frankie's high seas birthday

Henry's first birthday was a handmade affair.  We kept the guest list small so we could make each person feel welcomed and special.  The invitations were created using Paper Source products and hand carved stamps. I used twine from The Twinery on the invites and the favor bags.  The ship on the cake was made of paper mache wood and fabric. I got inspiration from the whimsical ships of Ann Wood.  You can view full sized photos of the party on my Flickr.

happy birthday frankie valentine

You know the opening part of the movie Superman when the special space pod with baby Superman inside comes crashing down to Earth and scares the hell out of his adoptive parents?

That's how Henry arrived in our lives.  Not in a space pod, per say. But he did come crashing into our family like a bullet.

One year ago, I went to bed on March 18th the mother of two children and woke up on March 19th as the mother of three.  I had learned of Henry's birth at around one in the morning.  To say I was scared is a huge understatement.  Amelie was only ten months old.  I was beside myself.

And the Sugar Daddy was in Taipei.  

Holy smokes.  When I think back to that time all the emotion comes back to me. Even now, as I write, I feel the tightening in my chest.

I wish I had known what I know now.  I wish I could have foreseen the enormous joy that a four pound baby boy was capable of bringing into my life.

If Birdie is the cayenne pepper in our family, Frankie is the vanilla sugar.  He is the sweetest child I have ever met.  That sounds a little dramatic, but its completely true.  He was born with the kind of personality that makes you happy to just be around him.  I think he got the charisma that I always wanted to have myself.

God has never let us have any say in when our children joined our family. He likes to surprise us. Big  time.  We thought our third child would be coming from China. 

I never would have been able to imagine that a super baby would come barreling into our life from out of nowhere and inject our family with sweetness. 

Today, Henry turned one. We had a mini birthday with cupcakes. The big birthday party is planned for next Saturday when the Sugar Daddy is back in town.  When I put Henry in his crib to go to bed tonight he smiled at me and kicked his feet.  I stroked his hair and cried.

How did I get so lucky?

what? you got a problem with drool?

fortuity and the rise of frankie valentine

The strangest thing happens to me all the time. I'll meet someone, say a friend of a friend, and the first words out of their mouth are "Oh you're the girl that adopted two babies! Aren't they, like, under a year apart?" And I say, "Yes, yes that's me. And yes they are."

So now let me tell you why this strikes me as strange because you are probably sitting there thinking, well you are the girl who adopted two babies in under a year. What gives?

It's strange because I don't define myself that way at all. I can go for days, nay, weeks and not think about my children being adopted. People don't stare at us in public because we aren't the same color. They stare because we are a circus to behold.  I'm rarely reminded in my daily life that I didn't birth my babies.  

And that is why I find it very curious that other people hold onto that fact. It doesn't offend me in the least.  I don't expect other people to know the true nature of adoption until they have experienced it firsthand.  It's a spiritual concept that must be learned.  I just wish that if people are going to talk about me, and tell my story, could they also throw in that I make jewelry and do illustrations? Maybe pass out a business card or two?

I love that my babies are adopted. Truly.  What fortune our family has had! To most of the world, adoption might seem like a second choice option, but for those of us who have found our kids through atypical ways, we marvel at our good fortune to have been given a wondrous gift. The journey to adopt a child is a real life adventure tale, with magic and monsters and all sorts of battles.  To triumph at the end of the sojourn is the most amazing, relieving, incredible experience. Everyone should know such happiness.

On October 12th we will finalize Henry's adoption.  It seems like such a trivial thing. It only takes ten minutes before a judge.  It's hardly a blip on our family's lifeline. But it means that we can write the last page of our adventure tale and start a new story.

Speaking of stories, here's a true one: On the way to the hospital to see Henry for the very first time we had to pull over so I could throw up.

It was a mixture of medicine-induced nausea and panic over the thought that I might look at this tiny little boy and know that he wasn't mine.  We all know that isn't what happened. Seeing Henry for the first time was like looking at my own hands. He was mine in every way. Happy ending.

Everyday he changes and becomes more of a little person.  He has a scratchy little voice and a rather square head. He's the happiest baby I've known.

Here's another true story: When she was little, my mother-in-law lived next door  to a boy named Frankie Valentine.  She told me about Frankie and how years later, while walking through her living room, she caught sight of Frankie on T.V. He was all grown up, but it was him alright. He was a police officer.

Ever since I heard that story I can't look at Henry and not call him Frankie Valentine.

It's the perfect name for him. Half Baby Face mobster, half Eddie Munster.  All sweetheart.

somezing stronge

"Sometimes I say to myself, 'Enry, waz es going on ere? Somezing stronge indeed."

Meet Henry's alter ego, The Inspector.  He's a people watcher, that Henry.  And a very easy baby, thank the good Lord above, amen.

Henry is our little surprise. The bonus. The caboose.  

Funny how you are going along and you think your life is full, but there is something huge waiting for you just around the corner.

Sometimes that something isn't so great. 

And then sometimes its a squishy bundle of easy baby.  I tell you folks, this boy is everything that is right in the world all wrapped up in the softest skin you've ever felt.  Skin that is very, very fun to blow raspberries on, if I do say so.

I was rocking Henry while he slept. He started laughing. He laughed so hard he woke himself up. I wish I could see that again everyday for the rest of my life.  

P.S. I just want to add that if you are reading this, and you are a girl hoping and waiting for a baby, I have two things I want to say specifically to you. First, all of my babies were that something huge waiting around the corner. I have spent years yearning for my babies. Your corner is out there.  But until you turn the corner, enjoy the road.  Second, I am convinced that the joy and gratitude I feel as a mother is in direct correlation to the pain I endured in childlessness. Things always taste better when you are hungry. Everybody knows that.

i finished him off

I'm feeling pretty smug these days. My baby boy is chubby.

Do you know what an accomplishment this is for me?

Do you know the satisfaction I feel every time I find a new roll?

You see, the Lord gave me a little extra gift. Although Henry grew seven months in another girl's womb, the Lord decided to let me finish him off.

He arrived six weeks early and very skinny and weak and quite frankly a little pathetic. The Lord whispered to me, "Okay April. Here you go. Love him so that he grows strong."

And I set to work.

Today, my son is chubby and I feel one step closer to being the kind of mother I want to be.

The kind of mother the Lord thinks I can be.

concerning the girl we don't call birthmother

Here's the truth.

Sometimes it is hard to see the truth of a situation because of the circumstances.

Sometimes the facts muddle everything up and make a tender berry plant look like a pesky weed.

Sometimes the judgements of men destroy the beauty of truth.



We don't call the girl who gave birth to Henry "birthmother". She prefers we didn't. She has made it quite clear that the title of mother isn't hers to claim. She sees herself as a vessel in the hand of the Lord. Even in her darkest hour, she listened to the still small voice. She agreed to the path less taken. It is a path fraught with emotional brambles. She answered yes to this course.

She sacrificed her story so that we might begin ours.




The facts of the story are amazing and make for great chitter chatter. "She did what? And then this? Oh and did you hear..."

But here's the truth.

This our story. This is the story of the way our children came to our family. As a mother, this story sits deep in my heart. It is beautiful and miraculous and framed with type of love that only the people involved will ever experience. I would fight to the death to preserve the sanctity of it.

The true nature of adoption seems to be lost on most. It is a complex principal. It is an extended course of study for those that choose to undertake it.

The hospital social worker came by. She congratulated me on not having to go through the pain of birth. She questioned me down on the facts surrounding our sons birth. She made some observations.

I stood blinking back rage and wondering if she also pops into random offices on the University campus to offer up opinions on biomechanics and advanced engineering.

This is what I really want to say. This is what I want the girl we don't call birthmother to know. It's the truth as I know it.

Hey- It's you and us and the Lord. Everything else is confetti.

All photos by the photo zoo. Available here.

in limbo

1. stretch, 2. 100 yards., 3. essimar_paper_8, 4. wooden buttons detail, 5. sixteen eighty two, 6. Untitled, 7. in limbo, 8. Cherry-keh, 9. OUTSIDE THE FENCE


It seems to me today that the world is in limbo.

I'm watching the snow fall softly on my parents trees.

Is it spring? Is it winter?

I'm wondering when Henry will come home.

I'm wondering when our family will go home.

Together.

the thing about preemies...

...is that they are just a wee bit pissed about being thrown into this cold harsh world too soon.

Exhibit A:
I thought about snapping a few more pics of the other NICU residents to further illustrate my point, but I'm quite positive I would have been escorted out of the hospital by security.

They are sticklers, those nurses. If you so much as look in another child's direction you get the stink eye.

When Henry is awake, he acts like a little old man who has been interrupted while doing something very important. In this case, it's sleeping. It really puts him out to have to actually acknowledge that he is here on Earth.

However, he doesn't grumble too much and he allows me to kiss every inch of his head everyday. Which is more than can be said for the nurses.

Kissing is another stink eye infraction. You know, germs and all.

******************************************************

The little citizens of my world will be decked out in my favorite line of children's clothes for the Easter holiday.

Have you heard of Tea?

The new collection is inspired by Korea. It's irresistibly cute.

I wish the Easter bunny would bring me home a little grumpy Henry, but alas, I think he will be in the NICU for a while longer.

*sigh*

everyday

baby booties

Everyday I get up and get Birdie her bottle. I cuddle her in the dim morning light and let the events of the last week settle into my brain anew.

Everyday I spend twenty minutes arguing with the boy about getting in the bath.

Everyday I try to keep some form of organization in the room we are staying in at my parents house.

Everyday I figure out childcare for the hours that I am gone.

Everyday I drive to Salt Lake City, search for a parking spot, walk through the huge revolving door, ride the elevator, and navigate the maze to the NICU.

Everyday I sit with my son and the stress melts away and it is only us and the beeping of the monitor.

Everyday I wonder when my life will be "normal".

And everyday I feel more love for my family and more love for my son's birth family and I wonder how I got this lucky.

having it all, and a little bit more or maybe more aptly titled "second brother"

Sometimes I really think God is sitting up there in heaven missing me like crazy. He's doing his best to shock me to death.

The story I am about to relate is totally unbelievable but one hundred percent accurate. Make no mistake about it, humans couldn't think this up. Only God is capable of spinning a yarn so convoluted.

Last Thursday I was trying to figure out how to grow my business with a ten month old at my feet. Last Thursday I was sitting on my sofa lamenting my lack of time and energy to a dear friend. What a foolish girl I was.

At 1:24 a.m. Friday morning I learned that a girl had given birth to child. A boy.


A little boy was delivered via c-section around midnight. He was 4 lbs 10 oz. He was 17 inches long and perfect in every way if just a little underdeveloped.

And so I was notified in the middle of the night. I sat alone on the edge of my bed staring at the slanting street light streaming through my blinds.

I texted Ben. "Call me." He texted back. "I'm in a meeting." (He was in Taipei) I texted. "Call me now."

He said exactly what I had known he'd say. "She wants us? Is she sure she wants to place? I'm coming home. We are going to get our son."

We threw everything in the car, bundled up the boy and the bird and drove twelve hours to Utah.

I've been trying to put words to my emotions. Dazed doesn't cover it. Neither does shocked. Scared is an understatement. As is happy. It's a feeling I've never experienced and I wonder if it is similar how someone might feel when they die suddenly and find themselves surrounded by loved ones since past.

We named him Henry Wyatt Meeker.

When we laid eyes on this little piece of heaven, we knew that he was ours. It's an experience every person should be so privileged to experience. It's like smelling your mother's perfume or riding a bike down your childhood street. It's home.

He needs a little help breathing and eating. He will be in the NICU for a little while yet. And everyday I will drive a hour to see him, hold him and kiss him. And then I will drive an hour back to my parents house. Back to my other children, who are also riding this wild ride, but harbor no fear, only excitement, as children are want to do.

I tell ya, I feel some kind of stupid for writing the previous post. I'm a different girl today. Jewelry business? What jewelry business? Clean house? Tidy yard? Skinny jeans? Poohey.

I guess God doesn't really want me back anytime soon. He's keeping me pretty busy down here.