On the Outside Looking In

I believe all birth mothers feel like they are on the outside of their child's lives at one point or another. As my son has grown older I have come to accept this constant feeling that envelopes me. I'm not exactly sure how we go through different phases on our journey or what makes us move into these phases, but I have noticed very clearly a change in these kind of feelings within the past year. 

When my son was a baby our connection was undeniable. It is still very much a special connection, but he had lost someof the innocence that comes with being a baby. He didn't have to deal with titles or what other people (including his adoptive parents) felt about our relationship. He wasn't confused by anything, nor did he worry about anything other than what he felt. It was clear he felt a comfort in my arms that he did not feel so fully anywhere else. He spent countless hours sleeping in my arms, or just looking into my eyes. It was as if nothing else mattered and he felt safe, and at home close to me. While I still believe this is true, things have become a little more complicated with age. 

Now my son considers the feelings of others. He wonders about the different names people call me, my daughters, my parents, and other family. He worries about how his feelings will change things. While he is still too young to fully communicate all of this, as his birth mother I have no doubt these things are going on. I see it in his eyes. I can feel it in his heart. He wants to be everything I know he feels for me, but he is hesitant at times because of these things. I have had to reflect a great deal on this to understand what is going on, but for me, this explains why at times I feel like I am on the outside looking in. 

There are other obvious reasons, given that I do not live in the city where we visit him. It is not my home that we spend our time in. I am not the parent who makes daily decisions for him, and I do not take part in each and every aspect of his life. However, I feel that as the years go by the fact that this is the way adoption is, should not change the fact that I gave everything so that he could have this life. I gave my heart. It is painful to feel as if I am simply an onlooker into the world of a family I have nothing to do with, when the reality is that without my love, they would not be a family. 

As holidays and milestones approach, I think of the pictures I receive each year and the stories I hear. I await these again this year and the bittersweet feeling that follows. I am beyond blessed to have these stories and see these pictures, but they are real reminders that I am on the outside looking in. I will not experience these things with him, and my daughters will miss another special event with their big brother. What hurts even more is knowing that if we were to spend a special holiday together, we would still be there on the outside looking in. 

We have so much love in our relationship and my son is an amazing gift. Him and I share a special bond. I see it also with my daughters. The pain I feel is never by anything he has done, but rather the circumstances that surround our relationship, most of which is entirely outside of my control. So I will carry on! I enjoy all the moments we share and choose to not let the painful ones hurt me too much. While there is often sadness within my joy, I would not trade it for a world without the love of my little boy. 

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Gifts

My son was born November 23rd, so my thought a couple weeks after, were "What in the world do I get both him and the most perfect parents that are loving and taking such amazing care of my son?"

No gift could show how grateful I was.

The truth is, I think adoptive parents struggle with this "perfect gift" scenario as well.  I think the "perfect gift" is the gift of having a relationship with them and showing our love for the child we share.  When it comes to material items, I have always gone for the meaningful gifts instead of what the latest popular toy or the "bath and body works" gifts for the adoptive mom.

The first year, I bought Christmas gifts for both Noah and his parents along with birthday gifts for him as well.  I plan on getting his mom flowers or something small to send her when she graduates with her Doctorates degree in Education this summer.  It really is just about showing your love, not how much money you have.

If you cannot afford to buy toys or other items, send a childhood book you had growing up or a card with a meaningful message in it.  Simple and sweet is the way I go about sending gifts. 

In the end, it is all about the love you give!

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Thinking of You!

We want to take just a minute to wish you and yours a happy, safe, and peaceful Christmas season!  

As birthmoms, we are all aware of how tough this time of year can be so please remember to be kind to yourselves and realize it's okay to reach out for support! If you need to talk, don't hesitate to reach out to us at 1-855-4mybbud.

You are in our thoughts and prayers, today and always. 

Christmas Time Is Here

Hello!  It's been a while since I've posted and I hope all of you are doing well.  Christmas is upon us once again, and I'm sure many of you are like me and face the holiday season with a whole mix of feelings.

There is always the joy of seeing family and celebrating the holiday.  That usually involves good people, good food, good conversation, and an exchange of (hopefully) thoughtful presents.  I wish that I could be celebrating the holiday with my son as well as the rest of my family.  But I am also secure in the knowledge that he is having a good time with his family.  And that thought does make me happy.

Then there is the love that we hopefully all have when we come together during the holidays.  Of course, with family coming together there are always the questions: how is your life going?  What are your plans?  While my extended family is often not involved in our Christmas celebrations (due to living in two different states) we do see a number of friends.  Often those friends know about my son, and they will ask, I smile and tell them that he's doing well.  I then pull out my cell phone to show them the most recent picture I have of him.  I tell them that he's doing well.  He's in school, although it's been a challenge for him.  And his parents are managing it all quite well.  Better than I would have anyway.

And also there is the peace that comes with this time of year.  Every Christmas I try to come to a peace within myself regarding what I've done, where I've been, where I'm going, and what I must do.  It doesn't always work, but most times it does.  This year, I plan to make a pilgrimage out to the monastery near where my parents live.  It's always a very quiet and meditative place to go for me.  And I have always liked the fact that the chapel is always open with a sign inviting everyone to come in for a quiet moment.  Everyone is welcome, no matter where you have been or what your story is.

For me this season is not without sadness.  I miss my son.  I miss many people.  And I often have Christmas wishes that I know will never come true.  But it doesn't really matter that they won't.  I love my son.  I love those who have passed.  And somehow or another I feel they are always with me at Christmas and throughout the year.

I hope this finds all of you well.  I hope you enjoy the holiday season how ever you celebrate it.  I hope that you are surrounded by people who love and care about you this year, no matter who they are.  And I will be posting again soon.

Father's Day

Father's Day is this Sunday.  While Mother's Day is difficult and a tough day to get through us, for my best friend and the father of my child, Father's Day is just as difficult.  Often we talk about our experience as birthmothers and what that means and does to us.  This one time, I want to talk about my son's birthfather, A.

A and I were dating when I got pregnant.  At first, we were terrified.  We had no idea what we were going to do and neither of us were in a good position to raise a child.  We talked, and we talked, and we said just about everything you should say and shouldn't say in order to do this and stay in a relationship.  But we kept talking.

It all came to a head when we got back to his mother's house after going to my friend's wedding.  He asked me again what we were going to do as he put a hand to my swollen belly.  I finally said to him,

"I'm 75% certain that adoption is the right idea.  It's just..."  The thing about A and I, we can finished each other's sentences.  So he replied,

"It's just the 25% gets loud?"

"It gets so loud," I said tearing up.  This was our decision.  The majority ruled.  Our son was going to be placed for adoption.  Then we thought up a name because we do everything backwards.

I was at the hospital with just my mother the first night.  The next morning A arrived with his mother. He stayed with me through the next two days of labor. He held my hand in the OR when they performed a c-section on me.  Once we both heard J crying, I saw A's eyes tear up and even from behind the mask I knew he was smiling.  I have pictures of him in the hospital holding J.  They are some of the best pictures that I have of him.  He stayed two more days.  And he held my hand as I signed the surrender papers; the same papers he had signed just a few days prior.

A has seen our son two more times: once when J was about three months old and again when J was almost a year old.  He hasn't seen him since then.  J is about to be five.  But I want to make this clear: this isn't due to a lack of care on his part.  More a matter of caring too much.  Seeing J is a torture to him.  Placing our son for adoption was the hardest thing both of us have had to do thus far, and he has dealt with it much more slowly than I have.  He is getting better.  During the last few visits, I've sent pictures to his phone instead of just his email at his request.  Every time he is stunned at how big J is and how great he looks.  One day I hope he can have a visit with our son again.  And J's adoptive parents have been amazingly understanding about this.  I've explained the situation and their words were simply, when he's ready, just let us know and we'll set up a visit.

I know not everyone has this experience.  And I think it's unfortunate that so many men turn away from their children and just don't want to know.  But those men who do acknowledge their children and love them even from afar, suffer as much as we do.  One thing I've had to do again and again since this has happened, is defend A.  I don't like that I have to do it, but I do it because it should be done, because he does deserve to be defended, because he is still my best friend who went with me through hell, and because when all else fails he's the only one in the world who knows what it's like to miss our son, J.

This Sunday, I'll tell him Happy Father's Day, just as he wished me Happy Mother's Day last month.  And I'll thank my lucky stars once again that I have him in my life.

Times We Couldn't Share

Every time another special celebration comes and goes, my heart feels a little empty, despite the joys shared with friends and family. I always stop and think about what it would be like for my son to be apart of these celebrations. As I write today I am particularly focused on this idea, because my family is on their yearly vacation to the lake house. Each member of my immediate family, along with their spouses and children gather in one home and share a week of fun on the lake in my dad's boat. It has always been one of the highlights of my year, and has been a large part of my life since I can remember. It is hard not having Aidan here with the rest of us. It is hard knowing what we all are missing.

For me I miss seeing Aidan with all the other kids running and playing. I see my two girls play together and can't help but feel like something is missing as I long to see him there as well. I miss seeing him play with all of his cousins, and enjoying the special bond they all share. It is hard to accept that he will not experience all of these things as he grows. It goes even deeper at times as I see the way of life that he is not experiencing. So much of what I learned about myself was learned on these trips. It provides a chance to escape the realities of life and experience life as a family unit without the distractions. It taught me strength and determination as I learned to ski and do other water sports as a young child. I learned how to really enjoy the company of others, and to deal with disappointments as they come. I know all of these things can be learned in other ways, but for my family these special moments are often shared alongside the water. It is hard knowing this is not a central part of my son's childhood.

I must believe that he will find these things in other places, and maybe someday I will have the opportunity to share these special moments with him. Each time I think of the moments we are not able to share I am forced to accept the reality, and to be honest, it is extremely difficult. Each birthday party we do not share, each holiday that passes, every family gathering: all of these are bittersweet. I want so deeply to fully enjoy all of these things with the ones who are present. It becomes especially hard when I see my girls, and I want to be fully present for them in those moments, and I do the best I can. I choose to love life as it is, and work through the sadness as it comes. No matter what I do those feelings are always there, very real, very strong. I honor him and my girls through those moments and live life to the fullest. Someday he will understand the pain I CHOOSE to feel was always for him. These times we couldn't share simply remind me of the real love I have for this little boy and the choice I made for his life. For all of us birth moms - we must remember how heroic our choice was!! How many people willingly take on the most difficult pain imaginable for the love of another? We know sacrificial love, and our children will be blessed by our love.

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Acceptance

I did really well right after my daughter was born. I went back to school about two months after I had her and lost 50 pounds in five months through diet and exercise. I felt great and loved my new found freedom and getting my life back. Then one day it all hit me. I was just plain sad. I had never let myself truly grieve for what had taken place. I saw a therapist at my school and slowly I got better again. Through everything though I have never regretted my decision to place, and for that I am thankful. I grieved my lost motherhood. I grieved not being able to be her mom, but I knew that she was where she was meant to be. I wanted her to be happy more than I wanted myself to be happy, because honestly that's all that really matters.

For everyone out there who is struggling just know that it is okay to ask for help. No matter if its been a month, a year, three years or 34 years after placement, it is okay to let yourself grieve. Do not run from these feelings, they will catch up to you and hit you harder. I know that there are many of us who do regret placing our children, and for you I hope you find peace. You made the best decision you could with the knowledge you had. You put your child first in that moment, and that is the most selfless thing you could have ever done.

This last weekend was mothers day weekend and I know for many of us that is the worst weekend of the year. I woke up and felt an overwhelming sadness, thinking about how my motherhood was gone. But then I realized something. It isn't. I love my daughter and I put her above myself, which is what any mother does. I think about her everyday and miss her when she is not around, just like any mother out there. You are all mothers no matter what a mean spirited person says to you. You deserve every ounce of praise that another mother receives. Love yourself. I hope all of you had a good weekend and received that praise. And if you didn't here it is. Thank you for being so amazing. Thank you for being the best MOTHER you could be for your child. Thank you for bringing an amazing new life into this world.You are loved and honored.

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Happy Mother's Day!

The ladies here at BirthMom Buds want to wish you all a very Happy Mother's Day.  We know how triggering today can be so please be kind to yourselves!  Do something just for YOU today! Talk to a friend, call one of your birthmom friends, go out and treat yourself to a dinner, a spa day, anything that will make you smile even for a few minutes.  Remember.... you are not alone!

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Just Another Mother's Day

Mother's Day is upon us again.  I don't really like Mother's Day.

I don't like it because of the constant advertisements that are all over the internet, the radio, and the newspapers.  We're really lucky I don't have cable right now because I might have broken my own TV by now.  I know it's got to be all over the place right now.  I don't really like it because I don't want to be reminded that it's coming soon.  I know that it is.  And I will deal with it in my own way when it gets here.  But I don't need nor want to be reminded of it constantly in the days leading up to it.  All it really reminds me of is that my son is not going to be with me on Mother's Day.  I won't get a card from him.  I won't get flowers from him.  He's going to be spending the day with his mom.  And that's something I'm not a part of.  Of all the holidays of the year, Mother's Day, for me, is the worst.  I've tried to treat it like just another day, but that's not really possible in my case.

I get texts from my ex and his mother on Mother's Day.  They don't mean any malice in this.  I know. they do it because they still love me.  And I guess you could say I get my revenge because I tell my ex Happy Father's Day when that day rolls around.  Either I call my mom or she calls me so we can say it to each other.  I do like telling my mother Happy Mother's Day.  The first time she told me Happy Mother's Day, I was still big and pregnant.  My parents gave me a Mother's Day card in which they wrote, "Whatever you decide, we will always love you."  I knew they meant well.  And at the time I received it well.  But at the time I was still trying to decide what to do.  So it was difficult.

Sunday I will be going to church.  I'm going to church because the church I attend on occasion has a very low-key way of handling Mother's Day.  There is a blessing over every woman and girl in the church.  Then every woman and girl gets a carnation and the chance to go to the fellowship hall and have cake.  This will be the third time I've done so.  I like it this way.  No judgements about who I am or what I did, just that I am a mother as is every other woman.  I get a flower.  I get cake.  There are several people in the congregation who know about my son.  Even the pastor knows.  I'll show them the most recent pictures of him and they will wonder at how big he's gotten and how much he looks like me.  They'll be kind and tell me to have another piece of cake.  They know I miss him.  But in their eyes, I'm a mother as well.  And on Mother's Day, that's one thing I need.

I hope you all have a good Mother's Day and that you spend it how it suits you best.  Anyone else have any rituals or special things you do on Mother's Day?  Do let me know!

BMB Reform Blog: Birthmother's Day or Mother's Day

When I first ventured into the Facebook support groups a few years back, I heard of something I had never heard of in all my years as a natural mom:  Birthmother's Day.  I've heard different origin stories of how this day came to be, and to be honest I have no idea which one is accurate.  But I have noticed that this day often brings up a debate.

For those of you who don't know, Birthmother's Day is a day some of us mark the Saturday before Mother's Day.  So this year it would be May 9th.  The debate usually centers around one very valid
question:  Does Birthmother's Day segregate us as not being "real" mothers?

I have a very personal view of Birthmother's vs. Mother's Day.  With my daughters birthday being so close to it, for me, regardless of any other issues I have it's all just too much.  Not to mention my story isn't one of happiness and acceptance.  So I always say I don't need a day to recognize or celebrate the trauma I have been through.  Also, I tend to agree with the fact that I feel like it segregates me.  I would much rather be recognized on Mother's Day for the mother that I am.   I don't judge anyone who does choose to celebrate this day, but for me and my beliefs, it just doesn't fit.

How do you feel about Birthmother's Day in relation to Mother's Day?

If you or anyone you know would like to be interviewed for this section, or if you have an important reform topic you would like discussed, please feel free to email me!  I look forward to hearing from you!

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Holidays

For most of us the holidays can be the hardest days of the year.  What is supposed to be a time of joy is a time of sadness and mourning the little face we wish we could see on this day.  Usually I do well with the holidays, my adoption experience has been a pretty good one.  I have remained in good contact with the adoptive parents and we are planning our visit for this summer.

This Easter however was a hard one.  I made a big dinner for my roommates and a friend because none of us could go back home.  I couldn't help but imagine the life I would have had.  The "what ifs" are the hardest parts for me.  It's hard not to imagine what could have, or would have, been.  Her birth father and I are still together, which makes it even harder on some days.

I would be cooking Easter dinner and she would be running around in the living room in her little Easter dress.  She might be outside with her daddy searching for eggs in the bushes.  There would be laughter and joy.  But then I come down from that fantasy.  I think about everything else that would be surrounding that.  Would her daddy even be around?  Where would I have got the money for the dinner, for her little dress?  Would we be the midst of some kind of custody battle, something so many of my friends are familiar with.  Where would we even be living, with my mother in a tiny apartment?

Its hard to get past those what ifs.  And when you do its even harder to imagine the reality of them.  Its easy to think about how amazing life would be with your child, but its hard for me to imagine how hard things would be.

I know that for me adoption was for the best interest of my daughter.  That doesnt make this any less difficult.

How do you guys spend the holidays?  What is the hardest part for you?

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Families

Sorry for the silence past couple of weeks.  The holidays have been a little bit rough.

If you're reading this, congratulations, you survived the holidays and have made it (hopefully) safely into the new year.  I do believe that everyone deserves a round of applause for that.  After all with travel, weather, various kinds of insanity, there are a great many things that can, and sometimes do, go wrong.  The one thing that I have found is constant in life at those times is family.

When I say family, I don't always mean the people that you are related to by blood.  I have a few different families.  Most would call them social groups, and that's a valid name.  But some are close enough that I do call them family.  I spent my holidays with my parents and we had a very nice, calm, relaxed Christmas.  Exchanged a few presents, made some great food, and had good and hilarious conversation.  I learned of problems in our extended family and in particular one of us that I'm going to try to reach out to as much as I'd like to just let her go.  But she is family.

Before I left though, I was in attendance at a party with friends.  A few of these friends I have grown very close to over the past year.  Close enough that soon I will be giving one a ride to pick up her car and then having dinner with her.  This is the family that I've formed here in Athens.  They're the people that I hang out with, go to dinner with, have late-night philosophical conversations with, and the ones that I whisper my secrets too and let them whisper their secrets to me.  They're as close to me as the people I grew up with.  They're the family of friends that I have gained here in Athens.

I hope that I will get to visit my family of friends in Columbus this summer.  I spent nine years of my life there and the connections made there have refused to fade over time.  One friend, who owns a book shop, almost never leaves my thoughts.  And I know when I step into his shop we will probably pick up the conversation we were having the last time I was there.  Sometimes it feels like I have never left once I find the people I knew for years.  Recently, we've suffered a tragedy in our little close-knit family.   And like all families, we are reaching across the lines of communication and assured each other that we are all still here.  We are still family.

Later this month, my son, J, and his parents will be coming over to my parents' house for the "Christmas visit."  It's been pushed back a little because of illness and problems in their family.  But his mother assured me that they are looking forward to seeing us, and I do believe her.  They have just had a difficult year, and I know it.  My son lost two grandparents this year.  And I know one was a much tougher loss than the other.  I know one was expected and one wasn't.  But like all families, they have bonded together to see each other through.  His father and I have talked every month at the poetry readings.  We hang out together afterwards and I get to hear how my son is doing on a very intimate level.  And this is the family I have made with my son.  I'm very lucky in this, and I'm no idiot, I know this doesn't always happen.  But sometimes it does.  It's different from every other family I've had.  They're closer than friends.  Yet not as close as family.  But we share a life together.  We share one life, J's life.  We both watch him grow and am amazed by it every day.  We are learning together what to do and what he may be one day.  And this family I believe will always be a part of my life just as my blood family, my Columbus family, and my Athens family always will be.

Here's to you all and your families wherever they may be.  Hug them tight, let them know you're there, and I hope you all know that no matter what happens in your lives, you are loved by someone.

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Christmas Shopping

It's that time of year again.  Time to trim the trees, eat some good food, see your family, and exchange presents.  As the time to arrange my Christmas visit with my son approaches, I ask myself the awkward question, what does my son want for Christmas?  I say awkward because, well, shouldn't I know what my son wants for Christmas?  I have lucked out a bit with J.  Trucks and Legos.  He cannot get enough.  Granted, I think this is true of most boys.  I felt bad at one point that I'd gotten him one of something that he already had.  But his parents and other parents who were there assured me, "There can never be enough Legos, doesn't matter if they're the same thing."

This year, I'm going to try to find a Lego set, maybe even something musical for him since he seems to be interested in music.  He's four years old, so it will have to be something that is durable.  A drum might drive his parents crazy.  But I'll see what else I can find.

This year I also hope to give his parents Christmas presents.  Nothing really large or fancy.  Just something to show my appreciation not only for the immaculate care of my son and the fact that they continue to prove that I was right in choosing them as my son's parents, but also for their continued openness and willingness to include me and my parents in my son's life.  It's a gift that I cannot even begin to pay them back for.  I am grateful every single day for the care and love they lavish on J.  And I know this Christmas, while it has been a rough one for their family, will be a happy one.  They are family.  And family always comes together in the rough times and does their best to make the best of it.

I hope that all of you have a wonderful holiday season, whichever way you choose to celebrate it.  I hope for peace and harmony this December as the year comes to a close.  And I hope you all get to spend time with those you love and who love you.

Thankful For Being Lucky

It's Thanksgiving week.  I've been with family all week like many of you probably have.  This year my mother was still in a cast due to a broken arm she got at the end of September.  So I was enlisted to make Thanksgiving dinner.  Fear not, I've done this two times before due to her having a very bad knee and by now I'm much more confident and I am able to nearly recite the recipes and get my mother out of my cooking if need be.  Third time through, I did well yet again.  And now I have a post to write.

I'm no fool.  I know that I got extremely lucky with my adoption agency, the family I placed with, the willingness of everyone in my family and my boyfriend's family to step out of our way and make the right decision for our child, and that my child was born healthy and well.

I am thankful that at a time when I needed it most, my luck turned for the good in a serious way.  I am thankful that my son's parents continue to involve me in his life and keep me updated on his life.  I am thankful that my son is growing up tall and handsome.  I am thankful that he has a very creative mind and soul.  I am thankful that he has loving, wonderful, and capable parents who can raise him the way that I wish I could have.  I am thankful that they have become my friends and people that I can talk to not just about my son, but about many other subjects as well.  And I am thankful that I got so very very lucky when I needed it the most.

I wish you all the luck that I've found.  I hope you all have had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families.  Know that while I am thankful for all of these things and am grateful that my son will get the life he deserves, it is a fact that I have to live with every day and it is a fact that pains me every day.  But I always knew I would live with this better than raising my son in a home that would have been unstable at best and hostile and unbearable at worst.  May you all find peace with your decisions as I finally have.

Let Freedom Ring

Something about Independence Day is both humbling and healing.  It reminds me that our forefathers fought for the freedoms we enjoy.  They endured years of battles, sorrow, and loss in order to gain safety, security, and the pursuit of happiness.

How can we not think of our own struggles and sorrows we overcame to be able to place a child into the arms of another?    We endured a lot of heartbreak and were able to see the bigger and better perspective of what was in the best interest of the child, not myself.  We put our wants and needs aside for their safety, their security, and their pursuit of happiness. 

Trials such as these are life-altering, but always come with a cost.  The price we paid in pain, tears, and grief gives us an added appreciation for life and for love.  We are also blessed with more strength, confidence, and compassion. 

Birthmothers, on this Independence Day, honor your own strength and courage by remembering the trials you overcame and the better women that you are.  Let this small and simple joy resonate throughout your heart today and share this love with others....

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Easter

The thing that has hit me about Easter the past few years is really simple. Growing up in church, I've heard the Easter story my whole life although I never really understood where the big furry bunny comes into play. But even the eggs make sense to me signifying new life.

The Christian Bible claims that Jesus went to the Cross, was killed, buried and dead for three days. But then he rose from the grave conquering death once and for all. It's so overwhelming and even at my age, I still grapple with some of the logistics of Holy Week.

On Sunday my pastor preached on the traditional passage from Luke 11 that has Jesus entering the city on the back of a donkey and people waving palm branches. But he also taught that Jesus went into the temple and looked around before going home. According to my pastor, Jesus was looking around to see if the temple, his people, were ready for him to be revealed. And they were found lacking.

Now, at this point I want to stop and just say that if it were me, I would have thrown in the towel. I would have thought something like, "My temple is not ready and it never will be," and I would have just kept on walking.

But not Jesus. He knew his people weren't ready. He knew they never would be. And he knew that all those people who had just welcomed him into the city with palm branches and chants would murder him before the week was over. And he still chose to do it. He chose to be tortured. He chose to die.

I don't know if you know this Jesus Christ of the Bible. I hope you do. If you don't, I hope you will take time to think about your decision this week. He went to the cross for me. For you. So we don't have to manage on our own any more.

Happy Easter!

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A Fresh Start

Welcome to a new year. A fresh start. A blank page. Apart from football, parades and the aftermath of Christmas, now is an excellent time to start planning for your own fresh start. I'm not talking about the typical resolutions that fade well before February is even over. I'm talking about turning over a complete new leaf.

This is the time to let go of the past, to let go of what has come before and walk boldly into your future and your new life. The book of Isaiah puts it like this:

Forget about what’s happened;
    don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
    It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?
There it is! I’m making a road through the desert,
    rivers in the badlands.    Isaiah 43:19

Did you read that? I'm about to do something brand new? How exciting is that? I don't know about you friends, but I'm ready for new life. I'm ready for him to do something exciting and healing. I'm ready for him to bring rivers of life-giving water into the dark, dry places in my soul.

I promise you the God of the Bible is at work all around you. I promise that he wants to do a new thing in your life. Give your mind over to him so he can change it and make it new. Trust him with your heart to heal it and not to hurt it anymore. This is how you can move forward. This is how you can let go of the hurt and walk into healing.

Happy fresh start.

Happy New Years!

Everyone here at Birthmom Buds wants to wish you all a wonderful 2014 filled with growth, healing, love and success!  What are some of your resolutions this year?  What do you hope for your year to be?  

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Happy Holidays!

From all the staff here at BirthMom Buds, we want to wish you and yours a happy, safe Christmas season!  We are all aware of how tough this time can be, so please remember to be kind to yourselves and realize it's okay to reach out for support!

If you need to talk, don't hesitate to reach us at 1-855-4mybbud.

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Holiday Disappointments

Every year around the holidays, it's hard for my family and I. There's always that space on the mantle where Micah's stocking should be, that last minute holiday party that Micah should be attending, or the Christmas morning joy that we should be experiencing together. This year is especially tough. After going through months and months of medical tests and doctors visits and scary diagnosis', part of me just wants him here even more. I hate the fact that I can only see him during Christmas at an agency party. I hate the fact that I can't watch him open his presents on Christmas morning. I hate the fact that he's not here. I just miss him so much.

Do any of you feel this way around the holidays?

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