TMI extracted

I had a interaction with a very nosey woman at the pharmacy I stopped in at today.  It all happened so fast that by the end of it, which included the time it took for me to pay and wait for my change, I realized how much information this woman got out of me about my daughter and I almost felt violated. And frustrated with myself for answering any of her questions.

You just don't know how far people will take things when the line of questioning starts. Most of the time it's the usual three questions and then they get the picture, but not this woman. Oh man did she interrogate me.  I just didn't see it coming.

The exchange went something like this. By the way, this slew of questions took place in about 60 seconds, well before I realized it would have been much better to have been rude and cut it off at the beginning. I need to get better at this. Ugh.

Lady: Is she your daughter?
Me: Yes (smiling)
Lady: So are you American?
Me: Yes (looking away thinking, here we go)
Lady: So you live here?
Me: Yes
Lady: Are you married?
Me: Yes, almost 10 years (I'm proud of that and was happy to share it)
Lady: So your husband is Filipino?
Me: No
Lady: Huh? (confused look) But... (examining Ella with her eyes, meanwhile I'm thinking, please stop here, please clue in before I have to spell it out for you)
Me: She's adopted (I smile and wink at Ella)
Lady: So you were not able to have a child?
Me: Not yet! (smiling and trying to look positive. I said this knowing what she was asking me but thinking, I have a child, so I guess we were able!)
Lady: Does she know she's adopted?
Me: Yes! (exasperated tone, because jeez, I just told you that, in front of her, thank God this is not how my daughter learns that she is adopted you crazy lady!)
Lady: So does she see her Mom? She sees her mom often, right?
Me: Umm, No! (THANK GOD my change finally came from the other sales woman and I could walk out the door... As I walked away I screamed in my head, feeling very protective, YEAH SHE SEES HER MOM.  I AM HER MOM! This wasn't some under-the-table deal. What does this woman think?)

You see there is this stigma with adoption here. Families who can't conceive will often adopt a baby from a family they know or have heard of who have more than their fair share. This is done illegally and many times secretly because it is shameful for a couple to not be able to bear a child. I can't tell you how many times this kind of thing was attempted during my time at the maternity clinic. The birth mom asking us to write someone else's name on the birth certificate that she planned to give her baby to.  Sometimes the child is brought up without ever knowing they were adopted. Or even worse, I've heard of situations where the child joins the new family and is more of a second-rate child than a beloved family member. I mean, you know, you have your kids and then you have YOUR kids. My British friend who has 2 biological and 3 adopted children gets this all the time. "So which ones are yours?"

I know all this about local, under-the-table adoption in the Philippines. And it makes me angry to think that someone would apply any of that cultural stigma to my child and think that I adopted her illegally.  After all that we went through to get her I can feel so defensive. And so there is a part of me that wants to share just enough so that they know that our situation is not typical and that I love my daughter as if I carried her in my body for 9 months.  I did carry her actually.  I carried her for years and she grew, as did my love for her well before I knew her name.  And it is so freaking official, it couldn't be any more above-board.

So there. I just wanted to declare that.

I feel like a Momma Bear.  ROAR!!!

Ella and Roo

Ella has a special friend - a little purple puppy she affectionately calls Roo, after the young kangaroo character from Winnie the Pooh.  Ella loves Roo and is with him nearly all day and night.  She brings him wherever she goes.  If she happens to forget about him, she will ask, "Where Roo go?... Roo crying!" and run to find him.  When she is not dressing Roo or changing his bum, she is carrying him in the "baby carrier."

She has found so many ways to carry Roo.  I see now how silly those play baby carriers are for kids that one can buy.  Who needs 'em?  All you need is a scarf, blanket or in this case a removable apron strap.

The other type of baby carrier that Ella uses is a "pouch," which of course is appropriate for a small purple kangaroo. 

Here she is with Roo in the pouch but covered with a long shirt.  I love how she has her arms around her Roo-filled pouch, just like a pregnant woman.  She is so nurturing and affectionate with her "babies."

I was so impressed with this one.  I guess there wasn't enough space in her jeans so she grabbed her bathing suit and put it on. 

She also loves to "feed" Roo.  You can't really see it here but she has her shirt pulled down from the top to expose her nipple so she can line Roo up just right.  After all, positioning is important for a good latch.  ;-)  I have my good friend Hanna to thank for modeling this effective, over the top (no pun intended), nursing style.

She is so into Winnie the Pooh these days.  She has adapted Pooh's common expression of "Rumbly in my tumbly" and has made it her own.  She often lifts her shirt, rubs her tummy and says, "Oh YES! Tummy rumble!!" And it is the cutest thing ever. 

She is such a precious girl.  I am enjoying her so much.

Are we there yet?

I find myself in the throes of potty training... again.  Sigh.

I posted back in September that my daughter was potty-trained.  That declaration was premature.  It came after two weeks of potty success and was the day before she decided she didn't want to give up diapers just yet.

I had initiated this "potty-training" a few weeks before her 3rd birthday.  I did this because she had been showing interest and signs of readiness.  For months previous to this, I polled friends, asked for advice, waited and waited and decided it was time to give it a shot.  It worked for a while and then I gave up when it became clear that it wasn't working anymore.  As I got more and more worked up about it (and got worked up about getting worked up) I realized that I needed to back off and not risk causing damage to her sensitive, developing character. 

Another factor I have to admit was the fact that she was about to turn three, which at some point had become an arbitrary marker and outer limit of when she should be out of diapers.  I'm not sure where I got that except that it seemed most of my friends had their kids potty-trained well before age three.  And so I felt pressured.  Not by anyone directly, mind you.  No one has ever said anything to me to make me feel like I was doing a bad job nor questioned or judged me about why my daughter was still in diapers.  It was simply pressure I had put on myself after comparing my daughter to her friends.  And here lies lesson #1,488 of the undoubtedly infinite number of lessons I am to learn as a parent:  Don't compare your child to other kids her age.  I must do what I feel is best for her and not let myself be swayed by what other people may think.  Like duh!

Another thing I did wrong was that I made a big deal out of it.  I got excited. I thought we had arrived. I praised her when she did it and reminded her when I was afraid she'd have an accident.  What those two weeks in September taught me (and many other diaper-free hours since then) is that she can do it.  She knows she can do it.  She knows I know she can do it.  There isn't any "training" to be done.  I just have to wait till she decides she wants to and is ready. 

It helps me to think of all the strides she has made in the past six months in regard to her level of security and independence. It seems a lot to expect that she will jump ahead with this at the same time. We've only been together 16 months so why I am expecting her to be on the same time line as a child who's been with the same mommy since birth?  In every other area we have strived to let her lead and wait till she showed us she was ready for a new level of independence. This shouldn't be any different.

So everyday for the past 4+ months we have given her the option and let her choose diapers or undies.  Up until about a week ago she was consistently choosing diapers.  Except for the occasional reminder that one day when she's ready she will not need diapers anymore, I haven't said much and have remained very laid back, hoping and trusting that at some point things will change. 

Last week she started choosing undies more often but only for part of a day. One day last week she chose to wear underwear all day even though we were going to be out most of the day.  She did amazing.  We went to a friend's house for a play date and she did great. Then we went to a birthday party and she was 100% successful again.  Either she told me when she had to go or I'd clue in to some cues and ask her and she'd agree to go.  I couldn't believe it.  Each time she used the toilet I just tried not to make a big deal of it and act as if it was perfectly normal but occasionally I'd let my excitement take over and I would say something like, "Wow Ella good job! What a big girl thing to do!" I was so excited that evening when I reported to Andrey how the day went.  He told me not to get too excited.  I suspected he was right but was feeling extremely hopeful.

The next day she chose diapers and only diapers for several days following.  Then today she chose undies even though we were going out.  She did great in the morning but by the afternoon refused to use the potty even though she was giving cues that she needed to go.  I didn't push it and we ended up with pee on the car seat on our way home.  Later at home I knew she needed to go but she was resistant to using the toilet and that's when I started to feel really frustrated.  At this point I just don't get it. 

I'm frustrated because I have been patient and willing to stay put for a while.  I wait until she gets behind the wheel, pulls up next to me and says, "Hey mommy let's do this!"  At first I'm just enjoying the ride, not saying a word, preparing myself for her to pull over any minute. But then we get a ways down the road and I begin to see our destination and it's so close and it looks so fun. So fun that I imagine that we're already there and I start talking about how great it is. And then suddenly she slams on the brakes puts the car in park and starts walking back in the opposite direction.

I guess I thought it would just happen all at once with her deciding she was ready and never going back.  I figure she probably picks up on my hopeful excitement as nudging her to move forward and she begins to feel like she's not in charge anymore so she pushes back.

I really am trying not to get so excited, let her have as much control as possible and keep my expectations low.  I can do it for a while but dang it, I'm human and no matter how hard I try I just don't like living in this tension of thinking maybe we are there but oh not yet.  I have resolved myself to not putting on pressure and waiting for her to do this in her timing but this stopping and starting is just frustrating and sometimes I let my emotions get the best of me. 

I just needed to vent about that. 

As I take a deep breath at the end of today I realize that we have had more progress in this area in the past week than we've seen in months.  We have to be getting closer.  Maybe she just needs to make a few stops along the way and I should just enjoy the ride and not get so caught up with where we are going.  I can resolve to start fresh again tomorrow with a loving and accepting attitude of whatever she chooses and help her to feel in control again.  I haven't totally screwed this up again, yet, I don't think.  I can do better tomorrow as I remind myself that she has to be the one to initiate this.  It has to be up to her to set the pace.  If I can keep my mouth shut!

If this is what my gorgeous daughter wants to do with those cute little undies that have been sitting in her closet for the past year, then so be it. 

I mean, how many parents can say their child can swim before they are out of diapers?  

Sunday Morning Snapshot

It's a rainy morning but that didn't stop Ella's morning walk with her Daddy

Oh the joy of morning coffee...
(roasted by our very own brother-in-law)

And helpers in the kitchen

Cornmeal whole wheat pancakes with pears and cinnamon
are made complete with Nova Scotia maple syrup

Happy girl loves her bacon and syrup with a little pancake on the side

Midwifery is 'With Woman'

A mother of four prays for rice.  She doesn't have enough to feed her kids.  She had a baby last month. Her husband is out of work.  There is a job.  It's his, but only if he can come up with 300 pesos up-front for a uniform.

I have never gone unwillingly without food.  I have no idea what it's like to be hungry and wonder where my next meal will come from, much less worry about my children's next meal.  I want to have a baby so badly and often wonder why it is so difficult for us when there are plenty of women out there who have more than they would have chosen.  Our stories and experiences could not be more different.

She is my friend, inasmuch as I've been given the opportunity to come alongside her during her pregnancy, to add to the minimal prenatal care she was receiving - to pray for her during her labor and to help her pay her clinic bill so she can go home the day after she delivered a healthy baby boy.  I checked on them a few days after she delivered to screen for any problems since the private clinic told her to come back after a week... so they could remove the cord clamp.  She and her husband saved one-third of the clinic's normal delivery cost during her pregnancy and that was not easy for them.  By the grace of God her husband had work during that time.

To deliver with a trained midwife at a private clinic or a doctor at the public hospital (and both options can be sketchy) it costs at least 3,000 pesos ($70 USD) if everything goes normally.  When urban poor Filipinos live on less than $2 USD a day, how can they be expected to afford basic maternity care? And when things go wrong?. . . 

I cared for her during her last pregnancy three years ago, back when I was still only dreaming of becoming a mom.  Her labor was long.  Too long for the protocols at the clinic where I worked so she had to be transferred to hospital.  I made sure she and her husband had what they needed to deliver there and she ended up delivering normally without any augmentation.  They were so grateful they gave me a beautiful silver necklace with a bamboo and silver charm in the shape of a slipper.  I didn't want to take it but knew it was their way of doing what they could to pay me back so I received it with joy.

I want to be with woman nearly as much as I want to be with child.  When I care for a woman such as this I find myself in an overly-enthusiastic, nearly-giddy state.  These people must think I'm crazy, I tell myself, but they already do - not because of my over-excitement at getting to do a baby and mom check-up after my first 16 months of motherhood, but because I do not fit their presuppositions about white women.

Being white is synonymous with being rich and while compared to them I am exceptionally rich, it's true that I don't fit the description of a rich mommy in the Philippines because I don't bring my nanny along or even have one and I do drive my own car, a dirty one at that.  In the Philippines, if you can afford a car you can afford a driver, and a driver then keeps your car pristine and clean at all times. Image is highly-valued by Filipinos and I pretty much drive around town in a car that looks like it just drove in from a long road trip...  all the way from America. 

I've been doing a lot of day-dreaming and praying lately.  I LOVE being a mom but I also recently realized that I REALLY miss working as a midwife.  I want to come alongside women in my neighborhood as they walk through pregnancy, birth and the postpartum period.  I want to become their friend, learn about their lives and see where it leads.