Perspective

I have had people ask if I think adopting is easier than a regular pregnancy. My response is, "It tell you when I get through the "labor" part." I know our pregnancies have been about the worst on the planet but the adoption process has challenged many parts of me. However, with challenge also comes growth and the adoption process has changed the way I will view the world forever.

First, it has reminded me not to be judgmental. Last year when I was working in one of my kids classrooms there was a child that was particularly hard to work with. She threw tantrums and said harsh things about herself and to the other kids and I had little patience with her. A few weeks ago I saw the same child on a website that photo listed foster children with the hopes of having them adopted and all the sudden I could have kicked myself for being so insensitive. Here was a little girl with a traumatic background that needed long term parents to love and teach her and I was grouchy about giving her ten minutes of my time. I know that judging is part of our genetic makeup but I hope the shame of that moment is something I remember for a long time.

Secondly, I have had to find a realistic limit to not just my own abilities but also the collective abilities of our family. It has been eye opening to have to fill out a check list if we can take a child that is blind, has mental retardation, cerebral palsy, or has been sexually abused. There are strengths that I have that are different than Paxton's and things he is great and that I'm not so good at. Now that we are looking a foster kids that come with a wide variety of issues, we are going to have use all our skills. But, we also have to decided what our limits are. We recently found out about two little brothers that need parents but as we found out more about them we found out that they were so very handicapped that we could not provide what they needed and still give our own children the time they need. It was so hard to have these little boys be so close and who so obviously need a family and to say that we can't do it. I have no doubt that we made the right decision but it is so hard to do. We know that there are skills that we have that will benefit a child with needs but this situation was beyond what we could do well.

Finally I am struggling to learn the positive and negative consequences of people's free agency. So far we have had contact with parents that have kept their kids because they want welfare checks, a dad who wanted to claim paternity for his son but not for his daughters, a baby boy born to a teenage mom that was abused by a family member, a mother who had seven children that all ended up in foster care, and several mothers who substance abused during their pregnancies. It is very difficult for me how to see how innocent children can take the brunt of the their parents mistakes. The only comfort I find from these situations is that for some of them there is hope. Hope for a forever family, hope for parents that can love them unconditionally, hope that they will have the childhood that they have been robbed of, hope that they can someday understand that they deserve love and attention and that they have an infinite value.

Each of my children have taught me many lessons and this child has done that even before I have met him. When I was pregnant with my other children I often prayed for them. Now it is different to be praying for the little boy that will be my son. That somewhere he is being cared for and that somehow he can feel that we are looking for him and that we love him.

Sand Dunes

This is a fun little camping spot. We have figured out how to make camping simplified. We pick up a pizza and eat it in the car on the way down. Then we play at the dunes and wear the kids out. Set up our stuff, roast marshmallows, tell stories put the kids down. Then get up, pack up and stop by the local Wal-Mart for milk and doughnuts for breakfast and head home. It simplifies packing but I still managed to forget my own sleeping bag and ended up sleeping in the car (and fighting with our four pound dog that kept trying to steal my blanket!)

Bad News

I found out last night my sisters tumor was cancerous. She will have to start aggressive radiation and chemotherapy right away. Her poor body has been through so much already. Anyone with extra room in their prayers please think of her and her family.

True Love and Bad Luck

A phone call this evening:

Paxton: Hello?
Me: Hi
Paxton (wondering why I am calling): How are you?
Me: Not so good. My hair is blue.
Paxton: Your hair is blue...
Me: Yeah, you know how I wanted to do something different. And you said that was fine as long as it was long and blond?
Paxton: Yes
Me:Well, I tried to dye it blonder and it turned a funny color orange. So, then I tried to dye it darker and the parts that were too blond turned blue.
Paxton: How blue?
Me: Kind of a greyish, purpleish, blue.
Shaylee: Mom, it is a little bit like old lady hair that is kind of blue. But it looks nice on you.
Me: Thank you Shaylee, I think...
Paxton: Can you fix it?
Me: that is what I tried to do before it turned blue.
Paxton: Ok, don't to anything drastic before I come home.
Me: Like what? Shave my head? I think that is the only way to fix it. You will still love me right?
Paxton: I would always love you. Hair is just a bonus.
Me: Good. Tell me that when you get home.


Hopefully I will have a good post to follow this one.
Here is proof that the tips of my hair is now blue.
The pictures are for you Brook! I promise to never try to dye my own hair again.

Finally!

Our adoption paper work is finally done! That means we have access to foster children that are free for adoption and regular adoption through LDS Family Services. It is so crazy not knowing what is going to happen in the next six months! It is kind of like being pregnant but not knowing if you are having one or two, if they will have dark skin or light skin, if they will be infant or five. That makes it hard to prepare but we are up for the adventure!

Anyone who wants to can see our profile at

https://www.itsaboutlove.org/ial/search.jsf

and then search for Jaymie and Paxton (enter near the bottom of the screen).

Heaven knows we have been waiting long enough to have as Bryce would say, "a little brother who will stay here and play with me, cause the ones that go to heaven aren't much fun."

Wish us luck!

2 years later

It has been two years since we lost our little Colin. This year has been a relief from the hell of the year before. I guess it is true that time can heal, either that or I can handle more that I could before. The first year I cried myself to sleep nine out of ten nights, sometimes I was so sad it made me sick, and some days my kids and husband were the only reason I got out of bed. I can see how losing a child could really ruin someone's life. You don't just miss the baby you didn't get, but watching them learning to laugh, learning to walk, going to kindergarten, and someday graduating, going on a mission, and getting married. But gratefully, my understanding of eternal families and my faith and family has got me through the worst of this.

Now, two years later things are better. Not perfect, but better. I still have my moments but I have been able to walk through the baby boy's clothing section. I can go to a baby shower without bawling. I have recently even been able to touch and hold a baby boy. Honestly, being able to work on our adoption stuff has helped immensely. I have had to realize that one part of me is grieving over Colin and another part is grieving that I can't have any more children. I think that is really why Colin's birthday last year was so hard, I got hit with both at once. This week has been hard but a bad week is nothing compared to the two months of misery last year.

I remember last Thanksgiving I was teaching the 5 yr olds at church and we made "hand turkeys" and wrote something we were grateful for on each of the "feathers." I wrote Paxton's name on one and the kids names on the others and paused when I got to Colin. Was I really grateful for him? From the second I found out about his existence he had brought me nothing but pain, stress, fear and sadness. But in the four hours he lived he changed me more than all of my other children put together. He taught me patience, sacrifice, and unconditional love. He has taught me empathy for those who suffer. He brought me closer to my husband, my other children and my Savior. He gave me a glimpse into an eternity bigger than I can comprehend and gave me more motivation to live a good life so I can be worthy to stand by his side in heaven. I also think that he is a personal guardian angel for my other kids and heaven knows they need it. In the end I wrote Colin's name on the last feather and knew that I am really grateful for immense gift that only that tiny, tiny baby boy could give his mother.

These are shots of cemetery Colin is in. It is very quiet and peaceful in the middle of some farmland. With trucks, tractors, airplanes and wide open land, I can't imagine a better place for my little Idaho boy.

Heroes

It is pretty cool to read about heroes in books or stories but it is really cool when get to know one and extremely cool when you get to have one in your family. My sister Lindsay definitely falls into the hero category. Her life has been anything but easy but she has used all of her trauma to fuel a fire to help other people.

She was first diagnosed with a brain tumor when she was only two. After her first surgery she had to relearn how to talk and struggled keeping up with the other kids her first few years of school. Soon though, she was at the top of her class and was very much an advocate for anyone who struggled physically or emotionally. She was an excellent athlete, a wonderful artist, a gifted musician and a great student.

Then while I was home, in Cairo, from my freshman year of college a family friend of ours approached me and asked if Lindsay had ever had any seizures. He had thought he had seen her have a small seizure and so after many medical tests my family returned to the States. Lindsay struggled to attend classes at the local community college on increasing medication that made her speech slurred and her hands shake so badly it was hard to play the piano or paint. Eventually it was decided that the risks of surgery were greater than the risks of letting the tumor stay, so she was admitted to Johns Hopkins for a second surgery.

Lindsay's second surgery was successful and a few weeks later she became engaged to a good man (with great medical insurance). My mom told me that she was so excited, she left the house with out her head scarf to go ring shopping. In the next few years she moved to Hawaii, graduated from BYU-Hawaii with a BS in social work, had a beautiful little boy, moved to St. Louis to attend one of the best grad schools in the country for social work. She then worked with African refugees, foster kids that lived in a group home and at a battered women's shelter. She graduated with her Masters and had a second sweet little son. Soon after her baby was born the seizures started again.

In the last few months she has had to live in my parents house so they can take care of her and her boys while her husband tries to work in both Virginia and St. Louis. She couldn't drive, was on a cartload of medications and couldn't be alone in case she had another seizure. After waiting for almost eight months in fear and uncertainty she went in to her third brain surgery. While I was with her in the hospital, even while in considerable pain, she was concerned about me and my comfort, talking to me about how excited she was about our adoption and telling me about the foster kids she had worked with.

She was discharged this last Saturday and is doing relatively well. Her two surgeries in ten days left her in excruciating pain for several days but seems to have been successful. I know she is self-conscious about what years of surgery and medication have done to her body but I can honestly say she is one of the most beautiful people I know, in every sense of the word. She will carry scars from her surgeries but each one of them represents a trial she has overcome, a heart that she has helped heal, a broken life that she has helped sew back together, and an underdog that accomplished something because she was a champion for them.

I don't know how much direction God had in choosing who was born into what family but I know I have been so blessed to have Lindsay as my sister. After years of sibling rivalry, fighting over clothes, makeup and boys, I can say that I am lucky to count her not just as a sister but as a best friend.



My sister Mary donated her hair to Locks of Love in Lindsay's name