A Little Advice...

No, not advice from me. I have no advice on babies or infants and such like that. I do have advice on how to survive years without kids. It's very good advice. You should ask sometime. But only if you need it.

I'm digressing.

I need advice, or rather a list on what you need for a baby. Not clothes. Clothes I know. Clothes we have. What I want to know is, what do you need the first, let's say, 72 hours after you bring a newborn home? And don't say "diapers". I have it on good authority that babies don't poop until they're about 6 months old. Right? Right? right? Not right? :(

Zack and I have spent the past, oh, 4 or 5 years or so getting ready for baby. We have a nursery, we have a crib and we are now the proud owners of a car seat and stroller. They've even been tested! (Thanks Emma and Beth!) We have clothes. We have many many clothes. (Clothes have been good therapy for us.) We have a dresser full of said clothes. I call it my "Hope Chest".

Here's a nice shot of my hope chest:

Here's the crib full of stuffed animals. You can never have too many, right? (How will the kids play "Smother" when they get older if you don't have a ton of stuffed animals?)

Here's our sweet new stroller. Beth-tested, ZaCarrie approved. It's in the spot where the rocker will go someday.

And here's the car seat and bookshelf. We even have some cool childrens books about adoption!

So what I'm saying is we've got lots of things. And we feel as prepared as you can be when you might have a baby next month or you might have a baby in two years. But we're not prepared for the day to day stuff. Sure babies need clothes, but what kind of clothes? What about bath stuff? Food, diapers, blankets, diaper bag, etc. What do you really need? I think I'm starting to panic just a little because as of this weekend, we could have a baby at any time. Literally, ANY TIME. (But nobody's really expecting that...)

So I'm asking all you experts out there, what do you NEED when you first bring that baby home?

Is it True?!?!?

It's True!
That's right, we are signed up and RSVP'd for our adoption classes! They are just a week away! Woohoo!
I never thought I'd be so excited for 20 hours of class in a two day period. 9-9 on Friday and 9-5 on Saturday. There will be caseworkers and birthparents and all sorts of people there ready to help us be the best adoptive parents we can be. I'm most excited to hear birthparents tell their stories and talk about how they feel. I've read a couple of birthmother blogs and I always come away from them thinking about something I'd never considered before. I want to better understand the emotions and feelings of a birthparent so that I can be appropriately empathetic rather than ignorantly offensive.
Next Wednesday we have another visit with our caseworker as well. We'll be going over our final documentation and making sure everything is in order to go online as soon as we finish the class. Again I say, Woohoo!

Actively Inactive

We have a confession. And by a confession I mean we have 3 confessions. We haven't been quite as inactive as you may have thought. We just wanted to find out which of you were true followers of the blog by not writing for 3 or 4 weeks. So if you are reading this, Congratulations! You passed! (yes, even those of you who have notifications e-mailed to you).
As a reward, you get the confessions AND the information! Not to mention more exclamation points than I've ever used in such a small amount of writing!!!!!

Confession #1: Michigan
In November (exactly one month after feeling prompted to adopt) we received an e-mail about a sick little baby boy in Michigan who needed a family willing to adopt him. Carrie and I haven't put any restrictions on our adoption (e.g. looking for a healthy baby boy with big ears and brown hair with at least two cowlicks...no tiny ears accepted may consider single cowlick children) because we want a chance to be led by the spirit for any possible adoption. Even if it is a hard one like a baby boy who might only have a year to live.
We didn't have much time to decide, but thanks to instant messaging and prayer we decided to do what was necessary to get a profile sent to the birthparents. I took the rest of the day off and as I was driving home I did a little soul searching. Was I really ready to adopt? Was I really willing to adopt a sick little boy? The answer to both came back as a resounding yes (though, really, who is ever READY?). I got home, started a fire, and began writing a birthparent letter and putting together a picture collage (which later morphed into the title block for our blog!). We sent it off and never heard anything back, but I was especially grateful for the whole rubber-meets-the-road thought process that has helped me ever since to truly know that we can do this no matter how daunting it seems at times.

Confession #2: Provo
We got another e-mail in December about another special needs baby boy. Carrie and I both spent the rest of the day learning about the details of his condition and what would be required of us to care for him. We wrote another birthparent letter, but when we finished it, neither of us felt right about sending it. The birthparent had a list of "requirements" and let me tell you, we were dead ringers for every single point, but it just didn't feel right.

Confession #3: Ogden
Carrie called to tell the agency that we wouldn't be submitting any paperwork for the Provo baby and the agency director told her about a little girl in Ogden who was just a few days old and had been born to a mother who had done crack the entire pregnancy. Our hearts went out to this little girl who had already overcome incredible odds, including being stillborn. On Christmas Eve I left work early (in spite of being in the middle of some really cool experiments!) to pick Carrie up and drive to McKay Dee Hospital to visit with the little baby girl with the big question mark for a future. For about an hour and a half we visited with the baby, her social worker, her caseworker, her nurse, and her doctor. We even took turns holding the precious miracle baby. We left hopeful that our prayers would be answered and we'd be blessed with a real Christmas miracle. We prayed that day and night, and spent a long time talking about all sorts of related topics. The result of all that talking and praying was that Carrie and I grew even more united in our quest to adopt. Amidst the joys of Christmas morning was the sorrow of calling the caseworker to tell her that the precious baby girl who had smiled for us the day before must be someone else's miracle. I hope someday to know the end of this story, because at the time it seemed perfect for us. We are confident though that she was another family's little girl, and out there somewhere, is our own little miracle.

If any of you find him or her, please have the birthparents contact us :o)