Worthy...part 2

It's taken me a while to get back to posting on this subject. Between preparing for the holidays, dealing with a sick kitty (no new news on that front just yet), experiencing the holidays, and then recovering from the holidays...well, I think you get the idea.

First - I want to take a moment to thank Susie, Cassi, Susiebook, Campbell, Mei Ling and Amanda for taking the time to comment on the original "Worthy..." post. It meant a lot to me that you folks commented and especially that you were all respectful of me and of each other. Thank you. I've been reading a few blogs lately where the commentors have been so very full of anger and vitriol for each other and for the blogger.

Just horrible.

So thank you for not making me afraid to read my own blog!

I had an entirely different blog post laid out yesterday, but I received an e-mail from a good friend of mine (T) today and so changed my mind about what I am going to post. Here's what T had to say:

I understand your wanting to understand the adoption process from many angles and perspectives. It does seem that there is a tendency to dwell on the negative aspects and stories rather than the successes. Nothing in life is perfect Jenn. If you really want a child and adoption is your only means of having a child, then it's okay. If you do your best to be a good parent (not perfect---since no parents are) and you and Chris will love that child with all your hearts, then that's the best that you or any other parent can do.. You will never solve the issues/reasons that children are given up in the first place. You will never predict whether your child will be one who knows or wants to know or doesn't want to know their birth parents. Loving someone isn't about perfection. It's about being there and choosing to love them. Life can be full of regrets. Just because kids aren't adopted doesn't make their little lives filled with love---both [your friend G] and I are living examples of that. Loving, nurturing, and helping a child grow into a strong, independent, and good person is what parenting is about. Solving the issues of the birth parents is not your problem nor should it ever become your problem.. You are not responsible for their choice even though you may benefit from it directly. I hate to see you caught up in all of this and not really experiencing the joy and wonder of becoming a parent.

If it were a perfect world, only people who would make good parents would get pregnant at the perfect time. There would be no unwanted pregnancies or children. Parents would always be loving, supportive, and provide a healthy, safe, and loving environment for their children. Alas, the world is not perfect. Life is messy, confusing, and yes hurtful at times. And people make choices that later in life seem wrong and they have to reconcile their lives. Life provides multiple opportunities for us to reach out to others and love them and for all of us to grow.. Enjoy this endeavor to have a family that you are on. The journey should be thought provoking but not emotionally crippling and it certainly should not leave you with a bunch of other people's emotional baggage for you to carry and dwell on for the rest of your life as a parent. Let the wonder, joy, and excitement which started your process swell up inside of you and carry you through till you are picked to be parents.

Thank you T for your good words and kind thoughts. And for reminding me to keep in my mind the joyful part of this experience. And for reminding me that the world isn't a perfect place. Believe me - I am truly excited and happy that Chris and I are on the road to parenthood even if it is through a rather imperfect vehicle...

If it seems that I have been dwelling upon the negative in this blog - please know that it's certainly not my intention. This is simply the place where process my thoughts - good, bad, and otherwise. Perhaps a few years ago - P.B. (Pre-Blog) - I would have done much of this processing in a private journal. I still do that occasionally, but in truth I find the comments that people leave quite helpful as I puzzle my way through this adoption. Sometimes the comments challenge my views as the folks who leave them are from the "opposite" side, but I do find these comments informative, thought provoking and beneficial to my understanding of adoption today. I'm honored that people who don't share my views about adoption take the time to visit my blog to express their views.

Solving all of the problems in adoption today certainly isn't part of my life plan. However, it is my fervent hope that by thinking the issues through that I can work to make our particular adoption - our one little piece of the adoption world - one that is positive and healthy for all of the parties involved: our child, Chris, me, our families and also the child's first parents and first family.

I'd like to be part of a change in the world of adoption. So, amidst my own internal happiness and excitement about becoming a parent, I do take time to think about the process and how I can be the best part of it that I can be.

I may not necessarily be responsible for anyone else's choices or for solving their issues, but by adopting a child Chris and I are taking responsibility for that child. And this particular responsibility comes with a link to another family via the child that we will be raising. Like it or not, we are responsible for how we choose to interact with this child's first family, just as it is the responsibility for the first family to choose how they interact with us.

It is my hope that this link - this relationship with another family - this responsibility that we have for each other - will turn out to be beneficial and positive for this child and, in turn, for us and for the child's first family. That we can all work together to navigate a new relationship with care, with respect, with integrity and with compassion for each other.

I think what I've learned most from all of the blog reading and commenting is this:

The world of adoption is complicated.

Adoption isn't an easy process for anyone involved.

Adoption is hard.

If it's done "wrong" - unethically, with broken promises, disrespect, lies, abuse, and secrets among any and all parties, etc. - it creates a world of hurt for everyone involved: adopted children, adoptive parents, adoptive families, first parents and first families. It leads to anger, resentment, confusion, disruption, etc.

If it's done "well" or as well as it can be done within the flawed system that is currently in place today - ethically, open, with promises kept, with integrity and honesty, etc. - it can create large extended families who love and support each other and work toward raising healthy, happy children.

Adoption - even one that is done well - is definitely not perfect - by no means. There is loss inherent in adoption. That will never change. There is still confusion: how do we make this work for everyone? It takes time and commitment. If adoptive parents and first parents can somehow learn to work together, to be compassionate with each other, to make and keep promises that are always in the best interests of adopted children and each other, then it seems to me that we can make the world of adoption a better place than it is now.

There's a lot to think about. There's a lot to be excited about. Adoption may be hard and complicated, but it seems like it isn't going anywhere and it is a world in which I am enjoying the exploration. I am enjoying thoughts of becoming a parent and I am also enjoying engaging in dialogue about how all of us involved can make adoption better. I look forward to see what the future holds for all of us in this world.

It's time to sign off for this evening. I have some thoughts that I'd like to share on nature vs. nurture, but that will have to wait for another post.

As always, comments are very much welcomed. Please remember that T is my friend and sent the above as an e-mail to support me. I included it here because I thought it was very relevant to the discussion and to my thinking. So please, if you are going to leave a comment I ask that you be kind and respectful to T, me and everyone who chooses to respond. Thank you. I appreciate that.

Happy New Year.

Not again....please

I had intended to come home this evening to take up where I last left off on the "Worthy..." post.

However, this is not to be because I am too distracted and upset.

One of our kitties - Forest - is sick. And not sick like she has a little respiratory infection. She is sick like she needed x-rays and our vet doesn't like the way her x-rays look and had Chris schedule an abdominal ultrasound on Thursday. (We'd do the ultrasound sooner, but the ultrasound guy is on vacation until Thursday...)

Chris shows me the x-rays when I arrive home this evening. He points out the area that Dr. B doesn't like: some kind of mass with white spots in her lower abdominal area.

This wasn't there when she was having some issues with weight loss back in July. The ultrasound was clear. We changed her meds. She gained some weight. She seemed OK.

And then she started eating more sporadically and losing weight again.

And now this - whatever it is - is in her belly.

We just lost Annabel.

We can't lose Forest, too. We just can't...

Please send healing energy to our little Forest if you think of it. Thank you.

More soon.

Overload...

I've been on "blog reading overload" for the last few days.

Really.

I cannot seem to get myself away from my computer. Or other people's blogs.

Last night I made Chris take me to a movie so I wouldn't sit on the couch all night reading blogs.

And when we got home and I should have been getting ready for bed, where was I and what was I doing? Yup. On the couch again reading reading reading blogs.

As a result of this blog reading overload I have neglected my own little corner of the blogosphere.

Could this possibly be because the last few posts have been so serious that they require additional follow up posts to continue working through my thoughts? And I just don't want to do that right now? Have I been reading other people's blogs so I don't have to address my own?

Yup.

Sneaky, eh?

I've been wimping out for a while on The Serious Post...and I believe that this is going to be a continuing trend for the short term.

Additionally, all of those serious thoughts that I haven't been writing down on the blog are now competing with all of the Christmas stuff in my brain: making macaroons, what I need to buy at the store to make the macaroons, how much gift wrap I need to buy that won't leave me with tons of leftover to store all year long, getting the house clean so we can enjoy Christmas weekend sans clutter, deciding where I'm going to hide Chris' stocking this evening, figuring out what I'm going to wear for the various family events coming up this weekend, hoping that all of my various in-laws will prepare food that I can actually eat (read: gluten free), blah, blah, blah.

So...I think for the next few days that I'm going to try to stay away from the computer. From thinking heavy and deep thoughts. From reading other people's heavy and deep thoughts. From all things bloggy.

And I'm just going to enjoy the holiday weekend.

Hope you do, too.

Worthy?...

I've been trying to formulate this post for a few days now. Gathering my thoughts to put into some kind of order onto the blogosphere.

There are a number of first mother blogs that I follow with some regularity. Some of these blogs - particularly those that are in open adoptions are quite inspiring. Seeing how first mothers/fathers and adoptive mothers/fathers navigate their relationships with each other and with the children who bond them together is quite amazing. These are the blogs that give me hope that an open adoption can work if all parties keep their promises and work together.

Other of the first mother blogs are difficult to read because they are filled with pain and anguish - the blogs of mothers who lost their children to adoption unwillingly. Some via the social service system or others who were teen/young mothers who felt that they were coerced into giving up their children because they were considered and convinced by others that they were "too young to parent." Although these blogs are difficult to read, I do so because they challenge me to look at adoption from another's perspective and to consider how our adoption will affect all of the people involved in our upcoming "adoption triad."

Earlier in the weekend I visited and commented on one of the blogs that I find challenging to read. The blogger, Cassi, replied to my comment as did another blogger, Lori, who actually used my comment/question as a springboard for a long post of her own (also included below.) While we come to adoption from opposite sides of the table, both of these women were very respectful of me and willing to engage in dialogue without name calling or hostility. I so appreciated that.

My question/comment to Cassi:

First - as always - let me take a moment to thank you for sharing your story and for sharing so much for yourself on your blog.

Reading this post was very difficult. It's so raw and full of anguish. I can't tell you how sorry I am that you've had to endure this kind of suffering.

I don't know if you can or would choose to answer a question that occurred to me while I was reading your post: Would it have made a difference back when you were so young and scared if open adoption had been available to you?

Please know that when I say "open adoption" I don't mean getting a few pictures and letters every year from the adoptive family. I mean an actual relationship between your child, his adoptive family and you and your family. (Obviously in my way back when scenario hopefully you would have been the key player in the choice of adoptive family...it sounds like the woman who adopted your son was a nightmare.)

Please don't feel like you have to address my question if it makes you upset or uncomfortable. Or if you feel that I have crossed the line somehow in my asking this question (and if I have done so, I hope you'll please accept my apologies. It is certainly not my intention.) I would just be extremely interested in your perspective on adoption today in regards to a much more open process and relationship.

As a prospective adoptive parent, I don't ever want to make another woman feel the way that you do. I'm really trying to find a way to be as open and inclusive as possible and to move through the adoption process with integrity, honesty and compassion. I value your opinion in this regard.

Again, thanks for sharing and for allowing me a bit of space to ask my question.

Cassi's reply:

I'm so glad to see you back. And I hope you know I have a great respect for you and the courage you show by continuing to read and ask questions. I know, even for me too, it's hard sometimes to listen and learn from another side and so many refuse to do this. It shows great strength in those that do.

I'm not sure though that you will like my answer to your question . . . twenty two years ago when I gave up my son at birth, his was an open adoption. It was during the beginning wave of open adoptions and was actually a step ahead because I had two visits a year which was not common during that time.

His adoption remained fully open for the first two years of his life. After that, his adoptive mom no longer allowed visits so his adoption became semi-open with the letters and pictures I was promised.

In my son's fifth year, I received one picture - his kindergarten picture - and that was it. His adoptive mom closed his adoption and it remained that way for thirteen years until my husband and I reunited with our son when he was eighteen.

So I have literally been through open adoption, semi-open adoption and closed adoption in my experience and, honestly, none of those have ever, or will ever heal the pain I expressed here.

I say that because before ANY kind of adoption can take place, a woman still has to go through feeling as if she is not good enough or worthy enough for her own child.

The message to her is still one that places a "better" mom in front of her and encourages her to lose while another gains. It still places her in a position of not feeling confident as a mother because she is led to believe through outside forces, including society in general that she will fail at raising her own child without ever being given the chance to prove otherwise.

I know that open adoption is supposed to be easier for First Moms. That is what so many believe, but in truth, it can't take away that feeling of failure and loss that first must happen to any woman who gives up her child.

Those emotions can be so strong. They can rule our lives for years without easing. By our very nature we are meant to love and nurture our children. When that natural instinct is not only challenged but doubted because one doesn't have "enough" it's hard to move past that and believe in yourself again as a woman and most importantly as a mother.

Even now, all these years later, after raising my three other children, adopting back my oldest son, I still struggle with my insecurities when it comes to being a mother. I still fear someone else is better than me. That I will lose my children to someone else. That they will see another woman as their mother and I will lose that in my life.

Therapy and support groups have helped to recognize these feelings before they fully control me as they used to. But they still exist. They still, in weaker, can play on my doubts and fears. And, honestly, I don't think they will ever go away for good.

I just think, when we support a life where one woman's loss and grief is considered "worth it" to ease the loss of another woman who society views as more "deserving" of being a mother, we create an open, and never closing wound, for so many mothers out there who never even got the chance to try before believing they would fail.

Lori also responded to my question/comment:

"As a prospective adoptive parent, I don't ever want to make another woman feel the way that you do."

Jennifer,

Have you ever considered just adopting the family? I know that it won't take the place of a child of your own, but in reality, will a child that is not ever really going to be "your own" ever take that place either?

Most babies really do have their own mommies and yet there are thousands of children and young adults (teens) that would love to have a family. Yeah, lots of issues, but guess what, mother issues are nothing compared to what the kids have once they are adopted.

These are generalizations, yes, but very few of the adopted persons that I know, don't want to know their "real" parents. I don't mean that in a bad way. I just, after reading many blogs, talking to many adopted persons, took my psychological training and realized that what the kids are saying is that they want the original parents. And mothers, we are saying instead of taking our children, be part of our family and help us keep our children.

I am not anti-adoption, I am massively adoption reform. There truly are some children that need homes. But because of the basic feeling that we all deserve, want, need to be parents, we forget the simplest of all things. To see what is about a child, not what is about us.

So, there are options, foster care (and never believe what is written in the reports, insist on meeting both first parents prior to adoption - social services are the best at telling tales that are not quite true) adoption.

Guardianship - always good because it leaves the child with all their own identity and still gives the family unit a reality.

Or, adopt the family or let them adopt you. I never had another child after my daughter and the one thing that I do find much satisfaction in is the children that have found their way to my doorstep. Many children. I never felt the need to have them call me mom and, in most cases, when they did I was very leary of them (they were usually the ones that I had to make leave and tell never to come back). I enjoy my nieces and nephews and have had a huge hand in caring for some of them for most of their lives.

But, Jennifer, the truth is, when you adopt you will cause this pain. Adoption is the breaking of an existing family. Family is not a piece of paper, a desire to parent, the need to have a child/procreate. Family is the unit, usually biological, that may not be perfect, may argue, fight, be poor, be rich, be dysfunctional, but most of all it is the love that only a mother/father and a child can share. It is looking in the mirror of your parents eyes and seeing you, the real you, whole and total. It is the blessing of knowing that your grandmother's arthritis might become yours one day and accepting that the dimple on your left cheek is not just a mark, but a badge of belonging.

That is what family is.

Adoption is uncertainty. Looking into your parents eyes and seeing someone that is different, not quite right, worthless.

Adoption is waking up hearing your child cry and knowing that it is not real. Spending countless hours and days looking at children in stores, malls, parks and schools, wondering "is this him/her?" It is the locking of part of your heart for fear of drowning in the hole.

Adoption is not the answer. It is the problem.

If you want a child, find one that truly needs parents. One that is from this country, with no living parents or relatives to be found, that has a real need to be loved. Accept them the way they are and know that nothing is perfect. Know that if you don't find this perfect child it is not a curse on you, but a blessing on the children.

But most of all, remember this, to parent you don't have to be the legal parent. You just have to love.

Just my thoughts.

I'm still having a hard time formulating my thoughts about the above dialogue.

What struck me most from reading Cassi's and Lori's words is the theme of worthiness vs. not being worthy.

The idea that I - as an adoptive parent - am somehow viewed by society as more "worthy" or "better" to raise a child than the child's mother is troubling to me.

I certainly don't feel that I am anymore worthy to raise a child (biological or adopted) than any other woman. Perhaps what I am at this point in my life is someone who is not more "worthy" but is instead simply at a stage/age/time in life where I have both the internal and external resources to raise and care for a child.

This has certainly not always been the case.

Had I become pregnant at age 17...there is no doubt in my mind that I was in any way prepared or capable of being a mom at that time. I can safely assert that I would have been too terrified to even think for one second that I was capable of being a mother. My fear would have won out and I would have been a teen mom who turned to adoption. Who walked through the doors of the agency and made/carried though with an adoption plan.

And, if I'm truthful, had I found myself pregnant at ages 25 or even 30, chances are that I would have been in much the same situation as I would have been at age 17. Even though in my twenties and at thirty I had many more external resources: an education, a decent job where I was making OK money, a good living situation, a career path, and marketable skills, there was one other thing happening in my life that would have prevented me from parenting:

I was a mess.

A complete emotional mess.

It was such a struggle just to care for myself - something at which I didn't do well for far too many years. Help was so needed back then, but I didn't know how to ask for it.

Couldn't ask for help and, sadly, didn't even recognize that I needed it.

Again, I am certain that in my twenties or early thirties I would have been so utterly paralyzed by my own terror and anxiety that I couldn't have been any kind of a decent parent to a child. The internal resources necessary to parent just weren't there. It wouldn't have been fair to me or to my child for me to have even tried.

So, speaking for myself - in a way I actually agree with both Cassi and Lori in that I would have felt that there was a "better" mom out there somewhere to raise my child, but unlike Cassi and Lori - not because anyone on the outside made me feel that I wasn't worthy to be a mom. Instead - because of all of the "stuff" happening inside of me at that time in my life - because of my own internal struggles and the sense of unworthiness and failure that already existed in me.

And so I feel for anyone who has been made by anyone to feel less than worthy.

That Cassi and Lori both felt strongly that they were made to feel by others as less than worthy is beyond awful. That the adoptive parents of Cassi's son broke their promises and kept her separated from her child for 13 years - cruel. That Lori was forced to surrender her daughter unwillingly - cruel and life shattering. That they have spent their adult lives trying to recover from these traumas is heartbreaking.

I do not want anyone to ever feel that way.

Still, it is difficult for me to think about turning away from the path that we're on. Difficult to think that there is a woman out there feeling somehow less than worthy - for whatever reason - be it not having the external resources to care for her child or the internal wherewithal or a combination thereof.

I have more to write on this topic, but I think that I need to take a break for now to once again gather my thoughts.

Anyone visiting - your thoughts?

And please - if you choose to share your thoughts - please be respectful to all parties involved in this dialogue. Thank you.

Open...

From the book Making Room in Our Hearts: Keeping Family Ties Through Open Adoption by Micky Duxbury:

The gifts one inherits from birth parents do not merely form the template, with the adoptive parents forming everything else. The personalities of adoptees are shaped throughout their lives by their biological and cultural roots.

Many people are navigating the waters of openness not because they think that it will make the pain of adoption disappear, but because they believe that it will enhance the child's sense of self.

In The Open Adoption Experience by Lois Melina and Sharon Kaplan Roszia, the authors underscore the effect of the closed [adoption] system:

It gradually became apparent through research, personal accounts, and case histories that the failure to recognize and grieve for the losses of adoption had long term effects...impaired self-esteem...difficulty forming an identity...difficulty forming relationships...Not all confidential adoptions were failures, nor did all adoptees, birth parents and adoptive parents suffer serious psychological problems. However, there were many people that found their experience of adoption provided them with emotional challenges that they did not expect and didn't always know how to conquer.

If I knew who my birth mother was, I could have stopped fantasizing and wondering...I could have just asked her those questions instead of just having them bounce around in my head for all those years. - Ben, an adoptee, age 29

Although birth parents were not ready to parent, they have a vital role to play in helping their child know that she was loved then and is loved now by those who gave her life.

If someone would have just told me about open adoption, or turned me onto a book, or let me talk to another birth mom, everything would have been so different. The whole experience would have been so much less chaotic and overwhelming. - Molly, birth mother of Leo

We thought that by choosing open adoptions, our children would be less likely to be plagued by issues of abandonment and rejection, and that the birth families would not wonder if a child they passed on the street could be their own. - Mathew, adoptive father of Lily and Reed

While Chris and I have not made any formal decisions about the level of openness that will happen in our adoption, I find myself very drawn to the idea of openness in adoption and am reading up on this important and potentially life-changing topic. Making Room in Our Hearts, in addition to be informative, happens to be an exceptionally interesting, compelling and thought provoking read as you can probably tell from the quotes above. If you are considering open adoption, I imagine that this book is a must-read.

In addition to books, I have of course, been checking out numerous blogs. I was surprised to find quite a few bloggers who write about their open adoptions. Dawn writes beautifully of her life with daughter Madison and of their lovely and close relationship with Madison's first mom, Pennie.

Rebekah and Rebekah...I only found their blogs a short time ago and haven't left any comments, but have become a regular reader and am inspired by their story. Rebekah and Rebekah found each other in late January 2009. Rebekah #1 is a single parent who was pregnant with her fifth child who felt strongly that she just couldn't parent one more child. She made the difficult decision to pursue an open adoption. Rebekah #2 had been struggling with infertility for some time when she and her husband Ben made the decision to start a family via adoption. Along came baby Ty who is now the strong connection between the two families. Their blogs are lovely and reading about Ty from both perspectives - adoptive mom and first mom - is pretty amazing.

I'd like to write more, but it's late and I should take myself off to bed.

More on this soon.

Good night.

Feeling like a mom...

I dread it...

My workplace Board of Trustees/Community Advisory Board/Staff annual holiday "do."

I'm a fundraiser, but not much of a schmoozer. It's rather embarrassing to admit that in my particular profession that I don't really enjoy these kinds of events.

Still, there will be folks at this event that I actually know and the food will be good. So I hit the ladies room to "fix my face" after a long day in the fundraising trenches and then head out to our holiday decorated lobby to face the masses enjoying our little fete.

A few minutes into the event I run into S - a vice president from one of my company accounts. We exchange greetings and start talking about the holidays and what our families are doing. Soon I find myself saying, "My husband is so excited about next year when we'll introduce our child to the craziness that is his family at Christmas."

S lights up and asks, "Omigosh! When are you due?"

"Well," I reply, "we don't have a due date because we're adopting, but we're hoping it will be fairly soon."

"That's so exciting!" says S and goes on to congratulate me.

Soon we're chatting happily about her kids and grandkids and their traditions and what Chris and I hope our traditions will be with our Little One.

When S has to excuse herself to head home, I find myself in conversation with our Chief Operating officer (A) and one of the Community Advisory Board members (F.)

The "How was your Thanksgiving?" conversation lasts for a few minutes and then A says, "I know when we talked this summer you said that you and your husband are considering adoption. Have you touched on that anymore?"

"Oh, we're actually in the process. We just have a few more photos to get to our adoption facilitators and then our profile goes live online...and then we wait."

"That's great! Are you going to get an older child? Or a baby?"

"Well, we're only planning to do this once so we'd like to have the whole experience - poopy diapers and all."

"That's wonderful!" chimes in F.

And soon we're off on a whole conversation about little ones. A regales us with stories of her son who, unlike his well-mannered relaxed older sister, got into EVERYTHING.

"It's not that he was a BAD kid," says A, "it's that he was BORED and wanted to learn things. So he'd throw something in the toilet to see what would happen. He'd put crayons on the radiator and I'd say, 'Now, N, why the heck did you do THAT???' And he'd say right back, 'To see what would happen to them.' He was just curious! Still is!"

"That sounds just like my little 2 year-old grandson," says F, pulling a photo out of her wallet and pointing to the youngest of three Little Ones posed artfully with Santa Claus, "He is just a little DEVIL!" But she says this with a loving smile so I imagine that he isn't all that bad.

They share more stories about their kids and grandkids to which I enjoy listening. I chime in with a few tales about my nieces and find myself saying, "I have sooooo much to look forward to!" in response to some of their funny stories.

They agree.

"Yes. You do."

Soon the party begins to die down. I say my goodbyes and head home.

As I'm in my car, it hits me that this evening I truly feel for the first time like an expectant mom. Something about sharing my news with S, F and A (people I don't really know all that well) that for reasons I cannot explain - make the adoption and my impending motherhood seem so REAL. Not that it hasn't been real throughout the last 6 months of hard adoption prep work.

But tonight for the first time I just feel like any other woman who is expecting a baby. I feel like an expectant mom.

It's not an intellectual thing.

I'm not thinking, "Oh, I'm going to be a mom."

It's a feeling that comes from deep inside my core and radiates out to my fingers, my toes and even my hair.

Wow. I'm going to be a mom.

And I'm not scared or nervous or panicked or anything in this moment.

Just happy.

Annabel comes home...

Yesterday's tree trim...

Chris runs out to get the tree and I run out to do a few errands before I start to feel too pooped out from The Cold That Will Not Let Go.

Upon my return to the house I find that Chris already has the tree set up, watered and is in the process of putting on the lights. It's a really good looking tree. Smells wonderful.

A short time later while I'm bustling around the kitchen, Chris wanders over to the kitchen table and lifts up a maroon gift bag that I hadn't noticed sitting among the clutter of the table. He says slowly and gently, "While I was out getting the tree, I brought Annabel home."

I think that I may utter a little, "Oh."

I look inside the bag to see a smooth wooden box.

The box containing Annabel's ashes.

Immediately I burst into tears.

Chris is crying, too.

We cry together for a while and then take the box out of the bag. In the bag is also a card from "Final Gift" - the company that performed the cremation. The card contains a nice poem inside and a certificate stating that the ashes in the box are certified to be Annabel's.

We cry again for a few minutes. Chris holds me while I babble about not being able to bring myself to pick up Annabel's ashes for the last few weeks. He soothes me and says, "I know. I broke down in my car in the parking lot after I got her ashes."

After a while there isn't much else to say so I return to some half-hearted bustling around the kitchen. Chris disappears into the basement and returns with a package for me.

My ornament.

Every year on tree trim day Chris and I give each other a new ornament.

I've been so sick over the last week that I never got Chris his ornament and as I stand there looking at the package, I feel terrible.

"I didn't get you an ornament yet," I say to Chris. "I feel terrible. I suck as a wife."

"It's OK, " Chris replies, "you've still got two weeks left til Christmas."

Chris had been in New York this last week at a seminar and so I assume as I open this year's ornament that he has gotten me some art ornament from the Met.

He got me Annabel.

There she is - in her bowl - looking cheerful on both sides of a porcelain ornament.

Immediately I burst into tears again.

So does Chris.

We hold each other for a while and then I finally break away to ask, "Where did you get this?"

"I found a company on-line that does them. I think the colors are a little washed out."

"No. It's perfect."

And so there she is now looking out from the top front of our lovely Christmas tree.

It was a really lovely and wonderful tree trim yesterday. Chris describes it perfectly in this post.

But it was a little strange, too. No Annabel sitting on the couch diving into the tissue papers we throw there as we unwrap the ornaments. No "mrow!" and purr this year.

Oh sure - Forest "supervised" the whole tree trim from the chair next to the tree. Well, actually she mostly snoozed through tree trim occasionally waking to stretch and receive a good scratch or two from Chris or me.

Cecil, of course, would venture into the living room from time to time only to run away in utter terror at all of the strange activity going on...the music, the rustling of the tissue paper, the tall strange green thing in the middle of her living room. It was just too much for her delicate sensibilities.

No, Annabel was really the only one of our three cats who truly appreciated and got into the spirit of tree trim.

So now she'll supervise and enjoy from her spot on the tree.

I know that next year I'll probably burst into tears again when Annabel's ornament comes out of its package, but I know that I'll be happy to have her be part of Christmas again and show her to Schmoopie.

Welcome home Annabel.