Camping & My First Blind Date

I am seriously so lucky to have my friends! I have two amazing best friends, and their boyfriends love me too. It makes being a third wheel always so enjoyable.

This past week, I was able to go camping with best friend Rachel and her boyfriend Cameron (who I've known since high school.) He found a great spot out in Carnation for us to spend our 3 days - 2 nights near the Tolt and Snoqualmie rivers. 

It was so fun getting away from it all, even though we didn't fully disconnect. Being out in nature is such an amazing reset button. We had all day to talk about anything besides work! Weird fact about me: I LOVE climbing trees. So Rachel always held my camera while I messed around. 

And then comes the blind date. My other best friend Shaleena has been pretty adamant about me leaving my ex in the dust. She went on a walk with me a couple weeks ago and was telling me about how much it sucks watching me constantly be in pain for something he had done, and yet I still was choosing to be around him, that I wasn't respecting myself enough to get out and be out. Same speech I've heard from everyone, but it was so heart-wrenching seeing how much it stressed her out that I wouldn't help myself. She ended up talking with her boyfriend (my coworker) about it, and he decided to set me up with one of his friends on a blind date. And it was incredible. I haven't had that much fun EVER. Dinner + drinks + bowling with the three of them was such perfection. And the guy was just the nicest person ever. 

But then... Remember from my last post that God/Karma/Life always has to come in to make sure you're not happy. Shaleena and I had to pee like 3 different times at the bowling alley, and one of the times, there was a sweet Mexican baby getting changed. As I was waiting, I was just admiring this sweet baby and listening to his mother speak to him in Spanish.  And then I couldn't handle it anymore; I had to get out of there. Shaleena came rushing out after me and I just stood there and cried for a good 5 minutes while she hugged me. There is a trigger every day that just hits me a little too hard to hold in. It felt so good to have a shoulder to cry on though, someone who doesn't make me apologize for feeling what I feel, someone who validates my emotions, but then also helps me pull it together and keep living in the now instead of the constant "what ifs?" that will never be answered.

I miss my sweet mexi-baby so much. It is agonizing. I want to see him so bad, but it has only been a month so I can't ask. And anyway, I want to hold him how I remember him, as a fresh newborn. 

I've been having such horrible nightmares about losing Ben. And I want them to stop and they just don't. So I tried melatonin so I wouldn't have time to think about horrible things before I went to sleep and nothing works. 

In better news though, I got professional pictures of me done by Poppi Photography. SHE IS SO AMAZING. I know I'm not ugly or anything, but she made me feel and look so stunning in every shot. And she's so kind and knowledgeable. Basically, that session was a small piece of heaven. 

By Poppi Photography

By Poppi Photography

By Poppi Photography

God / Karma / Life

I have an opinion, a strong one, about God, or karma, or maybe it's just life throwing buckets of lemons (although I like lemons, so lets make it alcohol, because that needs to get mixed with your lemonade to be good.) Any time, any day, any particular second where I think in my head, "I might actually be happy with where I am in my life," God/karma/life answers quite promptly with several new lemons.

I love my baby. He is mine. He is hers. We are his mothers. Our motherhood is very different. But together, we are motherhood. I will never say that I'm his real mom, or that she is his real mom. We are both very real. When I get to see Ben, I have absolutely no intention to ever go to him and say that I'm his mother, too. That is something that he will grow to understand as he learns more about what adoption is, and how he fits in to the puzzle. That will be taught by Ann and Derek however and whenever they decide.

Then comes my lovely father's opinion. According to him, I should stop seeing my child: because it's confusing, because it's unnecessary, because I need to move on.
The other day, he had reconnected with an old friend on Facebook and they were catching up, asking questions about if we were still a part of the church (to which he replied "mostly solid" lol) and then he asked my dad how many grandchildren he had.... "a 5 year old and my next daughter just had her first in March." That almost sounds like his daughters have collectively only had two children. Funny. Because I totally remember getting pregnant, being very pregnant for like a perfect 40 weeks, having a natural delivery, getting stitches and everything. I mean I even got to breastfeed a couple times. This is a baby that has half of my genetic code. But I guess all those experiences don't count as having a child, at least one that's not in any way related to him. Weird. I must have skipped that part of biology. Cool.

This all came at a time where I was feeling good about life; I had literally just seen my sweet baby. And the second I thought about how good I was feeling, God/karma/life wanted to make sure I remembered that Ben doesn't exist in this family, he doesn't even have a name (besides a derogatory "big-head") in this family. And he can't be talked about in this family without divulging his illegitimacy and placement with his "real parents who actually love him." I fought with the rest of my family about their lack of love and support, and naturally, they all defended themselves.

Personally, if you love someone, truly, then don't EVER suggest that they give up their baby. You fight for them to have what they want, and if they want to have this baby, then fight on their side to make it simple and joyful and full of love.
Don't make them a statistic: "did you know that a gazillion% of teenage mothers end up screwing up their lives if the keep their kid?", or "did you know that it's statistically proven that your child will be totally effed up if you keep it because he won't have a father and you're a horrible excuse for a mother?" I'm not making this up you guys, I was told these things to my face several times.

My family says they were supportive of the decision I made (adoption.) I guess they forgot about the times where I was lying on the ground in fetal position begging them to let me keep my baby. And also that time when I was in the hospital weeping over my sweet baby's head begging everyone that could hear me to let me keep my baby. If that isn't my obvious desires, I must not have been crying and hyperventilating enough.

"Baby mine, you are so precious to me; cute as can be."

My Blue-Headed Baby

I'm so obsessed with my baby!

The other day at work, I got the best of surprises! AnnMarie texted me asking to meet halfway for a lunch in the park (because we always do that, and it's always amazing.)

So, yesterday, me and my best friend Rachel drove to Ellensburg. We were a little early, so I had to stop myself several times from looking for their car. Twenty minutes later, I see my blue headed baby bouncing through the parking lot towards me! We got our sandwiches, then drove to the park where we played, talked and took pictures for four hours. And it was perfect. Ben LOVES his dad, so he didn't really want to hangout with me. He did like my camera though, so he sat on my lap and played with all the buttons. Rachel even got to walk around and have one on one time with him. Ben makes everyone happy instantly and he has the biggest smile. They just lost their dog to cancer, so when Ben saw one in the park, he went and held the sweet puppies face just like he used to do with Andy.

You guys, adoption is so special. I wish Ben liked me more, but I'm hoping that will come with age. But his parents are unimaginably perfect. I know I chose them after I read about them and met with them, but I am SO lucky to have them, for Ben to have them. While we were at the park, we saw a perfect example at horrible parenting. The mom was yelling at her kids and being so aggressive. I almost wanted to protect her baby from her. But Ann & Derek? They are everything good. Especially Derek, he shares his cookies with me!

Also, he gets his helmet off at 18 months, which is only 5.5 weeks away!

And this is our sweet little family. I love them with all my heart.

Let Me Grieve

A long and arduous journey towards continuing existence, and hopefully, a better existence.

Denial.
I remember waking up every morning, my eyes swollen shut from crying the night previous, but for a few seconds of confusion, I couldn't remember what my life had become. It's like the first night I woke up in Logan, I looked around and couldn't figure out where I was or how I got there. That was my life now. I woke up, forgetting all the pain. I remember brief moments where I couldn't even remember being pregnant; maybe it isn't real, maybe this is just a horrible dream--until I couldn't because the stitches, the backache, the paleness of my face from blood loss. This couldn't have happened. I would never let anyone touch my baby and make me give him away. There's no way I would walk away from him. Why did I walk away? What is wrong with me? I want him back. Surely, I can get him back. Right? Please? I don't want to do this. I promise I'll give him the world. I just want my baby.

Anger.
Why did this happen? Why was Andrew so freaking selfish? I wish I didn't love Ann & Derek so much. Why. are. they. so. perfect. Why does God hate me? I hate all these stupid, happy, pregnant women. I hate all the sympathetic looks; if you want me to feel better, then give me back my baby. If I see one more pregnant teenager, I will punch someone in the face. Wait, she had an abortion?! What is wrong with her?! Why is everyone so ignorant and uneducated? I hate everyone. I hate this world. I hate my life. I really hate God. Why am I still alive? I can't figure out how I'm still living through this. All I feel is pain.

Apathy & Emptiness.
I feel nothing. I have no purpose. Why even continue when everything I'm putting off for everyone is a lie. Let me sleep, because then I can forget. Well, I'll have endless nightmares, but even they are better than reality. Where is my baby. He's growing so much, I don't even know him anymore. I'm a worthless piece of nobody.

Accountability.
I may have gotten pregnant in high school, I could have been a teen mom, maybe I should have made better choices, maybe I should have seen it coming. Whatever. I know who I am. No one else knows the whole story. They'll be judging me based on a mixture of truth, gossip, my lies, their lies, ignorance and assumptions. I know who I am. I know what happened. I love my boyfriend. I knew pregnancy was a possibility, but I thought we were being careful enough (after all, it's not like I could ask for birth control because I'm fucking Mormon. I'll rant about this in a later post probably.) I stayed healthy for my child throughout my pregnancy. He was my priority. I continued to Utah State University for more education, paying my way through it, then paying off my loans quickly. I came home when my health and the baby's health were in question. I chose parents for him. I researched them, I met them, I loved them. They are better parents than so many that I know. I had a baby, without a working epidural, and I placed him in a different car than my own 27 hours later. I did that. I did all of that. By myself. I know who I am. I know what I did. I am still standing.

Reformation.
I refuse to be who they think I should be. I refuse to walk like, talk like, act like them. I will be me. I will love my boyfriend despite what other's think. I will work, to pay off loans and save for my future. I will not go to church and pretend like I agree. I will be a photographer. I will work my butt off and I will be me. I will be a mother, a birth mother, a lover, and a fighter. I will burn bridges cruelly with those people who are worthless in my life.

Forgiveness.
I will forgive Andrew for not taking responsibility. I will forgive myself for making the decision to break my own heart. I will forget the people who said they would be here for me when they were endlessly against me.

Hope & Reclamation.
I will be in love and hope to be loved by Andrew. I will love my son with all my heart, hoping one day he will love me too. I hope I will see him and his family often. I hope they will never shut me out of our open adoption. I will return to a former, but better state. I will be positive for the future as I have been for the past two years. I will defy the odds and the bonds of statistics. I am not just one of the three in ten American teenage girls to get pregnant before they turn 20. I am more than just one of the 52% of pregnancies that were unintended. I am of the 2% that chose adoption for my son. I have grown to be so much more than a statistic, and so much more of a woman than others my age (even the married ones) who will never understand, and can never fathom what I have gone through.

There is so much I wish I could explain about my life, the paths that I've landed on (by my choice or as a result of other's choices) and how I got to be here, standing taller than ever. But then I would feel like I have to make you understand, like I have to prove to you that I'm not just a statistic. I am more than I have ever been. I did not choose everything that has happened, but I took it and handled it the best I could. I'm stronger in some ways, and weaker in others. I'm not whole; I don't think I ever will be. I am who I am. I will always defend my actions, and his actions and our choices. If you hate me, leave. I am not afraid to let you go. I'm tired of lies and misunderstandings and gossip and faking it.

I might even be happy. I love my job (yay to a promotion!) I love my boyfriend, I love my baby and his family. Love will win.

Beautiful Benjamin

Today, I got to see my baby! It's been 4 months since they came here. I wanted to do this trip by myself, to have all my focus and attention on Ben and not have to deal with anyone else but our little adoption family. HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL YOU GUYS. And as much as he looks just like the pictures, the real deal is so much better. He has my raspy voice, taste for sour lemons and big brown eyes and skin tone. But oh my goodness does he look like Andrew. Genetics are amazing and babies are miracles.

One of the last things Andrew said to me was to not go see Ben without him; I just couldn't do that because he's my baby and I didn't want to sit there convincing him to interact with the baby instead of just staring at him like he always does. As I was playing with Ben and watching him walk around at the park, I had a little glimpse in my mind of what it could've been: Andrew and I holding each other, watching our son proudly, and kissing him until he was laughing super hard. And in that moment, I was so glad I was there alone so that I didn't go running back to our toxic relationship.

When we first arrived after a short trip to the Columbia River Temple, Ben was just waking up and wouldn't come to me (stranger danger.) I was pleasantly surprised that it didn't hurt. I think I've been walking around on eggshells to protect myself, but I think I'm the one making it worse by conjuring up feelings that don't need to exist. There are still really bad days where I hate the world, and everyone but my baby. As they pass, though, and I can really look at it in the broad spectrum of things, I see not only a beautiful baby, but a beautiful family that I helped create.

All in all, it was a beautiful day filled with love, good food and great conversation. I had the chance to talk to Ann about some adoption things, to get her side of the story, and other topics that have actual depth. I have so many things to say, but adoption is one of those things that I want to discuss with people who have lived it; I thrive when there is true empathy, when people actually understand because they are in the same boat as me. She said something that really healed me, "I don't think I could love Ben any more than I do now if he was my biological son. I don't even desire to be pregnant because he is everything I could've wanted." Can you be more perfect, Ann? Benjamin really is their son, you can see and feel the love they all have for each other from a mile away, or in my case from 200 miles away. As I observe their little family, I see them as a normal, happy family that I dream of having one day. How can I be angry at the world if this family exists?

I have the best adoptive parents ever.

P.S. the blue helmet he wears is to correct a flat spot on his head due to torticollis. He wears it everyday, and is allowed to have it off for about an hour each day. He's so happy, and doesn't mind it at all.

Change of Plans...

I just want to start out by saying, my mouse died while writing this, and using a touch pad is a lot more difficult then I remember. 

I’m at a moment in my life where the choices are finally mine to make, and I keep searching for someone else to make them for me. I’ve never held reigns with this much responsibility before, and moving is a huge jump to take that can have major consequences. I’m trying to keep myself busy, trying to find excuses to stay, looking around at the people I know and silently pleading for one of them to love me enough to beg me to stay.

Nope.

Today is a perfect example of my ridiculous reality. I’m one of those people that is never late, I have a calendar on my phone that is gospel, and I will always arrive at least two minutes early to ensure I don’t have to deal with the tension of feeling late. I make plans, I keep them. I don’t remember ever canceling plans, especially the day of.

Today, I had two wonderful things I was going to be able to do: go to Coulon and talk to Andrew about something (I still have no idea what,) where I was going to arrive early and take pictures on my 35mm film Minolta, and the second thing was to hang out with my friend, let’s call him A2, who was my boyfriend for a week in January before he dumped me for no apparent reason. But it’s okay, I’ve gotten two self-help books since then that I read religiously.

Basically, they both canceled on me, TODAY, THE DAY OF. I understand that not everyone cares about schedules, or they leave things up to their current mood (which is BS) but I mean, am I not even worth the respect of either more notice, or perhaps keeping the plans despite your mood because hey, they might actually matter to me? I’ve been looking forward to my hang out with A2 all week, because I still really, really like him! I took him out to dinner on Monday and he was the one to ask me to hang out later in the week, and I was stupid enough to get all excited thinking, “Oh my goodness, A2 himself actually wants to be with little, inadequate, me.” Lol, NOT.

So, in my misery, I started looking at jobs at a Kroger company store called Fry’s in Arizona; turns out they’re hiring. So, now that it looks like I’ll easily have a job lined up, moving should be pretty simple; I’ll just live with Jen for a bit until I’m settled into my new reality and then I’ll be off, alone, but being solely me. And it shouldn’t bother people up here too much, it’s not like they want to be with me when I’m a 3 minute drive away, so what’s another 1,113.81 miles? 

Rebirth

Look how big he's getting!

Arizona is UH-MAZING. Every single time I come here, I throw up my hands and tell everyone that I’m staying, no one can drag me back to the monotony of Renton. Basically, that’s where I am again in my life. Should I stay or should I go?

On leap day, I left on a beautiful airplane to fly to Mesa so that I could photograph the live birth of my sister’s little girl coming into this world. We arrived a whopping 6 hours before heading to the hospital. It was perfect timing. Pictures are here. It’s only been a year since I had Ben, so being up close and personal to the hospital experience so soon was a recipe for disaster. Natural birth is the most difficult thing I’ve had to experience in my life, and watching my usually strong sister fall apart during her labor broke me; I was sobbing, I could not handle seeing her in so much pain, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do to alleviate her agony. Realizing this made me think: how could Andrew, the man who supposedly loved me, just watch me give birth to his child, screaming in pain, begging to keep my baby, falling apart in every way. He slept, he ate, he neglected helping me through it all. If I’m sobbing for my sister’s pain, what does that mean for him when he basically didn’t even care about my labor and birth experience? HUGE RED FLAG, BECCA.

Let’s do some more comparisons, because that bitterness solves everything… when Kensleigh was born vs. when Ben was born

1: K: the mother had a loving, devoted husband who stayed by her side and helped her through her pain and encouraged her to press on.
B: “Hey boyfriend who got me pregnant and is now making me give up my child, where are you? Yes, I do need your help. No, I want to keep my baby.”

2: K: there was full family support; a love for the mother and her unborn baby.
B: the family fully and unconditionally supported… making the mother give up her baby. Said baby will be forevermore referred to as “the mistake” or “big-head” because using his name would be too respectful of his existence. 

3: K: the nurses fully supported the mother and kept her focused on the birth, reminding her that it will all be worth it in the end when she had her baby.
B: The nurses fully supported the mother on a healthy birth. Just the birth. Because let’s be honest, with all the family support, it’s not like she’ll get more than her 27 allotted hours.

4: K: people praising the mother, for her attitude and strength (despite saying that she wanted to give up); and of course for her perfect baby.
B: No one talks of her birth experience; hell, not everyone even showed up to meet the baby or congratulate a NATURAL FREAKING BIRTH that not once did the mother say she wanted to give up. (I would be in labor forever if it meant I got to keep Ben.)

5: K: hope and excitement for the future.
B: Anxiety, hopelessness, disappointment, love. There was nothing to be happy about after that 27^th hour.

I know I’m being dramatic, but it’s brutally honest. Family sucks. I mean no ill towards my sister or her experience; it’s not fully her fault. But really?! Both my child and hers were conjured up before marriage, but only hers is legitimate? Is a quick cover up wedding the cure-all for getting pregnant? Would my dad still think my child and I are a mistake if I married Andrew? Oh my gosh guys, he actually had the balls to tell me this, “I didn’t come meet your kid because I wanted you to see it was a mistake and move on. You shouldn’t be depressed and have to distract yourself from the pain, you should just get over your mistake, never do it again and move on. You needed to give him away to the people that actually love him.” Are. You. Serious.

The amount of absolute agony of what I continue to go through is unfathomable to those ignorant, arrogant fools.  It’s not only that they don’t care how I feel, it’s also that they think what I’m feeling is wrong.

Beside all that, though, is a different type of rebirth, a huge change. Ever since I put my faith and total trust in God when I approached him with my pregnancy, and his answer broke me, I started to shy away from Him, from His gospel. How could I stay faithful when it was His answer to my prayer that has devastated me? My faith in His plan for me has almost killed me (by my own hand.) How can I continue to respect his “timing” when he has me give up my child, but allows my sister to keep hers? I even asked a missionary in my sister’s ward “Why does God pick and choose who to bless?” and he wrote back to me since we were in the middle of testimony meeting; his answer was predictable, true but predictable, “God has a plan for us, trust in his timing.”

I’ve started reading self-help books, cynical ones at first that basically tell me to get my head out of my butt, then some C. S. Lewis for a more philosophical, religious approach. Well, the bad days still hit, and they hit hard. So I stepped out of my misery, and found a different book. It’s called “Beautiful Uncertainty” by Mandy Hale. The synopsis hit me hard (I do judge books by the cover, but the synopsis is KEY.) “Whether you’re idling in stubborn sinfulness or walking in seeming never-ending singleness or living with any sort of waiting: Waiting for love, waiting for babies, waiting for marriage, waiting for a cure, or a miracle, or a sign, or for GOD . . . I hope my journey will make the wait a little easier and the uncertainty a little bit more beautiful.”

So I started reading it on my little vacation, and I tried out some different, less formal ways of communicating with Heavenly Father. In the LDS church, we are taught to pray a formal, but non-repetitive prayer. But the other night, I sat on my bed and stared at the other side of the bed like Heavenly Father was sitting there with me, and I just talked to Him. Actually, I was kind of mean to Him for breaking my heart, and I cried a lot. But it was nice, it was a change. I don't know if I can ever get back to being the shining example, or being full of faith and love that I once was, but at least I'm giving it another chance; a rebirth into belief that maybe he can hear formal and informal prayer, out loud or in my heart.