In honor of National Adoption Month

mrs. r on the rhouse blog has challenged her followers to blog every day this month about adoption in honor of National Adoption Month. Before the month began, I was thinking I would try to do this, but I am still quite behind on my regular posts. I have basically decided I will take the challenge! I am just going to blog in between about all the regular stuff, too. And maybe somewhere in there I will get somewhat caught up.

So, my first post about adoption will be the letter that I wrote to Cosette, while I was in the hospital with her after she was born. For those of you who don't know, Cosette is the name I called the baby girl I placed for adoption 16 years ago. Here goes:

June 12, 1993 (4:30 p.m.)
Dear Cosette,

In an hour, you will be exactly one day old. The reality of all this has yet to hit me. I can hardly believe just a day ago you were that precious little person inside of me. And now you're here, like you just dropped in for a visit.

I can see how precious and wonderful you really are in just this day we've had to spend together. You are a chosen spirit of our Heavenly Father, and I am humbly grateful to have been privileged to bring you into this world.

You are already so patient, with those all-knowing eyes that see things I cannot comprehend. I believe you understand that your time with me has been a brief interlude. Soon, you will be able to join your family here on earth.

I love you dearly, little Cosette. Heavenly Father loves you dearly. What a choice person you are, to have helped in bringing me back to the path of righteousness, so that we might someday all dwell together with our Heavenly Father. You will also bless the lives of your parents and your big brother.

I have a lot of faith and trust in your new family. I know that I brought you into this world to join them. Even though it hurts to let you go, I will cry tears of joy, because I know you will have a blessed life.

You are so special. I know you will bless the lives of all around you. You have blessed mine in this marvelous "growing experience" we have shared together. I hope you will know that I love you a lot. Thank you for loving me enough to share your beautiful spirit with me.

I'll see you in heaven (maybe sooner!). Won't we have a lot to catch up on then?

Love,
Your friend and "mother"


Well, I signed the paperwork relinquishing my right to parent the following morning. Then, I gathered my things and left the hospital with my family. Signing the paperwork wasn't bad. Walking out of the hospital was difficult, but I was okay. But the next day I spent, completely alone in my apartment, after my family had gone back to Blanding. That time was really rough. But I survived. There were several more devastating days, when I could barely function, but I made it through. And I never regretted my decision. Never. I knew she was where she was meant to be. I still know that to be true.

Thoughts

First of all, I had no desire to see this movie:

But I do like to spend time with my husband, and when he suggested we go Saturday night after he got back from the hunt, I seriously considered it. But I told him the critics hated it, and some fans were suggesting it was Sandra Bullock's worst movie ever. So Britt did a little checking online to see what he could find out about the movie. I can't tell you what site he went to, but he said that Sandra Bullock's character was supposed to have Asperger's Syndrome.

Hmmm.

I don't know if that actually made me want to see the movie even less. Maybe it did. I wasn't sure how I would feel about her portraying someone with Asperger's. I wasn't sure how that would affect my view of the movie. You see, I live very close to someone with Asperger's, and I love him dearly, but I know that I don't get him most of the time. And I know that I get him better than most people. I always worry about how other people see him. And even more than that, I worry about how he sees himself.

I did a little research just now, and I cannot find a site that identifies the fact that Sandra Bullock's character has Asperger's Syndrome. That assumption did taint my view of the movie, but it also made me understand why so few people "got" that movie. They just see Sandra's character as a crazy, freaky-smart stalker chick.

I went to this movie not because I wanted to see Sandra Bullock portray a woman with Asperger's. I went because I wanted to spend some time with my husband. I need you to know, there were parts of this movie where you are supposed to laugh, that I was in tears. It was all a little too real. So grateful for the quirky people who just loved her as she was, but so hurt by the people who recognized her vulnerability. And the realization at the end that she didn't have to be "normal" was beautiful, but still heart-wrenching. Because accepting herself as she was, while a lovely idea, still didn't change any of the challenges she would still have to deal with, day-in and day-out:

Parents who loved her, but who hadn't fully taught her to cope in the real world. People who would take advantage of her naive expectation that everyone tells the truth, just as she does. Her own inability to recognize that not everybody is interested in the meanings of obscure words and other random facts that are fascinating to her. And then the people who respect some of her qualities, but still expect her to make more of an effort to conform, to be normal.

Oh yes, this was a hard movie for me to watch. But not for the same reasons as everyone else, perhaps. Although, I would say, even without the Asperger's aspect, watching someone make a fool of themselves over and over is always painful for me. It's not really something I enjoy watching.

But I am glad I went. I needed to see that, to think about what I can do better to educate my own community about respecting people with Asperger's. I knew that already. This was just a reminder. I think I will finally do that post where I list some facts about people with Autism/Asperger's. I love that Garrett is so high-functioning, but just because some of his symptoms are hidden, they are still there, and I know I personally need to do a better job of respecting him as he is.

Not today, though. That is its own post.



This is what else I have been doing this weekend. Sad story for you. When I moved, a couple years ago, I had less than 3 weeks to get everything out of that house. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Luckily, I had some help. Unfortunately, I had two library books on my shelves at the time, and they got packed without my knowledge. Once I realized what had happened, I couldn't get to them, so I asked the librarian to continue to renew them for me until I could locate them. Well, it has now been over a year since we moved into this house, and I cannot find those books. There has been a new librarian at the library for several months now, and I have had multiple fines incurred. I even paid them a couple times, but that was a while ago. I can't even show my face in the library. I should just go in and pay for the books, but it is just one of those expenses I just cannot justify paying right now.

Lucky for me, my daughter Tyler sees these books on the shelf and thinks they look fascinating. She brings them home from the school library, and we start to read them together. But her attention span just isn't there for books of this nature, so she loses interest fast. Then I sneak away with the book and devour it. Oh how I have missed the library!

A couple weeks ago, it was two books by Gail Carson Levine, Fairest and another one that I forget the name of now. I read those pretty fast, late into the night, because I knew she would have to return them soon. I tried to read one with her, but the next night, she had other things to do besides sit still with me.
Part of Friday, most of Saturday and Sunday, and then late into the night I enjoyed Inkspell. I have seen the movie Inkheart, but now I know I need to read the book, because you know they are always changing things in the movies.

I love the way the author of this book just draws you in. Her writing literally holds you spellbound, and the characters really keep you thinking. I love the way she ties all these different characters who are connected to books in some way. Oh, I have been a lover of books, too. And this is a book I could love.

And I really did love this book until she left me hanging. Then I panicked. Oh no, it is a series and she hasn't even published the next one, I was thinking. It is sort of like that Pirates of the Caribbean movie where everything is so unresolved at the end, you are thinking, how could that be the ending? And then when the next Pirates movie came out, it didn't even resolve any of your questions from the previous movie. Kind of like, really? That's it?!

I have read all of the Fablehaven books published so far, and only the last one really leaves you feeling like that can't possibly be the end. At least it wraps up the main point of the story. At least it doesn't just end. How can it just end, when nothing is resolved (which is exactly how this one ends)? There are all new problems and issues, plus old threats that are still not conquered. Oh, I don't think I could bear to wait two more years for the sequel to be published.

Especially if it is anything like Brinsingr, the sequel to Eldest and Eragon. I really enjoyed Eragon, well-written, well-paced, interesting. Eldest was okay, but seemed to end unresolved. Brinsingr did not pick up where I expected it to, did not answer the issues brought up from Eldest, and just seemed to go on and on like it was trying to make too many points that may have been relevant to the author, but should have been skimmed off by a good editor. And then instead of completing the trilogy, it left it unfinished, but hardly had me begging for more.

Luckily, I found that Inkdeath is the sequel to Inkspell and it has already been published. When Tyler returns the book tomorrow, I will beg her to pick up Inkdeath for me. So more housekeeping and personal hygiene can go neglected.

It really is easier to pick up these series after they have all been published, don't you think?

Intervention

So, a few months ago, I was contacted by someone from up in the Provo area. They were doing a documentary on people with addictions to modern technology, particularly the internet, and people who use their phones for data streaming. I guess someone (we won't name names, but YOU know who you are) had referred me to them, and somehow they didn't think Blanding would be too far to drive to do a small piece on me and how unnaturally attached I was to my BlackBerry.

They sure discovered how far it really is when they tried to take the freeway to get here, and ended up on the road two extra hours, back-tracking on I-70. But I guess they were determined to do their jobs, because they stuck around for almost a week after showing up later than they had planned.

Those of you who live in Blanding may remember the small film crew that was trailing me for a few days. Yeah, that was a little weird. And for a while I even tried not to check my email, and facebook messages on my BlackBerry every five seconds whenever I was talking to them, but wow, it was harder to do than I thought. They probably thought it was rude that I had to leave a comment on my sister's blog while they were trying to ask me a question about whether I thought my addiction to technology had taken over my ability to function normally in the real world--"No way! Just let me finish my thought here. Now, what did you want?" And of course, they had to document how I would wake up in the middle of the night to check my messages, and how that is the first thing I would do when I woke up in the morning. I am sure that is going to make for some lovely footage. Those of you who have read this post know what I am talking about.

But even though having the film crew around was more than a little strange--and seriously stressful, that was not the worse part.

The worst part was when I went over to the Counseling Center to talk to Steve about Garrett's medication, and they took me back into one of their conference rooms instead, and the room was filled with "concerned" family and friends. Ugh!!! Seriously, you guys. I should have known. I used to be addicted to this show (See above picture), especially when I could Tivo it and watch every episode in succession. But this whole idea that I am addicted to the internet, especially blogs and facebook, and obsessed with my BlackBerry, it is just ludicrous! I know I never actually use the phone part to talk to someone--texting really works better for me--and come on, I have never liked using the phone. And as far as the idea that spending so much time on the internet is making me socially awkward in real life, seriously folks! I have always been socially awkward. You all know it is easier for me to express myself in writing.

But I guess the part where I had to concede there might be a problem was when they pointed out I was spending more time Googling recipes than actually doing any cooking, and my family was getting tired of eating cold cereal--you know it is bad when they tell you they don't want to eat cereal!-- and peanut butter sandwiches all the time.

While I think the whole "Intervention" thing was a bit over the top, I have to admit, my life has actually improved since I started my addiction rehab program. Luckily, San Juan Counseling has a pilot internet addiction program that I have been able to do as an outpatient, so we have been able to keep this whole process pretty low-key, as far as how many people have known about it. And as I have worked the program, I truly have been able to find my way back into the real world. I think the happiest one about that is Olivia, because now when we play pretend, I don't have to pretend to be the lady at work on her computer, I can actually interact with her.

It has certainly been hard. I have to admit, I have had a few relapses, and Britt has even threatened to get rid of the internet at our house altogether, but I am doing better. My BlackBerry is no longer blinking at me, feeding my compulsion to check whatever that new message is. That was and is still the hardest thing for me, but at least I can call from almost anywhere around here now with my new Alltel phone--I actually have service!

And since Britt has given me a lot more work to do while I am at the office, I don't really have time to be tempted to feed my addiction, like I was when I first started working here.

I just thought I would let you know, the episode of Intervention that features me will be airing next Spring. I will tell you when they give me an official date. They said they will be checking up on me again around that time also. So wish me luck! It has been so nice to learn how to interact in the real world again. It still going to take me some time, but I know now that I can. Thank you to all of you who cared about me enough to want to get me help. I promise I won't fail you.


Alright, I hope none of you seriously believed that story. As if a show like Intervention would ever come to Blanding for little old me? But truthfully, since I gave up my BlackBerry just last week, I realize how much that little phone/mobile internet device had taken over my life. I still want to keep checking my new Alltel phone just to see if it will do something more than tell me what time it is. It is driving me a little nuts that it doesn't do more, but really this is a good thing. We have downgraded to a simpler, less expensive phone plan.

We changed some things on our home phone calling plan also, to try to save money. We even considered eliminating it altogether, including the internet. I tell Britt I could have done it, but our boys do need the internet for their school work, and I obviously still love my internet, even without my BlackBerry and all its quick updates.

Trying to cut back on our expenses in other ways, we turned in our van lease and sold Britt's truck. Both had XM Radios in them, which we all LOVED listening to. We bought a nice little used Honda Civic and an old truck. They just have regular radio, and let me tell you KRTZ just doesn't cut it.

But again, I can live without.

The simple life really isn't so bad.

I promise, I have some real blog posts coming soon. I am amazingly busy, but that just means Britt and I will be making real money this month. Yay!

She Inspires Me: (Long Overdue) My Mom

Okay, I have a ton of pictures of this lady at home on my computer, but since I am at work, I am going to go ahead and type this up without any pictures. Maybe I will edit it later and add some pictures when (if) I have time.

This post has been marinating in my head for months. It started probably around Mother's Day. What kept me from posting then? Well, I don't know if you have noticed, but I tend to avoid following specific patterns for blogging. Even though I have created this ongoing inspirational women feature, don't expect me to do it at a specific time, like a Friday Feature or a Wordless Wednesday. Wordless Wednesday, really? Don't we blog so we can go on and on about our lives? Isn't a journal for writing lots of words? And seriously folks, a picture may be worth a thousand words, but it cannot speak for you. (Brooke may disagree with me there. I know she has tons of pictures that speak volumes on their own).

So, obviously no Mother's Day Tribute.

Did you know her birthday is in June? Perfect time to write about the beauty of the wonderful lady who gave me life. The woman who has sacrificed so much for my happiness. The woman who now celebrates her birthday with a touch of sadness for the loss of what would have been her first grandchild, born one day before her birthday 16 years ago. So much I owe her, so much I wanted to say about that.

And then this year she got one of the worst birthday presents ever. I am so sorry that I had to be the one to give her the awful news, but I am also grateful that it was me and not someone else who could not truly understand her pain. Four of my mother's six kids were brought into the world by a doctor who was good friends with my parents. He was the doctor my mother trusted, all these years, living in this small town so far away from family and friends. No matter what stresses were going on in my mother's life, what health issues were affecting her, Dr. Redd was always a comforting part of her life.

Needless to say, that tribute to my beloved mother did not happen in June.

And my blog has been somewhat neglected this past couple months. We have led a wonderfully busy life, but when I blog, it tends to be just trying to update you on the fun things we have done. And I know you would rather hear about our trip to Lake Powell a couple days after the fact, instead of a month later. I apologize. Still, at the end of every one of those catch up posts, I think, soon. Soon I will write about her.

Then I think how can I possibly cover it all? How can I truly recognize all that Gail Glover is to me? I know I won't do it justice, but here, while I have a minute, here is a bit about why my Mother Inspires Me.

I will start with the fact that she loves my dad. Unconditionally. Completely. I mean, she must. A city girl who was close to her family married him and moved thousands of miles from home to the middle of nowhere. I am not just talking Blanding, which is where they settled, but literally the middle of nowhere on the Navajo Indian Reservation. And then let's go back to Blanding. How many years have they lived her now? Thirty-something, and my mom is still a city girl at heart, and still loves her family, but Blanding is where she and my dad have stayed. As her daughter and now as a mother to my own children, I am grateful for this choice she made. To make the best of where she was put. I am glad to be able to raise my kids in Blanding, near their wonderful grandmother.

And when I say she made the best of it, I really believe that to be true. She served the community in many voluntary capacities, including PTA President and Relief Society President, while she had small babies and children (six of us!) and no family babysitters (I know how spoiled I am). She also served on the school board, and was always trying to make a difference where she could.

Then when I was in junior high, my mom went back to work. Let me just say, I know now how lucky we were to have our mom at home while we were growing up. How spoiled we were being able to call anytime and say, "I forgot my homework," or "I just fell on my face off the monkey bars and they think I broke my nose." And there she always was, ready to rescue us, or help us face the consequences of our mistakes. Spoiled as well in the full-spread breakfasts she laid out for us every morning (I really thought cereal was a treat). And then there were the full-course meals that included many options for her six finicky (I have no idea how to spell that) eaters. I remember Italian Place steak sandwiches, egg rolls, with homemade fortune cookies, baklava.

Well, things changed with my dad's position at UNDC, and my mom found it necessary to use her skills to help provide for the family. She even returned to BYU for two summers to complete a Master's Degree. Those summers were some of my fondest memories. I have a feeling, like my mother, I am a city girl at heart. But I can be happy wherever my man is. I realize now it wasn't easy for her, being away from her husband during those months, taking care of six still young teenagers and tweens, while attending classes and trying to study. But she has always been a life-long learner, always trying to improve herself. And she succeeded in her goals then and many others.

In time, she became the Dean of Administrative and Student Services at the College of Eastern Utah, where she began this working career. For many years, she worked alongside Kay Shumway, the other Dean at the college. They made a good pair, working together to do what they could to keep college operations running smoothly. It's never easy being a woman in what is still a man's world, which is true of most working environments even today. I remember studying about that (gender issues) in college, because it had been one of my mother's areas of expertise in one of her previous positions at the college. I remember thinking my professor blew the whole inequality thing way out of proportion, but I have seen since how true it can be.

One of my mother's dear friends whose acquaintance she made while working for the college was Grace Jones, an African American woman who had been selected as the president of CEU. This woman met a lot of resistance from the college community, in Price as well as in Blanding in her role as a leader. Those rose-colored glasses I had been wearing, trying to convince myself that gender inequality was not an issue in the world anymore, they started to crack. A few years later, I realized the glass had fallen out entirely as I watched my own mother's struggle with different issues at the college that related directly to her leadership role, and others' perception of it.

I won't go into details. I don't know all the details. I do know my mother served the college for 25 years, and now that the time has come for her to retire (truthfully, in many ways, it is earlier than she would have liked), she is not getting any real recognition for the work she did there. Compared to what was given to others who also recently chose retirement, I cannot help but be offended on my mother's behalf. I am afraid (though I do not know), my mother has been misrepresented to many in regards to the way she did her job. All I know is my mother has loved the college from the moment she was first associated with it. She has wanted the best for the college, always. For years, she never took any leave time. She just accrued more and more, but she never used it. It was like the college was her baby and she couldn't stand to leave it.

She was personally invested in the people who worked there. She cared about them, worried about them, did all she could to support them. She cared about the students. She did all she could in her role to help them succeed. I have witnessed this firsthand on many occasions. If my mother was guilty of anything, it was that she was too invested in her job. When something didn't work right, she took it personally. I think, even though she is completely helpless now, she still does.

I like to believe my mother has made a difference in people's lives in the work that she did at the college all those years. I hope one day I can have as much influence as she has had. And I pray that she will know, as my brother Worthy has said, that to those that truly matter (her family), she has made all the difference in the world. And for that, I thank her.

I love you more than I can say, Mom. You are amazing!

Just so you know, we (her family) are throwing a retirement party for my mom at the Edge of the Cedars State Park and Museum on Friday, September 18, from 7-9 p.m. A blogsite has been set up so people can leave a word of congratulations and encouragement. Go here to check it out, and be sure to check out the article I wrote about it which should be in this weeks Panorama and the San Juan Record. My mom is awesome!

About friendship and some ancient history

Last week's Relief Society lesson came from The Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith. A good, simple lesson, one of those that made it so that you couldn't help but love the Prophet Joseph even more. And this quote he said, I latched right on to:

"I don't care what a man's character is; if he's my friend--a true friend, I will be a friend to him, and preach the Gospel of salvation to him, and give him good counsel, helping him out of his difficulties."

--Joseph Smith

And it got me to thinking, am I true friend? Have I been a good friend to those I really, truly care about? And I know the answer is no. I know there is so much more I could do, I should do. I know since I have gotten caught up in my own little life, I have closed myself off too much from the people who could benefit from my friendship. And I believe my life could be enriched through strengthening friendships.

The lesson came kind of at an interesting time for me. I had recently re-established some old connections with friends on facebook. I was also starting to develop some friends through adoption connections. And one of the conversations I recently had with a friend made me think about the kind of friend I once was, and the kind of friend I would like to be.

Now, I am one of those people who always believes the best of nearly everyone. I can be very forgiving, and I am always hoping that those who struggle to make correct decisions will some day be able to recognize the good person that I see inside them. There was a time in my life when I was very much attracted to these "lost causes", not that I was doing much in the way of trying to save them.

***I must apologize here. I started this post a couple days ago, and never quite figured out where I was going with it, so I just left it. Let's see if I can salvage it and come up with something reasonable to say***

This brings me back to a time, some 16 years ago. I had a friend who had come to me with sort of an apology for the way he had treated me a few years before. I need to be clear, it was nothing bad. I think he was working the 12 step program and felt he needed to make some kind of restitution with me. And then, not much later, I felt the need to reconcile with someone else, a guy I myself had wronged.

I hadn't heard from him in something like 9 months. He had been my boyfriend for a few months a year before. I used to visit him often at his home in Salt Lake. And he came to visit me once in Blanding. But when I told him I was pregnant, he disappeared from my life. He just quit calling. I later found on this was due to some deception on my little brother's part. It turns out the guy had called, but my brother told him I had moved, and he never told me that he had called. It wasn't meant to be, and I know if it had been that important to me, I could have sought him out.

Now, that was what I was doing. I was aware that he had moved, because I hadn't been able to reach him at his old place. I traveled to Salt Lake and went into a store where I knew he had once worked. I asked his old boss if she knew how I could reach him. She was hesitant to tell me. Then I pulled out the locket that the adoptive family had given me as a gift. Inside was a picture of me in the hospital, holding our baby girl one last time before I signed the papers relinquishing my rights to parent her, placing her for adoption. Immediately, the woman gave me the information I needed. There was no phone number, but an address where I could find him.

He was living with another girl. Honestly, that is what he offered me when I told him I was pregnant. But I knew I would never settle for that. And he had misunderstood when I told him no. Later, as we visited, he told me that he thought when I refused to move in with him that meant I believed the baby was someone else's. I was okay with where my decisions leading up to the placement had taken me in my life, and so I felt no regret over this lost relationship. But I did feel badly that there had been some deception, on my part. I felt I owed him some information (although it was very late) about what had happened to his child. I showed him pictures, and explained how I had chosen a family for her, with a big brother and two caring, financially secure parents.

He was devastated, or so he said. Even when I was with him, I knew this guy was a player. He was always flattering me, and playing to my weaknesses. I knew he was full of sh--, even when I had been with him, but I ate up the attention, even as false as it felt. I don't mean to judge him, which I realize it sounds now like I am. I just realized as I was meeting with him again, after so many months, that we were not compatible. It was a time of closure for me.

But he told me his girlfriend he was living with had just recently miscarried their baby after carrying it about 5 months. So this news from me was a double blow. He was really feeling the loss. Then, as his girlfriend went to pay the check for the lunch we had just eaten together, he asked me if we couldn't get back together. Like I said, I was in a good place, and I knew I did not belong with this guy. Not to mention, how faithful can you expect a guy to be when he is asking you out behind his girlfriend's back. I tried to be gentle, but I was honest with him. It wasn't going to happen, but I still wanted to be friends.

I remember he called me a couple weeks later, and wanted to see me. I was coming up to the area anyway, so I agreed. I felt like I owed it to him, to have some kind of relationship, since I had practically given his child away without even asking his input in the matter. I remember visiting in a car, near a movie theatre in the vicinity of the neighborhood where he was currently living. He said he had broken up with his girlfriend. He asked me to kiss him. I told him no. Honestly, his girlfriend was probably back at their apartment. It was all a little suspicious. But it wasn't that stopping me. I just knew I couldn't go there again.

Then he told me I had always been kind of uppity like that. Like I was so much better than him because I was a Mormon, and also I had more money than him. Well, when I was with him, I hadn't realized there was any kind of disparity in our lifestyles. I knew he wasn't LDS, but it obviously didn't stop me being attracted to him. I never realized I had acted like I was better than him. Although I do remember teasing him for the way he pronounced some things. He was from Texas (I think), and some of the things he said were a little different. I am such a grammar snob; I probably was even worse back then.

I remember this set me back a little. I just hate thinking I may have offended someone, or been rude or anything like that. I felt really badly that I had made him feel that way. I always try to be accepting of people, no matter what their lifestyle choices may be. I never meant to be uppity.

When I think about it today, though, I think it is something I still need to work on. I don't mean to exclude people who are not in my same circle of friends, religion, neighborhood, whatever. But I think sometimes I may offend, just because I like to stay in my little comfort zone. You know, how the missionaries come over for dinner and then ask who you know who might be interested in learning the Gospel, and you realize you only ever spend time with the people that you see at Church all the time. I could do better.

I have to postscript the story of Cossette's baby daddy, though. I told him about LDS Social Services, which was the agency I had placed Cossette through. I gave him some paperwork to fill out, so that her parents could know more about her biology. Then, when I asked my counselor if he had received the paperwork, he told me for confidentiality reasons, he couldn't tell me much. He did tell me that the guy had contacted the agency, but he said the name I had given them for him wasn't really his name. His real name was completely different from the name I knew him by. All this time I had known him, "known" him, you know, and I didn't even know him. So, maybe I shouldn't feel so bad for being a snob to him. Maybe when he said that it was just another way of him trying to manipulate me. Boy am I glad those days are over!

Now, as I look back, another thought has occured to me. It seems like her sealing to her family came a little later than expected. I watch my blogging friend going through a court battle with her adopted son's birthfather, and a horrifying realization comes to me. Did he fight the adoption back then? I don't honestly know. Seriously, if the agency withheld information like that from me, after making that sacrifice as a birthmother, I would be so angry. Hmm, I may never know. It's okay. At least I know she is where she belongs. And I am in a good place now. Just trying to be a better friend. All is right in the world.

A weekend journey

Come with me on a journey up to Layton, to the Davis Conference Center, to the Families Supporting Adoption National Conference. This was a journey where I learned so much. I learned more about myself, my anxieties and my strenghts. I learned from others involved in the adoption process, and I discovered ways I can advocate for adoption, and where I stand on adoption reform.

My journey began Thursday evening, as I waited (and waited, and waited) for my husband to return from Provo/Moab/Monticello--a busy work day for him that had started after he drove up the evening before to sell the truck and purchase a new (used) car. We are in the process now of trying to simplify our lives, and provide some relief to our stressed out bank statements. He finally made it home about 5:30, and I finally left the house around 6:00 after I decided I would spare the mileage on our leased van, which is about to be turned back in. Instead, I would take the unlicensed little Honda Civic, which doesn't even have old plates on it.

What I learned from that drive? You notice absolutely every cop on the road when you are doing something you know you shouldn't be. Britt even called to check if it would be a problem for me to drive it, and the word was I would probably be better off if I did not get pulled over. I carried with me the bill of sale, so I could explain my story if needs be. But let me tell you, that was nerve-wracking to say the least. Nerve-wracking also to be tailed closely at night, between Green River and Price, wondering why the heck the guy didn't just pass me. Only to have him follow me into Walker's in Wellington. Traveling alone never freaked me out when I was single. I guess I know too much now. (Or I was just really tired and paranoid).

Friday morning, as I walked into the conference late and alone, I realized that I really wished I had made arrangements to meet with some of my friends from online adoption sites, so I would at least have someone to attend classes with. I was feeling shy and anxious. Worried a little that I was going to be stirring up old feelings that I had forgotten. Here I learned fear is a normal emotion, but it must be faced and is usually easily conquered. I tend to like to stay in the comfort of my home, to not expose myself too much to the unknown, to not take on too many responsibilities where I have the opportunity to fail. I see it is okay to acknowledge my anxiety, but I must not let it hold me back.

And as the day went on, I met dear friends. I ate lunch with some sweet ladies with whom I have only ever communicated in the virtual world. While I tend to be shy both online and in the real world, I realize I do crave that interaction with people who are passionate about the same things as me, people who have either had similar experiences as me, or who have witnessed those experiences with love and compassion. I am so glad I went.
Moving on, I traveled to the nearby mall and began shopping for school clothes for my kids. There I had an experience where I came to realize that my husband loves me and wants what is best for me, although he doesn't always realize how to give it to me (yeah, I know this. Just another reminder). I need to do a better job of communicating what I need. This was an example. I hadn't gotten up early enough to arrive in Layton in time for the first class, but I attended every other event that day, with the exception of the Awards Banquet in the evening. When I called Britt to ask him for some advice on the school clothes shopping I was doing, he reminded me that the reason I was up there was to shop for the kids' school clothes, and the conference was secondary. Um, no. I really needed to be there--at the conference--more than I had even known, and getting the kids some clothes for school while I was up there was just a bonus.


While I was there, I discovered mrs. r is just as beautiful in real life. And so generous. She was physically sick the first day of the conference, but she was still willing to take a minute to visit with me and some other ladies who knew her through the Adoption Voices site. (And hey, if you haven't checked that out yet, you should.) And for as busy as she is, she clearly does so much with adoption advocacy, not just online. She is an inspiration. She was still very concerned about my story, and eager to hear how everything goes with my pursuit to communicate with the family. Meeting her, attending a couple of her classes, just helped to remind me I need to do more. I CAN do more to spread the love for adoption.

This next part of my journey is where I wanted to include a picture of my sweet friend Angie Wager, who I recently found again through facebook. While I was up there, I sent her a message on facebook, saying I would love to meet up with her if she had time, while I was up there. She sent me back a message with her phone number, and I was able to arrange a time to meet. We ended up going out to dinner at the Chili's restaurant by the SouthTowne Mall, where I had been doing more shopping. What a treat that was! Angie still has that beautiful, contageous, thrilling energy. You just can't help but be happy being around her. How I have missed that! This part of my journey made me realize, I need to get out more often. I need to strengthen those relationships, those friendships with people who feed my soul. Oh, Angie, thank you so much for going out of your way to be there for me! (And sorry readers, the picture is just for her and me to share. Her blog is private, and she is single, so she would prefer not to be too exposed on the web.)

There is something else I learned that night at Chili's. For the last couple days I have been trying to figure out how to explain what this experience means in a sensible, non-offensive way. Maybe I read more into it than what it was, but I still feel like there was something for me to learn in what happened. Maybe that is the point more than anything.

I know my Heavenly Father knows me personally and loves me absolutely. I know this. Part of why I know this is because of where I am in my life today. Who I am. How I am. There was a time I didn't know if I could be the kind of person I am today, to be worthy of the blessings I receive daily. I was afraid because of my addictive personality and an addiction that, before my sweet husband, prevented me from having a stable, loving relationship.

You know I just said I don't get out much. So this experience was kind of unique for me. (This is the part where I am reading way too much into this, but bear with me). The waiter in Chili's was flirting with me pretty hard core. Angie was a little embarrassed for me. She said, "You know, it's not me he's flirting with." And I said, "Hush!" because he was standing right behind her at the time. And all the while I was thinking, surely he can see that honking wedding ring on my finger. Maybe he just wanted a good tip. He was laying it on pretty thick, though. Even asking where Blanding was and saying he wanted to go down to that area some day.

But Angie was watching out for me a little, I think, when she offered to pay the full tab. I don't think she wanted the guy to have my name (from my credit card). And she walked me back to my car and watched me drive away. She knew me when. Yeah, I was a little crazy in my college days. For my parents' sake, I won't go into too much description, but you all know a little bit about my adoption experience, so you have some hint of that. Let's just say, if a guy came on to me, and I was even the slightest bit attracted to him, I went for it. I ate up the attention, and I didn't have a lot of common sense when it came to that. Even when I had a boyfriend. Even when I didn't even know the guy. Now, I can see that was crazy, but back then I just couldn't help myself.

And I know, I know sometimes happily married woman are so happy to get that extra attention, they screw up. They make mistakes, huge mistakes because they might feel like they have fallen out of love, or are so attracted to someone and think they won't ever get caught. That woman could have been me.

But this is the part where Heavenly Father knowing and loving me comes in. That was never something I even considered. I didn't flirt back. I didn't covertly share personal information or do anything to pursue this guy. And when I say he was coming on strong, I am not making this up. Maybe he considers married women a more challenging conquest. My point is, this was never even an issue for me. Not at all. And there was a day, some 15 years ago when I couldn't imagine it not being an issue. I really did not know how to behave myself. And as much as I loved the Gospel, my addiction was more compelling than my religion. I feel so blessed to be able to say that is absolutely not true today.

Because I read my scriptures. I attend church and the temple. I serve in my church callings. I celebrate the Gospel in my life. I love my family. I live worthily to be subject to the Spirit. I know I need to do better on my personal prayers. And I need to do more in family, especially with Family Home Evening. But I am headed in the right direction. And that matters. It matters a lot.

I do hope that made some kind of sense. I love where I am so much. The family that I have. The beautiful man who married me and changed my life forever. And man is that they might have joy. And I do. I do.

Good News, Bad News

Yesterday, while I was working at my new job at Britt's office, I received a phone call from someone at LDS Family Services in Farmington, New Mexico. My kids who were home either took the call and didn't take a message, or never answered it. But the number showed up on my Caller ID, so I called it. It was after 5:00 by then, but the lady who runs the office happened to still be there. She told me it wasn't her that called, but gave me the cell phone number for the LDS Service Missionaries who I had talked to before.

Do you want the good news first, or the bad?

The good news is he was able to get a hold of Sandy, the lady who runs the Logan agency. She was thrilled that I was interested in re-establishing contact. Absolutely send a letter, she said. Send pictures, too, they told me. Just don't include any identifying information. Like a poster behind our family that says, "My name is Nan Barton, and this is my address and phone number." That's not me talking. Brother Welker, the service missionary is the one who joked about that. Something like that would never have occured to me. I wasn't even allowed to send them pictures before, so that would be HUGE.

The bad news? Well, it is potentially pretty bad. The truth is whatever I send I am, more likely than not, going to get back. The family no longer resides at the address where they lived during and after placement. The Logan agency did not know if the family had stayed in contact with their agency or left a forwarding address. I think it is highly unlikely. The more I think back on it, I just don't think they were the type to participate in an FSA (Families Supporting Adoption) group, or to be active in any outreach programs where they would interact with the agency because of work promoting adoption. And back then, families were only allowed to adopt 2 children through the agency, and she was their second.

I guess all we can do now is pray that something (or someone) will touch that family so that they would know to contact the agency. Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe something will happen, and this letter really will go through. Wish me luck, and even better, pray for me. Thanks, you guys.

An offer of service from LDS Family Services

The office was closed when we pulled up. It was close to 8:00 a.m., and I had no idea what their office hours were, or whether the agency was even still in operation. The real reason I was down there was to use to LDS Cannery there in Farmington, which happens to be right next to the LDS Family Services office. That office I have been to a few different times in my role with Families Supporting Adoption as a birthparent advocate. But not in several years.

My friends and I walked into the cannery, and proceeded to can dried carrots for the ladies in our ward. We were quickly done, and walked out a little after 10:00 a.m. While the boxes and cans were being loaded into the truck, I wandered down the sidewalk and peered into the office. There was a beep and the locked door opened. Of course, then I felt obligated to enter.

I walked to the lady behind the counter, offering my hand. She shook it. "I'm Nan Barton," I told her, "I am a birth mom." The funny thing is, it wasn't that long ago when this introduction happened, I would have said, "I was a birth mom." Now, I am aware of the fact that this will always be true. I went on to tell her that I had worked as a birthparent advocate with the agency before, and I occasionally receive newsletters from the Albuquerque office, but I hadn't had any contact with the Farmington office for years, and I was wondering if they still had an FSA group, or any other outreach programs they were sponsoring right now.

I am sorry. I can't remember her name, but she was immediately apologetic. The man who had run the office for years had been sick for much of the time he was in charge, and so the work of the office declined. Then the lady who took over from him never quite figured out what she was doing and has since moved on. This poor woman who had greeted me behind the counter also seemed a little overwhelmed, but she said she was eager to get everything whipped back into shape.

So I asked her if there was anything I could do for them.

Well, she just brightened up then. She told me I should meet with the Church Service missionaries in the next room.

Now, I felt a little anxious, because I don't think my friends had seen me slip away, and therefore, they had no idea where I was during this brief exchange. But I truly did want to be of help somehow to the agency in their efforts to promote adoption. So I walked in, was introduced, and sat when they invited me to.

Within moments, I was sharing a bit about my story. And as they acknowledged that adoptions were more closed when I placed, they asked if I still had any contact with the adoptive family. Unexpectedly, I started to tear up as I explained that the last time I tried to send a letter, the agency in Logan shut me down, telling me they wouldn't even have the adoption records on file there.

Well now, that smiling elderly gentlemen sat right up and said, "Logan! I worked at the Logan agency. I just retired from there a couple years ago. I know the lady in charge there now. I will call her and get it set up. You just write that family a letter and send it here, and we will make sure it gets forwarded on."

Did you catch that? I went in to see what I could do to help, and immediately they offered to help me. Wow. I had essentially given up on having any contact with the family until the time (which may or may not come) when she decides she wants to meet me. And I was okay with that. But now, we could correspond again, maybe. Wow.

And I came away with a bunch of pamphlets and cards and video, so I can do my part to spread the message about adoption and the services offered by the Church through LDS Family Services. Yay! This is my little way of doing my part to save the world.

And I guess now I should get busy composing that letter. . .

My heart hurts

When Garrett was little, and Cole a babe, my little family of just me and the boys, we lived in a trailer across the street from Boyd and Ramona Bradford and their big dog who could knock you over just by wagging his tail. My boys loved to play with Grandpa Boyd, who happened to be their cousins' Bradley and Carson's grandpa. And even if he wasn't their grandpa, we would have adopted him as our own. He was a fun guy, and Ramona was so generous. We had good times in their yard, playing with their rambunctious dog. And Garrett loved to play with Boyd's toys. We were lucky to have him in our lives.

But Ramona got sick. And then she got better. But then she got sick again. And it was so sad. And we were so worried about her when we realized the cancer was terminal.

Then Boyd disappeared.

I ignorantly did not realize what that meant.

Months later, I knew. The news was devastating, heart breaking, tragic.

And I was angry. I saw the pain this caused for his family, some of which were my family. I saw my nephews' Grandma Monie suffer. I was mad at Boyd, whom we had loved, whom we did love. I tried to explain to my boys, but they were too young to understand. My husband tried to explain to me, and I was too angry that he (my husband) thought he could understand. That scared me. I didn't want him to understand, to try to relate. That was wrong, what he (Boyd) did was wrong; it was selfish.

So, the news today brought me back to that. I still can't understand, these new circumstances. This man who delivered thousands of healthy babies, who cared for thousands of patients. I personally didn't like him all that much, but he was friends with my parents. He delivered most of my brothers and sisters. He committed a crime. He was charged with it. And then he committed this other crime, to himself, so much worse. Why???

Who do I get to be angry at now? Who do I blame? I am not happy about the way the Federal government handled this, and people are supposed to be considered innocent until proven otherwise. But the media has already convicted everyone named in this case, especially the Redds. It just makes me sick to read some of the comments some people are leaving on these news sites. Not to mention the way the news sites are portraying the story in the first place!

So, yes, I am angry with them.

But mostly I am terribly sad. And I pray for his family. And I pray for all who have been targeted by this raid. I do believe people should be held accountable for breaking the law, if they have, but I cannot help but see this whole thing as such a tremendous tragedy.

I know that some of you don't know what I am talking about, so I will refer you to a couple newspaper articles, but by all means, do not take these stories as pure fact. There is more to the story. Hopefully, some day we will know:

Deseret News article

Salt Lake Tribune article

I am going to be a guest blogger on mrs. r's blog

Remember mrs r? Remember how I told you how super awesome she is. Well, she told me she thinks I am kind of awesome, too, and she wanted to feature me as a guest blogger on her blog. What an honor that will be. But I am not going to be around today, to see if it happens today, and to welcome any guests here that come here from her site.

Cub scout day camp duties take me up on the mountain this morning.

But if you are a visitor and love adoption like I do, you are welcome to click on the post label for adoption to read a little more about my adoption story.

If you just want to read some random posts by me, I recommend this one.

And maybe this one.

This one, too, if you want to hear me rant a bit.

And I would recommend you check out the Women Who Inspire Me button on my sidebar, if you want.

Welcome, visitors.

I still love, love, LOVE mrs. r!