<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-502740338298557700</id><updated>2012-02-02T17:26:38.470-08:00</updated><category term='phenomena'/><category term='Head Start'/><category term='Childrens Center'/><category term='Hugs'/><category term='Tina'/><category term='dream'/><category term='birthmom'/><category term='Grand Families'/><category term='baby'/><category term='Tumbelina'/><category term='prayer'/><title type='text'>Our Tumbelina's Adoption</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jeanine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cd-ehZCFYaE/SFdpBG2OMaI/AAAAAAAAANI/i4NNe_fw4Jk/S220/JEanine.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-502740338298557700.post-4190403059797736223</id><published>2009-01-24T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:04:41.641-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Head Start'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phenomena'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthmom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grand Families'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tumbelina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Childrens Center'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Love from a distance #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I did not see this baby girl or her mother again for a long time.&lt;/span&gt;  Occasionally I would hear that the birth mother was in jail, that the baby girl was being cared for in a new home.  Grammie would worry about the baby, and I would also.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Hugs was born, with baby blue eyes and dark brown hair.  I greatly desired for her baby brown hair to stay and not go blond like the rest of the family.  I greatly desired for her baby blue eyes to turn brown over time.  I would watch her eyes closely looking for traces of brown, and watch her hair for proof it was staying dark.  All to no avail, my new baby girl was blond and had blue eyes.  I had all but forgotten why I wanted a dark hair, dark eyed, baby girl.  I had forgotten the dream.  But I still greatly wanted little baby Hugs to have brown hair and brown eyes.  This was not the case.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I cant remember when or why, but several months after the birth of Baby Hugs I remembered the dream.  I again asked, could Grammies granddaughter be the baby of my dream?  The more I remembered of the dream the more I realised that the baby could not be Hugs.  I again felt the despair of having lost a child.  Of not having the child in my care.  Of not knowing where she was and who was taking care of her.  Just like in my dream.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I would pray to the Lord&lt;/span&gt;, how difficult it is to love form a distance, I would rather love with my arms wrapped around this baby girl.  I&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; prayed for this baby girl every time I remembered her.  Please guardian angels guard her and protect her from the world.  Please help her be treated with love and care.  Please protect her from all the possible harms&lt;/span&gt; I could imagine she might be in.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I would eagerly try to love and care for her through prayer from a distance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;At this time I carefully went to Grammie and informed her that if at any time Tumbelina needed a home we would love to provide one for her. &lt;/span&gt; But she needed to know that means we would love to adopt her.  That if Tumbelina needed a home we would love to care for her.  And we would immediately start the legal process of removing her birth mothers rights and pursuing full adoption of Tumbelina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then joy of joy, the news came that the birth mother and Tumbelina were in town.  The mother was in jail again, and she had left Tumbelina with a lady whom she promised could adopt her.   Shortly afterwards the birth mother got out of jail, picked up her little girl, and played mother for a few days.  Once she was overwhelmed she took Tumbelina to a new woman.  This woman was a friend of one of her inmates in jail.  Again the birth mother promised this woman she could adopt Tumbelina, who was at least the third person to receive such a promise.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hated the way this little girl was being passed around from home to home.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I then spoke with Grammie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; and asked her to take over the care of Tumbelina in order to help her have some stability in her life.&lt;/span&gt;  Grammie was concerned because her heath was bad and she did not believe she had the strength to care for the baby.  I told her I would be as much support as possible, if she would just help this baby girl out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Just before her second birthday Tumbelina moved into Grammies home.  Grammie became a determined care giver and did not want much help.  She devoted her time to Tumbelina. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;We were doing a community preschool co-op, Grammie would come as a guest teacher and teach to the kids.  Tumbelina also came and attended the co-op with our children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Shortly after Tumbelina was living at Grammies she and Grammie both got very ill.  It ended up being that Tumbelina had phenomena.  She was admitted at the childrens hospital. &lt;/span&gt; It was so sad to go and see her so little in the hospital bed all alone.  My mother bear instincts kicked in.  I did not want her there alone in the big scary place.  I questioned Grammie, she was sick also, and needed to stay home and rest as much as possible.  Oh how I ached to be at the hospital every moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The birth mother had just gotten out of jail.  She called and got the information to Tumbelinas room and planned to go that day, and visit her.  I called and found out she did not go that day.  The next day we went up to visit her, she was so scared, quiet and alone.  I cried.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again the birth mother called and asked for my dads number so he could give her a ride to the hospital.  She went to the hospital, and brought with her all her luggage and belongings. My dad went in with her and gave Tumbelina a blessing, at my request.  The birth mother spent part of that day up with Tumbelina.  But she did not stay the night, by that night she had left to go and visit friends.  I went up the next day.  Again, there Tumbelina was, scared, and closed off.  I tried to get her to interact with me and play with my kids, but she was drawn in and barely interacted with us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hospital asked the birth mother to get her stuff out of Tumbelinas room. She showed up for a short visit, picked up her stuff, and left.  Soon afterwards, to end, back in jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cried to my husband.  What could I do for this little girl that needed so much, and had no one else.  I wanted him to take family time off of work so I could live at the hospital with her.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;He watched the kids that night while I went to the hospital to sleep over the night with her.&lt;/span&gt;  The first time in three nights at the hospital she had someone there with her.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jeff could not get family time off of work, she was not family.  I tried to rethink the situation over and over.  But my own children needed me to care for them.  If Tumbelina had been my own child I could ask family members, ward members, friends to rework their whole schedule to watch my kids so I could be at the hospital with her.  But when I started to try to work that out I was told from several people it was not my place.  And Papa told me my kids needed me also, and like it or not, they were my charge, and Tumbelina was not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I resigned myself to daily visits.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Every day, after the first three days, except one Sunday when I was sick, for a month, we went up to see Tumbelina at the hospital.  We would try to stay as long as we could. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; We would try to get her to play with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;  We drew her pictures.  We left her videos.  We took her on walks.  We did everything, we could do, to try to make it easier for her.&lt;/span&gt;  Sometimes we could get her to open up and play with us.  Other times we could not, she would just sit there while we played.  Sometimes she would watch us, other times she would curl up and be closed up in herself, even when we were there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally a social worker was called and had some meetings with Grammie.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;hings finally got better. Tumbelina was released from the hospital.  Tumbelina was enrolled in Head Start.  And Tumbelina started going to The Children's Center for therapy with Grammie.  Grammie joined grand families, and the two of them went to the activities together.  Again Grammie was well and fully engaged into little Tumbelinas life, the energy she gave caring for her was admirable, especially when she still was not very healthy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Tumbelina and my kids played together and went to church together.  She was beginning to become more comfortable with my children.  She bonded real well with Grammie&lt;/span&gt;, and carefully kept a distance from me, always fearful she would be passed off to someone new. Over time this resistance lessened the more she felt safe at Grammies house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jeanine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blue indicates the part of the story I am ready to read to Tumbelina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/502740338298557700-4190403059797736223?l=tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/feeds/4190403059797736223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-from-distance-3.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/4190403059797736223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/4190403059797736223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-from-distance-3.html' title='Love from a distance #3'/><author><name>Jeanine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cd-ehZCFYaE/SFdpBG2OMaI/AAAAAAAAANI/i4NNe_fw4Jk/S220/JEanine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-502740338298557700.post-8847627181134613159</id><published>2009-01-19T19:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T22:15:30.593-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthmom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>#2 New Little Sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Because of the dream I decided I wanted a baby right now.&lt;/span&gt;  But this was all of a sudden, I had not planned properly, I should have planned for such things at least nine months earlier....&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I remembered &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;snippets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; of this dream, little by little, at important times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;At this time all I could remember was that there was a baby girl, behind glass,&lt;/span&gt; in a sterile place, kind of like a fish tank, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;and she wanted to come to earth.  I felt like it was time for us to have another child so this little girl could come to earth and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; love and a body.  Jeff agreed it was about time for Tina to have a sibling. &lt;/span&gt; We had been using Natural Family Planning to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;avoid&lt;/span&gt; getting pregnant, so we now used it to get pregnant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;In month W  all signs seemed to point to the fact that I was pregnant. &lt;/span&gt; Remember I had done natural family planning for my whole married life, I would really notice a change in my regular pattern. I took several tests, all came back negative.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Still for a month and a half I did not have any signs of a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;miscarriage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;, finally one day the miscarriage started.  This was my first.&lt;/span&gt;  From all the medical professionals I was never pregnant, and only had an abnormal cycle.  How strange to have the only abnormal cycle in the one year the one month I tried to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pregnant&lt;/span&gt;, I was not convinced.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;From research on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; I found a place that had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; a Midwife.  Thankfully she was helpful and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;taught&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; me about blighted &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;ovum's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;The pregnancy never was valid. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;From my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;LDS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; view this meant that no spirit was involved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We eagerly tried to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;conceive&lt;/span&gt; again for months X and Y. Finally conceiving in month Z.  Nine months later a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;beautiful baby girl Hugs was born.  She was beautiful with  blond hair and blue eyes.  I was convinced that this was the baby girl of my dream.  I was at ease knowing she had a body, and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Wait... rewind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grammies daughter #2 got out of jail while I was expecting.  She picked up her baby from family (now about 3 months old) and moved in with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Grammie&lt;/span&gt;, her goal was to try and repair her life.  I watched her baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; the day while she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;prosued&lt;/span&gt; a job, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;housing&lt;/span&gt;, and schooling.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;When I watched this baby something strange triggered in me, she looks so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;familiar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;.  "Maybe she just reminds me of her cousin I grew up with.  There seems to be something more... could it be?... the child in my dream... No, I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; expecting that child.  You will see," I told myself, "this child you are expecting will be a girl.  This child will have brown hair," I told myself, "and could even, maybe have brown eyes.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Jeff's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; sister has brown hair and brown eyes (the only one in the family) there is a genetic chance this child could to. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eventually I mentioned to Grammies Daughter #2 that she was having me watch her daughter more and more for social calls, and was not really progressing towards her goals, and that maybe she should focus more on her goals of improvement.  A conversation I came to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;regret&lt;/span&gt;.  Grammies Daughter #2 moved out of state after that, taking her baby girl with her.  Her baby girl soon ended up in ... the relationships get really complicated... Grammies Daughter #2 took the baby to her birth mom, the babies birth grandma, rather then the babies adopted grandma.  Birth Grandma took care of this baby, or other relatives did, while Grammies Daughter #2 went back to jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/502740338298557700-8847627181134613159?l=tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/feeds/8847627181134613159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-baby-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/8847627181134613159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/8847627181134613159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-baby-girl.html' title='#2 New Little Sister'/><author><name>Jeanine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cd-ehZCFYaE/SFdpBG2OMaI/AAAAAAAAANI/i4NNe_fw4Jk/S220/JEanine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-502740338298557700.post-1633142445791988200</id><published>2009-01-19T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T22:11:32.711-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tumbelina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>#1 Dark Haired, Dark Eyed, Baby Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blue indicates the part of the story I am ready to read to Tumbelina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This story starts with a dream.... But not really.  I guess the story starts when I was a little girl....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;When I was a little girl my mother was really good friends with Grammie.  Grammie was taking care of two of her grandchildren and raising them like her own kids. &lt;/span&gt; Unfortunately many of Grammie's grandchildren were adopted out through foster care, but these two, a girl and a boy, Grammie raised. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I grew up with Grammies adopted kids like they were my sister and brother....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;But the story goes back even further then that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Grammie had two&lt;/span&gt; adopted daughters.  Both were removed from their birth mothers care at a young age and adopted to Grammie.  Her two &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;daughters were the same ages as my older sisters.  I saw them on and off at church, and they visited at my home sometimes.  &lt;/span&gt;Grammies&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;adopted daughter #2 is the Tumbelinas birthmom.  Adopted daughter #1 is the mother of the two grandchildren Grammie raised....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;fast forward a little...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Grammie is raising her grandchildren from daughter #1.  Because of health reason Grammies grandchildren lived with me as brother and sister off and on based on Grammies needs.&lt;/span&gt;  I remember the sorrow Grammie and her grandchildren felt whenever Daughter #1 or Daughter #2's had another child was taken by the state.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;fast forward some more....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Call this month month V.  Angel is a young toddler.  I am delivering newspapers in the morning before Jeff leaves to work.  I start having recurring dreams about a dark haired dark eyed baby girl.  These dreams repeat over and over again.  At the end of each dream I find my longing for this girl increases more and more.  Finally one day I wake up, in tears, my arms and heart aching to hold this little baby girl.  I got up and delivered my newspappers while I pondered the dream.  This was the last dream....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;An angel came to me and said "where is your baby?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;  Because I had been having these dreams of this dark haired dark eyed baby girl, I suspected the angel meant her.  "My baby?" I asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Do you know your babies name?" the angel asked.  I was too ashamed to even answer that I did not.  The angel urged me to find my baby.  He said that she needed me, and I needed to find her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I put Tina (my first daughter) in a wagon and started looking for my dark haired baby.  I looked a long time, all the time getting more and more worried that I could not find her.  All the time feeling more and more silly for not knowing I had a baby, for not knowing where my baby was, for not even knowing her name.  This time lengthened and went on until I was almost in a state of panic. I felt like years had passed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Then I saw her, behind glass, in a sterile room, all alone, looking sad.  My young dark haired dark eyed girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Several workers in white, or angels in white brought her to me.  The first angel carrying her stepped forward. "Here is your daughter" he said "Her name is Tumbelina.  (Her real name is not being used on this blog for privacy) She wanted to come to earth so she could experience having a body.  But mostly she wanted to come to earth so she could feel your love.  Give her lots of love."  Then Angel then handed me a dark haired dark eyed little girl...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I was right, years had passed.  Oh why did so much time pass without me being there for her.  I hugged her tightly and vowed silently to make up for the lost time.  With tears streaming down my face I looked up and saw I was surrounded by smiling family members and friends.  My husband was resting his hand supportingly on my shoulder and our children were standing around us.  Holding my little girl, me and my little family walked away slowly....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/502740338298557700-1633142445791988200?l=tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/feeds/1633142445791988200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/dark-haired-dark-eyed-baby-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/1633142445791988200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/502740338298557700/posts/default/1633142445791988200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbelinasadoption.blogspot.com/2009/01/dark-haired-dark-eyed-baby-girl.html' title='#1 Dark Haired, Dark Eyed, Baby Girl'/><author><name>Jeanine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cd-ehZCFYaE/SFdpBG2OMaI/AAAAAAAAANI/i4NNe_fw4Jk/S220/JEanine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
