Born in My Heart

Most of you know my story, so I won't provide a step-by step (you're welcome). Some of you may not know that my child is adopted...I don't try to hide it, but honestly, I don't think about it very often. But every Mother's Day is very emotional for me and I feel compelled to write.

Jack and I decided to start a family in 1998. Over the next 7 years, we went through a miscarriage, a bizarre ectopic pregnancy, 2 surgeries to remove fibroid tumors, and hours and hours of expensive fertility treatments including fertility drugs, artificial insemination and 2 rounds of in-vitro. The first round of in-vitro was initially successful, but when I went to a follow up ultrasound, it was discovered that the embryo had planted itself in my tube. My doctor had only seen this one other time after an IVF treatment...it is unusual because the embryo is initially placed in the uterus and it worked it's way backward into the tube. The most devastating thing was seeing it on the ultrasound and seeing it moving, which was it's heartbeat, and knowing that it was not a viable pregnancy. That was devastating. I couldn't understand why God had brought me that far, just to take it away from me in the most heart breaking way possible. My faith was tested, BIG TIME!!!

After the 2nd round of IVF was unsuccessful, we were unwilling to spend any more money on it, when there was no guarantee...and there IS no guarantee...as a matter of fact success rates are amazingly low...15-30%.

Infertility is a very lonely place. As my friends were getting pregnant and having babies, it was a real struggle for me. You want to be happy for them, but my, is it hard. I remember going into the depths of my closet, so no one would find me or hear me and crying my heart out. I couldn't understand why God was allowing this to happen to me. Every time I would hear a story about a teenager having multiple children or a mother killing her child, I would seethe...HOW COULD GOD GIVE THEM A CHILD AND NOT ME???? That was such a lonely and sad time in my life.

Jack and I decided to try adoption. We had spent a lot of money on fertility treatments, so we decided an expensive adoption was out of the question. We decided to go through DHS, which would be no cost to us. Honestly, we weren't hopeful...we did not feel competent to care for child with extreme special needs and we knew it would be unlikely to get a baby, let alone a young child. But, at this point, what did we have to lose? This might be our last shot! We started the process of contacting a social worker and filling out the paperwork. We gave up our Saturdays for a month or so to take classes on how to care for children that had been removed from their homes and might have a multitude of issues. We did a homestudy, medical evaluation and fingerprint and background checks. We made a scrapbook of our lives and submitted everything to DHS. And then we waited...

We got the phone call a couple of weeks later. We had been matched with a child and we set up an appointment to meet with DHS to see if we were interested in the child we were matched with. At the meeting, this was the picture that we were given:

A beautiful, healthy 22 month old boy! I was instantly in love! This child had been living with his great grandparents, who were in their late 70's, and as much as they loved him, they knew it was not fair to him for them to adopt him. So, they selflessly gave him up for adoption. We are forever grateful to them that they made that decision.

Cameron moved into our home within a month and the adoption was finalized on July 5, 2005, one day before mine and Jack's 9th wedding anniversary. It had been a LONG seven year process, but finally, I knew why we had been through everything. God had just been waiting for us to get out of HIS way, so that he could place this precious child in our arms.

Here he is 5 years later, at 7 years old:

And so, on this Mother's Day, I dedicate this poem to my son, who gave me the gift of being his mom. I love him with all my heart and without him, my life would not be complete. I don't know the author, but it says my sentiments exactly...

"Not flesh of my flesh, Not bone of my bone

But still, miraculously, my own.

And never forget for a minute

You weren't born under my heart, but in it."

The Cup My Grandma Made

Today was a cold and gray day and a good day for soup for lunch! So, I heated up some soup out of the can (yes, I do occassionally eat food from a can!) and was looking for a bowl to eat out of. This is what I reached for:

I've seen this cup before and have eaten out of many times, but today, for some reason, it really hit me. My grandma made this cup.

My grandma has been gone for 6 months now. Today, when I grabbed this bowl and looked inside...it all came rushing back to me. Here's what was inside:

Her name...Audree Tull. I was her only grandchild.

This cup was made when my grandma, my mother and I went on a women's retreat with their church. I don't even know how many years ago that was...maybe around 10. At the time, I wasn't overly excited to go, but now, I'm glad that I did. It was probably the last time that I really spent any time with my grandma. The three of us were the only 3-generation family there. That was neat.

As I put the soup and crackers in my bowl and started eating, it's like I was transformed into a little girl again, remembering how close we once were. I remembered going to stay over at her house every Friday night possible. I remembered her teaching me the capitals to all 50 states (and I still remember most of them!), I remembered going into her pantry and playing grocery store, I remembered her green rotary phone...she would tape down the hang up switch and give me a pad of paper and a pen, so that I could pretend that I was talking on the phone and taking notes. I remembered my favorite snack that she would make for me...a slice of bread with butter and sugar sprinkled on it. I remembered her scratching my back at night until she fell asleep. And doing flips over the ottoman in her living room ~ I thought I was such a gymnast! Going with her to deliver Meals on Wheels...So many memories came flooding back. That was my life as a young girl! I loved being with my Nana!

Once I became a teenager, I preferred hanging out with my friends, so I rarely stayed at her house anymore. I didn't think about it at the time, but I'm sure that was sad for her. When I was a senior in high school and my dad took a job in Seattle, I wanted to stay in Tulsa and graduate with my friends. My grandparents let my mom and me live with them for that year. At the time, I never even thought about how we probably disrupted their lives. Living with me during high school was not fun, I'm sure!

I think I took advantage of the fact that she was always there...I thought every body got to see their grandparents as much as I did...I didn't realize at the time how truly lucky I was.

My grandpa passed away in 1997. After that, my grandma really lost her zest for life. They were married over 49 years. I don't think she ever felt comfortable living life after he was gone and that made me sad. I wanted her to be grateful to be alive, instead, she prayed every night that she wouldn't wake up. Finally, last August, her prayer was answered. She was 97 and in really poor health and last time I saw her, I wasn't even sure if she knew that I was there. It was time...I knew it and I had accepted it and while it made me sad, it was comforting knowing that she was finally at peace again.

I miss her...not the grandma that I had for the last 12 years of her life, but the Nana that I grew up with. She loved life and her family and loved to the fullest extent...sometimes to my chagrin. Nearly every thing she did was in service to others. Now I realize what an HONOR it was to have her as my grandma. And I'm sad that Cameron never got to know her like I did. All he knew was that she was OLD!

As I was taking all this in, my eyes filled with tears. I'm not even really sure why. Maybe it's the first time that I realized that I won't ever see her again...at least until it's my turn to go. Maybe it's because I never told her how much I admired her or how grateful I was for all the things she did for me. I know I told her I loved her and I hope, at the end, she knew that I did. Or maybe it was because I was transformed into that little girl and wondered what my life would have been like if she hadn't have been there. As a child, she was a safe haven for me. My grandparents were my rock, at times, when the world around me was crumbling. She loved me with everything that she had and always wanted the best for me and did everything in her power to make my dreams come true.

I've thought about her all day. It was just a cup, but it held so many memories for me...and I won't ever look at it the same way again.

Here's a picture of me with my Nana and Papa. I'm going to guess it was taken in the early 80's.

My Kid and Sports

Well, here it is...my first non-recipe post! Since my blog is titled "Sports Mom Cooks", I thought I needed to throw in some "sports" and "mom."

Let me start by saying, that my kid is not the most athletic kid out there...not even close! He started playing soccer a couple of years ago and got lucky to get on a really good team! They kept him around, cuz, well, his dad was the coach! He'd make an occassional goal, but was never one to get in there and "fight for the ball." Not that we cared much, I just wanted him to try his best. I put him in sports for several reasons: 1.) Exercise!!! 2.) To learn how to follow the rules of a game. 3.) To give him the experience of being a part of a team and to learn how what he does affects the team as a whole. Here is a picture of him in his first season of soccer:

After soccer, we moved onto basketball. He played on a junior league (3-on-3). They didn't keep score, they didn't play defense (except inside the box), and the referee was very lenient about things such as dribbling, out of bounds, etc. It is designed as a way to start learning the game.


I noticed right away a big difference in his confidence level. He was able to control the ball, dribble, play defense and even stealing the ball. He would make basket after basket during practice, but the baskets eluded him during the game. Here's a picture of him playing defense:




Then, we moved onto T-ball. Long story, short...it was not the best situation, but we survived. He was able to hit the ball most of the time and mosey to the bases, scored a run here and there, but I didn't really think it was something he was enjoying. This year, we got him on a team that we hope will be a better situation...less stress for him and he has friends on his team...but I digress...here is a picture of him from T-ball...he is leaving 3rd base, headed home (and he made it!):So, I'm telling you all of this because out of the three sports he's played, basketball is definitely where his talent and his confidence seem to lie. He is playing basketball again this year on the junior league and he is doing awesome! He has scored at least one goal in every game, he dribbles well, plays good defense, etc. He needed some "encouragement" on rebounding, so I offered him a quarter for every rebound...since then, he has been more agressive. And Saturday, he did awesome!!! He made 6 baskets and 3 rebounds! I'm so proud and I'm so glad that he has found something that he enjoys and he thinks that he is good at! It is so fun to watch him play with confidence!!! Here are some pictures of him playing basketball this year. The pictures aren't of great quality...hoping to take some more soon!

Playing Defense

Dribbling

Shooting

Stealing the ball

Shooting...love his form!

Okay, just had to get all that off my chest! Back to the recipes!

Kim