While being adopted may not seem like a big deal, too often lately it is.

The biggest challenge with being adopted is never having any history.  I have no medical history, which has impacted me greatly.  It has caused concern with each of my pregnancies, the recent ones in particular.  It is impossible to create a genetic history for my progeny when there is only half a history to work with.

And with that lack of medical history comes a lack of heritage.

Sometimes I feel it more than others.  Marrying my husband has been a blessing.  He has a strong history that I was quick to adopt and adapt to.  Along with having an Irish heritage that we both embrace and celebrate…in the vows we took for our wedding and the names we chose for our daughter, we also have Irish history around the house…shamrocks, a trinity wind chime and the like.  We celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, not with alcohol…which would also be very Irish, but with corned beef and cabbage.  He’s southern, so we have our southern traditions, too.  I suddenly spend my summers making sweet tea.  And I can now fry chicken.  Really.

But there are times when this is hollow.  Times like now when we look at Kenna and marvel over who she resembles.  She has his fingers, feet, and toes.  But there are features we can’t quite place.  Where did that eye shape come from?  And I have no one I look like.

Some people take family and their history for granted.  Some people never want to listen to the stories from their parents and grandparents about their past.  By not listening, they are missing out on a major piece of themselves.  Take my word for it, the word of someone who would love to have a medical past and maybe a few blood relatives and stories to pass down.  My adopted family gave me everything they could.  I always felt loved and wanted.  I always was cared for in every way possible.  All I know is that it never mattered to me so much growing up as it did when I was grown, having kids of my own.

This post is inspired by I AM FORBIDDEN by Anouk Markovits. Though not sisters by blood but through their Hasidic faith, Mila and Atara views the rules and structure of their culture differently. Mila seeks comfort in the Torah while Atara searches for answers in secular literature she is forbidden to read. Ultimately each must make an irrevocable decision that will change their lives forever. Join From Left to Write on May 8 as we discuss I AM FORBIDDEN. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Bryce is super special.  When he heard about Kenna, he took her on like a project.  He prays for her all the time.  He looks for updates constantly.  And when he found out that he could help babies like Kenna by participating in the March of Dimes Walk for Babies, he was all over it.

Now, Bryce has set a serious goal.  He wants to earn $500 for the babies.  Please help if you can, whether by donating or by sharing the video on Facebook, on Twitter, and any way that you can.

I want to see Bryce reach his goal.  And he holds a special place in our heart.  After you watch this video, he’ll hold a special place in yours, too.

At first I felt like I had failed my children.  I had never taken them mountain climbing.  This is mostly due to the fact that I don’t enjoy it.  I grew up in the Adirondacks.  I climbed lots of mountains.  I spent much time camping and canoeing.  I’ve been there and done that.  And I found that it’s one of those things that I enjoyed as a kid, as a teen, as a young adult, but would prefer to never ever ever do again.

Maybe my children were missing out.  Maybe I hadn’t accomplished anything with them at all.

Then I consoled myself.  We didn’t need to climb mountains to accomplish anything.  Over the years, I had managed to instill in them a love of learning and reading.  I had given them a healthy sense of adventure.  And I had done that without a single spider bite, without a night sleeping on the ground, without carrying a pack on my back.

My kids are fun and spontaneous.  They have a joy for life and live that life with exuberance.  They know how to pack in minutes.  They know how to load a car.  They can sleep anywhere.  They are fearless without being reckless.  And because of all that, we have had an amazing life.

When we have been stressed from working too hard and not living enough, I could tell them to grab a few things and hop in the car.  That was one of our favorites experiences and memories from the summer of 2010.  We took a day trip to Charleston.  It was a three hour drive each way.  We left at 11am, arrived shortly after 2pm.  We walked the beach.  We shopped.  We admired the architecture.  We ate ice cream.  It was research.  We had decided to spend the summer looking for the best ice cream shops.  Kilwin’s.  Hands down.  And after much research.  Kilwin’s.

We went home that night tired, relaxed, and happy.  We know how to live.  And I think that’s what Up was about.  It was about inspiring a sense of adventure.  It was about trying new things.  It was about accomplishing goals, whatever they may be.  And in that sense, we are doing it just right.

And while I don’t know a lot about jewelry making, I do know what I like.  I love the work she does with stone.  Her wire wrapped stone necklaces are gorgeous.  I was an instant fan.

Our friendship grew through the fall.  She came up one other time and we all ate at Monterrey’s together.  If that won’t seal a friendship, I don’t know what will.  Mmmm, queso.  It wasn’t just that.  In Rebecca, I found someone with similar views of the world.  She is forever sharing positive quotes and motivational pictures on her Facebook page.

When I heard that she wanted to make a real go of the jewelry making, I did what I could to encourage her.  And I told her I’d love to write about her one day.  Then I was on bed rest.  Then Kenna was born.  And I guess I’ve been a little busy ever since.

Rebecca contacted me.  She wanted to make me a custom necklace.  (She makes all kinds of custom jewelry, too.  Just in case you are interested.  And you should be very interested.)  She asked me about making a necklace for Kenna.  She wanted to make something that I could hold onto when I couldn’t hold Kenna.  I gave her a few ideas and soon I received my new favorite piece of jewelry.

See, I’m not a fan of pink.  In fact, Kenna is only three months old today and I am over pink already.  When I buy for Kenna’s bedding, I buy purple.  For her…it’s all about purple butterflies.  And that is what inspired this necklace the Rebecca made me.  Thank you, LightShine Designs.

Rebecca sells her creations on Etsy or check her out on her fan page for LightShine Designs..  And if you want something custom, and she can make just about anything, then just ask.  This piece is all mine for now, but one day, when Kenna gets old enough, it will be hers.  And I’ll tell her the story about how our good friend, Rebecca, made it for us when she was born.

If you want to read how Kenna responded to the necklace, check out the post on What Dreamers Do.

And then it happened yesterday.  I was reading the book while my car was inspected and the oil changed.  I arrived at 1pm thinking that would be more than enough time to make it to see Kenna in the hospital.  My micro preemie is growing and finally recovering from her Necrotizing Entercolitis.  She is now two and a half months old and weighs two and a half pounds.  It may not seem like much, but since she started at nine ounces, we’re super impressed with her.

There are aspects about having a micro preemie that other parents never consider…like in all that time…Kenna has only been held five times.  Most parents do that the first day of their child’s life.  We almost never can.  And it sucks, but it’s all about what is best for her.  We don’t get to touch her every visit either.  And after being sick for two weeks, I was eager to touch her again, change her diaper, take her temperature.  It’s the only way I can be involved in her life.

Well, the mechanic promised me I’d be done in forty minutes.  No problem.  I told him I had to be at the hospital by 2:40.  He said no problem.  Her feeding was at 3pm, but after parking, walking, riding the elevators, and washing for three minutes, it eats up a lot of time.  And the drive was a good thirty minutes or more, depending on traffic.

So, I went inside to wait and read.  I was reading and feeling a bit emotional.  I knew this pain that she experienced.  It wasn’t from losing a husband, but from losing a child…two actually…in the course of my life.  And I greatly fear losing Kenna.  She’s come so far, but she has so far to go.  Every minute is precious.

Ah, but I had plenty of time.

I waited.  And I read.  I read.  And I waited.

I checked the clock.  An hour went by.  It was 2pm.  Then an hour and a half.  It was 2:30pm.  I wasn’t going to make it.  I could feel the panic rising in my chest.  I could feel my self getting impatient.  My face was getting flushed.  Then the prickling started in my eyes.  Yup.  I was going to cry.  And I don’t cry publicly.  I haven’t cried in the NICU.  I wasn’t going to cry in the oil change place.

They finally talked to me at 2:57.  My face was red.  I had called S to talk me down.  Sometimes I just need him to talk sense to me.  And the consensus was that I was overreacting.

S: Baby, is that post-partum depression thing finally catching up with you?

me: *sniffle* Maybe.

Only I don’t think it is depression.  I think it is stress.  I think it is fear.  I think it is relinquishing control.  That may be the scariest thing of all for a control freak like me.

So, I made it to the NICU later than I planned.  And because I was already late…I helped a woman who was lost.  I certainly have learned my way around the hospital after two and a half months.  And I helped two people who had never been in the NICU before with the protocol.  And I was finally calm by the time I saw Kenna.

Good things come to those who wait.

For the first time in over two weeks, I held her.  I held her for two whole hours.  And it was pure bliss.

Signs of Life was given to me by the From Left to Write Online Book Club.  The story relating to the book is all mine.

There are times that we simply need to slow down and just be in the moment.

It was like that last night.  I had already written out a list for S of what he needed to do today all before 10am.  It was a lengthy list.  At 10am, he needs to be here for our meeting.  We are meeting with one of our main product line reps.  It’s a really important, really big meeting.

And I was thinking about that and everything else last night.  We go to bed together every night.  It was a hard habit for him to embrace, but now he just takes for granted that we will go to bed together every night.  And we usually discuss it.  He gives me his run down of the night and I plan my pumps accordingly.  It works out great.

So, we were in the bedroom, our room, which is different from the room we are currently sleeping in.  We have to finish up in there and we can sleep in it again for a week or so until the flooring gets done…then we’re out again.  S was telling me about his plans for the next day.  They are huge.  It’s a much different life I’m having than I ever imagined.  At least part of it is.

I love doing home remodeling projects.  I never imagined I’d marry someone who did that for a living and that I’d be running the office, but it was always that way in our plan for our life.  And I really like it.  I like that all of this is falling into place, that it’s all happening and our dreams are coming true.  That is everything.

S saw me lying on our bed looking around.  He smiled then hopped on and joined me.  We stared at the walls.  We commented on how pleased we were with the colors.  We snuggled a little.  And then it hit me.  I rolled over and looked him in the eye.

me: Thank you for our life.

He nodded and looked serious.

me: Really.  I love it.  I love everything about it.

It’s the life I never knew I always wanted.  I am so blessed.

Go make your life one that you love.  Make it so special and so worth while that you never look back and wonder where the time went and feel the need to bargain for more.  Live a life well-spent.  Every moment of it.  And most of all, take the time to appreciate what you have.  That’s what I’m doing.

It started with Friday night when we were at the hospital for quite a while.  We had our Kenna visit, of course, but Mawmaw was also  in the hospital and we went to visit her, too.  In the middle, we grabbed dinner in the cafeteria.  And I have to admit…I don’t mind cafeteria food.  Theirs is super tasty.  Only we were late, so the salad bar was gone.  And the meals were gone.  It was pretty much the grill, where S gets his chicken tenders and fries or some of the pre-made stuff.  I found clam chowder and parfaits.  Only…I didn’t want the guilt of buying a parfait.  S saw me staring at them.

S: What’d you find?

me: Oreo parfait.

S: Looks good.

me: Wanna split it?

Now…I don’t really want to split it.  I want to give him a bite so I don’t feel guilty about eating the whole thing.  It didn’t even have to be a big bite.  Just a nibble…really.

And so we sat and ate.  S eats faster so he opened the parfait.  He took a bite.  Then two.  He stopped after seeing the look of alarm on my face.  And I ate the rest.  We talked about it later.  He knew.  He knows me.  And I love that.

The rest of the weekend was more of the same.  More moments where I just felt so loved and understood.  Apparently I do the same for him.  More and more he comments that he couldn’t have this life with anyone else.  He mentioned it about the third time after our talk on the couch last night.  We were discussing the company again, growing the business, how important it was to him that the jobs are perfect.

me: They aren’t going to go perfectly.  That’s not how it works.  But a company isn’t defined by perfection, it’s defined by how the problems are handled.  Look at that one review on Angie’s List.  The guy commented on how impressed he was that you called when you were running late.  That’s what matters to people.  They understand running late, they expect to wait and wonder.  You called and that made all the difference.

S: I love your pep talks.  I needed that.  This is why I keep telling you I couldn’t build this business or have this life with anyone else.  Will you give me another one in the morning?

me: Yes, babe.

And I did.

But I’m not the only one who gives pep talks, either.  He saw me stressing after he had watched me pacing.  I had recently finished talking to Kenna’s doctor.  Kenna had to start the steroids for her lungs earlier than I wanted.  She wasn’t on full feeds like we had planned.  In fact, she still wasn’t feeding at all.  She was requiring more and more support.  The steroids were the only way to go.

Still, I worried.  And S saw it.  He reached over and grabbed my hand while we were driving to Lowe’s.

S: She’s going to be just fine.  Really.

me: How did you know?

S: I saw the look on your face.  I knew what you were thinking about.  And really…she’s tough.

That little girl constantly surprises us.  We’ll take the time.  And we’ll get her, too.  In some ways…we already do.

And we started to paint the hall the same new yellow, but it looks terrible, so now that is half done…but the new light install there is all done, and I’m thinking that should count for something.  Right?

Which brings us to last night where we realized that we had to move out of the bedroom…immediately.  The ceiling was to be scraped.  Then I would be painting the walls.  And finally there would be new carpet and trim.  So, we’ll be moving back in…sometime this summer.  Or sooner.  It must be done before Kenna comes home. Trust me when I say that two adults, one Great Dane, and an itty bitty baby cannot possibly comfortably fit into a 10×10 room.  I don’t think.  Well…I don’t want to find out.

This is what's left of our bedroom.

And this is where we're never all going to fit...

And this is the dining room we never used, but I'd still like to reclaim. Now it's holding all of our bamboo flooring.

This is what the floor will look like. And that stain is one of the many reasons the carpet has to go. That must have been some party.

And so I woke up, helped move furniture, pumped, and walked by 8:30am.  S called twice on my walk.  One time…to tell me I had to pick up mud.  Immediately.  It is now almost 5pm.  The guy doing the ceiling has left.  And he didn’t even open the mud.  Sometimes…yeah…that.  So after the Lowe’s run I had to shower.  I know.  I went in public fresh from bed, sweaty in my workout clothes…and I still smelled better than most of the guys in the contractor line with me.  My sweat is lilac scented.  Bwah ha ha.

So, on the bright side, I was able to shower in the recently renovated hall bath.  Hey, the bathroom is less than a year old.  When you’re living in a 30 year old home…that’s new.  And, in other news, my deepest apologies to my neighbors.  I was halfway through pumping this morning in the privacy of my bedroom, when I realized it wasn’t so private and I could see all of you in your kitchen.  My bad.

I had no idea they were so...close...and visible. Guess I was, too.

So, it’s five o’clock when most people are finishing work.  We ran an estimate.  We ran to the job.  We ran to the hospital to see Kenna.  We ran to pick up S’s truck from repair.  And I ran home.  And in some ways…I am just starting.

Hope you had a fabulous day.

S: Why don’t you take a picture?  It will last longer.

Yes.  For a minute, he was five.  And I did.  Because a photo is all about capturing moments you want to last…or having something to hold over a person’s head.  But not these.  These were moments I wanted to remember.

The tree that started it all...

Finding lilacs in bloom.

Turing a corner to find a deer.

Seeing more deer!

This is my favorite part of the walk.

Beauty is everywhere...

Take a moment to look for it.  It may surprise you where you start seeing it.

Is it no wonder that I love my walks, that they get my head right for the day?  I’m heading to the hospital to see my baby now.  Have a really special day.

S had me quit my job closing in on a year ago.  The plan was that I would have time then to run his office and I would be able to write.  I had a few clients that I wrote SEO for.  I added a client that I wrote blogs for.  And that was fine.  I still wrote for Yahoo! and did book reviews.  I was writing all the time.  Only…not for me.  Except for the blogs, my writing all but dried up.

I wasn’t making enough money to make it worthwhile, but I didn’t know how to stop.  I couldn’t justify stopping because I had to contribute.  So I pressed on and did what I didn’t enjoy doing to make others happy.

So I thought.

Everything happens for a reason.  And after a year of writing the same tired SEO articles…I’m done.  And maintaining the blog for the other company…that is done, too.  It feels like I lost a thousand pounds.  There is possibility again and hope.  Maybe now I can write what I want.

I think about what S said…in his less than eloquent but decidedly supportive way.

S: You don’t have to write any more.  We are big enough that you can just manage the office.

And last night, I had no words.  I had nothing to write about.  And I have been toying with taking a break from blogging or blogging less.  I am trying to work on me, the house, the business, and the novels.  Maybe I need to be more frugal with my words.

Only I’m not sure I know how to.

So, I’ll see where I am over the next few weeks.  I’ll see where I am in the next month.  I have a few writing goals for before Kenna comes home.  Now that she’s healing, I feel like there is an end in sight.  And in so many ways, for the first time in a long time…I can breathe.  Like the air after a rain, it is fresh and full of hope.  We have a big future ahead of us.