I spend alot of time just browsing adoption blogs to connect with other women who are feeling the same frustrations as I am. I found this poem on one blog that puts what I feel on a daily basis into words (although I don't feel like I am waiting 'alone' as it says in the poem. I have a great husband, friends and family who are all waiting in anticipation)
Song of the Waiting Mother
I'm pregnant, but my tummy isn't growing.
And no one ever calls me "Little Mom."
The public simply isn't overflowing
With questions that I'd handle with aplomb.
There are no special clothes to mark my waiting.
Nobody stops and smiles as I pass by.
The absence of a due-date is frustrating
And looking at the nursery makes me cry.
When I'm overdue no one will worry.
The phone won't ring and ring as friends check in.
I can't induce my labor in a hurry,
My new life as a parent to begin.
Adoption is a worrisome endeavor,
And waiting all alone is not much fun.
To be "with child" a year seems like forever.
Dear God, we're ready! Please send us our little one!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Orphanage for HIV/Aids children
As I have mentioned, I am part of an online group of adoptive parents who are adopting from Ethiopia. One of the members (Sandi) has a sister (Meg) who has just recently opened a new orphanage for AIDS orphans in Ethiopia! Here is a link to the blog for FAYA.
http://fayaorphanage.blogspot.com/
I know many our family and friends may be interested in sponsoring a child in Ethiopia. Here is the perfect place to sponsor a child and we know where the money is going! Please consider helping Sandi and Meg help these children. Children that are HIV positive pretty much have no chance to be adopted or be part of a family. This orphanage, the caregivers and the other children will be their families and they need your help!
http://fayaorphanage.blogspot.com/
I know many our family and friends may be interested in sponsoring a child in Ethiopia. Here is the perfect place to sponsor a child and we know where the money is going! Please consider helping Sandi and Meg help these children. Children that are HIV positive pretty much have no chance to be adopted or be part of a family. This orphanage, the caregivers and the other children will be their families and they need your help!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Something to Share
Someone on the yahoo group I belong to shared this and I thought I'd share it with you! *smile*
ADOPTIVE MOTHERS
Being an adoptive mother is not for every woman. She must possess not only the natural mother instinct but an understanding and appreciation of the situation hat brought a child into her arms making her a mother. The adoptive family comes to be by choices made, choices made by the first parents and by the adoptive parents. This bond the adoptive mother has with her child grows over time, like the child did within his first mother’s womb.
Day by day, touch by touch, with each tear, kiss and memory made they become a family. Adoptive mothers have that special knack to let love grow.
Adoptive mothers know that she’s a mender of wounds, not just of the physical skinned knees with a band-aid and a kiss, but of the heart. She gives love, acceptance, and permission to ask and talk about the day he was born and of his first parents.
Adoptive mothers are embracers, not only of the child with many hugs and kisses, but of the child’s heritage and history. She embraces the facts of her child’s past with strength for herself and the child. She’s not only a memory maker planning family vacations, activities, and birthday parties, but also a memory keeper.
She’s a tier of shoelaces and of hearts. She weaves lives together into a tapestry of a new family, with many different brightly colored threads showcasing their individualities and family origins. Together they create one unit attached to each other.
Adoptive mothers are experts at finding lost objects, but understand and validate the profound, deep loss left by adoption. She allows the tears to fall and grief to be felt, allowing the mourning of the mom not there. She is secure in knowing that she’s not a replacement, but a finisher of a race for someone who, for whatever reason, could not run any longer.
This role is not for the weak of spirit, or the easily wounded. Loving a child not born to her but calling him her own, but this is what she does, it is her calling…..She is a mother.
ADOPTIVE MOTHERS
Being an adoptive mother is not for every woman. She must possess not only the natural mother instinct but an understanding and appreciation of the situation hat brought a child into her arms making her a mother. The adoptive family comes to be by choices made, choices made by the first parents and by the adoptive parents. This bond the adoptive mother has with her child grows over time, like the child did within his first mother’s womb.
Day by day, touch by touch, with each tear, kiss and memory made they become a family. Adoptive mothers have that special knack to let love grow.
Adoptive mothers know that she’s a mender of wounds, not just of the physical skinned knees with a band-aid and a kiss, but of the heart. She gives love, acceptance, and permission to ask and talk about the day he was born and of his first parents.
Adoptive mothers are embracers, not only of the child with many hugs and kisses, but of the child’s heritage and history. She embraces the facts of her child’s past with strength for herself and the child. She’s not only a memory maker planning family vacations, activities, and birthday parties, but also a memory keeper.
She’s a tier of shoelaces and of hearts. She weaves lives together into a tapestry of a new family, with many different brightly colored threads showcasing their individualities and family origins. Together they create one unit attached to each other.
Adoptive mothers are experts at finding lost objects, but understand and validate the profound, deep loss left by adoption. She allows the tears to fall and grief to be felt, allowing the mourning of the mom not there. She is secure in knowing that she’s not a replacement, but a finisher of a race for someone who, for whatever reason, could not run any longer.
This role is not for the weak of spirit, or the easily wounded. Loving a child not born to her but calling him her own, but this is what she does, it is her calling…..She is a mother.
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