Dad's Birthday

Today is my dad’s birthday. He would be 59. As I sit here sipping coffee, I am forcing myself to think that today is a day of celebration, NOT sadness, because although he is no longer here on earth, my father had this “talent” for lack of better word to impact everyone he met. Dad was the type of man that I could laugh with, go to for advice, or get help with math and science. He was incredibly patient, and the most sensible person I have ever known. I sit here chuckling to myself as memories come flooding back to me and I thought I would share them…

Dad had this love for the outdoors and camping. Fortunately, he passed that love down to me, and I loved, and still do love camping. One camping trip in particular I remember was a summer I was about 10 or 11. We had Grandpa Norris’ green camper van, and we were heading to Washington state to go camping for a few days before I was to spend a few days with my cousins at their trailer. We were listening to weird Al Yankovic (don’t judge) and singing along, when dad got the idea we should make up our own song. We started creating our own words to “Do Wah Ditty” and changed them to “Oooh What A Dumb Twitty”. I don’t remember all the words, just one line that said “She was a gorilla with a purse” I thought it was hysterical.

Dad and I had a special bond where we both had a love of music. He even tried to teach me how to play the accordion! I say tried because I wasn’t very good at it. Once I learned how to play the flute, we would have these “jam” sessions, dad on the accordion, and me on my flute. I shake my head and smile and feel bad for our poor neighbours. When I was little, dad was part of a cover band called “Angelheart” I was in LOVE with the band. I loved when he’d go to band practice, and I got special permission to go down and listen to them play. I was a real groupie. Sometimes, if I was really quiet and good, I got to sing with them. Pretty sure I was one of the few 7 year olds that knew all the words to songs like “Hurt So Good” “Shot Through the Heart” “Little Red Riding Hood” and “Stray Cat Strut” to name a few. For Christmas one year, dad had compiled a list of songs they recorded, and made a cd for me. I still have it to this day, and I still listen to it frequently. One day I hope to pass it down to my kids so they can hear what Grandpa Mike sounded like.

Another thing dad passed down to me was the love of hockey, and in particular the Vancouver Canucks.  When I was little, I loved Hockey Night in Canada nights when the Canucks would play, because it meant we’d go over to the Marsden’s or they’d come to our house, I got to stay up late and eat chips and drink pop, and watch hockey. Although I didn’t fully understand what was going on, I loved that I’d cheer when dad cheered, and yell at the referee when dad would yell. As I got older and started to understand the game, it became a special quality time with dad, and he taught me the love of the game and the rules. When I moved to Ottawa with dad and Mary, we turned our loyalty over to the Ottawa Senators (with a strong love for the Canucks in our back pockets). Dad and I would sit in front of the tv and cheer on the team, or blame the refs for the loss. When playoffs came, and Mary had gone to bed, dad and I would sit with baited breath and wait for the golden goal, cheering at the top of our lungs, waking Mary and most likely giving her a heart attack. Even though dad is gone, I still watch the games with that same baited breath, cheering loudly, and calling the refs “one eyed son of a monkey’s uncle”

Dad also taught me how to drive. I was so excited when I got my learners, I begged my dad to take me out, thinking “okay we’ll go to a parking lot and he’ll teach me how to drive in circles” Oh how wrong I was. He drove to this one long stretch of road that was 80km/h, pulled over and got out. “Okay Lisa, drive” I was crying, swerving and freaking out. Dad, in his calm voice told me to calm down, and look straight ahead. In no time I was driving! When it was time for me to do my road test, dad picked me up from school and drove to the course, and made me practice until I had it down pat. I passed on the first try with flying colours!

Dad was also someone I knew I could go to for advice, and not be judged. When I was 15, I was bullied. I’m deaf in my left ear, and the doctor thought it would be a good idea to wear a hearing aid, and talk to a hearing specialist, IN HIGHSCHOOL. People caught wind of this, and they were relentless with the bullying. On one of the weekends at my dads, we were working on putting a roof on the shed, and I opened up to him. I told him that I hated being bullied and I didn’t know how to deal with it. He told me that when he was in HS, he was bullied a lot for his size, and he decided to roll with it, until one of the bullies pushed him so far, he punched the bully in the face, almost breaking his nose. The bully left him alone after that. Now dad wasn’t saying I should punch someone in the face, but to let it roll of my back. If I needed to stand up for myself, he would back me up. I decided to take his advice and the bullying stopped for the most part. I also “lost” the hearing aid, so I didn’t have to wear it anymore, and when I moved to a new school, I made the decision to not let anyone know about my partial deafness. A lot of people don’t know I’m partially deaf either.

Another time I went to my dad for advice was when I was 19. I was dating a guy, and his friend was having a party, and invited us to go and spend the night. I was terrified. I knew what spending the night meant, and wasn’t sure if I was “ready”. I asked dad what I should do, and instead he told me what he would do, which was to follow his gut. He asked me how I felt about it, and I told him I was terrified and not ready. Needless to say, the guy I was dating dumped me soon after, and I realized that I made the right decision.

All this being said, I miss my dad. I miss singing with him, playing cribbage with him, watching hockey, or just chatting. I’m sad that my husband never got to meet him, and that when I have kids, they won’t know who their grandpa Mike was. I hope my dad is proud of me. I try to be like him, and when a tough situation arises, I try to think how he would advise me. I also hope that I can pass things down to my kids that my dad passed down to me. But I think I’ll leave the accordion playing to him.

Happy Birthday Dad. I miss you and love you.

Lisa's Dark Day(s)

One of my favourite shows is Gilmour Girls. I've always admired the wittiness and the connection between Lorelai(Mother), and Rory (daughter).  One of the characters I really liked was Luke Danes. He was a side character, he owned a diner, and because Loralai's love interest. One of the episodes was titled "Luke's Dark Day" where he disappears for the day. Lorelai, being Lorelai, decides she has to find out what this dark day is. As it turns out, it's the anniversary of his fathers death, and Luke needs time to just be sad and grieve.

Unfortunately for me, August has a few "dark days" August 7, 2004 was by far the worst day of my life. It was the day my brother called sobbing, telling me my dad had died. He had a stroke the week before, and died from complications. He was 49. We went from planning his 50th surprise party, to planning a funeral, just like that. August 7th is my dark day. I have tried these past couple of years to try to shine some light on this day, think of the positive memories that make me smile, or laugh (like the time we were at the border line-up and I wrote help on a piece of paper and held it up to the window and waved at people, causing the border patrol stopping my dad and interrogating us in separate rooms) (or the time we were cooking for my step-mom and he was roasting almonds in the oven and forgot about them causing them to set fire, and he started yelling "Lisa! MY NUTS ARE ON FIRE!!" which caused my to dissolve in a fit of giggles while he was trying to put out his nuts, and laughing). Unfortunately, those memories turn into me missing my dad more than I can bear, and I turn into a grieving puddle of tears. It's hard. It'll be nine years this coming August, and it does NOT get easier with time. I miss my dad. I miss the fact that I can't just call him up for advice. I can't go visit him and watch hockey together and yell at the stupid referees.

August 12th, dark day #2. My dad's birthday. I was one of the very lucky ones who almost had a chance to share a birthday with him. I was born (according to my mom) at 12:05am August 13th. One thing that was great about this was when I was living with my dad and step mom, we got to go out for dinner two nights in a row. On the 12th, my dad would choose the restaurant, and on the 13th, I got to choose. When I turned 18, they took me to the Casino in Hull, Quebec (legal drinking age there is 18) and when I turned 19 we went to a Mexican place where I had my first shot of tequila. I miss celebrating with my dad. I have done that for as long as I can remember. We'd sit in the restaurant and a song would come on the speakers and sure enough, Mike Norris would know the song. He'd sit there with a smirk on his face "Lis, I know you know this." "No dad, I'm not 5000 years old like you. I don't know this song"  Afterwards, we'd go to DQ and have blizzards for dessert. The year my dad died, Dairy Queen had their Miracle Treat day on August 12th. You buy a blizzard, and they donated to the Childrens Miracle Network (something my dad always donated to) It was as if it were a sign from dad himself. Ever since then, every miracle treat day, we go to DQ and treat ourselves to a blizzard in memory of my dad. This year, it's August 8th, so if you want to have a blizzard in honour of my dad, I wouldn't object.


August 30th, dark day number 3. My nana's anniversary. How funny (not haha funny) is it that about 3 weeks after my dad died, we lost my nana to breast cancer? I miss my nana very much. She was an elegant lady, very witty and fashionable! Nana loved people watching. We'd go to the mall just to eat in the Bay cafeteria, and then sit on a bench and watch all these people walk by. Nana is the reason for my love of tea. When I was little, I'd spend the weekend with nana and papa. In the summertime, we'd sit out on the sun deck and have a tea party. I had my very own tea set and everything! It was a special bond we had. As I got older, we'd still sit on the sun deck and have tea, and long chats about everything under the sun. On their 50th wedding anniversary, I was living in another part of the country, so my friend and I re-enacted the first time nana and papa met on video and sent it to them. Apparently it was a riot.


I know that these days will always be somewhat dark days. I hope that sometime soon there will be some "light" days in August.

Pity Party Table for one

I'm frustrated. I'm mad. I'm upset. I'm losing hope.

In other words, I'm emotional today. I should be 8 months along, preparing for the arrival of our little one. I should be ready to pop, talking excitedly about our little girl or our little boy on the way.

But I'm not. I'm sitting here in tears, because it's another reminder that for some reason, it's not meant to be. And I don't have anyone here to talk to, or to hug me. Now before you sit here and judge, this is MY blog, MY thoughts, MY emotions. If you can't deal, don't read. I can write whatever I feel, and today this is what I feel.

Now don't get me wrong, I am a part of a wonderful support group, and I love the ladies in there so much. They have been there. Are there. They understand.

I am feeling so many emotions today. And I know why. It's mid July, and July and August are the worst months. July is a certain persons birthday, and August is the month my dad died, and his birthday, and my birthday.

I hate being so emotional, and vulnerable. I HATE IT. I HATE that I cry so easily, that I can't seem to be happy with what I have, I have to have more. I hate that I can't work in the nursery at my church, because it takes everything in me not to burst into tears when I hold a baby in my arms... I hate that right now my parenthood depends on some frigging classes and someone coming in my home to see if I'm "fit to parent" ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME??? Do you NOT see my heart? Do you not know that I frequently cry myself to sleep because of that ache, that longing that deep desire?

I try so hard to remain positive, to be strong, because I know that's who people say I am. Well I'm not. I'm not positive, I'm not strong. I am so weak, and so lost. I have little hope, little faith. I just don't know how to keep going.


**side note....I'm not suicidal. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the hope of parenthood, and adopting/conceiving***

Hard to Let Go

I find that sometimes in life, we are told to let go. Trust. Take that leap of faith. I remember being a kid, and I was in swimming lessons. I was absolutely terrified of the water, and hated getting my face wet. (can you say diva??) I remember in order to pass the yellow class, we had to jump in the deep end and let our swimming instructor catch us. Uh hello? You mean I have to get my face wet? What if she doesn't catch me? Needless to say, I failed the yellow class. I was very upset. But determined. That summer, my dad took me swimming. Again, he was in the deep end, and he told me to jump, trust him, he'll catch me. I jumped and he caught me! That following year, I passed the yellow class with flying colours.

Why that illustration? Because I think in life we are told to let go, and take that leap. Let go of something we so desperately want to cling on to, that plan we have for our lives, when all God wants to do is take control. I look back on my life, and see how so many times God was whispering "Let go. Trust me. Take that leap." And how so many times, like the child on the edge of the deep end, chose not to jump. How much I missed out on, because I didn't trust. But. I also reflect on the times I DID jump, and trust God, and how it worked in my life. Marrying Jonathan, moving up north, and now adopting.

I have to say, this decision to adopt is a very hard one. It means no longer trying to conceive, no longer anticipating that dreaded two week wait from ovulating to possible pregnancy. Not being able to go to ultrasounds, or feeling kicks. Not carrying a child and having people ask "When are you due?" I'll be honest. I don't want to let go. I don't want to take this leap of faith, but I know I have to. I know this is the journey that God has laid out for my life, and out there somewhere is a little boy or girl just waiting to be loved.

People say that it takes a huge heart to want to adopt. They're right. But it takes an even bigger FAITH to trust that God's plans are the best plans. In a society where we want to take control, it's so hard to give that up and say "Here Lord, take my life, take control" Part of us wants to add "but let me do it my way, and if that doesn't work, then you can take control" I sit here today broken hearted, yet hopeful. I'm broken hearted because I know that it's not in God's plans to conceive...YET. I know it's in his will to adopt our first child. As broken hearted as I am, I am so blessed and honoured that I am chosen to be an adoptive mother. I am so blessed to be married to someone who was adopted and understands what our child will be going through, and relate. It's something that is very humbling, yet heartbreaking. I know for now, I have to let go of the desire to be pregnant, and turn that desire to do what God wants for my life.

Like the scripture says "Delight yourself in the Lord; and he will give you the desires of your heart" Psalm 37:4

I think I'm ready to jump.

Dreams

This morning I had a dream. Jonathan and I were out on the lake, and we were canoeing. The weather was perfect, and the water was very calm. On the other side of the lake, was a little child, I'd say about 2-3 tops. I couldn't see if it was a boy or girl, but it was calling out to us, "Mommy, Daddy!" We started to paddle towards the child, and the water started getting choppier, and the wind had started to pick up. Clouds came rolling in, and it was so dark, we couldn't see in front of us. It was pouring rain, and we were struggling against the waves. I was calling out to the child "Mommy and daddy are coming, just hold on." "mommy daddy, I need you" We started to paddle harder, and no matter what, the wind kept pushing us back. All of a sudden, there was another weight on the back of the boat, as someone just sat down. In a soft soothing voice he spoke "give me the paddles, let me take control" Jonathan and I turned around and handed him the paddles. At once, the water calmed, the clouds cleared and the sun started shinning. In the sky, I could see a rainbow as bright as can be. We sat back and were paddled to shore, where the little child was. (I still couldn't see the gender) Jonathan and I rushed to the child and picked it up and hugged and held the child. As I turned to thank the other person in the boat, he just sat in the back and whispered, "Let me control the boat, and it'll be okay"

My Journey

It's been a little over a year that Jonathan and I have been trying to conceive. We have had no such luck.(don't get me wrong, the trying is still fun!) After some disappointing negative home pregnancy tests, 2 chemical pregnancies and people around us popping out babies like there was no tomorrow (I still love you all) we sat down and started to discuss our next steps in starting a family. We decided that we would look into adopting. Let me just start by saying that choosing adoption is no easy task. It's not like picking out what you're going to wear, or what to make for supper. It takes a lot of thought, a lot of discussion, and in our case a lot of prayer.

We started our process in Hamilton through CAS, and went to an information session. They basically tell you about the many steps involved in adoption, and all the paperwork involved. The paperwork is: medical reports, family history questionnaires, home safety checklists, criminal record checks, vulnerable screening tests, and financial information. We had completed our paperwork in Hamilton, and were waiting to hear about the PRIDE training sessions, which is 8 weeks of parenting classes, teaching you about how to be an adoptive parent (to generalize) Basically, you need the PRIDE training before you can really do anything. There are also 3 home studies involved, the initial meet and greet, meeting us separately, and the final home study before the child is placed in the home. This seems like it's easy and takes no time, but in Hamilton we had to wait about a YEAR before we could even start the PRIDE training. I was discouraged. THEN, we moved.

Here in Huntsville, we started our adoption process through the Muskoka CAS in mid September. Early October, we met with our social worker who did the initial home study. I was so nervous I barely slept the night before. We had a lot of questions to answer (the key one being "Why do you want to adopt?) and it was a lot of information to take in. Our next phase was to start in January, which would have been the PRIDE training, but at that time, we didn't think that we were ready to adopt, or that it was our journey. So, we put that on hold and continued to try to conceive naturally.

We tried from mid October and said we'd give it until the end of July, and if nothing happens, we'll look back into adopting. In November, we had a chemical pregnancy which is another way of saying an early miscarriage. A chemical is a miscarriage before a heartbeat can be detected, usually happens about 2-4 weeks pregnant. While I was devastated, I was hopeful since this meant we could get pregnant, and surely by that God wants us to keep trying. So, of course we kept trying. I took folic acid, pre-natal vitamins, tracked my days, and basically it became a chore rather than an intimate time with my husband. In March, we got another positive test, and a few days later, we had another loss. While we were still praying about what God's plan was, we decided to go forward with fertility testing to really SEE if we could conceive. So, Jonathan did his "boy test" and I did my girl test, and everything came back normal. Again I was happy, because this meant we could get pregnant. About a month ago, I've started to think about adopting again. I started wondering if maybe I really was meant to adopt. I thought about it more, and started praying about it more, and the more I thought about it, and the more I prayed about it, the more at peace and content I became with the idea. I shared the idea with Jonathan, and he was so happy to see I had finally "come around" and could see what he was trying to say all this time.

  I'll say this. Adopting isn't for the flighty or the impatient (a thing I'm working on) You have to want to adopt, knowing that although this child is yours, it's not entirely "yours". You have to know and understand especially with a CAS child, there are going to be obstacles in raising that child, and they may require extra time, patience, love and compassion. There's a lot of prayer and preparation involved. Maybe that's why it takes a while from the time you submit the application to having the child placed.

I've decided to start this blog because I want to enlighten people about the journey of adoption. I don't think a lot of people know what it takes to adopt. We see celebrities on TV adopting all the time, and it seems so easy *cough cough brangelina cough cough* Maybe for them it is. I know for Jonathan and I, it's far from it, but I know in the end it will be the most rewarding experience of our lives.

So I ask this my dear readers: if you're the praying type, please pray for us. We feel this is the path God has lined for us. (not that we won't still enjoy the other thing haha) Right now we don't care how long it takes, we have handed everything over to God, and know it's in His time, not ours. If you're not the praying type, then please think happy thoughts for us. I hope to keep you all updated the best I can.

Reflection

I know this is to be a blog regarding my weight loss, but I feel like I have something else on my heart to share.

I've been doing a lot of reflecting on this past year. I guess it all started on Wednesday when I made a joke to my husband about his spending habits (or lack thereof) he replied "we didn't ever have the money to spend. I guess that's where the reflecting started. This past year has shown us a lot of ups and downs a lot of tears and laughter, but through it all, God has been there for us, preparing us, and leading us.

I remember back in June when things got really bad for us. We were both struggling in our jobs, living paycheck to paycheck (barely at times) and feeling stressed and depressed. Then Jonathan's grandma died. That in itself was bittersweet. She was old, (in her 90's) lived and incredible life, and was a believer. We know she's now reunited with Grandpa, but the loss was still hard for us. A week after that I got into a car accident and totaled our charger. Did I mention that we still owed a lot on our car loan? Talk about a kick in the pants. I grew angry/frustrated/depressed/hopeless/discouraged. I had a hard time praying, asking God for help. Instead I would ask what was next. I asked why He was testing us, what more did He want? I knew the answer. He wanted all of me. Every part of my life, my hopes, my dreams, my fears, failures. All of it. He wanted me to be patient and trust Him. So, I swallowed my pride and started to pray differently. I thanked Him for things that haven't happened in my life yet, and found at least one thing to be thankful for, amidst all of the things happening around us. In the meantime, we were asking God for clear direction as to where He wanted us and what He wanted us to do. We were crying out in desperation to God. Giving everything over to Him.

Well let me tell you when God answers prayer, He ANSWERS prayer! Within a time of about a month, Jonathan applied for a job, got two interviews, a job offer, we found a place, and moved.

We've been here 3.5 months. And it's been incredible how God is supplying all our needs and providing for us. We are so incredibly blessed and thankful. But we know it's all because of being obedient and faithful to a God who is faithful.