Happy Birthday

To the lady whose body

housed my husband

who raised him

loved him

entrusted him

to me

Happy Birthday to the grandma

who prays for our sons

who drops everything and comes

to love grand babies

clean out my refrigerator

do art camp with the boys

We love you!

We rise up and call you blessed...

So thankful for your life today

for how well you love us

serve us

teach us

put up with us

Come on...you can tell us

Wow.

If I had a dollar for how many times I've heard this phrase in a house filled with boys....

"I thought it was just a toot mom....but it was poop."

I'd be rich enough to throw their pooped in underwear in the trash and buy new ones.

We would be able to afford disposable underwear.

No matter what, someone pooing in their pants is funny.

I try to be annoyed with the boys when they underestimate their toots, but come on...once you have passed up the time when it's acceptable to poop in your pants, and then you do it...it's funny.

Admit it.

What's even funnier is that when you do poop your pants, what you do AFTER or BEFORE it happens is the funniest part.

In such a state of panic and terror, people do hilarious things to try to stop it or hide it.

I'm laughing thinking of the poop in your pants stories I know of from friends.

So, I was thinking...

I think it's about time that we all came together and shared our poop in our pants stories.

You can post anonymously.

I don't mind.

But let's share.

This is something we've all done.

Well...actually, Aaron and D.O. are sitting here, and I just said...

"Have you ever pooped in your pants?"

They said they haven't.

Then they thought about it and changed their tune a little.

Well...maybe they have, but just a little bit.

Then D.O. said, "Why are you asking me? Did you just poop your pants?"

No...I didn't.

But they thought that maybe, since I was getting internet for the first time in a million years, that I had pooped my pants, but was so engrossed in my blog writing that I was going to sit in it.

That's not the case.

I didn't poop my pants writing this post.

I don't even kind of need to go.

But I want to hear your poop stories...anonymously, if you need to...that's understandable.

I'll tell mine in the comment section.

My boys need to hear it. They need to know they are not the only nastys.

Pooping in your pants is not just for little boys.

We Moved, We're Building, Let's Square Dance

What's next in Hendrick World?

Building a house.

We've always wanted to build, but never wanted to move twice.

Who wants to do that?

Instead, we've moved 900 times in the last two years.

Right now, we're renting the Winslows sweet house.

Our next project is building.

When people ask me what we're doing next, I say with an excited face...

"We're going to build a house!"

I wait for yee-haw, giddy hand clapping to erupt from the person I'm talking to.

Instead, what I've gotten is...

"Well...we built a house, and if I had it to do over again, I would make these (fill in the blank) changes."

Apparently, when it comes to home building, you should get a practice round.

So...

That's where you come in.

Have you built a house?

Is there something you would change?

Do you say things like, "If we build again, I will NEVER and I mean NEVER do ___________."

Or

"If we build again I would FOR SURE _____________."

Or

We built a house, and I was SO STINKIN' smart, I did _____________ and I love my smart self for doing that!

Come on with your bad, building self.

This is no time for humility. Bring on the regret.

Let me learn from your brilliance or your suffering.

Please say it's not just me

Maybe it's just me.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep.

But hopefully

all mothers experience this...

When you hit four, does everyone panic for the first few months, thinking you've forgotten a child?

That keeps happening to me.

We load up in the car.

We drive for about five minutes...

and then

I'm frantically checking the rear view mirror counting heads.

Really...

My heart will be pounding as I'm counting.

Will this go away soon or does having four turn you into a forever lunatic who can't remember how many kids she put in the car?

Once I looked in the rear view mirror and didn't see Hudson's car seat handle sticking up behind my seat.

I screamed!

I was yelling..."Anson...is Hudson in the car?"

My calm, just like his daddy child slowly says...

"Yyyyes...

mom...

are you okay?"

deep breath

huge sigh of relief

"I'm sorry, Anson...there's just so many of y'all."

Please tell me this crazy fear of forgetting a child goes away!

Do you know what we're doing right now?

Packing and moving

Do you know how we feel?

Tired

Exhausted

My legs feel like they might fall off

And yet...

Do you know what we do every single night?

Stay up until the next morning watching the Olympics.

Do you know what we say every morning when we wake up?

"We can NOT stay up and watch the Olympics tonight."

And then we still do.

It's a sick, sad pattern that we can't seem to shake.

Shawn Johnson is about to win the gold on the beam.

Gotta go.

I'll see you in the morning...

I'll be the one with the blood shot eyes.

Did I mention I also have a newborn baby here who is nocturnal?

We keep saying, "Hudson...you're a person...not a possum."

No one plan to have a newborn summer of 2012. Look at me, or try to have a conversation with me...you'll know why you should plan your child birthing around the summer months four years from now.

Oh...and...

Ask Aaron what he does when a woman athlete wins, the National Anthem is playing, and that female athlete is crying...

Ask him.

It's precious.

Summer Lovin

If summer was a person, I'd be hanging onto her clothes right now, pulling on the back of her t-shirt so hard, I stretch it all out and ruin it...I'd be crying, screaming, wailing...

"Please don't go. Please don't go!"

I love summer.

love it

I love vacation.

I love sleeping late.

I love my short to do list.

I love having Aaron to ourselves for so many evenings during the week.

I love the heat.

But only because I love the swimming pool.

When my kids grow up and think of summer, I know the first thing that will pop into their heads is the swimming pool.

We have lived there every summer since Anson was born.

My most precious summer memories have been at the pool.

Remembering when my kids have pooped in it.

No one likes it when their kid poops in the pool.

The whole place gets shut down and everyone there hates your family.

If our kids got caught pooping in the pool, I would never go back...I think I would ask Aaron if we could move out of the state. Seriously...people hate you that much.

I can see it now...Aaron sitting in an interview at a different job...

"So what makes you want to change jobs, Aaron?"

"My kid pooped in the public pool this summer...we had to leave town."

Our kids have CERTAINLY pooped in the pool before, but I'm sneaky...I always grab those little poop specks with my bare hands and get them out of the pool quick before anyone notices.

As a matter of fact, there's a big group of us that communicate our pool plans through email every day in the summer.

We love each other so much we not only swim together but we've been known to not only touch our own kid's floating pool poop...but to reach down, upon seeing poop specks floating out of a friend's kid's diaper and scoop that baby and that baby's poo out of the pool before anyone sees...using our bare hands.

That's the mom's version of Man vs. Wild. It's called Moms vs. the Lifeguard Whistle.

That's love for one another right there...

Pure love.

Like I said...every day, an email goes out that says something like this...

"We're swimming at Thomas Park pool today from noon-two, who's in?"

And then a large group of us descend on the pool, horribly outnumbered by our children...really, the child to mom ratio of our group is insane...

We eat lunch together, swim together, laugh together, encourage one another, say things like, "What's wrong with you today, you seem grumpy."

I love summer!

The Lingo...

Let me just get straight to the point...

The topic of adoption can be awkward.

I think adoptive parents would agree...we sometimes dread comments..the things people say that are insensitive, and the down right stupidity of people around us. Sorry...just being honest. Being new to this adoption stuff, I find myself desiring the comfort of our closest friends. I can rest. I don't have to be on my guard. I don't have to constantly be listening to what people are saying. I know I can't live inside my safe bubble of friendships exclusively, but...I'm just saying...I have found it much easier lately to be around people I know...whose hearts I know...instead of being around people who will more than likely say something awful, or ask a really, hard question I don't know how to answer. I'm trying to learn how to respond in situations that are surely coming.

I think we can also agree that as people who haven't adopted, but have friends who have (I used to be in this category) there is also this weird feeling of fear and timidity about what should be said and what shouldn't be said.

Oh how I wish there were a book called, Adoption for Dummies...How not to be a rude moron when talking about adoption.

Of course, the reason behind all of this is sometimes a wicked heart. People are mean, and especially when dealing with trans-racial adoption can be sinful and prejudice. We live in a broken, sinful world, and people saying mean things about adoption, adopted children, and transracial families will always be the case.

HOWEVER...

The majority of people are not trying to be mean or insensitive. Their "off" comments, from what I have noticed are based on nothing else besides not being educated on adoption terms, lingo and what is and isn't appropriate to say. They haven't thought through their words...haven't thought through what their words actually mean to the adoptive parents or to the adopted child.

I don't want people around me feeling weird and awkward.

I don't want people feeling like they can't say things.

I don't want people thinking that we are always going to wear our feelings on our sleeve, waiting to pounce on you with vocabulary corrections. I'm not going to walk around with a red pen in my hand.

Before adopting, when I saw a family with adopted children, especially a trans-racial family, I would think..."They are so cool. I think that's so neat. But I would never talk to them. They scare me."

Really. I was afraid I would say something dumb. And...my fear was warranted. I had said dumb things before and received a tongue lashing about it.

No tongue lashing will come from us.

I really believe this is something we are all going to have to learn together.

I'm so thankful for the people around us who are supportive of this adoption who I know will take the time to learn this with us. They still say stupid things (and so do we), but I know they love us, love Hudson, love adoption and are trying to figure this all out right along with our family.

When I think about the topic of adoption...the actual vocabulary of adoption, one word comes to my mind...

GRACE

I want my speech to be filled with grace.

I want to love...by giving others the benefit of the doubt.

My children have taught me this in such a real life way lately.

You know all the awful things people are NOT supposed to say about adoption to adoptive parents?

Well...my kids have said them to us, and about Hudson.

For example...

When we told Ashton that Hudson would be dark skinned like Danny, he said...

"I don't want him to look like Danny. I want him to have skin colored skin."

Skin colored skin to Ashton means WHITE skin.

We had to have a long talk with our son about God making everyone's skin different, and WHITE is not THE skin color...it's A skin color. We had to go over again that skin color doesn't matter. We are all the same.

When we were in Galveston, Hayden said...

"Why doesn't Hudson's mom want him?"

Again, we had to gracious teach Hayden that Hudson's mom desperately wants him, but has decided it would be best for Hudson to be placed in our family.

On the way home from Galveston, Hudson was crying in his car seat.

Hayden said, "I bet you he wants his real mom."

Ouch. Aaron had to graciously teach Hayden that I am Hudson's mom. The precious lady that gave birth to Hudson is an important part of our life and our family, but in this odd, new way - I am Hudson's mom too.

I would love to say that my kids are the only dummies.

But, even Aaron and I are having to be gracious with OURSELVES.

Do you know what we're working on right now?

We keep saying things like...

"With our kids, they weren't lifting their heads up like this until they were over a month old."

What?

Hudson IS our kid.

We're having to train our mouths to say what our hearts know is true...

"With our other kids, they weren't lifting their heads up like this until they were over a month old."

Hudson is our kid and Anson, Hayden and Ashton are our other kids.

As a mother, I know I can't shield my son from all that's coming.

I know that.  But I do think there can be some safe places for him - safe circles of friends and family who get us.

Before Hudson is old enough to understand what's being said, it would be great if we could erase phrases like these from our mouths...

"Anson, Hayden and Ashton are theirs, and then they adopted Hudson."

When you hear people say those things you can say...

No...they are all theirs. Anson, Hayden and Ashton were added to their family through childbirth, and Hudson was added through adoption...but they are all 100%, grade A, Hendrick.

Although we will talk extensively about adoption to Hudson, it would be so nice if he wasn't constantly reminded that he's adopted...and especially if he's not constantly labeled as adopted.

"These are the Hendrick's biological kids, and this is the little boy they adopted."

Even if you say that in a sweet voice, please...why does it have to be said at all?

We're white. Our son is black. He's not even biracial. I think it's obvious he's adopted.

We can't say things like, "With your kids did you (fill in the blank)." Again...Hudson is our kid just as much as Anson, Hayden and Ashton are. So, we all have to work on how we say this. "With your other kids (fill in the blank)" is the right way to refer to situations like these.

Questions about birth parents...

Remember...we love Hudson's birth parents. Love them.

We will talk your ear off about how cool they are. But, in a lot of adoption situations, there are some real issues that are private about the birth parents. Adoptive parents strive to never say negative things about their children's birth parents. In our case, seriously...we feel honored to have been chosen to parent Hudson. There's not even anything negative to share about Hudson's birth family. We could not be more proud of the DNA that has landed in our house. But, for other adoptive families, the truth is, there may be some things that are true about the birth parents, that wouldn't be uplifting to say. As a matter of fact, it would be gossip. So, in general, questions about the birth parents shouldn't be asked, in my opinion. If an adoptive parent knows you well enough, and wants you to know more about their child's birth family, they will tell you.

"Why did his mom give him up for adoption?" is probably not a great question to ask...especially in front of a child who has been adopted. In our case, our answer is so easy. "His birth mom is 18 and wants Hudson to be in a family." Our birth mom would never care if you knew that. We think she's so wise for the decision she made. But, in other cases, the answer an adoptive parent would have to give could be pretty complicated and down right dishonoring of the birth parent.  Putting a family in this sort of situation seems inconsiderate.

Remember...most adoptive parents LOVE talking about adoption, but be careful what you say in front of children who are adopted. Your ignorance, even if it's naive, OR your curiosity could SERIOUSLY hurt a child listening to what you are saying.

Other great posts about this topic...

This one is from Molly. I don't even know how we met, but she has been a huge encouragement to me through this entire adoption. You will learn so much from her...and wow...those little boys are just too cute.

Hudson is such a smiler...mostly in his sleep.

When he smiles, we've told the boys "He has gas."

Aaron just heard Hayden talking to Anson.

The conversation went like this...

Hayden said, "Anson, some time...I'm going to get that baby naked, and I'm going to put my hand on his boody, and then I'm going to make him laugh, and then we'll see if he really has gas."

You can officially call us crazy

Got Milk?

Well...I don't.

But what I do have is a newborn.

And the problem is...

I love breastfeeding. 

SO...

I know it may sound nuts to some, but one of the things that was hardest for me to get over when considering adoption was that I could not nurse our next child (if you've been visiting here for a long time, then I know...by now, nothing I say may seem crazy to you anymore).

I know women bond with their babies, even if they don't breastfeed.

This post is not to attack anyone for their choice to bottle feed their children.

But for me - not being able to nurse our next child was hard for me.

I also had, in the back of my mind our experience as foster parents.

Last year we fostered a newborn.

We got him straight from the hospital.

I bottle fed him, of course.

And here's the hard truth...

I never felt like he was mine.

Never.

Oh, I loved him. Loved him! He was precious, and we were thankful for every day we had with Baby Joe as a family. But, there's no clearer way to say this...I never felt that deep, "he's mine" connection to him.

Maybe that was because he wasn't mine.

I don't know.

But I do know that on top of my normal fear and grief of realizing if we adopt, I won't have milk, so I can't nurse our baby was that added experience of having a baby in our home for several months that I bottled fed, and never felt that crazy, mother instinct towards.

And then I found out that moms who adopt can nurse their babies!

This was huge for me.

As adoptive mothers who are nursing, you may or may not make your own milk. Everyone's body responds very differently.

But having milk is not the issue. Bonding is the issue. For me, seeing this child just like I saw Anson, Hayden and Ashton was the issue. I wanted Hudson to feel as much mine as the rest of our kids.  Whether it makes sense or not, breastfeeding was a giant "issue" that I needed to work through in the adoption process.

I would love to have a full milk supply so that Hudson was only getting breast milk.

However, that may never happen.

To get milk, experts recommend you do a few things...

Before you adopt, you can start pumping every three to four hours during the day for 20 minutes or so. I tried this, but had to stop. It hurt and, sheesh...I had three little boys running around my house at the time. Pumping is hardly discreet. I felt like I was constantly shutting myself in my room to pump, leaving my babies to talk to me through the door. That just couldn't happen in my house.

Or, if you have already brought a baby home, you can nurse your baby regularly. Having them at the breast every few hours can cause your body to kick in and start producing milk of its own.

There's also a prescription medication you can take. This medication was not created to make your body produce milk. Lactation is a crazy side effect from the drug. The medicine is actually for nausea. People on the medicine were found to be lactating, so now, doctors will prescribe this drug for moms, like me, who are trying to re-lactate. I was given Metoclopramide which was a substitute for Reglan. I got this prescription, started taking it and decided to quit. It made me so tired. Again...not good for a mother of three active little boys. I wanted to nurse, but had to be realistic. Milk was not necessarily my goal...bonding was, and I could start all that once Hudson came home.

You can also drink herbal teas from your local health food store to help build your milk supply. I have been doing this several times a day.



Because most women don't have a healthy milk supply before they adopt, in the mean time, you use one of these handy dandy contraptions:

I bought the Medela nursing system. However, Shannan Feldman bought the Lact-Aid nursing system, which looks like this...


For those of you who want to know how it works...

I fill the canteen-like container with formula. I wear it like a big milk necklace. Then, I tape one of the tubes to my skin, so that a little bit of the tubing is past my nipple. Holy cow, I just said nipple on my blog. I'm such a hippy.  Can't wait to see what pervs end up here.  Boy will they be disappointed.

When Hudson latches on, the thin tube is in his mouth, so when he sucks, he's actually swallowing the formula.

Here's a picture of what this looks like...

Picture of baby nursing using the system

That picture is not of my boob. Mine are not nearly that impressive, and my baby is not white.

That's the mechanics behind nursing, but here's the gushy, motherly part...

During our adoption training, we learn a lot about bonding issues.

Can I just say, I was pretty nervous about the whole thought that I could bring a baby home, and for awhile, not feel like this child was mine.

I know adoption is different in a lot of ways, but this one way was the hardest of all for me to wrap my brain around and embrace.

As soon as my other kids were born, I immediately loved them in a deranged, you're mine, I'm yours kind of way.

To even think about not feeling that way immediately about Hudson caused a lot of fear and grief for me.

I definitely think nursing him with the supplementer sped up our bonding time.

At first, "dry nursing" was so painful.

I remember at day three sitting with Aaron in the living room weighing the pros and cons of continuing. It hurt so much! When you have milk, breastfeeding should never hurt. If it hurts, something is wrong and can easily be fixed. Dry nursing is different. It just hurts for awhile.

To make it a little easier, I only nursed during the day. I used Lanolin after every single feeding.

I bottle fed at night, giving my girls a much needed break.

I also decided, before Hudson ever came home, that even if we had to use bottles, I was going to be the only one who fed him. That seemed more like it was with my other kids, so that's the way I wanted it with Hudson.

Pretty soon, the soreness went away.

I'm so thankful I persevered. I'm thankful I didn't give up that night sitting in the living room discussing it with Aaron.

Nursing Hudson now is so sweet.

I'm still having problems with it being inefficient at times. Sometimes, nursing Hudson takes the right, normal amount of time. Sometimes, he'll nurse for 25 minutes and still have two ounces left in the canteen (he eats a total of 3.5 ounces right now). It must have to do with not having the tubing in just the right spot. I'll get better at it, I'm sure. Most of the time, I nurse him for about 25 minutes and then pour the remaining amount in a little bottle and feed him the rest (it's usually only about 1/2 an ounce).

I still feed him a bottle in the middle of the night for one of the feedings, just so I can go back to bed quicker.

I still haven't gotten down how to do this weird thing in public. I've flashed my fair share of people and feel like I need many helpers to assist me as I try to get Hudson latched on while I'm out and about. A white family with an African American baby is already an attention getter...now add to that the mother has on a milk necklace and there are dark brown feet sticking out of her nursing cover up. We're quite the head turners.

But I'm loving nursing Hudson. I'm so thankful for this neat device that lets me pull my baby close, close, close to me. I love how he prefers me over the bottle at night. He's down right ugly about the middle of the night bottle. I love it!

So many of the kinks and rough spots have been worked out, and I know we'll figure out the rest of the glitches.

Want to know something else even more bizarre?

I know...how can anything be any more bizarre than this.

I only use half formula.

The rest of what Hudson is eating is milk my nursing friends have given us.

Yep.


My sweet friends are pumping and giving us their breast milk, with all its nutrition and super good stuff so that we can feed it to Hudson. My freezer is filled with TREASURE from these wonderful, milk making women.

The Rest of the Story

On Monday night, we finally took the kids up to the hospital to see Hudson.

Poor guys.

They had asked non stop since he was born..."When are we going to see our baby?"

They were so excited when we told them it was time to meet their baby brother.

They were beyond eager to see him, and to bring him home.

We had a talk with them before we went to "j's" room to visit Hudson.

"This is her time right now with the baby. He'll come home eventually, but we want this time between Hudson and his family to be so sweet and special. So, please don't ask us in front of them if we are bringing the baby home. That will hurt their heart. We're not bringing him home today."

Adoption is so wonderfully strange.

It was hard to see the boys so excited and yet have to ask them NOT to talk about bringing the baby home. It's hard to explain to kids the ebb and flow of adoption. We're so excited, anticipating the moment we take Hudson home, and yet his family, is dreading that time when they kiss him good bye.

Hard.

Kids are brutally honest. That's one of the things I love about them.  I tried to remember that when Ashton said, right as we were leaving...

"I don't want to leave Hudson here. I want to take him home with us. When is he coming home with us?"

It was so sweet and so sincere, and all of us in the room felt the weight of his words. Hudson's family feeling for us, and our family feeling for them.

Sweet Ashton...sweet, honest, DISOBEDIENT, Ashton!

The next morning I woke up and immediately thought...

This is the day I become Hudson's mom.

Today we are going to pick up a baby that is a stranger to us, and somehow, he will be ours, and God will knit him into our hearts and our home. In no time at all, I will feel for this child, that I barely know right now, all the love, intimacy and connection that I feel for Anson, Hayden and Ashton.

Adoption...it's just incredible.

We had spent several days...several intense days with Hudson's family. Like I said earlier, I think that time was definitely needed.

However, it didn't make the day of placement any easier to think through.

As I was getting ready, it's so hard to explain the crazy emotions and thoughts that went through my head.

Remember Ecclesiastes 3?

A time to laugh, a time to weep, a time to plant, a time to uproot, a time to mourn, a time to dance, a time to tear, a time to mend, a time to be silent, a time to speak.

I have experienced all of those life emotions.

If you've lived long at all, you have too.

I have been sad.

I have laughed hard.

I have had to say good bye.

I have needed to speak up.

I have been reconciled with others.

I have had to be silent.

The difference with adoption is, you feel all of those intense feelings in the exact same moment.

Hudson's first family was experiencing grief...weeping, mourning, tearing...they had to say good bye to Hudson. In a real way, he was being torn from their arms...from their life.

And we felt so much joy...were filled with excitement and laughter. We couldn't wait for him to be in our car...on the way home with us. I couldn't wait to nurse him for the first time.

And yet we were also filled with so much sadness for his family.

Adoption is messy.

Like Cindy Seay said...you feel years worth of emotions in just a matter of moments.

You live out all of Ecclesiastes 3 within hours.

"How am I going to be able to watch our birth mom hand Hudson over to us at placement today, Lord?"

I would cry just thinking about it.

When we got to the hospital, we were as prepared as we could be for the placement ceremony.

We brought our birth mom a photo album filled with all the pictures we had taken during labor, delivery, of her holding Hudson, of her family...

And we bought her the sweetest necklace by James Avery of a mother holding a baby.

We wanted our birth mom to know that we would never forget her, or let Hudson forget what she so bravely and lovingly did for him.

We were ready to walk into a situation and be a mess emotionally...filled with excitement and sadness all in the same hour.

And yet...

We got to the hospital and Cindy said...

"Don't be offended, but "J" doesn't want to see you today. She's fine. She just wants to say good bye to Hudson and go home."

One part of me was sad. We love our birth mom and know she loves us...so it was hard to think of her pushing us away.

But we understood.

And to be honest, I was somewhat relieved.

I think both of our families felt the same way.

We knew it would be hard to deal with the pain and the excitement at the same time.

So, our birth mom had her time with Hudson Wednesday morning, telling him good bye...loving on him.

And then she said good-bye.

Hudson became ours.

We were taken into the nursery where we dressed our baby.

We signed papers.

We put him in the car seat and left the hospital.

We love our birth mom, are still praying for her every day.

We sent her a letter this week and lots of pictures of Hudson.

From this point on, for the next six months, we will send letters and pictures to New Life that will be passed onto "J." After six months, once the adoption is finalized, we are free to be as open with our birth mom as we want.

We are praying for a long, beautiful relationship with Hudson's mom.

We want her to see this baby grow up. We want him to know her. We want to be a constant source of love and encouragement to this woman who has given us the sweetest gift of all.

After we left the hospital, we went back to our hotel room.

Look...I'm just being honest here...adoption can be so weird.

If you've birthed babies, you know...you would NEVER leave a hospital and go check into a hotel, spending your first night at home with baby NOT at home.

But the truth was...we were far from home. We wanted to sit and soak in the baby we had been asking God to bring us.

I wanted to nurse him. (I know you're all dying to know about this...have no fear...Monday's post will be all about nursing an adopted baby. It's so fabulous!)

You know what other insane thing we did?

We went out to eat at the Rainforest Cafe and took our brand new baby with us.

No, I would have NEVER done this with the babies I birthed.

But hello...the babies I birthed were born within a few miles of my home and in close proximity to a refrigerator and a pantry.

We were in Galveston. We were hungry. Some things are just different about adoption, and you have to be fine with that!

My choices were to either sit and starve in my hotel room alone with our new son, waiting for Aaron to get back from eating dinner with the boys OR go along, taking a wee-tiny, shouldn't be out and about baby with us.

We chose the latter.