Father's Day 2012

I know it’s not father’s day yet, well at least here in the U.S.A, I have one more day. Father’s day for me how ever isn’t a big deal. My dad only saw me once every two weeks and after I got pregnant I really decided that I didn’t want to be there. I love him and such, just not around him. I’m an out of sight out of mind kind of person. My Step dad is a nice enough man, he takes care of my mom, sister, and me and I also love him. We get him a gift and a card and celebrate it with him as well. However, he has 5 other biological kids to spend his day with. 

I forgot to send Greg a card, which is my bad, and I’ll just send him a pretty email card or a late real card. Then there is the other technical father person in my life, Victor.

Every time there is an opportunity for Victor to be involved in the adoption or have anything to do with Jude, I ask him straight up, “Do you want to do this?” “How would you feel about this?” “What do YOU want to do while this is happening?” and anything else that would apply to that situation. Victor’s aspergers makes social situations weird enough as it is, add in a kid, which while he likes Jude, is still a kid which makes things super uncomfortable for him. Plus if Jude screams, which I expect him to do, Victor’s hearing might be affected and he might, well as I call them, “have a fit”. This results in him being broody, moody, sulky, and an asshole. Victor knows his limits, lays them out for me and his expectations and what he wants.

So, I asked him about Father’s Day. I asked him: “Do you want to do anything?” No “Do you want a gift?” No “Ok, do you want to be acknowledged at all as a Father that day?” No. It was the answer I expected and I thought that was the end of that, but something weird happened. Victor suddenly became sad and removed. I could tell that he was off some how and I asked him if he was alright. At that moment we had arrived at Red Robin for dinner. He said we would talk about it later. 

Once we put our name in, we went outside to wait for an available table. After a couple of minutes and his mood was still the same. I asked him “Did I make you sad about Father’s day? I’m sorry” He said…(and I quote to the best of my memory)

“No, it wasn’t you. I just don’t think I’m worthy to be a part of father’s day. I just don’t feel like I …..deserve to be called a father. I don’t take care of him. I’m not there for him, and yeah, I don’t take care of him.”

My Heart Broke.

I had never heard anything so……sad, human, parental like, come from Victor. I almost cried right there and then. I honestly didn’t know what to say to that. Victor is a logical person. I could tell him to the moon and back that he is wrong and that while he doesn’t take care of him now, he took care of me when I was pregnant, took care of Jude in the hospital, made the RIGHT decision for Jude’s life, and does far more than what I expected for Jude now than I had ever thought.

So I just told him, that I think he is wrong, but I know he wouldn’t believe me.

Guys, my heart breaks for him.

I wish I could just show him that he’s wrong. He doesn’t have to celebrate father’s day if he doesn’t want to, but dammit he should know that he does count! He tries so hard every time we see Jude to be involved and get along with Katie and Greg. He wants to help me with every project I want to do for Jude. He wants to visit with Jude almost every single visit, despite the fact that originally he planned to not see Jude at all after he was placed. 

I just wish he saw what I saw. 

He broke my heart…again….but for an entirely different reason.

I am Infanite

Happy New Year Everyone!
I hope it is a good one for everyone. Its the time of year where we make promises or resolutions to our selves and (most often not) go through with them. Now I'm realistic and also know that things change every day, so I don't make resolutions. If I do, then there horribly vague. Like, "It would be nice if I tried to loose some weight this year". This year though, I guess, is different.
It started a month ago. After a bit of mental deliberation and some inner soul searching I guess I found out my big problem in life and was finally able to express it to my therapist.
I never feel like I'm good enough for anyone. I have no self worth.
This has been a problem my whole life. Through other peoples actions and words, whether they mean to or not, they have made me feel worthless. For most of my life, I believe them and begin to think that I'm not good enough for them, or anyone else really. They're are people who have effected it more than others.
Victor was a big one. He was and is a big part of my life. I've known him since 7th grade, dated him for 7 years, had a baby with him, went through an adoption with him, and he has become my best friend. I tried very hard to be the best girlfriend ever. He was my first everything. I loved him with all my heart. Then out of no where he decided he didn't love me anymore. I felt like I died that day. A month later I was pregnant, and any kind of mourning I needed to do was put on the back burner. Jude became my priority and Victor and I's non-relationship was not important. After the adoption was final, I had to deal with the emotions from the adoption. Again, the non-relationship took a back seat. It wasn't until about 5 months after the adoption, that Victor had told me he met some one new and was in love. Needless to say, I flipped out and dove into a jealous, angry, depressed, resentful mess. I had to deal with the adoption, the non-relationship, and anything else that was going on at that time.
I just kept thinking to my self; what did I do wrong? Maybe I didn't try hard enough, Maybe I needed to be better at sex, Maybe I should have nagged less. I tried so hard to make Victor happy. I still try very hard to make Victor happy. I know he appreciates it and he tries as well to make me happy. No matter what though, He makes me feel worthless. He doesn't hit me or insult me. In fact he's one of the few people that tells me I'm beautiful almost every single day. I look at him sometimes, and I'm reminded of the failure of our relationship and how I wasn't enough for him.
My parents are another big one. My sister and I have this running joke, we have four parents (1 mom, 1 dad, 1 stepmom, and 1 stepdad) and we still didn't get any good ones. Our mom is really the best of them all. She has been understanding with my situation and has tried her best to make living at home (again) easy for me, because she knows I absolutely hate it. It wasn't easy though growing up in her house. To many changes happened to her that lead to crappy things and I was a victim of the crappy outcomes. When my mom married my stepdad, it made me really wonder why she wasn't happy with our lives the way it was before? When it was just the three of us. I had always thought we were happy, but I guess there are two sides to every story.
My stepdad was and still is no easy person to live with. I like to think of him as a really stale nut. The shell is extremely hard, but inside is the good part. He has been very nice to me and Sarah as we grew up and has certainly been a better dad to us at times than our real dad is, but he has a lot of characteristics that make him unbearable at times. He's loud (if yelling were a sport, he'd be world champ), set in his ways, needs things to be done now and a certain way, and thinks very highly of him self and a few others. I also fine him rude and moronic at times. He can make me feel inadequate on a daily bases. For Instance, the other day I had eaten breakfast, gone to work, and shopped afterwards, leading me to be gone most of the day. When he got home though he asked me if I had left the butter out. I said I guess I had. Then he said, and I quote, "Well don't do that. I think thats very immature of you and I know you can be a better person than that." ...... Ok then. If its not this then its another thing; not putting my dishes away immediately or leaving a light on means I have no sense of responsibility. Asking to make cookies before dinner means I don't care about what others need to do. Cutting up my meat before I eat it means that I am childish and not a "lady". Like I said, its always something.
My stepmom and Dad are just.........well, some what crappy people. My dad has never let me think I'm worth much to him. I think thats one of the outcomes of being a bastard though. When my dad and stepmom had there own kids though, they became more involved in their lives, than with Sarah and mines. I guess in retrospect this is what should happen, because my siblings lived with my dad and Sarah and I didn't, but regardless it still hurt. What was the real icing on the cake was when I found out I was pregnant. My stepmom had decided I was being selfish by continuing to be pregnant instead of getting an abortion and I guess my dad believed her or something. Honestly, I don't know what my dad thought. They told me they didn't want anyone on that side of the family to know, so don't tell them. They also told me that they didn't want my, at that time, 8 and 11 year old brother and sister to know either, so they told me not to some over to their house or visit them until I was no longer pregnant. I am also not allowed to talk about the pregnancy, Jude, or the adoption to this day. As far as I know, my brother and sister still don't know that I ever was pregnant. You can imagine how I felt when they told me all this. The biggest fear for any kid is hearing that there mom or dad doesn't or love them anymore, well that was them telling me that they didn't want me anymore.
The last big one is Jude. Jude, my sweet baby boy, has done nothing directly to me to make me feel worthless. I love him more than anything else in the world and I do not regret my decision to stay pregnant, have him, and give him up for adoption in anyway. I had to give him up though because I knew I couldn't take care of him. In theory a mother should be able to take care of her baby, and I couldn't. I wouldn't have been able to give him the life I thought he deserved. Not being able to take care of him, not being able to be a mother to him, is what makes me feel worthless.
I know this is sounding depressing, but bare with me because it gets better.
I've decided that this is no longer acceptable. I am not worthless dammit! I have done some amazing things in my short 21 years of life and no one; not a boy, family, friends, or who ever should be able to tear me down. So my New Years resolution is to gain some self worth.
Victor was an amazing relationship that I don't regret. But he is not the only boy out there. No boy, no matter how amazing I think he is, should make me feel worthless. I start with by forgiving my self. I tried my hardest, but for what ever reason our love didn't work out. It's not my fault, its not Victors fault. It just is. I'm sincerely happy that Victor has found some one new and I hope he finds happiness with this person. As for me, maybe if I forgive my self for this, I can find happiness with some one new too.
My parents can try to tear me down if they like. By either making snide comments on how I "should" act or whether they don't say anything at all about a big part of my life, but it wont work. I'm going to start commenting back. This is my life and I should be able to do what makes me happy, whether it is cutting my meat into little pieces or being able to talk about Jude. If this makes me "rude", "disrespectful", and possibly even a "bitch", then so be it. I wont let you verbally hurt me anymore.
Adoption was really the best thing for Jude. I may have not been able to be a mother to him, but I gave him what he needed. I see mothers who can't do that for their kids when they do keep them. I made damn well sure Jude is taken care of and loved. Which he is, by his parents, by me and Victor, by my family, and Victor's family. He will never be unwanted, neglected, or unloved.
To help me, I have my infinity necklace.

I will remind my self of this everyday until I can look in the mirror and say to my self, "I am worth something. If not to others than to my self." I am strong, compassionate, beautiful, funny, and smart. I am infinitely better than I think I am. I am infinitely amazing.
Today, I start loving my self. Today, I become worthy of my self and others.
Happy New Years
May 2012 be as amazing as you all are

Depressed Much?

Alright, so I’ve been wondering lately if I’m becoming or still am “clinically depressed”. I only put quotations around those words because I know that I am depressed as in just plain sad sometimes, and that I don’t have a chemical imbalance (that I know of) going on. I also believe in post-pardum depression and was diagnosed with it shortly after I gave birth. Personally, I don’t think I had post-pardum but I did know that I was depressed because of the adoption and “losing” a baby. My mood and mental state were only getting worse by the day, and so I went along with my doctor and started taking Anti-depressants.

I was on them for about 6 months. Then one day I got REALLY REALLY REALLY sick and couldn’t drink water with out it coming back up, let alone a pill. I was sick for like three days and after then I never really took the pills again.

Recently though I’ve been really worried that I’ve had to go back on. I’ve been really weepy. I cry at all the commericials that are horribly sad. Soldiers coming home, Sarah McLaughlin telling me I’m a crappy person because I don’t adopt all the animals in the world, and especially the trailer for Titanic 3D (Damn you Celine Dion!). I realize this also could mean I’m not a heartless person, but depression was the first thing that came to mind.

Well, I went to my therapist last week and I told her what I think. She asked me how I’ve been eating and sleeping, what my mood has been like, and what have I been doing. Everything has been normal. She told me that she doesn’t think that I need to go back on the anti-depressants.

That was such a reilf for me. I don’t want to go back on my pills. I’m just so done being sad over the whole adoption. My life has moved forward and I’m happy with the adoption as it is. The only thing that ever really makes me sad is how much I miss Jude, but thats to be expected and that sadness doesn’t run my life. I don’t want to go back to the horribly depressed state that I was in when I first gave Jude up.

Don’t get me wrong, I needed to be on anti-depressants after I gave Jude up. I didn’t want to get out of bed, I cried all the time, and I just wanted to sleep. Sadly, life goes on no matter what mood your in. I needed to work on school, get a job, and just start trying to put myself back together. My anti-depressants helped me through that. However, it was never my intention to stay on them for a long time. I didn’t want to stay on them for a long time.

I know some people need that and I support them, but I didn’t and don’t have a chemical imbalance. I don’t need to be on them for the rest of my life and honestly, I’m glad I don’t. I’m happy I could work through the last bit of my depression by my self and find my own happiness that way. I know I’m still a long way from being put back together, because my life was shattered in so many different ways, but I do know that I am taking crucial steps to getting there.

I guess its true what they say, It’s always darkest before the dawn…..

November: National Adoption Month! :D

Because its National Adoption Month, I thought I would post about how I talk about my adoption and how I try to inform people about adoption.

I talk about Jude and the adoption a lot in my life. Obviously I blog about him, I talk about him to my friends, Victor and I always talk about him, and I brag about him to my friends and employers. I don’t do just that though, when I can I try to inform others about adoption and if they ask my personal adoption experience.

I’ve had two informative speeches so far at school, I’ve done both of them on adoption/the adoption process. Both times I have I have used my self and Jude as an example of adoption. I got A’s on both of those presentations (yay me!). I love talking to people about adoption. I also would love to help people through the adoption process.

I’ve decided that I want to become an adoption social worker. My dream and what I really would want to do is create (own, direct, run, etc.) my own pregnant teen home place, except bigger. Like a camp area, with out the camping part of it. Does that make sense? Hopefully it does. I want to help other pregnant girls figure out that maybe adoption is the right choice for them and help them go through that process. If they change their minds in the end, that’s OK, I want to help them figure out what they need to do next.

I have this awesome plan inside my head, and for what ever reason the plan for the actual building is a cross between the Winchester Mystery House, The Cinderella Castle from Disneyland, and Hogwarts. I have no idea why, just is, but regaurdless it will be awesome and I will help people.

It would be super cool if I could write a book about my adoption experience, but I don’t think it would be very popular. Unfortunately, not many books on adoption experiences are popular. :/

I’m proud to say I’m a birth mom. I’m pretty sure Katie and Greg are happy to be adoptive parents. Hopefully, Jude will one day feel open enough to say he was adopted to a loving family. Its a triangle we create with love as the connectors.

Happy National Adoption Month Everyone!

To everyone apart of the adoption triangle; BE PROUD AND STAY AWESOME!

Looking Back On One Year

This time last year was different. Last year at this time I was 19, taking online classes at the community college (and failing miserably I might add), working as a part time babysitter a few hours a day, and more importantly 39 weeks pregnant.

It was around 9:30 on a sunny Friday morning in mid October, that I was told that my baby was developed enough that I wanted, he could be born today. I agreed and that night, October 15th, 2010 at 6:23pm I had a beautiful baby boy, who was later named Jude.
On October 19th, 2010 Victor, Jude's father, and I signed adoption papers relinquishing Jude to the best adoptive parents we could have picked for him, Katie and Greg.

Today is October 15th, 2011. Which means exactly one year has passed. Jude is one year old today. So many things have changed in a year. I'm one year older, I go to school at the community college (and passing!), I've worked a few different jobs but now I'm a housekeeper and nanny for multiple families, and more importantly I'm the proud birth mother of a one year old son. With great change comes many lessons learned and knowledge gained, and boy howdy I've learn a lot.

I've learned that I'm a lot stronger person now, than I have ever been in my previous 19 years of life. I have been to hell and back for the last year and 9 months and I'm still here. I survived dammit! No one can take that away from me. I refuse the let anyone try to take that away from me.

I've learned that there is a greater love out in the world than I could have ever imagined. I found that love the moment I laid my eyes on Jude. My love for Jude will never go away. No matter what the distance. No matter what the circumstances will be. He is the love of my life, the reason I strive to be a better person and work hard for a better life, and the reason I grew up. Nothing or no one can or will change that.

I have learned who in my family I can really count on and which of my "friends" are really my friends. Which one's I can trust to be by my side in my hour of need and support me anyway they can. The ones that stayed I love even more now and I owe then so much gratitude. They have no idea how much I appreciate them.


Being a birth mom has taught me a few things as well. I got all sorts of advice on how to go through my depression, how to handle my adoption, and what to do when (insertsituation here). Here's what I think are the biggest things I have learned through my experience.

No matter how sure you are of your decision, no matter how much you love the adoptive family your giving your baby too, and no matter how much you coach yourself before hand, giving that baby up will be the hardest thing you have ever done. You will be depressed. You will cry, sob, bawl, and possibly scream, wishing you could take your baby back. It goes away eventually; the pain and the tears. This is natural and even needed, just don't expect everything to be fine afterwards. Then you get frustrated that your not OK, which makes you even more upset and then it just becomes a vicious cycle.


Find Birth mom friends as soon as you can. Whether its through a support group,coincidence, or Tumblr. I became a much better person when I met other birth moms, and they have helped me so much. I wish I would have met them sooner. I reallyappreciate them and couldn't have made it through with out them. 

Help is very important. Go find it! Support groups, one on one therapy, blogging, arts and crafts, anti-depressants, anything that will help. No one expects you to do this alone. Help is a good thing, and there are many people out there who want to make sure that you come out happy in the end.

The most important thing (AND I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH!!!!) is that.....it will get better. People always would tell me that "Don't worry it gets better with time". Birth moms, friends, family, and even people from the blog. They always told me that "It will get better". I would think "How can it get better?" or "I know it gets better and I know the world keeps spinning and blah blah blah. I just want this horrible part to be over!" It turns out, they were right. Things get better. You don't know how it happens or even really when it happens. All of a sudden your thrown back into the world and you become so caught up in life that you find your self feeling better. It's a wonderful feeling. It's the start of you feeling like you again.

So, today, on my son's first birthday, I'm frantically cleaning the house and buying decorations for a party I'm throwing for him tomorrow. I'm reflecting on the fact that a year has gone by. I'm blogging for you lovely people. The oddest of them all, I'm not crying. I don't think I will. Today is nothing more than a happy beautiful day. Tomorrow is an exciting fun day. From their another year of adventures begin.

Happy Birthday Jude

I Love You

Representations

I have lots of things around my room and stuff that reminds me of Jude. It was bound to happen. “Real” moms have momentos of their babies, children, teenagers, adults. Mostly through pictures and drawings. Some have scrapbooks, left over baby clothes and blankets, old toys, and hospital papers. Over time though those things can be seen as junk because those moms have the memories and the actual experience to back those mementos up. Birth Moms, our representations and things that remind us of our kids and the adoption is all we have. Jude’s parents will get to see Jude take his first steps and always remember that moment. I, at best, will get a video of the moment. Which for me I’m happy with, ecstatic actually, but the memory I will have is opening my email and seeing that I have a new message from Greg with the video attached. Nothing special, very mundane actually because I check my email everyday. Its the small things that we find and have that make us feel like were involved some how. That make us feel connected to that baby we lost, with out being connected if that makes sense. 

The major one I have is a burping cloth that I stole from the hospital that Jude used a lot. 

I sleep with it every night. It never leaves my bed or inside of my pillow. I don’t take it anywhere because I want to preserve the smell of baby on it. I have never washed it and never will. I will always have this with me and remember the hospital nights I had him. I loved sitting him right on top of me or right next to me and we would watch TV. I would make the nurses come in and change DVDs out for me (hehe >:] ). When ever he got fussy and I had tried everything to make him better, I would just out him on top of my chest, rub his back, and sometimes sing “his” song. That cloth would be on my shoulder all the time in case he needed to burp and would spit up.

I love Juicy Couture! With a passion. I can’t fit into their clothes because I’m a real woman and have fat, but I love their jewelry. I have a charm bracelet with 4 charms on it (so far). 1 represents Victor, 1 represents my love for my sister, and 2 of them represent Jude. 

Jude has always been a good eater. He came out eating. Swear to god, he came out, they took his sugar levels and they were low, he was given a bottle. So he literally came out eating. He has been a good eater since. When he was first born though, he only cried when he wanted food. He would fuss for everything else, but it was a full on cry with tears and all for food. Every time he cried though, he snorted as well like a little piggy. I saw the flying pig in Juicy it was perfect. His wings were always represented the adoption. He needed to fly away and have a better life. His “wings” will hopefully take him on amazing journeys that I could have only imagined for him. The second charm is a little more obvious its a baby bottle with the word “baby” in blue. I got this represent this first year, a very hard and difficult year, hopefully the worse of the years to come. I am losing a baby and gaining a toddler soon. He’ll be one, and I am just amazed that the amount of time has gone by. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. Its a happy and sad fact, sad only because you begin to miss the baby stuff but happy in so many different ways.

I have a bunch of pictures. This is the nicest one I have. I blocked Jude’s face with the top of a Tiffany’s box.

Katie and Greg gave me this frame when Jude was born. I love it a lot. I have a couple of other pictures around my room. One of my mom and Jude and one of my mom, my sister, and me with Jude in my lap. I have a small wallet sized one in my planner that I got in a thanksgiving card of Jude grabbing his ear. Then my phone lock screen and background is a pictures of Jude. The lock screen is always a picture of Jude by him self and the background is always a picture of Jude and me.

The last thing I have is a scrapbook of pregnancy up to the last day in the hospital. I’ve got ultrasound pictures, 4-d ultrasound pictures, pictures of me when I was pregnant, many MANY pictures during the delivery and in the hospital, his hospital tags and mine, his clothes and hat from the hospital, his “birth” certificate, and the hospital papers with his foot prints on them. I put it together in a scrapbook way with fancy paper and stickers. I did it the first and second weeks I was out of the hospital and the adoption was fresh. It really helped me through the whole thing, gave me something to focus on.  

I love all of these things and the meaning they have for me. It’s ok to have things like this in life, even if your a birth mom. Just don’t become a pack rat, hoarder, or obsessive.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

One would think that in adoption precess there are only a few people involved. How wrong they are. Ideally, it would just be you, the babies father (possibly), and the adoptive parents. Nope. Far from it. Every decision I made effected the baby, Victor, Katie and Greg, My parents, Victor’s parents, Katie’s and Greg’s Parents, the rest of my family, the rest of Victor’s family, the rest of Katie’s and Greg’s family, my friends, Victor’s friends, Katie’s and Greg’s friends, the doctor, the lawyer, and the list goes on and on.

The truth is, no matter how much you would like to think its no one’s business, everyone thinks it is there business. Nothing can be done about it, its human nature to be in everyones lives. It’s why Tumblr, Myspace, and Facebook do so well.

The real problem is with that many people involved, there are going to be different opinions and points of views shared. Which can result in arguments and angry exchanges. Trust me, its damn near impossible to keep everyone happy. 

Victor and I had to deal with a lot of peoples bull during the pregnancy. My dad kicked me out of “his” family while I was pregnant. My mom and sister couldn’t possibly understand how I could kept the baby through pregnancy. Victor’s parents wanted us to keep the baby and his mother practically begged me to do so. I agruement with one of my friends over my idea of the kind of parents I should look into for Jude; she valued money over love and I was the opposite. This continued on and on until the day Jude was born.

Oh, it doesn’t after the adoption ends either. There’s always something on one side or the other. My mom worries about me all the time because I’m sad about something having to do with the adoption. Sadly because of this, she has a bit of a negative out look on the adoption. My dad has always had a negative out look on the adoption. He refers to Jude as “Fresno”, a town near where Katie, Greg, and Jude live. He’ll say, “So…..How’s Fresno?” Yeah, I know. I’ve even gotten into a tiff or two with Katie via email because of things we say or want. 

The Solution: Do what you feel is right. Its the same thing that we have been doing for our selves and our babies from day one. We know what is the right thing to do for ourselves has been since day one, why should it change now. There will always be people in your life thinking they know better than you, and on occation they might. But in general, you are in control of your life and happiness. You can’t make everyone happy, but you can inform them that your incontrol of this situtation, not them. 

My mom only knows one side of the story, and I try to remind her of that fact. My dad is just a douche and one day I’ll tell him that. And while Katie and I have our differences, we want the same end goal; to do the best thing for Jude. 

Thats all I have ever wanted for Jude. I’m pretty sure thats what any mother wants for her children. I know that all of his birth family wants that for Jude as well, and when he is ready they are all waiting for him with big smiles and open arms. 

Why Oh Why Do I?

I'm sit here watching Julie and Julia, with Amy Adams and Meryl Streep on my first real day off in a long time. There's no one here but me, my dogs, my cats, and my fish. I watch Julie run back and forth trying to cook her way through the cookbook and blog about it. I watch Julia cook her way into fame. As I watch this movie, I can't help to think, why do they do it?

Why does Julie continue on with this blog even though it put her through many problems? Why does Julia cook and write her cook book when her life gets turned upside down every 2 years or so? Why do we do it bloggers with a purpose? Why do we write about our problems, thoughts, feelings, fears, and advice down for others to hear?

I used to think that I was writing this blog in order to help other birth moms and to show the other side of adoption. I didn't want other birth moms feeling alone, like I did and sometimes how I still do. Julia Child started to write her book as a favor to her friends. Julie Powell wrote hers ultimately out of spite and to prove she could write a blog, she just happened to choose a topic that she enjoyed.

These last few weeks I haven't been able to think of anything to write about, well nothing that would be an appropriate subject. I have been too busy with work, school, and drama with other people that I hadn't been able to dwell on any kind of pain or even just think about Jude in dept. I hate not writing because I feel like I'm letting others down. I hate talking about nothing though. There are some weeks though where I think, "WHY AM I DOING THIS? No one listens anyway."

This is one of those weeks. I'm feeling a little hope less in everything. I know the sun will shine again and my life will get better, but I seem to be a little blue. There's nothing in particular causing my color change, it just is. Its weeks like this I wish I could write, say my thoughts and feelings and such. Nothing comes out though, my motivation isn't there.

Until I hear (or read) this: "I love your blog. I'm a birth mother as well and I think you write very honestly and I can't wait to read more. Thank You :)"

So, Why do we write? Well, I can't speak for everyone, but I write for that reason above. I write for the others out there who don't feel alone anymore. I write in hopes of changing some one's point of view of a birth mother. Lastly, I write to save my self and will continue to do so.

I wanna thank every body who reads this blog. With out you, I would have only one reason to write and that is not enough for me. I hope I'm helping you in some way and that you continue to enjoy what comes.

Support: The Birthfather

I thought this week I would talk about the birthfather this week since I am royally pissed off at Jude's birthfather at this moment in time. The argument is not adoption related, so I wont go into detail about it. This argument we had has led me to rethinking our entire "relationship" and think back to everything we went threw together, including the pregnancy and adoption.

Birth fathers can be a really good support system. There the other half of the whole you grow while your pregnant. They can be there for you when other's can't and help with the decision making.

I think talking about birth dad's and their roles in this whole process because I find a lot of women have a very skewed idea about it. Now, every man, woman, and relationship is different so don't take what I say as fact. I've noticed (through TV shows [like Teen Mom and 16 and Pregnant], books, internet pages, other blogs and my own experience) that women who become pregnant in a situation that is less than the social norm have either very high expectations or very low expectations of how the birthfather will be involved from that point on. I find that the one's who had high expectations for their guy were highly disappointed in the end. For example, take most of the dads on MTV'S 16 and pregnant. I think that most of those "men" are complete immature losers and I have never met anyone who has disagreed with me. Yet, all of those girls expect the guys to marry them, move in with them, or at least be a huge help during the pregnancy and after the baby is born. Most of those girls found themselves disappointed in the end. The girls with low expectations usually have reasons to have low expectations. The guys they got pregnant might be abusive, were a one night stand, or realize the person is a loser before they got pregnant. There expectations are usually met, but some are pleasantly surprised.

What is often forgotten is that when guys find out that their going to fathers, it changes them. It affects them. They are now the creator of a human being and are responsible for that human's well being for the rest of his life. IT IS A SCARY THOUGHT. The difference between men and women though, is how long that thought stays with them. Women are reminded everyday for 9 months of this thought. When we get huge, throw up, feel an internal kick, and eventually go into possibly many hours of labor those are all reminders. We create, take care of, are responsible for, and bring to life a human being. Men however, don't feel any of that. How can they? They don't need to carry a baby for nine months and then give birth. Men aren't naturally reminded that their responsible for a new person. For that reason and many others, some men choose to leave and not be involved. Others though, rise to the occasion. It all just depends on what kind of guy he is.

I'm not saying that if he is a loser don't be mad at him for being a loser. BE MAD! Cry, bitch, insult him, do what ever you want within legal limits. All I'm saying is that when it comes to people, especially the birth father, don't expect . . . well don't expect anything. Having high or low expectations in an adoption is only going to make things harder. The adoption was a day by day thing with me, no matter what and who I was dealing with. One day I would be happy with my decision, the next I would cry over it; Some days I hated being pregnant, others I would love being pregnant. With Victor, Jude's biological father, it was the same way.

Let me tell you about Victor first, because he's not what you would call normal. Victor is average height, average weight, blue eyes, dark blonde/light brown hair, pale skin, looks like the average joe. Victor though has a kind of Autism known as Aspergers. Nothing is really wrong with him mentally, in fact its the opposite, he is incredibly smart. He would probably legally be considered a genius if he took the I.Q. test. What his Aspergers does effect is his social skills, not to a drastic level, but enough for it to be noticeable. He doesn't respond to social norms, empathy is a hard concept to grasp, and he uses reason before emotion. These are not bad things, but they do make things harder and more interesting.

I met Victor in 7th grade during science class. He was a new student and had walked in like he has been here as long as the rest of us had. The moment I saw him, I was done for. It was another month or two before I actually had a conversation with him. From that moment on we were inseparable. We dated on and off for 7 years, but in January 2010 ended it for good. He no longer loved me romantically, but didn't want to loose me as a friend. I was devastated and heart-broken. One month later, almost exactly I found out I was pregnant. Victor and I laugh about this little bit of irony now.

At first I had low expectations of Victor. I knew him pretty well and every bit of me said he was going to not be involved. He was busy all the time with school, homework, doing his grandmother's and parents bidding, working, and his friends. The fact that he had time for me while we were dating was nothing short of a miracle. Not only that but he hates kids, especially babies. Even pregnant women make him very nervous and the idea of me being pregnant would be ten times worse for him. All signs told me to not tell him and keep him out of the loop, but I couldn't. It wasn't fair to him and who was to make this choice for him? So after I hid the positive pregnancy test I went over to Victor's house and told him.

I was right about one thing, he freaked out all right, but it was worse than I imagined. He spent the first 10-20 minutes using every swear word imaginable in every room in the house. After he calmed down, I told him what I think needed to be decided first; his involvement. I would have to go to the doctor first to have the test confirmed, but I needed to know, no matter what the out come would be, if he was going to be there or not. Before I wanted him to make his decision, I told him what exactly what I wanted and expected out of his involvement. I didn't want some half-assed involvement with him. If he was going to be involved, then he was going to be INVOLVED. He would have to go to doctors appointments with me, any other appointments with me, and make decisions with me. It would have to be a full commitment to me, but we didn't have to get back together, get married, or anything along those lines. We talked everything out, he told me how he was feeling, I told him how I was feeling, and we even cracked a joke or two.

We talked and thought about this for about an hour or two. He went back and forth between being involved and not being involved, whether he could actually help in anyway or not, and if can actually commit to it all or not. I told him he didn't need to decide now, but he did need to decide soon. I went back to Monterey the next day. A few days later I went to the doctors, got a positive test result, and called Victor to tell him the news. That weekend, Victor came to visit me. Every time he visited me, we would sleep in the parking lot in front of my building in the back of his Suburu. We talked about his final decision. I reminded him  what being involved entailed and what the next steps would be if he chose to be involved. He told me that he wanted to do the right thing, and for him the right thing was staying with me and helping me with the pregnancy.

I couldn't have been more happier. He promised he would do the best he could, and he kept his promise. He went with me to as many doctors appointments as he could. He would visit me and make time to see me when I was home. He went to every adoption related appointment with me and kept me entertained. Sometimes he was more than happy to do something pregnancy related with me and other times making him do something pregnancy related with me was like pulling teeth. No matter what though, he was always there for me. The day I went to the hospital, he was there in the room with me. He visited everyday and spent the night one night. Even though he doesn't like babies, he would hold Jude for me with out complaining.

He wasn't perfect though, there were times where he would do something that annoyed me, he would have to miss an appointment because of school or an event, or because he wasn't spending enough time with me. The biggest disappointment was when he left right after the papers were signed the last day we had with Jude, the last day in the hospital. He didn't think it was a big deal, so he left and went to school. It still makes me sad to this day.

After everything though, he's still there for me. He listens when I cry, he offers to come with me on visitations (even though he doesn't really want to see Jude), and he gives me his opinion. The thing that I always seem to forget is that Victor's life changed too. Even though he's not as involved as I am or feels the same way about Jude and the adoption, he is still effected by the pregnancy and adoption. He never really says anything about his feelings, but the few times he does, you can see the pain on his face.

No matter how pissed off I do get at him, I will always be grateful for Victor being there when I needed him. I hope other birth moms that were lucky enough to have support from their partners are grateful to them as well. Birth dads do not need to be there if they don't want to be. If they are there then they deserve some credit.

The Things I Think About

Thursday
I'm sitting around a large wooden table in a conference room in Salinas. I drove through rain and wind to get here on time. I sit at the end of the table with six other women, two of them birth mothers, one of them an adult adoptee, one them is a birth mom and an adoptee, and the last two women run the meeting. Oddly enough all the birth moms there had sons, like me. They are all older than me, they lived in a different time and society had different views on adoption. They listen to me, the new-girl, explain how I feel, what has gone on since the last time we met, and share pictures. I listen to them say how it gets easier over time, how they dealt/deal with their feelings, their personal experiences, and how they're doing now. Their son's are grown, some with children of their own. The adoptees explain their feelings of anger, abandonment, and fear of meeting their biological parents.

I think about my own experience. I think about how Jude might feel when he's older. Will he hate me? Will he be angry with me for giving him up, for "abandoning" him? Will I be what he expects or wants me to be? I think about how much I miss him and his smile.

Friday
I'm sitting in a small room on a couch very low to the ground. I'm talking to my therapist, a petite woman with short hair. She listens to me bitch about my dad and amber and the recent trouble I've gotten in with them. I tell her about my pregnancy and my circle of support. I talk about my mom, Sarah, my friends, and Victor. We talk about school, the weather, and the small details of my life. I reflect on the life I lived, the life I did live, the life I could have lived, and the life I want to live.

I think about the life Jude could have had with me. I think about how we would have lived, the environment he would had grown up in, what I would have had to do to make sure we could live, and how his life would have been. I cry thinking about how grateful I am that I found Katie and Greg. I think about how much I miss him.

Saturday
I worked all day. I didn't have time to think deeply about Jude. At night, I pack for my three day trip. I fall asleep holding the hospital blanket I stole the day I left. It used to smell like him. It used to smell like newborn baby. I hold it, wishing it still smelled like him.

I think about how much I miss him.

Sunday
I watched snow fall. I drove to my family's condo in Tahoe alone. It was a long drive and my first time driving in snow. The condo hadn't changed since the last time I had been there. I get myself settled in and watch the snow fall.

I think about inviting Katie and Greg to come up with Jude one time. I think about if they'll teach him skiing or snowboarding. I think about the future he'll have that I wont see. I think about how much I miss him.

Monday
I took a tour of UNR. I watched people my age go to class, run fundraising booths for sororities and fraternities, hanging out in the dining commons with friends. All things I should be doing right now in my life. I went back to the condo and went out snowboarding the rest of the day. I rode the best I ever had in my life and ended up with the lower half of my face sunburned. I watched TV the rest of the night. I think about what my life was before I got pregnant.

I think about what I wish my life was like. I think about what my life would have been like if I had never gotten pregnant. I think about how it wouldn't have been the same. I think about how much I miss him.

Tuesday
I went out to my favorite breakfast place, cleaned the condo, and drove home all day. I looked at pictures of him when I got home and watched the short movie I made for him the last night I had him in the hospital. I cried for most of the day.

I think about if I'll ever be able to share my favorite and special places in the world. I think about the last few days and reflect what I thought about. I cry thinking about how much I miss him.



Every day is different. Every day I think about new things. One thing stays the same though. No matter what happens. No matter how happy, sad, angry I may be. No matter how far I travel. I will always think about how much I miss Jude, and more importantly, I will always think about how much I love him.

Support in Breif

I've been thinking a lot about support these days. Where it comes from, what kinds, and the support I received and I didn't receive. There things that were objective, things that everyone needs. Financial support, health, food, a place to stay these are all things everyone needs; pregnant or not. Subjectively, women planning on giving up their babies and adoptive parents as well, need emotional support. I say its subjective because every person is different. Some need more emotional support than others and some need less. Unfortunately not every girl receives emotional support, standard support, or both.

I was lucky enough to have a supportive family (mostly), partner, and friends who helped anyway they could. I was covered by my step dad's insurance, my parents let me move back home with them after my first year of college was over (and even now), Katie, Greg, Natty, and many others helped me out with clothes (either buying me new ones or giving me hand-me-downs), and I found a part time jobs babysitting (ironic I know) to pay for other expenses. My standard support system was set and sturdy.

My emotional support was iffy, because in some areas it was better than other areas. I received huge amounts of support from my mom and Victor. They were my rocks and I wouldn't have made it through this process with out them. Sara was supportive, but it was (and still is) her senior year and had a life of her own going on. She came threw in the end though, when I needed her most. I had friends that always wanted to know how I was doing and would visit me. Victor was great at taking me out and going with me to places. I get bored very easily and when your pregnant your options on stuff to do is limited. He went with me almost everywhere; movies, the drive-in, the Renaissance Faire, the beach and anywhere else I wanted. Plus he was easy to talk to. We were always comfortable with each other and talk about everything. He was also, as awful as this sounds, was the person I could really yell at about stuff and cry with. I there were only two people who really didn't support me (or at least I felt like they didn't) and that was my dad and Amber. They had their own idea's of how I should have dealt with my pregnancy and decided to handle my situation with other people very poorly (at least in my opinion. You ask them and they'll tell you their doing the right thing).

Outside resources are a great way to get support. One on One therapy can certainly help. Just having some one listen to your problems that is a natural person. She doesn't have any connections or preferences with the adoptive parents or the birth parents. She is just a bystander hearing your side of the story and giving   Support groups are great if u can find them. I live in one of the most populated cities in Cali. and I can't find a single support group here. I do attend one in Salinas though (about an hour south of San Jose) and I love it. I was the youngest one there, and the only one with an open adoption. I may be the youngest there, but these women were my age once and thought the same things and felt the same feelings as me at one point or another. I value what they have to say and have so many different point of views on adoption, how to deal with their emotions, how to move on, and other things that I'm dealing with right now. Blogs, websites, forums, and chat rooms are another great source. Righting this blog has really helped me just say what I need to say. Sometimes I've got so many thoughts going on about Jude and the adoption as a whole I need to just tell someone. But sometimes the person you end up telling has different feelings on the subject, gets the wrong ideas, or is biased towards you or another person. Here I can just say what I want and need to say with out worrying about others. Be carful though, not all blogs and websites are pro-adoption and not all chat rooms and forums are filled with birth moms looking for support.

These support systems doesn't just come from other people though. YOU need to support yourself. If your depending on other people all the time thats how you'll live your life, and one day all those people you counted on wont be there any more and you wont know know how to take care of your self. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done with out my friends and family supporting me, but ultimately it was my own support that got me through. Telling myself (either out loud or in my head) "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this." got me through the last day at the hospital, the 30 days afterwards I could have changed my mind, the first and second visit, and it will probably get me threw other situations I'll face in the future. If you can't support your self, to have confidence in your self and your decisions, in one of the most important situations in your life, how can you support your self any other time in your life?