Posts Tagged ‘fear’

The Worst Adoptive Mama on the Planet

March 23, 2013

Quietness and darkness have enveloped our home.  Only because it’s 4:35 a.m.  Our house is rarely quiet, rarely dark and rarely active at this time of the morning.  It has been one week since my car accident that has driven me to sleep on the couch (I couldn’t even THINK of climbing stairs for the first four days home).  And as much as I love sleeping with my husband, I love sleeping …. without fearing that he will kick my battered legs, bump my aching arms, yank the sheets against my seatbelt bruises on my neck or snore and make me crabby.  I’m starting to understand why my grandparents had separate rooms.  (Don’t worry, Honey, I’ll come back upstairs eventually.)  Aching arms woke me up in these wee hours… and it’s not time for the wonder drugs yet.  The fact that I can wait it out gives me hope that I’m not completely addicted to pain killers. Even in weariness, I have some level of self control.

My six year old habitual pastime of reading adoption blogs is still a passion of my soul.  It always will be.  Reading about a young couple tonight faced with infertility who have chosen a child in Ethiopia makes my adoptive mama heart beat with glee.  Another baby will have a mama.  Another daddy will cry tears of joy.  Another child will be placed by God and the nightmares might just fade a wee bit, making life a better place.  A safer place.

As an adoptive mama, I have had the normal adoptive mama fears that I am the worst adoptive mama on the planet.  I have cut off the Colombian princess from sugar at times, even sending her to bed with no cake!  Imagine!!!  I have sent her to her room when I couldn’t think of answering one more question about heaven.  I have not taken her to Disneyland.  I won’t buy her cute clothes just because they are cute, when her stuffed closet has more than enough.  I am sure I have been caught on surveillance tapes more than a dozen times in the Walmart parking lot saying, “We are not here to buy anything for you today.”  And I’ve wondered if she was in a different home, would she be granted more stuff and have more privileges.  I have expressed this self-doubt to other mamas and one in particular has told me again and again, “You are the perfect mama God chose for your girl.  She is in the right home.  You are the right mama. You are loving her just the way she needs to be loved.”  And it does my heart good for about three minutes and then the doubts return.

The before mentioned car accident was actually a glimpse into my “good adoptive mama” side that I needed to see.  The crash happened in the blink of an eye.  The air bags exploded.  Stinky smoke filled the van. And all I could think to do was jump out of my door which only opened half way to get to my nine-year-old baby in the seat behind me.  We hugged each other and balled our eyes out together.  She was not hurt.  I quickly realized that my legs were not fine and I was needing to sit back down.  Yes, the metal hitting metal sounds were ghastly and hurt our ears, but I believe what scared her the most was hearing me cry for the first time.  The ugly cry with snorts and uncontrollable guttural sounds. She kept reaching up and touching my shoulders in the front seat. Through the tears and pain, we bonded at a deeper level.

On my girl scout sash of life, I feel like I earned my “Unconditional Adoptive Mama Love” badge.  And my bruised body is a mere side effect of the stamp of approval on my heart.

I Can Take a Hint!

October 4, 2010

My last post mentioned a book about fear that I finished reading today.  I haven’t read much on fear, how to deal with it and how it affects you and those around you.  It is a vice of great proportions. 

Also today, a former pastor’s wife friend of mine stopped by the house and was telling me all about this great children’s ministry conference that she went to in California.  The curriculum they went through dealt with childhood fears that develop into lifelong struggles.  I read anything I can get my hands on that will help us with our adoption and parenting a child with a five-year history that we will know next-to-nothing about.  She said I could borrow it, but warned me that it is deep.  What?  Don’t I look like the deep type?  It intrigued me and piqued my interest in dealing with a possible dark past for our daughter.

My friend was not gone for more than five minutes when the phone rang and it was another former pastor’s wife friend.  I seem to have a lot of former pastor’s wife friends.  She proceeded to tell me about a book that her counselor had recommended to her also dealing with deep seeded fears that cause children to act inappropriately.  She mentioned the name of the book, but it escapes me at the moment.  I will be reading it as well!

All that to say, I can take a hint.  I have done some self-analyzing lately, in light of the fear issue.  There are some unanswered fears that remain in my heart, but I believe they are the normal fears of any expectant mother…. Will I love this child enough?  Will I love this child the same as the others?  Will she fit into our family?  Will she have learning challenges or health challenges?  Will I think she’s cute?  I wondered all those things about all my other kids too.  Actually, after speaking with my father-in-law about the medical issues on his side of the family (“short” people, people with six fingers on one hand, etc.) I probably worried even more about having biological children.

God has a way of presenting the issues to me one at a time so I can handle them.  It’s been nearly four years of adoption issues and stories that I have researched and prayed through.  I’m glad God knows what we can handle and what we can’t!  Fear not!

It’s October… already?

October 3, 2010

Pumpkin time… also, sadly, Christmas decoration selling time in the stores!!??!!  It always surprises me EVERY year! We have three more months until Jesus’ birthday.  Enjoy the Fall and Thanksgiving already.

On the adoption news front, I found out on Sept. 30th that we did have a referral in the end of July, but the child did not match our family file.  So we are still sitting at the top of the family pile waiting for our little girl to be available for us to go and love on.  It seems a November travel itinerary is still in the works.  Good news.  Wait wait and wait some more.

On the Mama-needs-a-distraction-from-waiting front, I have been reading a book titled Charting the Unknown: Family, Fear, and One Long Boat Ride by Kim Petersen.  Kim and her hockey-playing husband went to university with me and my hockey-playing husband.  Her prose is picture perfect.  Her colorful descriptions and parallel existence in her head are amusing and informative.  It’s a story worth reading because it deals with fear.  We all deal with fear, but we deal with different tactics.  After the death of their baby girl, Kim started dealing with fear head-on. It’s inspiring to read about someone who has been there, dove in deep, and came out alive.

I have read some of the story aloud to my husband, as we have laughed and laughed at the antics of his old teammate, Mike.  He was a jokester in college and obviously still is.  Some things never change.  We also had several flashbacks to university including the Sunday meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes and yorkshire pudding in the cafeteria.  The yummy memory made us both grin and smell the gravy 20 years later.

College life was sweet in so many naive ways.  If we knew then what we know now…. life would have been different.  But that’s the ol’ 20/20 hindsight deal again.  Kim’s book and her and Mike’s list of dreams from college made us take a fresh look at our dreams and goals.  Have we settled?  Have the dreams died?  No and no.  We will live out one of our pre-marital dreams in November when we go get our daughter in Colombia.

Do you have a dream or wish list from years ago?  Do you know where it is?  Have you reviewed it in a while?  Go find it.  It’s not too late.

Stray Rock, my foot!

May 16, 2010

Bullet hole through glass.

Last night I was reminded of an interesting story from our not-so-distant past that I have never shared here on MSJ.  We were house sitting for my parents, enjoying their large home, TV and swimming pool, and all was well.  Or so we thought.  I had a bad cold at the time and preferred to be heavily medicated at bedtime, so as not to awake 403 times during the night.  In the dark of the night, a VERY loud blast caused my husband to jump out of bed and yell something.  I had earplugs in, so I didn’t understand him.  Plus I was drugged… and happy about it.

The lights flicked on and I was realizing quickly that something had excited my dear husband.  Upon the removal of earplugs, he proceeded to tell me that something came through the window right across from his head.  After some detective work, we found two holes in the double-paned window, a hole in the wooden blinds and shards of glass and wood all over the carpet.  The holes were all about 3/4″ round.  This was not a stray thrown rock…. it was a bullet! I watched enough Perry Mason episodes to know a bullet from a rock!

Being still heavily under the influence of NyQuil, I went to the family room and fell asleep on the couch.  Rick called the police and they said they would come and see in daylight.  The next day we searched the floor in the bedroom and found a bullet slug!  Now, my parents lived in a nice neighborhood!  Nice homes with nice people!  This is not downtown Phoenix I’m talking about.  This is a Lexus, Shih Tzu, swimming pool, diamond tennis bracelet neighborhood.

The slug was found approximately 12 feet in the other direction from the entry holes in the window and blind.  We figured out from the angle of the holes that the bullet would have hit Rick in the head, if it hadn’t been for an industrial strength wrought iron bedside table that deflected the shot.  I was in awe of God’s protection

The police figured it was a stray shot from the mountain preserve next to my parent’s home.  I wondered why anyone would be in the mountain preserve in the middle of the night.  There’s cactus, coyotes, javelina and bobcats up there.  It seemed more likely to me that it was shot from a car passing by from the street adjacent to the side yard. 

Anyway, the windows were replaced as well as the slat for the blind.  No one died.  The carpet was vacuumed.  And we are still saying our prayers before bedtime!  Sweet dreams!

Thar She Blows!

May 17, 2008

 +  = BAD DEAL.

O.K. I learned a valuable lesson today, that I’m sure is a science fair experiment waiting to happen.  There is probably a chemical or molecular explanation for this, but I’m just a mom with a degree for teaching elementary children.  So here’s my profound advice: Don’t put dish soap in the microwave. Why? You ask.  Because it blows the microwave door open and makes a gargantuan sudsy mess.  Why in the world did I try this? You ask.  It’s a long story.  Grab a cup of coffee.

A few days back, I posted my childrens’ brilliant ideas as to what HOMINY is.  Fast forward to yesterday when I actually prepared Hominy Chili, which was divine, but the way.  So today I re-heat the southwestern delicacy in the microwave without a cover.  BIG mistake.  It blew brown chunks all over the insides of the useful ivory oven like Space Invaders shooting asteroids.  In the past, I have boiled a bowl of water in the microwave to moisten the bits of food plastered to the walls and ceiling to increase cleaning efficiencey and speed.  Today I got the bright idea to add a squirt of (get this) Spring Purity Ultra Palmolive Oxy Plus Odor Eliminator Concentrated Dish Liquid.  Would “Red Dish Soap” not sell as well???  Back to the microwave.  I was standing off to the side of the kitchen on the hinged-door side of the microwave…. THANK GOD!  At approximately 3 minutes 28 seconds the door of the oven blew open and soapy water flew across the kitchen like 237 birds sprung from their cage.

In a nanosecond, I screamed.  Loudly.  I jumped.  I shielded my body and face with my arms. My heart beat with wild abandon.  My kids thought is was “Cool!” “Awesome!” and “Hilarious!”  But the interesting thing is that some of the soapy microwaved water drenched my left foot…. but the water wasn’t hot.  Then why did it blow?  That’s the science fair experiment part. I have no intelligent answer at this time.

Anyway, my little range top oven is sparkling. My left foot is clean. And I know not to ever put liquid dish soap on the microwave again (unless I want to scare the beegeebees out of someone… heh heh heh.)