"It's a LOT of togetherness," I often hear myself saying in conversation when I'm talking about my life as a stay-at-home-mom.
"A LOT of togetherness."
I wouldn't have it any other way.
But, man, is it ever a lot of togetherness. Oy.
Here's the thing that you aren't supposed to say about being a stay-at-home-mom:
Being a stay-at-home-mom is kind of driving me crazy.
Don't get me wrong...I LOVE my daughter. I love love love love love her. I love her like I've never loved anybody. It's an intense, crazy, deep love that makes me ache when I look at her. How did I get so lucky to be the mom of this amazing person??? When I see her wicked smile and her dimple. Omigod...the dimple. It's the cutest dimple EVER. And I hear her laugh. Pure joy. It fills me up. I know that I am the luckiest mom on the planet. Bar none.
Really.
But then she has one of her spectacular meltdowns. Omigod. The meltdowns. Brutal. For both of us.
Or we get done with swimming lessons at 10:00 a.m. on a Wednesday morning. We get ourselves dressed and I look at the clock to see that it is 10:52. Dear God...WHAT am I going to do with this child for another SEVEN HOURS AND EIGHT MINUTES until we have dinner???
Or the day where we have NOTHING on the schedule and she flat out refuses to go to gymnastics open play or Kidz Wurld indoor play center.
And the fact that she stopped napping when she wasn't even two and a half years old. What kid stops napping that young???
"Oh, he naps for at least two hours everyday. Most days it's closer to three," a mom I meet at gymnastics open play tells me. Her kid is four and a half.
Four and a half years old and he naps for THREE HOURS???
In my dreams.
Moms hate naps at first because infants take so many of them which makes it hard to schedule your life. But then as life gets crazier when the kid starts becoming more mobile and active, moms come to appreciate and NEED The Nap. The Nap gives moms a break from the togetherness. You use it to clean the house, have a cup of coffee, sleep, or sometimes just sit and relish the quiet.
When my kiddo officially gives up her nap I feel like I might actually
have a nervous breakdown.
No napping leads to a LOT of togetherness.
Twelve straight hours of togetherness most days.
Without a break.
Here's something that many people don't know about me: I'm an introvert.
You wouldn't know it about me because I am super chatty, I like to meet new people, and I do like to be out and about. I have decent social skills. I'm not a typical introverted introvert. I'm an extroverted introvert.
But I need alone time.
I need it. Crave it. Have to have it.
Serious quality alone time to recharge my batteries.
Alone time where I have an opportunity to be quiet and creative. When I can make art, write, read, and use my brain in a different way than when I'm in mom mode.
But with twelve hours of togetherness with my three and half year-old daughter...there ain't a lot of quality alone time to recharge. I'm pretty much totally exhausted at the end of every day. So my end of the day alone time isn't quality alone time AT ALL. I collapse in a heap on the couch where I watch television as my body twitches and vibrates because I am over-tired and over-stimulated. Watching television doesn't really help much, but in general I have little brain power for anything else at the end of my day.
Here's the other thing you aren't supposed to say about life as a stay-at-home-mom:
Being with a small child for twelve hours a day is a grind.
It is.
Wiping butts, cleaning up crayon on the walls chasing your kid through the library to get her to stop running and yelling, searching for the same lost toy every single day, watching the same episode of Curious George for the 47th time, keeping your kid entertained and clean and fed and engaged every single day, being the primary educator and disciplinarian every single day. It's. A. Grind.
Please, don't get me wrong...there are SO MANY parts of the day that are also TOTALLY AWESOME. I love watching my kid running and jumping and walking the balance beam at gymnastics open play time. And our couch tickle fights are spectacularly fun. Hearing her whoop with excitement when she hears the theme music for her favorite cooking show, The Pioneer Woman. Listening to her tell her hundreds of stories everyday is the stuff that makes life with her the best. Watching the wheels in her brain turn and seeing her learn something new. Completely awesome and amazing.
However, it's a lot.
A lot. A lot. A lot. A lot of work. A lot of togetherness with no break.
And I know...this is MY choice to stay at home with her. Please, no one needs to remind me. I chose this life. I choose this life everyday even when I think I might have a nervous breakdown because of it. I choose to be the person who raises my daughter. I choose the grind. And I am SO LUCKY that I have that choice. That my husband earns enough to keep us in house and home so that I can spend twelve hours a day with our kid. That my husband is OK with me "opting out" of the work force to be a "SAHM." I KNOW that I am lucky.
Really. I do.
But, man, it's still a LOT of togetherness.
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
10 March 2015
03 March 2015
No Comfort
"I DON'T WANT YOU!" my three and a half year-old daughter roars, fists clenched at her sides, body rigid, tears and snot coating her face.
"I DON'T WANT YOU!" she roars again mid-meltdown then jumps up and down screaming at the top of her lungs.
I hardly recognize this enraged little person. 95% of the time my kid is joyful, happy, hilarious, and extremely kind.
But that other 5% of the time.
Meltdowns.
Spectacular, epic, blow-the-roof-off meltdowns.
Filled with rage.
In the midst of these spectacular epic meltdowns my normally super affectionate, loving, huggy girl directs all of her rage at me.
"What can I do for you?" I ask her in my calmest voice. "What can I do for you?"
"NOTHING! GET AWAY FROM ME!" she shrieks, body still rigid, fists still clenched and eyes now closed as if the very sight of me is just too much to bear.
She rejects my attempts to comfort her.
She rejects me with every fiber of her being.
Sometimes her meltdowns last for just a few minutes, but on occasion she can rage for close to an hour. It is so awful to witness her fury and her suffering as huge emotions overtake her.
If I'm honest with myself, it's also extremely painful to have all of that rage directed at me.
It's especially painful because I secretly worry that she rejects me in this way because I'm not her birth mother, K.
Is there some deep part of her that understands that I am not the woman who gave birth to her? Does she subconsciously want K and thus rejects me?
When she screams "I DON'T WANT YOU!" I secretly panic that she will always reject me because somehow I'm not her "real" mother.
I wonder and worry, if K were raising her would Esme just collapse in K's arms and allow herself to be hugged and comforted? Would she let K do that for her when she won't let me? Will she ever let me comfort her through a meltdown?
"I don't want you," Esme says again breathing hard, but she is running out of steam.
"What can I do for you?" I ask again.
"Nothing," she snuffles then walks to the couch where she seizes her beloved purple fleece jacket. She takes her "worry spot" (the bottom front where the zipper comes together) and gently rubs it under her nose. Her preferred method of self-soothing.
I take a step toward her and ask gently, "Can I give you a hug now?"
"Not yet," she says hiccuping, a few tears still rolling down her cheeks.
"OK, I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes."
I walk into the kitchen where I sag against the counter exhausted and hurt, trying and failing to not take it personally. Trying and failing to be confident in my role as Esme's "real" mom.
Wondering and worrying.
A few minutes later I return to the living room to sit down near her on the couch. "Can I give you a hug now?"
She shakes her head, but she moves closer to me and we sit together, not quite touching, in silence for a long time.
"I DON'T WANT YOU!" she roars again mid-meltdown then jumps up and down screaming at the top of her lungs.
I hardly recognize this enraged little person. 95% of the time my kid is joyful, happy, hilarious, and extremely kind.
But that other 5% of the time.
Meltdowns.
Spectacular, epic, blow-the-roof-off meltdowns.
Filled with rage.
In the midst of these spectacular epic meltdowns my normally super affectionate, loving, huggy girl directs all of her rage at me.
"What can I do for you?" I ask her in my calmest voice. "What can I do for you?"
"NOTHING! GET AWAY FROM ME!" she shrieks, body still rigid, fists still clenched and eyes now closed as if the very sight of me is just too much to bear.
She rejects my attempts to comfort her.
She rejects me with every fiber of her being.
Sometimes her meltdowns last for just a few minutes, but on occasion she can rage for close to an hour. It is so awful to witness her fury and her suffering as huge emotions overtake her.
If I'm honest with myself, it's also extremely painful to have all of that rage directed at me.
It's especially painful because I secretly worry that she rejects me in this way because I'm not her birth mother, K.
Is there some deep part of her that understands that I am not the woman who gave birth to her? Does she subconsciously want K and thus rejects me?
When she screams "I DON'T WANT YOU!" I secretly panic that she will always reject me because somehow I'm not her "real" mother.
I wonder and worry, if K were raising her would Esme just collapse in K's arms and allow herself to be hugged and comforted? Would she let K do that for her when she won't let me? Will she ever let me comfort her through a meltdown?
"I don't want you," Esme says again breathing hard, but she is running out of steam.
"What can I do for you?" I ask again.
"Nothing," she snuffles then walks to the couch where she seizes her beloved purple fleece jacket. She takes her "worry spot" (the bottom front where the zipper comes together) and gently rubs it under her nose. Her preferred method of self-soothing.
I take a step toward her and ask gently, "Can I give you a hug now?"
"Not yet," she says hiccuping, a few tears still rolling down her cheeks.
"OK, I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes."
I walk into the kitchen where I sag against the counter exhausted and hurt, trying and failing to not take it personally. Trying and failing to be confident in my role as Esme's "real" mom.
Wondering and worrying.
A few minutes later I return to the living room to sit down near her on the couch. "Can I give you a hug now?"
She shakes her head, but she moves closer to me and we sit together, not quite touching, in silence for a long time.
25 June 2014
Transracial adoption: One of these things is not like the other...
An interesting incident from January 2012 when I was still a new mom...
We are in line at the grocery store, my five month-old daughter sound asleep in her baby carrier on the cart and me watching the woman in front of us unloading her cart's contents onto the belt. The woman is blonde, blue-eyed, petite, and pretty. The little boy standing next to her - probably five years-old or so - has to be her son because he looks exactly like her. He is adorable. I can't help staring at him.
The little boy notices me gazing at him so I give him what I hope is my best "I really like little kids" smile. Thankfully he smiles back. Then he notices the baby carrier sitting on my cart and makes his way over to me.
"Can I see the baby?" he asks me in a raspy voice.
"Sure, Buddy," I say and move aside.
Grasping the cart handle he hoists himself up for a good look. Apparently this is a kid who really likes babies because he gets a goofy big smile on his face. At this moment his mom notices him missing from her side and looks around to see him standing on my cart. She looks as though she's going to call him back so I give her my most "it's OK" smile with a little hand wave and she relaxes while the cashier continues to scan and bag her items. After another moment the boy's smile fades as he looks from Esme to me and back again several times. He steps down from the cart and with a serious expression says slowly and loudly, "S h e ' s v e r y b r o w n."
The petite blonde looks alarmed at this loud pronouncement from her son.
"Yes, she is," I reply.
"She's very brown," he repeats, "and you're NOT."
A look of sheer horror settles on the face of the little boy's mom, but I wave her off gently before she can interrupt.
"No, I'm not," I say with a chuckle.
The little boy thinks about this for a moment and then asks, "So, is your husband brown?"
"Omigod," says the little boy's mom her face flushing in utter embarrassment.
Personally, I don't think she should be embarrassed at all. Her kid is a genius! How many five year-olds would make that leap?
"No, Buddy, my husband isn't brown."
He looks confused.
"My daughter is adopted."
"What does that mean?"
The boy's mother is now making quiet strangling noises with her face in her hands, "Honey, please!"
Ignoring his mother's near panic, I say, 'That means that my daughter grew in someone else's tummy, but that lady couldn't tale care of her when she was born. So my little girl came to live with me and my husband and now we're her parents."
"Oh, OK," he says cheerfully walking back to his mother's side.
"I am SO sorry," says the mom looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else.
"Please don't apologize. It's just fine. Really."
My daughter is brown.
Very brown.
And I am not.
We are in line at the grocery store, my five month-old daughter sound asleep in her baby carrier on the cart and me watching the woman in front of us unloading her cart's contents onto the belt. The woman is blonde, blue-eyed, petite, and pretty. The little boy standing next to her - probably five years-old or so - has to be her son because he looks exactly like her. He is adorable. I can't help staring at him.
The little boy notices me gazing at him so I give him what I hope is my best "I really like little kids" smile. Thankfully he smiles back. Then he notices the baby carrier sitting on my cart and makes his way over to me.
"Can I see the baby?" he asks me in a raspy voice.
"Sure, Buddy," I say and move aside.
Grasping the cart handle he hoists himself up for a good look. Apparently this is a kid who really likes babies because he gets a goofy big smile on his face. At this moment his mom notices him missing from her side and looks around to see him standing on my cart. She looks as though she's going to call him back so I give her my most "it's OK" smile with a little hand wave and she relaxes while the cashier continues to scan and bag her items. After another moment the boy's smile fades as he looks from Esme to me and back again several times. He steps down from the cart and with a serious expression says slowly and loudly, "S h e ' s v e r y b r o w n."
The petite blonde looks alarmed at this loud pronouncement from her son.
"Yes, she is," I reply.
"She's very brown," he repeats, "and you're NOT."
A look of sheer horror settles on the face of the little boy's mom, but I wave her off gently before she can interrupt.
"No, I'm not," I say with a chuckle.
The little boy thinks about this for a moment and then asks, "So, is your husband brown?"
"Omigod," says the little boy's mom her face flushing in utter embarrassment.
Personally, I don't think she should be embarrassed at all. Her kid is a genius! How many five year-olds would make that leap?
"No, Buddy, my husband isn't brown."
He looks confused.
"My daughter is adopted."
"What does that mean?"
The boy's mother is now making quiet strangling noises with her face in her hands, "Honey, please!"
Ignoring his mother's near panic, I say, 'That means that my daughter grew in someone else's tummy, but that lady couldn't tale care of her when she was born. So my little girl came to live with me and my husband and now we're her parents."
"Oh, OK," he says cheerfully walking back to his mother's side.
"I am SO sorry," says the mom looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else.
"Please don't apologize. It's just fine. Really."
My daughter is brown.
Very brown.
And I am not.
23 June 2014
I'm Back (and Conversations with Esme...)
It's hard for me to believe that my amazing girl is almost three years old.
And that I haven't written on this blog for more than two years. What the heck happened???
Motherhood.
That's what happened.
Diaper changes, sleep deprivation, walking circles around the kitchen island in the middle of the night trying to get her back to sleep, schlepping her in the car seat here and there, teething, barfing (her, not me), bottle feeding, baths, sleep deprivation, multiple daily clothing changes, getting barfed on, getting barfed on some more, getting barfed on again, sleep deprivation, crying in my car because I'm so tired, hearing her first laugh, seeing her first smile, watching her roll, then scoot, then crawl, then pull herself up, then take her first step, and more steps, then run, then say her first word and her second word, trips to the playground, more trips to the playground, etc. etc. etc.
Losing myself entirely for almost three years in this wonderful, terrible, fabulous, maddening and transformative thing called motherhood. When I started this blog back in 2009 to explore my husband's and my adoption journey, I had every intention of then writing about our family post-adoption and about my experience with motherhood. But somehow writing about motherhood just never materialized. I was just too busy. Too tired. Too much of a mom and not quite as much of the me I was before I became a mom.
But here I am again. Feeling the need to write. And what else would I write about? Being a mom is my full-time gig. It's what I do. It's what's in my brain. It's kind of all I know these days. So basically it's all I know to write.
So, to kick off the re-boot of this blog I am going stop making excuses for why I've been gone so long and instead get you up to speed on my girl via some of my favorite conversations with Esme who is, as I already mentioned, amazing.
Actually she is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. Super smart, extremely independent, uber social, fearless, compassionate, charming, and has a great sense of humor.
February 8, 2014
Filed under "What Not to Say to Your Child":
ME: OK, Sweetie, it's time to get dressed.
ESME [goofs around in rocking chair]
ME: Guess you don't want to go to the mall today. Guess we won't replace your bracelet.
ESME [hopping off chair]: Go mall! Go mall!
ME [lifting Esme onto changing table]: Well, we have to get you dressed. Can't go to the mall in your pajamas. Well, you could, but then I'd be a crap mom.
ESME [laughing hysterically]: Crap mom! Crap mom! Crap mom!
March 19, 2014
At the library with La Munchipessa.
ESME [picking up a toy stuffed frog]: Frog is sad.
ME: The frog is sad? Why is he sad?
ESME: Has no friends.
ME: The frog has no friends?
ESME: Nooo.
ME: That is sad.
ESME [rolling a toy car with two Little People in it to the frog]: Frog has new friends!! [smiles]
May 5, 2014
ESME [pointing to her purple sock monkey doll]: This is baby.
ME: Purple Monkey is your baby today?
ESME [nodding, but also frowning]: The baby sick.
ME: She's sick? Oh no.
ESME: Need to go to doctor office. The baby sick. Need to go to doctor office.
ME: OK, we better call to see if we can get an appointment.
ESME [pointing to Purple Monkey's little leg]: The baby has cramp! Has cramp!
ME: Oh no.
ESME: [rubbing Purple Monkey's leg and smiling a huge smile]: Cramp all gone! Baby feels better!
May 11, 2014
I am in bed while my husband and daughter are busy in the kitchen making pancakes for me. (And I know this because La Munchipessa just ran to the bedroom door, announced, "We making pancakes for you!" and then dashed off again.)
Happy Mother's Day to me!!!
[addendum: In related news, La Munchipessa just reappeared in the doorway to announce, "We have syrup!"]
May 31, 2014
So, I'm fighting the spring/early summer crud [cough cough cough sniffle sniffle sniffle]. My daughter;s take on the crud...
ESME: Open you mouth.
ME [opening my mouth]
ESME: You have germs in you mouth.
ME: Yes, I have germs in my mouth.
ESME [pointing to herself]: I doctor. I make you feel better.
ME: You're the doctor and you're going to make me feel better?
ESME: [nodding enthusiastically] : I doctor.
ME: What do you recommend for me to feel better?
ESME [thinking]: Soup!! [runs to her covered water table where she busily combines dirt and grass in a bowl] I make you cake. You feel better.
ME: Well, thank you. I think cake will make me feel better.
14 March 2011
Moving forward...
Moving forward.
What does this even mean?
I keep saying to people and writing on this blog and in messages to well-wishers, "Chris and I will just move forward."
And I guess that's the case. Except perhaps for the one ginormous ridiculous glaring fact that we've taken a huge step backwards. Back to waiting and wondering and uncertainty. Here we thought that today we'd be on maternity/paternity leave. Starting a new and exciting chapter in our lives. The chapter when we become parents. And instead today is back to work as usual.
Will anything ever feel "as usual" again?
"We'll just move forward."
At the moment I don't even know what that looks like. I keep moving from being sad to being numb to moments when I feel OK to trying to distract myself from the sadness and the numbness to extend those moments when I feel OK.
And now we're supposed to just go back to work as usual.
How do my husband and I do that?
How do we grieve and be normal and functional at the same time? How do I do that? How do I move forward when all I want to do this morning is crawl downstairs to my couch/cave and spend another day weeping there?
"We'll just move forward."
Our little tragedy is done, right? Move on. Get over it. Go to work. Focus on your job. These things happen for a reason. This obviously wasn't the right situation. Soon you guys will be parents.
"We'll just move forward."
Like Chris, I keep trying hard to not think about all of the things we would have been doing today had the adoption not fallen through. And I'm kind of failing miserably at not thinking about what today would have been like had the adoption not fallen through.
"We'll just move forward."
How do I do that? Can someone tell me?
At the moment I keep pretending to other people that it's as simple as moving forward one day at a time. I'm pretty sure that I keep pretending to myself that I'm moving forward.
But at the moment I don't know what the hell moving forward looks like.
I really don't.
* Addendum *
Chris reads the above post then wanders into the living room to plant a few gentle kisses on my forehead.
"I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do for you."
Knowing that he is in just as bad a shape as me, I reply, "I wish there was something that I could do for you."
"You could iron my shirt," he says with a little grin.
"Now that I can do," I reply with a smile.
So...I guess we're moving forward.
What does this even mean?
I keep saying to people and writing on this blog and in messages to well-wishers, "Chris and I will just move forward."
And I guess that's the case. Except perhaps for the one ginormous ridiculous glaring fact that we've taken a huge step backwards. Back to waiting and wondering and uncertainty. Here we thought that today we'd be on maternity/paternity leave. Starting a new and exciting chapter in our lives. The chapter when we become parents. And instead today is back to work as usual.
Will anything ever feel "as usual" again?
"We'll just move forward."
At the moment I don't even know what that looks like. I keep moving from being sad to being numb to moments when I feel OK to trying to distract myself from the sadness and the numbness to extend those moments when I feel OK.
And now we're supposed to just go back to work as usual.
How do my husband and I do that?
How do we grieve and be normal and functional at the same time? How do I do that? How do I move forward when all I want to do this morning is crawl downstairs to my couch/cave and spend another day weeping there?
"We'll just move forward."
Our little tragedy is done, right? Move on. Get over it. Go to work. Focus on your job. These things happen for a reason. This obviously wasn't the right situation. Soon you guys will be parents.
"We'll just move forward."
Like Chris, I keep trying hard to not think about all of the things we would have been doing today had the adoption not fallen through. And I'm kind of failing miserably at not thinking about what today would have been like had the adoption not fallen through.
"We'll just move forward."
How do I do that? Can someone tell me?
At the moment I keep pretending to other people that it's as simple as moving forward one day at a time. I'm pretty sure that I keep pretending to myself that I'm moving forward.
But at the moment I don't know what the hell moving forward looks like.
I really don't.
* Addendum *
Chris reads the above post then wanders into the living room to plant a few gentle kisses on my forehead.
"I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do for you."
Knowing that he is in just as bad a shape as me, I reply, "I wish there was something that I could do for you."
"You could iron my shirt," he says with a little grin.
"Now that I can do," I reply with a smile.
So...I guess we're moving forward.
02 January 2010
Worthy...part 2
It's taken me a while to get back to posting on this subject. Between preparing for the holidays, dealing with a sick kitty (no new news on that front just yet), experiencing the holidays, and then recovering from the holidays...well, I think you get the idea.
First - I want to take a moment to thank Susie, Cassi, Susiebook, Campbell, Mei Ling and Amanda for taking the time to comment on the original "Worthy..." post. It meant a lot to me that you folks commented and especially that you were all respectful of me and of each other. Thank you. I've been reading a few blogs lately where the commentors have been so very full of anger and vitriol for each other and for the blogger.
Just horrible.
So thank you for not making me afraid to read my own blog!
I had an entirely different blog post laid out yesterday, but I received an e-mail from a good friend of mine (T) today and so changed my mind about what I am going to post. Here's what T had to say:
Thank you T for your good words and kind thoughts. And for reminding me to keep in my mind the joyful part of this experience. And for reminding me that the world isn't a perfect place. Believe me - I am truly excited and happy that Chris and I are on the road to parenthood even if it is through a rather imperfect vehicle...
If it seems that I have been dwelling upon the negative in this blog - please know that it's certainly not my intention. This is simply the place where process my thoughts - good, bad, and otherwise. Perhaps a few years ago - P.B. (Pre-Blog) - I would have done much of this processing in a private journal. I still do that occasionally, but in truth I find the comments that people leave quite helpful as I puzzle my way through this adoption. Sometimes the comments challenge my views as the folks who leave them are from the "opposite" side, but I do find these comments informative, thought provoking and beneficial to my understanding of adoption today. I'm honored that people who don't share my views about adoption take the time to visit my blog to express their views.
Solving all of the problems in adoption today certainly isn't part of my life plan. However, it is my fervent hope that by thinking the issues through that I can work to make our particular adoption - our one little piece of the adoption world - one that is positive and healthy for all of the parties involved: our child, Chris, me, our families and also the child's first parents and first family.
I'd like to be part of a change in the world of adoption. So, amidst my own internal happiness and excitement about becoming a parent, I do take time to think about the process and how I can be the best part of it that I can be.
I may not necessarily be responsible for anyone else's choices or for solving their issues, but by adopting a child Chris and I are taking responsibility for that child. And this particular responsibility comes with a link to another family via the child that we will be raising. Like it or not, we are responsible for how we choose to interact with this child's first family, just as it is the responsibility for the first family to choose how they interact with us.
It is my hope that this link - this relationship with another family - this responsibility that we have for each other - will turn out to be beneficial and positive for this child and, in turn, for us and for the child's first family. That we can all work together to navigate a new relationship with care, with respect, with integrity and with compassion for each other.
I think what I've learned most from all of the blog reading and commenting is this:
The world of adoption is complicated.
Adoption isn't an easy process for anyone involved.
Adoption is hard.
If it's done "wrong" - unethically, with broken promises, disrespect, lies, abuse, and secrets among any and all parties, etc. - it creates a world of hurt for everyone involved: adopted children, adoptive parents, adoptive families, first parents and first families. It leads to anger, resentment, confusion, disruption, etc.
If it's done "well" or as well as it can be done within the flawed system that is currently in place today - ethically, open, with promises kept, with integrity and honesty, etc. - it can create large extended families who love and support each other and work toward raising healthy, happy children.
Adoption - even one that is done well - is definitely not perfect - by no means. There is loss inherent in adoption. That will never change. There is still confusion: how do we make this work for everyone? It takes time and commitment. If adoptive parents and first parents can somehow learn to work together, to be compassionate with each other, to make and keep promises that are always in the best interests of adopted children and each other, then it seems to me that we can make the world of adoption a better place than it is now.
There's a lot to think about. There's a lot to be excited about. Adoption may be hard and complicated, but it seems like it isn't going anywhere and it is a world in which I am enjoying the exploration. I am enjoying thoughts of becoming a parent and I am also enjoying engaging in dialogue about how all of us involved can make adoption better. I look forward to see what the future holds for all of us in this world.
It's time to sign off for this evening. I have some thoughts that I'd like to share on nature vs. nurture, but that will have to wait for another post.
As always, comments are very much welcomed. Please remember that T is my friend and sent the above as an e-mail to support me. I included it here because I thought it was very relevant to the discussion and to my thinking. So please, if you are going to leave a comment I ask that you be kind and respectful to T, me and everyone who chooses to respond. Thank you. I appreciate that.
Happy New Year.
First - I want to take a moment to thank Susie, Cassi, Susiebook, Campbell, Mei Ling and Amanda for taking the time to comment on the original "Worthy..." post. It meant a lot to me that you folks commented and especially that you were all respectful of me and of each other. Thank you. I've been reading a few blogs lately where the commentors have been so very full of anger and vitriol for each other and for the blogger.
Just horrible.
So thank you for not making me afraid to read my own blog!
I had an entirely different blog post laid out yesterday, but I received an e-mail from a good friend of mine (T) today and so changed my mind about what I am going to post. Here's what T had to say:
I understand your wanting to understand the adoption process from many angles and perspectives. It does seem that there is a tendency to dwell on the negative aspects and stories rather than the successes. Nothing in life is perfect Jenn. If you really want a child and adoption is your only means of having a child, then it's okay. If you do your best to be a good parent (not perfect---since no parents are) and you and Chris will love that child with all your hearts, then that's the best that you or any other parent can do.. You will never solve the issues/reasons that children are given up in the first place. You will never predict whether your child will be one who knows or wants to know or doesn't want to know their birth parents. Loving someone isn't about perfection. It's about being there and choosing to love them. Life can be full of regrets. Just because kids aren't adopted doesn't make their little lives filled with love---both [your friend G] and I are living examples of that. Loving, nurturing, and helping a child grow into a strong, independent, and good person is what parenting is about. Solving the issues of the birth parents is not your problem nor should it ever become your problem.. You are not responsible for their choice even though you may benefit from it directly. I hate to see you caught up in all of this and not really experiencing the joy and wonder of becoming a parent.
If it were a perfect world, only people who would make good parents would get pregnant at the perfect time. There would be no unwanted pregnancies or children. Parents would always be loving, supportive, and provide a healthy, safe, and loving environment for their children. Alas, the world is not perfect. Life is messy, confusing, and yes hurtful at times. And people make choices that later in life seem wrong and they have to reconcile their lives. Life provides multiple opportunities for us to reach out to others and love them and for all of us to grow.. Enjoy this endeavor to have a family that you are on. The journey should be thought provoking but not emotionally crippling and it certainly should not leave you with a bunch of other people's emotional baggage for you to carry and dwell on for the rest of your life as a parent. Let the wonder, joy, and excitement which started your process swell up inside of you and carry you through till you are picked to be parents.
Thank you T for your good words and kind thoughts. And for reminding me to keep in my mind the joyful part of this experience. And for reminding me that the world isn't a perfect place. Believe me - I am truly excited and happy that Chris and I are on the road to parenthood even if it is through a rather imperfect vehicle...
If it seems that I have been dwelling upon the negative in this blog - please know that it's certainly not my intention. This is simply the place where process my thoughts - good, bad, and otherwise. Perhaps a few years ago - P.B. (Pre-Blog) - I would have done much of this processing in a private journal. I still do that occasionally, but in truth I find the comments that people leave quite helpful as I puzzle my way through this adoption. Sometimes the comments challenge my views as the folks who leave them are from the "opposite" side, but I do find these comments informative, thought provoking and beneficial to my understanding of adoption today. I'm honored that people who don't share my views about adoption take the time to visit my blog to express their views.
Solving all of the problems in adoption today certainly isn't part of my life plan. However, it is my fervent hope that by thinking the issues through that I can work to make our particular adoption - our one little piece of the adoption world - one that is positive and healthy for all of the parties involved: our child, Chris, me, our families and also the child's first parents and first family.
I'd like to be part of a change in the world of adoption. So, amidst my own internal happiness and excitement about becoming a parent, I do take time to think about the process and how I can be the best part of it that I can be.
I may not necessarily be responsible for anyone else's choices or for solving their issues, but by adopting a child Chris and I are taking responsibility for that child. And this particular responsibility comes with a link to another family via the child that we will be raising. Like it or not, we are responsible for how we choose to interact with this child's first family, just as it is the responsibility for the first family to choose how they interact with us.
It is my hope that this link - this relationship with another family - this responsibility that we have for each other - will turn out to be beneficial and positive for this child and, in turn, for us and for the child's first family. That we can all work together to navigate a new relationship with care, with respect, with integrity and with compassion for each other.
I think what I've learned most from all of the blog reading and commenting is this:
The world of adoption is complicated.
Adoption isn't an easy process for anyone involved.
Adoption is hard.
If it's done "wrong" - unethically, with broken promises, disrespect, lies, abuse, and secrets among any and all parties, etc. - it creates a world of hurt for everyone involved: adopted children, adoptive parents, adoptive families, first parents and first families. It leads to anger, resentment, confusion, disruption, etc.
If it's done "well" or as well as it can be done within the flawed system that is currently in place today - ethically, open, with promises kept, with integrity and honesty, etc. - it can create large extended families who love and support each other and work toward raising healthy, happy children.
Adoption - even one that is done well - is definitely not perfect - by no means. There is loss inherent in adoption. That will never change. There is still confusion: how do we make this work for everyone? It takes time and commitment. If adoptive parents and first parents can somehow learn to work together, to be compassionate with each other, to make and keep promises that are always in the best interests of adopted children and each other, then it seems to me that we can make the world of adoption a better place than it is now.
There's a lot to think about. There's a lot to be excited about. Adoption may be hard and complicated, but it seems like it isn't going anywhere and it is a world in which I am enjoying the exploration. I am enjoying thoughts of becoming a parent and I am also enjoying engaging in dialogue about how all of us involved can make adoption better. I look forward to see what the future holds for all of us in this world.
It's time to sign off for this evening. I have some thoughts that I'd like to share on nature vs. nurture, but that will have to wait for another post.
As always, comments are very much welcomed. Please remember that T is my friend and sent the above as an e-mail to support me. I included it here because I thought it was very relevant to the discussion and to my thinking. So please, if you are going to leave a comment I ask that you be kind and respectful to T, me and everyone who chooses to respond. Thank you. I appreciate that.
Happy New Year.
18 November 2009
The "yuck" factor...
OK, I admit it.
I'm a lemming.
I've now joined the legions of other lemmings who went over the cliff to follow McDreamy and Meredith along their improbable romantic journey on Grey's Anatomy.
I'm not a rabid lemming because I'm several seasons behind having only just gotten caught up in the Meredith/McDreamy saga in re-runs on whatever channel happens to be channel 40 in my viewing area and whenever I happen to be home to catch an episode or two.
The episode I watched last night left me feeling sort of....well, "yuck" if you must know.
It turns out that Dr. Izzy has a daughter that she gave up for adoption.
Gasp!
No!
Really?
That's not the "yuck" factor.
I imagine that there are many Izzy-s out there - successful women who have children that they are not parenting - children that are being raised by others.
The "yuck" factor in the storyline is that the GA writers opt to tell Izzy's adoption story via every bad adoption cliché they could think of - Izzy grew up poor, in a trailer park (no!), had uneducated parents, got herself pregnant at 16 (really???) but knew that a baby would screw up any chance of her ever getting away from her trailer trash life, etc. etc. etc.
Could the writers have gone for any more awful clichés about a woman who pursues adoption for her child? Could they have been any less thoughtful in their presentation of what adoption looks like?
Please don't get me wrong - I'm sure that that there really are those stories out there. I certainly don't want to bash any young woman who chooses to put up her child for adoption because she is certain that she doesn't have the resources to care for her child and wants to make a better life for herself and her child.
But what makes Izzy's storyline so yucky is that people who are not involved in adoption just assume that children who are placed for adoption only come from the kind of situation the GA writers describe...when the reality is that there are so many situations that involve adoption - much more so than just "young poor girl gets pregnant."
The GA episode takes an even yuckier turn when Izzy counsels (in a very heavy-handed way) a 16 year-old pregnant girl in her care to give up her baby for adoption.
"You're smart," Izzy says to the girl, "You read Shakespeare to your baby now, but after you've worked a 12-hour shift at the truck stop you won't be reading Shakespeare to your baby then."
Gack.
Now if I'm honest I can and will admit that I am of the opinion that a 16 year-old girl is likely not going to be well equipped or have the resources to adequately parent a child. However, I will also admit that I could be wrong and that that may not necessarily always be the case. Perhaps there are young women out there who - with support - could make a good life for themselves and their children. Not many, but maybe.
The way Izzy swoops in to counsel the young girl in the GA episode... It reminded me of everything that's wrong with adoption today - some well-meaning person telling - not asking but telling - a girl or woman what she should do and what's best for her and her baby. The well-meaning person assuming that he/she knows better and knows what's best.
In the episode the 16 year-old girl's mother is furious with Izzy for trying to convince the girl to give up her baby. The girl's mother wants to help parent the child. Izzy pretty much lays the same "You're daughter is smart" line on the mother and then storms away without waiting to hear what the girl's mother has to say.
Did it ever occur to Izzy (or to the GA writers for that matter) to ASK the girl and her mother about their parenting plan? Or to consider the fact that the mother of this 16 year-old girl wanted to be there to help parent her grandchild?
To go beyond the assumption.
This may sound strange coming from a me - a woman who is preparing to adopt.
But it isn't.
I would very much like to know that the girl or woman who is preparing to give up her child to me - whatever her age, race, socioeconomic situation - has been presented with and has considered ALL of her options. That she is making the most informed decision she can. That she isn't being pressured or coerced into adoption. If she wants to parent and has family that are willing to support her and help parent her child, who am I or anyone else to to say that she would be better off giving up her child for adoption?
Grey's Anatomy is a ridiculous show...over the top and heavy-handed in just about all of its storylines. It's not like I expect anything more than mindless entertainment when I fall off the cliff to watch it, but it would have been nice if the writers could have just this once seen beyond the cliché...gone beyond the assumption.
I'm a lemming.
I've now joined the legions of other lemmings who went over the cliff to follow McDreamy and Meredith along their improbable romantic journey on Grey's Anatomy.
I'm not a rabid lemming because I'm several seasons behind having only just gotten caught up in the Meredith/McDreamy saga in re-runs on whatever channel happens to be channel 40 in my viewing area and whenever I happen to be home to catch an episode or two.
The episode I watched last night left me feeling sort of....well, "yuck" if you must know.
It turns out that Dr. Izzy has a daughter that she gave up for adoption.
Gasp!
No!
Really?
That's not the "yuck" factor.
I imagine that there are many Izzy-s out there - successful women who have children that they are not parenting - children that are being raised by others.
The "yuck" factor in the storyline is that the GA writers opt to tell Izzy's adoption story via every bad adoption cliché they could think of - Izzy grew up poor, in a trailer park (no!), had uneducated parents, got herself pregnant at 16 (really???) but knew that a baby would screw up any chance of her ever getting away from her trailer trash life, etc. etc. etc.
Could the writers have gone for any more awful clichés about a woman who pursues adoption for her child? Could they have been any less thoughtful in their presentation of what adoption looks like?
Please don't get me wrong - I'm sure that that there really are those stories out there. I certainly don't want to bash any young woman who chooses to put up her child for adoption because she is certain that she doesn't have the resources to care for her child and wants to make a better life for herself and her child.
But what makes Izzy's storyline so yucky is that people who are not involved in adoption just assume that children who are placed for adoption only come from the kind of situation the GA writers describe...when the reality is that there are so many situations that involve adoption - much more so than just "young poor girl gets pregnant."
The GA episode takes an even yuckier turn when Izzy counsels (in a very heavy-handed way) a 16 year-old pregnant girl in her care to give up her baby for adoption.
"You're smart," Izzy says to the girl, "You read Shakespeare to your baby now, but after you've worked a 12-hour shift at the truck stop you won't be reading Shakespeare to your baby then."
Gack.
Now if I'm honest I can and will admit that I am of the opinion that a 16 year-old girl is likely not going to be well equipped or have the resources to adequately parent a child. However, I will also admit that I could be wrong and that that may not necessarily always be the case. Perhaps there are young women out there who - with support - could make a good life for themselves and their children. Not many, but maybe.
The way Izzy swoops in to counsel the young girl in the GA episode... It reminded me of everything that's wrong with adoption today - some well-meaning person telling - not asking but telling - a girl or woman what she should do and what's best for her and her baby. The well-meaning person assuming that he/she knows better and knows what's best.
In the episode the 16 year-old girl's mother is furious with Izzy for trying to convince the girl to give up her baby. The girl's mother wants to help parent the child. Izzy pretty much lays the same "You're daughter is smart" line on the mother and then storms away without waiting to hear what the girl's mother has to say.
Did it ever occur to Izzy (or to the GA writers for that matter) to ASK the girl and her mother about their parenting plan? Or to consider the fact that the mother of this 16 year-old girl wanted to be there to help parent her grandchild?
To go beyond the assumption.
This may sound strange coming from a me - a woman who is preparing to adopt.
But it isn't.
I would very much like to know that the girl or woman who is preparing to give up her child to me - whatever her age, race, socioeconomic situation - has been presented with and has considered ALL of her options. That she is making the most informed decision she can. That she isn't being pressured or coerced into adoption. If she wants to parent and has family that are willing to support her and help parent her child, who am I or anyone else to to say that she would be better off giving up her child for adoption?
Grey's Anatomy is a ridiculous show...over the top and heavy-handed in just about all of its storylines. It's not like I expect anything more than mindless entertainment when I fall off the cliff to watch it, but it would have been nice if the writers could have just this once seen beyond the cliché...gone beyond the assumption.
15 November 2009
Compassion...
com·pas·sion (noun)
sympathy for the suffering of others, often including a desire to help
We're now in the waiting stage. Chris just mailed off the very last batch of adoption "stuff" on Friday. The adoption facilitators will take the next few weeks to assemble our various electronic and print profiles. Once those are done, we wait for an expectant mother to choose us and the we proceed from there.
So, shouldn't I be over the moon with excitement and anticipation right about now?
Yes?
Strangely, what I find myself feeling instead is...pensive.
Kind and very well-meaning friends say things to me like, "Wow! So that means that your baby is already getting ready to be born soon!"
Yes, this is true. Amazing and true.
But it also means that there is an expectant mother out there who is struggling under the weight of making the decision to give up her child to me.
She is suffering and that troubles me.
Maybe she is poor and feels she just doesn't have the resources to raise this child. Or maybe she already has other children and feels that the addition of this child to her family would be just too overwhelming for her. Maybe she is very young and doesn't feel ready for motherhood. Maybe she isn't young, but still doesn't feel ready for motherhood.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Regardless of what brought her to this point, she is thinking about putting her child up for adoption and I can only imagine what is happening in this woman's mind and heavy heart.
A number of people have said that they worry that I'm thinking way too much about the "birthmother" who is "making her own choice" and that I should just focus on becoming a mother myself.
But, tell me, honestly how can I do that? How can I NOT think about the suffering of this expectant mother?
Is it right for me to just set aside her feelings in favor of my own?
No.
The adoption industry pretty much sells the idea that "birthmothers" (goodness, how I dislike that term) leave the adoption process and after a few years just "move on" with their lives and get over it.
But I don't believe that.
What woman could spend 9 months with a child growing inside of her and just walk away from that child and "move on"?
There must be grief - a lifelong grief that any woman would experience at having handed over her child to strangers to raise.
Shouldn't I have compassion for her?
Just as somehow she has enough compassion for me to give me the most precious thing she has - her child?
I think about it this way...
What if my sister had to give up a child for adoption?
What if it was my sister-in-law?
Or any of my friends or colleagues?
Wouldn't I want the adoption industry and the adoptive parents to look out for my sister or my sister-in-law or my friend or colleague?
To be compassionate with her and to treat her like a human being who is fragile and has feelings and who is suffering as a result of having to make this decision?
Yes.
And so I think about this woman who is out there right now struggling to make this decision for herself, for her child and, ultimately for Chris and me. I am thinking of this woman who is the mother of the child that Chris and I will eventually raise. This woman who is someone's sister, someone's friend, someone's daughter and who will soon be related to me and my family because Chris and I will be raising her child.
So I would like to be compassionate, but to also move beyond compassion to action.
As strange as it may sound to others, I believe that this woman should have the opportunity to know her child and not to be left to a lifetime of wondering and grieving. And that this child that will become ours should have the opportunity to know her mother from the start of life - not 18 years later "in reunion" with all of its attendant life-altering disruption and confusion - to actually have a life-long relationship and to hear directly from the source the why of her adoption. I believe that our child should not be left with a lifetime of wondering about her biological mother and family.
Moving through our child's life with honesty, openness and integrity and without secrets and lies seems to me the best way that we can be a family - And very likely this means navigating new, non-traditional and possibly awkward, uncomfortable and challenging situations and relationships.
But I believe that we should do this...
Without fear of the unknown.
Without judgment.
With compassion for each other.
Will this become our reality?
I don't know. There are so many variables, but in my mind and heart I am committed to working with Chris and the mother of this child to see how we can best move forward through this adoption - for the good of everyone involved.
The world of adoption and compassion...
Based on my limited experience so far in the world of adoption - one of the things that has shocked me most is the incredible amount of judgment out there and the awful, awful lack of compassion that many women seem to have for each other...
- Adult adoptees who are furious at their biological mothers for giving them up for adoption.
- Adult adoptees who judge their biological mothers as selfish for walking away from them and often judge their adoptive mothers just as selfish if not more so for adopting them away from their biological families.
- Biological mothers who rage against women struggling with infertility who pursue adoption as a means of becoming parents.
- Biological mothers who are angry at the children who they surrendered to adoption who don't want contact as adults.
- Biological mothers who rage against the adoption industry for its manipulativeness.
- Adoptive mothers who are angry at the biological mothers that want more or even any contact with the children they surrendered for adoption.
- Adoptive mothers who are angry with their adult adopted children for wanting more or even any contact with their biological families.
- Adoptive mothers who judge biological mothers as terrible for surrendering their children to adoption.
- The list goes on and on.
Why is it that we can't simply recognize that we ALL come to adoption from a place of deep hurt and pain?
How can I look without compassion at a woman who has been struggling for years to get pregnant and become a mother? How can I - or any woman - not feel for this woman who has been struggling with the pain of infertility?
And how can I look without compassion at a woman who gave up her child for adoption (for whatever reason!) and is suffering because she has spent her life regretting her decision and/or wondering and worrying about that child? Doesn't she deserve our compassion, too?
Or what about the adult adoptee who is battling to get her original birth certificate, to find her biological family or is in the midst of an awkward and disruptive reunion? Shouldn't we feel for her suffering?
I do, but it doesn't seem to be that way for many in this topsy-turvy world of adoption.
There is a distinct lack of compassion on all sides.
What surprises me most is not just the lack of compassion, but the downright surplus of anger and viciousness that exists out there - especially in the adoption blogging world. Women from all sides of adoption spend time villainizing, demonizing, judging, denigrating, and disparaging each other with a cruelty that dismays and saddens me to my very core.
And at the heart of this cruelty and viciousness there seems to be a sort of "my pain is greater then your pain" mantra out there in the world of adoption.
Really?
Is your pain greater than mine?
Is my pain greater than yours?
I don't think so.
Wouldn't it be better for all parties in the world of adoption if we acknowledged that we have ALL struggled in different ways? Wouldn't it be healthier if we tried supporting each other instead of tearing each other down?
I guess what bothers me most in all of this is not the "my pain is greater than your pain" thing, but the fact that quite often the women in this world seem to view each other as thoughtless, selfish creatures who are incapable of compassion or thinking of anyone beyond themselves.
How can we think that about each other?
12 November 2009
28 questions...
28 questions.
That's how many we had to answer on the second to last adoption questionnaire.
28 questions:
The basic and innocuous:
The serious and thought provoking:
The so hard to answer:
The vomitous and upsetting:
The answers soon...
That's how many we had to answer on the second to last adoption questionnaire.
28 questions:
The basic and innocuous:
What is your favorite food?
Do you play any musical instruments?
The serious and thought provoking:
What do you hope to teach your children?
How will you help your child accomplish his/her dreams?
The so hard to answer:
What will you tell your child about his/her birthmother?
The vomitous and upsetting:
What makes a birthmom special?
The answers soon...
21 September 2009
Humor, race, color-awareness...and adoption
Chris and I have now taken 4 parenting classes with 2 left to complete the required series. For the most part they are all interesting and informative, although the "Creating Your Profile" course did provoke some yawns.
Why?
Well, the course is geared to people who don't really write much or who are not confident in their writing skills. Being that Chris and I are both writers I can't say that we found the course as useful as someone would who doesn't write or feels very nervous about putting together a profile. I imagine that this course is a very helpful tool in the adoption process for non-writers.
The course that makes us break out into laughter from time to time is "Conspicuous Families: Race, Culture, and Adoption."
Please don't get me wrong - transracial adoption is no laughing matter.
However, part of the course involves providing strategies for parents of multicultural families to deal with intrusive comments and questions. One of the suggested strategies to use is - in the appropriate setting and time - humor. Apparently this strategy can be quite effective at deflecting unwanted questions. This strategy is also apparently to be used very sparingly - and not when your child is at an age where he/she will not understand sarcasm and may take the comments to heart.
But some of the sample answers were pretty funny:
In addition to some of these sample humorous responses, in this course we get to read stories from adoptees and their parents about how they handle issues and intrusive or insensitive questions/comments in transracial adoptions/multi-cultural families. Here is a story from Judy Stigger, a white mother raising her bi-racial African American daughter:
Chris and I both get a good chuckle out of this one.
Laughter aside...working through the course about multi-cultural families definitely made me pause for a moment (actually many moments...) to reflect upon what it might be like if we were to bring a child of another race/ethnicity into our family. I realize that there is so much more to consider when creating a multi-racial family...
We live in a very white community.
As far as I know, there is just one African American family in our neighborhood.
The schools in our community are not terribly diverse.
Would we be doing this child a disservice by raising her in a community where she wouldn't see many faces that look like hers?
If we did adopt a child of another race/ethnicity, should we consider moving from our very lovely, but very non-diverse neighborhood to a neighborhood that reflects the diversity of our state?
Will we be able to handle with grace the intrusive and/or insensitive comments and questions thrown at us?
It's a lot to consider.
When we first started the adoption process my usual comment to people about the baby's race, "We don't really care about race. Ten fingers, ten toes and healthy...that's what's important."
But is it?
Is that what's most important?
As much as I think that I don't need to care about race...I should care about it.
And as much as I might like to think that race doesn't matter...it does.
So, after taking this course, do I only want to consider bringing a white baby into our family?
While I'm still open to the idea of welcoming a baby of any race into our family, I now know much better than before we took this course that we will certainly encounter challenges as a "conspicuous" family that we likely would not encounter if we adopt a child that looks like us.
It's definitely something to take into very serious consideration.
Why?
Well, the course is geared to people who don't really write much or who are not confident in their writing skills. Being that Chris and I are both writers I can't say that we found the course as useful as someone would who doesn't write or feels very nervous about putting together a profile. I imagine that this course is a very helpful tool in the adoption process for non-writers.
The course that makes us break out into laughter from time to time is "Conspicuous Families: Race, Culture, and Adoption."
Please don't get me wrong - transracial adoption is no laughing matter.
However, part of the course involves providing strategies for parents of multicultural families to deal with intrusive comments and questions. One of the suggested strategies to use is - in the appropriate setting and time - humor. Apparently this strategy can be quite effective at deflecting unwanted questions. This strategy is also apparently to be used very sparingly - and not when your child is at an age where he/she will not understand sarcasm and may take the comments to heart.
But some of the sample answers were pretty funny:
In the grocery store...
Intrusive comment/question: What a pretty little girl. She has such beautiful dark skin and curly hair. So different from you! Is she your real daughter?
Adoptive parent response: No, she's my fake daughter.
In addition to some of these sample humorous responses, in this course we get to read stories from adoptees and their parents about how they handle issues and intrusive or insensitive questions/comments in transracial adoptions/multi-cultural families. Here is a story from Judy Stigger, a white mother raising her bi-racial African American daughter:
I was driving my daughter and four new teammates on the seventh grade basketball team to a game. A girl in the backseat, to whom I'd just been introduced, asked Kathy, "Is your Dad black?"
"Oh no," I thought, "racial category question yet again."
Kathy responded casually, "I don't know, my mom can't remember."
Every face in the car turned towards me.
I both blushed with embarrassment and beamed with pride. Kathy had found a way to move the spotlight from herself onto someone else. She had used humor to sidestep he race categories question.
Chris and I both get a good chuckle out of this one.
Laughter aside...working through the course about multi-cultural families definitely made me pause for a moment (actually many moments...) to reflect upon what it might be like if we were to bring a child of another race/ethnicity into our family. I realize that there is so much more to consider when creating a multi-racial family...
We live in a very white community.
As far as I know, there is just one African American family in our neighborhood.
The schools in our community are not terribly diverse.
Would we be doing this child a disservice by raising her in a community where she wouldn't see many faces that look like hers?
If we did adopt a child of another race/ethnicity, should we consider moving from our very lovely, but very non-diverse neighborhood to a neighborhood that reflects the diversity of our state?
Will we be able to handle with grace the intrusive and/or insensitive comments and questions thrown at us?
It's a lot to consider.
When we first started the adoption process my usual comment to people about the baby's race, "We don't really care about race. Ten fingers, ten toes and healthy...that's what's important."
But is it?
Is that what's most important?
As much as I think that I don't need to care about race...I should care about it.
And as much as I might like to think that race doesn't matter...it does.
So, after taking this course, do I only want to consider bringing a white baby into our family?
While I'm still open to the idea of welcoming a baby of any race into our family, I now know much better than before we took this course that we will certainly encounter challenges as a "conspicuous" family that we likely would not encounter if we adopt a child that looks like us.
It's definitely something to take into very serious consideration.
13 September 2009
Selfishness...
The adoption industry markets adoption as a way to fulfill the desires of adults.
Why is it that my husband and I as prospective adoptive parents are "fulfilling our own desires," while a couple who can have their own biological children are simply "starting a family"?
Are those folks who can have biological children NOT fulfilling their own desires as well? So those folks are totally unselfish? They're having a child not to satisfy their own desires to be parents and have a family, but specifically for the best interests of that child?
Isn't the very act of procreating something of a selfish act? Wanting to have children to fulfill that desire to have a family? To have the experience of being parents? That desire to pass on our genes and/or our ideals and/or our knowledge and/or our love? To watch a child grow and change and become a grown person? To feel the joy that comes along with parenting?
To love and to be loved? To give and to be given to in return? To care for and to be cared for in return?
Another blogger wrote recently:
Finally, I urge women to NOT adopt, no matter how much you want a baby of your own.
So, basically for those of us who have issues around fertility what this blogger and so many who hold anti-adoption views are saying to people like me and my husband...tough luck.
Is that it?
Suck it up.
Remain childless.
Don't even think about parenthood because it just isn't for you.
Some days I am so excited about moving forward with our adoption. Then there are other days where I run across negativity on the web that just deflates me. Guess today is one of those days.
Truly - I don't want to write posts like this one. I'd rather reflect in the joy and excitement of staring our family. However, I also believe that it's my responsibility to continue to educate myself about adoption and its implications for our future and that of our child. Consequently, I'm sure (and sad) that I will continue to run into information out there and people out there who will assure me in every way that I am wrong for wanting to adopt.
31 August 2009
When when when?
A lot of folks have been asking, "So, when will you actually get The Kid?"
So, here's the deal on that...there is still a LOT that has to happen before we become Plus One...
So...if, as Chris has indicated on his blog, there are 150 steps in this adoption...we're on about Step #96.
Patience, my friends. Patience.
(OK, anyone who knows me will think that last line is pretty funny.)
So, here's the deal on that...there is still a LOT that has to happen before we become Plus One...
- I still need to get fingerprinted by our local police department (the only hours in which to take care of this task...Thursdays 10:00-noon and 1:00-2:30)
- we're waiting on the letter from the bank stating that we can afford The Kid
- I have yet to request a letter from my workplace
- we're waiting on letters of reference from friends
- also still waiting on an FBI clearance confirming that we are not terrorists or members of the Most Wanted list
- Chris and I need to submit all of our paperwork - once received - to social worker M
- social worker M needs to write up her report (the Home Study) stating that we are fit to be parents
- we need to submit our application to the adoption law firm
- after applying to the law firm then we need to write our profile materials
- profile then needs to be prepared by law firm folks and posted on the law firm website for viewing
- then we need to wait while profile is viewed by women considering placement via adoption
- hopefully we'll then be selected by a woman considering placement via adoption who proves to be a good "match" with us
- then there is the waiting until the baby is born
- then there is waiting to see if the mother will decide to parent her child instead of place her for adoption - and if that happens then we back up two steps and wait again
So...if, as Chris has indicated on his blog, there are 150 steps in this adoption...we're on about Step #96.
Patience, my friends. Patience.
(OK, anyone who knows me will think that last line is pretty funny.)
29 August 2009
Sarah...are you out there?
If you're new to "In the present moment..." I'm referring to the Sarah who appeared in a post called Becoming a mom...for Sarah.
You can also read the comment she left me at Becoming a mom...a new idea.
I have no idea if Sarah ever returned to visit here again, if she saw the post that I wrote for her way back when, or if she has made any decisions about pursuing motherhood with her partner.
I think of her often.
It's strange and funny how life can change. How things that you thought were never possible suddenly become not only possibilities but actual realities.
A little more than a year ago if you had asked me if I was ever going to be a mom I would have given you a firm "No" in reply.
Not a "No" born out of no interest, but a "No" born out of fear and anxiety.
And here we are today...in the middle of an adoption!
Even a few months ago, when I told Chris that I had changed my mind and wanted to start a family with him....there was still fear. Still trepidation. Still anxiety. But the decision was made and we moved forward.
And the amazing thing is that the closer we get to being Plus One, the less fear, anxiety and trepidation intrudes in my life as they are continually being replaced with joy and excitement.
Don't get me wrong - there are still days where I'll suddenly think, "Can I do this? Am I good enough? Will I be a good mom?" I'd be lying if I said otherwise...but now that we're in the middle of this adoption I can't really think of anything that I'd rather be doing than becoming Plus One.
Seeing Chris' excitement and joy is...indescribably wonderful.
He's in the kitchen right now making his famous homemade salsa (y'all will have to visit sometime to try it...so yummy!), listening to Neko Case and looking very domestic and content. I'm clackering away here in the living room watching him through the wide doorway.
And I'm thinking, "In two years we'll have a toddler running around this house. Chris will be making salsa on a rainy Saturday afternoon, the Saturday afternoon music will be playing and I'll be trying to keep the Schmoopie out of her Daddy's way in the kitchen."
What a nice thought.
Not one I ever thought I'd think! But here we are.
And then I wonder about Sarah.
Are you still out there, Sarah? Are you still struggling with your fears about becoming a mom? Are you still looking for help and reassurance? Have you talked to anyone about your fears?
Are you OK?
I'm sending you healing energy, Sarah, and hope that you are finding your way.
You can also read the comment she left me at Becoming a mom...a new idea.
I have no idea if Sarah ever returned to visit here again, if she saw the post that I wrote for her way back when, or if she has made any decisions about pursuing motherhood with her partner.
I think of her often.
It's strange and funny how life can change. How things that you thought were never possible suddenly become not only possibilities but actual realities.
A little more than a year ago if you had asked me if I was ever going to be a mom I would have given you a firm "No" in reply.
Not a "No" born out of no interest, but a "No" born out of fear and anxiety.
And here we are today...in the middle of an adoption!
Even a few months ago, when I told Chris that I had changed my mind and wanted to start a family with him....there was still fear. Still trepidation. Still anxiety. But the decision was made and we moved forward.
And the amazing thing is that the closer we get to being Plus One, the less fear, anxiety and trepidation intrudes in my life as they are continually being replaced with joy and excitement.
Don't get me wrong - there are still days where I'll suddenly think, "Can I do this? Am I good enough? Will I be a good mom?" I'd be lying if I said otherwise...but now that we're in the middle of this adoption I can't really think of anything that I'd rather be doing than becoming Plus One.
Seeing Chris' excitement and joy is...indescribably wonderful.
He's in the kitchen right now making his famous homemade salsa (y'all will have to visit sometime to try it...so yummy!), listening to Neko Case and looking very domestic and content. I'm clackering away here in the living room watching him through the wide doorway.
And I'm thinking, "In two years we'll have a toddler running around this house. Chris will be making salsa on a rainy Saturday afternoon, the Saturday afternoon music will be playing and I'll be trying to keep the Schmoopie out of her Daddy's way in the kitchen."
What a nice thought.
Not one I ever thought I'd think! But here we are.
And then I wonder about Sarah.
Are you still out there, Sarah? Are you still struggling with your fears about becoming a mom? Are you still looking for help and reassurance? Have you talked to anyone about your fears?
Are you OK?
I'm sending you healing energy, Sarah, and hope that you are finding your way.
27 August 2009
Let's get physical...
No. I'm not talking about the Olivia Newton John song (although apparently one of my friends on Facebook had that rolling around in her head for days and days...and now you will, too...)
I'm talking about a real physical - like at a doctor's office.
Like the thing that I'm getting done in two hours.
Urgh.
As I've mentioned in previous posts, I'm 41 years old and not exactly svelte. These last few years of fund raising have seen my stress level - and my eating habits - go a bit crazy.
I'm not looking forward to this doctor's appointment.
And seeing the number on the scale.
And learning my current cholesterol level. (Please be good! Please be good!)
Sigh.
But the adoption folks say I gotta get it done...so I'm getting it done. Blood work (aaaiiieeeeee... needles!!!) and all.
Gotta make sure I'm healthy enough to raise the Schmoopie.
"Let's get physical - physical!! I wanna get physical!!..."
Wish me luck.
I'm talking about a real physical - like at a doctor's office.
Like the thing that I'm getting done in two hours.
Urgh.
As I've mentioned in previous posts, I'm 41 years old and not exactly svelte. These last few years of fund raising have seen my stress level - and my eating habits - go a bit crazy.
I'm not looking forward to this doctor's appointment.
And seeing the number on the scale.
And learning my current cholesterol level. (Please be good! Please be good!)
Sigh.
But the adoption folks say I gotta get it done...so I'm getting it done. Blood work (aaaiiieeeeee... needles!!!) and all.
Gotta make sure I'm healthy enough to raise the Schmoopie.
"Let's get physical - physical!! I wanna get physical!!..."
Wish me luck.
22 August 2009
Wow...that's all I can say...well, not quite all
I was looking at some adoption stuff online today and came across a website put together by a group of mothers who gave up children to adoption and who firmly believe that they were coerced and manipulated by the adoption industry and adoptive parents.
Here's what these ladies have to say about me, my husband and other prospective adoptive parents:
Wow.
That's pretty harsh, don't you think?
The authors of this particular website indicated that reproductive predators (apparently that'd be me and my husband) will use among other methods: manipulation, coercion, lies, fraud, pressure, threats, guilt, and bribery to achieve the ultimate goal of stealing a baby from a poor, naive young woman.
It truly pains me to know that there are people out there who genuinely believe that Chris and I are going through this process by following some nefarious plan that involves using any means necessary to get ourselves a baby.
That there are people in the world who actually liken us to predators.
Wow.
I mean...how do I respond to that?
There was a time when I would have gotten really angry or upset. When I would have had harsh words in return. Or when I would have crawled into bed because I was so hurt by the angry words...
But now...not so much.
I can't be angry. Obviously the women who set up this website are suffering and grieving terribly and for that I wish them peace, healing and freedom from their suffering.
As for any mother out there who - for whatever reason - is considering adoption today, please know that:
It's late and I'm tired...so, I think that I'll sign off for now. Still a little shaken by what I've read, but at least secure in the knowledge that while they may think that I'm an evil person out to do harm, I know that I am not.
Here's what these ladies have to say about me, my husband and other prospective adoptive parents:
Just like a sexual predator looks for vulnerable women and youth to exploit, reproductive predators hunt for a vulnerable expectant mother so they can persuade or pressure her to give up her baby...They might be your doctor's receptionist, your sister-in-law, your highschool counsellor, or the nice neighbours next door. What they have in common is that they want your baby.
Wow.
That's pretty harsh, don't you think?
The authors of this particular website indicated that reproductive predators (apparently that'd be me and my husband) will use among other methods: manipulation, coercion, lies, fraud, pressure, threats, guilt, and bribery to achieve the ultimate goal of stealing a baby from a poor, naive young woman.
It truly pains me to know that there are people out there who genuinely believe that Chris and I are going through this process by following some nefarious plan that involves using any means necessary to get ourselves a baby.
That there are people in the world who actually liken us to predators.
Wow.
I mean...how do I respond to that?
There was a time when I would have gotten really angry or upset. When I would have had harsh words in return. Or when I would have crawled into bed because I was so hurt by the angry words...
But now...not so much.
I can't be angry. Obviously the women who set up this website are suffering and grieving terribly and for that I wish them peace, healing and freedom from their suffering.
As for any mother out there who - for whatever reason - is considering adoption today, please know that:
- I don't believe that I am entitled to your child nor do I feel that you are not entitled to your child because of your circumstances in life.
- I hope and wish for you that you CAN keep your child.
- you can somehow find the strength and resources to remain with your Little One.
- as a prospective adoptive parent I do NOT view you as a breeder or baby maker or the answer to my prayers - the giver of a miracle. Your child isn't a gift to be given away.
- I know that you must be struggling terribly under the weight of the most difficult decision that you will ever make.
- if you DO decide that adoption is best for you then I hope you might feel that Chris and I would be worthy of raising your child. It would be a privilege and an honor.
- Chris and I are trying our very best to move through this adoption process with honesty, integrity, respect for all parties involved, empathy, and the best interests of the Little One in our hearts and minds.
It's late and I'm tired...so, I think that I'll sign off for now. Still a little shaken by what I've read, but at least secure in the knowledge that while they may think that I'm an evil person out to do harm, I know that I am not.
19 August 2009
Home invasion - er - inspection...done!
Social worker M made her inspection. After giving her the grand tour of the house, we sat out on our deck where we fed her fruit and chatted about this, that and the other thing...mostly to do with the house and the adoption.
M left at 6:45 p.m.
The house was (and still is) quite clean and, aside from the fact that the temperature during the home inspection was only just shy of what it must feel like on the surface of the sun, the visit went extremely well.
Apparently we passed our home visit.
We passed!
Chris and I are breathing huge sighs of relief.
Relief!
Have I mentioned that we passed??? That M said this seemed like it would be a great place to raise a kid??? That she was impressed with the gardening we've done and the changes we've made to the house???
We passed!!!
So now we just have to get the rest of the paperwork done and submitted in the next three weeks or so.
(Oh yeah - and actually apply to the placement agency.)
We're one big step closer to bringing Schmoopie home.
M left at 6:45 p.m.
The house was (and still is) quite clean and, aside from the fact that the temperature during the home inspection was only just shy of what it must feel like on the surface of the sun, the visit went extremely well.
Apparently we passed our home visit.
We passed!
Chris and I are breathing huge sighs of relief.
Relief!
Have I mentioned that we passed??? That M said this seemed like it would be a great place to raise a kid??? That she was impressed with the gardening we've done and the changes we've made to the house???
We passed!!!
So now we just have to get the rest of the paperwork done and submitted in the next three weeks or so.
(Oh yeah - and actually apply to the placement agency.)
We're one big step closer to bringing Schmoopie home.
14 August 2009
Motivated...
Chris is amazing.
I worked late last evening...a preview of my life for the next 4 months. It's "that time of year" in my work world.
I arrive home at 8:45 to find Chris downstairs at his desk.
"Whatcha up to?" I ask.
"Adoption stuff," he replies cheerfully.
One thing that I especially love about my husband is that when he's really "into" a project, he is so cheerful about it.
I can see from his computer screen that he has scanned his passport to make copies for our Plus One binder. He has apparently also scanned my passport. And made requests for our birth certificates. And re-read the list of stuff we need and informs me that certain documents require the preparer to sign and seal the documents in official envelopes and to sign across the envelope seal. And is planning to head to Portsmouth Town Hall the next day to get a copy of our marriage certificate.
"I think that we have extra copies of that," I say and within half a minute I produce the necessary marriage certificate copy.
Excellent.
One less trip for Chris or me.
And I actually participated, albeit very briefly, in some of today's adoption-related activity.
"Tomorrow I'll call the local police to see what we need to do to get our letters from them," Chris says.
My husband...a veritable whirlwind of adoption activity.
Bless his motivated little soul!
I take my somewhat less motivated soul and butt to the couch to watch an episode of "Clean House."
Pooped.
I worked late last evening...a preview of my life for the next 4 months. It's "that time of year" in my work world.
I arrive home at 8:45 to find Chris downstairs at his desk.
"Whatcha up to?" I ask.
"Adoption stuff," he replies cheerfully.
One thing that I especially love about my husband is that when he's really "into" a project, he is so cheerful about it.
I can see from his computer screen that he has scanned his passport to make copies for our Plus One binder. He has apparently also scanned my passport. And made requests for our birth certificates. And re-read the list of stuff we need and informs me that certain documents require the preparer to sign and seal the documents in official envelopes and to sign across the envelope seal. And is planning to head to Portsmouth Town Hall the next day to get a copy of our marriage certificate.
"I think that we have extra copies of that," I say and within half a minute I produce the necessary marriage certificate copy.
Excellent.
One less trip for Chris or me.
And I actually participated, albeit very briefly, in some of today's adoption-related activity.
"Tomorrow I'll call the local police to see what we need to do to get our letters from them," Chris says.
My husband...a veritable whirlwind of adoption activity.
Bless his motivated little soul!
I take my somewhat less motivated soul and butt to the couch to watch an episode of "Clean House."
Pooped.
31 July 2009
So what the heck is this "home-study" anyway?...
A great many people have been asking about the home-study.
What the heck is this thing?
"Home-study" is actually something of a misnomer since our social worker, M, will make a home visit, but what she is really studying is...
Us...
Chris.
And.
Me.
Who we are.
What we're like as a couple.
What we're like as individuals.
What we're thinking about adoption.
How we live.
Our beliefs, interests, and activities.
Chris actually wrote a great post about the home-study process on his blog 150 Steps. Check it out. It's very informative (and, of course, amusing.)
What the heck is this thing?
"Home-study" is actually something of a misnomer since our social worker, M, will make a home visit, but what she is really studying is...
Us...
Chris.
And.
Me.
Who we are.
What we're like as a couple.
What we're like as individuals.
What we're thinking about adoption.
How we live.
Our beliefs, interests, and activities.
Chris actually wrote a great post about the home-study process on his blog 150 Steps. Check it out. It's very informative (and, of course, amusing.)
05 July 2009
So much...part two
I've been reading several blogs written by Birth-mothers.
Why am I doing this?
It's hard. So hard to read these blogs...
So full of pain for the decisions they made, the children they gave up for adoption. So full of regrets, loss and sadness. And anger. Quite a few of them are so angry at Adoptive-mothers whose communications and updates about their adopted children dwindle or even cease altogether with the passing of time.
The Birth-Mothers write of too many broken promises in their lives.
So, why am I doing this? Reading these blogs?
Because I want to understand what it's like from the other side of the adoption table. A woman is going to relinquish her child to me and my husband. As such, I feel that I have a responsibility to understand or at least to try my best to understand and be mindful of her point of view -her perspective - her feelings - even her needs.
Can I just blithely think that some woman is going to hand over her child to me, walk away and never give that child another thought? That Chris and I and the Little One will just become a family and the Birth-mother will go away forever? Or that we will never hear from the Birth-father?
No.
Will I ever fully be able to grasp and be mindful of the sacrifice being made by our Birth-mother?
Probably not.
But I am going to try.
And so I am spending time reading the blogs of Birth-mothers and trying to understand and be mindful of what my role is in this process. How I can move forward as an Adoptive-mother in relation to the woman who is going to be responsible for allowing Chris and I to become Plus One - a family.
Chris and I have yet to determine the level of "openness" in our upcoming domestic adoption. I'm pretty sure that we have some long, challenging conversations ahead of us in this regard. There are major implications for everyone involved in our becoming Plus One - our child, Chris, me, our families, the Birth-parents and their families. Whatever level of openness we ultimately choose will affect all of us and how we move through the world for the rest of our lives.
It's a big decision.
It's a huge decision.
And so, for my part, I am information gathering. Reading, processing, questioning, and trying to understand so that I can work with Chris toward making an informed decision that feels good to us and takes into account the future needs of our Little One.
Unfortunately, no decision will be perfect and I imagine that all of us involved in this adoption will struggle at times. Still, we'll make our decisions - the Birth-mother to choose to place her baby and us on the level of openness with which we'll feel most comfortable - and move forward as best we can, hopefully in a thoughtful/mindful manner.
So much to consider...
Why am I doing this?
It's hard. So hard to read these blogs...
So full of pain for the decisions they made, the children they gave up for adoption. So full of regrets, loss and sadness. And anger. Quite a few of them are so angry at Adoptive-mothers whose communications and updates about their adopted children dwindle or even cease altogether with the passing of time.
The Birth-Mothers write of too many broken promises in their lives.
One Birth-mother's blog I found very interesting and inspiring - Coming Clean: Confessions of a Secret Birthmom - because of her unceasing efforts to try to reconnect with the Adoptive-mother of her child and to get to connect with the child she gave up for adoption 17 years ago. And doing so in a way that is amazingly sensitive to everyone involved. What I find so amazing in this blog in particular is that the Birth-mother, while certainly expressing her own grief and suffering as a result of giving her child up for adoption and of broken promises from the Adoptive-mother, she is also (whether she realizes it or not) quite sensitive to the Adoptive-mother's situation and feelings - trying to reason out in many posts why the Adoptive-mother is the way she is. This is one of the first Birth-mother blogs I have read in which the Birth-mother acknowledges the fears of the Adoptive-mother - not that this makes the situation any less difficult or painful for all of the players, but at least there is an attempt at understanding. It makes me wonder if the Adoptive-mother on the other end of the Birth-mother's e-mails is trying to understand the feelings of the Birth-mother. One can only hope...
So, why am I doing this? Reading these blogs?
Because I want to understand what it's like from the other side of the adoption table. A woman is going to relinquish her child to me and my husband. As such, I feel that I have a responsibility to understand or at least to try my best to understand and be mindful of her point of view -her perspective - her feelings - even her needs.
Can I just blithely think that some woman is going to hand over her child to me, walk away and never give that child another thought? That Chris and I and the Little One will just become a family and the Birth-mother will go away forever? Or that we will never hear from the Birth-father?
No.
Will I ever fully be able to grasp and be mindful of the sacrifice being made by our Birth-mother?
Probably not.
But I am going to try.
And so I am spending time reading the blogs of Birth-mothers and trying to understand and be mindful of what my role is in this process. How I can move forward as an Adoptive-mother in relation to the woman who is going to be responsible for allowing Chris and I to become Plus One - a family.
Chris and I have yet to determine the level of "openness" in our upcoming domestic adoption. I'm pretty sure that we have some long, challenging conversations ahead of us in this regard. There are major implications for everyone involved in our becoming Plus One - our child, Chris, me, our families, the Birth-parents and their families. Whatever level of openness we ultimately choose will affect all of us and how we move through the world for the rest of our lives.
It's a big decision.
It's a huge decision.
And so, for my part, I am information gathering. Reading, processing, questioning, and trying to understand so that I can work with Chris toward making an informed decision that feels good to us and takes into account the future needs of our Little One.
Unfortunately, no decision will be perfect and I imagine that all of us involved in this adoption will struggle at times. Still, we'll make our decisions - the Birth-mother to choose to place her baby and us on the level of openness with which we'll feel most comfortable - and move forward as best we can, hopefully in a thoughtful/mindful manner.
So much to consider...
02 July 2009
Strange blogging moment...
I turn on the computer this morning to check the blog and the stats website I use to track my visits. Admittedly, I have become one of those crazy bloggers who wants to know several times a day, "Who is visiting? Where from?"
It's kind of a rush to see that someone from Washington DC or as far away as New Zealand has visited.
Yes...I'm a blog dork.
So imagine my surprise this morning then when I discover that a number of people have found their way here via a CNN Online article entitled "Single Black Women Choosing to Adopt"
What the heck? How the heck? Huh?
I run upstairs to tell Chris the news. Even he is just a little impressed and says, "You should write a blog post about this."
So here I am again writing about this rather strange event.
I visit the article trying to figure out how my little blog has become attached to this article since - well - quite frankly - I am not black...
Apparently it's the "adoption" portion of my blog that is of interest because my post "Why Adoption?" had information that CNN deemed related. "In the present moment..." was the third listed in their "From the Blogs: Controversy, Commentary and Debate" link at the end of the article (and in the time that I have been writing this post has since been replaced by several other blogs with more recent posts on the subject.)
And even though I am not black, I hope that those of you who found your way to "In the present moment..." and the "Why Adoption?" post may have at least found information of interest and use. Thank you for taking the time to visit.
(And, yes, I am just a bit geeked that I was attached - however briefly - to a CNN article...)
It's kind of a rush to see that someone from Washington DC or as far away as New Zealand has visited.
Yes...I'm a blog dork.
So imagine my surprise this morning then when I discover that a number of people have found their way here via a CNN Online article entitled "Single Black Women Choosing to Adopt"
What the heck? How the heck? Huh?
I run upstairs to tell Chris the news. Even he is just a little impressed and says, "You should write a blog post about this."
So here I am again writing about this rather strange event.
I visit the article trying to figure out how my little blog has become attached to this article since - well - quite frankly - I am not black...
Apparently it's the "adoption" portion of my blog that is of interest because my post "Why Adoption?" had information that CNN deemed related. "In the present moment..." was the third listed in their "From the Blogs: Controversy, Commentary and Debate" link at the end of the article (and in the time that I have been writing this post has since been replaced by several other blogs with more recent posts on the subject.)
And even though I am not black, I hope that those of you who found your way to "In the present moment..." and the "Why Adoption?" post may have at least found information of interest and use. Thank you for taking the time to visit.
(And, yes, I am just a bit geeked that I was attached - however briefly - to a CNN article...)
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