Finding Joy in the Journey

My baby, Reagan, turned 2 this past month. Saying these past 2 years has been hard is an understatement. They've been excruciating and exquisite at the same time. I have loved my babies but it has been emotionally, mentally and physically taxing. Also, my dad's cancer has spread and I feel like my heart will break every. day. I have a teenage daughter who thinks I'm an idiot and my 15 year old son is becoming a typical teenager. It seems like when one thing ends another begins. I guess that's what life is about.

I'm going to try to keep track of what's going on in our lives on this blog. We will see if I can find 5 minutes a day.....

Bending My Will

One day, I finally gave in to the prompting to check my facebook page that I set up for my adopted kids. I set up this page to keep in touch with their birth mother and their birth brothers' family. It had been nagging at me for over a month, So, I checked it out. I had a message from the boys' grandma saying, "I wish the boys were with you. Bn is not doing good."
I called DCFS and spoke to a supervisor. Our caseworker's last day with DCFS was the day we adopted the babies. I knew something was up because usually you cannot speak to someone the same day even if it is important. She was vague because of confidentiality but asked if the boys were to come back into foster care would I like to take them. ACK! How could I possibly do that? I am so overwhelmed. But, then I remembered these sad, little boys that we sent home to their dad. I remembered how traumatic is was for them to go from house to house and how H developed ptsd from it all. So.....I said yes. And then she said that these boys are most likely headed for adoption. Could we adopt them? I'm sorry, but no. We cannot. That much I knew firmly.
They came to us within 2 days. These sweet, scared, confused little boys. But this time when they came back, they were relieved. We had already developed a relationship of trust. They relaxed and fit right in. It was so nice to have them.
The last day in our house over a year ago, H had a fit for a few hours, told me that he hated me, etc, etc. I was more than relieved to see them go. They were hard and made life so chaotic and unpredictable.
But, this time we all fell in love. The very next morning, H said, I'm so glad that I'm here. They told me I was going to Karyn's. I forgot that was you. If I had know it was you I would have been happy.
He would say things like you're the best mom in the world. And can I just call you mom for now?
He would say, Am I going to stay with you guys forever? I mean, how many tears can I cry? And I would have to say, we'll see. When he would ask, when can I sign up for wrestling, I would say, we'll see.
So about 10 days into this, I decided that I wanted to adopt them too. I decided right before I rolled over to go to sleep. I could not sleep a wink. Seriously. Usually, when I go to sleep, I am out for the night, Nothing. Until 6 in the morning. Just tossing and turning. The babies weren't even up. Finally, I remembered when my friend told me something in the course of a conversation. She said, remember, stupor of thought is an answer. Those words ran through my head. It was an aha moment. I was having stupor of thought. I could not find peace. So I said to myself, fine. It's not the right thing to adopt these boys. And I fell right to sleep for 45 minutes until it was time to get up to start the day.
So, I began to worry. What would their lives be like? Who would care for them? Who would help them to be normal? To walk through life without being a victim? Who would give them the skills to conquer everything put before them?
As I pondered this new question, a name popped in my head, followed by goose bumps. I knew it had to be inspiration. This girl had helped me out with the babies when the kids went back to school in the fall. So, I messaged her and asked if she would be interested. A couple phone calls later and approval from the placement committee and they were on board.
The boys loved her and her husband. They are great. They will love them like their own. They texted me a picture of By snuggling with the boys and her daughter. I cried. She will have the time and the energy to love on these boys like I can't. She can read all day them. I can't. She can carry T around like he desperately wants. I can't. By is having trouble getting kids the conventional way. She gets to be a mother. They boys get to have a mother. It's a win-win. My daughter said, Don't be selfish, mom. You can't keep all the blessings for yourself.
Heavenly Father is in charge. He is the master and if we let him, he will put all the pieces together for us. It was a great lesson for me that even good things can be better. To remember to do the Lord's will first and not my own.

Letter To My Friend

Hi Tiffany,
I felt inspired to share an experience with you. So here you go.
Right after I had my first child, Normandy, I started to experience ear problems. Loss of hearing, vertigo, tinnitus, all sorts of stuff. It was really no fun. And I had a really hard time accepting what was happening. I was finally getting to be a mother and I could not understand how I could be sick. I was really sick. I couldn't do anything when the dizziness hit. I had a hard time with my faith. I had always been taught that if you have enough faith you can fix anything. This is not true and it is also a hard lesson to learn.
Flash forward to 10 years. I was still having ear troubles. As I was trying to get the kids to school in the morning I had a spell of vertigo and I fell and hit my head on a cupboard and kept hitting my head because I felt like I was falling over and over. It happened just feet from my kids. This was one of the only times my kids saw me be dizzy. I tried really hard to shield it from them. So I was particularly upset. I called my dad and he came to my house.
My dad is wonderful. He is good old boy. He worked construction my whole life. He always had grease under his fingernails and a super tan face. He is strong and really stubborn. He was the perfect dad for me.
Just as he was getting to my house another spell of vertigo hit. My dad walked me to the couch. He found ginger powder and made me take it with water to stem the nausea. Then he knelt in front of me and rubbed my shoulder and then he said something to me that changed me forever. My big strong dad with tears in his eyes said, "If I could do this for you I would." And I knew he meant it. There's a whole other story here because my dad has walked through more sorrow and grief than most men and came out the other side so I didn't have to. Another time....
After he put me to bed and the dizziness subsided I had time to ponder. I had always perceived my Heavenly Father as a distant being. I knew that the trials we had were for our own good. That all this stuff would make me better. That I had to go through challenges to be God-like. I thought of my Heavenly Father sort of like a scientist in a laboratory. You know, let's see what happens when we do this to her. How will she respond if we do that?
It became really clear to me that my Heavenly Father felt towards me as my own Dad does, When I am struggling and my trials are very hard to bear, he is in front of me saying, "If I could do this for you I would." I am so sure of this. And when I'm mad that crappy things are happening, He will brush it off and love me anyway. When I call, He will send help. When I'm suffering. I am not alone.
I'm so sorry for what you and your little baby girl are going through. Cancer is a jerk. I hate it.
I hope you are faring well enough.
With love, Karyn

Day by day

So, it seems pretty weird to be writing about how hard my life is now that I have 3 babies. When I started writing this I was trying for just one and would have been ecstatic to know that I would have these precious little souls to raise. But that doesn't negate the fact that it is hard. It's 11 at night and Abe is in the swing and Reagan is in a wrap on my chest and I'm tired. I sleep a couple of hours a night if I'm lucky. Tonight was supposed to be the first night we put Abe in his own bed in a bedroom with J. He seems to know what is up so he is ready to party. He is so sweet. Every time he catches my gaze he smiles so wide. I just love him so much.
It's next to impossible for me to even stay caught up on my housework. It takes me 2 hours to get everyone fed and changed and happy in the morning. And that doesn't include a shower for me and sometimes, a bra.
A couple of nights ago after a particularly harrowing afternoon, my husband called. I was on my way from picking up my son from lacrosse practice and Trav asked what was for dinner. Is he serious? My afternoon was nonstop babies and kids. But I did find time to dictate to my daughter what to make for dinner. Nice girl that she is she made dinner. I made green beans with the help of my boys.
I keep reminding myself that in 5 years it won't matter if my house was a mess or if my kids had toast for dinner. My babies are only little once and I don't want to miss a second of the preciousness of holding them and feeding them and even changing them. They are so special. It is amazing to me every day that I get to raise these wonderful, challenging children.

Letter to my OB

Dear Dr. Bean,
In February 2014, you were my doctor as I delivered a miscarriage at 18 weeks. This was my sixth miscarriage in a row. I wanted to let you what an impact you have made in my life since.
While in the hospital you quoted a stat for what our chances were for having a healthy baby. And I laughed. I remember you coming up by the head of my bed and assuring me that I could have a healthy baby in the future.  I wasn't ready to hear that but it stayed with me.
When I went in for my 2-week appointment with you, you said that you really thought that I should try to have another baby. My heart wasn't in it, but I kept thinking about what you said, over and over.
My husband was done with the whole process and ready to move on.
We started fostering a baby in May of 2014. Her mother became pregnant again in July of that same year. We were informed that this new baby may come to our home as well.
In August of 2014, my husband decided that he wanted to try to have a baby one more time. But if we didn't get pregnant by the end of the year, we were done and this was our final try.
As soon as I got pregnant I knew we were through trying to have another baby. Whatever the ending was, we were done. I saw you for most of my early appointments. But one appointment stands out in particular. We had received the test results from the panorama test. It was all good news but I still wasn't ready to feel optimistic. You put down the paperwork and looked at me and said, "This is going to have a happy ending. I promise."
When other people had told me that everything would be fine, I always said, how can you know? It hasn't been fine in the past. It was on the tip of my tongue to say this and then, I believed you. I feel like you were inspired that day to tell me these words. That day was the day I decided to embrace the pregnancy and prepare for our new little one. I repeated what you said and replayed the memory of that interaction often.
I didn't get to see you for many later visits. Dr. Melendez delivered our little girl, Reagan, on July 6th.
Thank you for your optimism and your kind words. Thank you for being willing to offer your words even when I didn't want to hear them. I appreciate what you do, you take care of more than the body.
In less than a month, my family will be going to the temple. We will be getting sealed to our babies that are 19 months and 5 months. They will be formally adopted the day before. In the course of a year we are adding 3 babies to our family. And we are finally done with having babies.
Thank you,
Karyn Labrum

Trying for 7

This is Baby Stark. He was born middle of March. I guess I should change the name of the blog to trying for 7. Our new little baby due July 5th will be #7. It is a girl and we are planning on naming her Reagan. The naming of babies in this household is becoming increasingly difficult because the older kids feel that they should be part of the process. My oldest son actually wore me down enough that I gave in and that is why the little man will be named Stark once we adopt him.
I am officially 28 weeks 2 days along with this pregnancy. The baby seems great. She is active and all the tests came back normal. Just a waiting game....
Things with our little foster baby are going great. Birth mom dropped out of the picture the end of November. We haven't had to do a visit since. Baby J is great. She is still pretty behind. She just turned 16 months old and still can't walk proficiently yet. But her vocabulary is coming along. She started using a couple of signs and she has a couple of words that she says consistently. We love her and are so glad she is part of our family. We have a TPR scheduled for the beginning of May. At this court hearing, the parental rights should be terminated. Birth mom hasn't had contact and has been arrested for drug possession numerous times. And there is no dad on record for either of the kids. It should be a pretty easy hearing. In fact, our caseworker told me that we should contact an adoption attorney, which I did today. Waiting for a call back. But I can't believe that we are at this place already. Baby J will be #5.
That brings me to #6....
We had a court hearing the beginning of March. This was mostly to wrap up the case with for J's older brothers who we had for over 7 months. They went back to dad and seem to be doing great. You could have knocked me over when birth mom showed up to the hearing. She was incommunicado for over 3 months and had active warrants for her arrest. But she waltzed in and took J from my husband and held her for the whole proceedings. It was agonizing for me.
She was 8 months pregnant at the time. When she disappeared, she still wasn't showing and so we wondered if she really was pregnant. I wondered if the baby could survive the lifestyle I assumed she was living. Birth mom reported to court that she was clean. That she wanted to get J back. That she was entering a rehab the very next week that would allow her to keep her new baby. It was all very surreal.
I expected to have to do visitation the next week if the reports were accurate. I waited on pins and needles. Now, I am a proponent of foster kids going back home. I don't want it to seem like I'm not. But in this case, I know that birth mom is not capable of caring for Baby J. And I worry that since she is so loved and coddled that is will hurt her to be in an environment where she is sort of an afterthought.
I was napping the next week, which I do every day. Being pregnant at almost 40 is not easy. I got a phone call from the caseworker which I ignored. I didn't want a visit. Then another call which I ignored. Then a text. I figured I would check out the text. The caseworker said call ASAP. So I probably swore and then called. She said the day we knew would happen has happened. My heart sank. But no visit or change. Birth mom had her baby. He tested positive for drugs in his urine. This is bad. Usually they have to test cord blood for babies. It means it was really recent use to show up in his pee. The baby would be removed from mom's custody immediately. Did we want him?
Did we? I told Trav that I would say no when this day came. This pregnancy has been hard for me. I feel like we are complete and don't need to try any more. I feel overwhelmed by what's on my plate already. Is it fair to my other kids? But then I felt this overwhelming feeling that we should and so I said Of Course.
Baby was 4 weeks early. Which is common in drug exposed infants. He weighed over 5 pounds. He was doing good but was being monitored for withdrawal symptoms. I asked if I could see him and was told it was fine. I just needed to wait for the warrant to be served for removal. The removal officer would call. That was at 12:30. So I called Trav. Told him we were taking the baby. Which, saint that he is, he was on board with. Then I scrambled to try to find gear for a preemie baby in less than one day. We were told we could bring him home the next morning.
I finally couldn't wait and called the hospital around 6. Everything was in order and I could visit around 8 after the shift change. So I went shopping for the little guy and then went to the hospital. When I first met him, I fell in love. He was so tiny and helpless with no one in the world to care for him but me. And so even though we didn't know if we would be able to keep him or what was in store, I was going to be his mama for as long as he needed. Nothing held back. I was all in. The hospital treated me just like his mama, too. That was nice.
He was able to come on Sunday morning.
He is now 5 1/2 weeks old. He is doing great. He is over 7 pounds. He is cute as a button. He has a really loud cry. His withdrawal symptoms have mostly abated. He likes to party in the middle of the night. I hope he gets that figured out before Reagan comes.
In my last post, I was so sure that our baby was a boy. I could feel a boy's presence. Now, I have no doubt that I was feeling Baby Stark. I am not clairvoyant or psychic. Even though it does run in my family. But I could tell we had a boy coming. It's nice reassurance when I feel overwhelmed and tired and wondering how we will do 3 babies.
So, we should be able to adopt these 2 kiddos by the beginning of June. And Reagan will be born soon after. Now that I 'm old they won't even let me go to term. They say there are too many complications that can crop up. So, I won't be surprised if she's a little early. My placenta deteriorates and calcifies early. But my babies like to go late. Not a great combo. That's why my first 2 sons were induced and it was a little scary. With Steel we monitored and I sat around and drank lots of water and he did great. We will see how this one goes...
I am so happy and excited to get to raise these little ones. I know it will be hard but this is what I was put on Earth for.

12 weeks

At my last appointment on Wednesday, I was 11 weeks, 3 days. The baby's heartbeat was very strong. He was moving around, waving his arms and legs. He looked great. I asked the doctor if we were out of the woods. He said not until 12 weeks. I said but I'm 11 and 1/2. He said there are no studies that show 11 and 1/2. They only show 11 and 12 weeks. I asked so the chance of miscarriage are higher in week 11 than 12 and he said yes. He said that once we reach 12 week the chance of miscarriage are less than 1%. I've heard all the percentages before and I know that I lie in the less than 1% range. So I said but not for me. And he said, not for you.
My husband didn't want me to make an appointment for Christmas Eve because he didn't want me to ruin Christmas. I told him that if I was still sick I would go, if I felt better I would cancel. I was pretty confident with the way that I was feeling that the baby would still be there. And he was. And I was able to enjoy Christmas. I didn't have to wonder if my little baby was still with us.
So, I want to say we are out of the woods with this little baby but until I see the heartbeat again, I guess we can't count on anything.
Since I've stopped taking the progesterone, which was 2 days ago, my nausea has gotten a little better. This has freaked me out completely. Both nights since then I have stayed awake panicked that my baby has died. I'm pretty sure when the last baby died, I felt better instantly but I worry that it may be gradual this time. I've been sneezing without my tendons feeling like they were ripping in half. But when I woke up this morning, my stomach hurt really bad so that made me feel better.
I started out with this pregnancy believing that we really would get a baby out of it. I feel like its a boy. I feel like I can sense his presence. My husband thinks this is crap. But he's never been a mama. He doesn't know what it's like. But now that we get further into it. I can't let myself believe it anymore. Now that I want to say things like, when the baby gets here or the baby will be this old then. I tell myself that I am stupid to plan. That I am just setting myself up for heartbreak. But I need to be positive for the baby to have the best chance. And who am I kidding, my world will be shattered if this baby dies. I'm hanging all my hopes on this chance.
My biggest fear, obviously, is that my baby will die. I've seen him moving. I've seen his heartbeat. I swear I can feel his presence, waiting to come to us. My mother's heart has been broken before. How can a baby die inside of my body? How did I not protect this child? How could I let that happen? Even though I know the whole while, intellectually, that it is out of my control? All I ever want to do as a mama, is to take care of my kids. I am so scared that I will not be able to take care of this baby. Will he die, too? Will I even know?
Our little foster boys got to go home to their Dad the week before Christmas so we got to move Baby J into her own room. My husband left the crib up because he is anticipating having the new baby in it. Last night, I was thinking, it will really suck to take that down after the baby dies. This is my internal battle. I think of my first pregnancies and how I bought baby clothes and maternity clothes from the pregnancy test on. Weird stuff.
My next appointment is Wednesday, New Years Eve. Wish me luck...