Man Card

For Father's Day, I would like to share this poem that my friend wrote and dedicate it to the wonderful fathers in my life who have made such a difference just by being there. The world needs dads like you. 

Man Card

by Jeromy Caballero

I have solder.

Using heat and strange alchemy,

I have secured prongs and wire to a circuit board.

I have fed it power, and by Jim, it works!

I beat my chest and howl in triumph.

O gods upstairs, I am coming after you,

for I am man!

At least until the endorphins fade.

Because I have also learned that the lasting victory

is facing a screaming toddler at 3 a.m.,

calmly.

I have learned that my wife correcting me

is not the same as being trampled on,

even if it feels like it.

And I have learned that I am no less of a man

if I keep my macho shoved deep in my pockets beneath my fists.

And although swallowing my pride is like swallowing the sun some days,

there's no other way to keep the world from burning up.

And yeah, when I get my Lambourghini it won't be powder blue,

and I still like football,

but I've seen too many guys confuse manhood with adrenaline

and I'm here to reclaim the man card

for the guys who stick around.

I'm speaking for the guys who have never picked a fight,

but never stop fighting.

The guys who can't remember the last time they ever lived,

but live anyway because someone needs them to.

I'm speaking for the guys who understand that the faster you want to run,

the more you have to leave behind

and that finishing first sometimes means carrying nothing at all.

And if you think your toughness must always be on trial,

then by all means, there are contests tailor made.

Climb a wall with no handholds,

or run through fire,

or leap a gator pit,

and if that's not tough enough, do it in the rain!

And when you're finished, fold your arms to hold in the rush.

Consider your man card punched.

Or,

forget you have one

and stoop to restore someone's dignity.

Wear out your knees because lifting others is heavy work.

Wait without grudging the hours because to someone,

it meant you were there.

Say I love you and mean it

because you're handing her not just flowers

but a bouquet of years of thick and thin

of shoulders used to carrying all you can

and of feet that,

while they may never have stepped onto a podium,

kept walking on.

I hope I am the tortoise.

Because while the hare will beat me nine times out of ten, remember:

As much as he beats his chest,

I crossed the line with my house on my back.

Noelle's Kemen

On May 9, Noelle turned one. In Marshallese culture, the first birthday is celebrated with an event called a kemen. It's a huge celebration that entails a ton of food and all the community. We did our best to replicate that, but we just had a small family party with a ton of food. :)

Red Lobster for dinner. She loved the cheddar bay biscuits

I made one of those giant cupcakes for her. Chocolate with whipped cream frosting and sprinkles. It had a peanut butter chocolate crust "cupcake holder" crust. 

Joci helped blow out the candle. We were out pretty late with dinner but Noelle was happy missing bedtime as soon that big cake was set in front of her.

She ate it like a champ

Party decorations. Justin made the palm tree. 

Presents!!!

We served Marshallese food for dinner - chicken and rice, sweet potatoes and fried bananas, and baked papaya.

 We love our little girl so much. Her personality is really shining through. We are so blessed to have her in our life. I am the luckiest person in the world. I wouldn't change my family for anything. Love you, Noelle!

Joci Turns 4

It's been two months, but how about some pictures of Joci's birthday? She has been anticipating this birthday since about Christmas. I had to tell her back then that all the snow had to melt before it was her birthday. Time and waiting is hard for 3-year-olds. 

And finally, the birthday came. I have never seen a happier kid. When she went into the living room the morning of her birthday she was so excited to see streamers, wrapped gifts, and a rainbow wall hanging. 

She had breakfast with me at my work that morning. She told EVERYONE it was her birthday. 

Barbie game from cousins

Moon Sand, a last gift from Grandma Normandie. My mom usually thought ahead a bit and we found a sack with a couple toys. There was Sharpie writing on the sack saying which toy was for which grandchild. 

One of the easier cakes I have made. Why do I try so hard on birthdays? Lots of layers, but cute. 

I love the grin this girl gets when we sing Happy Birthday to her. 

I asked her if she made a wish. She said yes. When I cut the cake and put a slice on her plate, she squealed and said, "That was my wish!!!!"

That weekend, Grandma and Grandpa Z came. Of all her gifts, Joci loved the singing birthday card the most. She took it everywhere. Even to bed. It died after only a few days. She also really loved her pink cowgirl boots. They light up when she walks. For about four days she wore them everywhere and even slept in her boots.

Joci had her first friend birthday party. Attendance was a bit abysmal and that disappointed me but she didn't  notice or seem to mind. We went to a party place called Blast-Off.

Even Noelle got in on the action

Joci was really uncertain at first and scared of the tiny tunnels and rooms, but finally warmed up.

About to eat cupcakes. Landon, Joci, Alex and Alyssa, and Paige.

Rainbow cupcakes

Noelle had her first taste of cake and loved it

Alyssa showing Joci how to play with the doll she got her

After her friend birthday party, Joci  was convinced she was 5 because she had two birthdays. :) It's taken us awhile to convince her she is only 4. We love our little girl. Every year is just more and more fun. I love having a four-year-old.

If You Love It So Much, Why Don't You Marry It?

Joci just saw a wedding picture of William and Kate on my computer.

Joci: Why are they getting married?
Me: Because they are in love.
Joci: Why do the boy think the girl is love?
Me: When you get married, you start a new family and you always want your family to love each other. So you always marry someone you love very much.
Joci is thoughtful for a minute and then says: I love cake.

Mother's Day Without My Mom

This has been a very tender Mother's Day for me. Last year, I was *supposed* to spend Mother's Day with my mom. She had plans to come up to Idaho to spend the weekend with my brother and me. But my little baby Noelle came earlier than expected and I spent Mother's Day in Arkansas while my parents stayed in my house and watched Joci.

No one on this earth would know that my mom only had six more months left in her life.

I am not coping very well today. I push away thoughts and memories because the crying gets really ugly when I let them come to the surface. But I do want to honor my mom with some favorite memories.

* I was maybe 6 or 7. We went to Arctic Circle. We ordered our food then hung back to wait for our order. There was a half-wall separating the ordering area from the eating area. I noticed a wallet on that half-wall. I looked around. No one was near the wallet. I was concerned that someone had lost it. So I reached out to grab the wallet with every intention of turning into the Arctic Circle employee and report it missing. As my hand hovered over the wallet, a sketchy looking man with a dirty tee shirt, grizzled long beard, and crazy eyes slapped my hand and called me a thief. I instantly started crying as I tried to explain what was going on. My mom finally clued into what was happening and she went full-on mama bear crazy. You don't hit someone's child and expect to get away without a massive verbal evisceration at the Arctic Circle.

*I was 16 and my mom took me to lunch at Mi Casa restaurant. Pretty cool for her to just take me to lunch one random day in high school. We started talking. I told my mom a lot of stuff, but I always kept my romantic life pretty private. But this time I opened up to her about a boy I was in love with. I was embarrassed and expected her to tell me I was to young to be in love. Instead, she commiserated with the pain of it all and told me that young love is very real and very strong.

*One time in high school my dad was out of town and my mom said I could have a big party. Like the kind of parties you see in the movies when the parents are gone. But no alcohol of course. And so I did. Almost the entire school came over. My mom even set up the TV and VCR on a picnic table out side and like 10 kids were piled on the trampoline watching the movie. My mom, of course, was in the garden weeding and planting flowers by only the porch light.

*I remember looking out at the sea of parents' faces during the kindergarten Christmas pageant and comparing them all. My mom was the most beautiful out of all the moms.

*I always told my mom that I picked her to be my mom. I've said this since before I can even remember. I think it's true.

*My mom was really nervous about our first adoption. She was nervous about the prospect of an open adoption. When Joci was born and we drove to go get her, I could hear the apprehension in her voice almost more than the excitement. She seemed to be prepping me for a heartbreaking outcome. She also seemed to view Joci's birthmom as an obstacle to be overcome. I don't say that as a bad thing. Unless you've had an experience with an open adoption, it's natural. Well, we got to Boise and me the baby and the birth parents in the hospital and then went to Applebee's for lunch. I called my mom on my cell phone to tell her that we held the baby and things were going well. At that moment she was shopping at JCPenney for clothes for the baby. Suddenly the line went really quiet. With a choked voice, she told me to thank the birth mother and tell her she loved her. It was such a special moment, knowing my mom loved my daughter's birth mom.

*I still feel guilty about this. My mom made me an amazing, elaborate dress for preschool graduation. As a 5 year old, I had a hard time with the abstract idea of a picture of a dress on the pattern and different fabric and modifications. I wanted my dress to be just like the dress on the pattern. She finished the dress and had me try it on. The dress had some little detail I wasn't happy with. Like there were little bows on it instead of rose appliques. Something like that. I threw a fit. I was not kind. Instead of telling her snotty 5 year old to just be grateful for a beautiful new dress, she spent all night redoing it to make it right for me.

This is the dress. My niece wore it at my wedding. 

A few more memories. I'll be brief. 

*When I went on vacation to NYC and she came to my house to watch Joci and she made Halloween costumes for me and my friend. 

*When I was in college and we had a truly honest discussion about relationships and disappointment

*When she was so proud of the work I do as a copywriter that she made me pose in front of a sign I had written that was on display at my company and took my picture with it. 

*The many times she let me stay home from elementary school just because I was her baby and she wanted to spend time with me. 

I still can't believe you aren't with me, Mom. You were so healthy and vivacious, I fully expected another 25+ years out of you. Your mother lived that long. I always imagined building an apartment for you in our house and making a lot of special memories with you in your golden years. I'm still coming to terms with life without you. I don't like it one bit. But you were such an amazing mom and I know that heaven missed you and needed you back. Nothing gold can stay. 

20 Things You Need to Know About Infertility

1. You know someone who struggles with infertility. The statistics vary from 1 in 10 to 1 in 8 to 1in 4, but even at the smallest percentage, that means one out of every ten people you know struggle with infertility.
2. Infertility is embarrassing. People make bad jokes. I was asked if my husband and I knew how to “do it” right. I had to keep a chart for my ob-gyn marking every day that we “did it”, marking my temperature every morning, marking my cycles. Someone gave me a Sex for Dummies book—I normally take jokes really well, but it was humiliating.
3. Because infertility is embarrassing, many people don’t talk about it. I promise that you know more than one person struggling with infertility. I also promise that you won’t know everyone in your life who is struggling with infertility.
4. Infertility and sterility are different. Infertility is not being able to conceive a child after twelve months of trying. Infertility can sometimes be overcome through medicines or procedures. Sterility is the inability to procreate. No amount of medical intervention can change sterility.
5. Infertility is not always a female thing (even though Henry the VIII always blames his wives). Male infertility happens just as frequently as female infertility.
6. Most insurance plans do not cover infertility treatments.
7. President George Washington, the Father of Our Country, was likely infertile. He never fathered any children, even though his wife Martha had four children with her first husband.
8. Infertility can be caused by many different things—hormone levels, glucose levels, polycystic ovarian syndrome, low sperm count, sporadic ovulation, low sperm motility, endometriosis, irregular menstruation, infections, scar tissue, and much, much more.
9. Secondary infertility is when someone who has already had a baby has difficulty having another baby.  
10. Secondary infertility is just as devastating as primary infertility. The fact that someone should be “happy with what they have” and be glad they already have a child does not lessen the blow that their hopes and expectations have been pulled away from them.
11. In vitro fertilization is not the only course of action for infertility. Treatments depend on the underlying cause and will vary based on that. Many treatments are as simple as taking a pill a few times a month or changing your diet. Less than 3% of infertile couples are treated with in vitro fertilization.
12. Alternative health care like acupuncture or herbal remedies seems to be beneficial at treating infertility.
13. Infertility is a physical disease and must be treated as such. “Relaxing” won’t get rid of someone’s lupus or diabetes. It won’t get rid of infertility. However, learning to cope with stress is an important part of dealing with infertility, just as it’s an important part of dealing with any long-term disease.
14. Depression rates in people with infertility are the same as in people diagnosed with cancer.
15. Adoption is not a cure for infertility—it a cure for childlessness, which is not the same thing.
16. Infertility increases with age. While society may think that 30 is the new 20, women’s ovaries haven’t got the message.  
17. There are only about 600 reproductive endocrinologists (reproductive specialists) compared to over 28,000 ob-gyns.
18. Baby showers and birth announcements can be really hard for those who are struggling to have children. 
19. Hormone therapy used to treat infertility can make people extremely moody and sensitive with a penchant to get upset easily, rage astronomically, and cry uncontrollably. They don't act like themselves. They are usually aware. They don't feel like themselves. They don't like themselves either. Show them extra patience and love when this happens. 
20. People with infertility like hugs as much as everyone else. Give them one. 

I Think I'm in Denial About Infertility

My official cause of infertility is unknown.

It could be my body.

It could be my husband's.

Doctors have been surprised that we haven't been able to conceive so I think there is just something about the two of us together.

I've known this for years. Adopted twice. Been off birth control for over a decade. Had surgeries. And yet there is a part of me that is still in denial about my infertility. Especially since it is unexplained, I think that maybe it will just go away. Or maybe there is a 3% chance of me conceiving and it may just happen. Maybe I'll be 46 like Halle Berry and completely taken by surprise. Joci will be in college.

When my friends talk about their birthing stories, there is always a voice in the back of my head that makes plans for when I have the chance to give birth.

My endometriosis has the unpleasant side effect of really heavy periods. My sister told me to get an IUD. It would really minimize them. I dream of how nice that would be...but I just can't justify any kind of birth control. If there is that tiny chance I might get pregnant, I better not prevent any pregnancies no matter how painful and awful my periods are.

Lately, I've developed an allergic reaction to certain brands/types of tampons. I keep praying I won't have a problem with ALL tampons because I don't think I could do this without them. See the above paragraph about super heavy periods. I've semi-joked about getting a hysterectomy if that were the case. Part of me thinks, heck, why not? That uterus is done broke anyway. If it's causin' so much pain, get rid of 'er. But then again...what if?

I am so hung up on the "what if" that I can't consider the idea of birth control - temporary or permanent. In a perfect world where I had perfect control over my fertility, I would probably be done having children by now. Or at the very oldest, 35. I would be more than happy to put my uterus out of commission until menopause decided to kick in. But being saddled with unexplained infertility, I just can't do that. Maybe someday, I'll feel differently. Maybe when I am 35 or encroaching 40 I'll decide that I'm done with hope and I'll be ready to purposefully block the teeny, tiny chance of a miracle pregnancy. But for now, I'll deal with the pain of periods and the pain of the unknown.

Hope is painful.

How Adopting Prepared Me to Become an Author

I’m not sure I would be an author if I weren’t an adoptive mom. That’s because adoption taught me how to seek after and embrace Plan B.

How to put this delicately…I mean no offense to any other adoptive parents, birth parents, or adoptees—including myself or my children—but adoption was my Plan B.  I was going to get married (check!), get a house (check!), get a stable income (check!), get pregnant and have babies and be a mom (uh…roadblock).

The getting pregnant part of Plan A just wasn’t going to happen for me. But did that mean I had to give up on the part about having a house full of babies and being a mom? After thinking about it a lot, I knew that getting pregnant was not really as important to me as being a mom. I could be a mom without being pregnant through adoption. Maybe that makes it Plan A ½ instead of Plan B. Is that a thing? Can I mix fractions with a letter? I pretty much coasted in Algebra but I do remember numbers and letters mixing in equations, so I will allow it. Adoption became Plan A ½. I hit a roadblock but I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Call it what you will—I found a loophole, a cheat, a backdoor, an alternative route—but I became a mom.

As long as I can remember, I wanted to write books. Well, not just write them. I wanted people to read the books I would write. I wanted to be an author. So I made a plan. I was going to write a book (check!), I was going to see if beta readers liked it (check!), I was going to query agents (check!), an agent would pick it up and sell it to a publishing house and I would be an author and people would read my book (uh…roadblock).

I had a lot of positive feedback from many literary agents, but no one offered to champion my book. I can’t say why. I’ve heard that the recession was hard on the publishing industry and no one wanted to take a risk on a new author. Maybe I never found the right agent. Maybe the publishing industry as a whole is changing. I suspect all those things.

I thought that my dream of being an author hinged on an agent’s approval of my work. But as I thought about how I “unconventionally” became a mom, I decided that I could unconventionally become an author. I was tired of people telling me no! I wanted to be in charge of my own destiny, and not be the victim of some external factors (like a bad uterus or a doctor’s opinion or an agent’s opinion).

And that’s how I decided to become an indie author. I wanted my work to sink or swim on it’s own. I wanted readers to decide what they read—not some agent or publishing house. I didn’t want to take no for an answer. I didn’t want to give up my lifelong dream just because I hit a roadblock. So I turned to Plan A ½ and found a “cheat” or a “backdoor” and became a published author. And when it comes down to it, I am more pleased with myself for the courage and tenacity I had to muster to become an indie writer than I am off the money I have made doing it.

Don’t take no for an answer. Plan A ½ is out there. Find it!