I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always
~Robert Munsch

The book, Love You Forever has been my favorite book since childhood. My little paperback copy has been gone through thousands of times. It was read to me so often as a child that I had it memorized before I could make sense of the letters on the page. As I grew, I read and recited it to my baby sister. I remember her crawling into bed with me and asking, for the one millionth time, for me to read it to her. I took my much-used copy to college with me, and now it sits in an honored position in my home. For my nephew's first Christmas, I bought a copy for him from Hallmark. This was a special gift for me to give him, since his mother is the same little girl that would sit and listen to me read that same book over, and over again. Because of busy lives and the hours that separate us, I knew that I would not get to see Carter as much as I would like to, so this purchase was an emotional gift that probably meant more to me to give than I could even admit. Thanks to technology, I was able to record myself reading this sweet love story to another generation.

Yesterday, an article about that book came across my homepage feed, and of course, I had to read it. This article discussed the parenting style represented in this book (which I had never considered before) and actually criticized it to some degree. I was on the verge of closing my browser, and not finishing the article on principle, until the language started to change, and the author brought to light something about the book I was unaware of.
The inspiration behind this fantastic book is one of such heartache, and profound love, even beyond the story it's self. The author wrote the book for his two still born children.

If you know my story you can see why this might have struck a chord with me. I bawled after reading about his struggle after his family's tragedy. Only those in my very inner circle know that I have lost a baby. No, I did not have it long; I didn't even know I was pregnant when i lost it. Knowing how I felt during that time in my life, and using my imagination and empathetic heart, I can't help but put myself in the shoes of the author. I read the book again after my education, and I saw it with new eyes. It is a beautiful tribute to the lives of his two babies who never had a chance to take their first breaths.

If you would like to listen to the author read his story, and sing the song he struggled with for so long, follow the link below.
Love You Forever

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle.
~Jane Austen

As I sit here, contemplating my life and evaluating myself, I have come to understand that I am a selfish person, and that it is alright. That statement was only 26.5 years in the making. For a few months now, my husband and I have been attending the "Celebrate Recovery" meetings at our church. I am not ashamed to tell you that I went reluctantly at first. Boy, am I glad that I fought the urge to run from myself. This experience has given me the courage I needed to be able to take a long look inside myself and evaluate myself in the most honest terms. I am fearful of the future, I fear failure, I have approval addiction, anger issues and I am codependent. (Here is the definition, in case you, like me have never heard that term before: It often involves placing a lower priority on one's own needs, while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others)

I would never have defined my life by that term in the past. Yes, for years, I have struggled with what I thought were the "normal" struggles of a respectfull, caring person. Questions plagued me like, Where do others needs end and mine start? Is it ok to say "no", even if it is the answer I really want to give? How will others view me if I don't do what is expected of me? The list could go on and on. Don't get me wrong, I am not painting the picture of myself as a subservient girl, worn down with the worry of caring for others. Outwardly, you may never have known my struggles. I just chose not to even put myself in situations where I could feel pressured to be deeply involved, or care to much.

"Celebrate Recovery" (CR) has helped me to define my feelings and fears, and given me tools to combat them. As I said, I am a selfish person, and it's ok. It's ok to focus on me once in a while. It's ok to to admit that I have needs and feelings, and they are no less important than anyone else's. My time is valuable, and it is ok to say no if I want, to to any event, even those that are offered by loved ones. This new freedom does not give me carte Blanche to be rude, or unsociable, but it makes it ok to be who I really am without fear. Once I understood this, some of my other struggles made more sense. I still struggle, but I remind myself daily that it is ok to be selfish.

I had to put my heart out there for you to fully understand the struggle I am going through right now. As I have mentioned before, Cam and I are unlabele to have children of our own. We are researching all our options, and adoption seems to be the best course of action. (We will try iui, etc as well) We are looking to adopt out of DHS care. We would love a beautiful baby we could take home from the hospital, but we simply can't afford to pay the $40,000.00 it takes for the adoption. (Seriously, that is about average for an adoption not done through DHS) Part of the process is deciding what limitations or deformities, if you will, you are willing to accept in your future child. As a selfish person, (well, maybe, lets call it ideal) I want to check "none of the above." Out of bravery, or that deep need to not disappoint anyone, I check a few boxes that are not serious illnesses. I feel pretty good about myself -a little charitable even. Out of curiosity and longing, I then go to the sites that show waiting children that are needing families. Not one of them do I even have the desire to take home. Yes, they are all sweet kiddos, who need love and care, but not from me. Most if them are mentally challenged, and about half of them are bound to a wheel chair. I have no problems with children like this, and I feel for them. At the risk of being taken wrong, I do not want to be their mother.

There lies my struggle. Yes, it is ok to be selfish, but how far does that go? I want to be a mother, and am unable to do so naturally. These children are parent less, some of them given up because of ailments they were born with. It is not their fault. They did not ask for the life they are having to live. I am sympathetic to that. Do my sympathies end at simple heart pangs for the helpless children, and is that enough? Is it ok that a good thought Sent their way is enough for me? Is it selfish of me to desire my "prefect" child?
I am so torn.