a year...

what an amazing year!

This time last year we were running around in a blind panic trying to make sure that we had thought of everything.

This time last year we were so happy (still are) thinking about bringing boy-o home the next year.

This time last year we had no idea of what life was going to be

This time last year we had hopes and dreams

This year - my boy is fast asleep in his bed

This year we are happy thinking about the joy that is boy-o

This year we know what life with boy-o is like (tiring a lot of the time)

This year we know that having a son was everything that we dreamt of and more besides.

I wouldn't change it. It has been horrid and difficult and amazing and wonderful.

It is better than we hoped and worse than we dreaded

He is our son. He is absolutely our boy. Even when he is in the middle of his worst strop I wouldn't change it. I adore that boy; and this evening when I put him to bed and I got an extra cuddle and he told me he loved me - just because; I realised that he is more than I could ever have expected.

Happy one year to us. Happy one year as a mummy, daddy and son. Roll on the next year - and the ones after that.

adoption discussions and celebrations

I've been ignoring my blog, wondering what to do... but I've been inspired by Mel this week.... inspired and reminded; this is my space, it is my blog and I apologise to those that don't like my words, but it's my space to empty my head.

I am a mother but I am infertile... and this week has had a lot of adoption reminders in it.

On Monday I went out for coffee with some of boy-o's friend's mums... one of whom I hope I will get to call friend, the other 2 - not so worried about. We were talking about women things, and I know that one of them has had a hysterectomy, and at the time she had that I told her my history (in brief) - so when were were talking she asked how my endometriosis was - I replied that I'm on the pill and not presently having periods so not a major problem.

The mum that I know least commented that isn't pregnancy supposed to help endometriosis - the other two looked at her like she was mad, and I explained that boy-o is adopted! She hadn't realised...which did provide my comedy moment of the week.

Various conversations at work about pregnancy and the like, left me feeling a little blurrh, but only to be expected as my best mate at work is pregnant, as are two of my fellow science teachers!

And today.... today our adoption agency had their celebration event for all the adopted children locally. Not only did we catch up with our toddler group friends which was fab as we stood there knowing people; but we also got to see our two social workers, one of whom has never met boy-o. We saw the social worker who ran our prep group.

It was an amazing afternoon, full of happiness and joy of adoption. Not that anyone was saying it was easy, but all those children there today are adopted. How fantastic is that, my boy will grow up knowing that he isn't the only one, because our agency make sure that is the case.

More to follow - I shall try not to ignore this space. But the end of this week is full of good thoughts about adoption.

A year

What a difference a year makes.... I can't believe that it's a year since we went and had that scary matching panel. I can't believe that a year ago we were told that we could be boy-o's parents. I can't believe that this time last year we were planning, and tidying and getting ready like mad.

I can't get my head around the fact it's a year. That this time last year we still hadn't met our boy, although the planning was happening. I can't believe that it's only a year. I can't imagine life without him. We are blessed beyond measure with our little man.

When M brought him home from the childminders this afternoon, he ran into the kitchen were I was getting tea; and gave me a huge hug. He smiled and talked through tea. He was only sad that I said no drawing because it was bedtime. I do mostly love my job, but I miss my boy and wish I could be with him more.

In other news - it's ICLW! Welcome if it's your first time here, or you are not a regular reader. I'm nh, I am a mother, a wife, and a science teacher. Last year M and I adopted our son, who will very soon be 3. I live on the outskirts of a Yorkshire city, with countryside 10mins in one direction and city 10minutes in the other.

Feel free to have a look around. I've travelled a difficult path to get to the point where I can call myself a mum. We went through years of infertility and grief before deciding to adopt. Those dark times lurk and linger in spaces in my soul; they aren't forgotten, just put aside in the rush of everyday life.

Feb half term

Half term week has been and gone...in a blaze of happy times, friends and a lack of sleep. Tomorrow would indicate a return to work - except I don't work Mondays.

This time last year... is a little phrase that has rattled around my head this past week. Last Feb half term (which was actually a week later) we had matching panel, we got a yes, and we madly organised for a week, before meeting our boy.

This year... I've spent quality and happy time with my boy. Well, mostly happy, but neither of us has been 100% well, if he's slept alright I've been up coughing. If I've been on for a good night's sleep, he's been awake. Last night might actually have broken our previous record, but about 3 o'clock this morning, M & I gave up counting. It wasn't a good night!

But highlights of the last week, seeing our friends with their new puppy, and walking with them all. Meeting up with another friend and her 3 year old twins, having a glorious walk and watching the boys interact. Having my friend with her daughter her for lunch and playing with boy-o. Getting to go to the adoption play group; and seeing my friends there, chatting and catching up.

We've had some good times and bad times with boy-o this week. He's very two at the minute; and with being off colour, we've had plenty of tantrums. Proper two year old tantrums. Proper do-your-head in tantrums. Lots of crying and screaming when he can't have his way. I keep hoping that a magic switch will appear when he turns 3.... however, having seen my friends 3 year old twins, it's possible that doesn't happen.

But this too will pass, I'm not complaining as such, just diarising. He is a happy, young man with a whole lot of personality.

February

February has been a funny month for the last few years - and as I prepare to face this week, knowing that it's the anniversary of my worst miscarriage; but equally knowing that the end of the month will bring about the anniversary of meeting our boy...I feel strange. I want to cry about what might have been, but that takes away from the joy of my boy.

Nothing takes away from what might have been, and time doesn't heal, it just helps you find ways to deal with it. Those babies were precious, as were all the others, but it is this miscarriage that I remember more than any other. Knowing that 5 years ago, I had hope of an entirely different ending to our story.

And yet... I can't imagine any other outcome. I love my boy, I can't think of how I could have loved a birth child more. He is our child, and whilst I wish for him that he had been able to have been brought up by his birth family; I'm glad he's ours.

And yet...I wonder what might have been, who those children would have grown to be. Whether they'd be tall and skinny like M, or shorter and chubbier like me. Would they have liked what we like, would we have cherished their joy of the world, of being outside. Would we have a girl who liked doing craft like me. Would we have a boy who wants to explore how the world works like M. Who would those children have been.

And yet... we are blessed beyond measure. Our boy, is such a boy. He loves being outside and will just run around with the joy of it. He is not afraid of anything (except us leaving him). He finds joy in each new day and each new experience. Everywhere he goes people smile, because he smiles. He is making me grow, because with him I have to be a better person.

And yet... sometimes when I am with my friends with the children born in the month before ours would have been, I wonder. Would their children be good friends with ours. Would they be experiencing everything new with them.

And yet... boy-o loves those children. If you ask him who his friends are... two out of the three (the ones he sees most often) are mentioned...always. Other friends vary, but he loves spending time with those children. He plays so well with them. Perhaps if they had been closer in age it would have been different.

And time passes. The pain becomes easier to absorb. The knowledge of our boy is great, and the shadows are fading. As those potential children become older... I lose sight of them more often. They become more ghost like... a presence rather than actual beings. But I can't forget them totally, they will always be there, waiting in the shadows.

An ending...

Boy-o's social worker came to visit us last week - for the very last time. With her she had his life story book (which by rights should have been with us last March) and a later life letter. I'm not satisfied with the life story book as it still contains incorrect information; but at this point, I've accepted it, and accepted that I have to redo it... whether I need to break it up or just scan and print off the photos that I want - leaving it whole to discuss with boy-o in later life is yet to be seen.

I'm glad she's gone... I can't tell you how happy I am to see the back of her. David was all over the place after her visit. I asked M to take the afternoon off work so I didn't have to deal with her by myself - and I was extra glad because my boy was off the wall for the rest of the day. At bedtime we talked through our day - as we always do, and I made the point that she'd been to say goodbye, that she isn't coming again and that he won't be moved on. M couldn't believe how boy-o was whilst she was here or afterwards, but I just reminded him that it's what happens.

She is gone - this week sees another final visit - one that I am sadder about, the departure of our social worker. There were times when I couldn't wait for her to visit, someone else to see, someone to talk to... and we've reached the end. I am comfortable and confident that we don't need her any more, but equally it seems very odd to get to this point, this conclusion.... we are a family - and now we can get on with being a family!

update

I can't quite believe it's the end of January....many times this month, I've thought I need to blog about that, or think about this. But it's not happened. In brief, work, work, Christening (which was wonderful and deserves a post), parental issues - both mine and M's, work, other people's pregnancies and infertility. It's been a busy month!

I keep wondering if the reason I am struggling to blog, is because I'm a little lost with where to take the blog. Do I continue to blog about my issues with infertility - PCOS and endometriosis haven't been cured by adoption. Do I continue to blog about our adoption journey, what's happening and what's not. Do I blog as a mother? Or do I continue to use this space to empty my head - which is probably what I ought to do, accept that I won't ever keep everyone happy - but remember that this is my space.

2012 has started out to be a normal year. New friends to socialise with, new colleagues at work, old friends to socialise with, old colleagues to relax with. Boy-o is attending pre-school and loving it, although we had a rocky couple of weeks at the start of the month. I'm working 3 days a week, leaving him with 2 different childminders - which is working out really well. He adores his 'main' childminder and the other children that he sees there. He enjoys the experiences that he has with his other childminder. I'm not convinced I've done the right thing going back to work, but equally it is amazing when I'm there in the classroom, doing the job that I love.

However, in my mind there is a looming... boy-o's half brother was born at the end of last summer, last we heard they were starting adoption proceedings for him.....and there in lies the looming. There is a little thought sitting there, wondering... are we ready, is boy-o ready, or do we accept that we will only ever have the one child.

Finally - whilst I was exchanging texts tonight... I reminded myself how lucky we are! We seemed to have been blessed by one of the 1/3 of adopted children who have some problems, not one of the 1/3 with significant problems, or one of the 1/3 with severe problems. However, we did adopt a 2 year old, which we'd never intended to, we'd always talked about a 3 year old or 4 year old, and he has many, many 2 year traits... but we love and adore him, I can't imagine having any other child. He is ours, and he will always be one of us.