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returning home

The visit was just awesome. 

Holy smoke-and-fire, these birthparents are incredible.

We went to her OB appointment and chatted in a comfortable room while we waited.  (I think I mentioned before that this doctor is a big adoption advocate, so when he saw us there he ushered us all into a nice room so we could talk.)  F. is, as before, incredibly warm and happy and effusive in her appreciation of us, and now she is really glowing with that pregnancy beauty.  J., the birthfather, is friendly and chatty and seems to like us a lot, too.

Rainbow and F. are both doing great.  I had a brief panic when the doctor fired up the ultrasound because he went straight to the head, and I didn’t see a heartbeat…  I started to feel panicked – no no NOOOOOO!!! –  but then – there it was, beating strong at 125 beats a minute.  He was sleeping.  We got to see him on 3-D ultrasound, and he is beautiful.

It’s just… all so perfect.

Although, of course it’s not really perfect.  We’re flesh and blood people after all.

I was so nervous, and had slept so poorly the night before, that I had a hot-mama of a tension head-and-neckache on the day of our meeting.  It was like I was wearing a neck brace; I had to turn my entire torso to look at people during dinner and just try my best to ignore the pain.

There are a couple of minor bumps that the social worker assures us are no big deal, so I’m just trying not to think about them.  la la la la la…..

Also, I need to get in touch with my friend who adopted from Florida and ask how her hospital experience was.  It sounds like I won’t be able to breastfeed or room in with the baby until the 48 hour window of birthparent grace period has passed.  Which SUCKS.  But, not a deal breaker or catastrophe – we’ll all get over it.  There will hopefully be a nice nurse or two there who will hold Rainbow a lot, right?  I just hate to think of them sequestered in those plastic boxes.  When the boys were born, they only went to the nursery for weighings and checkups, and then spent all the rest of their time with me in the hospital room.  That’s how we roll. 

Well, that’s how we like to roll.

On the bright side, it looks very unlikely that circumcision will be anything to worry about.  Daddy J and I are anti, and it appears that Medicaid is, too  – you have to pay up front if you want your baby circumcized.  So, hopefully there will be no confusion and Rainbow can come home intact.


I told F. that I felt like we had won the lottery with this adoption situation, and she responded with, Well, we feel like WE have won the lottery, because we know the baby will be so happy and loved and well-cared for.

So, yes, it’s looking good…


When Daddy J and I got back to the home airport, we walked to our spot in long-term parking rather than take the shuttle so that we could stretch our legs.  It was a gorgeous, bright day.

We walked under the two-story parking garage and were out under the sun, crossing a road through the airport, and I saw some paper fluttering down into the middle of the street.  It was rectangular, folded in half, and fluttering straight down.  I pointed it out to Daddy J: Look at that paper falling – isn’t that pretty?

Wait, is that money…?

Daddy J walked to the middle of the road (some drivers saw the money fall and slowed, but pedestrians trump drivers in this sort of thing) and picked it up – a nice, crisp one dollar bill.

A very positive, sign, no?  Money from heaven?

well, hello there…

Remember when it was so reassuring when I found the little pearl in my oyster last time we came down?

We had another little token, a little charm.  When Daddy J and I pulled into the hotel parking lot and got out of the car, he leaned down and picked up a little dachshund charm.

Which is cool because the birthmom had put a deposit down on her mini dachshund when we were last here.  I think she intends it to be her little cuddle critter after the birth, which I think is extremely wise.  I would totally want something like that.  And of course reminds me of our sweet little weiner dog, Oscar, who we got right after we got married.  Oscar was my little cuddle critter when Daddy J did all that international travel in his previous job, and I looooved her.

Anyway, it was delightful.  We both thought, Why, hello F.!  Nice to see you here! and felt all welcome and reassured.  I’m going to give it to her, along with her gift basket of goodies.  It’s all beat-up and scratched from being run over, but I think she will appreciated the coolness of our finding it.


On another note, I packed like an imbecile for this trip.  Like, crazy-lady packing.  Daddy J told me it was warm in Tampa, but, uh, I thought he meant “mild.” But, yeah, it’s warm. Also, I thought we were going to the doctor and then straight to dinner, so I only brought as a very-presentable outfit my tall boots-suede skirt-tights-velvet top or light wool sweater to wear, and am having to wear the Wal-mart jeans and faded long sleeved travel t-shirt I brought.  Which, I know, keep it real, Mama Jamz, but I wanted to look really special and pretty every time I see them.

meeting the birthparents part deux

Tomorrow we go and and have our second meeting with the potential birthparents.


Obviously, I’m totally preoccupied with whether the birthmom will change her mind and decide to parent, and thinking that the things I say and the way I look to her are really, really important as far as reassuring her goes.

And have probably been spending way too much time reading birthmother posts on forums like this where a lot of negative and angry and betrayed birthmothers post.

I don’t want  it to be that way.  I don’t want our birthmother to hurt or to be bitter or angry or depressed.  I am hoping that these really angry and sad birthmoms maybe didn’t fully understand their options, and that our situation will be different because our birthmom has had a lot of contact with the agency and seems like she really grasps what’s going on.  I want it to be better for her.


My aunt popped over today and told her that her youngest son’s due date was March 17 (or so) and she went into labor exactly one month early.  He was born after a very fast labor and weighed 8 lbs 15 oz. (same as Rockinrolla, now thatchamentionitt.)


What if Rainbow came on Feb. 1 instead of March 1? 


Honesty is…

The following is the result of a Mama Jamz assignment given to the Fishmaster.  I made no corrections (except his misspellings of  ‘radiance’ and ‘treads.’)

You can see hints of the reading he’s been doing at school (they just finished The Count of Monte Cristo  and have been studying the Bible some.)  I love the coyote/lamb sybolism and all the “lo’s” and “thrusts” and such.

Guess how proud I am of my just-turned-13 year old…


by the Fishmaster

What does it mean to be honest?  Is it the act of being true, or the absence of lies? When one is entrusted with a task, any task at all, honesty must be applied.  If not, you will be the sly coyote.  The coyote, who creeps through the wood at night, is in search of the innocent lamb. 

But, when the light of honesty shines its radiance on the coyote, it becomes beautiful; it does not feed on the flesh of the lamb, for it knows that killing the lamb will bring the coyote unhappiness.

And when the coyote sees that all is good, he is happy. 

The same applies to all things, for all things wish to be happy.

If a man does many wrongs, and lives in the sly, why does he do these things?  For he knows that these acts will bring him nothing but misfortune, unhappiness, and sufference; or does he?  He is tempted, by the illusion of happiness that awaits him at the end of the task in which honesty is thrust upon him.  But lo, he passes the path of honesty and treads the road of temptation, which he will wander hopelessly on this wicked road forever.  But, if he chooses the path of honesty, he will be rewarded with a shower of happiness. 

But still, is it possible for a kind man to be dishonest, and a wicked man to be honest?  The answer, in my view, is yes.  A kind man can be dishonest, and still be kind but not necessarily wicked.  The same applies to the wicked man.

But what of the man who believes he is doing a right but in fact is doing a wrong.  Perhaps it matters if the act is more severe than others, or the level of its severity.  But the man, who thought he was doing a right, has the virtue of innocence.   Thus saying, there may yet be a third path: The Path of Innocence, where the path is long but not treacherous.

In conclusion, you have a choice: Honesty or Dishonesty, Truthfulness or Untruthfulness.  As for the Path of Innocence, you will not know when you enter it. 

“Do not Live Life in the Sly” – Sawney Webb

sicky and whiny

Yeah.  I haven’t been sick in awhile, and it is NO FUN.

Daddy J took the boys to his mother’s today and left me at home alone (sigh) to recuperate.  Bummer.  Grandma L is an awesome cook.  I also missed a Christmas dinner at my mother’s yesterday.  (Stupid cold.)

Anyhoo, I’m about to take some Alka-Seltzer cold and zone out.  Possibly some TLC network in my future – isn’t that the one with the What To Wear and Baby Story shows?  The Woman Channel, as Daddy J calls it.  Also, probably some Deepak Chopra meditation at some point.  I loves me some Deepak.

I realized that I forgot a Christmas gift for a kid in the family and am wondering if I can recycle one of the boys’ newish looking books.  Too tacky?  But WHO’S TO KNOW except for you and me?  I just DO NOT feel like venturing out to the big city, and the shops downtown don’t have all that much for this child’s age group.  Can I justify it by being eco-friendly?


My brother, The Commander, is coming in this evening to spend the night and visit a bit.  Hopefully I’ll have a little more pep in my step by then.  He’s a Wii fanatic and promises fun with light saber dueling.

Birth verses

So, I came across a mention of a site that has matched your birthdate with a bible verse, and was all, huh.  Like, kudos to them for this great marketing idea in the Christian world – think of all the magnets, plaques, t-shirts and whatnot they could sell with birth verses on them!

I think how it works is this: there are 66 books in the Bible, so they have a pool to choose from.  They look at the various verses that match up your birth month as chapter and birth date as verse, then toss out the losers, like Abadiah begat Abladiah and Martha got all pissy when she had to scrub the floor and Angry horses of doom breathed fire and smote all that was living.  You know, the ones that wouldn’t be all that inspiring.  They pick the best of the reasonable-sounding ones, and declare that your birth verse.

So, huh.  I hesitated to even click on it, because I sort of view the Bible as, like, a Declaration of Independence or a Bill of Rights.  Like, a wonderful document that was created by committee.  I’m not saying the committee members were unintelligent or uninspired, but they were human, after all.  There had to be arguments about what got included and what got left out of the final package, right?

(Fine, Ringo, FINE.  We’ll put in “Yellow Submarine.”)

And I just can’t even have a conversation with people that get all Yew better change yer ways becuz scripture sez whut yer doing is WRAWWWNG and yew better stop fore you get smote and sent to fie-ree HAYELLLL!!

I find that those people are best avoided.


I found the link to the birth verse site while I was still in Internet goof-off breakfast/coffee mode, and figured, what the hey.  It’s got to be more illuminating than oceangram, right?

I looked up my birth verse first, which was something about serving the Lord with zeal and energy.  Which probably means that I should get off my ass and quit moaning and fretting and do some Good Works already.  Which, yeah.  I hear you, God.

Then I looked Ward’s up, which was a little more on point:

John 10:28 NIV
I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.


I know I’ve said and thought that he was snatched out of my hands before, so this caught my breath.  And, you know, is pretty spot on.

So, if you feel like it, look up your birth verse and share.  Does it fit at all, or did you get the one about Jesus bending down to tie his shoes?

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