Happy Birthday to Me!

What better gift could I have then these 5 cuties?

41 is going to be a great year.

Ethan

When I first heard about Ethan, he was a little flicker of hope in my grieving heart.  We had lost our first set of twins through a very drawn out, painful ectopic pregnancy.  Those two babies, although with me very briefly, were a culmination of years of infertility treatments and a rather tattered, but somehow intact, vision of our future family.  After our round of invitro, we found out I was pregnant and our entire family was ecstatic.  

Our lives were moving on in so many ways.  Robert graduated from college and got a new job with IBM in Colorado.  Most of our family came for a reunion and to help celebrate his graduation (Robert is a popular guy with my family, but I have a feeling that our living in Hawaii made us just a bit more enticing.)   After the family headed back home, Mom stayed with me while Robert flew on to start his job.  

It was in that little, tiny apartment that I first knew that something was wrong.  A dull pain grew into an excutiating one in a matter of hours.  Before it was too bad, my Mom had left to take some friends to the airport.  By the time she returned, we immediately got back into the car to rush to the hospital in Honolulu (1 hour away.)   Within five minutes of arriving at the hospital, my fallopian tube burst.  The second twin had implanted in my uterus and although the trauma had slowed his heart rate, he still had one.  We didn't lose that twin for another couple of weeks.  At least by then I was able to recover enough to have flown to Colorado to be with Robert.   

We pulled back from any attempt to add to our family during those next quiet months.  Being in a new city, away from concerned, worried friends and family actually gave us space to heal in our own way.  After a few months of just getting on with life, we got a call from Sally Lee, our social worker,  telling us that a young girl had chosen us to be parents for her baby.  I didn't want to hope again.  I was exhausted with grief.  I decided to stay aloof enough to keep my heart safe.  So, when we heard about the baby, I tried to imagine it was information for someone else.  Good news, for sure.  Just someone else's good news.  

I guess the very first time I met Ethan, was when I met with his birth mother Ronee.  Here she was, a very pregnant, very beautiful, 16 year old, supported by her parents, her sister and grandparents.  It was, by far, the hardest interview I've ever been in.  Sitting in front of someone to get a job is nowhere as intimidating as sitting in front of a teenager who has the power to gift you with the one thing you've wanted your entire life.  Or not.  I mean, if that teenager doesn't think you are cool enough, or smart enough or kind enough (who knows exactly what is going through their minds?)  that's it.  Game over.  So, I did the only thing that came naturally.  I talked too much and probably a little to loudly.  I joked around.  I probably had my crazy smile on.  We'll never know, because I was so nervous that I blocked it all out of my memory.  The nerves remained for the next few weeks before we heard back that we were still her first choice.  

When Ronee gave birth, we started driving back to Utah.  I bought nothing except for the mandatory car seat.  No clothes.  No crib.  Nothing.  If I went shopping, that would mean that it could be real and I wasn't ready for that.  That next morning, on our way to the office where we were to meet, we got the call that Ronee and her family had left the hospital without telling anyone and no one could get a hold of them.  Well.  That's that, I thought.  I started thinking of ways we could sell the car seat.  Robert kept driving.   An hour later we got the call that the family had only be out getting pictures taken and they were waiting for us at the office.  I put the thoughts of selling the car seat temporarily on hold.  I knew that nothing was final until the papers were signed and the baby was in our arms.  

When we got there, I don't know what happened, but the social worker did it wrong.  She wasn't suppose to show us the baby until papers were signed.  Instead, she brought us in to join Ronee and her family.  Ronee looked exhausted and emotional but determined.  She held onto this little pink bundle I couldn't really get a good look at.  And then, the worker let us hold Ethan in a room by ourselves while Ronee went in and signed papers.  For an hour.  

The very moment I looked down at that beautiful face, I knew.  I knew he was mine.  I knew I loved him.  I knew that I would never be able to let go of him.  All the emotions I had so carefully kept at bay swept over me.  I felt like I was caught in the undertow of a wave.  I couldn't get up to breathe.  I didn't know which way to swim.  I was reeling from the impact of the wave itself.  All I knew was that in the torrent of my emotions, there was a very real possibility that Ronee wouldn't be able to sign the papers and I would have to hand him back.

Finally, Ronee, red-eyed and vulnerable, came in to say her goodbyes.  The entire time we were with her, she referred to Ethan as 'your baby.'  She knew what she wanted and needed to do, but it was heart wrenching watching it happen, first hand.  I'll never forget how brave and selfless she was in that moment.

Then it was over.  Everyone left and Robert and I stared at each other and this tiny little babe, dropped into our laps, straight out of heaven.   A perfectly round, fair complexion with the tiniest amount of rusty fuzz on his head.  My emotions ran more complex and profound than I have ever, up to that point in my life, experienced.  I was so overwhelmed that I didn't call anyone (much to the chagrin of my family who were waiting anxiously at my cousin's house.)  I just stared at this beautiful child that suddenly I could call mine.

Ethan 1 day old and about 3 hours mine.

Throughout the years I have kept in contact with Ronee.  We fell into a pattern of sending pictures and letters twice a year and then roughly once a years.  This last year she had moved around and I hadn't been able to get ahold of her for roughly half a year.  I had sent out an email, a text and finally found her on facebook and sent out a message.  When she responded she let us know that she had been suffering from liver failure and had been fighting for her life for the past year.  Her mother had passed from cancer a few years before that, I knew, and so she had moved back to live with her Dad.  This allowed him to take care of her boys while she recovered.  She's now on the liver transplant list and she asked if we could bring Ethan to meet her and her family.  

This wasn't the first time that she had asked to see Ethan.  We had one visit with her when Ethan was about two which did not go well for her.  Her emotions were too raw for the meeting and she cut it short.  The second time she asked, Ethan was only 8 and that time we didn't feel like Ethan was emotionally ready for that kind of visit.  This time I had a real calm feeling assuring me that it was going to be a good time for them to meet.  Before, I had always imagined them meeting when Ethan was older, maybe around 16.  The more I thought about it, however, I realized that it would be better for him to meet her before all the teenage angst kicked in.  Right now, he loves and respects us.  We still know most of the answers.  We have a close relationship where he feels free enough to express his emotions to us (which he does with a great deal of passion.)  He tells us about his crushes and his friendships.  Maybe not everything, but a lot.  This was the time for him to meet someone who already has such a complicated history with him.  He trusts us and doesn't have any magical thinking about a different, 'better' mom.  

So we drove to Saint George, Utah to a little park in the suburbs.  Ethan was very excited to meet this birth mother that he'd always heard about.  He was also a little nervous because he didn't know how he was suppose to act.  We let him know that anytime he needed a breather, he could take one.

Robert and I both felt very calm and relaxed.  I guess that seems strange, but it felt like we were going to an extended family reunion.  One where you really don't really know everyone attending, but you know you are connected somehow.

Ronee came with her two sons Tristan and Jaxon, her father Jon Draayer (Papa Hook), her niece Sierra Gates, her aunt and uncle Karen & Art Baliff, and her Grandma and Grandpa.  Jon manned the grill and her Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt and Uncle sat and chatted. 

Ethan walked right up to Ronee and gave her a hug.  He then went around and met everyone and gave them all a nice hug.  After that, the kids went straight over to the water park and played for about an hour.  Ethan played well with the boys and Sierra, (especially Sierra :)  He also found it really easy to talk to her father, Jon.  Ronee tried to talk to Ethan several times and he was always polite and answered questions, but I know they both felt awkward about the conversation.  Ethan, I think, could sense her intense mix of emotions and Ronee later noted that she didn't think that he felt really comfortable talking with her.  

I don't pretend to know all the emotions that Ethan felt that day.  When I asked him later, all I got was, "Yeah.  That was pretty cool."  So.  Good.  He usually relates better to men, in general, and liked hearing Ronee's father's stories about being raised on a ranch and about raising horses.  Jon was very respectful and asked if the stories he was telling was okay with us.  We talked candidly with all the older family members and they all commented about how they felt Ethan was in the right place with the right family.

I was able to share some of Ethan's wonderful inherited personality traits as well.  His kind, open heart.  His concern for others.  His musical talents.  His love of sports.  Jon became quite emotional a few times.  He never cried, but there were often tears in his eyes.  I think it did their whole family good to see Ethan, a healthy, happy, loved child.  Here are some of the pictures from the day.

Ethan with Tristan and Jaxon

Ronee and the boys

Ronee and Ethan

Ronee, Ethan and Aunt Karen and Uncle Art

Sierra, Ronee, Ethan and Jon

Ethan and Jon

Ethan with Ronee's Grandparents.

Our big group picture.

The first week of September came around and I got a call from my Mom telling me that peaches and pears were in and ready to be canned.  The last time I canned pears by myself, I managed to ruin them by not buying brand new lids.  (they didn't seal properly and I ended up with a whole lot of fermented pears.  Yuck!)  Mom promised to walk me through it when the time came.  So when she called, We packed up the kids and drove up to Payson.  

Luckily our visit fell on a three day weekend, so instead of canning on Saturday, we decided that we really needed to hike to the top of Mount Timpanogos.  Now, I have never hiked this mountain, and it is Mom's favorite hike.  It isn't a nice, easy day hike.  It is a full 12 hour, 15 mile round trip, steep, hard hike.  We went prepared with food/snacks and water.  We went early to avoid some of the heat.  We dressed in layers.  Nothing, however, could prepare for just how tough of a hike it was.  

Sunrise.

The hike itself is a beast, but we didn't think that would be enough for us, so we brought along a couple of our own little monsters.  Ethan and Austin.  :)  Ethan started feeling sick almost immediately.  Robert patiently urged him on for the first hour.  After he threw up the first time, I told Rob he could just go home with him and come back to pick us up.   Instead, Robert had Ethan rest when he needed it, but slowly encouraged him on with games and distractions until they eventually caught up with us.  By then, Ethan was feeling quite a bit better and was enjoying the hike.  

Here is our whole group.  Robert, my cousin Don James, Jim, Mom, Austin, Ethan, Yve and Laina.  I'm there too.  :)

Unfortunately, as soon as Ethan felt better, Austin was on the verge of giving up.  He was having a hard hike and had fallen a couple of times.  The mountain was 'against him.'  His body was 'bretraying' him.  Shoot, he even told us that his hair was betraying him.  By that time I was getting pretty fed up myself  (my patience was betraying me.)  Robert switched gears and started working on moving Austin up the mountain.  Not an easy task.  Austin need a lot of encouragement, and I had used up most of my good will towards him during the first portion of the hike.  Robert saved the day and talked him through it all.

On and on we trudged along.  Besides Austin, the rest of the group was in good spirits and it was so beautiful on that mountain.  The girls had quite the collection of flowers in their hair before we even got through the first half of the hike.  

Near the top of the tree line, we decided to take a snack break.  It had been really warm up until then, but when we got out of the trees, the wind picked up and we were getting some pretty cold drizzle coming down.

Jimmy stealing kisses.

Finally we made it up to the Emerald Lake.  (about 6 miles up)  We had lunch there to get off our feet.   This is as far as the boys were willing to go and we decided split up.  Robert's knees started to give him a little trouble at that point so he offered to take them down.  The rest of us started back up.

The next part of the hike was right along this long, crumbly, little-bit-scary ledge.  This was followed by the most insane ankle-breaking rock field.  Mom needed to take it slower and so we split up on the rocks.  Don was so wonderful and stayed with Mom, making sure she didn't slip or lose her balance.   

That rock field was my least favorite part and it seemed to go on forever.  Once we got up to the saddle (about 1 mile from the top) we looked down and saw them trudging through those awful rocks. 

We had to practically crawl up the last part of the mountain up to 'the saddle'.  Once we got there, the wind was absolutely freezing and blowing so hard that Jimmy refused to stand up.  From there it was about a mile hike up the side of the mountain.  Literally, the side of the mountain.  The girls were too frightened to hike up that last trail and did I mention the wind and freezing rain?  The rain was starting to make the stones slick and we didn't know if it was going to get worse.  The view was fantastic from where we were huddling, and so we decided that we had gone as far was we were going to.  

Our last triumph picture.  Laina is amazing!

Here we are riding our bums down this hill.  Way at the bottom you can see Mom and Don waiting for us to get there.

We made it.  :)

And back along the ridge.  

Yve got to be carried 20 whole steps.  It took her 5 to fall asleep.

Jim, Yve and Alaina taking the road less travelled by.

Gorgeous!

It was evening when we stumbled back to the cars.  We were exhausted.  My knees killed (getting older, I guess.)  and we were more than ready for it to be over.  What we didn't know was that a couple miles after Robert and the boys left us to go back down, both of his knees went completely out on him.  He had to do the whole rest of the hike with shooting pain and taking as many rests as he could.  He got back to the car only a little bit before we did.  Poor Robert.  It wasn't his favorite hike, but he still had a good attitude about it.  For me, it was one that I'm glad I did.  I have a little tinge of regret not making the final push, but probably not enough of one to make the hike back up any time soon.  I just can't believe that my Mom was still making it up there.  74 going on 25.  I can only hope that she sent some of that DNA my way.