The Picky Eater

Now that I've finished telling my story, I can fast forward 2 years to today. I now have a healthy, active almost two year old (next month!) on my hands. He is on the go from the time he wakes up til the time he crashes at night. Nap time is sacred in our house; it's something we do religiously everyday and no one messes with it. NO. ONE. 

But now we're going through a different stage: the Picky Eater. E has decided that food is overrated and only wants to eat certain foods: cheese, yogurt, goldfish crackers, and fruit snacks. He also only wants to drink milk, not juice or water. This has made meal times very difficult, as E is already small for his age and I am always pushing food at him to get him to gain weight. I am turning to Pinterest, Facebook, and Weelicious.com to make anything that'll get him to eat. I'm hoping that I won't have to make a goldfish omelet or something but if that's what it takes, then I'll do it. I'll also be gagging while I make it, but I'll do it.

If anyone else has a picky eater on their hands, I'd be open to any advice. This Llama Mama is getting desperate!

Father's Day

So today is Father's Day. We celebrate Mother's Day with a lot of glitz and glamour but Father's Day is a much quieter holiday. Facebook blew up with all of my friends wishing their husbands and fathers a Happy Father's Day. Every time I read one, my heart twinges a little. Even though I went into adoption as a single mother, I do secretly worry about if I did the right thing. I see the happy photos of the family unit: mom, dad, and kids. I tell myself that all families are different, and that I don't need a husband to raise my son. Then someone posted on another Facebook site the statistics of children who are raised without a dad. It wasn't pretty. I keep telling myself that those numbers won't apply to E, that our circumstances are different. And then I remember the stories of my friends, who have dead beat fathers or ugly splits between them and their significant others. I carefully planned E's adoption and I watch him bloom daily into this beautiful, active toddler who is secure in his family's love. Fathers are wonderful and one day, I would love to get married, but for now he will have his uncles to be the dad in his life.

For 30 years I had a wonderful father. He was a sports guy and a PE teacher at my local high school. For such a guy's guy, he had such a soft spot for his daughters. My sister and I were also adopted as infants through international adoption. My dad and mom requested daughters through their agency and when I arrived, my grandmother told me he brought me over to her and said "Isn't she beautiful?".

Dad died exactly 3 weeks after E was born. It also happened to be my birthday. It was sudden and unexpected. It's been two years and my heart still aches with missing him. I've finally gotten to the place where I don't cry every time I think about him. He did meet E and held him twice. I also have one picture of the three of us together, so I can show E and tell him how much he would have loved his Poppy. I remember holding E and sitting to talk to my dad. I asked him if he thought I'd be a good mother and he said, "Yes, because you love him." 

My dad was my best friend. I could tell him anything and we talked several times a day. Now I pick up the phone to call before I remember that he's not there to answer and there are no phone lines to heaven. My mom is wonderful, but it's different. That father/daughter connection isn't there anymore. 

So I look at E and know that I am mom and dad to this amazing child. I will raise him with the values instilled by my parents and know that my dad is always with me, if only in spirit. Happy Father's Day in heaven, daddy. I miss you.

The First 9 Days

Here are some things I learned the first 9 days:

• E didn't sleep without my holding him. The first few days I held him and slept flat on my back (hey, desperate times call for desperate measures). After that, I bought a travel bed and kept an arm in there so he felt my presence while he slept. Thankfully, this didn't last long.
• He slept all day and was up all night. You learn that the advice to sleep when your baby sleeps is 100% correct.
• Wearable baby carriers are amazing. It was the only way I could eat during that trip, as E wanted to be held at all times.
• We quickly fell into a routine: we would get up for the free breakfast, then E would take his first daytime nap so I could shower. We would then go out for the day on a trip, then come back for another nap. Unfortunately, he slept so much that we would be up every hour or two at night, meaning that I was very sleep deprived the next day, when our cycle would start all over again.
• You will quickly learn how to give a sponge bath, change dirty diapers, and eat one handed.
• Bonding with this little human being is a little conflicting because there's always that slim chance that the adoption will not go through. I remember thinking that he was so cute, but I felt like someone was going to come for him at any moment, almost like I was babysitting and his parents were going to walk through the door.
• Your heart will hurt for his first mom, because your hearts and arms are filled with your new baby, but hers are not because of her selfless choice.
• Traveling by myself was the best thing for me as a new mom. It proved that I could take care of my son without help, and if we could make this trip together, we could make it through anything as a team.

A Family of Two

The agency worker's husband met me at the door of the hospital. He led me down the hallway, where we were met by all of the maternity nurses. They congratulated me, handed me a poster that they all signed with good wishes for my son and me, and took my camera so that I didn't have to worry about taking pictures. Then they pushed me into the hospital room and there he was, being held by P. 

He was burritoed up in a blanket, the smallest baby I had ever seen. He was perfect. They placed him in my arms and I began to cry with happiness. All of the emotions I had been feeling about adopting my son came together in that moment. I unwrapped him and counted his little toes and fingers. He had, and still has, the longest little fingers and feet. He had the softest skin and looked a lot like Mr. Magoo (but my sister said he looked like Gollum) with his little wrinkled face. He was without a doubt the cutest baby I had ever seen.

The camera was snapping, recording our first moments as a family. The doctor who delivered my son, who I will call "E" on this blog, came in and answered my questions. I was staying overnight with my baby at the hospital and signing the initial paperwork the next morning. I still had to book my hotel for my stay in the agency's city and unpack a few things to get me through the night.

Apparently, the statewide high school FFA was in town and there were almost no hotel rooms available. I think I found the last one and booked it just in time, all at the hospital. Also, E had to be held at all times. He would not settle down unless he felt your arms around him. The second he felt your arms pull away, he would cry. Loudly. Sleeping would prove to be a challenge. Thank goodness for the night nurse, who took him for a few hours so I could sleep. It would be the last night of uninterrupted sleep for a very long time.

The nurses and staff were so kind to us. One nurse gave me her son's preemies clothes, another gave me a bottle of Dreft. The best gift was the hospital social worker, who gave me E's sonogram pictures. 

The paperwork went through smoothly and we were off for E's first car ride. P offered to drive, as E was still fretful and I was exhausted. Our road to our little family of two was lying ahead of us.

The Last Leg

After gathering my backpack, suitcase, car seat, and stroller (and figuring out a way to haul it all), I made my way to the rental car desk. The girl was so helpful, even upgrading me to a larger car when she found out I was in Texas to adopt my son. I was off for my 3 hour ride!

It was over 100 degrees each day of my stay and today was no exception. I drove for hours with no houses in sight and the only cell reception was through tiny little run down towns that looked like sets from zombie movies. I saw tumbleweed for the first time in my life and prayed that the heat didn't break down my car. And then suddenly, I was there.

I pulled into the McDonalds for a bathroom break, but also for a last ditch attempt to wrap my mind around what was going to happen next. P, the agency representative, called me to see where I was and to find out when I was going to get to the hospital. It turned out I was 5 minutes away. I got into my car and headed to meet my son.

Traveling Solo: The Flight

The next morning arrived too soon. My mom drove me to the airport. I sat in the passenger seat with my heart in my throat. This was it. It was really happening. I was going to meet my son and we were going to begin our life as a family.

This was the first time I had ever traveled by myself. Anywhere. There was no direct flight to my son, so I would be laying over at DFW before landing at my agency's city. I would then drive about 3 hours from the airport to the hospital. I checked into my flight while waiting for my mom to park the car and learned a few valuable travel lessons:

1. When flying through American Airlines, you are charged for your bags. The first bag is $50, the second is $75, and the third is $150. As I didn't have my baby yet, the car seat and stroller I brought with me counted as checked luggage, which had to be paid for. The lovely, helpful (yes, this is my sarcastic voice) airline employee thoughtfully inquired if I really wanted the last 2 bags. I explained that I was on my way to adopt my son and that I needed them. "Humph" was her reply as she put my credit card through. 
2. When it asks if you would like to be upgraded to first class for an extra $150, say yes. Then I would have received breakfast (not that I was hungry) and the extra bags would've been free.

My mom and I stood together just outside the security gate when my phone rang. It was P, the agency worker. She wanted to let me know that my son was born just after midnight that morning. He was 5 pounds, 10 ounces and was doing well. I calmly answered the medical questions about what I wanted for him (yes to the vitamin K shot, the drops, and circumcision) with no hint of apprehension in my voice (I hope). I relayed the information to my mom and asked her if I was doing the right thing. "Yes," she replied. "He's waiting for you." I think if she had said no, I would have headed back to the car; I was that scared.

I hugged and kissed her goodbye, went through the security check, and waited for my flight to get called. I texted my friend Heather (the one with the amazing little girl who started my mommy longing) to tell her I was waiting for my flight. She asked if she could spread the word to my incredibly supportive co-workers who've been with me since the beginning of this adoption journey. Sure, why not. 

The flight itself was smooth. As a solo flyer, I had a seat in the front of the plane (yes!). I read my book on baby care and watched a few episodes of The Vampire Diaries on my iPod. Damon and Stefan helped pass the time for sure! It was a 5 hour flight with a 2 hour layover and another hour flight before reaching my agency's city. I had time to kill. As my plane landed and I turned on my phone, the text messages started to arrive from everyone. They were so happy for me and were sending prayers my way. That helped a lot. All too soon, my second flight landed and I was in my agency's city. It was time for the second part of my travels: the car ride.

THE CALL

It happened on a Saturday evening. I was supposed to have dinner with my neighbor and her family until my phone rang with its special ring tone for the agency ("You Can't Hurry Love"). This was it! My son's birthmom was in labor and I needed to get to Texas!

I was partially packed, so I threw the rest of my stuff in my suitcase while calling the airlines to make a last minute reservation. Helpful hint: Telling the airline representative you are adopting makes them even more helpful (I was told I made her day) and she helped me find a flight with a discounted fee if I had to change my return date. I gave my neighbors my refrigerator food and my mail key, put the suitcase, car seat, stroller, two dogs, and two cats in the car, and began the 3 hour drive to my parents house.

I was a wreck on the inside. My stomach literally hurt from nervousness. What if I couldn't do it? What if I was a terrible mom? My good friends called me on my ride to wish me luck and encouragement on my trip. They all assured me that I could do it and that it would be okay. It didn't work. I was still a mess, but was doing a great job of hiding it.

When I got to my parents, it was almost midnight and I was booked on a 9am flight (which meant getting to the airport, which was an hour away, at least 2 hours before the flight to check in and go through security). Oh, and I had forgot to rent a car, so I had to do that before going to bed as well. The agency representative was calling me as well to give me updates on my son, who still wasn't born when I made it to bed that night/morning. I think I had maybe 5 hours of sleep that night.

Did I mention that I had also never traveled by myself? Anywhere. Ever. This was going to be interesting.