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Dear Love,


adoption is love tee

Dear Love,

I know that you come in different forms. You have come with heartache, pain, depression, grief, happiness, joy, selflessness, and peace. You have been an ongoing emotion the past five years since placement. You have made me feel emotions I never thought were possible to feel before. Yet the one emotion that I cherish most with you is peace. I have learned to love the acceptance of having peace with you. I will not lie that when I decided to place it was scary. People would constantly ask me why. People felt the need to lecture me and tell me all the cons about placing. I would always say “I’m doing this out of love”. Yet many didn’t get it, since if I loved Ava as much as I claimed to have, then why wasn’t I just keeping her and embarking motherhood with her. I had to educate that love comes in many forms. I chose to love Ava in a selfless way. A way to watch her grow from a distance and let her have the love I knew she deserved, a healthy and loving home. A positive environment. The love that I had always longed for as a child. The love that makes you feel safe. The love that I knew that I lacked to give. Yet it’s you Love that has helped me get through those hellish dark days. It’s you that has helped me grieve in a way I never thought was possible. This love that I have will never go away, it will continue to grow as each day passes by. It’s you that helped make my choice a little bit less painful. It’s the fact that I had you on my side. To help my mind think clearly and not be blinded by wanting to be selfish. Placing has its ups and more downs than I wished it did. You taught me that I love her each day as I wake and each night as I lay down to close my eyes. Yet your love has taught me so much through this journey of mine. I believe without you this whole being a birth mom “thing” would be ten to the thousand times harder. There has been days where I have hated you. I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t eat for days. I grieved for months on out. Yet it was you that helped me see that placing Ava was the right thing to do for her. Without love she wouldn’t be here. She would just have been a thought of “what if’s” or “should have’s”. I’m beyond happy I have you on my side.

Love always and forever,




An interview with Emilie.

I met Emilie about a year ago through social media. I am happy I know this amazing person. She has taught me about moving forward and accepting. She is a mother. She works full time along with sells Posh on the side. Shes a warrior and a fighter. She is strong in many ways that I admire. This interview hasnt been changed or altered. These are her own words and her story.



What’s your name? 


Dear fellow Birthmother, Stop sitting at the edge of your bed crying. It breaks my heart for I too use to do this all the time. It’s hard seeing it on Facebook and Instagram that all your friends who are married are going to have a baby. I get it! It’s hurting you! You’re angry! You’re jealous! I get these feelings trust me! We all placed for different reasons. Abuse, assaults, emotionally not ready, financially unstable, or being homeless. We placed out of fear. We placed because we were forced. We placed to protect our birth child from harm’s way. We placed because we had for too many reasons that will always be left unsaid. Yet the one thing that I wish someone told me was that jealousy can consume you. It can destroy you! It keeps you awake at night. It keeps you from moving on. Keeps you from being happy. It can also keep you from accepting your choice and moving forward with your life. I remember when I found out one of my older friends was pregnant. I was so happy for her. Yet it hurt me so much that she had a cookie cutter of a “perfect life” it made me so jealous. It tore me to pieces. I will not say names due to privacy. While she was going to have a baby, I was about to place and go through something so hard and something so scary. She was picking colors for her nursery and asking me what was the best shade of pink. I felt so empty inside. I had to draw myself away. While she was preparing to have a child, I was preparing to have a loss. She was shopping for clothes, while I was shopping for a frame to put my first picture in to sit beside me on my night stand so I could see my birth daughter every day to fill in the void of sorrow. She was taking belly pictures while I was hiding my stomach in shame. She was picking names while I was eating a tub of ice cream to take away the emotional pain for a minute. I was jealous. I was scared. I let the jealously consume me and tear me into a million pieces. I started to grow anger towards her. Thing is she never did anything wrong to me. She held me hand and embraced me when I told her what was happening to me. She did nothing wrong, she was a good friend. A damn good friend. I let my jealousy get in the way of our friendship. I let it make me become this monster. Well in other words a bitch. As I sit here now I think how lucky I am to have overcome this awful character trait I I’ve once had. It took a year After Placement to admit my wrongs to her. It took a year of being alone and hating the world to admit that I let jealousy consume me. She forgave me. She held me while I cried and told me that she understood. That she was scared for me as well. I’ve noticed as the years have passed people have asked me if I’m jealous of my birth daughters adoptive mother. I’ll be honest. No I never have been. Yet I have been jealous of my friends. I was jealous for many reasons. They got to have their child while I placed mine to protect her from harm’s way. To protect her from an emotional wreck. They had their shit together while I was still trying to find mine. I promise you that this jealousy phase will pass by. I promise you that once you get through this it will make your healing journey a lot easier. I know I’m not a Dr. or a psychiatrist yet I have been here. I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve placed. I’ve cried. I’ve hated life. I’ve grieved. I’ve had PTSD. Yet I’m also here. I’m happy. I’m healing. I’m embracing. I’m living life alive. 

A letter for you on Christmas Day.

Dear fellow Birth Mother,

It’s Christmas Day, and I know there’s a part of you that keeps whispering “keep your shit together in front of everyone”. Its okay, just let it out, I’m here for you.  This day wasn’t always easy for me either. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, I use to cry myself to sleep the night before this day. I use to get bloody drunk and tell myself this was just a nightmare. Yet, I want to shine some hope on your broken heart, and scattered mind. It will get better I promise. This place here that I am at right now, took work, and never giving up. It takes a lot of fixing the broken. Accepting and forgiving yourself, I promise you that this too shall pass. I know your heart feels numb, or empty, yet please know that I am here for you. I love you. I believe in you. I know that whatever your reason is, just always remember that you didn’t give up. You are far from that failure.

Stop believing the lies, I know that the mutters of everyone Else’s opinions will consume you. They too consumed me at one point too. They use to stab me in the heart. I felt beyond broken. Though after a while I told myself to stop believing the lies and to start living life.  Try to think of this day as a celebration, because of you, your birth child is with a beautiful and loving family and gets to have what you always wanted for your birth child. A day of memories, love, peace and joy.  I know that I’m not an expert. I haven’t been a birth mother for a long time. Though I do believe that after three and a half years of grief, of hate, of madness, of depression, and brokenness I am able to relate. The past year and a half has been a lot better once I accepted and embraced that I am a birth mother. After accepting this part of who I am. I do believe it’s made me a better mother now. I did a selfless act of love. I don’t need a pat on the back. I need me to be my own warrior. I have my hellish days, yet its days like this that I want to rejoice and shout from the top of my lungs.


I know that when you are opening gifts the thought will pass by and the wonders, and always know that you aren’t alone when it comes to those thoughts. My fellow birth mom I promise you that this will get easier. It will take time yet always know that I am here for you.

If need be you need to step outside and take five minutes to yourself always know that you have others like me cheering you on. One day the tears you shed now will turn into tears of happiness and joy. The coldness and numbness will pass too. You will be at appoint in your life where all you feel is warmth and love. It won’t always be this bad. I promise you. I love you. I’m here for you.

Love always a fellow Birth mom

Your number one fan.


Dear stay at home mom, 

Dear Stay at home mom,

I was once a stay at home mom when our son Elijah was born. It was a hard transition for me. I did it for a year and needed to go back to work. It wasn’t because I didn’t love my son. I was losing a sight of who I was at the time. I had to step up since my husband had gotten laid off and we needed to make up some income that we were about to lose. I worked two part time jobs durning this time and it honestly felt like I was working one full time and a part time. Hardest year of my life mentally, emotionally, and physically. Yet I wouldn’t take back this path I once walked. It made me who I am today. It made me stronger and wiser. It made me thankful that the time I spend with our son for his first year I will cherish forever. 

The waking up in the middle of the night to breast feed. The constant urge to pump a supply. To cleaning the house “my way” or the highway motto. To cooking dinner for my husband and enjoying the time we spent as a family. Now that I’m slowly transitioning to being a stay at home mom again it’s been easy and hard at the same time. I’m trying to balance home duties with mom duties along with pursuing my dream. Running my own business even if I don’t become successful over night I’m not giving up. This is what I have always wanted. A name and brand of my own. I know there will be moments in time where I will break down because I feel like I’m doing everything. I know I will probably hurt you by saying this is our form of “paying the bills” yet I don’t mean to offend you. We are the “bosses” when it comes to being a stay at home mom. We aren’t the maid, we simply like to live in a clean environment and that’s actually a good thing. It’s great for having a healthy mental state. We aren’t the chefs, we clearly are cooking to help provide for our families. Let’s make it fun and leave the control and let everyone help. We aren’t the laundry mat, we are simply the mothers that our children need. We are teaching them how to do daily survival skills along with proper hygiene. It took me a year of working and having all these mental break downs emotionally to realize I saw and complained about not “having that help” a different way. It took me being away from my son 13 hours a day at times when working both jobs to see that yes I had a “good life” even with the non stop crying. Being a stay at home mom isn’t so your husband or significant other can have control of you or how money is spent. It’s about an agreement. A bond. A unity to understand that just like work you get a vacation and sometimes we will need help. Yet use it as a sick day, or a personal day. A weekend off means a weekend off. So as I sit here and enjoy my tea for next couple minutes I’m going to continue to pursue my dream and work hard to get My Truth and Company going. To being a super hero parent for my son. To being a loving and supportive wife. To being the “queen of the household”. To being the badass girl boss I want to be and show my son that yes woman can own a business and be kick ass at it. After all my stay at home moms; the future is Female. Go a pursue your wildest dream.

“All the emotions came at once because this was the end for us. But the beginning for someone else and that was astonishing, and terrifying.”

I met Shonda through my penpal project. Along with following her and her best friend on Adoptionislove on Instagram. Her story hasn’t been altered or changed. I can’t thank this beautiful soul enough for being honest and truthful with her story. Here is a piece of that journey.
I am a birth mom. I am so proud of that title. I pushed my body and mind to its limits and I survived. I make it everyday knowing that a chunk of my heart is outside of my body and thriving. I am a birth mom
I found out I was pregnant (officially) on August 26th 2013. I already knew i was pregnant. I was sure of it in fact. I can’t even tell you why i knew it. I just did. I didn’t feel nauseous or tired. I didn’t have the classic symptoms. I remember buying a pregnancy test at a local grocery store and running to the bathroom because i needed some proof as to what my body already knew. I walked out of that bathroom stall with a negative test. WHAT??? I was so confused. but so relieved.  I didn’t want to be pregnant. I continued on that day with this thought of being pregnant in the back of my mind. why was I so sure that I was yet I had a negative test.
I survived a whole other day until I decided to go buy another test. I waited until I  was home this time and I took it. positive. Big bold plus sign stared back at me. I sat in my bathroom for what felt like hours, in reality only about 5 mins went by. I couldn’t even cry. My whole body was numb. My brain wouldn’t shut up yet I had no plan, no idea what to do, who to talk to, what to even think. I walked out of that bathroom, stuck that pregnancy test under my bed and pretended like nothing happened for the rest of the day
One of my very best friends at the time texted me the next day and said “I have bad news”… and all of a sudden that little thought in the back of my mind which I had pretended to think was not there, was front and center. I had bad news too… My friend replied before I even sent something back and said “I’m pregnant” I was shocked. I had felt so alone and then all at once not. I replied and said ” I think I am too”. She immediately came over and brought me about 3 more test. 2 more were positive and one was negative. I had no idea what to think, was I pregnant or not??
I decided to go to our local pregnancy resource center and confirm it. I had no idea how far along I would be or if I was even pregnant. I took my friend and we found out together. Only one of us could go in at a time so I went first. I was roughly 7 weeks. Dread started setting in and the girl working there could see the panic creep onto my face. Her words were “you have options” and then proceeded to tell me about parenting and abortion. She didn’t go into much detail but the majority of the conversation was all about parenting. I was barely supporting myself, I couldn’t support a baby. My thoughts were, “why won’t this girl stop talking about me being a parent because it’s the last thing I can do”. As I’m getting ready to go and becoming more silent by the minute, she told me I could pick out a handmade set of booties and a matching hat. I numbly reached into the bin and pulled out the first thing that I could find because I just wanted her to stop talking to me, I was in shock. As I was about to leave the room we had been sitting in, the lady goes ” oh here’s a pamphlet on adoption too” and let the conversation die.  My friend walked in after me, and I sat in the waiting room for the next 20 mins and cried.
I was adopted when I was 3 and I have never had any huge issues with it. I had a hard time understanding why certain things happened like being separated from my siblings and foster family I had lived with for 3 years. I was a happy and healthy kid due to my family loving me. But i hated the fact that i didn’t know my siblings until iIwas much older. I didn’t even know I had sisters until I was 12 years old. and I had been separated from my brother who was the only person i knew to be family at a very young age. Adoption is beautiful and hard all in one and my adoption story was that.
My cousin was adopted from Korea as a baby, so my family has grown up around adoption like its nothing strange. My cousin also happened to become pregnant 3 years prior to me becoming pregnant, and she made an adoption plan for her beautiful daughter. I watched everything she went through, and yet I was here, feeling alone, finding no way to tell her I was pregnant. I couldn’t face my family or anyone for that matter. I knew I had to tell the father though. It was a bit complicated because I had been with two guys within a few weeks. But based on dates, it had to be one over the other. Next problem was, we weren’t on the best of terms. We had been on and off for years. My family hated him, I had no idea how his family felt about me. He was honestly was not very committed  to me and the fact that this had happened was just going to make things worse. I texted him saying “we need to talk” while I was at work one day, thinking he wouldn’t text me for a while (like he always did). he immediately called me. I couldn’t answer. First, I was at work, and second, I wasn’t ready to tell him!! I texted back, “ill call you when I’m off work”
I left work dreading this phone call. I got home, sat down and called. The first thing out of his mouth was “your pregnant aren’t you?” I instantly felt better knowing I didn’t have to say the words out loud yet. I started crying and said yes. His next response was “are you going to get an abortion then?” i was shocked because i hadn’t even thought that was an option. I just said “no, I have no plan but that isn’t it. ill figure it out but thought you should know” and hung up the phone. i felt right back to the moment in the bathroom with that positive stairing back at me. Still no plan, and still no idea what to feel or do.
Another saving grace came my way a few days later. My friend who was pregnant as well, let it slip to my cousin that I was pregnant. She texted me one day and said, hey are you home? I wanna talk” I was so unexpecting of that fact that she was going to tell me MY secret. She urged me to tell my parents. She had waited until she was almost 5 months along and she regretted that. I needed a support system and I needed it as soon as possible, no matter what decision I made.
Lets just say my parents didn’t take the news well. simple as that. haha. I set up doctor appointments and I was texting the father times to be there. even if I didn’t know what was going to happen to this baby, it needed to be healthy,  I started telling people slowly that I was pregnant and everyone was so happy for me. I was the young mom who wanted kids and was totally ready for this according to everyone. I was not the face of unplanned pregnancy. I was not 16. I was a mess that no one was seeing.
My mom came around and she asked me constantly “whats your plan?” I never had any answers for her but she was being so supportive still. I value that so much still to this day.
I decided to call an adoption agency because it was the only thing I could think of. I remember googling “adoption agencies near me”. Lutheran social services came up and I called. I have no idea what I was going to say but I’m pretty sure I left a voicemail on the machine and it was something along the lines of “my name is Shonda, I’m pregnant and I have no idea what to do. call me please”
The inner Shonda was becoming more and more of a mess as the hours ticked on. I was getting more hormonal. I felt like i was never going to figure this all out.
I drug the father with me to the first appointment with Lutheran social services and it went better than I thought. we covered the logics. talked about what we wanted and what we both expected. why we were thinking of adoption, and why we thought we couldn’t parent. For a brief moment i felt reassured and relieved
The months went on, and details were falling into place. I picked Carson’s family and I also struggled each and every day. Every new day came with a new emotion. I barely had the support of the father after I decided to tell him about the other guy. I had a plan going but I didn’t all at the same time. I decided to not share with a lot of people about making an adoption plan, so most people didn’t think much of anything and I honestly regret that. I thought i was going to be judged that I would feel like a worse person than i already did. It was horrible. I questioned my plan each and everyday. The father finally decided to put issues aside and do what was the best for the baby which was nice because I needed as much support as I could get.
We met with Carson’s family when I was 8 months along, and that was a huge turning point in my adoption process. I left that meeting feeling loved. I went in with an anxious mind, and left knowing that my baby was going to be right where i wanted him, supported by a FUNCTIONING 2 person family, loved by an older brother, and so very loved. The birth father decided he wanted to do a paternity test, which i gladly accepted. Coming from an adoptee’s perspective, i wanted my baby to know exactly where he came from. We decided with Carson’s new family and us, to do it after he was born.
I went into labor at 7 am on April 22nd, 2014. I was so calm and I still to this day have no idea how. I called my mom who came and got me and took me to the hospital. I was triaged to make sure I was in labor because I still wasn’t convinced I was haha. I called the father and he said he would be there in a few hours because of work. I took some walks with my parents, my adoption counselor came and it was moving along. I survived 7 whole hours without getting an epidural. I remember sitting in the tub, the father holding my hand, and it all hit me. I was scared. All the emotions came at once because this was the end for us. But the beginning for someone else and that was astonishing, and terrifying. The father looked at me and said, “you’ve got this” and I was back into mama bear mode, ready to have this baby.
My birth plan for the hospital was to have the father and I in the room while I pushed and once things calmed down, and depending on the time, then Carson’s parents would come up. This plan caused a lot of chaos between my parents and I because of who I chose to be in the room with me and that was so hard on me, when I had a million other things to worry about. I was so focused on my feelings that I didn’t really think of anyone else emotions. Looking back, I loved how it went, but every girl needs their mom.
Carson entered this world screaming after an exhausting 18 hours of labor on April 23rd 2014 at 1:04 am. I instantly started crying because I had been so focused on labor and accomplishing this, that I hadn’t really thought about what was coming next. Compared to labor, this was going to be even harder. The father was the most amazing and helpful person during labor which surprised me. He counted to 10 every contraction and helped me breathe. He told me I was doing okay and I am so very thankful of that, to this day.
We got moved to a recovery room, and the nurse who had stayed over her 12 hour shift to stay with us,  told us how strong and proud of us she was, that she didn’t see many people like us decide to make a selfless choice for their baby. It brought me to tears honestly because I didn’t feel like i was brave at all.
Carson’s parents decided to come up in the morning and I was so nervous that I basically ended up staying awake for most the night with Carson because I refused to let him go. This was my bonding moments that I couldn’t miss. His parents got the recovery room next to us to give us space but also be close. They came and went and it honestly went amazing for how emotional we all were. There was a time I was sitting on the bed with the father, and carson, and I was so overwhelmed that I asked the father to bring carson to his parents to give us a moment. He left and up until this point, I  had not see the father cry. He stepped back into the room, and he just dropped to the floor sobbing. we just sat in that hospital room and just cried. It was all we could do.
I left that hospital after seeing Carson leave with his family in tears feeling hollow. I had spent 9 months preparing for this, my body had built up all the hormones to prepare for a baby, and i left with nothing. shock to my mind and body. My adoption agency actually got the father and I a hotel room because I didn’t want to go back to my apartment quite yet as well which was a relief. I felt like I had a neutral place that didn’t remind me of anything.
I was feeling horrible, and unfortunately it was just going to get worse. We had just sent off the lab results of the paternity test and we had to wait a week. While we were waiting, the day of us signing our rights over came. To say I was a mess is an understatement. I wanted it to just get done as soon as possible but I also just wanted to walk out of that room and go get my baby. I had no idea what to feel or do but I managed to go in there and sign. I walked out and sat in the car and just cried. My life had changed in the matter of a few seconds it took me to sign my name. How could that be?! how could this be real?!
The test results came back and the worst was true. The father was not the father. To say that my broken heart was ripped open all over again is nothing compared to the feeling that I had. He was the one who got me through my labor, who helped selecting Carson’s family. Who did everything in his power to keep me together while holding it together as well. I also had to contact the “real dad” who had to legally sign over his right or deny paternity to make sure Carson could be adopted. I was worried sick because as much as I was heartbroken and sad, I couldn’t have my actions affect the fact of Carson being with his family. I eventually got ahold of him, he denied any rights and said he didn’t want to talk about it ever again. A few months later, I learned he moved out of the state.
I haven’t talked to him since. He hasn’t asked about Carson or me, and honestly I don’t know if he will. As an adoptee, that breaks my heart to think Carson will have to deal with the fact of not knowing a part of where he comes from. I chose to do an open adoption because I wanted to be able to a part of his life. I wanted him to know where he comes from and to answer any questions he may have. I love Carson so much and want him to know that. I will forever consider the first guy to be more of a vital part of Carson’s life. He doesn’t make an effort to keep a relationship with him, which is fine, but he does ask me occasionally about him and that’s amazing to me. We didn’t talk for quite a few months after the results for obvious reasons. It didn’t help my healing process at all. I honestly felt more alone than i did pregnant. birthmom
Then one day, my adoption counselor and I decided we needed a support group. I felt like there had to be more people out there that could relate to my story. 5 girls came together and that first meeting was just us all crying. I wasn’t alone and to feel like someone could relate helped me immensely. we have kept up with it, and to be honest its one of the reason i feel sane to this day. They are my family, my sisters and we hold this bond together forever.
It has been 2.5 years and every day is a new one. I still get sad and I still cry about Carson. But slowly love has taken over. That little piece of my heart is thriving and growing too fast and that is all I could have ever asked for. I have become a part of his family and them a part of mine. there are SO many people who love carson and there is never anything wrong with that. I am taking one day at a time and i have spent my time spreading awareness of adoption to help me and others heal. I love my support group and run a support and awareness group with one of my best friends who happens to be adopted and a birth mom as well called Adoptionslove. I am living my life for myself and Carson,
I love being a birth mom and even though an unplanned pregnancy is not what I wanted to face, I made the perfect right out of the whole situation and I can only hope people can see and learn how amazing adoption is.

An open letter to a fellow Birthmom. 

Dear selfless soul,

Good morning. I woke up this morning happy. I woke up this morning smiling. It hasn’t always been like this; yet today I’m going to embrace it. Embrace this with me please. 

I had a dream last night. I was walking on a nice path through the park with my son. I was visiting him. So you could say I was 20 years older than I am now. I must say I look good for being 45. It was a nice day out. He took my hand and told me had a surprise for me. He led me to this spot that was open. You could see the city below us. The sky was clear and flowers were starting to bloom. He held me and told me 

“I understand the choices you made mom. I will always love you for being so strong and brave.”

I woke up at this time knowing that my son is one forgiving, loving man. I’m lucky. 

My dreams haven’t always been like this. I’ve had nightmares for years straight. Sleepless nights. Nights were I’m wide awake. Ones were I pace back and forth hoping not to wake up Derrik. 

After Elijah was born they stopped for a while. Yet when they came back they came back bad. I get short. My anxiety is through the roof. The ones that are near me are affected sometimes by my healing.

I can tell you about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Yet right now I want to hold onto the good. I want to focus on this big step I’ve made. Waking up happy. Waking up with forgiveness.

I’ve held onto anger and hurt for so long. I’ve held onto what ifs. I’ve held onto depression. Loneliness. Sadness. Hurt. Pain. Numbness. I’ve held onto a specific day and let it just repeat itsself for days, were days turned into weeks and it turned into a month. 

I let the actions of others affect me. I’ve let the words of others towards me consume me. Eat at me. Make me feel small and unloved. I let this happen for almost five years straight. 

Yet over time I learned that being who I am is okay. I chose life. I chose to carry a beautiful child despite of the reasonings behind everything. Despite the heartache and hurt. Despite of feeling small and ashamed of being pregnant. I chose to place for the many reasons that go left unsaid. 

My second cup of coffee. I need fresh air. 

I’m going to drink my cup of coffee and enjoy the sun trying to break through from the clouds. 

My third cup. 

I’m out of coffee now. Damn. 

Being who we are isn’t a bad thing. Being a Birthmom means a lot to me. This morning I woke up proud. I woke up strong. I am strong. I am brave. I am fearless, even though I was in fear the whole time during my pregnancy, durning placing, during my healing, and now. Yet I’m still fearless for not giving up. For fighting through the ugly. For wanting to heal. For I am Birthmom strong. I know that every day wont be like this one. Yet it’s days like today that I treasure and hold on to. It’s days like today that give me the extra push to keep moving forward. 

I know during the hurt, the confusion. The mess. The heartache. The sleepless nights. The numbness. We don’t hear the words “I love who you are” or “I love how selfless you are to be so loving” well this is me telling you that I love you so much. I love how strong you are. I love that even though you feel like shit some days. You matter to me. You matter to me because I get your pain. I get it. Yet what I love most about you is that you are not afraid to show the world who you really are. A person. A person who chose to place. A person who chose to place despite of everything. A person who chose to place despite of everything, you chose life because you knew deep in your heart it was the right thing for your child to place your child with a family who could love them and be there for them even though right now you can’t. Now that my selfless soul is one beautiful act of love you chose to do. For that is why I love who you are. I love you because you are beyond birth mom strong. 

Six weeks all in one


My alarm clock goes off this morning.  One of two things go off inside of me. Wake up and get the day started or hit snooze and repeat this process about fifteen times. I’m laying in bed to think about this for ten more seconds before my mind explodes from hearing the alarm go off. I choose to lay in bed. I have no energy left within me. I feel a lack of love from everyone around me. I feel alone and small. I just want to hide under the sheets and let everyone pretend I’m okay. Yet that’s a lie all in itself. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to be aware that there is hurt within me and is causing suffering to my mind, body, and soul. It’s okay to admit I need help. I need love. I need embracement. I need reminders from family and friends. I need that connection. I need to feel appreciated. All these are needs. Needs we humans need from time to time. They aren’t wants, they aren’t “what ifs” they are simply needs. I have my moments when I feel like a lion and when I feel like a mouse. Today I feel like a mouse, I’m finally ready to reflect what this past month. On the days I feel small I have to remind myself twice as hard I’m worthy of love, my voice is worthy of a roar. I’m reminding myself I’m worthy of healing. I’m worthy of great greatness. The past six weeks has been such a blur. When I say blur I mean a complete mess of chaos and happiness all in one.

We had our California Mexico trip six weeks ago, we need a vacation from our vacation since all this maddens was about to occur.  We had to get in packing mode to move to our new home. Try to unpack the new house, get settled in, start my new job, all in between all this madness I’m trying to find that quiet time like now to just work on my projects, and last but not least finding that time to breath, catch up, and not lose my sanity.IMG_6018

We went to Mexico for a few days. I got to see my mom. For the first time in a long time we didn’t fight or argue. Instead we laughed and she played with my son. She’s a grandma now and she acted among the part really well. I’m proud of her.  You can really tell she is trying her best to be as sane as she can be. I give her credit for that.  It made me so happy to see my mom interact and form a relationship with my son and Derrik. I won’t lie a part of me wishes that was me. I sometimes wished life could have been different. Where I had my mom fully there. Mentally and physically. Someone who would interact with me make me feel safe. Someone to teach me how to love. I’m happy to say Elijah is her second chance. So far she’s making me very proud to be her daughter. From seeing her this last time it made me see that it’s my time to invest in her now. I need to invest in the reflection I wish the world to see. That investing starts with myself, my son, Derrik, and now my mother. I’m learning that expanding in growth there comes so much goodness. For that I thank God for guiding me there spiritually.IMG_6324

California had its moments. I got into a spat with my aunt. It hurt me. It really dug deep within me. I felt hurt, her action made me feel abandoned. She didn’t agree with my parenting. I know Derrik and I will never be the perfect parents in the world, yet I will always try my best to be the best for my son. I believe in positive parenting. I honestly think it’s a trigger for some people in my family. Derrik and I don’t believe in spanking and don’t believe to humiliate our child in front of others. We try to let Elijah know that some things are not okay and will teach him how to do things better. Example: We don’t hit people when we are upset. We go to the person who upset us and say “you upset me”. Yes Elijah is two yet he gets this concept he says “no okay mommy” translation for me; I hurt my son what can I do to be a better parent. My aunt just didn’t see any of this. She wanted us to pretend since we were on “vacation” to pretend to let it go and let Elijah pay for it later by retraining and getting him frustrated and explaining to him why he could get away with things in California and not at home. I didn’t think that was right and she hated the fact that I stood up for myself and my son ( since I was trying to save him from being confused and thinking it’s okay  to lash out just to lash out instead of using our positive parenting methods) she hated this she and fought with me. I was called many names. She walked out and didn’t even say goodbye to Elijah. I tried several times to reach out to her, yet she denied me, she denied my son. I felt so hurt by her. All because for the first time in her life I could tell her no and not get smacked or yelled at for it. One time she had to keep her cool because Derrik was there. I know that if he wasn’t everything would have been ten times worse. I felt so much pain because for the first time she was going to meet Ava and she walked away from that opportunity as well. I was ready to open a part of this world with her. I was ready for her to see Ava and hug her. To smile with her. To embrace her. I had so much sorrow for my son and Ava. She really knew where to strike her new wound with me.  My aunt reminded me through all this ugly that I have to let go of the hurt she has caused me and fight for hope. Every sorrow she has given me has made me dig deeper to let go and fight the fight. That I am brave.

For the first time Derrik and Elijah got to experience Lego Land, Disney land with real authentic Mexican food for nine days straight, to meeting most of everyone in my crazy Latina family and seeing Ava and Karin.IMG_6345IMG_6287

It’s been almost three years since I had seen Ava in person.  My heart was racing when I saw her and Karin. All I could do was hug her and hold tight for thirty seconds and thank God for letting me and my family see her again. I had my moments when I needed to step aside and get a breather. To be honest Ava clicked with Derrik so well I got a tad bit jealous. Elijah and Ava were inseparable. They held hands, played and rode rides together. This day was perfect for me and my family. There was hard times for my grandma, you could see her watery eyes from time to time. My grandma was so brave and so strong. I was so afraid there would be a sly comment or a day well spent ruined. My chest felt heavy sometimes when Elijah would call me mommy and Ava didn’t. Yet that’s the path I chose Yes it’s hard from time to time yet I chose to place Ava for many reasons. The love she gets from her mom and dad is the love I lacked to give her at the time. My greatest gift I could give her was to place her with people who were mentally, emotionally, and financially okay to do so. I felt numb when saying goodbye. I felt a whole and broken all at the same time.  I wanted this day to play over and over just a couple more times. Everything was just a fog after that. My week continued on yet it was one big blur. I didn’t really want to break down when I was in California. I didn’t want my family to see this weak side of me. One that has to force herself to get out of bed from time to time just to live life. I had to wear a mask because we never really talk about it. I feel many are afraid to hear the truth when it comes to Ava. I couldn’t let this hurt me till after we were done moving. I didn’t have time to process my feelings. I had to keep them bottled up till well now.

I sit here in silence while Elijah is sleeping and Derrik is at work. All I can do is just breath heavy and let it out. Let out the tears of joy and sadness I have had bottled up inside of me for a couple weeks now. The feelings I have right now are just raw emotions.  An ounce of panic and fear. A lack of trust I have people when it comes to just letting it out when I need to cry my soul out. The endless pleas and prayers. A little bit of me grieving again. Yet mostly grieving for my son who is so young to understand what Disneyland was all about. To just keep pushing myself to teach him the love I have for him and Ava. That the love I have is no greater than the other. My heart is filled with so much coldness and warmth I long of hope to fully be happy and not have a bad day take over and consume my mind. The baby steps I’m still working towards to. The fight I’m fighting even when I feel like giving up. People tell me that it’s over and done with to move on. To leave it alone. To keep it hush hush.  How do I process that I will always be an outcast?  Putting energy to my healing and being open means pain on my part, how do I process to think everything is going well when BAM a horrible day comes and I feel numb and weak all over again? I feel like some days I’m walking along the road picking flowers on my way to freedom to being free within. There are other days when I’m standing on the edge of a dark deep hole of emotions that have no way out yet to fall deep, deep down and hit rock bottom and be broken into a million pieces and put myself back together again. I keep standing on that edge trying to force myself to walk away most days. It used to be all days…now it’s just some. For my son’s sake and Ava’s I try not to have many mental break downs anymore. I wait for therapy. I wait to be alone. For me it’s all about baby steps. I know I’m doing better, I’m moving forward. I’m just going to try to do the best I can in this confusing, painful, joyful, sorrow hole of mine.








Finding Happiness Within the Soul

I’m slowly yet surely starting to maintain a lifestyle that has time for me time so I can unwind and breath.

“Be who you are and say what matters to you, those who mind don’t matter and those who matter will be happy to see you be who you are supposed to be!”

My little reminder I get from my best friend  once a week.

For the longest time I have bumped heads with Derrik when it comes to self-love and self-happiness, because  he’s a man and I’m a woman. They come from Mars as we come from Venus. Yet I have had such a hard time grasping this for such a long time. Derrik doesn’t care. It’s not that he doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care what people think of him. It’s been hard for me to digest this because I have been the type of person that tends to people please. It’s been embedded in my mind to care what people think of me.  I would always say, “How can you not care about me?!!!!!” My mind would always play tricks on me. I have always had this dark gloomy cloud following behind me. Every time I turned my head to look back there it was. The dark gloomy cloud of worry, expectations, fear, the lack of self-love, and self- happiness.  I’ve had ideas embedded in my head of how I should act and look. I never lined up with those “expectations”. I’ve had a mask on my face and body as a shield to protect me so I could just “fit in”.  I’m not one to dress proper, sit tall and walk gracefully. I actually have a girly grunge vibe with a slight hippie soul, with a dash of feminist, nerdy glasses with red hair. Yup that’s me!IMG_5945

I’m now at a point in life where I’m starting to see what Derrik see’s. It’s amazing how you fall in love with people that manage to teach you things that you never thought you needed help to begin with.  I get frustrated from time to time because I lack to give myself credit for being as strong as I really am. I frustrate him for he doesn’t see how I don’t see what he sees in me. Though I’m getting there. I’m getting there slowly. I’m starting to say “to hell with the noise of people’s negative thoughts and opinions of me” I have carried so many memories of negativity and held on to them for such a long time. It’s time to let go of this pain. I’ve felt it way too long.

Lifting this weight of my shoulders has made me think a lot clearer. I still have bad days yet I know with all the panic and fear there’s now that ounce of freedom that helps me get through things in my own  way.

I’m not going to please everyone and that’s okay!

I’m not going to repress the best things about myself because others are too intimidated of me and how far I have come. How open I am with my adoption story. How open I am with the pain, struggles and accomplishments I’ve over come when it comes to anxiety and depression. I’m allowed to be happy! I’m worthy of love! I’m embracing the best and brightest aspects of myself. I’m starting to be someone I love.IMG_5967

Self-happiness and self-love are two things I told myself that I will work on. I now see that with my scars, and stretch marks still make me beautiful. My brain is slowly breaking from the idea of being abandon. That I am worthy of love, not from others. Yet with myself.  I can have a good day being alone. I don’t need a room full of people to pretend to make me happy.  Just because I don’t see myself beautiful it doesn’t mean that I’m not. It’s not like, “human or not human,” or “black or white.” I don’t get to decide whether I am beautiful or not, and whether someone else is beautiful. Thing is I am and everyone around me near and far is. I have dug deep into myself and found my love language. Quality time. I’ve been putting time aside for myself every day for 30 minutes to do something I love. Using my affirmations daily. Positive thinking, positive talks with myself in the car or simply writing them down. I’m starting to honor myself in many ways I never did before.  I fell in love with myself about a month ago yet every day since I’ve grown to build a stronger bond with myself. I’m loving myself more and more every day. I’ve learned my value. I’ve learned to believe in myself.  I have accepted that I have worth that isn’t based off my words, shortcomings, actions or success. Yet that I am just worthy of it and nothing anyone does will change the self-love I’m building up for myself. Hope and courage is my anchor. I refuse to stop living a life that isn’t  free. I want to explore and feel life at the edge of my fingertips. There will be good and bad days yet my self love will still grow.


I choose to feel the pain

I choose to feel the pain. Pain and nightmares. Healing takes place in the open. I’m starting to drag my shadows from the darkness, to let them breath. Wounds that were once five inches deep are now beautiful scares I look at. My little reminders of the proof I’m capable of healing. The reminders of pain I once have felt. To letting myself appreciate the moments of happiness and bliss. To not be ashamed of my broken.IMG_5682 (3) To saying goodbye to the “band aids”. I’m not going to be a chameleon and have a desperate urge to fit in and wear the appropriate mask to the appropriate occasions. I’m not going to tell people what they want to hear anymore. Even though it hurts to rip off the “band aids” and show the ugly I have within that’s been festering to hide for so long, I’m not ashamed of who I once was. I’m actually quite proud of all the feelings I have felt. There is nothing easy about wanting to choose to expose my broken self. It will leave me vulnerable, maybe fragile, it will feel raw. It will hurt like hell. For I have simply been strong way too long.

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“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ― Louise Erdrich