So a part of me has to stay a little reserved so that I can plan to just get out if he objects in the 30 day time frame.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>It's so sad for Lily. What a way to start out a life??? Just give her as much love as possible now, no matter what happens...it's the most important thing. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Tom said tonight that we could stick thru hearing, but that could take months to get to. Then, what if he appeals? Lily could be a year old by then. Devastating for all and for Sara and TJ too. </i></span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I really think we have to get out at the first point if he contests, but Shelley is sooo confident it would be ok. Is like gambling with all our hearts. </i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>No. That's too much on your family. It's not just you guys, but Sara and TJ too. </i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>I need to get refocused. My bills are piled high, my tasks are far behind. I've barely even wrapped one Christmas gift. I am finding it very hard to function normally. Plus, I'm exhausted taking care of three kids! Which would be great if I could actually enjoy it. Look up the Evan Scott case. That bio dad allegedly abused bio mom during pregnancy too. We just have to think of this as a good deed for the 30 days. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>This is a pretty big deal. U need to look at this as fostering right now. Personally, I think it will turn out okay, but how long do you want to stick it out for? That's the question. I think I could be okay because I don't get attached that quickly. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>I'm just afraid of getting lured in deeper. Tom just exclaimed, "Lily's smiling!" I told him not to look. Getting very hard for me. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tracey: <i>Have your limits in place. Time, money, etc. I know this sounds harsh, but if it doesn't work with this baby, it will with another. That's the beauty of adoption. No doubt, adoption is stressful no matter how you slice it though.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me: <i>Yes, I think we have to have clear limits. Alright, gotta go sleep now, thanks. Talk to you later.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>*** </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am so grateful that I have real-time records in the form of text messages, emails, and journal notes. These aid not only in helping me tell this story in accurate detail, but also provide insight into my mental state at the time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the above text message transcript, I see recorded proof of my complicated struggle to understand the birthfather's possible motives. I was all over the place in my assumptions. In one of the above recorded text messages, I wrote, "</span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm sure he doesn't care about the baby. Just wants to ruin adoption to mess up Kendra's life." </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But just moments earlier, during that very same exchange with Tracey, I had written, "</span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe he just wants to know his kid is getting placed with a good family? Maybe he wants something else? Who knows?"</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Having no magical powers, I could assume nothing. Sure, I would try on possible motives like garments in a dressing room. But I never bought any of them. What I needed was a face-to-face meeting with Lily's biological father. Just as I had insisted on meeting Kendra, I needed to meet Bobby. But the attorney would not allow that yet. As my text message record shows, "</span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shelley said she wouldn't exercise that route until he completes 3 steps in 30 days."</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i> </span></div>
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-18643696925959074842013-04-21T19:05:00.001-04:002013-04-21T19:10:55.146-04:00# 72: LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE!<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 72</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Thursday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/22/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Approximately 11:00 am</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tom was in charge of the kids while I tried to understand our confusing and complicated situation. I spent over an hour on the phone with the attorney. The uncertain future of our adoption situation overwhelmed me with anxiety. The attorney, in contrast, showed little concern.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I think you're overreacting," Shelley began. "Like I told you yesterday, he hasn't even completed all the steps to contest the adoption."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I understand that, I do, but what I'm trying to understand is why he would sign the registry if he weren't planning to complete the other steps? I mean, is there some other reason, besides planning to contest an adoption, that would cause a birthfather to sign the registry? If not, then I really think we ought to start preparing for a contested adoption."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shelley sighed. "I think it's too premature to even think like that right now."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I need to think like this. I need to prepare for all the possibilities."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"If you are worried about getting too attached to the baby, I could hire a nanny to watch her at my house," Shelley offered. "I'd charge you a minimal fee for the childcare."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That's not fair to Lily," I replied. I couldn't imagine handing Lily over to some unknown babysitter. "We're trying to give her the best start she can get, whether we end up adopting her or not."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Okay then," Shelley said. "But just know that the offer still stands if you change your mind."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm <i>not </i>going to change my mind about that. I'm just trying to psychologically prepare."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Look, even if that interloper does follow through and contest--which is highly unlikely--we don't just give up. I'd file a motion to terminate his parental rights. Of course, the judge would need to grant due process and give him his day in court. But he'd never get the baby."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My head was spinning. Sure, it was all hypothetical then. But Shelley spoke as if we were simply making alternate travel arrangements in the event of inclement weather. This was no vacation! There were lives and families at stake! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tried to comfort myself with the following thoughts:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>It won't come to a legal battle anyway. We have a back-up plan. Kendra takes the baby back if the adoption gets contested. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But then new worries emerged: </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What if the birthfather doesn't contest the adoption within the 30 days but does so a year from now?" I asked Shelley.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Exactly one year after the adoption is finalized, no one can contest it for any reason."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But it will take another 6 months to finalize! That's a full year and a half from now! Are you saying we could live with this kind of uncertainty for that long?"</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That's highly unlikely. My adoptions are almost never contested."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, how many of them are?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Not many. And I've won all of those cases anyway."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What about the case of Evan Scott? I was reading about it all night. His case got dragged out for years."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I never heard of that case."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed. "It was right here in Florida. My friends who have nothing to do with adoption remember the news coverage."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, I don't know of that case."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But it shows there is a possibility that an adoption case could get drawn out for years! And that there's no way to predict the court ruling!"</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I don't know the case, but it was probably just a matter of shitty lawyering. I really wish you'd start reading my cases instead. You need to read up on my "Baby A" case. I won it at the Supreme Court level. You needn't be worried."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Oh my God! I don't want to end up in the Supreme Court!"</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That's highly unlikely. It's highly unlikely he'll even contest the adoption. In a few weeks, we'll know for sure when his time runs out."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't believe Shelley for a second. She had to know of the Evan Scott case. It had been local news and pertained to her area of legal practice. What a liar! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My hand was sore from clenching the phone. My chest felt even tighter, and my heart was beating more rapidly than if I'd just run a race.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did not trust our attorney.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Liar Liar Pants on Fire!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This childhood phrase came to mind, and led me to my next thought:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>I want to fire our attorney.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I didn't know if that was even possible. She had claimed to represent us--not Kendra and not the baby. And even though Lily was in our care, she had been legally relinquished to the attorney. The attorney was, in fact, her legal guardian at the moment. We had no legal claim to Lily. And if I tried to hire a new attorney, what would happen to Lily then?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-11341612439255102802013-04-19T10:59:00.000-04:002013-04-19T11:25:47.694-04:00# 71: THE CASE OF EVAN SCOTT <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Evan Scott's case took years in court!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;"><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 71</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/21/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Evening till late at night!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was on a research mission. Armed with my computer and a tub of Christmas cookies, I spent hours on Google trying to find information on contested adoption cases. I found the case of Evan Scott, and this particular adoption disaster seemed to heed a warning, especially as some of the initial circumstances surrounding the child's early relinquishment seemed to mirror our situation:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) Evan's biological mother was physically abused by the birthfather during the pregnancy. According to reports, she was even hospitalized following the attack. The biological father was arrested.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In our case, Kendra claimed to have been physically assaulted by bio-dad during pregnancy. Bio-dad was still awaiting his day in court to face these charges.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) Evan Scott got placed with prospective adoptive parents immediately following his birth. The bio dad contested the adoption, but the prospective adoptive parents pursued a legal battle and retained custody of Evan during the lengthy court proceedings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In our case, bio-dad had not officially contested the adoption, but he had signed the putative father registry. I imagined he would complete all necessary steps to contest the adoption altogether. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) Reports indicate that Evan Scott was to return to his birthmother if the adoption got contested. (Please note that some news reports claim that no such plan was ever made between the birthmother and the prospective adoptive parents).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In our case, we had the very same plan! Kendra would take Lily back if bio-dad contested the adoption.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4) In the Evan Scott case, it seems the prospective adoptive parents did not simply return Evan to his natural mother once the bio-dad contested the adoption (and he did so within his legal time frame). The birthmother wanted her son returned, but the case went to court and took OVER THREE AND A HALF YEARS to be decided. To watch video footage of Evan's return to his natural mother, click <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/2100-500168_162-667470.html">here.</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In our case, I had every intention of returning Lily to Kendra if bio-dad contested the adoption. That was the plan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5) Evan Scott would not even remain with his bio-mother. He would go on to get abused by his stepfather; in turn, Evan's biological father would finally get custody of him in the spring of 2006, when Evan reached the age of five!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In our case, there was NO WAY I would allow Baby Lily to suffer even the possibility of getting thrown around for years. NO WAY. If bio-dad contested the adoption, I would be sad, but I would return her to Kendra. She had two older half-brothers waiting for her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6) The Evan Scott case occurred in our home state. There was, in fact, recent legal precedent of a child getting returned to the natural family after YEARS of court proceedings. I planned to ask Shelley about the Evan Scott case the following morning. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>***</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For more information on the case of Evan Scott, please see the following links:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://jacksonville.com/tu-online/stories/052306/met_21941968.shtml">Click here</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=news/local&id=3705179">And here</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://unplanned-pregnancy.adoptionblogs.com/weblogs/in-the-news-again-the-baby-evan-case">Also here</a></span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-42354706232528600862013-04-08T23:29:00.002-04:002013-04-08T23:29:50.088-04:00# 70: "I AM THE DADDY!"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 70</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/21/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Approximately 5:30 pm</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was wrapping Christmas presents when Shelley called: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I don't have good news."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Okay," I said and waited to hear it.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"The interloper has signed the putative father registry."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It took me a moment to decipher the attorney's words.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"The bio dad signed the registry? Meaning he has legally documented that he believes he is the father of Lily?" I asked for clarification.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Yes."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"So what does this mean?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, it means he's trying to mess things up for Kendra. He doesn't want this baby--he's just trying to mess up her life!"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But maybe he really does want his baby?" </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could practically see Shelley scowl over the phone. Her words sounded like they maneuvered through a tight grimace; moreover, Shelley's tone indicated disgust with me:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Now. Wait a minute. There is no evidence that he actually wants his baby. Why would he want this baby? Why would he want to support a child--he's a young guy."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Maybe he just wants his baby cause it's his baby?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Now hold on, Jennifer! If he wanted his baby, he would've done everything he needed to do to stop the adoption from happening. It's not that hard. He needed to to do three things. Signing the putative father registry is only one of the three steps."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shelley was becoming more and more agitated with my line of questioning. And I was paying $500 an hour for these phone sessions! Still, I pressed on:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Okay, Shelley. Please remind me of the other two steps then."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"As I've already told you...he needed to give her money to demonstrate financial support during the pregnancy. He hasn't given her a penny! All he'd need to do is send her a check for a hundred bucks, but he's sent nothing!"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What if he sent her money but Kendra never got it? And doesn't she have a restraining order against him? Is he even allowed to send her mail?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Jennifer! It's not just the money! He also needs to submit a signed affidavit attesting to his ability and intent to raise a child! He has not done that!"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Is it possible that he doesn't know what he needs to do?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"He was served legal papers before Lily's birth! Everything he needed to know was in those papers!"</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought about legal paperwork. It's often confusing and difficult to read.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Please bear with me Shelley, but is it possible that he was unable to fully comprehend the paperwork?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, then he could have sought his own legal counsel."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Maybe he doesn't have the money to hire an attorney?"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Jennifer! You are not the lawyer here. Please, you need to relax and let me handle the lawyering. There is no way that man is ever getting this baby! No way! It's the letter of the law!"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i> </span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-50453038323772569692013-04-02T20:52:00.001-04:002013-04-02T20:52:27.049-04:00# 69: STAYING CONNECTED TO BABY'S BIRTHMOTHER (REVISED POST)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 69</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Wednesday</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12/21/11</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Morning</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got up feeling refreshed after a pretty decent night's sleep. Baby Lily woke for feedings after generous blocks of time--at least 4 hours--and Tom and I split the work 50/50. She was the easiest baby we ever had.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I couldn't wait to write Kendra, but when I sat down at my computer that morning, I felt immobilized. What was okay/not okay to write to Lily's birthmother? Ultimately, I followed the recommended adoption etiquette by adhering to the social worker's script for <a href="http://abortedadoption.blogspot.com/2013/01/63-on-becoming-puppet-or-script-for.html">"chatting with your baby's birthmother."</a> At exactly 10:10 am, I sent this email to Kendra:</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Baby Lily continues to do great! She is an awesome eater and drinks her formula like a champion. She is pretty sleepy much of the time--the pediatrician said to expect a lot more sleep with formula. The Dr. was very pleased that she got the colostrum too. Her color continues to look great--with her rosy and fair complexion, she totally blends in with all of us. She is a great baby!</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I hope your OBGYN appointment went well, and that your breast infection is getting better fast. Did they start you on the antibiotics?</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">All the best,</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Jennifer :)</span></i></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></i></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I checked my email constantly until a response arrived from Kendra at 11:09 am. Her note was upbeat and thankful, and she expressed only positive sentiments. It was filled with all good news:</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1) Her breast infection was much improved.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2) Her in-laws called to invite her along on their Christmas vacation. She accepted and would be traveling in a few days.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3) She expressed deep gratitude and thanks toward Tom and I (Shelley too) and was pleased with how everything had turned out, including that she remained connected to us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My reaction to Kendra's letter was a happy one, but I was also surprised that Kendra would be traveling soon. Johnny had planned to cancel the annual holiday with his parents; apparently, he had not. Although the in-laws ended up inviting Kendra along (the original plan did not include Kendra and meant she would be spending Christmas alone without her husband, either of her two boys, or her just relinquished newborn), I considered this a defeat for Kendra. In the hospital, before her husband had agreed to cancel the trip altogether, Kendra had shared that she didn't want to travel, even if she were to be invited along:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"His family is super fancy. They go to restaurants where we have to get all dressed up. I wouldn't be feeling up to that even if I were invited. I'm exhausted. I just don't want to be without my boys for Christmas."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, Kendra would be packing for a trip less than a week after giving birth! With a breast infection on top of it all! After giving away her baby!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought it was all too much.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But...the last two paragraphs of Kendra's email were reassuring and comforting. I felt good after reading them. Now, I wonder whether Kendra was getting any coaching from the attorney and/or social worker on her end. Maybe someone had given her some instruction on "how to talk to your baby's prospective adoptive parents after relinquishment!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or...perhaps Kendra was trying to please us, trying to remain a "good" birthmother lest we cut off all contact with her?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the day progressed, I reread Kendra's email--to myself, to Tom, to my mother, to various friends. Kendra's words rolled easily off my tongue:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"I hope everything continues to go well!"</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Things would not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>To Be Continued...</i></span><br />
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by Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12620656009462393047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725137789250152370.post-58362908086149826862013-03-11T21:14:00.001-04:002013-03-11T21:14:50.306-04:00# 68: MY BLOGGING PROBLEM...<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">PAGE # 68</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Monday</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>3/11/13</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Right Now!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Reader,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I recently updated my blog only to take down my latest post. Some people have tried to click a link to it, only to find the new post is gone. Moreover, I haven't updated further because I am stuck pondering an ethical issue (and a potentially legal one).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had initially published one of "Kendra's" emails to me. It didn't feel right, however, sharing her exact words; moreover, I'm not sure it's even legally okay to reproduce someone's personal email message on a blog. So--I took the post down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But...now I am struggling with how to proceed. Obviously, I could simply paraphrase Kendra's emails in future posts. On the other hand, there are parts of those emails where her wording is important to the story. So, I am unsure how to go on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Any advice? Feedback on legal/ethical issues? Please feel free to offer suggestions/knowledge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thanks for reading,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer </span><br />
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