Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Clueless Clutter

Survey Says

Here is some clueless clutter for you in case you needed more evidence of how far we have to go when it comes to infertility and adoption education.

Lori at Lavender Luz.com writes about the adoption-themed commercial put out by Kay Jewelers. Lori writes," How many adoption ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into a 30-second commercial?"
How many adoption stereotypes ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into one 30-second commercial?
Read more at http://lavenderluz.com/2014/02/kay-jewelers-failed-adoption-ad.html#owQTe0MkrWzjtb36.99
How many adoption stereotypes ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into one 30-second commercial
Read more at http://lavenderluz.com/2014/02/kay-jewelers-failed-adoption-ad.html#owQTe0MkrWzjtb36.99
How many adoption stereotypes ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into one 30-second commercial
Read more at http://lavenderluz.com/2014/02/kay-jewelers-failed-adoption-ad.html#owQTe0MkrWzjtb36.99
How many adoption stereotypes ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into one 30-second commercial
Read more at http://lavenderluz.com/2014/02/kay-jewelers-failed-adoption-ad.html#owQTe0MkrWzjtb36.99
How many adoption stereotypes ad myths, much general cluelessness can be crammed into one 30-second commercial
Read more at http://lavenderluz.com/2014/02/kay-jewelers-failed-adoption-ad.html#owQTe0MkrWzjtb36.99
Read "Every Diss Begins with This Kay Commercial" and view the commercial and share your own thoughts and comments.

Let's interview real people with these experiences to get an idea of who to market to and how to do it in the best way. Better yet, let's not do it in the first place. Adoption is not something you can wrap up in a little box for a 30 second spot on TV.

The second post comes from Mel at Stirrup-Queens.

Mel writes that US News & World Report covered a study last week that found that women who don’t have a child after fertility treatments are three times more likely to divorce than women who do.  27% of the women overall were not living with their partner anymore, though a larger chunk of that 27% were women without children than women with children.

The researchers in Denmark reported that they were surprised by the findings and " that the effect lasted so long.”

*note: The article is no longer found on US News & World Report's website.

Click over to read Mel's entire post, "Researchers are Stunned that Infertility is Stressful"

I should neither be stunned nor shocked that people are surprised that the affects and aftermath of infertility are so damaging. It goes along with the "just adopt" or "you can have my kids! (ha ha)." But it is still upsetting that infertility is so misunderstood. We need to keep writing, advocating and sharing our stories to help make some changes and bridge the gap of understanding between the physical and the emotional side effects of infertility.

*image provided by commons.wikimedia

Monday, February 3, 2014

Rage Against the Addiction

Image courtesy of Lionsgate

The death of Philip Seymour Hoffman hits close to home. He grew up in Rochester, NY living only 25 minutes from my home. He has family here and often returned to his alma mater, Fairport High School. I am sad not only because he was truly a talented man but because he perished so young. There are many news stories circulating about the circumstances of his death being caused by an over dose. Hoffman struggled with addiction for many years.

Yesterday I saw about a half a dozen different news outlet's headlines popping up in my newsfeed. All were saying roughly the same thing- wonderful actor, too young, gentle and kind man. When I began reading the comments posted to the news posts, I was beyond upset and even disgusted at what some people wrote. When someone dies due to addiction, it does not diminish their death or their life, for that matter. I know it is hard for people to understand that even though one can "choose" to begin using a certain drug or "choose" to drink alcohol, what they do not "choose" is the pre-disposed, biological mind-set that puts so many individuals down this path. Addiction is a disease and an extremely sad one at that.

Imagine being so distraught, depressed and even physically ill and dependent on a substance, that it controls your entire life. Who would "choose" that?

I am deeply saddened for this man and his family. My heart goes out to them for having to put up with heartless individuals who will comment on the way he died- judging him. How hurtful that must be when already mourning the loss of your husband, father, son or friend.

The world lost a gifted man too soon. No matter how many times we see this happen in Hollywood, it does not become less sad or thought provoking. It is the gifted people, the inwardly focused and reflective artists who often suffer from mental illness and addiction. They feel very deeply and often struggle with depression; addiction is one way they cope with their mental illness or hard ship. This is another chance for our society to better understand addiction and mental illness- not berate this man for losing his own battle way too young.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

And Now We Say Good-Bye

We said good bye to my grandmother yesterday. She had a long battle with dementia. For those of you who have experienced this illness in your family, you know how hard it is to slowly say good bye to your loved one. Ever so slowly. Each time you see them a little bit more is gone. It is particularly painful to see the light in their eyes fade. Recognition and vitality dissipate until there is almost nothing there but a shell of a person. My grandmother's physical body was extremely healthy. But a wilted spirit will take it's toll on the physical. And finally at age 92 her body gave out and she is now at peace.

I imagine she is laughing with my grandfather again. They are reunited after almost 9 years. She has probably already made a couple dozen friends in her new world. Isabel was always a very social and chatty person. She could talk to anyone, and she always made you feel special. I envision her smiling again with that sparkle in her sky blue eyes. Forever she can be the woman we loved.

I miss her, but I have missed her for years.

She was such a wonderful Grandma. She and my grandfather lived in Arizona all of my childhood. It would have been nice to have them close by, but it was great having such a cool place to visit. My brother and I would go out for a few weeks at a time. Living out west is like being in an entirely new world compared to the north east. We drove through desert towns with huge cactus. We visited rodeos and rode horses. My grandfather had a candy drawer. Yup, an entire drawer. He loved butterscotch candies, chocolate covered raisins and Wherther's Original. We watched the lightning storms on their huge deck that overlooked the entire city. We ate popcorn and peanuts, throwing the shells over the rail of the deck. But mostly my memories consist of being in their home, making the guest room my own and feeling safe and loved.

That is what grandparents are for.

My grandmother never missed an occasion to send a card. Her cursive handwriting very familiar and easy to read. It is the same writing that labeled every gift she ever bought. She loved to catalogue items. Her memories were thick and plentiful. Her labels are a gift in themselves as we find things and realize when, where and who gave them to us.

We named our baby girl after my grandmother's mother. I was told that when my Grandma found out what we named her, she cried with happiness. She always wanted a baby in the family by that name. I was glad I could give that gift to her when so many things that once brought her joy were taken away. Yesterday the baby was in her high chair waiting to be fed, and I felt so grateful for the hope that she offers in this time of loss.  Her life is just beginning and my grandmother's has ended.

I am lucky to have had my grandmother this long. But I am also grateful that her suffering is over and that she died peacefully in her sleep. It is never easy to lose a loved one. It doesn't matter that I am 35 and she was 92. Her life is over and I miss her. I miss all of the things I can't ever get back, and it is hard.

Soon our family will gather together to reminisce and celebrate her life. The photographs have already started to circulate of family get-togethers and special times. I look forward to reliving these memories with the help of my family members. These are the images I will take with me when I am missing she and my grandpa.

May joy and peace surround you,
Contentment latch your door,
And happiness be with you now,
And bless you evermore.
-Irish Blessing

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

My Middle Man

You know in the movies when a parent is talking to their grown child and they have a flashback of when they were little? Like in Father of the Bride when George Banks listens as Annie tells him she is getting married. I have been having those visions a lot lately of my three year old, Wee. He is three and a half and every day that goes by he loses a part of his baby qualities. As he sits in his brother's chair trying to eat his lunch, the soup dribbles down his chin because he is too far away from the table. My mind races forward to when he is a young man sitting in the same seat talking to me about girls and sports wolfing down his dinner before practice.

I know time will escape me like that.

I try so hard to remember the every day.

In the past six months Wee's language has exploded. He has been home almost two years, and it has been such a joy to hear him speak what we knew to be very dramatic and funny thoughts. As a new phrase or word comes into play I can't help but smile. We are finally putting a voice to his rambunctious behavior and I love it!

He is a tiny guy, just fitting into his big brother's 2T pants and shirts. When I tell people this, they are surprised. He doesn't seem small because he has such a big personality. When Wee is in the room, people's gaze gravitates toward him. He is funny and cute and bursting with energy.

He is our actor. He knows what to say and when to say it. And he isn't afraid of anything.

Even stitches.

I recently made my first trip to the Emergency Room where Wee received three dissolvable stitches near his eye. He charmed everyone there as he usually does, gaping wound and all. I told the nurse as we left that I would probably be seeing her again. She chuckled. I sighed.

His is an intolerable age at times. Three is all-knowing, want to do it myself, opinionated, testing the limits. But three is also still a baby in many ways, needing help with everything. Wee makes me so mad, but I take deep breathes and let it pass because I know that in the next five minutes I will be giggling and squeezing him in a big hug as he tries to get away. And when he falls or gets hurt and runs to me crying, I pull him on my lap and hug him tight. Don't cry, my baby boy.

He is so lovable.

I love his sticky hands, sweet smell, and completely silly antics. I love it when he comes down the stairs in his pajamas wearing his cape and sunglasses while carrying his lunchbox. He often has food in his hair from the previous meal. I try to keep up with him but often cannot. I feel that this will be our relationship forever. He will always make me laugh after swearing I will ground him for life. His middle child status in our familial chain couldn't be more suitable for Wee. He will always stand out roaring for attention. He's our perfect match.

I asked him the other day who his best friend is and he said, Min. It is times like these when my heart leaps out of my chest. Just like when Wee says hi to his sister every morning and she giggles and laughs. The love emanates between them; it is the most beautiful sight. I love watching their faces as they play and hug each other and communicate the way young children do.

"Mom, I love my sister." My eyes well up.

I am so lucky.

While writing this he crawled onto my bed and asked if he can help me. True to form he is toting his fake ipad, a set of keys and play money that he continuously tries to "flip." I cannot get anything done with him around, but I have learned there is nothing more important than talking to him and listening to his ramblings about blowing his nose like daddy and where he hid some of his latest treasures. I am forever waiting for the punch line.

When you raise adopted children, there is a sense of wonder about who they are and where they get their characteristics. I look into Wee's chocolaty brown eyes and wonder who I am seeing. They are faceless people but so real and so present in my child. Now that I have experienced pregnancy and child birth, my heart aches more profoundly when thinking about my boys birth mothers. I feel closer to them because I can see more clearly now how completely selfless they were to give them up for adoption. I am raising these boys because they could not, and I feel that weight. I am more than ready for that responsibility.

If we meet someday, she will understand my gratitude to her. I can only hope she thinks I did a good enough job.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Perfect Moment Monday

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between.
Visit Lavender Luz for more Perfect Moments.

I had a baby girl in April. We did not find out the sex of our baby prior to her birth. We wanted to be surprised and experience one of the very few surprises we get to have in life. Well, except for the fact that her conception and existence was a complete surprise to say the least.

We have two boys. I won't diminish my desire to have a girl. Thing is that I never doubted that my baby was a girl. And her arrival proved me right.

Nearly six months have gone by and it has been such a supreme pleasure to watch my boys with their baby sister. Endearing and heart melting are just two ways to describe what happens when I see them dote on her and fight to give her back her toy or pacifier. They make her giggle and smile from ear to ear. She adores them and they adore her.

My perfect moment is witnessing how my boys love their sister. I so look forward to the day that she can wrap her arms around them and run and play with them. She will always be their biggest fan.



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