Big Boy

Five Months

Here we are at a little past the five month mark. It has been a couple of months since I have posted...but given that I am working a lot to promote Crumbylove and teaching and taking care of the baby, I find little time left. I do facebook a little, just to keep up with everyone else.
Chase is big and is starting to talk a little. He weighs about 20 pounds and just keeps getting bigger.
We have gotten him out of his swing which he loves, into a jumper and he like sit, but we are careful not to overdue it for him. We are working on his tummy time and getting him to sit up...all milestones that I hope he continues t progress towards. He is a happy laid back baby...and is eating 2x a day plus his bottles. He loves to eat!
It is fun to watch him, and we are amazed with every new thing he does.

I start a new job at the beginning of November and I am thankful that I was chosen. It is an exclusive club and the members expect a lot in the way of attention and customer service, and I hope to be able to provide them with that, plus do a good job teaching. I started a new certification process for a stretching program, called Ki-Hara. They are based here in Florida and have been stretching Dara Torres (the very successful Olympic swimmer) and it is something different...It is stretching with applied resistance, and it is very challenging and exciting. I have taken Level One and hope to get through all five levels! It will take me some time, and I am thankful that my husband is such a big help with Chase. He adores him, and loves to spend time with him. So on those weekend's when I have class, he steps up!

The economy is tanking and for the first time, I am actually scared. Scared for everyone. We are definitely being more careful about what we spend, where we go, and will continue to do so. With diapers and formula I am getting coupons, and well, every little bit helps.

Ii am hopeful that the economy and everyone in it turns the corner soon. It would make for a great 2010, and if unemployment started to drop and people had more confidence. Lets all collectively keep our fingers crossed.

BIG BOY

Three Months

Well it is hard to believe that three months has passed since we brought Chase home from the hospital. It has been a transition of sorts, going from being childless, to being responsible for a tiny infant. Overwhelmed (but grateful) is one word to accurately decribe the feelings that have been flowing through me, and it is just taking time for me to adjust.

Chase is a good baby, peppered with bouts of restlessness and unquenchable hunger. He is two month's in the phote above, and I head meant to update this sooner, but well,,,I'm either exhausted or busy. I am still working a few hours a week , both teaching Pilates and baking, so that takes up whatever free time I have after the baby.

My mother who is very ill , drove down from North Carolina to see the baby and spend a week. She is limited in what she can do, so us leaving her with the baby was not an option. It sometimes felt like I had two babies , since she is on oxygen and is so slow getting herself together. Most days we left the baby with Daddy and headed out. She especially liked the Deli we have close by , reminding her of all the NY food she cannot find close to her home in North Carolina.

I am happy she made the effort to come see us, even though we would like to get up to see my brother and his family for a holiday this year. Hopefully it works out and we are able to travel.

This has been thebusiest three months of my life but I am drinking it all in. Savoring each moment with the little guy. He is just too cute!

Lucky Me

I have to say I have had the great opportunity to have had contact with some wonderful people through this blog. The comments that most have left are wonderfully uplifting, supportive and generous.

Chase is thriving, and he is a wonder. I am lucky. I do say lucky, given that all we had been through before had been so bad, that I had all but given up.
I am enjoying my time with him, getting to know him, and marking his milestones. I'm waiting for his first laugh. I love to laugh so that will be a great day. I will be his chief entertainer for a while so I am brushing up on my funny.

He is big and gaining weight and loves to eat. I wish he was waiting a little longer between feedings thus allowing me to get a little more rest, but his Dad is stepping in when I need it, and he has been great.

He has lost a little of the peach fuzz that adorned his head, and I eagerly await it's replacement. Will it be light or dark? Curly or straight? Will his eyes stay the color they are or darken more? Each day I scan him for changes, and noted today he looks a little like Buddha. Chubby and smiling.

Every day he is here is better than the day before, and it is true that you don't realize the capacity in which your life is changed, simply by the introduction of another human into it, until your world is turned upside down in one day.

Why is it....

That some of the most religous people I know, are the ones who:

May go to church, but talk about people behind their backs

Spend the majority of their time quoting "What a sin?" when they are sinning all the time.

Foster bad feelings

Pass judgement

Lie, Cheat and Steal

And many other things, that are annoying. I'm not perfect, but if you are going to tout yourself as the second coming, and cram religon down my throat, the question remains:

"Shouldn't you at least practice what you preach?"

Update

Well, with numerous visitors strolling through our doors lately perhaps the nicest one for me was my sister coming out from California for a week.It was unexpected and so appreciated.

I love her and miss her, and when they moved to California we drifted apart a bit, and it has been maddening trying to keep up and catch up all these years. Her kids are grown (almost), and I so cherished this time with her. We did the usual baby stuff, but she went above and beyond helping at night, while my husband and I were trying to catch up on sleep! I have a feeling that I'll be playing catch up for a very long time!

Saying goodbye to her at the airport was very hard...I don't cry easily but I wanted to bawl my eyes out and yell, "Don't leave me!"

Sad, that she is not closer. It was my best compliment yet when she said I was doing a great job. From a pro that means everything!

Baby Love

Beautiful Boy

It's late. As I hold Chase, swaddled tight in a baby blue receiving blanket, I stare. His eyelashes faint blond, are starting to sprout, his cheeks pink and full ,and his chest rises and falls in a rhythmic cadence. Occasionally he twitches , then smiles, then gets back to the business of sleeping.

He is a wonder. I think a lot about him while he is sleeping in my arms.

Hoping that in my ability to mother I will let him be himself. That I will teach him, but not be demanding. That I will be able to foster his interest, consistently so that he will know the joy and comfort of routine and responsibility.

That I hope to guide him to be kind and loving to all things, including animals. ( Cause to me, if you are not an animal lover, sorry I don't trust you!) That he will know that in life to be successful is not dependant on money or materialistic things, and having those things is an innate gift, not a given.

To show him that is always better to give than receive, and that the pleasures of small things, playing outside, going to the beach, the fascination of the outdoors and people and life is much better than sitting in front of the TV.

I'd love him to live without fear or regret and that in living, learning to confront issues head on and deal with mistakes without faltering shows the true measure of a man. And that in confronting, or handing matters, doesn't have to be sticky or unpleasant if handled correctly. I will teach him to love and respect everyone, in the same manner in which he hopes to be treated.

And I will let him know that is OK to be afraid, and unsure. And that we don't worry about things that we cannot control or change, or worry about the future.

For me mothering is new. I have watched many of my peers become mothers. Some good, some not. I have watched with great detail my own mother and mothers around me, and out of all of them, my mother did the best. She is always there in the background. She steps to the forefront when needed, but is not overbearing and does not inject her presence unless it is asked for.
She ruled with an iron fist at home, and while sometimes she was scary, it was necessary. All three of us , never got into trouble. We don't lie, cheat or have personality issues. Not to say that we are perfect. We aren't. But so many of my friends mothers simply didn't care, or weren't there, or were weak. Parents cannot be weak! So I hope to be that kind of mother. I grew up loving life. Looking for challenges and trying to better myself. I hope I can keep that up.

After all the trials and tribulations the last eight years, it was had not to become cynical. Dealing with schemers and liars and people solely taking advantage of the system because they know they can, truly tested my faith in humanity. But as I sit and look at him and marvel at the joy of him .. he is ours. It was luck. I know that. After all he was originally intended to be placed with another family, who got a call about another baby across the country. He came early...thus making him available. Why we were chosen, I don't know exactly. But I am glad we were.

He has given life a new meaning. And as cliched as it sounds, it makes me hopeful for the future.

I will give him the foundation for which he builds his life.

Mommy?

A title that I thought I would never own, bestowed upon me hastily, that in that time, I had little time mysef to reflect.

My own mother is ill and cannot travel to see the baby. But I want her here. I would have loved to have her guiding me, empowering me. Honestly, I don't think my own mother wanted children. She did what was expected. She was a good mother, albeit a little scary at times, which was good I think. It kept us in check, and I always had a healthy fear of her. But after getting home, realizing that things would never be the same, I felt what many mother's probably feel. The innate ability to protect and to take care . Putting him first is my priority now.

I still don't feel like a Mother. But I am working on instinct, and I am good with him. I have waited so long for the little moments, and I can't wait to replicate some of what my mother gave me. A love of books from being read to. A strong sense of self. And the ability to be compassionate for all things.

I sit holding him, and smell his sweet smell, and talk to him, like he is old enough to understand.

The dialogue is starting now.

How he came to us, the story of his birthmother, the chase of a baby.

He will know everything, as that is his right. I do not fear him wanting to find his first mother at some point. I expect it. And if he so chooses, I will guide him every step of the way in his search, bringing to close the circle of life, that finally brought me my son.

Chase Braden

Rounding out the Adoption Event

The adoption that took place three weeks ago, still has to be finalized. Papers were signed but the adoption hearing, takes place about four months, after the fact. So while we ready for that, let me back up a bit and recall the many adventures I had while the process took place.

Essentially my husband and I have only been separated for the last 16 years, once or twice. So going to a strange town, and then staying there by myself, was a gigantic leap of faith for me.

I familiarized myself with the hospital setting (even tried to get into use the employee gym!) and got to know the nursing staff quite well. I was lucky enough to stay at the Ronald McDonald House right on hospital grounds. It was well equipped and run solely by volunteers. They provided a clean room and bed for ten dollars a night in exchange for light chores. I have to admit I did miss a TV in the room, but after a few days I was so tired, it didn't matter. I was able to walk to and from the hospital , and if the weather was bad, or it was late, hospital security ferried me back and forth. Doing chores after being in the NICU all day was really the last thing I wanted to do, but I tried to do it quickly and efficiently.

(Damn the person to hell who kept messing up the inside of the microwave!)

The people for the most part who volunteered there were helpful and nice, one even helping me get my new babies car seat in the car. With no prior experience, the car seat thing became a whole other issue for me. But I have to say, if we are getting housing near a hospital for free, pick up after your damn self! Some people are just amazing. Leaving food out to spoil, (all donated by the way) all over the counter, dishes in the sink...I shudder to think what the inside of their house must look like! Every night another business or group donated dinner, which was not just sandwiches. The food ranged from Bar B Q to Soup to full three course meals. Ironically, I rarely ate there, not because I didn't want to, I was always in a rush to get back to the hospital.

Readying to leave by 2:30 the staff kept me waiting till 4:30pm, which annoyed me. Reason? There was a delivery. Ummm, does every doctor on staff have to respond to a delivery? Apparantly , yes.

The hospital, while they do a car seat test, for the length of your drive, will not help you secure the baby in any way after leaving the hospital. They hand you the baby and you place him in the restraint. Not thinking ahead and really we had little time to work on it, as I tried to get the car seat in an out, I was approached by a homeless man.

South Florida has an abundance of homeless, and he came right up to me and asked me for money. Normally, I do give a few dollars. But that day, after having been at the hospital for ten days by myself, and struggling with the enormity of the adoption and the god forsaken car seat, I said"I'm sorry. I just adopted a baby and I don't have any money left." Not far from the truth actually. He turned and left, and left me there with the car seat.

My days were long in the NICU. I usually got there a little after 8 am, just as the shift changed. I would sit next to the isolet, occasionally peering in, and then readying myself to do the temperature, and changing/feeding. He was a good baby from the beginning. Never crying too much. He would fuss a bit, but for the most part, he seemed content.

After having been at the hospital for about a week, I got in the car and headed home for the weekend. I had cake to make and a few things to ready for my return trip home. I didn't want to leave him. And couldn't wait to get back to him. As I traveled across the state, I suppose I was speeding. yes, I know I was speeding but couldn't help it.

I saw the lights and the patrol car, and could not believe I was getting pulled over. In all my years of driving (30 +)I have never gotten a speeding ticket! Till that day... I tried to explain that I was headed back to a hospital where my infant son was, but he did not care. He actually pulled me over after I had passed someone, so technically I didn't think it was fair. But I wasn't about to fight with him. I find that cops in general have little humor during a traffic stop, and the Florida kind are just more humor less than the average. Sorry. I mean while you are pulling me over would it kill you to be pleasant? I guess they have to assume that every stop is a potential problem. But, it would have been nice to have someone who could have understood my driving fast to get back to my son.

A whole other myriad of problems cropped up, during my stay. My car battery died three times. Thankfully I had Triple AAA and they came out and changed the battery. And aside from my son not being in the car seat properly, as I was driving home by myself with the baby, I realized that my husband should have been with me. I drove for about 40 minutes, and pulled over. Thankfully I stopped when I did. The baby was slumped over in the car seat, just too little to fit in properly. I bolstered him up with diapers and blankets, and was able to secure him a bit better, but I really wanted to cry. I was so tired. Tired from the last eight years of hell, of the hospital, of everything. Except the baby.

As I drove, I headed into what was potentially the worst storm I have ever driven in. Thunder, lightning and dark skies, enveloped the car as I headed East. Now I really wanted to cry. I kept thinking , how am I going to drive in this? I couldn't see..the rain was pelting the car sideways and the lighting was fierce. I thought, "Can I call 911?" "What do I do? "Where do I pull over?" And then I laughed, to myself. Because I knew if I called 911 crying, that I couldn't drive my newborn son in a rainstorm, that the call would end up on CNN an I would never live it down.

So I ventured on. Going slow with my hazard lights on , stopping when I needed to. It took over five hours, but we made it.

Pulling into the driveway. I felt empowered. After the last eight years.Getting to where we are now?I know I can do anything.

A Suprise and then a Miracle..

As my last post stated, I had been in search of a miracle. No not the lottery although that would be nice, and I'd love to win. I wasn't looking for something religous, because here in South Florida I can find that on any street corner. People praying and overflowing with gods words, here in god's country..not that I have anything against it, I just dont want it crammed down my throat 24/7. My feelings and spiritual enlightening come from a place, that doesn't necessarily come from a church or from people talking about it, obsessing about it, or trying to convince me otherwise.

After my conversation with the lawyer a week or two passed without any confirmation of the intended birth mother situation. I had again, started to lay those hopes and dreams aside and focus on what my life might be without a child. After all I had gone this long, without one.

The days passed and on Wednesday afternoon I received a call at the Chicken Shop . It was our lawyer. She needed to speak asap and was I in a private place?

I took the phone into the restroom where she began to tell me that a baby boy had been born that morning in *******, FL. Did we want him? I went blank, and then said "Let me talk to David" She rattled off some health information and information regarding the mother, and I hung up stunned. Now? Right now a baby? I asked my husband to come sit at the table.

"The lawyer called. There is a baby. It is a boy and he was born this morning. We would have to be there Friday, and someone has to stay three weeks. He is the NICU. Born at 33 weeks. Do we want him? "We both stareda t each other in disbelief.

We went over logistics. Who could stay? Who would run the business back home? It was decided we would go to the lawyer the next morning with our decision. As we thought about it, mulled it over..it was shocking that after chasing something for so long, it was being handed to us overnight.

I called the birth mother that evening and we had a very nice, candid conversation She was not unlike the other birth moms, wounded, low self esteem, and no hope for the future. She wanted to do the right thing for him, to give him every opportunity that she herself could not. I thanked her, asked her if she needed anything. She declined anything and just said "Love him, and let him know that I loved him too. "

We received an email from the lawyer with his picture sent via the birth mom in the hospital. He was tiny, maybe four pounds, and was adorable. We were hooked from the moment we saw him.

We made plans to go to the hospital on Friday which was a few hours away. On our way, we talked about many things. The failing economy, the weather, would make it on time, and we struggled to stay positive. This was after all, a placement where she still could change her mind. As we neared the facility, my husband was convinced that it would not happen. We parked the car and nervously held each others hands as we entered the hospital. He ran to the rest room, and then the phone rang. On the other end, I could hear the social workers voice.

"Shes signing right now, stay where you are I'll come and get you". I smiled as I put the phone down. Just then my husband walked out of the rest room. He looked at me, and I said"She signed them". He got weak in the knees and went ghost white. I thought for a moment that he would pass out, but he steadied himself on the wall, and took a deep breath.

One journey over. Another new one beginning.

As we went upstairs to meet the birth mom, we were in shock, disbelief. I saw her standing in the waiting room. She was waiting to meet us. She surveyed my husband and I both carefully and then reached out to hug me.

Pulling back, she said"Do you want to meet your son? " Entering the NICU is a process, and after checking in, and getting clearance, we scrubbed down much in the way a surgeon would before an operation.

I went into the NICU with her leading the way. We came upon a small incubator, and the little infant laying inside was pink , and calm. I peered in. I turned to her and thanked her. She said "Good luck with him", and walked out to get my husband.

My husband came slowly down the isle and was looking from side to side. The noise level inside a NICU is palpable, overwhelming at first. He reached where I was standing and we both just looked into the isolet.

After years of disappointment and despair, we had come full circle.

Staring at our little boy...we couldn't help but think, that maybe in order for us to get what we truly wanted, we had to lose almost everything else in the process.

May 13, 2009 our son was born, and on May 15, 2009 he became ours.

We are forever grateful.

Arthritis and the Miracle

My arthritis is back.

Were like old friends now, and my fear of being alone has subsided because I always know I'll have it beside me every step of the way. I have to say it has enlightened me to live a more productive life when I can, getting a glimpse into my older years if you will, and while they are not pretty, it does make you slow down and see things from a different angle.

Funny how when you are wishing on a miracle ( which I was doing last week on Wednesday) the phone rang. It was the lawyer, asking me how we have been, blah, blah, blah. Then comes the speech ..

"We have this birthmother situation".

Ok, I am using the term Birthmother again, but too bad.

Why do they call it a situation? Isn't it a total disregard for taking responsibility for oneself? Whatever.

So there is a birth mother situation, and I'm listening, and the whole time I'm thinking to myself. I just stopped thinking about all of this. I just turned it off, and put it to bed, and here it is back again.
"She is such a great girl" Ummm, maybe, but I really don't care . Why do they think if they tell me how great she is that that will make me want to proceed? It does not. In fact it makes me want to pull my hair out and run screaming in the opposite direction.

So I am underwhelmed. That was Wednesday. Saturday another lawyer's office called and they too have a "situation". Seems to be going around. This one I'm not at all interested in. Older couple, still together , not working , need money and they are saying they are giving a baby up, and I hope they follow through, but it won't be me on the other end. We already went through something like that, and if a couple is still together I don't care what they say, the inclination is going to be to keep the baby. Plus they are only eight weeks into the pregnancy and I think are just looking for a meal ticket.

I just feel nothing. Things have been so hard with the new business, it is exhausting and right now I cannot imagine making it more difficult. I'm not sure what is happening given that I have not heard back from the lawyer.

I'm sure they'll call when they want money.

U.S. Polo and the Ponies

My heart aches fort he 21 horses that died a week or so ago, in Wellington , Fl not far from where we are. A human error, it was senseless, and makes you stop and think.

We decided to go to the last Polo match of the season, last Sunday. I was more than excited, and then even doubly s when a customer gave us tickets.

Staring out at Jen and Kevin's house, we had a brunch of Champagne and a nectar of some kind ( a Bellini perhaps? ) and I made pork roll and cheese sandwiches for my friends ( A NJ delicacy)who had never had them, and we relaxed and chatted about our excitement to go to the match.

As we arrived, you could hear the hooves pounding the sod, you could hear yelling and chatter, and the horses snorts and heavy breath from the activity. The sky was a bright blue, the sod so green, and the air was perfect. Not too hot, the sun was out and shining, but there was a lovely breeze blowing creating the perfect day.

We sat and watched the earlier match at 11:00, and when each chukker (akin to a inning) was over , they riders and their ponies would leave the field and everyone would step gingerly on the sod and then go around and pounce on the divits that they horses hooves had created in the grass. As we stomped divits across the field we came across a rider, the one woman in the pack. She was riding a dark brown pony, and she seemed comfortable in her own skin on the horse and on the field.

The horn blows signaling a return to play and we hurriedly crossed the field to the car where we were tailgating.

Watching people eat and drink and relax watching one of the most majestic sports to me was just heaven. My husband who fell asleep in the back of our friends SUV thought less so.

The finals began at 3:00 with a parade of stunning events: skydivers who looked so thoroughly off their mark that I thought they would be landing in the field down the street, jet airplanes, that looked military in nature but I'm not sure where they came from, and the pomp and circumstance that is Palm Beach. Money and fancy cars and ladies with breasts abounding. Also there were a lot of older gents with younger gals, the norm for this area but to me it is still the creepiest thing I have seen.

The "haves" as we called them, had little tents spread out, and champagne flowed from glass to glass, and the ladies were polished and wearing big brimmed hats. The men dapper in their suits and bow ties, this was old money from Palm Beach.

It was interesting to people watch, and the match was quicker and more intense than the one we had previously watched.

The day was glorious.

When I was younger I wanted to be a jockey. And as I watched the ponies I couldnt help but feel a twinge of what could have been. I'm small , I'm strong and I think I could have been a good one.

Been a While

Well, weeks have passed since I have written, so I thought I would give a little time and attention to the blog that I so mothered and nurtured a long the way.

Things have slowed on the baby front, and I have given up. I'm not pursuing it anymore, but that is not to say my husband isn't. My take on the whole thing has always been one of, if it was meant to happen it would, and it just hasn't. I'm tired of the chase. I'm tired of spending money, and I'm tired of the emotional rollercoaster.

To say that I am in an easy part of my life would be a lie and I feel that there are many important decisions to be made over the next few months. When I look at life as a one shot deal, I'm not willing to compromise. I don't apologize for who I am at my age, and I am honest about my journey.

I have not been feeling well, with my RA rearing its ugly head, and my fear has always been that I will eventually be alone and be sick and unable to care for myself. An ugly dream for sure that I hope does not come true.

On top of which it has rendered me useless. I cannot walk, and had to get myself to the Dr and he drew 4 syringes of fluid out of the knee, and it was incredibly painful. Then I had an injection of medicine, and Prednisone and Darvocet.

So I have been laid up on the couch most of the day which makes all the animals happy, but me and my husband miserable.

Most people, when they think of RA, don't realize how debilitating it can be. Things can be fine, and then it swoops in and changes your plans, and smacks you between the eyes, and then I remember , I'm limited in what I can do.

So, I wait. To feel better. And hopefully it comes sooner than later. The one upside is that I have no appetite, and I got my disabled parking tag. ( To be used at discretionary times of course) As the nurse said "If you are feeling fine, don't use it to go sprinting into a store!". Well said.

After having been a patient there for four years, of which two I neglected to go, and then got yelled at because I had waited too long in between visits) The meds I am on are potent, and apparently I need to have my liver checked. Go figure!

She entered the exam room to prep for the procedure and I felt bad because I can never remember her name! Karen, Candy..I don't know. She is probably 75 and wears fuchsia lipstick, (quite a look let me tell you) , she found me crying. I don't know why. People don't understand the illness, and some days I am fine, that is the paradox. And then the next day I am not and they don't understand. She was very comforting, putting her hand on mine, and saying in a motherly way that everything would be ok. In lieu of my own mother, who mostl ikely would not do that anyway, it was very nice to feel something from someone.

To feel this bad at such a young age, it makes me want to scream and shake people when they sit around and eat, and complain and are fucking lazy, because they should be MOVING. All I would like to do at my age, is move freely without it in the back of my head that I could have a flareup. But I cannot.

Money comes and goes
Friends come and go
We love our family but don't always like them
But when you have your health you have EVERYTHING.

Friend or Foe?

I have always for the most part, had a lot of men friends. I guess because of my early years in the gym, being completely surrounded by men, it was an easy and natural choice, to hang out with the other side so to speak.

Sure I had a few women friends along the way, I would meet usually at work, and we would get close, but not too close. There have been a group of women I have let into my life. I can count on my hand the meaningful and satisfying relationships that have endured the test of time. And there have been two relationships I hold dear, that have lasted a lifetime. One I have known for 46 years, and the other probably for 36 or so years, each capturing a part of my life and my soul and I cherish the time I spent with both of them.

Some other friends whom I have reconnected with, and missed terribly while we were lost to one another, Peggy, Sandra, and some that I cannot locate...remain close to me, and I laugh out loud when I think of time spent with them.

I know I am not an easy person sometimes. I am very direct and to the point, and sometimes that makes people uncomfortable. So the friends I have, know that I will speak my mind, and they deal with it accordingly.

There are another segment of friends that I met mostly at work, and sometimes it can be months that I don't hear anything, yet I am always happy to get an email or a call from them. I don't need the constant day to day attention, but it is nice to know they are there, and when we need one another we gravitate back to each other.

But what happens, when one still wants to be friends and the other does not. It happened to me once in my lifetime, maybe twice, leaving me dumbfounded. I didn't understand it, until recently when I did the exact same thing to someone who had grown very close to me. I had an epiphany, as I walked away, nary a worked the the woman, who was left to wonder what happened. I never explained it, just went MIA for the last six months until she began to email me, after running into a few people I had seen. To be honest. I did miss her. And I was always thinking of her in some way ...but i had so much going on here , in my own little world, that I guess I just didn't have enough to go around. Things happened, things were said, and both sides were hurt. But it was her determination to not lose the friendship that stirred me. She apologized over and over, and I am hoping we can make amends. I apologized for hurting her, something I had not done , and to be honest I was just too tired to hold onto the anger anymore. I have had a lot of anger running through these veins, and I'm done. I cannot be angry, all the time. So I'm letting it go. Opening a window and letting it out to dissipate or attach itself to someone else. Whats the saying? "Time heals all wounds?"

If I can forgive my father, certainly I can forgive a friend.

News Break

I am on a roll.

I have called the Palm Beach Post, and I have written Good Morning America regarding our adoption story. I explained our experience in detail first, to a woman editor who deemed the story newsworthy. She then passed me on to an older gentleman ( and I use the word loosely) and he seemed to be on the fence.

I made the connection between our surrogacy and the use of fertility clinics and egg donors and how that would tie into the Natalie Sulomon story..and the only good out of that woman having eight babies, will be the crackdown on fertility doctors and clinics alike. I told him of the adoption agency, using our money and not putting it in escrow. I explained the extortion and ridiculous things we have been through in order to get a baby. And I told him if he didn't do the story, that I would find someone who would. I am not taking no for an answer .

I think instead of writing the head of the department of legislature that handles the adoption law, I will give them a call.

The squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Mutiny and the Flea Assination

After spending hours containing all animals into a safe place in order to bomb the house with flea killer, I'm exhausted. It literally takes at least two hours each time, and well, not that I would, but I feel like dropping all animals off at Safe Harbor. The two oldest cats we have, were feral, and never quite lost that outdoorsy mentality. So today while cornered, I hat cats clawing and spitting at me, clearly very agitated. What to do? God help me if I have to do this again. We need to be out of the house for a few hours, and then we can go back to the hellish spot. I'm sure I will be cleaning all evening.


As for the baby thingy we have not heard from our attorney, and I am not surprised. ( Gosh when they want money they are relentless, when they have made two bad matches ...I hear nothing)

So we are looking for a traditional surrogate. Perhaps we can find a nice person who will want nothing more than to help, given that our ability to compensate is dwindling. We are on our last leg of this long journey. Adoption I guess is over with...and I'm terribly disappointed that it didn't work out for us. The stress and strain this puts on any family, any relationship, it is a wonder that any can survive the relentless sadness. I did call the newspaper the other day, and told my story to an editor and I am hoping they deem it worthy of print. We will see.

In the meantime, I am focused again on cake, and fleas.

Takes the Cake!

A week or so ago, we got a call from the PB Post, saying they were reviewing Big Daddy's. It isn't our first review. We have had a few, luckily all of them good. But as I tell my husband, one eatery cannot be all things to all people. We do our very best to be friendly, attentive and to put out good food. Nothing more, nothing less.

The restaurant reviewer called to say he was giving us another good review, and could they come by and get some photos. Last Friday I posed for photos feeling a little ridiculous, but getting them done, feeling a bit exhausted afterwards. All that smiling, and I have a full belly. I wondered to myself how some of the stick thin models make it through a day of posing with nothing more than a cup of coffee and cigarettes, to keep them going.

I was told the article would run in a week or so on Friday. Wednesday morning as I reluctantly prepared for my friend's brother's funeral, I got a call from our chef saying someone was at the restaurant, with my picture and a picture of the cake.

It didn't dawn on me that they had run the article early, and it was mostly about the cake! So, scraping together cake I had ready to go,  it sold out within the hour. We sold out twice more that day.

I rushed back after the funeral to prepare more, and made the last one of the day. People were lining up for it. Keep in mind that this is a day and a half process!

I am appreciative of all the notoriety, and the attention it has brought the restaurant.

Here's hoping people come back for more.

Life is a highway...1st Babymama + 2nd Babymama + 3rd Babymama= No babies for us!

As I was driving to the get together after the funeral I got a call from my lawyer. A little irate that I had not returned her two call s from the day before.

Excuse me, I was attending to a heartbroken friend and a burgeoning business.

Her news- Babymama #3 had changed her mind. I laughed out loud. And immediately thought how great it felt that I had not given the girl the expense money of $950.00. This time I told the lawyer "No".

I explained, that since I am trying to recoup funds from the previous agency, (which said they would send me $1000 every few weeks), I thought great, I don't have to put any money out of pocket!

This time, the lawyer put the money out. The lawyer bought her a cell phone.

When she called to tell me they had changed their mind, I said"How does it feel to know your not getting that back?"

I think our relationship is strained at this point, with them offering now to find us a Safe Harbor Baby, one that someone drops off at a local hospital. I guess she forgot we paid her to match us, so as far as I'm concerned they can give us our money back, or continue to look for a baby.

After contacting the social worker, she told me that the birth father's mother called wanting to know what was a dissolution of his rights was. I had asked for a sign of good faith, so that I would feel more comfortable dispensing money. Initally last week he said he would sign it, no questions. Then they asked can the birth mother stil change her mind ? They were informed that in the state of Florida the birthmother has 24-48 hours after the birth to change her mind. Then they asked if he signs this paperwork, can they still get the expense money????

Another sham.

Tomorrow I am calling our local newspaper.

I'm done being screwed with.

Death & Dying

Today as I was driving along 95 South, in sunny Florida, I was deep in thought. No radio, just me. There weren't too many cars on the road, which makes me happy, given at anytime you venture on 95 you literally take your life in your hands each and every time. Undocumented drivers, lousy drivers, blind drivers ( now I know they aren't really blind but they appear to be given the near mishaps I have had, staying in my own lane!)

I was pondering death since I had just been to what had to have been the saddest funeral service I have been to. And I haven't been too many. Each that I have been to, I remember definitively. What I wore, what was said, what the occurrence was.

So after seeing this service, I decided that should I die, be right here in print for people these are my last and final requests.

1. No crying. I don't care how sad the circumstance. When one person cries it makes everyone else cry and really life is too short to cry, dammit!
( I understand there will be sadness, but go for a run or something, I swear you will feel better!)
2. No sad music. I would like the following music played: The Partridge Family. And some disco, & music from the 70's. That music always makes me happy. I do love the Carpenters but again, too sad!
3. Dress, in something comfortable. Id love everyone to show up in gym clothes. For god's sake it is a crappy day, why make it worse by wearing pants you only wear for funerals?
4. Serve some snacks and have a slide show. Kind of like the drive in, but not.
5. People could recount stories, memories..that would be nice.
6. Since I' m not very religious, I really don't want too much, if any thrown in there. Sorry, I don't relate. I don't want scripture quoted. I don't want verses read. Maybe some inspirational quotes. They would be nice.
7. I'd like to have it at the beach. Given I'd be cremated it should be easy to carry me there.
8. I'll leave it to those left behind to figure out what to do with the ashes.

Haven't I planned enough?

The Flea Patrol

I am on a hell raising trip, through my own house. Fleas are on the loose, and Ii is causing me to slowly loose my mind.

To try and pinpoint when this historic even took place, I would have to go back a month or so to December 31st and New Years Eve. Baxter went to the kennel like any other trip. He enjoyed his time there, although the way he eats and drinks when he arrives back would leave me to believe he is a bit sullen with a poor appetite while he is there but when I ask they smile and say "Oh he was great!" "He ate everything!" Somehow I know this not to be true.

He is not a dog like others. He doesn't like peanut butter, he doesn't like rawhide, he won't eat Pigs ears, or any other dog type treat. He doesn't even eat cat poop, which my other dogs used to find to be a delicacy.

He will only eat for me. He is so my dog, that before I leave for the day, he sticks his nose in the crook of my next and inhales so deeply I think he is taking some skin with him. He exhales slowly and his eyes close. He is can relax after smelling me.

But he has never had fleas. Not one. Until this trip. Of course being saturated with work at every corner of my life, I am slow to notice. A few weeks go by, and I see everyone scratching. Cats and dog alike.

Still, I don't make the connection. (I'll admit I can be a little slow at times- took me till the fifth grade to learn to tell time!) Don't laugh, numbers are just not my thing.

So imagine my surprise when I get ambitious after work last week and bathe the dog.
What I found was a small city of fleas to rival India living on his underbelly. Upon further investigation, I realized that all four cats have them as well, little mini cities living on them, like parasitic freeloaders.

After the initial shock, I went to investigate. On the computer, I read a lot about fleas. And I realized whatever free time I had left, was now gone.

I cleaned vigorously. Everything from couched to baseboards to the animals themselves. And still they are here.

Next step is a nuclear assault on the suckers (literally!) without killing aforementioned pets. I have my spray. I have Frontline that my vet wanted to charge me almost $100 for each pet. May you die, you money grubbing bastard. I have another little pill that kills fleas on contact, and I have the ultimate weapon a new vacuum.

You would have thought I just got a Gucci purse. That is how happy I am with the vacuum. And it's not even a Dyson. Will not pay $500 for household tool no matter how many people tell me its great, unless it could cook and clean and I could get some other satisfaction from it.

D Day is just around the corner.

Life is Short...

Things happen life,that sometimes we will never understand. Like death. We all know it's coming, but most of us, put that thought away in a little place, not easily accessed. Most of us, don't think too much about it, until it lays itself on our doorstep, waiting to come in.

I have been lucky in my life. In that I have not had to deal with tragedies that befall so many people, that you see everyday on the news. People missing, people abducted, people killed, either by accident or not. I am lucky. No one close to me, has ever had anything bad happen to them. We have been for the most part (with the exception of the loss of my grandmother more than 20 years ago) and uneventful family, and yes I am knocking wood as I write this.

My friend, my very first friend in Florida has not had the same luck. She is a petite woman with long blonde hair, and an infectious laugh and smile. When I met her, I knew she was in a unhappy marriage, and she stayed as long as she could finally divorcing about two years ago. While she left with her two kids, she remains comfortable, and that is rare these days considering divorce. But money doesn't make everything ok. Hard times were always close, keeping her company, and her family difficulties were many. She has a great big southern family, and they are very tight.

After her father took his life last year, I was not sure that anything worse could happen.

I was wrong.

Her brother was murdered on Saturday evening, a part of a wild rampage that a very sick woman went on, brutalizing and killing her own grandmother, and then killing Willie.

He has been to my restaurant. He was a fun loving guy, who loved to bet on football, and fish on my husband's boat, any boat for that matter. He would have never hurt a flea. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes, life turns out differently than what we thought, or planned or wanted.

If you get to live every day without personal tragedy, count yourself lucky. Life is short. Make sure you tell those who matter, that you love them. Everyday. You never know when they might not make it back.

Revolutionary Road

Yesterday, I sat down and wrote what I believe to be one of many letters to the head of Legislature here in good ole' Florida, regarding adoption.

I asked that the Head Of Legislature assign someone, to review the law as it stands today regarding adoption and what is deemed necessary as far as birth mother expenses go. I asked them to review and reconsider the laws already in place. In light of the economy, and after having been told that the number of failed placements has risen, leading one to believe that people are signing on for a free ride with no intention of placing, that it should be regarded as a criminal act to knowingly take money from people without follwing through.

I know people have the right to change their minds. However, I as a paying customer should have protection under the law and be able to put my money in escrow for safe keeping. If the birth mother at the end chooses not to place she doesn't get paid.

I'm not saying not to compensate the birth moms at all, but there should be a cap, as to how much one is required by law to pay.

The letter, will be mailed out each week, until I hear some sort of response. I'm not stopping until I do.

"Signed Anonymous"

Thank you to those who have written such open and honest and beautiful notes, to lift my spirits.

For some reason I thought no one ever saw this blog, and I began to think of it as a waste of time. Although I thoroughly enjoy the whole process of thinking of a topic and then seeing where the topic leads me.

But..if you are going to post a response, why post anonymously? Are you afraid? Are you unsure of your own comments? Are you just being mean? Or do you truly have a leg to stand on? Or do you hate your own life so much, you are just spewing crap and whining about your own bad situation? I personally think it is the latter. This is from the entire posting of the second anonymous poster to my blog: I will have to start numbering them since there seem to be so many now!

Anonymous Posted :
Hell? Really? Get a grip. Try food stamps and medicaid. That is hell. Try not being able to get even a job interview. Your surrogate is having problems? Not even close, you spoiled, entitled piece of shit. With a lack of perspective like that, the last thing you deserve is a baby.


Hmmm, do you think the poster is angry about:
1. Being on Medicaid
2. Food stamps?
3. Not being able to get a job?
4. Life in general

I'm thinking Number 4~!

My direct response: Get off the blogs and go to Monster or Career Builder for aforementioned lack of job. Blogging is not where to find one.

Back to my blog, before I go back to one of my THREE JOBS! Which didn't fall into my lap! I got off the computer and sought them out.

I for one, am a very confrontational individual. Perhaps it was my training early on in hardcore muscle gyms, as being the only girl at the time trying to be a bodybuilder, that made me stand up for myself over and over again. I'm not sure. I'm not out to hurt anyone. However, I will not let someone take advantage of me, or screw with me. Ever. If you are a liar, bullshitter or user, I will let you know what I think. And much in the same way, when I find I have ben betrayed (in life who hasn't?) I walk away. Done. It is not easy to get back into my good graces. Not to say that I am not forgiving. I can be. But not all the time. (After all I forgave my father for leaving my mother and collectively ruining eveyone's life at the time). It took some time, but I moved on.

But people who are vicious to be hurtful and mean, and I am speaking to Anonymous 1 & 2 here...You suck. And normally I would feel really bad for someone in your situation. Food stamps and all that jazz. But your ignorance has made it impossible for me to give a shit. Everyone leads the life they want to live. Including me. So next time you pass judgement, and vigorously so, do me a favor and leave your real name. Don't hide. Be proud of your statements. Own them.

Cause it seems like maybe your word, is all you have....

Mean People

I guess what got me thinking that I would end the blog, began when I was scrolling through older posts as sort of a trip back through memory lane. Where we have been, how we got there, and how we wound up where we are today.

Imagine my surprise when under an older post , as I scrolled down, seeing that someone had made a comment. TO those comments that have been posted, in the most supportive and kind ways, thank you. You will never know how much I apprecaite your steadfast and quiet support.

(I always get excited to see if someone might be reading, and how their story might mirror mine, or be slightly or a lot different. I try and learn from everyone I meet. )

This person ranted on about "I don't know what it is like to suffer and be on food stamps , without a job and without a home and that I am an entitled piece of shit for being able to do a surrogacy (which we were attempting at the time). Little do they know that we saved our money, and I could not get pregnant or have my own children. Little do they know, that we have used our savings and retirement money to fund the surrogacy and adoption attempts and at this point we are very close to running out of money. Period. We did our surrogavy three times, and are still paying off bills. So because I saved money, does that make me entitled?

I never expected the anger thrown my way in writing my little blog, where for me.. It was cheaper than therapy. I could sit and write to my hearts content, about the baby stuff because I thought that I would have a sympathetic or empathetic audience. People who have been there, who understand what this process is really like and what it can do to a human being.

I guess it is easier to throw anger at a complete stranger, than to accept your role in whatever situation befalls you. I am spending all my money on a dream, and I can't blame anyone else, if I run out of money and end up homeless.

I am not entitled. I was hopeful. Maybe sometimes sarcastic, maybe a little funny, with some sadness sprinkled on top. But never entitled.

To think that someone would Anonymously (which I love by the way) cruelly criticize me, and then be on their merry way, is beyond me. I just don't get it.

Next time if your posting anonymously ..grow some balls and write your name along with the bullshit you are spouting. Then at least I'd respect you and your half assed comment.

End of my Rope

I have been thinking a lot lately. About ending the Blog, about ending the quest for a baby.

Even though we are matched, (and the baby is a boy!)I am just not feeling it this time around. I don't want to be involved. After being at the ultrasound last week, and seeing her with her mother and the birth father, my hopes are diminished that she will place. And it was difficult. I just don't want to put myself out there anymore. I just want to get on with living my life. I guess I am tired of the ups and downs of the last eight years. This long journey has taught me a few things. Patience, and the knowledge, that no matter how much we want something, doesn't mean we always get it.

If I had a given, where I knew the birth mother was not just taking my money to live, to then change her mind at the end, I may be feeling different. But right now, with no guarantee, I'm just not sure I can do this anymore.

And Another Thing...

It is unbelievable to me to think that on a hot and sunny Florida day, people are still driving around and leaving dogs in their cars, while they run their numerous errands.
I don't get it! Can't the dog stay home?

Why do people need to bring them everywhere? I have a dog whom I love dearly. Matter of fact because I love him so much, I choose to leave him at home, because that is what is best for HIM.

I see many, many dogs barking, scratching, and crying for their owners to let them out of a overheated vehicle.

Think about it. If you sat in a hot car with the windows up almost all of the way..how long would you last before it got to be too much? The inside of a car heats up quickly, sometimes reaching over 100 degrees in the mid summer months in less than five minutes!

So next time you are on your way out, and the sun is shining, leave fido at home. It is safer for him that way!

While I'm at it...

Just because you carry a child in utero and deliver that child, that does not make you a parent. Parenting, happens after the birth of the child, when one takes care of, pays for and raises the child, in question.

Pure Frustration

It seems to me, that on top of having to wait to be reimbursed for our money from the first agency (whoops they spent it!) and having to shell out hundreds more each month for this new birth mom, I feel worn out. Angry. Angry. Angry. It makes my back want to seize up like a crotchety old car engine, that has had enough.

The agency states they used our money for daily expenses to run said agency- seems a little Ponzi-schemeish, and then when new suckers (I mean parents) want to adopt, that money also goes into a kitty. They should have been able to pay us back, this month and next, except for one tiny thing. There are no birth mothers. (there is that nasty, nasty word again!)

So with all the potential baby mamas gone (maybe they are on vacation?) I don't have a hope of seeing all that money at once, back in my bank account. What I can hope for "He" said, was a little here, a little there. What can I say? I'd rather have my money at once like I paid him, not like I'm bringing home tips from a titty bar. But that does not seem likely. We did agree if anyone should drop off a baby, that we would be called at once.

Oh yeah..one more thing. The drivers down here in Florida suck. Now given that 95% of the people you meet say they are from somewhere else, that would mean all the sucky drivers, who cant use a directional, drive 20 mph in a 40 mph zone (applicable mostly to the over 70 set) and who cannot figure out how to drive around a circle, or rotary or roundabout, are starting out driving badly and then move to Florida to showcase their driving skills.

P. S If you are driving a Bentley and cannot see over the steering wheel because you are 80, get a driver! You obviously have the coin! Hmmm, maybe not...though now that I thin k of it. Madeoff, made off will a lot of peoples money around here, so maybe they just fired the driver. Either way, move to the right and let me pass already!

Let's Be Clear

I suppose if one wanted to go off on tangent, one could get critical about the terminology used herein. Given that I do not make these words up "Birth Mom , Birth Dad, etc.. . and the like...they have been utilized by more than one professional in this arena. Attorney's and social workers alike, even Dr.s involved that we have been dealing with, throughout this horrific process, have at one time or another used all of the above.

I am not being disrespectful. I am using terminolgolgy that has been presented to us in legal documents. And while we are on the subject of respect, I don't see anyone clamoring about my rights to be called anything other than what we are at this point: adoptive parents, intended parents, or cash cows for that matter. That is exactly what we are.

So for those offended by my insensitivity to the birth mother, excuse me for not being more sensitive to HER, but after two failed or disrupted (another legal term) adoptions, and paying thousands of dollars for nothing, (that I will not get back) I'm calling it what it is at this point. Disrespect? Never. I have never disrespected the girls or young women who promise to place and then change their mind. It is their legal right. But at the same time, no one is worried about being insensitive to us.

If you have adopted through this process, and have had an adoption go wrong, than you will feel my pain, and understand the agony and devastation that has enveloped my husband and myself. You will understand the bitterness and the sarcasm, and realize that my pain is woven throughout this blog, in quiet desperation of not knowing where or when or if this will ever happen.

If you have adopted and had everything go as planned, shame on you, for making accusations, and assuming you know anything about this. If you think I am being disrespectful, I am sorry for that, but I am calling it what it is. If an attorney sits in front of me and introduces the young girl "Wanda, the birth mother", and you do not like that I'm not calling her the Parent..maybe it's you that is being sensitive.

Perhaps you would prefer prospective birth mother, birth father, adoptive mother, adoptive father...whatever. After years of disappointment, I am exhausted, and I am sorry I am not calling people by their proper titles.

P.S. Terminology (including but not limited to BabyMama, (also a major motion picture) and BabyDaddy) and attitude, sprinkled with a little bit of bitterness used in each posting, after each failed placement throughout this blog, can be defined as "sarcasm". Get out a dictionary.

Why is it...

That some kids nowadays, cannot make change without a cash register telling them what they will give back?

If they had to...the fear that slowly spreads across their faces is priceless.

"You want me to do what?" Just for fun, give them a penny and see what happens. I should film it and put it on You Tube. To all the educators who are sending kids out into the world without being prepared...I know you can only do your best, but it is frustrating owning a restaurant and just the level of mediocrity in the help is maddening.

Employees literally have to be told what to do every second. They cannot think independently for themselves, and do not do more than asked. EVER.

Also they cannot seem to speak without using the word 'LIKE" a million times.

We had an employee, who sat at the front register and was literally picking her zits, while she was talking to me.

Conversation went like this:

Me: (Watching her do the dirty deed) "Stop touching your face!"

Her: "Oh, was I doing something wrong?"

Me: "Are you kidding me?"

Her: "What?"

Me: "Go to the restroom and wash your hands and stop touching your face~! You are handling food!"

Her: "Oh OK.."

Another quality employee:

First day to work:
15 year old- first job
Shows up wearing gold sandals, a belly shirt, low rider pants, long, lovely hair flying all over the place, wad of gum in her mouth to rival the size of a small infant sock. As I spoke to her, she twirled and fidgeted with her hair the entire time.

"Yes, I'll have some chicken with hair on top"! Yummy!

What the hell?

Do these kids live in caves? Does no one teach them appropriate behavior? How to dress, how to carry one self, how they want to be perceived?

I'm guessing they must live with monkeys because even the very worst parent can't be as bad as that!

Or maybe they can....

The future's so bright......it is creepy to think that when I will be collecting social security (yes I know it wont be there when I need it but I can dream!) these little idiots will be running the show!

Thanks to the minions

Thanks to the two or three people out there who consistently follow this blog. I appreciate you checking in!

To the others who have come but left, viewing nothing here as useful, thanks for stopping by. You probably have babies, and so my whining and crying probably isn't all that attractive to you, and hey I get it. But then again you already have plenty of whining and crying so why listen to more?

To anyone else, who just looked and left, thanks a lot.

I don't have a lot of time to follow others blogs even though I would like to..This year I will make more of an effort.

Happy New Year!

A little news, but nothin' to get all excited about!

Our lawyer called the other night, to tell us, that she will be getting our new baby mamas medical records and social history out to us. Can I say I really don't care? I'm not really in the mood to peruse papers about someone I don't know, and frankly don't care to know at t his point. I wish we could skip the formalities and just get right to the baby part.

Where is Juno dammit?

Well on second thought I don't know if I would have wanted her either, because at some point her relationship with the Dad to be became a bit ..ummm inappropriate.

I guess I just want the baby. I don't want to hear her sad story. I can't care about her. The past has been to painful and as much as I can let that go and move on, I don't want to dig myself into a hole ( unless it is one to China where I could possibly pick up a baby!)

So we wait. For paperwork. For more expenses. For more phone calls.

It is going to be a long wait.

But it's not like we have anywhere to go!

P.S. Why do we always need to get these girls cell phones? Isn't a calling card good enough?