DYFS Helps Journalist Become a Mom

I found a wonderful first-person account from a former reporter who adopted a baby through DFYS. We usually only hear the horror stories about our state's child welfare system, but there are happy tales to be told. This is certainly one of them.

My experience with DYFS didn't work out so well, but that was nearly three years ago. A lot has changed within the agency since then for the better, so I hear.

For those considering foster parenting or anyone who cannot afford a private adoption agency, please read this single mom's story on the Casey Journalism Center on Children and Families Web site.

If I wasn't in the process (and already made a hefty, non-refundable deposit) of a second adoption with the same private agency that gave me my son, I just might be persuaded to give DYFS another try. Who knows, maybe when we're ready for No. 3.....

Here's the link:
http://www.journalismcenter.org/jcommunity/articles/Quigley1217.htm

Christmas, A Day Later

Today felt more like a holiday than Christmas Day. There was no rushing around, no cooking, no cleaning, no relatives to entertain. Hendrick and I stayed in our jammies all day and played with his new toys.

I went to bed feeling miserable last night. For the first time in his little life, Hendrick understood what Christmas was about. (OK, just the presents part of the celebration. He still doesn't get the Savior-is-born concept. In fact, he used his Fisher Price manger to park his Hot Wheels.)

All he wanted to do was play with his new toys, but momma had little time for fun on Christmas morning. I kept watching the clock, knowing that a houseful of hungry relatives were on their way.

Does the hostess really ever enjoy a holiday? (My grandmothers made it look so effortless. Did I really think those turkeys flew into the oven and baked themselves when I was a kid?!)

My husband was so happy that Christmas would be celebrated at our house this year so Hendrick could stay home and play with his toys. The trouble was, everyone but me got to relax and play with him.

Hendrick had a blast, despite my lack of attention. We thought he was going to explode with excitement when Uncle Peter gave him a pint-size acoustic guitar. But then my parents wheeled in a battery powered riding car that goes about 2 miles an hour and he raced out the door with it. We barely had a chance to put his coat and hat on.

During dinner he sat on the kitchen floor, wearing his newly acquired lumber-jack hat from Peter's girlfriend, and he serenaded the family with that guitar. I wanted to crawl on the floor next to him, but I was worried there wasn't enough grated cheese on the table for the manicotti.

Mothers really wear themselves down around the holidays, don't they? I have been terribly sick for days, but Christmas waits for no woman to stop sniffling.

I hate to say that I'm glad the holidays are over, but it is a relief. Now, I can finally recuperate and give my son my full attention again.

Tonight I will definitely sleep better. Hendrick and I played all day. When John came home from work, we heated up leftovers and then sat on the living room floor and formed a little band with our instruments. We sang until our hearts were content.

A Christmas Message

My husband recently posted on our adoption agency's forum his feelings on fatherhood and the special role Joseph played in the Christmas miracle. I want to share this with my readers because I am so proud of John, who is also a righteous man.

This Christmas, I won't be looking under the tree to see what kinds of gifts I possess. All I have to do is look on the other end of the couch and see the joy in my husband's face as he watches his only son open his presents. What greater gift could I want than a good man to help raise our son?

Merry Christmas, my friends.

As posted on the Abrazo Adoption Associates forum:

Every Christmas since I became a father, I've spent some time thinking about Joseph. Perhaps it's because he "adopted" Jesus, as I adopted Hendrick. Perhaps it's because he's a bit of a mystery, despite his central place in the Christmas miracle.

Most likely, it's because I have an affinity for the forgotten. And, let's face it, that's what Joseph is. In the hymns we sing, in the stories and poems we read, we learn of gentle Mary, the virgin mother, and her undeniable love for God and a tiny baby who would become the King of Kings. But what of Joseph?

I've been reading Hendrick a book on the Christmas story. The writers of the book mention the wise men, the shepherds and Mary. They mention the donkey and the ox and the Christmas star. But Joseph? Not a word.

And why not talk about Joseph? God may have been Jesus' "biological" parent, but it was Joseph, the father, who taught Jesus the skills of a carpenter. It was Joseph, the father, who spirited his family to Egypt to save them from the wrath of Herod. It was Joseph, the father, who gathered the family to go to temple.

The Bible tells us that Joseph was a man of God, and indeed he did right by Mary, his betrothed. And from all we know, he did right by our Lord and Savior.

Mothers so often are the central figures in our culture. Athletes give shout-outs to their moms on national television. Moms are the providers, nurturers and healers of every hurt. Whenever we see a father, he is usually bemused, sometimes besotted and often inconsequential.

But, if we read it carefully enough, the Bible tells us just how important a father is. Our Savior's earthly father was needed and was necessary. If we pay attention, we'll know that Joseph was not inconsequential at all. He provided an environment in which Jesus could fulfill His promise. In essence, this adoptive father also helped to give us the Lamb who would take away the sins of the world.

As Hendrick grows, I will read him the story of Luke. And he will learn that on the night our Savior was born, the angels sang, the shepherds stood in awe and Mary cradled the Son in her arms, pondering in her heart all that was said. But I will tell our son one more thing: That beside Mary stood a righteous man, a man equally chosen by God to provide a strong family for our growing Lord. I will teach our son that, even as Mary loved her little child, Joseph loved Him, too.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.

John

Holiday Hassles

Despite our best intentions to steer clear of the malls and take it slow during the Christmas season, many new moms still over-extend themselves during the holiday chaos.

My attempts at hassle-free holiday shopping turn into extra-strength Advil headaches.

I was sure I got it right this time when I purchased more than $200 worth of gift cards that supposedly work like traditional credit cards. My bank offers them free to its customers, so I stocked up with visions of home-made sugar cookies dancing in my head. (Did you think I was just going to sit around and drink egg nog with all my "free time"?)

The trouble, I recently learned, is that the cards aren't so easy to use. You have to register them and then check the balance online or by phone to make sure you don't spend more than the remaining amount. Don't think you can, say, buy a $50 blouse using your remaining $20 and pay the rest in cash. As my mother-in-law found out, the card will be rejected.

"That card you got me doesn't work," she announced at our last family gathering.

When I got home, I read the instructions for the cards I hadn't doled out yet. I finally decided to spend them myself on more traditional gift cards and spare my loved ones any grief.

It's a good thing I did. The cards were even more trouble than I could have possibly imagined!

I tried to use one at a new restaurant at the Freehold Raceway Mall to purchase a gift certificate for my parents. The clerk slipped the card through the scanner several times to no avail. "It was declined," she said, raising her voice above the loud music.

A man waiting next in line was giving me the evil eye.

We tried another card and then the original card again. Even the manager got into the act, calling the credit card company and trying to remedy the problem. Twenty minutes later, he handed me back the cards and he told me that he had to fax the card's serial number to the company. Apparently, one of the cards lost half of its value during our failed attempts and that was the only was to regain the full amount.

"You should be able to use this card in an hour," he said, wearily.

I paid for the gift certificate in cash, and promised to return the unused cards to the bank the next day.

Luckily, my son was home napping while I was trying to unload these gifts of aggravation.

This Christmas season, be good to yourself - and your family. Give people what they really want: cold, hard cash.

U.S. Signs Adoption Treaty

The United States joined Wednesday an international treaty on adoption, which federal officials and adoption advocates say is good news for adoptive parents, birth parents and the children, according to a CNN report.

This is an important story to read if you are considering an international adoption. The treaty is expected to help prevent birth parents from being offered money in exchange for their child, and calls for proper and informed consent from the "family of origin."

These changes may result in a delay in receiving a child - an unfortunate consequence for those who feel they have waited long enough to start a family. Knowing that your adopted son or daughter was relinquished freely by his or her birth mother, however, should be worth the wait.

Before my husband and I decided on a domestic adoption, we checked out several agencies that handle international adoption. We reviewed their costs, requirements and estimated waiting periods as well as how much information we could expect to learn about the birth parents. We weren't impressed.

Adoption is a complicated business, and there is much uncertainty along the way - even in an open adoption such as ours. It is my hope that this treaty will bring more clarity to all parties involved and eliminate some of the unscrupulous activity that has become all too common.

Here's the link to the story, which includes a link to the full text of the treaty:
http://edition.cnn.com/2007/US/12/12/international.adoptions/

Snuggle Time

One of the most wonderful transitions from infant to toddler is a child's ability to show affection.


Perhaps the most pleasant reaction you can expect from an infant is a smile or a giggle or a finger squeeze. It is wonderful when they catch your gaze, but they usually don't hold it for long. Their primal needs, like comfort and hunger, seem to take precedent over any emotional ones. For parents who are expending every ounce of energy into their newborns, it doesn't feel like much of a return on your investment.


Maybe that's one of the reasons moms sometimes feel so lonely and depressed while they are raising babies.

Then comes the toddler stage. For my son, it started out with temper tantrums and random acts of violence: think pinching, biting and hitting whenever he didn't get his way.


I started to wonder if I was raising the next class bully, someone void of real compassion.

Then, just when I thought he was softening up I realized my boy instinctively knew how to be manipulative. His beautiful smile can light up a room, and he knows exactly when to flash his little pearly whites. He offers a hug and a kiss when he's had enough time-out, and he makes a funny face when he wants to get out of a sticky situation.

Again, I was worried. My 2-year-old son knows how to exhibit disingenuous displays of affection to get himself out of trouble. Yikes!


Parents, of course, worry too much for no good reason.

Recently, Hendrick and I have developed a routine after each bath. I wrap him in a big fluffy towel as I sit on the closed toilet seat. He then climbs into my lap and snuggles me with his damp arms and legs. I hold him tightly and kiss his fuzzy wet head until he is dry.

It is the only time of the day when he sits perfectly still without a form of entertainment in front of his face. He just seems happy in the moment.


Children eventually learn to love genuinely. You just have to keep showing them.

High Flying Fun at the Airport

Nobody likes to hang around an airport waiting for his or her sure-to-be-delayed flight, especially parents who know their mischievous little ones can easily find trouble.

My son takes this opportunity to jump on large pieces of rolling luggage as some weary traveler whizzes by or, if he's quick enough, onto one of those supersized golf carts that transport the elderly and infirm. He also uses this time to learn about electronic gadgets. Nobody with an iPod or portable DVD can sit anywhere near us without having to give my boy a tutorial. I cringe when I see a businessman working on a report and Hendrick rushing over to press his sticky fingers on the keyboard.

Those days are over, thanks to a novel concept at several airports.

On our way to Florida yesterday to visit Grandma and Grandpa Schoonejongen, we discovered a playground at Philadelphia International Airport - right in the terminal where we had to wait for our flight. All I can say is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. (And, of course, what took you so long? But I'm trying to stay positive.)

Hendrick's spirits were flying high as he took the controls of the jet plane, sat in an old-styled propeller plane and climbed up to the control tower and came back down the slide.

John and I were able to calmly eat our lunch as we watched him play with two little girls.

When we arrived in Tampa, I noticed another airplane-themed playground outside the gate. It looked brand new, but we didn't stop to check it out.

Having to show up for a flight two hours early used to be a real headache. The playgrounds at least made the wait tolerable.

Unadulterated Joy

You should have seen my boy at the UNICO Christmas party on Saturday. He was out-of-his-mind excited. Dancing. Singing. Squealing with delight over a hair dryer-like gadget that blew toilet paper around the room. It's the type of moment that makes you forget all the hardships of parenting and fills your heart with a joyful holiday spirit.

We were able to attend this function, thrown by the Bayonne chapter of the Italian-American service organization, because my cousin's husband is a member and a generous relative bought our tickets. The group seemed to spare no expense on the entertainment and the food, and the kids loved every second of it.

While I indulged at the buffet table - think large dishes of provolone, salami and mini pizzas followed by trays of macaroni, chicken and sausage - my son and his cousins played games, got their faces painted and danced the Hokey Pokey. (Hendrick was too stimulated to sit down and eat so I, uh, ate enough for the both of us.)

To top it off, Santa arrived and handed the children a large present suited to their age and gender. Hendrick and the other toddler boys were given a Home Depot construction vehicle, the kind they could ride on and maneuver the bucket. It even came with a plastic hard hat.

They couldn't wait until they got home to open their presents. The poor waiters had to dodge bright orange trucks while the boys speed around the open floor plan.

I started to feel a twinge guilty about all this prosperity until I caught a glimpse of the other table filled with gifts. Each family who came to the party brought a cheerfully wrapped gift for an underprivileged child in town.

It's great to spoil our children. But it's even better to teach them to share our blessings and allow other kids to experience that same feeling of unadulterated joy.