Wednesday, August 21, 2013


For us adoption has meant offering the same prayer over and over again: Please let our children's birth parents know when they have found us.  

Muriel had a lot of reasons for meeting us.  She liked our profile, loved the idea of her baby having cute little Eden as a big sister, thought Kris had the perfect "Jim Carey" face (we're still a little puzzled by that one, but it works!), and liked Sam's taste in music.  She felt like we would be a good family for her baby.  

When we met Muriel, the caseworkers had already told us that she wanted to keep the baby's gender a secret until she felt like it was the right time to tell us.  So we went through a whole two hour meeting just talking about ourselves, and only occasionally talking about "the baby."  At one point Muriel asked us if we liked The Beatles.  I answered that I consider "Hey Jude" to be one of the best tunes ever written.  We could tell right away that my answer had touched a nerve, but we didn't know why.

At the very end of our visit, Kris worked up the gumption to ask Muriel when we could know her baby's gender.  After a lot of giggling and whispering with her friend, she countered with a question of her own: What do you think of the name Jude?

It was only after our little guy was born that we learned how during the five and a half months when Muriel thought she was going to parent her baby boy all by herself, Jude was the name she whispered to him in the dark, rubbing her swelling belly and worrying herself sick over how to do this thing she was too young to do for this little person she loved so much.  When I fingered "Hey Jude" as a a song of all songs, it was a sort of sign to her that she'd found her boy's family.  It was an answer to all of our prayers.  

By no means did we have to stick with the name Jude, but it just felt right.  For one thing, it meant he would have the same initials as his dad and grandfather.  On another level, in the Catholic tradition Jude is the patron saint of lost causes, and there was certainly a time when the idea that we would ever have a son seemed like the most lost of all causes.  I love it too that Jude's adoption into our family took "a sad song and made it better." Better for Muriel, better for Jude, better for us.  

Today I spent some time taking pictures of this nearly 3 month old boy.  Isn't he cute?  He grew almost four pounds in the last month!  You might notice that the record on top is a single from the song...you guessed it..."Hey Jude"!  I picked it up off of a hippie on a street corner like ten years ago and it  hung on my wall for a long time.  Some things are just meant to be!

Monday, August 12, 2013

Our First House

Well, here it is.  We bought her high and sold her low (love that housing market bubble!), but we lived there for four years and were happy.  It's this house where Eden came home from the hospital.  It's this house where she learned to smile and roll over and walk and talk.  I love it for those facts alone.  
I love the roof we almost died on, and the roses we planted for each of my dead grandparents.

I love the yard and garden where our Robinson Ranch rhubarb will grow forever.

I love the kitchen where I made so many meals for so many family gatherings meant for a larger house.

I even love the nursery where Eden puked on me at least thrice daily. Perhaps especially that room.

I miss our basement bedroom where the temperature never climbed above 68 degrees...perfect for snuggling.

And I'm thankful for the guest bedroom where the Bell Hotel housed so many visitors. 

I miss our dear back fence neighbors, the Westons, and their orchard of eternal hope and produce. 

We are happy where we are now and look forward to adventures yet to come.  But we'll always be thankful for our first little home.  Farewell, Ogden House!  You were worth every penny of our lost ten grand (especially since most of that came from Obama).