LADDventure

Autumn Equinox

Summer can be a difficult time here in the desert. It feels relentless and unforgiving. We took our first San Diego beach vacation with the girls at the end of June, and it was a break from the heat and real life. But, in that small beach house with no errands to distract me and concentrated doses of family time, I came face to face with who I had become and just how outside of myself I had been for the past few months. It was a struggle to relax, a struggle to enjoy what I wanted be able to. At this point we were waiting on a decision on the birth parents' appeal to terminate parental rights, and assuming we wouldn't know anything until late in the year. But then we got an email from our lawyer that the birth parents' second appeal had been thrown out. I cried in relief at the leopard shark tank at Sea World when Jeremiah showed it to me on his phone, unable to even believe that this agonizing part of the process was over. There would be no more chances, no more appeals, and now the adoption could truly move forward. 

My parents came to visit about a week after we got back. During their visit, we heard about another potential bump in the road, and I lost it completely. I was at my end and could not handle another unexpected complication.  I couldn't see the good anymore. I felt wrung out and cried alone in my room leaving my parents and Jeremiah at a loss as to how to comfort me. I was just done. The potential complication ended up being a non-issue, but I remember feeling profoundly that I had let this whole process steal the joy of being a family from me completely. I read my parents this quote from a fellow mom who had adopted from foster care. For the first time, someone had accurately captured how I was feeling and how this process had deeply affected me:

"I cannot sugar-coat it.  The process was very difficult for me personally.  I don’t know that I can ever adequately describe what it was like to raise (him) as my own son for three years and wonder every night as I put him to sleep if he would stay in our family.  It was an extremely painful and stressful time in our lives.  As a new mom, that cloud of worry affected how I learned to parent, and caused me to detach in many ways. I am still working hard to overcome some of the parenting habits I developed during that season in order to cope with my fear of loss.  Adopting in this way was not hard out of inconvenience.  It was so much more than annoying social workers and intrusive home inspections.  It was emotionally traumatizing."

Kristen Howerton

When I should have been relieved, I was hanging on to the hurt, the fear, the relentless nature of this adoption process, and it was time to put it to rest. We were moving forward. We would be able to actually adopt our girls for sure, and I needed to move forward too - out of the guarded state of limbo and into my best self as a mother, wife, person.

Autumn always feels like a fresh start to me. This fall was no exception. As school supply aisles filled with fresh notebooks and football returned, I felt invigorated to set some new goals and take control in a new way as we entered my favorite time of year. As soon as the temperatures dip ever so slightly it's time to put summer to rest - to trade blazing long days for cozy predictability and a fresh perspective.

Fall is beautiful, but the crazy thing about the gorgeous colors is they are literally only visible because the leaves are essentially dying. The bright green chlorophyll fades away, and we get to see the bright golds, oranges, and reds that were there all along; unbelievable beauty made from dying leaves. Autumn embraces the fact that there's not enough water or sunlight to thrive and turns it into something amazing. It embraces dormancy and reminds us there's even a time for brittle brown leaves to be beautiful. You can be breaking down and still vibrant. It's ok to show up and be your most brilliant self, not in spite of your brokenness, but because of it. Like a tree, you just keep living until you're alive again. It is time to put the unrelenting heat of summer to rest. It is time to see the beauty, and love things just as they are in all their bright, brisk imperfection.

The Rock in the Room

There is this rock in the room of our family. It is the rock of this complicated adoption case. It sits smack in the middle of the room, has been here for over a year, and in all likelihood will be there for months to come. Weeds of resentment and discontent grow around it, threatening to strangle out the delicate seedlings of this brand new family. It’s huge, and heavy, and it’s not going anywhere anytime soon. At some point, it will be moved, but we don’t know when and we can literally do nothing about it on our own. But, here’s the thing. Sometimes I pick up the rock and carry it around, obsessed with it. Sometimes I examine every little nook and cranny for a weakness or crack in the rock that might make it easier to obliterate. It’s in the way of a lot of things. It’s really more of a nuisance, but always there and something we all have to acknowledge and walk around.  I often kick and punch it in resentment and end up with nothing more bruised fists and stubbed toes. I'm just barely able to lift it, enough to fool me into thinking I can actually do something about it. I pick it up and try to move it. I heave it across the room in exhaustion, but it takes all of my effort and energy to do so. I can’t carry anything else when I’m carrying it. I can’t pick up my kids or even have free hands to help them, hug them, nurture them. I can’t write when I’m busy carrying it around. I complain to my friends and family about the rock. I blame it for all kinds of things. I use it as an excuse for not living the life happening all around it.

Sometimes I'm actually able to forget about it. I am strolling blissfully through the room of our family, feeling normal and whole and legit when bad court news, or a home visit comes up, and I stumble blindly over the rock again, reminded rudely of its unwelcome presence in our house.

Finally, defeated and out of options, I cry on it and plead with it, but it’s unyielding. It offers no comfort and when the tear stains dry, the rock remains. It doesn’t fit out the door and at some point someone will come with special equipment and the authority to lift it out. One day it will be permanently removed. But, until then, when I find myself getting worked up about it, I consciously make a decision to walk away from the rock. It's a choice, and it takes everything in me to choose not to pick the rock up because my hands, mind and energy won’t be available for other things. It’s a choice.

Where I've Been

I have not posted here since February. I've changed so much since then that this space feels foreign. Am I that girl in the headshot anymore? I should rework the whole site - rebrand, redesign. I could get tangled in waiting until I have the perfect platform and perfect vision of hindsight to say the things I need to say, or I could just let it evolve naturally, sometimes painfully, as I go. I don't know how to catch everybody up other than to share with you some raw thoughts directly from my journal the past few months. I want this blog to be our story as it unfolds - a place to write and breathe and connect again. But, I don't think I can explain where I am currently without showing you a bit about where I've been. So here goes...

March 2016

I don’t even know where to start other than here at this keyboard. I know I need to write again, force my mind and fingers to form words, but I feel physically numb other than hot tears rolling down my cheeks and tightness in my chest. I went to my first counseling appointment today. Everything’s not fine. I’m not ok. I don’t recognize myself and have a hard time being in the same room as my family sometimes. I don’t know how to not make their every negative emotion my own. I don’t know how to walk away when they follow me. I don’t know how to not be completely thrown off by a great week followed by an epic meltdown. Things are not funny to me like they once were. I can’t seem to just grin or shrug my shoulders.

Here’s why:

This adoption case is never-ending. For the second time, I am filing a petition to adopt them. It all seems like a cruel joke and an exercise in futility. It is very difficult to imagine ourselves at the finish line as it's pushed further and further away from us. This has all left me with no reserves. I don’t have the patience a mother might normally have for a tantrum-throwing toddler when the tank is already depleted. I am not the capable mature adult and loving parent everyone thinks I am. I am slowly unravelling from the inside out and desperate for something to give - either the tantrums, or the bathroom issues, or the court dates, or the home visits.

I’m answering questions at preschool about whether or not my daughter can be included in the class picture because of safety and privacy concerns, and which last name they should teach her to write. It's heartbreaking. I obsess over their outfits and hair because at least then we'll all look together on the outside when I don’t feel it on the inside. What is a mom supposed to feel like? It’s been a year. When does this get better? 

I will feel surges of pride and disbelief that they are mine, but then I remember that they’re not officially yet, and the flood of anxiety and injustice returns.  Birth family visits are hard, because it’s a both a reminder of what everyone has lost and the physical connection and history we’ll never share. We get together with the adoptive families of the girls' siblings. They are a source of support, but it's also complicated - like having a third set of in-laws to navigate. 

I desperately want the girls to be mine at the same time as finding it difficult to be in the same car with them, or to hear another word or chewing noise from them. I spent years envying pregnant bellies and baby showers, and now I’m in the supremely unfair position of even envying those in the adoption community who have met, brought home, and finalized adoptions all in half the time we’ve had the girls. Foster care adoption stories either terrify me or make me jealous. I was hoping to be an advocate and a member of this adoption community, but I'm too in it. It's too raw, and I feel I don't fit in. We are more than foster parents but less than adoptive and didn’t plan on any of this.

April 2016

What lies am I believing right now?

I’m not enough and can’t do this. This will never be over and I’ll never get to adopt them. Nobody understands. I don’t have time to do the things I want to do. This is too much for me. I’ve changed so much and become too much to handle. I cannot stay calm. Everything is out of my control. I have to pretend like I have it all together because I chose this.

May 2016

It’s the week before J's 3^rd birthday, and we have ear infections and broken garage doors, and all of the things. They’ve felt horrible, and I’ve been horrible. When I’m feeling like the worst mom ever, I realize I feel a compulsion to do the things I’m good at all of a sudden. I’m good at shopping, and decorating, making their rooms tidy, and their little corners of the world cute.  I order birthday presents and picture them piled up on a new tiny picnic table. I email the art museum about her party and order lollipop sticks for rainbow fruit kabobs. I buy watercolor party favors and order a cake. I do the one thing that I’ve got - the thing in the moment that comes naturally to me when all of the rest of it feels like a struggle. And maybe it’s a superficial thing. I buy them multiple 50% off swimsuits and sandals. I braid their hair and put it in ponytails dripping with curls from yesterday’s twirly buns. I dress them in bright dresses and watch them twirl in circles as I try to remember that I am enough, that what we have here is enough.

When Tuning Out My Kids is a Good Thing

There are so many articles about the evils of ignoring your kids and scrolling on your phone, or how to be a constantly engaged, involved mom. But, there is a flip-side to that. Sometimes, tuning your kids out can be a good thing. See, I tend to be a micro-manager mom. The elementary teacher in me has more eyes in the back of my head than is fair and ears that hear it all. I am incapable of ignoring misbehavior, and my kids have no question about who is in charge. There are great things about this. I can think and react quickly on my feet and know how to nip things in the bud before they get out of hand. As a result, my kids are generally very well-behaved and pleasant to be around. The downside is hyper-awareness and difficulty letting my kids be kids. I know intellectually from my years of training in early childhood education what is normal and to be expected, but that doesn't mean I'm good at letting it happen.

I am an introvert by nature. I prefer lots of quiet and long stretches of time alone to think and work. One of the hardest parts for me of instantly becoming the mom of two little ones is the change in noise and activity level in our house. While they are very young, and still need plenty of close supervision, it dawned on me the other day that tuning out and ignoring certain things actually would be a good thing. I've found that working on the ability to tune my kids out has a few benefits:

It allows them to just be kids without an overly-critical mom hovering around. I tend to have many (ahem) suggestions about how things should be done when not everything needs to be a rule. I'm learning to let them do things their way and make mistakes, which sometimes requires me to look away and consciously turn off the side of me that wants to guide and manage everything. Kids are also just weird and annoying at times, and that's OK.

It lets them have fun and be themselves in their own home. I tend to be the type of mom who hears laughter in the other room and assumes an evil plot is being hatched and much naughtiness will soon follow. I don't want to be that way. I hugely value laughter and humor and want our house filled with both, yet I tend to shut it down real quick. Going from being a teacher to a mom, I've had to adjust from the level of control necessary to manage a classroom versus a home. I have to remind myself that the goals are not the same here at home with my own kids as they were at school with my students. Things that would have turned into mass chaos in a classroom of 25 are actually OK with just 2 at home. I do think it is perfectly acceptable and even necessary to have rules and expectations in place so that you enjoy living with these little people as much as possible and they learn to respect their home. But, I have to remember that it is their home too, their safe resting place, the place where they kick off their shoes, relax, and have fun.

They establish and work on their own sibling relationship. My girls were sisters before they were my daughters, and they will continue to be sisters for longer than any other relationship in their lives. They need to be able to tell secrets without me asking, "What are you whispering about?" or make memories together that don't necessarily include their parents. They need to fight, cry, hug, laugh together without interruption to build those bonds, and sometimes it requires me tuning it out and letting them be.

Dad gets to be in charge too. Mr. Ladd and I joked before we even had the girls about how I would definitely be bad cop, and he would be good cop. Now we have them, and I've found it hard to hand over the reigns and let him do things his way at times (even though he's an amazing dad). I've found sometimes I just need to physically remove myself from the situation, go up in my room, turn on all the fans for white noise, and leave them alone. Tuning out actually helps their relationship with him and gives me a break.

They can solve problems and entertain themselves. Developmentally, kids need free play. It is being taken away in formal educational settings at an alarming rate, so it is important for me to allow them long stretches of time at home to imagine, create, and play together without my intervention. They need to be able to get messy, make some noise, and settle arguments on their own to grow.

Their emotions don't have to be my emotions. Crying and tantrums were very jarring for me at first. Starting parenting at toddlerhood is not easy, and it is very hard for me to just let them have their moment and walk away without wanting to throw a mini tantrum of my own. I'm learning the extremely hard way, that I don't have to be upset just because they are upset and to be comfortable with the discomfort of irrational crying or fits. Tuning it out for a few minutes usually means it ends sooner, and we are able to move on faster.

It keeps me calm and able to focus on other things. It is taking me a while to adjust to the constant background noise at home. I felt paralyzed by it at first, unable to carry on a conversation or complete a thought with all the kid activity in the background. I do insist on inside voices in the house, but I'm learning I can still function if I tune things out a little bit and carry on. I don't need to get all worked up over every squabble or annoying noise. This week I turned on some music, and organized half my kitchen cabinets while my girls played in the living room for an hour and a half, and everyone was better for it.

Calling in Help for Parenting Peace

Our cherished babysitter, who is sanity and love, all wrapped up in a snickerdoodle

I've become a big fan of the "Mommy Don't Be a Hero" mantra. I cannot and do not want to do it all, and life with two young kids requires help. As a part of my mission for more peace this year, I intentionally identified a few areas where something had to give and then called in the professionals for a little assistance.

Part-Time Childcare

Part of moving out of survival mode for all of us means Mommy needs to be able to focus on something other than the kids 24-7. V started preschool this fall three mornings a week, but J was still home with me full time. In many ways I needed to swallow my pride and admit that for me personally, full days all week long with a two year old was not fun and was taking its toll. Even on the best of days it takes energy and focus to keep things going well, constantly thinking two steps ahead of a mischievous toddler. She seemed a bit bored and particularly defiant when her sister was at preschool three mornings a week, so I decided to ask if part-time was an option at our beloved child care center and preschool. It was, and as fate would have it, the same hours as V was going to preschool were available for J in the 2 year old class. So, I now drop both of them off three mornings a week, and I can't tell you the difference it has made. It gives me a break from them, and them a break from me. It's allowed me 9 hours a week to get back to writing, dedicate specific time to the podcast, catch up with errands, and just breathe and experience my house without other people in it once in awhile, which I'm finding is essential to my sanity. It is not cheap, and there have been a few adjustments to new schedules and everything, but it couldn't be going better for everyone involved.

Hello Fresh

I love cooking, and had even figured out a rhythm to our afternoons that included Sesame Street and wind-down time for the girls and time for me to focus on making dinner during that dreaded witching hour. What remained difficult were the logistics of planning and shopping for well-balanced meals. So, my brother and sister-in-law recommended Hello Fresh , and I decided to give it a try. We are currently just getting the plan for 3 meals a week, for 2 people, and I love it. Fresh ingredients show up at my house with three dinners per week I can rely on. All the hard work of gathering and measuring ingredients is done, and I just get to do the fun part, which is cooking it. I've even been pleasantly surprised at how it's expanding my cooking skills and ideas. I've filled in the other nights with simple things like spaghetti and tacos, and we're getting carry out one night a week now, which feels like a treat instead of dinner desperation. I highly recommend it, and was not compensated in any way to tell you about this - just really want to share what's working for me. You can use my referral code (MVDHXJ) if you want to give it a try at a discounted price!

Monthly Dates

For the past two months, Mr. Ladd and I have looked at our calendars at the beginning of the month and picked out a few potential days that may work for dates. Then I contact our favorite babysitter (who is now student teaching and only available nights and weekends) to make sure we get on her books. Last month we went to the Cardinal/Packer playoff game, a Phoenix Suns game (courtesy of awesome floor seat tickets from Mr. Ladd's work), and a movie date to see The Revenant. This month we have a full day of Jeeping planned already. I feel like we've done a good job of prioritizing time away as a couple from the beginning, but it's so important to keep it up. This gives us guaranteed time and something to look forward to.

How do you keep your parenting peace? Any changes you're making or ways you're calling in help? I'd love to hear ideas from you.

Reset Button

The first month of 2016 is over, and It's been 5 months exactly since I've posted here. If you follow me on Instagram, you know it's not because I haven't had things to say, or cute pictures to share. But, mostly it's because I personally have felt a little like I'm drowning, chasing after things that I no longer want to or can. This adoption process has met unexpected obstacle after obstacle, and we've gotten further away from when we thought this would all be over and official. Admittedly, it has been extremely hard for me, and I've gotten a bit lost. In the face of everything being completely out of our control, I've clung to control over things that actually don't matter here at home, and it's exhausting. In reality, nothing has changed in our day to day lives. The girls are doing great. They are securely attached to us and thriving.

In reflecting on this past year, I realize I've been chasing words like normal and perfect and should. I've been focused on getting there and forgotten about the already here. I've chased flawless behavior from my kids over connection and settling in as a family. I've often chased after the future kids I want them to turn into instead of meeting them where they are. I've been chasing my old definitions of normal instead of wading through the mess to find a new normal.

We are at a stage in this adoption journey where we need to move out of survival mode. It was necessary for a while, and even sheltering as we focused on the logistics of becoming instant parents to two little girls. But, survival mode takes its toll. It has left me tired, heavy, and unhealthy. I'm stressed, with knots in my neck and my stomach. It's hard for me to focus or create. I feel overwhelmed and bored all at the same time. I feel angry and panicky more often than I'd like. As a wife I feel resentful and selfish. I have a caring, hard-working, amazing husband who I'm having a hard time connecting with and communicating with in our new roles as parents. My house is more cluttered and disorganized than I'd like, but I'm unmotivated to do even simple upkeep tasks at times. I don't feel like I'm using my gifts and talents creatively or as a mother. I'm not writing, creating, or leading confidently. My half of the podcast is hanging on by the seat of its pants usually, and my blog has withered.

I took January to reflect and reset, and after a personal retreat this month...

I feel motivated to make some changes. I'm looking forward to growing in 2016 in my enjoyment and confidence as a mother and in personal health. At 80 I want to be a grandmother who is healthy and active enough to connect with grandkids and great grandkids with sass, spunk, and a sense of humor. I want my kids gathered around my table telling stories of a childhood filled with structure, yes. But also warmth and humor and honesty.

So I've chosen a word for the year - PEACE. No matter what happens in the adoption process (this could get way harder before it gets easier) or whatever else 2016 throws at us, I need to find peace. My goals for 2016 are broad overall but specific around that one word. This year I want to focus on getting peace, being at peace personally, and making peace for my family. I will be writing more about what that looks like for me in the months to come, and thank you for reading along with me.

Becoming Mine

My mom and dad came to visit and meet the girls for the first time this past week, and introducing them to my parents somehow made them even more mine. Something I am finding about this adoption journey is there are definite bonding turning points. There are days that cement them as my daughters in a deeper way than they've been and it happens incrementally as we do life as a family of four. Bonding in adoption is obviously very different than giving birth. There are no hormones involved to help this process along. It happens inorganically through intention and experiences where all of a sudden it hits you in a new way and with a burst of pride that these are your girls.

I felt that switch - that turn around a bonding corner when we road-tripped with them to El Paso for a family wedding, when I took them to swimming lessons and beamed with pride, and every time I introduce them to people who are important to us.

Nana and Opa watched them Saturday morning for us so we could attend a preschool orientation for V. I felt it again as I cried on and off the whole way through it, for all kinds of layered reasons. First, as a former teacher, it was bizarre to be on the other side of the parent/teacher dynamic for the first time. I remembered those back-to school jitters and special moments with my students and missed it. It's also surreal to already be enrolling a child in preschool after only parenting them for five months. That's not the usual way of things. But, love just oozes out of this school, and I am so grateful for such a nurturing first school experience for my smart cookie. She is beyond ready and I think will absolutely flourish. One of the teachers read a little poem about Jack's mother at the bottom of the beanstalk, saying goodbye and knowing this was just the first beanstalk for him, and that there would be other larger ones to climb in his future. I sat there humbled at the opportunity to be the one at the bottom of the beanstalk for my girls.

May Sucked, June & July Disappeared

By way of catching up, the past few months have flown by and have been hard and full and all of the things. First of all, we found out some tough news in May - some legal business that has nothing to do with us or the girls, but will undoubtedly delay their adoption by quite a bit. They are not going anywhere, and we won't be sharing any other details, but in short, we are looking at many months before we can finalize their adoption. At first this news was devastating and scary. Now it's mostly just another hurdle to overcome and something so completely out of our control that our only two options are to freak out or let go. We've chosen to let go, not because we're good at that, but because we like our sanity and will lose it otherwise.

I've wanted to write here, regularly and memorably about this whole messy process, but this news took the wind out of my sails and left far less emotional energy than I was hoping for. I have so many stories, questions, struggles, insights into this world of adoption and parenthood that I don't know where to begin. I stare at blank pages, take my kids to swim lessons, and tell everyone it's going good when that doesn't even begin to cover it.

May was bad news, Mr. Ladd settling into a new job, two weeks of terrible two's, a first Mother's Day for me, and a second birthday for J but the first one we got to celebrate with her and all the emotional mixed-upness that comes with that. The girls also met Mr. Ladd's side of the extended family for the first time at his brother's wedding in El Paso. There was good, but it was all exhausting and I wasn't sad to flip the calendar page.

June was swim lessons, a first Father's Day for Mr. Ladd, and catching our breath a bit. We started counseling because we'll take all the help we can get navigating this whole thing, and we consciously found ways to slow down our schedule and expectations to find a sustainable rhythm as a family.

July was a fun 4th with the girls, eye surgery and new glasses for V, first trip to the dentist, and lots of swimming to survive the long summer afternoons here in the desert. I've blinked, and now July is on its way out too. The girls have been in our lives for almost 5 months and I can't believe how fast it has gone, but also how certain days have dragged along. Those months fly by so fast while you're busy counting the minutes until bedtime.

How I Met My Daughters Part 5: There You Are

4 months ago, we brought V and J home to live with us full-time, just ten days after meeting them for the very first time. It was Tuesday March 3rd 2015, at 2:30 pm. Their case worker was meeting us at their grandmother's house to introduce us, and I don't think I had ever been more nervous for anything in my life. We first stopped to pick out some flowers for their grandma. It was our first time meeting her too. It seemed like far too little to bring someone who had been raising our kids for the past year and a half, but we knew this was not easy for her and thought it couldn't hurt to offer a small gesture.

We drove the 40 minutes to her house without saying much. We exited off the highway and I will never forget the faded billboard on the side of a tire shop that said, "Enjoy the road ahead." We found their house and realized we didn't see your case worker's car out front. We wanted her to introduce us officially and help break the ice, so we drove around the neighborhood until we saw her car.

When she finally pulled up, we followed her to the screen door and their grandma answered it with tears in her eyes already, falling into a hug with the case worker who assured her it would be OK. She reminded her this was a good thing, and we were good people. She nodded her head that she knew and we handed her the flowers and introduced ourselves. She took them with shaking hands and introduced us to the girls. V and J and their two older sisters were all on the living room floor. I just vividly remembering looking at them thinking, "There you are!"

V was wearing black high tops and tiny pink glasses. She gave us a nervous but friendly "Hi!" and showed us her doll. Shortly afterward she was singing her ABC's and a few songs she had learned from daycare while checking back in with her grandma for hugs. She was playing Barbies with her sisters and started driving the Barbies to the store and bringing us back candy.

J hesitantly joined in when she saw V having fun with us. She was wearing a shirt that said "Daddy Makes Me Smile" which one of her older siblings had decorated with permanent marker. Their grandma told us how healthy and smart they both were, and started tearing up about how she hadn't spent one full day apart from the girls since she'd had them. After a while their brothers came home from school and sat right down to do their homework after politely shaking our hands, and bringing J a sippy cup of milk.

The oldest had to leave for football practice but came back in the door in tears, thinking we'd be taking them away forever that night. Grandma reassured him that it would be a few days, and that we would visit and call and stay in touch. My heart was breaking for him and that moment was all of the hard parts of adoption right when I was meeting my girls for the first time and being excited as a new mom. There's just no way to describe the intersection of emotions.

They both continued to warm up more and more, and when grandma suggested V bring us a book to read, she went over to the shelf and handed me "Are you My Mother?" I am not a huge believer in signs, but it was all I could do to hold it together as everything in this little girl was asking me the same question with her smiling eyes and nervous dimple.

While I read the book over and over again, Mr. Ladd set up our next visit and exchanged numbers with grandma. V sang us a few more songs, and Grandma joked about how V danced like a white girl. Mr. Ladd played catch with a football for a while with J and one of their older brothers. When we left, J climbed up my legs for a hug, and V gently patted our arms as she hugged us goodbye. We promised we'd come visit them the next day and as we drove away, the tears I had been holding back flowed hard. I couldn't believe how beautiful they were, all of them. I couldn't believe how welcoming their grandmother had been in one of the hardest times of her life. I didn't understand how we could be so lucky, so blessed.

We were starving because we had been too nervous to eat anything beforehand, and we were too fired up to go home yet, so we ate at the same restaurant we we had after each of our adoption training classes months before and cried between ordering food and beer. It was a gorgeous night, and I don't think we'd ever felt more grateful or unable to believe this was actually our life, and that we had just met our daughters.

How I Met My Daughters Part 4: Bonus Family

V and J are the youngest of 6 siblings who were all placed in adoptive homes within our agency. So, we have them, their older sisters are in another family, older brothers in another, and all 3 families are committed to keeping the siblings in very close contact and supporting each other as family.

It's a really strange thing to meet your kids' siblings' future parents. Then to meet them all at the same time before any of you have actually met said kids is even more surreal. Our agency provided us all with tickets to the Phoenix Zoo to just spend the day walking around and getting to know each other. I was thankful for the giraffes and snakes to break the ice, we took our first awkward family photo, and it turned out to be a lovely beginning.

Our bonus family or adoption in-laws as we like to refer to them is one of the things that is unique about our situation. This is definitely not without its' challenges but the benefits for us and our girls greatly outweigh those...

Kids maintain strong birth family ties The most important benefit is obviously all the kids being able to grow up together and know each other as family. As I've mentioned before adoption is born out of trauma, and this hopes to minimize some of that. While it is certainly a loss to them to not be living under the same roof, they know they will see each other and celebrate birthdays and holidays together and grow up as family. They have not lost contact or the relationship.

People who get it. We are quite literally in the same boat. Adoption can be very isolating, since so much is confidential, and every case is different. But our kids are all on the same case so we're dealing with the same case worker, court decisions, etc. Our kids all have the same birth family and history and it is so great to have each other as a resource. We are also not parents through the most conventional means so often don't have certain things in common with other parents. We don't have birth stories to tell, or breastfeeding war stories to exchange. It's nice to have a built-in network of parents just like us.

Big family (but part-time)
One of the most fun parts of having this big wacky family is the big family feel and our kids having lots of siblings, but we only have to raise two of them. We try to get together at least once a month and between everybody's birthdays and holidays, we have most months covered. We had everyone at our house for Easter, and it was so great to have a full house of kids and chaos, and then equally great to be able to send most of them home. Best of both worlds.

The last and final installment about meeting our girls for the first time on Friday!  - How I Met My Daughters Part 5: There You Are

To catch up...

How I Met My Daughters Part 3: Waiting & IKEA

How I Met My Daughters Part 2: Chosen

How I Met My Daughters Part 1: Red Filed

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