I personally don’t care for Halloween.

The whole idea of dressing up in a costume does nothing for me.

But now that I am a mother it has become a big deal in our house….because The Boy truly loves it!

Therefore I love it.

But there were years that I couldn’t bear it.

The year after we were married, Kipp and I bought a cute little house in a quaint suburban neighborhood.

It was the perfect”Trick or Treating” neighborhood.

And for the first few years I was an avid participant in handing out candy.

But during my infertile years, this task grew too much to bear.

Every time the doorbell rang and I opened the door to groups of adorable kids saying “Trick of Treat” I felt my heart rip out of my chest.

So that was the end of that.

We’d leave a big bowl full of candy on the porch and every year we’d go out to dinner.

Maybe I should have been stronger.

Maybe I just should have powered through.

But I didn’t want to be so sad.

So to all my infertile friends out there……hang in there.

I know today is hard.

But someday your prayers will be answered and you will learn to love Halloween all over again.

Love much,

xob

Mr. Jake had arrived!!!! 

Everyone at the hospital couldn’t have been nicer and since there were very few babies in the nursery they gave us a room and let us stay.

I rolled our HUGE suitcase into the hospital—which completely embarrassed Kipp— and basically made myself at home.  Our room came complete with a TV and private bathroom and to be perfectly honest was about twice as big as our room at home.

The nurses kept offering to keep Jake in the nursery so we could get some rest but I couldn’t part with him—not even for a second. 

I made sure “the girls” were part of his life from the beginning and you’ll notice the picture tucked in the top right hand corner of his bassinet.

We even mailed two baby blankets home so our dogsitter could let the girls have them—I’d heard it was a good idea to let them become familiar with his smell. 

Life was pretty perfect except for the fact that the birthmother still had 24 hours to change her mind.

I tried not to think about it—how could I?

Love much,

xob

Four years ago today the phone rang at 8:30 am.

“It’s me.” The voice said.

And because of caller ID I already knew who it was.

“I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“We’re on our way.” I replied. 

“I’ll call you back as soon as I have our flights.”

“He’s almost here.” She said.

“I know.  We can’t wait to see you.”

And with that we were off and running.  The picture above was taken by our friends in the neighborhood who all saw us off as we were driven to the airport that morning  by our dear friend R.

Life would never quite be the same.

We arrived in Maine @ Noon if my memory is correct.

And I drove like a lunatic to the hospital—it’s a miracle I didn’t get a speeding ticket. 

When we arrived Jake’s birthmother invited me into the delivery room with her.

I kissed Kipp good bye and was on my way to become a mother for the first time.

We were in the delivery room for hours and finally at 7:38 pm our beautiful boy arrived.

Four years ago today he was born and placed in my arms.

Four yeas ago today I became a mother.

Happy Birthday Jake.

What a difference you have made in my world.

To one very special woman—-what a difference you have made in my world.

And just in case you’re reading, he still has blonde hair and blue eyes.

Love much,

xob

Four years ago  today was a Friday and little did I know that the next day my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t even imagine.

It had been 41 months since we started trying to have a child.

A year and 1/2 of trying on our own, years of infertility treatments and now 10 months of the adoption process.

41 months?

And well over $100,000.

All to become a parent.

Not a day goes by that I don’t count my blessings—on many levels.

Our bags were packed but little did I know that The Boy was really on his way.

Love much,

xob

Four years ago (give or take) I stood in the “room” in my house that had been empty for far too long.

First it had been a guest room.

Then it had been my office.

And then for years it had been empty because it was the “baby’s room” —and there was no baby.

It was the room which I kept closed because I just couldn’t bear to look at it.

But now there was a crib.

And soon there would be a baby.

It had been a long road to this point….

But it looked as though the end was in sight…

I held my breath.

Love much,

xob

I recently bought a new bra—at the train station…..yes, the train station.

Nothing fancy.

I just liked the way the straps were cut if you must know.

But when I got it home, I realized  this was no ordinary bra.

It even came with its own instruction manual.

REALLY????

OK so here goes…..this is what it says:

“Made for you.  If you’re a member of the ‘A (or B) team’ and tired of bras that don’t fit your petite body type, ‘the little bra’ was made for you.”

Clearly had I known it was called ‘the little bra’ it would not have been purchased–but I kept reading.

OK on to the flip side of the card.

“How to wear the little bra”

“STEP ONE: Put the little bra on. Lean over to allow your breasts to fall naturally into the bra cups.” (Hope I don’t hurt myself).

“STEP TWO: While leaning over, take your left hand to hold the little bra in place, where the back wings meet the wire.  Now, use your right hand to scoop your “little goods” (their words not mine) to the center of the little bra.  Repeat with the right cup.” (Note to self: was not good at Twister—this doesn’t sound promising).

“STEP THREE: Adjust shoulder straps-tight enough so they don’t fall off your shoulders, but not so tight that they cut into your shoulders.” (Uh….duh.)

“STEP FOUR: You’ve got cleavage! Wear your favorite fashions with the little bra, or just wear the little bra!” (OK Sue Anne Mishke).

I know I am totally making fun of “the little bra” but maybe since I am a member of the aforementioned “team”, I should be paying more attention to the instructions.  And to be perfectly honest with you, now that I have worn it—I am going to buy it in every color ever made.

Love much,

xob

Four years ago today (give or take) I called the baby store to order the following:

Mini Pak-N-Play

Car Seat

Stroller

I made arrangements for them to ship everything to Maine once The Boy was born.

“It’s going to cost an arm and a leg in shipping.” The owner of the store told me.

“It’s ok.” I assured him.

I just didn’t have the heart to travel with all that baby equipment and no baby.

Love much,

xob

Four years ago today (give or take) I started packing my suitcase.

There was a very pregnant woman in Maine and she was 2 cm dilated.

The Boy was on his way.

Love much,

xob

It occurred to me as I looked at a calendar today that I have entered my 29th month for this adoption.

In my mind, I am 29 months pregnant.

I don’t even really know what that means anymore.

People don’t even ask me how this adoption is going anymore and quite frankly I can’t blame them—we all know the answer.

This process has been challenging (to say the least) and if I didn’t want to be a mother again so badly I probably would have given up.

29 months.

Either that or run out of money……

29 months.

But I’ll do what I have to…..

29 months.

I haven’t given up hope.

Love much,

xob

So it’s official.

I am one of those mothers.

My intentions were good but I didn’t write it down.

And I forgot.

I signed up for ‘healthy snack’ and was supposed to bring it for The Boy’s class yesterday.

It’s sitting in the cabinet ready to go and I just forgot.

So why did I sign up anyway you ask?

I signed up because I felt I had to prove I could do it all.

I am not a class mom.

I don’t volunteer for library.

I am not on the PTA.

So the least I could do is deal with “healthy snack” right?????

I can prove to the world that I can work, run Helpusadopt.org,and be super mom…..

Maybe not….

The unfortunate part in all this is that the ball I dropped in my mind is the most important.

Funny thing is, The Boy’s teachers are so fabulous that they are always prepared for people like me—so the class did not go without.

But I am mortified….and will have to apologize.

I’m only human and as my grandmom Jeanne would say……

“Dear, it’s not easy being a working wife and mother…but do the best you can…and do it with style.”

Although I am pretty sure that if she was around my grandmother would NOT approve of the pleather legging.

Happy Friday.

Love much,

xob