Lessons for My Daughter and Nieces

The lessons I desire for you may or may not be significantly different that those of a younger Mom, however, my wisdom is deeper just by virtue of my years on earth, so I theorize that my lessons are more varied and graver in nature.

1.     Be Mindfully Aware: Don’t just watch the car in front of you be aware of at least the two cars in front of him. Of the car directly in front watch in what direction the tires turn, if the brake lights are on, and the consistency of speed. If you are watching (monitoring) the car in front, and the two cars in front of him you will have a more complete picture of what can occur allowing you some time to prepare if not completely avoid the situation. There are negative situations that can be avoided with the mindful driving through life.

If you are only watching the person in front of you, then your vision is limited, leaving someone else’s actions to create an action that may impact you directly. You want to be aware of how the person in front of you will respond to external influences outside of his direct control, because they can and usually do impact you in some way. If you are close to the person in front of you, next to you, whatever, there are potential possibilities that will impact you and even potential collateral consequences some positive and some negative. As with driving if you maintain the proper distance you have time to alter your actions according to the situation in order to maintain your safety, it is the same with people. Be aware of your surroundings, physically, emotionally, personally and professionally. This is not a warning to avoid people, it is a lesson that regardless of how good of a driver you may be (or how well you are handling your life) there are unintentional consequences originating for those around you that will impact your life.

2.     Wear Sunscreen – always. No exceptions.
I know you hear this all of the time, but this is truly a must for anyone in the sun. I rarely am in the sun, don’t like the overbearing heat, and can’t abide sunbathing, for me it is a waste of time, but, then again I have trouble relaxing. In my twenties I would sunbathe with friends, topless no less to achieve an even tan, but I always wanted to be reading, hard to do when the book is creating a shadow blocking the sun. So it’s probably just my issue. However, the need for sunscreen protection is an issue for everyone.

Not only does sunscreen protect you from the harmful aspects of the Sun, as magnificent as it is, but it also protects you from early aging.
I have been driving for over thirty five years, with my left arm in the sun holding the steering wheel, and if you look closely my left arm is more aged than my right arm, the left side of my face has sun spots which I don’t have on the right side.
In our youth protecting our skin is not a critical factor when planning a day out, however, prepare, one day you will look at your skin and wonder why you didn’t take the extra 3 minutes to apply sunscreen.

3.     Respect Your Youth:
When young it is human nature to take one’s youth for granted, the youthfulness of your face and body, the natural glow that only belongs to the young, the agility of movement without physical restrictions and/or pain and the lightening speed of thought into action.
Youth is fleeting, the young never imagine that their youth will someday evaporate like a drop of water on a sizzling hot road, but it will.
Know that in general women age differently than men. As men grow older they look distinguished, as women grow older they look ‘spent’. Of course some of the effects of aging can be mitigated by diet and exercise, start early, you will never regret it, stay away from processed, unhealthy, chemically loaded foods – if you don’t get used to the sugar, flavorful chemicals, and carbs, then you will never miss them.
Break time, I have to go get a Diet Soda.

Adoption Here We Come - Part 9

It was time for me to take control of the situation; I needed to talk to Birth-Mom right away. The situation was dire, it is Thursday mid-day, if Birth Mom does not agree to have us adopt the baby, the state takes control by Monday at 9:00 am, which means we will have lost the baby permanently, the Caseworker will not allow her to be adopted out of state and he has already promised the baby to someone else. Thankfully, her Grandmother and I had exchanged telephone numbers. In order to meet the 9:00 am deadline, our attorney needs to submit the paperwork on Friday. Mirisa is scrambling, I am panicking, and Husband is on a plane with no knowledge of what is going to face him upon landing.

I call the Grandmother, I present the situation to her calmly but urgently, Birth-Mom needs to make a decision, I will not be left hanging with my heart in my hands walking around wounded, I refuse that scenario. Birth-Mom comes to the phone, she says it is a misunderstanding, she has not stopped the proceedings she just wanted the paperwork stopped because she had never met Husband, and what if he is a pedophile. I very calmly - using what some have called my psycho voice, also known as my client voice, the calm gentle even tone, with no modulation voice – explain to Birth-Mom the background checks and investigations we were submitted to, from Texas Department of Family criminal and sex-offenders for every location we have ever lived, to FBI national background check to a local State/County criminal check, ending with a Texas state Caseworker interview, checking out our home and interviewing our references in some detail – we passed muster, what is the deal? She wants to meet Husband, to make sure they ‘click’, I get it – she has bonded with baby and it is hard to let go, the problem is she is almost two hours away now. I offer to take Husband to where she is staying, we will gladly drive the two hours each way, nope she says not the best option, she will try to come to us, the target date for the meeting is Friday at 3:00 pm, tomorrow. Nope, it is not an option for me, too close to the state deadline if something goes wrong there is no more work time to fix the issue.  Her attorney needs to get things rolling on his side again, another problem, he is on his anniversary trip celebrating 25 years of marriage, he was sure all the paperwork would be submitted that morning and felt it was safe to leave, he was a plane ride away, technically unavailable for a week. Deep breathe.

As I am back and forth on the phone with Grandma Mj and Birth Mom it is concluded that she will gladly take the advice of an Aunt and her Grandmother, if they like Husband she will allow the paperwork to be executed. Husband is going to be evaluated and he doesn’t know it yet. Grandmother and Auntie agree to meet with us in the hospital lobby at 4:00 pm.

I leave to pick up Husband at the airport way too early, I guess I was hoping my spiritual panic would land the plane faster. I ended up parking at a McDonalds to calm down and wait for his plane. I learned that sitting and watching the seconds go by on a clock makes time slow down, I should have been doing this along to slow the aging process. After sitting for 45 min at McDonalds I am ready to explode. Husband arrives, I greet him with a “We have a problem”, I fill him in on the torrid events of the past few hours.

I explain to him without adding any pressure that is no entirely up to him to save this child for us.

Me:                “An Aunt and her Grandmother are coming to meet you, if they like you and approve you we she will sign proceed with the adoption, if they don’t well – significant pause for effect and my panic – we lose the baby.”

Husband:       “But what are they going to do”

Me:                “Make sure you aren’t a pedophile.”

Husband:       “What?”

Me:                “Yep, you heard right.”

Husband:       “But”

Me:                “I know”

Husband:       “So how will they determine that they like me?”

Me:                “I imagine look you up and down, ask you a series of personal questions to delve into the locked recesses of your mind ultimately to evaluate how much useless information you retain in that mind of yours and its inherent value if any.”

Husband:       “What type of questions?”

Me:                “Don’t know, but I want you to clean up, I want you to wash your face, brush your teeth and change into ironed clothes. Would you like to go to the hotel to do that or go straight to the hospital?” See, I am considerate I offer Husband a choice.

Husband:       “Hospital”

Me:                “I don’t want you to look like what you think an architect should look like, I want you cleaned-up.” Husband is good, doesn’t even take offense, he comprehends what I mean, ok, so what I mean is what I actually did say, regardless he doesn’t take offense.  

He is excited to meet the baby for the first time, and is thrilled when he gets to hold her. When my mind wonders back to that moment, I question if his excitement was muted by fear though I don’t think so, his focus is solely on her. I give him a few minutes with the baby before I impress upon the need for him to change and wash-up.   

We decide to go to the lobby early, it is getting closer to liftoff. We wait and we wait, we were 45 min early and they were 30 min late due to traffic, though they do finally arrive. We had scoped out an area that offered a modicum of privacy with seats configured into a sofa-seating with a head-chair. I position Husband at the head of the seating arrangement, the position of power, allowing them room to sit next to each other when they do arrive, I sit with my back to a wall, a wall of glass but nonetheless a wall, which is what I always prefer.  Husband looks nervous, very nervous, I have never seen him nervous over the 25 years I have known him, not once. I want to laugh, its really kind of funny, I feel bad for him, so I work on setting his mind at ease.

Me:                “Are you nervous?”

Husband:       “yeah”

Me:                “hmmmm, why do you think you will screw this up?”

Husband:       “No”

Me:                “Good, cause it is all riding on you now. Though don’t feel pressured.  I am sure that if we lose her I will never mention it again for the rest of my life.” I gently squeeze his hands until his knuckles are white and he has to extract his hand from my grip so as not have any bones broken. We smile at each other and both practice breathing.

Grandmother Mj and Aunt arrive, introductions are made, we sit. Grandmother is nice, gentle, she and I have already met and I know she is all for this adoption believing it to be the best for the baby and the Birth-Mom, she loves the idea of an open adoption with the opportunity to have a relationship with her great-granddaughter. Auntie is a different story, she is all business, she is firm and on a mission, she is representing her niece and wants to make sure that she represents Birth-Mom well.  Aunt has several adopted children herself, owns daycare centers and is smart, she understands the situation well having adopted children under very similar circumstances. Auntie who is probably close to my age, begins to grill Husband, question after question, she is relentless. Husband is gripping the arms of his chair so tight his hands are literally bone white from the tips to the wrist. She asks questions ranging from future child-care plans to why we chose an open adoption, do we plan to allow visitation rights to Birth-Mom, do we have other children, details of our relationship. She never smiled through the interview, she was focused her back ridged taking in all of the information. I am sitting on the side-lines of this game, watching eagerly, wanting to be taken off the bench, boundless energy spiraling through my veins, and I have to sit there until invited to play. Thank the good Lord I have infinite patience as I chewed through my tongue biting it desperately trying not to jump in waiting until the invisible coach put me in. Finally, after an agonizing 20 minutes she turns to me and asks me a question, “Will Birth-Moms visitations be supervised?”, really? Couldn’t I have gotten an easy question like ‘Why an open adoption’? I respond eloquently, using my psycho voice – we don’t know, it depends on the situation at the time, it depends if Birth-Mom is using, it depends on baby’s age, it depends on the location, it depends on baby’s emotional maturity, it depends – there really is no answer. She is satisfied, she relaxes a bit, a very little bit and goes on to tell us why it is important to only have supervised visitations when dealing with a drug user.

At last I am able to relax she really comprehends. Finally, the interview is completed, they want to go upstairs to see baby. The four of us head to the NICU. While they are loving on baby, we are told they approve and will be sharing their opinion with Birth-Mom.

In the interim of that afternoon Birth-Moms attorney called her from his vacation and basically laid down the law of the consequences if she did not proceed with the adoption, he revisited her future rights within the constraints of the open-adoption contract and the benefits were incomparably better than if the baby was lost to the state system. Mirisa and Birth-Moms attorney had been in contact, his partner would be handling the paper-work however, the partner is also a University Professor and has a limited window to submit the paperwork when she gives the green-light because it is finals, his law students are in finals. I’m thinking to myself when Mirisa gives me this bit of news, well it shouldn’t be a problem, they are future attorneys, once given the students are given the test he can leave, attorney’s never cheat, no issue there.

I am stressed, for the first time ever I didn’t even want Husband in the same bed with me, I sent him to the other bed in the hotel room under the pretense that I would keep him awake because I would be thrashing around too much from nervousness, anxiety and a general feeling of panic. Sometimes Husband is angelic, not often, but, certainly when it counts. After leaving me alone for a little bit, he finally came on over saying, ‘might as well be together since neither of us will get any sleep.’ It is now Friday morning, we didn’t sleep all night, it is 6:30 am, is it too early to call Birth-Mom? In my infinite consideration for others I wait until the decent hour of 6:48 am. Grandmother Mj is awake, she tells me Birth-Mom has agreed to the adoption, though I need to hear it from her, she has to call her attorney’s partner, the gears have to be put in motion. Birth-Mom won’t wake up, I am told she will call me later. So I call back every 30 minutes until she comes to the phone, Grandmother Mj was really patient with me, she fully comprehends the risks involved. I don’t want to go to the hospital until we have an answer, I don’t want the baby feeling our stress, she is busy weaning off the morphine that is being administered for the withdrawals. On that day our visit to the baby will be either ‘welcome home’ or ‘have a blessed life, goodbye’, I want to know before we see her again.

At last Birth-Mom is awake and willing to talk to me. She is contrite, she didn’t mean to put a stop to the adoption, she just wanted to know Husband was going to be a good father. The only thing she needs now is a copy of the open-adoption paperwork, she says she had never received it. What? Impossible. I call my attorney, who calls her attorney, come to find out she has received the paperwork three times. We have to get it to her again some way, ethically it is the right thing to do. Mirisa emails it to me, so it is not coming form my attorney, we mean no intent of coercion so it is better that the copy comes from me, at the last minute Mirisa did locate her attorney who has the contract  sent to her once again. It is now 11:00 am, the clock is ticking, her attorney needs to file the paperwork before noon or it won’t get done – its Finals week at the law school. I get Birth-Mom on the phone again, she says she will call her attorney and give him the go ahead. She will call but, how will I know that she did call, she will call me and tell me,  hah but where will my proof be? Not good enough, I need verification, absolute verification, so I tell her I will call her attorney and conference him in, I want to hear it for myself. So I do. I introduce myself to him and state the purpose of the call, due diligence out of the way, and hand it over to Birth-Mom. It’s done, he has her approval, he asks her twice just to make sure, his due diligence is complete. I thank her and tell her I will be in touch when paperwork is submitted. I call Mirisa, she calls him, we are on track. We go to the hospital to await confirmation that the paperwork has been submitted.

Three hours later at 1:00 pm we get our confirmation, Law School Professor Attorney came up to bat, he did step out of the finals to get to courthouse. We are done… she is ours… we have our daughter…. Except there is one more hitch to attach to this wagon, one more item that has to be done or we can’t leave the state with her in tow… we have custody but……

To be continued  

© Yvonne B. Pérez and The Life and Confessions of an Older Mother, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Yvonne B. Pérez and The Life and Confessions of an Older Mother with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Adoption Here We Come - Part 8

Birth-Moms ob/gyn contacts us on Saturday, all is good, we still have a few days maybe even two weeks to finish preparing. I feel very comfortable, two weeks will allow more time for planning and implementation, I can wash baby clothes, pack them, clean the house, prepare for the baby in a systematic fashion. I’m feeling good. Two days later, T-w-o D-a-y-s later on Monday, around 7:30 pm, Mirisa calls, our baby girl has been born and she is perfectly healthy. I’m speechless, two days, two days not two weeks, excuse me God, I’m not completely organized yet! I am on a plane Tuesday morning by 6:00 am, Husband is to follow on Thursday.

I arrive in Seattle at 1:00 pm and head straight for Swedish First Hills hospital (a magnificent facility and incredible clinical staff), to meet my daughter for the first time and Birth-Mom for the first time. It’s a little daunting, how am I supposed to act with Birth-Mom, do we hug? For petes’ sake, should I bow, she’s giving us her daughter?  What am I supposed to say to this young woman as she hands me her daughter? What is appropriate? This is not a stranger handing me my baby, but the woman that birthed her, the woman who will be her biological mother for life, someone that loves my daughter enough to place her for adoption in order to have a better life. As I walk in the room she recognizes me immediately from photos, she gets up from the bed, we hug, the ice is broken, we are connected. Now, I know that we will always be connected. I am introduced to her Grandmother who is visiting, supporting her, and seeking living options for her when she is released from the hospital. The room is filled with all of her belongings she was able to escape with, clothes, various nick-knacks and a notebook in which she has documented her emotional status while in rehab, she shows me her diploma for completing rehab, a prayer that my Mother sent her that she now cherishes. She is proud of herself, and believes she will move forward with the right decisions. She wants to make the right decisions; she wants a better life for herself. People in her life have convinced her that she is ‘stupid’ and that she has a comprehension problem, that is far from the truth, she is bright, all she needs to do is believe in herself to take that first step to the right path. She is not only smart but also beautiful, she has a lovely personality, there is a kindness in her that must get trampled on with the life she has led, I pray she doesn’t become cynical.

The baby is in the cradle; I don’t know if I should just reach in to touch her, what is the appropriate protocol, Emily Post didn’t offer me the do’s and don’ts for this situation. Birth Mom and I look at each other, we both smile, I lift the baby out of the cradle. As I look down at this fragile being in my arms, I know in my heart a daughter is good, it is right, this is my child, she is beautiful and perfect. Her little body is semi-rounded out as she sleeps like a peanut, in my mind she is my ‘Peanut’, that is my love name for her to this day. My daughter, our daughter has arrived. I’m excited, but, I know that there are a few more days before we have full custody according to the law, I tread lightly, not wanting to say the wrong thing to Birth Mom. I thank her for this wonderful gift, I share with her how all of us will love the baby, that she has an extended family ready to open their hearts to her, that Husband and I are dedicated to this baby and already love her. I am allowed private time with my daughter, we have about an hour together before she is taken back to the room for monitoring and feeding.

Birth-Mom tells me she is breast-feeding the baby to give her at least some breast milk, and she will pump later and get the milk to us. Breast Feeding? Oh my, that is the building of a bond. Is this a good idea? I keep those thoughts to myself; I can’t change what has already been done.

Before I leave Birth-Mom looks at me with sincere big blue eyes and asks,  "Is it ok if she calls me “Auntie” when she is older?" My heart hurts for this woman, it must have been so hard for her to ask that question. I fully comprehend she wants to retain a familial connection with her child it is logical. Before I could respond, a nurse interrupts changing the subject. I have thought about this question long and hard for months after we had Beny at home. I have decided that when Beny is young, too little to truly understand, she will have a special name for Birth-Mom such as “Emmy or Meme” (Birth-Mom’s name starts with an “E”). And, when Beny is older I am ok if she calls her Mom or Momma. I’m sure that the first time I hear Beny call her Mom my heart will take a little dip in my chest, but that’s ok, she is Beny’s mother, just a different Mother than I am. I firmly believe one can't be selfish with love. It is better for Beny to love more than less. In today's world of his, hers, ours, multiple stepparents, two mommy's, two daddy's, its good to be open-minded. 

One of the greatest gifts I have ever received is from my sister Dina ... her eldest daughter - Devin - would sometimes play that she was Baby Cami and I was her Mommy, so she would go around all day calling me Mommy, this went on for a few years. Devin and I enjoyed playing Baby Cami sometimes we carried our little acting role out into our day's out together. Dina never minded, she never was jealous, she actually told me if Devin wants to call you 'mommy' I'm good with that. On another occasion when someone from our past asked her if I was married and had children (of course for the longest time, people who had children thought there was something wrong with me because I didn't), Dina's response was, "Yes, she has two daughters, Devin and Chaney" - Chaney is her second daughter. My sister was sharing her daughters with me privately and publicly, that is a great gift, I have always felt a deep sense of honor for this gift, a gift I can now return to the Birth Mother, to my sisters, and my mother.

As I am preparing to leave the hospital Birth-Mom hands me some of the hospital paperwork, she has named the baby, a name she has selected, it is listed on the paperwork. I have another uneasy moment, first breast-feeding, now naming the baby. Those are serious emotional connections. I leave the hospital, exhausted, happy, and anxious. 

Arriving the next day Birth-Mom is getting ready for discharge, she says goodbye to both baby and me, she feels she must physically distance herself from the baby.  We are moved to another room, thankfully all the rooms are private rooms in the PICU (pediatric intensive care unit). Baby is born addicted to drugs, meth and some anti-depressant. Otherwise the baby is perfectly healthy, we were well aware there was a significant chance that she would be born addicted, particularly after our experience with the first baby and his five month hospitalization. We were emotionally prepared.

Birth-Mom comes to our room to say goodbye once again, she has made the baby a quilt, she has made one for all of her children. She asks that I keep the quilt for the baby. It is a loving gesture, I will take care of the quilt until she is old enough to appreciate it. Birth Mom asks for visitations rights while baby is still in the hospital, I am the one that can authorize or deny visitations, she also requests visitation rights to other family members. Part of me would like to deny the request, I want time to bond with this baby, I don’t want visitors. However, I do what I think is the right thing, and I allow visitation. 

Baby is now about 38 hours old, I am alone with my daughter, I am at the hospital until 10:00 pm. The next morning I arrive to the hospital at 8:00 am, Husband lands around noon. She had a good night, eating is a little slow which is common in NAS (neo-natal addiction syndrome) babies, lots of gas, NAS symptoms are measured every two hours, baby's vitals are monitored 24/7. The nursing staff has educated me on the NAS symptoms, I watch closely for those symptoms - tracking them, reporting them to the nursing staff. I urge baby to eat every two hours a minimum of two ounces of formula, when she manages to drink a full two ounces I feel a sense of success, its a win! She is a very slow eater, not necessarily uncommon particularly with NAS babies, it takes about 45 min to feed her and 10 to burp her. I am a person accustomed to fast tracking everything, it takes considerable patience to slow down and feed her according to her schedule not mine. This is my first lesson in ‘Mommy-ing’.  

Shortly after arriving to the hospital Mirisa called, we have a serious problem. Birth-Mom has contacted her caseworker at the hospital and is reconsidering placing the baby for adoption - the adoption is on HOLD. Now, I understand the hesitant looks the nursing staff give me, the looks of sympathy from one nurse in particular when I walked in is now understandable. They had already been informed by the caseworker that I could visit with the baby, but no final decisions had been made, consequently, at that point in time I was not to be considered the ‘babies mother’. That is not specifically said to me, but that is what it comes down to. The clinical staff did not discuss the situation openly with me, they can't for privacy reasons. Husband would be boarding a plane to Seattle shortly, I opted not to tell him, I didn't want him upset and worried while alone on the plane,  there was no reason for him to suffer the long plane ride over, I would tell him when he arrived, that was soon enough. Though I did call Mom, and the few others that were aware of our adoption to begin a prayer circle, I was on panic mode. My stomach was in knots, my heart literally was clenched. I was not going to lose another baby, I was going to fight for this child, she was ours, she was mine.

To be continued……

© Yvonne B. Pérez and The Life and Confessions of an Older Mother, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Yvonne B. Pérez and The Life and Confessions of an Older Mother with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.