It's you. Totally knew it!

I remember the day Ben was born. I remember staring down at him and thinking "Oh hi you! Of course it's you." Like we were old friends. Like we'd always known each other. Like we had always been connected. Like we shared a secret. And, we did.

He captivated me. He was perfect. And he was only mine for 48 hours. And then, he was theirs. Letting him go began well before his birth. Still there are not words for the kind of grief that held me for many days following his adoption. And then, one day, months later, it lifted and now what I remember most is not the pain, but instead I remember that I knew him and that he knew me and we had a secret. We had an agreement.

I work with a sweet girl who has been chosen with her husband to adopt a baby boy when he arrives in December. She met the birth mother recently and she had that "Oh hi you! Of course it's you" moment. What could be more comforting to a young woman not yet ready to be a mother and a woman who has tried for many years in vain to have a child? Like a friendship had been renewed and an agreement remembered.

I struggle with God daily. I struggle with much of the organization in the church I was raised in. But, oddly, I never struggle to find or recognize what I know can only be the hand of something much greater in my life.

I have girlfriends that I have looked at and said "Oh hi you! Of course it's you." Like how the hell did this reunion take so long? These women... I love them. I love them with that deep choked up grateful kind of love.

I have a brother who I know I've been connected to for time that spans far beyond this life. And I have these children who are so totally mine. As they grow I have those "Oh hi you!" moments often.

I wonder if they'll have that with Ben. I know they have it with some cousins and a couple of my friends who have firmly planted themselves in to our inner circle, and they have an unbreakable bond with their uncle. Odds are pretty good.

I'm kind of a girl about this mushy stuff. But, I'm not a Candyass. Wussy girl, yes. Candyass, no. 

Holy smokes... I'm a mom.

I didn't always know I wanted to be a mom. I never saw it in my future. I didn't even have vague ideas about getting married, what a wedding might be like, or anything after that. I knew I'd have a career. I knew I'd travel. I knew I'd love deeply and have amazing friendships. I didn't think about getting married until I was faced with the question. And, the thought of children seemed so foreign. I had never made any plans. Which may be why some plans just happened for me... (yes, with my participation)

I got pregnant in college. Yes, unmarried. GASP! Yes, at that LDS owned school in Provo, UT. DOUBLE GASP! Yes... I was totally naughty. I own it. I embrace it. I never thought about the possibility of keeping the baby. And, his birth father didn't stick around to really find out what I chose. He chose to leave. I chose adoption. It was easy... until the moment I had to do it. But, everything about that year was actually very easy. I was 20. I never regretted getting pregnant. I wasn't embarrassed. It just seemed to be part of my path. (Oh, and BTW, didn't get booted from said school but that's a story for another day. Put simply, I wasn't a Candyass in college.)

Benjamin was born in December 1995. In 18 months the records open. I realized that fact not too long ago and was overwhelmed with this still foreign, maternal kind of pride and excitement and relief. I get to meet him again. That whole revelation sparked something new in me. It made me question what kind of a mother I am, what kind of a mother I want to be, and what kind of a mother my kids want me to be. And, I made some changes.

I made a list of things I would begin to do immediately and continue to do every day. And, I made a list of things I want to do with them and for them.

NOW
- Hug them tight always.
- Play with them.
- Tell them how beautiful they are every day, as often as I can.
- Ignore the the unimportant, like crazy wardrobe choices.
- Read with them every night before bed.
- Save the artwork... all of it.
- Nurture their talents and help them grow.
- Show them how to be a good friend... a best friend.
- Tell them stories about my childhood, growing up, my family, friends, proms, everything! (this one actually caused some problems... see below)
- Be a cheerleader. (tempted to get a uniform)
- Talk to them. Tell them what they ask to know. Be honest.
- LISTEN.

AS THEY GROW UP
- Take them everywhere! Give them the travel bug and hope it stays for life.
- Give them a place in the world that feels like their own. (Mine is Boothbay Harbor, Maine. I spent every summer there as a child and am forever in love with it's charm and generosity and simplicity.)
- Let them choose their path, their school, their career.
- Never miss the big things, and show up often for the small.
- Make sure that they build strong connections with each other.
- Celebrate everything!

We built a fort yesterday. It's hilarious and now full of treasured toys, a stack of library books (i love the library), coloring books, crayons, pillows, and snugly blankets. The giant easel Sam got for his birthday is perched at one corner and has "beware of the dog" written on the side facing out. You have to know the secret handshake to get in. I've been refused half a dozen times now.

When I did get in the fort, they all wanted to gab. So we did nothing for an hour but talk to each other. Abby, my oldest, was curious about when I was her age and then when I was in middle school and then asked about high school and specifically my first dance and what I wore and who my date was and I couldn't remember. I can't remember huge spans of time in my life. People say that becoming a mom does that to you, but I can't believe it can be to this degree. I have massive gaps that I feel like I just put away somewhere.
I want all of the memories back. The fun ones, the hard ones, the ones that were so bad that they made me suppress huge parts of my life. I don't necessarily need them all for me. But, I need them for THEM. And, so that when I meet Benjamin again I'll be able to tell him about me... the good, the bad, the ugly. But, not the Candyass. Not today anyway. I mean, I just put the biggest secret (that I remember) out there... and I'm glad I did.

I'm grateful for these new times with my children. I realize that I'm not always fun and I'm not always generous with my time, my words, or my hugs. But, trying to be has changed a lot between the four of us.