You've outgrown your socks again. I noticed them riding just above the bottom of your heel this morning.
The socks you wore new the first day of school. The socks thrust forward as you practice your front kick. The socks you stained like pitch when you "rescued" a snail from a mulch bed in a rainstorm and snuck out a few minutes later - forgetting your shoes - because you were worried there might be others out there that wouldn't survive the storm.
I love your socks.
I love them because they're yours. I love them because they touch you and hold you and shape to you.
I have your socks.
I wonder if your first mom wishes she did.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, March 8, 2018
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Nothing to Do with Adoption
Click here to purchase Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
How Can a Mother Give up Her Child?
She said: I've been blessed by adoption, but still, I don't understand how a mother can give up her child. I could never do that.
I said: You could never do that? How do you know?
She said: Because! I love my kids far too much. I would never do that to them.
I said: Hmm... then surely you love your children too much to ever diminish their history or deny them access to their roots.
A mother as loving as you doesn't feel the need to compete with her kid's first family, change her child's name, or withhold any contact with their birth family.
And - hallelujah! - you're not one of those adoptive parents who tries to pretend that the life and development and attachment and love and leaving that happened before you is insignificant.
You love your children far too much to do that to them.
Whew! Good to know.
Click here to purchase Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective, in softcover, hardcover, or e-book formats.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
I said: You could never do that? How do you know?
She said: Because! I love my kids far too much. I would never do that to them.
I said: Hmm... then surely you love your children too much to ever diminish their history or deny them access to their roots.
A mother as loving as you doesn't feel the need to compete with her kid's first family, change her child's name, or withhold any contact with their birth family.
And - hallelujah! - you're not one of those adoptive parents who tries to pretend that the life and development and attachment and love and leaving that happened before you is insignificant.
You love your children far too much to do that to them.
Whew! Good to know.
Click here to purchase Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective, in softcover, hardcover, or e-book formats.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Best-Selling Adoption Book Now Available for Kindle
The best-selling adoption book What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective is now available as an e-book through Amazon's Kindle Store.
Kindle and Kindle DX are the revolutionary portable e-readers that wirelessly download books, magazines, newspapers, blogs, and personal documents to a crisp, high-resolution electronic ink display that looks and reads like real paper. Kindle and Kindle DX utilize the same 3G wireless technology as advanced cell phones, so users never need to hunt for a Wi-Fi hotspot. Kindle is the most wished for, the most gifted, and the #1 bestselling product on Amazon.com.
Visit http://tinyurl.com/2cpo4an to purchase the book or download a sample that can be read on the Kindle e-reader or on a PC, Mac, Blackberry, Android, or iPhone device using one of Amazon’s free reading apps.
What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective will also soon be available as an ePub file compatible with other popular e-book readers, including Apple’s revolutionary new iPad, Barnes & Noble nook™, and Sony Reader.
Click here to purchase a print version of Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Kindle and Kindle DX are the revolutionary portable e-readers that wirelessly download books, magazines, newspapers, blogs, and personal documents to a crisp, high-resolution electronic ink display that looks and reads like real paper. Kindle and Kindle DX utilize the same 3G wireless technology as advanced cell phones, so users never need to hunt for a Wi-Fi hotspot. Kindle is the most wished for, the most gifted, and the #1 bestselling product on Amazon.com.
Visit http://tinyurl.com/2cpo4an to purchase the book or download a sample that can be read on the Kindle e-reader or on a PC, Mac, Blackberry, Android, or iPhone device using one of Amazon’s free reading apps.
What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective will also soon be available as an ePub file compatible with other popular e-book readers, including Apple’s revolutionary new iPad, Barnes & Noble nook™, and Sony Reader.
Click here to purchase a print version of Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Monday, March 8, 2010
Openness Is a State of Mind
I think something's missing from the collective "openness in adoption" discussion, and I think it's something we can't afford to miss. It's this: before it's anything else, openness is a state of mind.
True openness is acknowledging and respecting the whole of the adoption experience. It's inviting in the entirety of adoption and really meaning it.
For adoptive parents it means so much more than pictures and letters and annual visits with birth family.
It means not just listening, but being genuinely interested in what your adopted child has to say about adoption.
It means believing that your child's experience is (and will always be) different than yours, and accepting that even though you love them, even though they love you, even though they wouldn't want any parents other than you, they have lost people, places and things that matter.
For some adoptive parents, it means accepting that even though you love them, they may not love you the same way, and they may want parents other than you, and as difficult as that is for you, they don't "owe" you anything anymore than biological children "owe" their parents anything. Really not.
It means embracing your child as who they are and celebrating everyone and everything that shapes them - your personal feelings aside.
It means showing (not just telling) your child from day 1 that family is a safe place. It means showing (not just telling) your child how how to explore deep, confusing feelings without falling apart. It means showing (not just telling)your child that you're not threatened by their feelings for anyone else.
It means encouraging your child to think and feel whatever, whenever, however they need to as long as it's not destructive.
It means being mature enough to understand that whatever thoughts, feelings, wishes, fantasies, and experiences there are between your child and their birth family is about them, not you.
It means wanting more than anything for your child to live fully and authentically and always with the certainty of being loved.
It means seeking out other voices - other adoptive parents, adoptees, birth mothers, birth fathers, birth family - and really listening to what they have to say, especially if it's uncomfortable or painful. It means being secure enough to thoughtfully consider their perspective without scurrying into the emotional safety zone of "Oh, that's not going to happen to my child." or "Well, they're just that group of bitter, victims-by-choice."
It means accepting that at some point your precious darling child may self-identify as a bastard.
It means never taking responsibility for your child's feelings and never expecting them to take responsibility for yours.
It means having the confidence that children need their parents to have. It means being very clear about your role as Mom or Dad and very clear about the permanence of your family, because sometimes your child won't be, and if you're not either, it's going to freak them out and do some serious damage.
It means recognizing that everyone experiences life differently. Everyone experiences adoption differently. Everyone experiences parenthood differently. It means getting very comfortable with the fact that you don't speak for anyone but yourself. No one does.
Which is why after thinking a lot about what an open state of mind means for adoptees or birth family, I conclude that I really haven't a clue.
Purchase Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
True openness is acknowledging and respecting the whole of the adoption experience. It's inviting in the entirety of adoption and really meaning it.
For adoptive parents it means so much more than pictures and letters and annual visits with birth family.
It means not just listening, but being genuinely interested in what your adopted child has to say about adoption.
It means believing that your child's experience is (and will always be) different than yours, and accepting that even though you love them, even though they love you, even though they wouldn't want any parents other than you, they have lost people, places and things that matter.
For some adoptive parents, it means accepting that even though you love them, they may not love you the same way, and they may want parents other than you, and as difficult as that is for you, they don't "owe" you anything anymore than biological children "owe" their parents anything. Really not.
It means embracing your child as who they are and celebrating everyone and everything that shapes them - your personal feelings aside.
It means showing (not just telling) your child from day 1 that family is a safe place. It means showing (not just telling) your child how how to explore deep, confusing feelings without falling apart. It means showing (not just telling)your child that you're not threatened by their feelings for anyone else.
It means encouraging your child to think and feel whatever, whenever, however they need to as long as it's not destructive.
It means being mature enough to understand that whatever thoughts, feelings, wishes, fantasies, and experiences there are between your child and their birth family is about them, not you.
It means wanting more than anything for your child to live fully and authentically and always with the certainty of being loved.
It means seeking out other voices - other adoptive parents, adoptees, birth mothers, birth fathers, birth family - and really listening to what they have to say, especially if it's uncomfortable or painful. It means being secure enough to thoughtfully consider their perspective without scurrying into the emotional safety zone of "Oh, that's not going to happen to my child." or "Well, they're just that group of bitter, victims-by-choice."
It means accepting that at some point your precious darling child may self-identify as a bastard.
It means never taking responsibility for your child's feelings and never expecting them to take responsibility for yours.
It means having the confidence that children need their parents to have. It means being very clear about your role as Mom or Dad and very clear about the permanence of your family, because sometimes your child won't be, and if you're not either, it's going to freak them out and do some serious damage.
It means recognizing that everyone experiences life differently. Everyone experiences adoption differently. Everyone experiences parenthood differently. It means getting very comfortable with the fact that you don't speak for anyone but yourself. No one does.
Which is why after thinking a lot about what an open state of mind means for adoptees or birth family, I conclude that I really haven't a clue.
Purchase Sally's adoption book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Friday, February 12, 2010
Award-Winning Writer Publishes Groundbreaking Book on Adoption
Award-winning writer and author Sally Bacchetta announced the release of her new book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective. The book is described as “a tender, revealing look at adoption from the parent perspective.” Whether an adoptive parent, an adoptee, someone considering adoption, or simply curious about adoption dynamics, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent’s Perspective will touch hearts and increase readers' sensitivity to the challenges and joys that are unique to adoptive parenting.Bacchetta wrote the book in response to a need common among adoptive families. “Adoptive families navigate emotional terrain that fully-biological families don’t have to,” said Bacchetta, adoptive mother of two. “This is a book adoptive parents can give to their child and say, ‘I know adoption is painful, unsettling, joyous, and affirming. It’s that way for me too. More than anything, adoption is the way we came together, and I’ll always be grateful for that.’”
“Sally has written a narrative that is heartfelt, honest, and warm,” said Greg Franklin, Esq. and Fellow of the American Academy of Adoption Attorneys. “She’s told her story truthfully and without sugar coating, but also with knowledge from which I would have benefitted had the book been written before my family embarked upon our own journey to adoption. The readers of this book are lucky to have the benefit of Sally’s experience and her shared wisdom, because her story reminds us that we have so much in common.” more
buy the adoption book
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Saturday, November 7, 2009
What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective - Chapter 1 excerpt
What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective is due out by the end of the month. I appreciate all of the supportive blog comments, emails, and phone calls of the last few weeks. Huge thanks to my advance reviewers for your commitment and enthusiasm. It's a very exciting time!
Here's an excerpt from the book:
You know your birth story; I've told it to you many times. But there's one chapter of your story you may not know. It's a chapter that's not so much about you as it is about me. It's my chapter. You see, your birth story is also my birth story, because this mother that I am was born when you were born. You made me a mother. You made me your mother. And for me, our birth story actually began long before you were conceived.
I don't know anyone who dreamed of growing up, getting married, and not being able to have children. I certainly didn't. I assumed that when (if) I decided to have children, one of my perfectly ripe eggs would let her guard down for the most athletic of a throng of swimming suitors, and I would simply get pregnant as women in my family have done for generations. I would have children the regular way, if I decided to have them at all.
I didn't think about adoption much, and when I did it was as a really nice, slightly exotic thing to do. A really nice, slightly exotic thing for other people to do. Older couples who never had children, or people who wear sandals year-round and quit their jobs to become missionaries, or families who fix up old Victorian mansions and seem to collect assorted “children with special needs” or kids from “broken homes.” Adoption was something those people did; not me. Why would I?
After going through a forest worth of tiny test strips I started to think that maybe “it” wasn't going to happen; not without some help, anyway. So I climbed into the stirrups. I consulted the experts. All of my once-private entrances and exits were transversed, transmographed, radiographed, photographed, sanitized, anesthetized, magnified, pulled and pried, palpated, saturated, dilated, inseminated, and evaluated in a series of attempts to get pregnant.
I never realized my own quiet biases about adoption until it became intensely personal. I was angry. I was petulant. I was wounded. And I was painfully surprised to find that I was a snob. It turned out that deep within my most private Self I thought of adoption as a default, a less than, a last resort for people who were out of options. People who had failed to produce their own children. People who couldn't make a family the regular way. People who were desperate or broken. People like me. I didn't want to be people like me.
I resented having to consider adoption. I resented my body for betraying me. I disparaged pregnant teenagers for doing in the back seat what I couldn't do in the sanctity of my marriage. I cried and raged and judged and fumed and after a long while, I accepted. I accepted that things happen the way they happen. I accepted myself and my situation. I accepted that it wasn't really my situation at all, it was ours, your father's and mine. I accepted his perspective and his feelings and his help, and eventually I accepted adoption as legitimate a way as any other of becoming a parent. I began to embrace adoption as the right way for me to become a mother. I grew to cherish the idea and even feel special. Adoption emerged as something self-evident and fulfilling and romantic. I fell in love with the idea of adoption and I began to bond with my child-to-be-adopted-later.
I thought that coming to terms with the idea of adoption would be the most difficult part of the process. Was I ever wrong! The time I spent deciding to adopt was a walk in the park compared to actually doing it. It turns out that adoption is a tremendous hassle. It's intrusive and time-consuming and expensive. Again and again we had to convince strangers that we were fit to parent, while every day brought another story of parents leaving their babies alone in the car or serving alcohol to underage teens. We got fingerprinted and evaluated, looked over and passed up. We gave strangers access to our financial records and our bedroom closets, knowing full well that plenty of biological parents were cruising along with stale batteries in their smoke detectors, pot handles facing out, and wall outlets uncovered.
When you decide to adopt you open your heart to disappointments and near-misses that bring you to your knees. Many times I inched to the very edge of conclusion. Many times I thought, “I'm done. I want out. This is costing me too much of myself.” I finally realized that in those moments when I was closest to surrender I was also closest to peace, and that's when I knew I was ready for you. I knew I was ready to be your mother because I had released my ideal. I had chosen the reality of my motherhood over the dreams of my childhood, and I understood that there was no other way for us to come together.
When I finally held you in my arms, I knew in my heart that I would have waited a hundred years for you. Exactly you. And I would do it all again.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Here's an excerpt from the book:
You know your birth story; I've told it to you many times. But there's one chapter of your story you may not know. It's a chapter that's not so much about you as it is about me. It's my chapter. You see, your birth story is also my birth story, because this mother that I am was born when you were born. You made me a mother. You made me your mother. And for me, our birth story actually began long before you were conceived.
I don't know anyone who dreamed of growing up, getting married, and not being able to have children. I certainly didn't. I assumed that when (if) I decided to have children, one of my perfectly ripe eggs would let her guard down for the most athletic of a throng of swimming suitors, and I would simply get pregnant as women in my family have done for generations. I would have children the regular way, if I decided to have them at all.
I didn't think about adoption much, and when I did it was as a really nice, slightly exotic thing to do. A really nice, slightly exotic thing for other people to do. Older couples who never had children, or people who wear sandals year-round and quit their jobs to become missionaries, or families who fix up old Victorian mansions and seem to collect assorted “children with special needs” or kids from “broken homes.” Adoption was something those people did; not me. Why would I?
After going through a forest worth of tiny test strips I started to think that maybe “it” wasn't going to happen; not without some help, anyway. So I climbed into the stirrups. I consulted the experts. All of my once-private entrances and exits were transversed, transmographed, radiographed, photographed, sanitized, anesthetized, magnified, pulled and pried, palpated, saturated, dilated, inseminated, and evaluated in a series of attempts to get pregnant.
I never realized my own quiet biases about adoption until it became intensely personal. I was angry. I was petulant. I was wounded. And I was painfully surprised to find that I was a snob. It turned out that deep within my most private Self I thought of adoption as a default, a less than, a last resort for people who were out of options. People who had failed to produce their own children. People who couldn't make a family the regular way. People who were desperate or broken. People like me. I didn't want to be people like me.
I resented having to consider adoption. I resented my body for betraying me. I disparaged pregnant teenagers for doing in the back seat what I couldn't do in the sanctity of my marriage. I cried and raged and judged and fumed and after a long while, I accepted. I accepted that things happen the way they happen. I accepted myself and my situation. I accepted that it wasn't really my situation at all, it was ours, your father's and mine. I accepted his perspective and his feelings and his help, and eventually I accepted adoption as legitimate a way as any other of becoming a parent. I began to embrace adoption as the right way for me to become a mother. I grew to cherish the idea and even feel special. Adoption emerged as something self-evident and fulfilling and romantic. I fell in love with the idea of adoption and I began to bond with my child-to-be-adopted-later.
I thought that coming to terms with the idea of adoption would be the most difficult part of the process. Was I ever wrong! The time I spent deciding to adopt was a walk in the park compared to actually doing it. It turns out that adoption is a tremendous hassle. It's intrusive and time-consuming and expensive. Again and again we had to convince strangers that we were fit to parent, while every day brought another story of parents leaving their babies alone in the car or serving alcohol to underage teens. We got fingerprinted and evaluated, looked over and passed up. We gave strangers access to our financial records and our bedroom closets, knowing full well that plenty of biological parents were cruising along with stale batteries in their smoke detectors, pot handles facing out, and wall outlets uncovered.
When you decide to adopt you open your heart to disappointments and near-misses that bring you to your knees. Many times I inched to the very edge of conclusion. Many times I thought, “I'm done. I want out. This is costing me too much of myself.” I finally realized that in those moments when I was closest to surrender I was also closest to peace, and that's when I knew I was ready for you. I knew I was ready to be your mother because I had released my ideal. I had chosen the reality of my motherhood over the dreams of my childhood, and I understood that there was no other way for us to come together.
When I finally held you in my arms, I knew in my heart that I would have waited a hundred years for you. Exactly you. And I would do it all again.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Saturday, October 24, 2009
New Adoption Book - What I Want My Adopted Child to Know
I've waited a long time to be able to post this post, so please forgive me if I strut just a little bit.
My book is done. Done! Yes, that would be the book I've been writing since our daughter was born. D-O-N-E done!!!!!!!!! I can hardly believe it.
If all goes well, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective will be out in time for National Adoption Month. It will be available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, Borders.com, some other online booksellers, and of course, on my Adoptive Parent website.
I'm grateful for the generosity of so many of you in sharing your stories, questions, feedback, insight, and enthusiasm with me throughout the writing of What I Want My Adopted Child to Know. I deeply appreciate every one of you.
Make a fantastic day,
Sally
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
My book is done. Done! Yes, that would be the book I've been writing since our daughter was born. D-O-N-E done!!!!!!!!! I can hardly believe it.
If all goes well, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know: An Adoptive Parent's Perspective will be out in time for National Adoption Month. It will be available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, Borders.com, some other online booksellers, and of course, on my Adoptive Parent website.
I'm grateful for the generosity of so many of you in sharing your stories, questions, feedback, insight, and enthusiasm with me throughout the writing of What I Want My Adopted Child to Know. I deeply appreciate every one of you.
Make a fantastic day,
Sally
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Adoption and Breastfeeding
August is National Breastfeeding Awareness Month. Having neither ever breastfed nor been breastfed, I'm generally respectful of, but unimpressed by, the hyperbole about Mother's Milk. I don't dispute the benefits of nursing, but I don't buy into the propaganda that those benefits are only available through the bare breast.
Bonding and attachment - My bottle-fed daughter and I couldn't be any closer if we shared the same skin. Every feeding was intimate and breathtaking, with our eyes locked on each other and her tiny hand clutching my hair. Now and then her rosebud mouth would pause mid-suck to grin up at me, and I would think, "This may be the moment my heart finally bursts."
My son, currently on the bottle, is happy, confident, attached, easy-going, and delightful. His feedings take much longer than his sisters, because he grins and giggles so much he forgets to suck. Nice "problem" to have.
Immunity - My daughter has always been healthy as an ox. She has never had an ear infection, never had a serious illness, and has far fewer colds than most kids I know. Her immune system is strong, her hair and skin are vibrant, she has a fantastic appetite and boundless energy. My son is in excellent health, strong, and thriving.
Nutrition - Our pediatrician (and father of four) has no problem with the nutritional particulars of the formula we use. Good enough for me.
It's become rather fashionable for adoptive mothers (and, I'm sorry to say, some fathers) to breastfeed, and I just don't get it. Why pump and massage and pop pills... when it's most likely that even if you can produce some milk it won't be enough to meet the baby's needs? Do people really believe that bottle-feeding is significantly inferior for both baby and mother (father)?
Am I over-thinking if I suggest that if you're that driven to breastfeed maybe you're not as OK with adopting as you thought you were? Maybe you're feeding something inside you, rather than your baby.
I don't mean to sound insensitive. Gosh knows there's too much badgering on both sides of the breastfeeding issue, and I'm not looking to start any fights. Maybe I'm ignorant about it because as I said at the beginning of this post, I have zero personal experience with nursing.
Or maybe I just don't get it because I just don't get it. Hey, I think people drinking cow's milk is creepy, so I know I've got skews in my perspective.
What is your experience with this? I'd like to know what you think.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Bonding and attachment - My bottle-fed daughter and I couldn't be any closer if we shared the same skin. Every feeding was intimate and breathtaking, with our eyes locked on each other and her tiny hand clutching my hair. Now and then her rosebud mouth would pause mid-suck to grin up at me, and I would think, "This may be the moment my heart finally bursts."
My son, currently on the bottle, is happy, confident, attached, easy-going, and delightful. His feedings take much longer than his sisters, because he grins and giggles so much he forgets to suck. Nice "problem" to have.
Immunity - My daughter has always been healthy as an ox. She has never had an ear infection, never had a serious illness, and has far fewer colds than most kids I know. Her immune system is strong, her hair and skin are vibrant, she has a fantastic appetite and boundless energy. My son is in excellent health, strong, and thriving.
Nutrition - Our pediatrician (and father of four) has no problem with the nutritional particulars of the formula we use. Good enough for me.
It's become rather fashionable for adoptive mothers (and, I'm sorry to say, some fathers) to breastfeed, and I just don't get it. Why pump and massage and pop pills... when it's most likely that even if you can produce some milk it won't be enough to meet the baby's needs? Do people really believe that bottle-feeding is significantly inferior for both baby and mother (father)?
Am I over-thinking if I suggest that if you're that driven to breastfeed maybe you're not as OK with adopting as you thought you were? Maybe you're feeding something inside you, rather than your baby.
I don't mean to sound insensitive. Gosh knows there's too much badgering on both sides of the breastfeeding issue, and I'm not looking to start any fights. Maybe I'm ignorant about it because as I said at the beginning of this post, I have zero personal experience with nursing.
Or maybe I just don't get it because I just don't get it. Hey, I think people drinking cow's milk is creepy, so I know I've got skews in my perspective.
What is your experience with this? I'd like to know what you think.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Reunion With Birth Mom - FAQ For Family And Friends
Very soon we're reuniting with our son's birth mother ("J") and her parents. Rather than continuing to have nearly the same conversation with various and sundry family and friends (eight times and counting), I've decided to post this FAQ for easy reference by all interested parties.
Q: Why are you going to meet with them?
A: Because we told them we would. We discussed it before "J" left the hospital; it's important to her, and therefore, important to us.
Q: What does she want from you? She must want something...?
A: She wants respect. A warm hello. Probably a burp cloth when she holds him.
Q: Aren't you afraid?
A: Most definitely. I'm afraid of what college will cost when our kids finish high school. I'm afraid of finding a lump. I'm afraid of reaching under the house to clear out some leaves and feeling a snake wrap around my fingers. I'm afraid of being home alone when there are Dove bars in the freezer. That's what I'm afraid of.
Q: Why does she want to see him?
A: Uhhh... well, I've never carried another human being in my body, but from what I understand, there's a bit of a connection that develops between mother and child. Don't you look forward to seeing people you were once close with?
Q: Is it legal for her to want to see him?
A: As far as I know U.S. citizens are entitled to want whatever they please. The law generally applies to actions, not emotions.
Q: Won't it be painful for her to have to say goodbye to him again?
A: I'm not her, so I don't know. I'm sure it was no picnic to carry a child for nine months knowing she wasn't going to raise him. She was able to make the decisions for adoption, so I'm sure she can make this one.
Q: So, you don't think she'll want him back?
A: I can't know for certain what anyone else wants, but a few minutes after he was born she told me she wants him to have a stable home with a loving mother, father, and big sister; she wants him to have a better life than what she can give him; she wants him to be safe, happy, and important; and she wants him to always know why she chose adoption for him - because she loves him. He's our son, by love, law, and destiny. She made that happen.
We really enjoyed the time we spent in the hospital with "J" and her parents, and I'm looking forward to our reunion. Baby Boy has come to look so much like "J" and her father... I can't wait for them to see him!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Q: Why are you going to meet with them?
A: Because we told them we would. We discussed it before "J" left the hospital; it's important to her, and therefore, important to us.
Q: What does she want from you? She must want something...?
A: She wants respect. A warm hello. Probably a burp cloth when she holds him.
Q: Aren't you afraid?
A: Most definitely. I'm afraid of what college will cost when our kids finish high school. I'm afraid of finding a lump. I'm afraid of reaching under the house to clear out some leaves and feeling a snake wrap around my fingers. I'm afraid of being home alone when there are Dove bars in the freezer. That's what I'm afraid of.
Q: Why does she want to see him?
A: Uhhh... well, I've never carried another human being in my body, but from what I understand, there's a bit of a connection that develops between mother and child. Don't you look forward to seeing people you were once close with?
Q: Is it legal for her to want to see him?
A: As far as I know U.S. citizens are entitled to want whatever they please. The law generally applies to actions, not emotions.
Q: Won't it be painful for her to have to say goodbye to him again?
A: I'm not her, so I don't know. I'm sure it was no picnic to carry a child for nine months knowing she wasn't going to raise him. She was able to make the decisions for adoption, so I'm sure she can make this one.
Q: So, you don't think she'll want him back?
A: I can't know for certain what anyone else wants, but a few minutes after he was born she told me she wants him to have a stable home with a loving mother, father, and big sister; she wants him to have a better life than what she can give him; she wants him to be safe, happy, and important; and she wants him to always know why she chose adoption for him - because she loves him. He's our son, by love, law, and destiny. She made that happen.
We really enjoyed the time we spent in the hospital with "J" and her parents, and I'm looking forward to our reunion. Baby Boy has come to look so much like "J" and her father... I can't wait for them to see him!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Friday, July 3, 2009
Blogging About Adoption: Adopter's Guilt
I'm ready to admit that I struggle with blogging about adoption, and the struggle surprises me. I have no mixed feelings to get in my way... no ongoing grief or frustration to impede me. In fact, I have been twice-blessed with adoptions that exceeded even my wildest hopes. Twice-blessed with healthy newborns adopted domestically after meeting their birth mothers, who are two of the most fabulous young women on the planet, and an adoption attorney who is compassionate, wise, and professionally impeccable. No drama. No trauma. No hardship worth counting, other than financial, and that burden is universal among adoptive parents.
So, what's my problem? I've thought about it a lot, and I finally realize my "problem" is exactly that I have been twice-blessed with adoptions that exceeded even my wildest hopes. I call it Adopter's Guilt.
My "problem" is that when I go on the website of the adoption agency we used, I see faces and faces and faces of people waiting to adopt, eager to adopt, some desperate to adopt. Some of these faces I know personally, others I know from reading their profiles online. Though their smiling pictures beam, "Notice me! Pick us! We'd be great parents!", I know that as day after day slips away Doubt plods in with a heavy step and whispers, "Why has no one noticed you? Why has no one picked you? Perhaps you're not meant to be parents after all. Ever."
My "problem" is that adoption has brought people into my life. People like Michelle, who of everyone I know is among the most full of love and life and promise, yet she waits and waits and waits, with growing despair. People like Charlene, who waited 7 years for an adoption match and has suffered - since the day she brought her daughter home - with debilitating depression and self-doubt. People like Dara and Jeff, whose post-adoption experience has been a devastating legal nightmare. People like the birth mothers who write to me about feeling remorseful or inadequate or shut out.
My "problem" is that adoption means gain for some and loss for others. There are winners and losers, chosen and unchosen, the triumphant and the defeated. Some of us are made whole by adoption and others are broken apart by it.
My struggle to blog about adoption is really a struggle to reconcile the irreconcilable. Why me? I have no idea. Why not you? I have no idea.
I can't change anyone else's timeline any more than I could have changed my own. I do believe that everything happens in the right way at the right time (whatever that means), and that we almost never understand that until we're looking back.
I'm supremely grateful to be one of those looking back. I trust that you will be too.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
So, what's my problem? I've thought about it a lot, and I finally realize my "problem" is exactly that I have been twice-blessed with adoptions that exceeded even my wildest hopes. I call it Adopter's Guilt.
My "problem" is that when I go on the website of the adoption agency we used, I see faces and faces and faces of people waiting to adopt, eager to adopt, some desperate to adopt. Some of these faces I know personally, others I know from reading their profiles online. Though their smiling pictures beam, "Notice me! Pick us! We'd be great parents!", I know that as day after day slips away Doubt plods in with a heavy step and whispers, "Why has no one noticed you? Why has no one picked you? Perhaps you're not meant to be parents after all. Ever."
My "problem" is that adoption has brought people into my life. People like Michelle, who of everyone I know is among the most full of love and life and promise, yet she waits and waits and waits, with growing despair. People like Charlene, who waited 7 years for an adoption match and has suffered - since the day she brought her daughter home - with debilitating depression and self-doubt. People like Dara and Jeff, whose post-adoption experience has been a devastating legal nightmare. People like the birth mothers who write to me about feeling remorseful or inadequate or shut out.
My "problem" is that adoption means gain for some and loss for others. There are winners and losers, chosen and unchosen, the triumphant and the defeated. Some of us are made whole by adoption and others are broken apart by it.
My struggle to blog about adoption is really a struggle to reconcile the irreconcilable. Why me? I have no idea. Why not you? I have no idea.
I can't change anyone else's timeline any more than I could have changed my own. I do believe that everything happens in the right way at the right time (whatever that means), and that we almost never understand that until we're looking back.
I'm supremely grateful to be one of those looking back. I trust that you will be too.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Foster Care Families - Genesee Valley Parent Magazine
I've been reading the Genesee Valley Parent since before I was a parent. It's a great resource for all things parenting.
I wrote the feature story for the May 2009 issue - Foster Care Families: Safety, Support and Care for Children in Need. I hope you'll check it out!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
I wrote the feature story for the May 2009 issue - Foster Care Families: Safety, Support and Care for Children in Need. I hope you'll check it out!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Worth The Wait Boutique
I love sharing cool adoption-related things with you, and Elizabeth and Mike Lowe's
Worth The Wait Boutique is both cool and adoption-related.
In their words: "We designed this boutique for two purposes. One is to highlight items that we found helpful while either waiting or when we brought our son home. Second is to promote and highlight products made by other adoptive parents such as ourselves... 10% of all sales on this site go to an adoption related organization. We had lots of support as we went through our adoption process and this is just one way we feel we can give back."
They've got a great collection of adoption-themed stickers, scrapbooking supplies, clothing, stationery, and a link to their Baby Sweet Pea boutique. Beautiful, adorable... check it out!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Worth The Wait Boutique is both cool and adoption-related.
In their words: "We designed this boutique for two purposes. One is to highlight items that we found helpful while either waiting or when we brought our son home. Second is to promote and highlight products made by other adoptive parents such as ourselves... 10% of all sales on this site go to an adoption related organization. We had lots of support as we went through our adoption process and this is just one way we feel we can give back."
They've got a great collection of adoption-themed stickers, scrapbooking supplies, clothing, stationery, and a link to their Baby Sweet Pea boutique. Beautiful, adorable... check it out!
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Friday, March 13, 2009
He's He-re!
Tuesday night, March 10th, we finally got The Call. A birth mother had chosen us to adopt her baby, and if we were willing to make a leap of faith and drive across the state, she'd like to meet us as soon as possible. And oh, by the way, she's been induced and is hoping we can make it in time for the delivery. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT????? Hmm... let me think about that for about .0000003 second!
Long story short, our son was born in the wee hours of Wed. March 11th. We were there in time and we held him immediately after.
We were doubly blessed to be able to spend a few days in the hospital with our son's birth mother and both of her parents. By the time we headed home we all felt like family.
Our daughter's reaction added uber-coolness to the whole experience. She was (and still is) beside herself with joy and pride at being a big sister. She was like a little carnival barker her first day back at school. "Who else would like a turn to meet my new baby brother?" She wore her "I'm a Big Sister" t-shirt to school three times that week. My motherly instinct (you can't wear the same shirt to school three days in a row!) didn't stand a chance against her beaming smile. Besides, every time I look at her in that shirt I break out in tears. She's waited a long time for a sibling, and on top of that, it was our son's birth mother who bought that shirt for our daughter in the hospital gift shop. She bought him his first teddy bear and said she didn't want to give a gift to him without giving something to his sister, too.
Yeah, I'm crying again. There is a post-partum component to adoption that no one tells you about! :)
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Long story short, our son was born in the wee hours of Wed. March 11th. We were there in time and we held him immediately after.
We were doubly blessed to be able to spend a few days in the hospital with our son's birth mother and both of her parents. By the time we headed home we all felt like family.
Our daughter's reaction added uber-coolness to the whole experience. She was (and still is) beside herself with joy and pride at being a big sister. She was like a little carnival barker her first day back at school. "Who else would like a turn to meet my new baby brother?" She wore her "I'm a Big Sister" t-shirt to school three times that week. My motherly instinct (you can't wear the same shirt to school three days in a row!) didn't stand a chance against her beaming smile. Besides, every time I look at her in that shirt I break out in tears. She's waited a long time for a sibling, and on top of that, it was our son's birth mother who bought that shirt for our daughter in the hospital gift shop. She bought him his first teddy bear and said she didn't want to give a gift to him without giving something to his sister, too.
Yeah, I'm crying again. There is a post-partum component to adoption that no one tells you about! :)
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Adoption Financial Assistance
Economic instability affects adoption in at least two significant ways: more babies and children are placed for adoption, and prospective adoptive parents are more challenged by the financial burden of adoption.
Domestic adoption in the U.S. typically costs anywhere from $12,00 to $20,000 (more, in some cases), depending on medical, legal, agency, and travel expenses. International adoption may cost more or less, depending on similar variables. And as any parent knows, that's just the beginning!
Help Us Adopt is a national non-profit 501 (c)3 financial assistance grant program that will provide qualified couples and individuals (regardless of race, religion, marital status or sexual preference) with grants of up to $15,000 towards their adoption expenses. You can review their FAQs and download a grant application from the website.
The Financial Aspect of Adoption is an article on Suite 101.com that offers a variety of strategies for funding your adoption.
Please let me know of other resources you've found helpful. I'll be happy to post them here.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Domestic adoption in the U.S. typically costs anywhere from $12,00 to $20,000 (more, in some cases), depending on medical, legal, agency, and travel expenses. International adoption may cost more or less, depending on similar variables. And as any parent knows, that's just the beginning!
Help Us Adopt is a national non-profit 501 (c)3 financial assistance grant program that will provide qualified couples and individuals (regardless of race, religion, marital status or sexual preference) with grants of up to $15,000 towards their adoption expenses. You can review their FAQs and download a grant application from the website.
The Financial Aspect of Adoption is an article on Suite 101.com that offers a variety of strategies for funding your adoption.
Please let me know of other resources you've found helpful. I'll be happy to post them here.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Adopting Snowflakes
People often ask if waiting for our second child is easier than waiting for our first. Absolutely. And no way. It's just different.
I had no frame of reference the first time. I knew I wanted a child, but the want was a general feeling of wanting to grow my family. I wanted a baby to hold, a toddler to play with, a child to teach about faith and integrity.
Now I know the intimacy and intricacy I was missing. Now I know that I want a baby with spring-loaded fingers and translucent eyelids. I want chub-a-licious drumstick thighs and a sweet-smelling head. Now I know that I want a toddler to pee all over the bathroom and mop it up with my pillow and proudly announce "It's OK, Mama. I cweaned it all by myself!" Now I know that I want a child to say "Even when I'm upset, Mama, I always love you."
Now I know what I was missing, and that makes the second wait more painful. At the same time, it's much, much easier waiting for my second child, because I have been blessed with my first. By turns captivating, aggravating, inspiring, and tiring, she will always be My First.
Every adoption experience is different. Every one is unique and beautiful in its way. Just like snowflakes.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
I had no frame of reference the first time. I knew I wanted a child, but the want was a general feeling of wanting to grow my family. I wanted a baby to hold, a toddler to play with, a child to teach about faith and integrity.
Now I know the intimacy and intricacy I was missing. Now I know that I want a baby with spring-loaded fingers and translucent eyelids. I want chub-a-licious drumstick thighs and a sweet-smelling head. Now I know that I want a toddler to pee all over the bathroom and mop it up with my pillow and proudly announce "It's OK, Mama. I cweaned it all by myself!" Now I know that I want a child to say "Even when I'm upset, Mama, I always love you."
Now I know what I was missing, and that makes the second wait more painful. At the same time, it's much, much easier waiting for my second child, because I have been blessed with my first. By turns captivating, aggravating, inspiring, and tiring, she will always be My First.
Every adoption experience is different. Every one is unique and beautiful in its way. Just like snowflakes.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
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