Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

Oh Mamas, The Ways In Which We’re Reborn

When I think about the day I was born, I feel sad for then-me and for the woman who gave birth to me. She must have been afraid and worried about who would raise me. She’d agreed, after all, to the loving of me, the carrying of me, and to the giving away of me. She was 18 and ashamed.

Oh Mamas, the ways in which we’re reborn.

“It’s the right thing to do.”

I know she was told that, over and over. That she believed it enough to do so. That they were all just right enough.

When I think about the day I was born into my forever family, I wonder about the eight days between her and them. Where I spent them. Where they spent those days. Did my birth mom know a family had been chosen? Did my forever-parents know that I was waiting for them? Was there a nurse with me then, and was she kind or terrible?

I wonder at my birth-mother’s grief and embarrassment and leaking boobs-without-a-baby, and I wonder at my family’s hope and excitement. I wonder at the people who had me between and whether or not my life today is affected by having wanted breastfeeding, or not really knowing who my mother was.


“This is what I looked like when I was a baby,” my son tells his friends as they run upstairs. They pause at a group of photos, look, giggle, and run on while he continues to explain. “See? I was bald!” He laughs, realizes that his friends are in his room without him and leaves memory lane to join them in destroying Lego creations and games of who can jump the furthest from the bed. Their jumps rattle the walls above me. His wanting to connect with himself as a baby and to share then-him with friends rattles me as much.

Oh mamas, we

He’ll be seven years old in July, and has only shown interest in who he was as a baby over the past year or so. He doesn’t question how Daddy got him into my belly, or how he got out, although one day, he asked whether it hurt when he came out.

“Well, yes,” I said. “But I was okay, and so were you.”
That was enough for him. It was enough for me.


I remember the day that I became a mother, and how afraid I was. How proud I was. I was reborn. I remember the hours of wonder and loneliness.

My son is seven, and I see myself reborn each day that my son ages. We are reborn when we have kids.
I watch him snuggling, crawling into my bed, pulling away, defining himself and then, in private when his friends are gone, asking about being a baby. “Carry me upstairs,” he asks and I wish I could but he’s heavy now and no longer fits on my hip.  

I wish he still fit on my hip, the way that other six-year-olds do. He’s big for his age. He’s so young for his age.

I suppose that each of us has been born, or re-born, multiple times in our lives. The day we move across country for a job, and then quit it when we have a baby. Or, the day that we put that baby in daycare to continue the us-ness we crave.

We’re reborn as we hold a dying dog on our lap, and watch his ear – the one we’ve whispered into, stroked and kissed for 12 years turn from pink and alive to white, and not.

Do you ever think about how often weWe’re born on the brave days – the ones on our third date when we dare to ask whether he’s willing to have another baby. At advanced maternal age.

We’re reborn when he says yes, and when we do, too.


We’re each reborn over and over again, and I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That lessons on looking a special needs mama in the eyes, that not not-seeing her kid with his or her delays… Texting the mama from the volunteer group or the playground to piece together the puzzle of what really happened. We’re reborn, and given new perspective, and life, and another way to see.

We’re reborn in knowing that sometimes, it’s okay to watch Netflix and escape. Other times, it’s the day we roar at school and say we’re going to do the whatever it takes to make first-graders not bully one another. That we’ll get to the bottom of a story even when that story sucks and we’re not even sure what’s true about it.


We’re reborn each time that we realize that what we do in the next five minutes, or the next day or week matters. Let’s do something amazing.


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Finish the sentence Friday writing prompt

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post and the sentence is “The day I was born (re-born) was….”
Hosts are me (Kristi from
and this week’s sentence thinker-upper, Corinne Rodrigues of


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  • Dana - I like the way you look at being reborn – just something that happens as we wake up each day and do new things. Take risks. Look at things differently. It’s such a hopeful approach to life, I think.May 12, 2016 – 10:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I don’t always remember to have a hopeful approach but thanks, Dana! Here’s to taking risks and looking at everything differently.May 13, 2016 – 8:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Marcia @Menopausalmom - I love the idea of being reborn through the big things AND the little moments in life. Beautiful post as always, Kristi!May 12, 2016 – 11:20 pmReplyCancel

  • deirdre - I was adopted too. I’ve tossed around the idea of finding my birth mother so many times the last few years. I have so many questions and I want to thank her. I love the idea of being reborn throughout our lives. I’m reborn daily I think. I love this post so much. I think being adopted makes us even more similar than ever. We seem to have such similar views on things! It always cracks me up!May 13, 2016 – 12:43 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Deirdre, I commented on your post too but I did actually find my birth mom and am so glad that I did. Please feel free to IM me if you’d like to talk about it (I should so write a post about it!!!). We do have way similar views on things and I love it!May 13, 2016 – 9:20 pmReplyCancel

  • Corinne Rodrigues - Hugs, Kristi. Life is full of ‘what-if’ moments, but there’s so many things about childhood over which we have no control. What we do have control over is how we transform that pain – and allow ourselves to be reborn over and again.
    I so enjoyed hosting this week’s #FTSF with you. Thanks for the opportunity.May 13, 2016 – 1:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m so glad that you co-hosted with me this week, Corinne, and thank you for your insightful and amazing sentence. I didn’t know where I was going with this and wrote it at the last minute, but I’m glad it made me think about the fact that we’re reborn so so often. Hourly, at times.May 13, 2016 – 9:23 pmReplyCancel

  • Joshua - Life is a series of moments punctuated by those where we realize we have just been reborn or so it seems to me.May 13, 2016 – 1:36 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Aw, all sorts of feels here and am now remembering both my girls and the early baby years. I was most definitely reborn after both of them, but can’t believe how long ago that truly was. Still each day with my girls brings new adventures and ways to feel reborn I suppose.May 13, 2016 – 2:08 amReplyCancel

  • Dana Dominey Campbell - Oh, I love this SO much! Especially about the part where your son is playing with friends in your home. When THAT happens, isn’t it just the best?!? For me, when Christian didn’t talk until nearly 4, I thought he would never have true friends, go to prom, have a roommate, get married… Now he has three girls texting him – that he didn’t initiate. It’s all totally tame… they text about Minecraft, Rick Rordan books (“Lightning Thief,” author), super hero movies and the like. I told him he can’t date until he is 21 and I get to choose his wife and he is getting sarcastic and saying…”yeah, right.” No worries about where his interests will lay later on. I do miss the days of having him on my hip holding on. But, today the days are so much sweeter knowing that I can totally breathe and now that he’s not only going to be ok, but is thriving… staring in community theater and doing Improv of all things… (Remember he didn’t speak until nearly 4yrs old!) So, who knew! I love your writing SO, so much. It was great to write back and forth with you about two months ago about your son’s progress. You are the best Mom to him. Never forget that! Love, Dana in Oregon.May 13, 2016 – 2:20 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You are the best comment leaver EVER DANA!! Thank you. I replied on FB but I so very hope that you know how much your stories and memories have inspired me to know that what Tucker achieves is so unknown still. I love love love that he plays with friends now. It wasn’t always the case, for sure. I so appreciate you sharing your son’s progress and WOW that he’s in theater and improv (improv takes some quick talking!!!!!). YOU are amazing and I have no doubt that so much of your sons progress is because he has the best Mom to HIM!! And thank you. Truly. <3May 13, 2016 – 9:29 pmReplyCancel

      • Dana Dominey Campbell - Thank you… I love to write, so really need to jump on into this, “Finish the sentence Friday,” thang… I finally have some free time (imagine that!) Hope to meet you somewhere day if you come to the west coast! – DanaMay 15, 2016 – 3:16 amReplyCancel

        • Kristi Campbell - Oh please do jump on this!!! Do you blog now because I think you don’t based on what we said before BUT I’d love to read what you write (and if you do and I already know this, please know my brain is cheese and I never remember in real life names with blog names!!!). So hope to meet you too!May 16, 2016 – 12:02 amReplyCancel

          • Dana Dominey Campbell - I have contemplated writing an autobiography… narcissist, self-involved parents, alcoholic dad, country-Club, loving, rated tennis playing, social climber mom. I survived being un-diagnosed bi-polar until my 30s, three fiances, got married… worked at Enron prior to getting pregnant, horrendous go-round being a Mary Kay Cosmetics team leader, bankruptcy, relocation, autism… son who did not speak until nearly 4, created an official Autism non-profit, ran it single-handedly for 4yrs… it musjhroomed, and I had to shut it down or probably lose my marriage…death of my mom at 42 (thank gawd), step Dad turned a-hole… son finding success, me becoming stable and breathing, hmm what else…. 😉May 16, 2016 – 2:37 am

        • Kristi Campbell - Dana, WOW, woman. You have great material. I really hope you will write an autobiography – I promise that I’ll read it (and share it here as well). Wow. xoxoMay 16, 2016 – 5:19 pmReplyCancel

          • Dana Dominey Campbell - Ready to get started in the next couple off months.May 16, 2016 – 5:52 pm

  • JT Walters - Kristi, all straight males are trying to find their way back into the womb. It is their mission in life.

    Rebirths…parents divorce, first job, graduations, pregnancy, several hurricanes, birth, NICU, first rare disease diagnosis, Mother’s end stage cancer care and then dropping dead in front of the Christmas tree I front of Alex and the hen my family refusing to allow us to attend the funeral b caus it was embarrassing to have an autistic family member, helping Alex through his grief of losing his Nana and entire family, every fight over school work, the first time I took Alex flying, the day we (you and I) met, and through every trial…I am reborn. In all the darkness and adversity Alex faces, every time I find the light and negotiate the adversity, I am born again because I am assured there always is light.

    Your blog is a beacon in those dark times.

    You my friend are the light we all seek..a catalyst for rebirth. Thank you for writing.May 13, 2016 – 2:44 amReplyCancel

  • Frances Best Stanfield - As usual, another heartfelt, beautiful post. I never thought about it but you are exactly right. We are reborn at every step of our children’s life from birth to, for me, age 29 and counting. Thanks yet again for the pouring out of love and truth!!!

    FrancesMay 13, 2016 – 4:19 amReplyCancel

  • Clare Hylin - I love the thought of being reborn over and over. That’s so true. I’m being reborn everyday. It’s what keeps me young-ish! I was adopted too. I think of those days in between and how she must have felt. I think about whether she was able to hold me or not. I think she was about 18 too. I have wanted to find her but then I don’t. It’s strange. Lately, I think I do again.May 13, 2016 – 4:36 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I love this story. Your writing always takes me so many places. He was such a cute baldy too! I love the examples. We are indeed reborn for each mommy milestone and the times we have to roar at school when we didn’t know we had it in us.May 13, 2016 – 6:38 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - That I can roar at school is something I’d never have known I could do. I was so so shy (and still am when it comes to meeting moms and stuff) but man, at school? I’m like “ok let’s talk about this” all tough and stuff. That I cry thinking about other stuff doesn’t count 😉May 13, 2016 – 9:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @TheGoldenSpoons - Love this idea of us being reborn – so true, so hopeful. I get the wondering about the space between your adoption and your birth. My husband was adopted at 6 weeks old – I have wondered about those 6 weeks & I know he has, too.May 13, 2016 – 9:12 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Oh wow, Lisa. I didn’t realize your husband was adopted too, or, if I did, I’d forgotten. You know what’s funny? I never really thought much about those 8 days until once my dad was dating this lady who did this weird age regression thing with like muscle weakness??? It was a long time ago. Anyway, she said something bad happened to me during those 8 days (as if a baby alone with no boobies isn’t bad enough) and while it’s probably mumbo jumbo, I still wonder.May 13, 2016 – 9:33 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I think it’s true – we’re reborn every day. Maybe every minute, really.
    Des was watching a baby video of himself yesterday. Usually he knows himself in photos but seemed confused by this. I wonder how many times he’s been reborn since that video!May 13, 2016 – 10:28 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw! Aw to Des watching a baby video of himself. Tucker loves watching those and has been reborn over and over.May 13, 2016 – 9:34 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb - Oh you with the making me cry every time!! XoxoMay 13, 2016 – 10:35 amReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Wow Kristi. You reveal so much about yourself in these posts. That is most of what keeps me coming back since I first discovered them. I had no idea you were adopted. Well, of course, why would I have?
    We are reborn in so many ways. I have my ability to write again and I can’t wait to get to writing my own rebirth story for this week’s link up. Beautiful words you’ve written here.May 13, 2016 – 12:29 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Hey Kerry, thank you. I feel doubly honored that you said that in this one because I had to write it so quickly and felt like I left it unfinished… and yeah, I was adopted. I should write a post about it. And please do write about your own rebirth and link it up. I’d love to read it.May 13, 2016 – 10:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Christine Carter - Ah… you pulled me in, like you always do- with you beautiful reflections, my friend. I never looked at it this way, this rebirth over and over again. You’re right. Each moment we are given in this life, is much like rebirth in awareness and miracles before us. SO many moments designed and delivered into our world as moms, as women, and human beings- all the complexities that create the masterpiece we call life.

    Thank you for this. It was truly beautiful and inspiring and thought provoking as always. <3May 13, 2016 – 1:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - This broke my heart Kristi. What did happen in those eight days? Where were you, and why did it take so long? You don’t have to answer now…well chat in two weeks!!!!May 13, 2016 – 6:47 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Hey Sweets. I have no idea what happened in those 8 days, and I guess it didn’t really take that long considering the times. The only reason I think about it is because my dad dated a woman once who did age regression and said that something bad happened during that time which may be true or maybe not??? But still, I wonder!!! Can’t wait to see you!May 15, 2016 – 11:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Lola Marguerita - It is akin to emerging from a cocoon into a new world.May 14, 2016 – 2:45 amReplyCancel

  • Lola Marguerita - It is akin to emerging from a cocoon into a new world.May 14, 2016 – 2:47 amReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - This is beautiful. I love that your son is so interested in sharing his babyhood with his friends, and that his bond with you is so strong. I think it’s wonderful how you have his photos on the walls so that he can be connected in an ‘everyday’ sense to the ‘hims’ of the past, and the people who are and have been important to him.

    My heart hurts about those 8 days of not knowing, but I’m glad your forever family were so wonderful and that in spite of what you missed and what was lost, there was much which was experienced and found, and that it all mixes to make wonderful now-you.May 14, 2016 – 5:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - It’s so true that we can be reborn for so many different things. Turning points I suppose. I think the depth in how you think about yourself during the time before you were physically in the arms of your parents eight days after you were born is so powerful. I think that takes courage to even go there. Thank you once again for sharing such brave thoughts. xoMay 14, 2016 – 6:04 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - They are turning points, I think. In fact, I looked back at a post I did called just that for ideas!!! Thank you so so much for your support and sweet wonderful comments. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate them and you.May 15, 2016 – 11:10 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - How did I not know this about you and your birth/forever family??? Wow.
    Beautiful post – especially that last line. My favorite.May 15, 2016 – 2:21 amReplyCancel

  • Louise - This is so beautiful. We ARE reborn so many times in our lives – thank you for putting your story and words behind that sentiment to really explain it.

    I agree we’re reborn in our children – and, like you say, in a million other ways as we grow and change and experience life.May 15, 2016 – 10:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Louise, thank YOU. We are so reborn over and over… here’s to knowing when it matters and thank you again.May 15, 2016 – 11:12 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana Dominey Campbell - Blogdom… here I come! I’ll keep you posted. 😉May 16, 2016 – 2:40 amReplyCancel

  • linda Atwell - Out One Ear - Yep. I think we have many, many rebirths over our years. Every time we have a new interest. Sometimes I think of them as the different seasons of our life, how in one season something is super important and then the next season arrives and what was important in the last season doesn’t seem quite so important now. Sometimes I wonder, how can that be? How can I be so entranced with something and think it is the one and only or all. Then time passes and another passion takes its place. So I know this is related to kids, our kids, but I think rebirths happen with them and with us in so many ways. I love rebirths. They are exciting and keep us feeling alive. I think. Anyway.May 18, 2016 – 7:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think you’re right about having many rebirths, and also yes, to being completely entranced with something and then later bing like OMG really??? Here’s to alive. Feeling it over and over.May 19, 2016 – 10:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Crumpets and Bollocks - It really is the little things that makes us who we are…May 19, 2016 – 10:22 amReplyCancel

  • Deborah Lovel Bryner - <3 bummed that I didn't have it together enough to write a post for this! This has been a tough couple of weeks for me what with tests and doctors and stuff. I loved your post, Kristi! I think we must be joined at the brain somehow...because so often, the things you write are the things that I often cannot admit to myself but which I have thought nonetheless...and it makes accepting those things in my own mind and heart My shrink and I thank you...May 20, 2016 – 1:39 amReplyCancel

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