Divine Intervention

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a positive person. I often hear..."Geez Kels! What makes you so happy? Are you ever down?" Well, yes. I do have my crap days from time to time. But for the most part I am always on the bright side.  I use my great outlook to guide me to live in a good way. I love to help people, I volunteer for just about everything that involves my kids, I treat others the way I want to be treated and I know a smile makes me smile, so why not just do it randomly all day? Spread love, don't hate. This is how I was raised and this is how I choose to live. And it is a choice, believe me. It always takes more energy to be positive about something than it does to be negative, for me at least.

I recently expressed this happiness in a comment on a blog. You see, I thought  that I was answering a question about relinquishing children for adoption and how mothers felt about their decisions years down the line. Two decades is a long time and my views have changed over the years, so I made a comment. What followed was nothing short of a crucifixtion of my character. I had unknowingly entered what many would call an Anti-Adoption blog. No worries, the responses were nothing that I had not heard before and I calmly answered questions and squashed assumptions. More people popped up to shout out their disgust of certain words. I reassured them that I was not trying to be disrespectful, and I explained a little more about myself. Several more showed up judging me, and yet again I responded tactfully yet openly about my journey along with some of the issues that I faced. On...and on....and on, back and forth it went all week long. It was exhausting. The words were so harsh, the voices so disgusted that it just made my heart hurt the more I read. I could have stopped going back, I could have just let them talk, make accusations and twist my interpretation of my adoption experience. Most would say that I SHOULD have stopped going back. But just like I want to be heard for my positive view, I knew that they were looking for the same respect...to be heard.

It started to take its toll, I was feeling so down about adoption. I am not saying that they were changing my mind or anything, I was just aching learning what they had been through. You see, many of them did not have a choice like I did. Many of them were forced or coerced into giving up their children. I had such a different experience from them, I truly did make a choice for my children. I finally had to stop reading for a couple of days, just needed to breathe and enjoy what was in front of me...two boys who see the world in me. I, ever the positive, was needing a boost of love, I was needing a sign that what I was fighting for was right. I do not like to live in the negative, yet that was what was happening in just talking with these women. I needed something to show me that I was not wasting my breath. I needed some help in my heart. So like I often do, I prayed little prayers here & there and asked Him to help me speak clearly, speak with love for what I believe in, and speak the truths as I knew them in a way that they could all understand, or at least think about my words before judging me. I asked if there was even a point in going back, what could I possibly say that can help them see that I was a good person who overcame the sorrows and was now trying to help others understand adoption through a mother's eyes. I needed a sign to help lift my spirits.

Then it came. The day before Valentine's Day I sat at the computer returning emails from friends, and it came. My daughter, whom I placed 20 years ago, sent me an instant message just saying..."loved the last picture! you are too funny!" It was like a lightning bolt to my soul. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! No tears, no sadness, just a big jolt of love to my heart. We talked for about a half hour, well ... typed really. She was telling me some things about school, some things about what was going on in her life which I love to hear and she loves telling me. It was so wonderful to just be back in the positive, back in the light that I know can shine in my world because of adoption. I was smiling and typing away. I told her that I had been talking with some women who were not as fortunate in their adoptions as I was in ours. I explained, just briefly, how I got into the converstation. I then told her that I was so glad to hear from her, especially that day, because it was a boost that I needed in a bad way. She then told me 'You are the strongest person I have ever known. You are an inspiration to me. What you have been through was such a brave thing to do. I think you are amazing and I am so proud of what you have accomplished.' Great kid, huh? I thanked her and told her that I had to talk about the negatives as much as the positives because I want people to know that there is hope out there, there can be love and acceptance in adoption. She then said, 'I want people to know our story. I know you loved me and I love you for being you. I think what you are doing for adoption is wonderful and I love you for doing it.'

That was all I needed to hear. Within 30 minutes, a week of heartache ended with simple, beautifuly spoken, and much appreciated words from the one who matters most, my adopted child. She has the uncanny ability to say the best things at the most appropriate times, and I do not think it was a coincidence that she contacted me on that day. She said she was just thinking about me, but I think there were other forces in play there.  Prayers answered and heart revived! It was a wonderful Valentine's Day!

PS... I did not go in vain to the blog mentioned in this post. I give credit where credit is due, and several of the women on that post contacted me to say "Thank you for your insight, your voice, and your respect for all points of view." I thank you ladies for all that you shared with me.

Happy Thoughts... #5

Sometimes someone can say something to you that just makes your day. You know, they compliment you on something, a quality that you forgot you had, and you are reminded that you are making an impact in their lives. Sometimes, if you are lucky, someone can say and do something for you that will stay wtih you for the rest of your life. This is a musing of just such a person.

Dr. Joseph Boveri, Sr. was an OBGYN who was very well known in the St. Louis area. My mother, many of her friends, many of my family were patients of his, so when it was my turn to enter womanhood I too became his patient. When I say that he was well known, I mean he was VERY well known. Why? He was  a lover of women. He admired the whole being of women, from the amazing reality that their bodies created life to the wealth of compassion and strength that we seem to have. He himself had I believe six children and talked so lovingly of his wife. Italian, stout, brother or father figure with a comforting voice, and a bedside manner that would have you forget that the room was -10 degrees. He was like that trusted friend, that exceptional doctor that would spend 20 minutes with a patient to discuss options...his attitude was if you came to see him you had his attention. That was, unless, there were women in labor. Many times I sat in the waiting room with about 13 other women only to hear him asking for a room number and then watching him sprint out the office door to the causeway that lead to the hospital. We would all moan knowing we would have to reschedule because there was a delivery. We did not mind rescheuduling, not at all. We were moaning because we would not get to see him.

He was incredibly proud of me for choosing adoption. He always had a beautiful smile and warm welcome for me when we came in, asking me all kinds of questions about how I was feeling physically. He would do the exam, talk about nutritien and excercise and then he would ask me to get dressed and meet him in his office. I never waited long, no matter how busy he was, no matter how many women were there, he would meet me in his office after every physical check up. Closing the door, he would spend time asking how I was doing mentally, how I was preparing for the adoption. He asked about her parents, my family, what kind of reactions I was getting from people. He wanted to know that I was doing alright. He knew my mother for a long time and knew how strong I was. He always reassured me that he was proud of me, he believed in me and he would support me in any way he could. He was by far the BEST doctor I have ever had.

After my daughter's birth I was spending time with my daughter. Out of no where, this social worker came into my room, unannounced, and aksed "Are you Kelsey?" I said I was and asked who she was. WIthout answering she took my child from me and put her into the bassinet, then wheeled her into the hall. She called for a nurse to come and get the bassinet. She then came back into the room and told me that I had jepordized my child's future because I had called the parents to tell them their daughter was in the world. (These were the days before cell phones and all the communication so it was impossible to inform the agency on a weekend.) She was a horrible, disrespectful woman and she scared the hell out of me. "Your fault that this adoption will not happen .... That is not your child...You have no rights." These were some of the gems that fell from her mouth. She was disgusted with me, talking to me like I was a criminal. She started to open her briefcase and I was done with her! I picked upt he phone and called the nurses station. Miss Lovesquasher was asking what I was doing. The nurse came into the room and I polietly asked that this vile woman be removed from my room. She was rude as she left, things I will not repeat, but were not very lady like to say the least! I asked the nurse to call my doctor.

When Dr. Boveri came into my room I was a complete mess. I was totally freaking out and he was livid. He told the nurse to please contact the social worker and have her return to my room. He consoled me, apologized and promised that no one else would be in my room without his permission. He was visibly upset and a little flustered. Miss Lovesquasher returned with a smug look on her face. She was sure that the doctor was there to help her do the paperwork that she needed done, but she was in for a surprise. He told her that he did not know who she was but she had no business being in my room. She tried to retort but he quickly shut her up. He asked for her name, her badge number, the name of her supervisor and how long she had been a social worker. She took offense to the last question and asked why he wanted to know. In his ultra cool way, he told her that she obviously needed more training because her behavior and actions were grossly inappropriate. I thought she was going to cry. She was humiliated. He told her that no one was allowed in my room unless he knew about it and when the agency came on Monday, he wanted her there with supervision. He then told her that she had no right to do what she did and abuse of power is not a good quality to have. He then told her to leave.

He stood up for me. He was on my side and wasn't affraid to let people know that he valued me, valued what I was doing for my child. He was a hero that day to someone who felt lost, sad, and unsure of what she was doing. He put himself on the line to stand up and advocate for me as a birth mother. He truly cared that I had quality time with my daughter, even if it was for a short time. He was saying to everyone on that floor, 'Don't look at her any different than you would any other mother. This is her child, her life, her time. So let's leave her be and help her feel good about what she is willing to do.'

He was an incredible man and I am forever grateful that he believed in me. Thank you Doc, you were an angel when I needed it most.

Happy Thoughts... #4

As I have explained before, my first adoption was what now would be considered a semi-open adoption. When I placed all those years ago, what I asked for was a break through approached to adoption. I was asking to just know who my child was, and that was not so popular. In the late 80's there was a movement that started and pregnant women considering adoption were thinking more about the future, more about their role as the child grew. I was one of those revolutionaries that knew that I would be able to heal and get on with my life much better if I could see pictures of my child, hear how she was doing. Let me make a very clear point here, this was NOT how adoptions were done in those days. The system (and when I say that I refer to whole lot of them: the agency, the government, the courts, the lawyers, the social workers for the foster care & the State of Missouri) would have nothing like that. If they had it there way I would not know where they lived, who they were and God forbid ... who she was. It was a really horrible way to treat someone who is taking such a leap of faith in themselves that they are doing the right thing. It was a slap in the face and a degrading position to put me in. It was something that affected me and is the reason why I am trying my darndest to make a change in the after care for birth mothers. See there I go again, getting off track with my passion!

So, I fought to place with the a family that I had found all on my own and they understood my need to know my daughter and they were VERY supportive of that. All her life, they sent me pictures and a letter twice a year. I recieprocated with a grateful letter and once in a while a picture of me. When she was a year and a half, I met them at a neutral place and I spent about an hour with her and her family. It was wonderful, but I was recovering for a month after that. It was hard on my heart, I just wanted to hold her and tell her that I loved her all the time. When she was a little older I spent time with her again and we had a wonderful time.(See Happy Thought...#2 on this blog). Then came the call that she wanted to be in my wedding (that will be a future Happy Thought) and that was a glorious day! So, so, so proud I was that day. Then I saw her at a family wedding several years ago, after she had become a young woman and was fully starting to appriciate the concept of being adopted. She was so beautiful, such a wonderful, amazing soul. There was not a dry eye around us as we embraced for what seemed to be five minutes, more like two. It was like looking in a mirror, her eyes sparkled, her smile was brilliant and in that moment I felt truly happy. I could see that all the struggles, all the hours of heartache in missing her were validated. She looked at me with such admiration, such appreciation. My heart as well as my face was smiling that night. These were the only times that I physically saw her in her life, but I would always send her a birthday card and flowers, one rose for every year, to tell her that I was always thinking of her on her birthday...always.

So with only limited contact (but meaningfull contact) and a great set of parents who supported the idea that an adopted child should know where they came from (and they continued to supported me with their words of gratitude in every letter), this wonderful girl was allowed to form her own thoughts from the very begining of her life. How does she feel about me, about being adopted, about who she is? The following is an article that she wrote for her high school paper some years ago, so let's hear it in her words. All of the names have been changed so let's call my daughter Jordan.

Adoption: By Jordan Razzi and Julia Tellew

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be adopted? Some students here know for a fact what it's like. An unwanted prgnancy can be a miracle for a couple who are unable to have their won children. 4.5 million couples experience infertility each year. These couples are waiting to become parents and are wishing that their names would come up on the adoption lists. Most couples wait 2-3 years to adopt. Costs vary from an estimated $14,3000 to $28,000 depending on the country or agency. China and South Korea are the most popular choice for overseas adoptions. Although only one student at this school was adopted outside of the country. I caught up with a few students who have been adopted and asked them some interesting questions.

One student asked for their name to reamin anonymous, but still ansered the questions to the best of their ability. They said that "It made me feel good that someone would care that much about me to give me a happy life. I found out that I was adopted when my parents thought I was old enough. I appreciate all that my parents have done for me. It leaves no doubt in my mind what my life would be like if I was never adopted. I never even wanted to know who my birth parents were."

Another student that was adopted was JJ. He said that  "It does not make me feel any different toweards my parents. I found out that I was adopted through my grandma and then my mom told me. I do not know my birth parents and I have never wondered what my life would have been life if I was never adopted. I appreciate what my parents have done for me."

Senior LD was adopted from overseas. "I was 3 years old. I found out that I was adopted when I was seven. I was put up for adoption because my mom couldn't afford to live there. I know my birth mom. We talk about once every two weeks. She married my birth father. She says she would like to attend my graduation. I have two other adopted siblings. Adoption is a good thing and I am glad I came to America."

"As for me, I have known that I was adopted ever since I could remember. I have known my birth mom since I was little and was even in her wedding. She put me up for adoption because she grew up without a father figure and she wasn't married at the time, and didn't wnat that for me. We talk periodically and last year I had the chance to see her for the first time in seven years. I can't even begin to explain the feelings I felt when I saw her. It is very cool to have another set of family members that live in different areas. Being adopted makes me feel so blessed, I have a family that loves and supports me in everyting that I do" says Jordan Razzi.

WOW! I was floored when I received this. What a great attitude she has. What a wonderful thing for her to say about adoption. What an amazing soul she is. She gets it, she knows that I loved her enough to let her go and live without me. I let my heart walk without me, and my heart was soaring. Once I finished my book, I sent her one as a gift and she absolutely loved it! She encouraged me to share it with the world and tell everyone of how great our relationship has been. She even used my book as the subject of the first speech she had in school this year. She is so proud of me, so proud to be adopted. How can I not be proud that what I fought for has such a happy ending? How can I NOT share this story with all of you? How can I NOT advocate for the birth parents out there, to make a change in the system so that everyone who is considering placing their child for adoption will have a chance of a good outcome like I have? How can I NOT use my voice to speak out for so many who want to place for adoption and are left to wonder ... "Can I have an adoption that is open and honest?" You bet you can! You most certainly can.

I am beyond proud, I am at peace.

Happy Thoughts... #3 ~ A Rose is a Rose

I went to California for my second placing. I had placed my daughter for adoption two years earlier in Missori and it was not a very pleasant experience for me. Now, I was 2,000 miles from home ... away from family, away from friends and away from my boyfriend. I was staying with family and they were wonderful companions at a very difficult time for me. I love being in California, the mountains, the ocean, the laid back way of life. It was a change that I needed, a change that would help me come to terms with my role as a mother at 21. I felt I had found a place that spoke to me, that showed me how beautiful life is, how beautiful the world is. I was removed from all that I had known. It is amazing what you can discover when that happens.

The time came to welcome the twins into the world. Their parents were there for the labor experience.  I am a very pleasant person, likable, funny, smart, in other words ... a lady in every sense of the word.

That is until I am in labor. This wonderful couple was in the hospital room with me as I became a sailor from 1492 spewing curse words that would make Backbeard blush.

I was not only saying them, but at times I was vocalizing across the room in a guteral voice that was straight from the bowels of The Exorcist. It is odd, I am not sure how other women out there handle that kind of dialation, that type of primal pain. It just took me over just as it had done when I had my daughter. The difference was, I was now displaying this barroom broad to folks that were going to raise a little piece of me. I am sure they were shocked, hoping that their child was not born with a mowhawk and Marlboro hanging out of their mouths. The nurse was so nice, she was playing right along with me ... "That's it! Get it out, let it all out." I had no epidural, no assistance with the pain. This was the brilliant plan of my doctor who I know was dictating the labor for very good reasons, but I was not liking the decision to do it all sans drugs. None the less, I buckeld down and delivered them within 10 minutes of each other. Both were healthy, good sized boys. The best part was that their parents were right there by my side to witness the moment that they were in the world.

I have no idea what the adopting parents were doing or the expressions on their faces when the first boy was born, even though they were right there. I was concentrating on pushing my lungs into my colon. The first time I remember seeing their dad was when the nurse was telling the doctor all the info about baby boy1 and I said ..."Go and meet your son." I smiled at him and he looked like an angel, just glowing with happiness. I then looked at her and said ... "Ready Mom?" I then gave birth to a second healthy boy and watched as she saw her dream of a family come true. I got to see the moment that she realized she was once and for all a mom, and it was beautiful. My cousin who was there with me as my coach was also touched, you see she and her husband had just adopted a boy a year earlier. She and her husband were not there when their son was born so for her to also witness the birth of a baby was very special for her. She told me I was amazing, thanking me over and over for asking her to be there with me.

So in that 10 minute period a family was born, a mother was made, a father was proud, another adoptive mother learned the sacrifice that HER birth mother went through and I was rather taken back with the powerful moments of it all. I had touched so many lives in that moment, made so many happy that my feelings of sadness were a little lighter, and I realized that my baby boys would be loved and cared for. I was thinking about the smiles that those boys were going to bring to their parents for so many years to come.

The next day I awoke from a nap to the most beautiful bouquet of roses I had ever seen. There was a card, so I opened it.
"Thank you for giving my brother a family. You have made me an aunt and I am forever grateful for your kind heart. May you be blessed always..."
I then realized that I had touched so many more than who was in that room with me. I knew that my boys would be so loved in life. I took a deep breathe and the smell of the roses had filled the room.

Everytime I smell a rose, I smell a little longer and think of my boys and it is always accompanied by a smile.

Kelsey Stewart is the Author of The Best For You

Happy Thoughts...#2 _ Words Help Heal the Soul

Several years after my daughter was born, I had the opportunity to spend some time with her and her siblings. I never made requests to see her growing up, the short times I spent with her were always instigated and set up by her parents. I mention this because not everyone has the same circumstances when it comes to open adoption. My terms were: I sent letters and pictures at Christmas and  on her Birthday I sent a card with flowers. Her parents, in turn, would send updates around the same times along with pictures. Only on several occasions, when they found themselves in my hometown, did they arrange physical contact. It was a good compromise for everyone. My daughter knew who I was, she was fine with spending time with me ... in fact she really liked seeing me ... and her parents were just wonderful in their support of me. They always made sure that she knew that I loved her and wanted to know about her.

This day was a warm spring day, beautiful sunshine, great temperature ...  just a perfect spring day. I was meeting her and her family at the home of a relative and the plan was that we would watch her and her brothers while the parents went to the baseball game. My mother came along, I think she was more excited about it than I was!, and we were amazed at how personable my daughter was with us. She was off and running, talking a mile a minute, asking me all kinds of questions. She had just turned 5 and she was the spitting image of me. She would ask me something and then just look at me, really look at me. She would study my face, look at my nose, watch how my mouth moved when I spoke. She was grinning from ear to ear the entire time we were together. We played games with her and her brothers. We did some gymnastics on the wrestling mats that were out on the floor, she tumbled all over that thing like a little bunny, what a wonderful thing to watch! I was on cloud nine, not overly excited but smiling myself just as big as she was. We had some pizza, talked about school and friends and life in her town, she was an incredible communicator and so natural. Not one of us in that house that day had any anxiety, no awkward moments, no shame or odd looks. We were just hanging out, enjoying each other...it was fantastic.

We were taken back into the room with the mats so we could watch more gymnastics, mainly my daughter and her endless energy, and I was sitting on the couch next to her older brother. There was a lot of excitement going on. She was hilarious, totally entertaining everyone in the room. We were laughing and clapping, encouraging her flipping madness. It started to settle down a bit and my mother was on the floor with her talking about things. I was so enjoying watching my mom spend time with her. Some don't think about the parents of the birth parents and what their journey is like. I know it was very difficult for my mother to watch me all those months, years, helpless and yet feeling her own grief. My mother lit up when she talked about me and my daughter, and to watch mom play with her granddaughter was one of the best memories that I have, ever. I felt so happy that she was able to have the opportunity to spend time with her first grandchild. I looked to my left and began to talk to her older brother. School, sports, interests in music were some of the topics we discussed. He was a very pleasant kid, polite and funny. He asked me about what my job was like, what I studied when I was in school and if I had played any sports when I was a kid. We got to know each other just a little bit, and again, it was not uncomfortable or weird. Soon my daughter was up and tumbling again. Like before, she was very entertaining. After a particular tumbling pass, she bowed like she was a star and we started rolling in laughter. It was just the way she did it, believe me, it was funny! I leaned back on the couch and looked at her brother. He was smiling and watching her.

He then looked at me and said ... "Thank you."
I said "For what?"
He was still smiling and he looked at her getting ready to jump and roll again. He then looked back at me and simply said ... "Thank you for my sister."
I wanted to burst into tears. What a wonderful thing to say to me. He was only about 10 years old and I was astounded at his compassion at such a young age. I know he wanted to say so much more, but he didn't. He was looking at me, telling me with his eyes and facial expression that he was sincere. I couldn't talk for a minute, I was fighting back tears of joy. I know they were welling in the bottom of my eyes and I was trying not to let them drop. He smiled, then nodded as if to say 'it's okay'. I took a deep breath and said ... "Thank you for loving her."

My heart was light for months after that. I was so thankful that he had the courage to say that to me. It meant the world to me. I don't know if he remembers saying it. He may not even remember that day. I do. I will always remember that day. It was a huge healing for my spirit, and more proof that I had made the right choice placing her with her family.

I thank you for being such a great brother to her, then and now.

Happy thoughts...#1 The Nurse

Well if I am going to advocate for the positives of adoption, I guess I should start telling positive stories! I am starting a series of blogs containing some of the wonderful things that have happened to me as a birth mother. Let's start with this....

After my daughter was born, I was in a private room in the hospital and feeling quite sad and lonely. I knew that I only had a few days with her and my heart was torn between my guilt and my joy. I always had a smile on my face, that is the kind of person I am, but that smile was hiding a broken spirit within. they were keeping the baby in the nursery because I had a dry birth and she was needing attention. (Dry birth ...  my water broke 24 hours before she was born. When the water is absent for that long, it becomes dangerous for the baby because the amniotic fluid is not present to protect from bacteria and germs. It is also a very difficult delivery for the mother because without the fluid the uterus has to contract harder and longer to push the baby out.) The entire nursing staff was accomidating me because they were all so impressed with the decission I had made to place my baby for adoption. I think they were trying to make me as comfortable as I could be so that I could really enjoy the limited time that I had with her. I took a nap and when I woke up one of the nurses was bringing her in.

The nurse was very pretty and had an unforgetable smile. She set me up with all that I needed and she left us alone. After a few hours my daughter was asleep and I was exhausted so I called the nurse station to ask them to take her to the nursery. The same nurse came in and I was still holding my daughter. She came up and rubbed her little head and told me how absolutely beautiful she was. I thanked her and I put her into the crib, I covered her and tucked her in and stepped back. The nurse stood there for a minute and I told her it was alright to go. She started toward the door and then stopped. She turned to me and said "I know that I would get into trouble for saying this...but I think what you are doing is an amazingly selfless thing to do at such a young age. I have worked here a while and I cannot tell you how many girls I see come through here, younger than you, and they keep these babies for all the wrong reasons. I just want to grab them and shake them to wake them up and tell them that there are other alternatives. What you are doing for this family is so amazing. You will hear some horrible things from people who judge you for what you are doing, don't listen to them. I would like to ask that you promise me something." She was now very passionate and I could see the compassion in her eyes through her tears. "What is it?" I asked. "I want you to promise me that from now on, until the day you die, I want you to promise me that you will celebrate Mother's Day. Do something nice for yourself, be good to you every Mother's Day because that is a day that is custom made for women like you. You are an incredible mother and I want you to be proud of yourself." I told her that I would and she grabbed me and gave me a quick, tight, squeeze of a hug and then composed herself.

This was a complete stranger telling me what a difference I had made. I was taken back by her honesty and her utter unconditional understanding of what I was going through. I wish I could find her and tell her that she made an impact on me at a time when I needed acceptance the most. I will never forget her or her words. It is 20 years later, and I am still telling people about this wonderful woman who lifted me up when I was needing it, and helped a heart heal a little more with the kindness of a stranger.