Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Official


Tomorrow it becomes official.  I stand before a judge, side by side with Daddy, and promise to love and care for you for the rest of my life.  You get a new birth certificate that says I’m your mommy, and a social security number that will make my life so much easier when filing next year’s taxes.  It will be the first “Redfield Family Day” of many more to come.   I don’t know how we’ll celebrate February 28 in future years, but for tomorrow it will probably include lots of singing and dancing and picture-taking and tears of joy.  And a celebratory latte.  Or glass of wine.  Or both.  Yes, tomorrow is a big, beautiful deal.  Tomorrow, your adoption is finalized.  Legal, permanent, indisputable.  It’s the day that every adoptive family dreams about during the all the darker days of the process. 

But for today, I need you to know that I love you so, so much without any of that.  I don’t need a birth certificate with my name on it for my love for you to be official.  I don’t need to promise a judge that I will give you all you need… my heart made that promise the moment I first laid eyes on you.   You have been officially mine for months now, and I have loved every minute of it.

That’s not to say it happened overnight.  Our love has grown over these months together.  And with it, although a little more slowly, the feeling of “officiality.”

I loved you the moment I first heard of you last April.  I loved you as the sweet, helpless baby with a beautiful name and a beautiful story, waiting for your forever family.  But everyone loves a baby.  Everyone loves a beautiful adoption story.  My love for you wasn’t anything special, and it didn’t mean you were mine yet.

Two weeks later things got a little more serious.  We were chosen to be your parents!  My love for you grew and grew as I let my guard down a little and began to imagine an actual life with you.  I went shopping for dresses and headbands and, for the first time in my life, I said “no” to a gift receipt.  The saleslady thought I was crazy as I grinned from ear to ear and my eyes started to well up.  But that little moment was a gift from the Lord and a gift from you that I will never forget.  And I loved you for it.  I paid for the poufy pink dress: it was mine.  But you weren’t mine yet. 
 
The dress that made me cry in Target :)
I met you on Memorial Day.  I was shaking the first moment I held you.  We took “The Picture” of the greatest of moment of my life.  I am trying so hard not to cry, it looks like I am mad.  You’re frowning, too, but you’ve just woken up from a nap and been handed to a stranger.  You probably ARE mad.  I took notes about your schedule and your favorites and every little detail I could possibly soak up.  I signed a piece of paper that made me a guardian, free to take you home and begin my life with you, free to use my last name when visiting doctors, adding you to our insurance, and sending out Christmas cards.  I held you close to me and smelled that sweet baby smell and loved more than I ever knew my heart could love.  But you still didn’t know me at all, and I didn’t know you.  You really weren’t mine.

The first time I held you
Our first three months at home were an endless parade of family visits and doctor appointments.  Sometimes it was all just a little too much for you, and you learned to snuggle in close to me and bury your face in my neck, a little deeper with each passing day.  Your life had been turned upside down, but you were slowly learning that this Mommy would always be there for you.  Meanwhile, this Mommy learned how to function on half the hours of sleep, showers, and workouts that my previous life had so easily accommodated.  It was all a lot for me to take, too, but I learned that watching you sleep could take my breath away and make it all better.  I whispered to you how much I loved you and how I would take care of you for as long as “they” would let me.  You still weren’t “mine” to make promises of forever.  I still feared that somehow it was all too perfect, and someday you would be taken away from me.

In September, little moments began to “feel” official.  You had been home with us for three months.  We had seen highs and lows, triumphs and firsts and utter, mind-numbing frustration.  It felt official when “poop” shot to the top my list of Frequent Conversation Topics.  It felt official when doctors that didn’t know my name called me “Mom.” “How are you doing, Mom?” “Take a seat here, Mom.”  It felt official when I stopped blow-drying my hair EVER.  1) because the extra time it took to get you in a coat, mittens, hat, boots, and then mittens again did not allow me time to dry my hair.  2) because you needed my blow-dryer for the full-body “spa treatment” you love after every bath, and I was sick of always carrying it up and down the stairs, so I started leaving it upstairs in your bathroom. 
 
Happy girl because you're about to get your "spa treatment"!
At some point in the late fall or early winter, I dropped you off at daycare and realized, walking back to my car, that I no longer felt like I was “borrowing” someone else’s life, lucky enough to live in it for a short time.  This was actually my life.  You WOULD BE a permanent part of it.  This was forever.  It felt official - all of it, not just passing moments.  And the most beautiful thing happened along with that: a guard went down that I hadn’t even realized was still up.  You were NOT going to be taken away from me, and I was free to love you with all my heart.  You WERE mine.

Life made you mine.  Time made you mine.  Love made you mine.

God made you mine.

All this time that you were not “officially” mine, a beautiful thing was happening.  God was making you to FEEL like mine more and more each day.  So now when I think about making it “official” tomorrow, it’s not a doubtful, scary, “no-turning-back-now” kind of day.  Instead it’s a celebrating, totally perfect, “of-course-this-is-the-next-step” kind of day.  It’s a lot like the day I married your Daddy.  I walked down the aisle confident and full of love, just like I will walk into the courtroom tomorrow.  I signed the marriage certificate as a mere formality, so I could change my name, and tomorrow I will do the same for you.  You don’t marry someone or finalize an adoption to “make” yourself love them.  You do it because you already love them so much, your heart is about to burst.
 

Sleep tight tonight, precious girl.  Tomorrow you will become mine.  You’ll hear strange voices and cameras clicking and you’ll feel tears on Mommy’s cheeks.  People will call you “Elizabeth” a whole bunch of times instead of “Libby.” A lot will be different and strange tomorrow.  But don’t worry, Pumpkin.   I will love you just as much as I do today.  You will feel my face with your hands and pull my hair and we’ll keep practicing “Mommy kisses, Libby kisses” over and over again. 

It will just be “official.”

Thursday, February 7, 2013

More of the Same

The other day I was sitting on the couch with Libby after her morning milk.  Lately she’s been pretty cuddly in the morning, so after milk she kneels in my lap facing me, snuggling her little face deep into my shoulder.  We rock side to side, we sing a little, we whisper about all the tasks of the day ahead… it’s such a little treat for me.  Coffee in the right hand, Libby on the left shoulder, and inevitably something I recorded HGTV is on in the background. 
 
I’m quite obsessed.  I never knew we had HGTV.  We did a major DirecTV downgrade after our first year and lost all the “good” channels.  We don’t even have ESPN.  But as it turns out, we’ve had HGTV all along.  I didn’t make this amazing discovery until I was boooooooored on New Year’s Day 2013, the DVR was empty and for once in my life I was actually channel surfing.  VERY Happy Moment.
 
Aaaaanyway, back to our morning.  She was just kneeling there, cuddled into me, making all her funny tongue-clicking and bubble-blowing noises.  The house was quiet; Tim was not home from his morning run yet and both dogs were passed out at my feet, warm in front of the fire.  The fresh snow we got overnight was beginning to sparkle in the pink glow of an early winter morning.  The Property Brothers (recorded sometime in the wee hours of the night) were about to do a big reveal.  And I was giddy in the knowledge that my “Monday Chore” (laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away all in one day) was well underway, as I had finally been smart enough to sort and even start washing the night before.  Everything felt so cozy and wonderful.  Does it get any better than this?
 
Yup, it does.  Suddenly she was ready to start her day.  She stretches her little arms out to the side, then presses them against my chest, pops up with a HUGE grin on her face, and starts bobbing that little head from side to side.  “Let’s go, Mom! Cuddle time is done!”
 
I’m a happy, happy Mama today.  I’m a happy Mama most days, actually.  In the past, when my blog dropped off completely for the better part of two months, it was not a good sign.  It meant there was no news to share, or I was in a rough state of mind – back then, “more of the same” was not a good thing.  But since Libby came on the scene, "more of the same" is definitely a good thing.
 
I’ve not written since mid-December, because life has been pretty simple, but simply wonderful.  A week before Christmas, our daycare arrangement fell through, which accelerated my already-almost-there decision to stay at home full-time with Libby.  After a couple weeks of generous help from church members, I finished out my three-day-a-week schedule and began my new routine the first week of January.  I work only on Fridays, which Tim and Libby enjoy as “Daddy Day.” The rest of the week, I “attempt” to keep the house clean, catch up on the endless list of paperwork and projects that were so easily shoved off when I went back to work in July, and, most importantly, give Libby the extra work she needs at home to support all the work we’re doing in therapy on motor skills and general development.
 
While it is nice to have the laundry back on a regular schedule and to be crossing things off The List, my favorite part of being home is enjoying those little, “more of the same” moments.  Singing “Wheels on the Bus” over and over and over to get a laugh when the babies on the bus go “wah, wah, wah.” Wide-eyed, hungry hubby asking, “Are those biscuits from scratch?” (Yes, they were, and quite delicious, but can you really use the term “from scratch” when they’re only three ingredients?) And best of all, those morning cuddles on the couch.  Keep that "more of the same" coming, yes please, if those cuddles are a part of it.
 
So that’s my long overdue-update; my news is that there’s no news.  And I love it that way.
 
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Well, I suppose I can’t say “NO” news, we have had some exciting things happen around there. If you haven’t caught up with us through facebook lately, here are some fun updates from December and January.
 
 
First of all, Libby's first Christmas with us! It was so precious.  Grandma and Grandpa Redfield came to join in the fun.  Of course, Tim and I have so much going on during the Christmas services so it was really nice to have them to help with her.  She was such a doll all dressed up!
 
 
 
Shortly after Christmas, I took advantage of my new work schedule and took Libby up north to my parents' house for a few days.  It was tough to leave Daddy and our puppies at home alone, especially because we would be gone for my birthday, BUT I got to go to the Packer-Viking playoff game with my dad and cousin, AND I was in the right place at the right time for the arrival of our new niece, Reagan Elise.  She was born January 7th, on my 30th birthday, and Libby and I got to visit her just a few hours "new" (and every day thereafter until we had to go home :)
 

 
Back up north for Reagan's baptism on January 26, and this time Tim got to come with us and use some vacation time.  We enjoyed baby snuggles, lots of snow to play in, and a relaxing five days catching up with family.  Libby really loves napping with Grandpa :)
 


I got outside for some beautiful winter photos, both at home and on vacation.  I love winter so much!



Libby dearest has been cutting FOUR molars all at once for the past few weeks.  Poor thing.  She's been really cuddly (which I guess I don't mind) and just kind of mellow and blah! In the evening the teeth really seem to bother her and we just feel so, so sad for her.  She's sleeping lots and lots and is extra-sensitive to loud noise and strange environments. Can't wait until these stinking teeth finish coming through and we can enjoy this smile more often!