Here's a hump day question for you. How did you decide what type of adoption is right for you? Open domestic was a no brainer for us the first time around. If there's a "next time," I'm not so sure it would be so cut and dry, though.
There have been several occurrences recently that have caused me to dip my toes into the internet in search of direction for a (very) hypothetical fifth family member. First, our little Henry is turning one in a few weeks. I simply can't believe it. As most moms can probably relate, when your little one hits the big number one, there's a wishy washy wave of sentimentality. The baby is unofficially gone and somewhere deep in the recesses of your head (or tick tick ticking baby maker), you may start wondering if that's truly "it."
Secondly, one of my closest friends recently found herself in the mothering way for the third time. Her other kids are 3.5 and 1.5. This was a surprise, but a darling one to be sure. Our oldest kids are total besties and once H catches up to her middle child, I'm sure they're going to tear the neighborhood apart together. Now I'm not saying I'm trying to keep up with the Jonses at all. But you know the madness that can take over when you're waving adios to your kid's baby stage and someone steps in with a soft little baby. It makes another one seem like a really good idea for a hot minute.
So here I am, at the internet researching all of my hypothetical options. I'm not too sure that three kids is right for our family. But I'm not 100% sure that two kids is the end for us either. Right now, we're still in the exhausted, overwhelmed stage of having a baby. And I think we're both in agreement that having another infant isn't for us. So that rules out open domestic adoption for right now (unless H's birth parents were to find themselves pregnant again, of course).
Next my thoughts went to adopting through the foster care system. But we don't want to disturb the birth order of our family. My research is limited, but from what I've found so far, it's hard to adopt toddlers or older babies through the system. So that would put having a third child on the back burner for as long as ten years. Side note: If you have experience going through the system, I'd love to hear about your experiences.
Our next option is international. This is looking more and more like the answer for us (except for the costs associated with it, which would be a struggle). I have a short list of countries I would consider adopting from, for personal reasons. Every time I look into international adoption, I get insanely overwhelmed with the amount of paperwork and waiting - as well as plagued with guilt for ignoring children, right here at home. But it's looking more and more like my next hypothetical child would come from an international adoption.
Now, of course this is all completely hypothetical. Right now, we're no where near making a decision about a third kiddo. But when it comes to family, I'm a planner. So this kind of obsessing is normal for me. If we do decide, one day, to expand our family, I want to be ready to jump right into the process.
On a super nutty side note, once every few months, I get the urge to throw all caution to the wind and just make a baby the old fashioned way. Then I remember that there's a 70% chance of shit hitting the fan again and I'm knocked back into reality. I'm passionate about adoption and believe in it, wholly. So adoption it is!
So that's where my head is this morning. And I know my husband is going to read this and freak out. Ha! No worries Neil... this is all hypothetical. I promise.
I would love some insight for people who have been there. How did you decide what kind of adoption would be right for you? If you chose international adoption, how did you decide on a country?
I don't know about where you are... but it's flipping freezing here today. I'm going to bundle the boys up soon and head out for a lunch date, downtown.We all need some fresh (albeit freezing) air.
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Question For You
Are you in the open adoption triad? How do you stay in touch with your birth family / adoptive family?
I recently created a blog for our birth family to read. Little H has a big birth family that we keep in touch with. There's the birth mother and father, her sister and mother and his two grown children. H has a big fan club and might be the most loved kid alive. For the first few months, I was emailing them (one big group email). But I thought it would be nicer for them to have a running script of his life and the pictures to go along with it. So I created a blog for them. It's not any easier or harder for me than sending an email. But it's more soothing for me, I think. Something about the routine calms me. And I think he'll get a kick out of reading it when he's older.
Side note: it's gotten me thinking about creating an email for W and emailing him now so Future W can read emails from his momma.
If you're in the adoption triad somewhere, I'd love to hear how you correspond with the other parties.
I recently created a blog for our birth family to read. Little H has a big birth family that we keep in touch with. There's the birth mother and father, her sister and mother and his two grown children. H has a big fan club and might be the most loved kid alive. For the first few months, I was emailing them (one big group email). But I thought it would be nicer for them to have a running script of his life and the pictures to go along with it. So I created a blog for them. It's not any easier or harder for me than sending an email. But it's more soothing for me, I think. Something about the routine calms me. And I think he'll get a kick out of reading it when he's older.
Side note: it's gotten me thinking about creating an email for W and emailing him now so Future W can read emails from his momma.
If you're in the adoption triad somewhere, I'd love to hear how you correspond with the other parties.
What if...
The husband and I were chatting recently about how nice it is to have two little ones. And how much fun they're going to have together. We feel like our family is complete. Sure, in the beginning, we talked about having three kids. But "having" three kids isn't as easy as we first considered. "Having" another kid for me would mean lots of bed rest and probable pre-eclampsia and prematurity et cetera. And another adoption would just be financially undo-able in the near future. We'll be paying off our adoption loans at the end of this year and it seems that in doing so, we'll be closing the book on familial expansion. And that's totally cool with us. We're happy and content with our perfect little boys.
But then I posed a hypothetical question that really got our minds reeling. What if H's birth mother were to become pregnant again? We believe that she would want to create an adoption plan for any future pregnancies. Would she and the birth father call our agency again? Would they want to keep the siblings together? God, I hope they would! But how would we come up with the means, financially, to tackle that situation? Would our agency be able to help us out in some way? Would they let something like a big, fat, lack of placement fee come between biological siblings? Can our house hold another child? Would our agency overlook the every-child-needs-their-own-bedroom rule? Could we afford another baby? Would having another baby put me over the sleep deprivation threshold (Little H is still waking up for a bottle in the night... at almost 9 months old. We joke that he'll still be waking up at 14 for a ham sandwich)? Questions, questions, questions. For every minute we let this hypothetical float above us, forty seven more questions and worries popped into our heads. I had to shake myself (read: shake myself actually means drink three glasses of wine) out of my tizzy, remind tizzy-me that it was just a hypothetical question and get a grip.
We talked about it a bit more and I think we decided (I say "think" because, as I said earlier, I drank quite a bit) that of course we'd joyously welcome any more babies into our home and we'd worry about the details later. But oye vey did I get myself worked up over it.
Deep in the recesses of my crazy brain, there's a little voice constantly reminding me of that big "what if." Sometimes it's crazy-eyed pulling it's hair out like a Cathy comic, but sometimes it's smiling and shopping for little dresses and tutus. I'm just sayin...
But then I posed a hypothetical question that really got our minds reeling. What if H's birth mother were to become pregnant again? We believe that she would want to create an adoption plan for any future pregnancies. Would she and the birth father call our agency again? Would they want to keep the siblings together? God, I hope they would! But how would we come up with the means, financially, to tackle that situation? Would our agency be able to help us out in some way? Would they let something like a big, fat, lack of placement fee come between biological siblings? Can our house hold another child? Would our agency overlook the every-child-needs-their-own-bedroom rule? Could we afford another baby? Would having another baby put me over the sleep deprivation threshold (Little H is still waking up for a bottle in the night... at almost 9 months old. We joke that he'll still be waking up at 14 for a ham sandwich)? Questions, questions, questions. For every minute we let this hypothetical float above us, forty seven more questions and worries popped into our heads. I had to shake myself (read: shake myself actually means drink three glasses of wine) out of my tizzy, remind tizzy-me that it was just a hypothetical question and get a grip.
We talked about it a bit more and I think we decided (I say "think" because, as I said earlier, I drank quite a bit) that of course we'd joyously welcome any more babies into our home and we'd worry about the details later. But oye vey did I get myself worked up over it.
Deep in the recesses of my crazy brain, there's a little voice constantly reminding me of that big "what if." Sometimes it's crazy-eyed pulling it's hair out like a Cathy comic, but sometimes it's smiling and shopping for little dresses and tutus. I'm just sayin...
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
I'm Told it's Ok to be Happy...
We met our birth parents today. We liked them and they liked us (*phew*) so it was deemed a success. We're going to get together again on Monday at a park by them so we can meet the baby and some of their immediate family members. I can NOT wait to meet this little dude. I'd like to say that I'll be graceful and respectful. But I'll probably dissolve into tears over love for the baby and grief for the birth family. I better stock up on stoic pills that morning.
We were told by our agency's social worker at the end of the meeting that we really have no reason to expect another disappointment. I'm trying very hard to hang onto those words. I'd love to be more excited and less nervous. Luckily, placement is going to be soon. Our social worker thinks it'll be early next week, definitely by Wednesday. And they're probably going to sign in NJ which means we can simply go home after placement. That would be divine! Dang you interstate compact bureaucracy bologna.
I'm so totally in love with my house full of boys. Boys are just the best.
I'm trying to enjoy all the almost-baby giddiness. I really am. It's still hard. At least I'll have one less thing to worry about soon. Friday is my last day of work. I love my company. I love my work friends and my employee discount. I'm highly tempted to bust out the credit card and grab this mushroom I've been eying for a year before my discount goes away. Stupid ridiculously overpriced completely useless but covetable mushroom pouf.
But I digress. I'm going to miss my job and more importantly, I'm going to miss working - bringing home some bacon for the family - contributing. I know raising two kids is no small feat, but it's not the same as providing. I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune come Memorial Day when our town's pool opens up. Hello beach and hello pool. Muahahahaha...
So, that's where we stand. Hopefully Neil and I can sneak away this weekend to watch the Hunger Games (nerds!) before it's all baby all the time.
Keep your fingers crossed for us. We're not out of the woods yet... but we're getting close. I can almost smell baby head from here.
We were told by our agency's social worker at the end of the meeting that we really have no reason to expect another disappointment. I'm trying very hard to hang onto those words. I'd love to be more excited and less nervous. Luckily, placement is going to be soon. Our social worker thinks it'll be early next week, definitely by Wednesday. And they're probably going to sign in NJ which means we can simply go home after placement. That would be divine! Dang you interstate compact bureaucracy bologna.
I'm so totally in love with my house full of boys. Boys are just the best.
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So, that's where we stand. Hopefully Neil and I can sneak away this weekend to watch the Hunger Games (nerds!) before it's all baby all the time.
Keep your fingers crossed for us. We're not out of the woods yet... but we're getting close. I can almost smell baby head from here.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Stuck in Maybe-Baby Limbo is the Pits
Here we go again. We got a call on Thursday from our dear social worker. There was a birth mother and birth father with a three month old that were looking to make an adoption plan and did we want to be considered for it. It turns out, we were the only people in our program to agree to be shown to her, due to the nature of her medical background (more on my feelings towards this later). She's taking the weekend and Monday to decide with her family and the birth father that placing with us is the right thing to do. So we could have a possible placement on Wednesday. Holy balls! We were just starting to get over the last disappointment and now this.
I have coined this period of waiting to see if a baby comes home with us "maybe-baby." And you know what? Maybe-baby is really starting to take a toll on me. I can't take much more. If this situation doesn't work out, I'm going to need a few weeks without any baby drama.
This baby comes as a major surprise to us. We've only been shown to African American or biracial birth mothers to this point. We've been preparing for over a year now to be a trans racial family. This particular baby happens to be Caucasian and we were knocked off kilter a little by it. It's weird for two white people to have to prepare for a white baby. But that's what we're doing. More on this later, as well.
We haven't told many people about this situation. But I feel like to stay true to the process, I needed to comment on it here. I created this blog to help others in the same situation. And to help myself get through this excruciating Wait period. So dear friends, this could be the first post marking my descent into madness. Haha... ok, that's a little dramatic. But who knows, at this rate, a few more weeks here and there of maybe-baby could have me going bonkers for sure.
I also need to add that I am fully aware that no amount of anxiety I am feeling can come close to matching what the birth mother is feeling. I can't imagine the pain she is going through. My heart is with her (even though we haven't met yet) during this agonizing time and I hope that our profile is comforting to her. If I could speak to her right now, I'd like to tell her that if she decides to place, we will love and honor her forever as one of our own and she will be with us always as we raise this baby she has entrusted to us. He will always know who she is and how much she loves him. That's how we roll.
So peace and godspeed to her and her decision. We're here, ready and willing.
Wish us luck and hopefully we'll have a joyful update later this week.
I have coined this period of waiting to see if a baby comes home with us "maybe-baby." And you know what? Maybe-baby is really starting to take a toll on me. I can't take much more. If this situation doesn't work out, I'm going to need a few weeks without any baby drama.
This baby comes as a major surprise to us. We've only been shown to African American or biracial birth mothers to this point. We've been preparing for over a year now to be a trans racial family. This particular baby happens to be Caucasian and we were knocked off kilter a little by it. It's weird for two white people to have to prepare for a white baby. But that's what we're doing. More on this later, as well.
We haven't told many people about this situation. But I feel like to stay true to the process, I needed to comment on it here. I created this blog to help others in the same situation. And to help myself get through this excruciating Wait period. So dear friends, this could be the first post marking my descent into madness. Haha... ok, that's a little dramatic. But who knows, at this rate, a few more weeks here and there of maybe-baby could have me going bonkers for sure.
I also need to add that I am fully aware that no amount of anxiety I am feeling can come close to matching what the birth mother is feeling. I can't imagine the pain she is going through. My heart is with her (even though we haven't met yet) during this agonizing time and I hope that our profile is comforting to her. If I could speak to her right now, I'd like to tell her that if she decides to place, we will love and honor her forever as one of our own and she will be with us always as we raise this baby she has entrusted to us. He will always know who she is and how much she loves him. That's how we roll.
So peace and godspeed to her and her decision. We're here, ready and willing.
Wish us luck and hopefully we'll have a joyful update later this week.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Starting over isn't so bad
Since the baby was born and the father decided to parent, things haven't been too bad around these parts. We were busy with incredibly warm beach days, grown up get-a-ways and little W's third birthday. All of which have been excellent distractions.
Wednesday night we scrambled to throw together a last minute weekend getaway. We gave the boy and the dogs to my parents and we took off to the Finger Lakes in upstate New York. We went there for a short weekend about four or five years ago and we fell instantly in love with the area. We're just two soggy winos at heart and it was calling me back. Loudly.
This was a very healing trip. Our hotel was warm and luxurious (by our standards), our suite was about the size of our home (ha!), the porch was cathartic and the jacuzzi literally healed my (broken) bones.
On Saturday, we hired a chauffeur to take us around for the day to all the wineries on Seneca Lake. We got soggy and stupid by 5:00pm. And we bought a LOT of wine. Like, a serious lot. That's all I can really recant from that experience.
Sunday was a quick trip to Kauka Lake for a visit to a few vineyards before the long trip down to pick W up at my parents. And what trip to wine country would be complete without stopping at super classy Bully Hill?
The ancient memory of twenty three year old Lindsay that lives deep in my head, somewhere was reveling in all their cheap-wine-splendor. Once upon a time, many a night was spent with a bottle of Bully Hill in the crook of my arm. And of course I had to get a few bottles of Sweet Walter. Because, well, that's my Little W! And by late Sunday morning, we were really jonesing for our own sweet Walter.
By the time it was all said and done, we sloshed back down the highway with over three cases of wine of varying colors, flavors and fancy winey words we don't care to understand (seriously... you can't tell me the tannins of your table wine matter as you're downing Wegman's brand spaghetti in your sweatpants on a Tuesday).
Monday was our sweet W's third birthday. How that happened, I'll never know. He's been begging to go to the Franklin Institute to see the traveling dinosaur exhibit for weeks. So we took him there for his birthday. And it scared him to death. Like, little hands plastered over closed eyes the whole time, scared. I have to admit that the exhibit was pretty spooky. Lots of mood lighting and creepy noises gave it an eerie feeling.
So we showed him the rest of the FI, which he loved as much as I remember loving it as a kid. After a long walk down to Reading Terminal Market for his favorite food in the world (Amish pretzel dogs) and back, he decided that "the dinos weren't too scary and I'd like to try it again," which yielded the same, petrified results. Oh well. At least the kid tried. It was a good birthday, for sure. His favorite restaurant sang to him and he was up on an ice cream and present high until 10:15pm.
Now we're all home and our souls have been recharged and we're ready to jump back in and redo our home study and profile book et cetera et cetera. I can not wait to get The (next) Call. I'm so ready for W's little brother or sister. I'm not sobbing myself to sleep at night over this disruption, but I'm not 100% ok, either. I'm in a weird, emotional limbo place and I'm not sure how to express what I'm feeling. "It is what it is" is really the best way to describe it. I'd like to take some time and try to write through my feelings some more, but I'm not quite there yet, from an organizational stand point. I'll get there.
What I can take away from this experience right now is that I am an incredibly fortunate girl. I may have the most amazing husband in the world and my son is just the sweetest thing on two legs. What else can a girl ask for?
Wednesday night we scrambled to throw together a last minute weekend getaway. We gave the boy and the dogs to my parents and we took off to the Finger Lakes in upstate New York. We went there for a short weekend about four or five years ago and we fell instantly in love with the area. We're just two soggy winos at heart and it was calling me back. Loudly.
This was a very healing trip. Our hotel was warm and luxurious (by our standards), our suite was about the size of our home (ha!), the porch was cathartic and the jacuzzi literally healed my (broken) bones.
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| View from our hotel porch |
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| This is me after about eleventy billion glasses of wine. Mmm... wine |
The ancient memory of twenty three year old Lindsay that lives deep in my head, somewhere was reveling in all their cheap-wine-splendor. Once upon a time, many a night was spent with a bottle of Bully Hill in the crook of my arm. And of course I had to get a few bottles of Sweet Walter. Because, well, that's my Little W! And by late Sunday morning, we were really jonesing for our own sweet Walter.
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| Bully Hill: Giving Young Lindsay headaches since the year 2000 |
By the time it was all said and done, we sloshed back down the highway with over three cases of wine of varying colors, flavors and fancy winey words we don't care to understand (seriously... you can't tell me the tannins of your table wine matter as you're downing Wegman's brand spaghetti in your sweatpants on a Tuesday).
Monday was our sweet W's third birthday. How that happened, I'll never know. He's been begging to go to the Franklin Institute to see the traveling dinosaur exhibit for weeks. So we took him there for his birthday. And it scared him to death. Like, little hands plastered over closed eyes the whole time, scared. I have to admit that the exhibit was pretty spooky. Lots of mood lighting and creepy noises gave it an eerie feeling.
So we showed him the rest of the FI, which he loved as much as I remember loving it as a kid. After a long walk down to Reading Terminal Market for his favorite food in the world (Amish pretzel dogs) and back, he decided that "the dinos weren't too scary and I'd like to try it again," which yielded the same, petrified results. Oh well. At least the kid tried. It was a good birthday, for sure. His favorite restaurant sang to him and he was up on an ice cream and present high until 10:15pm.
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What I can take away from this experience right now is that I am an incredibly fortunate girl. I may have the most amazing husband in the world and my son is just the sweetest thing on two legs. What else can a girl ask for?
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Catharsis
Thank you, Global Warming for providing me with an unseasonably warm, tshirt/shorts/flip flops kind of day. It did wonders for what ailed me.
In the morning, W and I ran to our adoption agency to drop off checks for the updated home study (um hello salt in the wound!?) then we tossed a blanket, some fishies and juice boxes in my trusty old LL back pack and high tailed it down to the beach. I laid on the blanket and watched the waves roll in and W drove his trucks-du-jour through a maze of old tire tracks. We hunted for shells, dipped our toes in the frigid Atlantic and barrel rolled down the sandy dune hill (broken ribs and all). It was the definition of catharsis. The salt air helped to heal my wounds. I just wish Neil could have been there, too. But then again, someone needs to bring home the bacon.
My doctor, himself couldn't have prescribed anything better. I still smell like a mix of salt and SPF 50, and my hair's wonderfully unsalvageable.
I'm almost ready to go to work tomorrow and field the endless barrage of questions. GAH.
Ok, now I'm ready.
The best part about today is knowing that as awesome as it was, it's not going to be able to hold a candle to what we just planned for this weekend. Stay frosty, friends <insert some kind of winky emoticon here>.
In the morning, W and I ran to our adoption agency to drop off checks for the updated home study (um hello salt in the wound!?) then we tossed a blanket, some fishies and juice boxes in my trusty old LL back pack and high tailed it down to the beach. I laid on the blanket and watched the waves roll in and W drove his trucks-du-jour through a maze of old tire tracks. We hunted for shells, dipped our toes in the frigid Atlantic and barrel rolled down the sandy dune hill (broken ribs and all). It was the definition of catharsis. The salt air helped to heal my wounds. I just wish Neil could have been there, too. But then again, someone needs to bring home the bacon.
My doctor, himself couldn't have prescribed anything better. I still smell like a mix of salt and SPF 50, and my hair's wonderfully unsalvageable.
The best part about today is knowing that as awesome as it was, it's not going to be able to hold a candle to what we just planned for this weekend. Stay frosty, friends <insert some kind of winky emoticon here>.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Back to the drawing board
Well that wasn't totally unexpected.
D had the baby on Friday and didn't tell anyone. Her social worker had to track her down yesterday. From what I could gather, the birth father decided he wanted to parent in a very erratic manner and wouldn't let her contact her social worker(?). That's just what I could gather from a short phone call yesterday. We'll hopefully learn more today. The baby's set to be discharged today and we don't know to whom yet (definitely not us, though).
While I'm not throwing myself on the floor and wailing in despair, I'm pretty torn up about it all. That little person would have had everything he ever wanted with us. I'm trying not to judge the birth father too much, but it's just the facts that this kid's life is going to follow a grossly different trajectory now. And my heart breaks for him. Not for us... but for him.
That's really all I have to say about it right now. This kid's life is screwed and it doesn't need to be. The birth father is being selfish and stupid.Maybe I'll feel some sorrow for us as the healing process wears on, but right now, our feelings are the least of my concerns. I just can't believe that some low life can slink in and destroy this kid's life because he has biological bonds to him. It's just not fair. Ok, so maybe I'm judging him a little. But whatever. The wounds are fresh and still bleeding. I'm allowed a few snap judgements.
D had the baby on Friday and didn't tell anyone. Her social worker had to track her down yesterday. From what I could gather, the birth father decided he wanted to parent in a very erratic manner and wouldn't let her contact her social worker(?). That's just what I could gather from a short phone call yesterday. We'll hopefully learn more today. The baby's set to be discharged today and we don't know to whom yet (definitely not us, though).
While I'm not throwing myself on the floor and wailing in despair, I'm pretty torn up about it all. That little person would have had everything he ever wanted with us. I'm trying not to judge the birth father too much, but it's just the facts that this kid's life is going to follow a grossly different trajectory now. And my heart breaks for him. Not for us... but for him.
That's really all I have to say about it right now. This kid's life is screwed and it doesn't need to be. The birth father is being selfish and stupid.Maybe I'll feel some sorrow for us as the healing process wears on, but right now, our feelings are the least of my concerns. I just can't believe that some low life can slink in and destroy this kid's life because he has biological bonds to him. It's just not fair. Ok, so maybe I'm judging him a little. But whatever. The wounds are fresh and still bleeding. I'm allowed a few snap judgements.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
People Say the Darndest Things: Family Edition
I need to start this post by apologizing to any relatives who are offended by seeing your darndest thing in this or subsequent posts.
Maru over at Adoption Journey posted about silly things that people say regarding adoption once and it stuck with me. Now I'm finding that the further we get into our adoption journey, the more and more silly things we hear. I hope I have the organizational skills necessary to make note of all of them.
I'm not faulting people for lacking in adoption knowledge. Life is all about learning. But there's some people out there that just say really really stupid things. So when I have an urge to smack my forehead (or someone else's forehead, perhaps), I will abstain and make note to share it here with you, my dear friends. Because I'm sure you've heard it all, too.
A family member (that is biracial) let it slide that his wife was telling people that Lil' W can be "her's" because he's so white and baby #2 can be his (the biracial family member) because he's black.
I don't want to know who she said this to, or how many people she's been saying this to, or what else she's saying behind our back. But we're going to nip it in the bud quickly. Because differentiating between our children based on the color of their skin is holy unacceptable. And if that's the kind of treatment they're going to receive, they won't be visiting those family members anymore.
Another family member was shocked (shocked!) when she learned that our birth mother, D had other children. "Wait, was this baby an accident?!? Why did she keep other children children?" I gave her a dumbfounded look and said that yes, this baby was an accident. But the second part of her question didn't register until we were on our way home. And I had a serious OMG moment. As in, OMG she thinks we're buying a baby from some sort of professional baby maker! I was so embarrassed. If this seemingly sensible, college educated adult thinks this of us, what does everyone else think? Do people really think adoption works like that? What has Lifetime Movie Network done to us as a society!?
We've reached an all time high with the amount of consecutive times someone says "why" when they ask why she's "giving up her baby" (shudder). I usually just give a vague answer like, "because she's not in a place to parent a newborn baby right now." This is always followed by at least one "well, why". Dude. If I wanted to tell you, don't you think I would have just told you? So they ask why and I repeat my vague blanket statement. If they're really dense, they'll ask why again, to which I'll again repeat "because she's JUST NOT in a place to parent right now." By this point, most people give up. But not this time. This family member (the same one who thinks we're buying Meredith Baxter Birney's baby in a dark alley) asked why yet again. And I didn't really know what to say. So I just stared at her and shoved a bunch of cake in my face until she looked away. But in the future, I won't be caught so off guard and I'll explain that one day, baby #2 can share his story with everyone, but that's his story to tell and I don't feel comfortable going there.
I also need to make note of the fact that every time the news reports on a baby found somewhere in our area, I get several texts and facebook mesages to the likes of "I hope you get it!" Guh!
I know this is just the beginning of many many years of intrusive questions. And for the most part, I'm ok with that. Our family is going to look different than most other families and humans are inquisitive by nature. So people are going to ask about it. I'd actually prefer that people ask questions than assume outlandish things like the assumption that we're "buying" a baby. I hope by that point that I handle the questions with more grace and I hope to the sweet-lord-above that they don't ask stupid questions in front of my kids. 'Cause I will make them as uncomfortable as they just made me. I was actually thinking about stock piling intrusive vagina and birth questions to toss as people, should they get too personal with me. What say you? Too passive aggressive?
Maru over at Adoption Journey posted about silly things that people say regarding adoption once and it stuck with me. Now I'm finding that the further we get into our adoption journey, the more and more silly things we hear. I hope I have the organizational skills necessary to make note of all of them.
I'm not faulting people for lacking in adoption knowledge. Life is all about learning. But there's some people out there that just say really really stupid things. So when I have an urge to smack my forehead (or someone else's forehead, perhaps), I will abstain and make note to share it here with you, my dear friends. Because I'm sure you've heard it all, too.
A family member (that is biracial) let it slide that his wife was telling people that Lil' W can be "her's" because he's so white and baby #2 can be his (the biracial family member) because he's black.
I don't want to know who she said this to, or how many people she's been saying this to, or what else she's saying behind our back. But we're going to nip it in the bud quickly. Because differentiating between our children based on the color of their skin is holy unacceptable. And if that's the kind of treatment they're going to receive, they won't be visiting those family members anymore.
Another family member was shocked (shocked!) when she learned that our birth mother, D had other children. "Wait, was this baby an accident?!? Why did she keep other children children?" I gave her a dumbfounded look and said that yes, this baby was an accident. But the second part of her question didn't register until we were on our way home. And I had a serious OMG moment. As in, OMG she thinks we're buying a baby from some sort of professional baby maker! I was so embarrassed. If this seemingly sensible, college educated adult thinks this of us, what does everyone else think? Do people really think adoption works like that? What has Lifetime Movie Network done to us as a society!?
We've reached an all time high with the amount of consecutive times someone says "why" when they ask why she's "giving up her baby" (shudder). I usually just give a vague answer like, "because she's not in a place to parent a newborn baby right now." This is always followed by at least one "well, why". Dude. If I wanted to tell you, don't you think I would have just told you? So they ask why and I repeat my vague blanket statement. If they're really dense, they'll ask why again, to which I'll again repeat "because she's JUST NOT in a place to parent right now." By this point, most people give up. But not this time. This family member (the same one who thinks we're buying Meredith Baxter Birney's baby in a dark alley) asked why yet again. And I didn't really know what to say. So I just stared at her and shoved a bunch of cake in my face until she looked away. But in the future, I won't be caught so off guard and I'll explain that one day, baby #2 can share his story with everyone, but that's his story to tell and I don't feel comfortable going there.
I also need to make note of the fact that every time the news reports on a baby found somewhere in our area, I get several texts and facebook mesages to the likes of "I hope you get it!" Guh!
I know this is just the beginning of many many years of intrusive questions. And for the most part, I'm ok with that. Our family is going to look different than most other families and humans are inquisitive by nature. So people are going to ask about it. I'd actually prefer that people ask questions than assume outlandish things like the assumption that we're "buying" a baby. I hope by that point that I handle the questions with more grace and I hope to the sweet-lord-above that they don't ask stupid questions in front of my kids. 'Cause I will make them as uncomfortable as they just made me. I was actually thinking about stock piling intrusive vagina and birth questions to toss as people, should they get too personal with me. What say you? Too passive aggressive?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Limbo
We met our birth mother, D on Friday and it was a really nice experience. Her baby sitter fell through and she had to bring her two youngest children with her. So we decided to meet at a McDonalds with a playground instead of the original restaurant. I don't want this to come out the wrong way. Because to say it out loud sounds like I was "window shopping"... but her two young children were absolutely gorgeous. I couldn't help but make the correlation, staring into that little boy's eyes, that I might be staring at the same eyes our son will soon have. D was struggling with some personal problems, so our conversation didn't get as deep as I had hoped. But we still had a really lovely time. She asked us a few questions. But I wanted her to ask so much more! I was prepared to tell her so many things. But mostly she told us about her story. Which was both enlightening and heart breaking. I wanted to hug her and tell her I loved her (because I do. The moment this woman chose us to parent her baby, I was instantly and irreversibly in love with her) and I couldn't wait to get to know her better and share this precious little life with her. We gave her a picture of our family and she let us look at her ultrasounds, which was very special to me.
From speaking with our social worker, it sounds like she felt equally good about us. She was very comfortable with us and really seemed to love our family. I'm very grateful that our first meeting went so well and we have mutual respect for each other. But it brings me no closer to feeling like we'll definitely have a baby in 25 days. Because despite her apparent conviction that this adoption is going through, once she gives birth, and that warm little body is in her arms, anything could happen. And I'm VERY aware of that. So I'm still full of anxiety and worry and probably will be until those magic 72 hours are up.
Another problem I really wasn't anticipating has arisen, as well. I really didn't think I'd feel a connection with or love for this baby before he was born. Partially as a defense mechanism and partially because that's just my personality. But meeting her and seeing her children and seeing those ultrasounds has changed things. I'm in love with this child. And I feel VERY invested in and protective of his well being. So if D decides to parent this child, while I won't hate her for her decision, I will mourn the life he could have had with us. I'll forever wonder if he's had enough to eat that day, or if he got a christmas present or if he did well in school.
So that'll be the stuff rattling around in my head for the next few weeks.
On a happier and less stressful note, this past Friday was opening night of the musical and it was a wonderful distraction from all the baby stuff going on. It was a blast and I look forward to doing it again this coming weekend. I'll definitely be sad when it's over. We also got our new cabinets/sink last weekend. They're just what I wanted and I can't wait to get everything back to normal. We won't have our counter tops for two more weeks, so that means that much longer without running water. Yikes! Living without a kitchen sink is HARD! Silver lining is that we have a stove and when it's all said and done, we'll have a super sexy dishwasher, as well. I'm a quiver with anticipation.
From speaking with our social worker, it sounds like she felt equally good about us. She was very comfortable with us and really seemed to love our family. I'm very grateful that our first meeting went so well and we have mutual respect for each other. But it brings me no closer to feeling like we'll definitely have a baby in 25 days. Because despite her apparent conviction that this adoption is going through, once she gives birth, and that warm little body is in her arms, anything could happen. And I'm VERY aware of that. So I'm still full of anxiety and worry and probably will be until those magic 72 hours are up.
Another problem I really wasn't anticipating has arisen, as well. I really didn't think I'd feel a connection with or love for this baby before he was born. Partially as a defense mechanism and partially because that's just my personality. But meeting her and seeing her children and seeing those ultrasounds has changed things. I'm in love with this child. And I feel VERY invested in and protective of his well being. So if D decides to parent this child, while I won't hate her for her decision, I will mourn the life he could have had with us. I'll forever wonder if he's had enough to eat that day, or if he got a christmas present or if he did well in school.
So that'll be the stuff rattling around in my head for the next few weeks.
On a happier and less stressful note, this past Friday was opening night of the musical and it was a wonderful distraction from all the baby stuff going on. It was a blast and I look forward to doing it again this coming weekend. I'll definitely be sad when it's over. We also got our new cabinets/sink last weekend. They're just what I wanted and I can't wait to get everything back to normal. We won't have our counter tops for two more weeks, so that means that much longer without running water. Yikes! Living without a kitchen sink is HARD! Silver lining is that we have a stove and when it's all said and done, we'll have a super sexy dishwasher, as well. I'm a quiver with anticipation.
Monday, January 30, 2012
I think I Preferred the Other Wait More
We've had four days to get use to the idea that a baby will be here in about forty four days. We're getting all his furniture together and have a small stock pile of necessities in case he comes early. We're set. I basically ran around the baby section of Target squealing for 25 minutes. Then I can across the preemie clothes section and I held a tiny onesie up to W and remembered how he use to swim in it and so started the waterworks. In the middle of the store. Super classy...
I wouldn't be so stressed if I didn't have the musical hanging over my head. Oh yeah, and we're having work done on our kitchen in two weeks. It'll only take a week, but it's just one more thing adding onto the pile of stress. Getting this done before the baby comes home is imperative because our hundred year old plaster wall is crumbling apart and we don't have a dishwasher. Seeing as this kid is going to be 100% bottle fed, a dish washer is a necessary upgrade. Yeah, we don't currently have a dishwasher. Our house is insanely old and the kitchen is all original. It's very quaint and charming, but it's 2012 and momma needs a dishwasher.
Then, on top of all of this stress is the Big Worry. Is the birth mom going to change her mind? What if, when we meet she doesn't jive with us and she decides to parent or have someone in her family adopt the baby instead? I'm plagued with worry. We have this kid's furniture. We have a name for him. What if he doesn't come home with us?
What if he doesn't come home with us? I have fortysome days to obsess over this. Grand...
I wouldn't be so stressed if I didn't have the musical hanging over my head. Oh yeah, and we're having work done on our kitchen in two weeks. It'll only take a week, but it's just one more thing adding onto the pile of stress. Getting this done before the baby comes home is imperative because our hundred year old plaster wall is crumbling apart and we don't have a dishwasher. Seeing as this kid is going to be 100% bottle fed, a dish washer is a necessary upgrade. Yeah, we don't currently have a dishwasher. Our house is insanely old and the kitchen is all original. It's very quaint and charming, but it's 2012 and momma needs a dishwasher.
Then, on top of all of this stress is the Big Worry. Is the birth mom going to change her mind? What if, when we meet she doesn't jive with us and she decides to parent or have someone in her family adopt the baby instead? I'm plagued with worry. We have this kid's furniture. We have a name for him. What if he doesn't come home with us?
What if he doesn't come home with us? I have fortysome days to obsess over this. Grand...
Friday, January 27, 2012
One Ringy Dingy
Well hot diggity... We got The Call.
The woman who was checking out our profile last week chose us. We're over the moon excited about this turn of events. So much so, I'll be recapping the last 36 hours in bullet form.
- I was at work when I got the call. I ran over to my boss because I had to tell her before I could get on the phone and make enough noise out of my mouth hole to tell Neil the news.I toyed with the idea of breaking the news to him in a big reveal type style. But that's not really how we roll. So I picked up the horn and told him point black.
-We ran right over to our agency's office and jammed a cheeseburger (bribery of choice this week) in front of Lil' W to keep him content while we signed all the paperwork. We read all about D, the birth mother and learned all about her. I took an immediate liking to her. I can't WAIT to meet her! We also learned that I will be completely and utterly outnumbered as the only female (human) inhabitant of out house for quite some time. It's another awesome little boy for us!
- I swear I'm not lying when I say I felt an instant connection with this woman's story. From the moment we were asked if we wanted to be shown to her, I knew this was our situation.. I don't believe in signs, but I do believe in feelings and I just had a feeling - deep in my spine. This was the first situation that we were informed of that I really got my hopes up for. And lookie how it turned out!
- We went public with this information pretty much right away.We partially fear (as I'm sure everyone does at this stage in the game) that she'll change her mind and we'll have to un-tell everyone. But you know what? So What?!?! We were robbed of so many happy big announcement moments with W's scary birth. So we're reveling in the good and hoping for the best. If she does change her mind, we'll be supportive and happy for her and her beautiful baby boy. And yes, I'll un-tell all the people I told with my head held high.
- Baby Boy 2.0 is due mid-March (approx 47 days away, if you're counting) so we're in zomgscramble mode now. Yes, I said ZOMG. Deal.
- This weekend will be a whirling dervish of Home Depot and Ikea and Target and Babies R Us. And I'm loving every second of it. If I could run up and down the street screaming at the top of my lungs, I would. In fact, I'm surprised how cool and collected I've been on the outside. The inside is a mess of nerves and emotions and I need to drink more wine to settle things down. *gulp*
I'm sure I'll be back with more complex feelings and ideas and really deep thoughts a little later, but right now, this best explains how I feel:
The woman who was checking out our profile last week chose us. We're over the moon excited about this turn of events. So much so, I'll be recapping the last 36 hours in bullet form.
- I was at work when I got the call. I ran over to my boss because I had to tell her before I could get on the phone and make enough noise out of my mouth hole to tell Neil the news.I toyed with the idea of breaking the news to him in a big reveal type style. But that's not really how we roll. So I picked up the horn and told him point black.
-We ran right over to our agency's office and jammed a cheeseburger (bribery of choice this week) in front of Lil' W to keep him content while we signed all the paperwork. We read all about D, the birth mother and learned all about her. I took an immediate liking to her. I can't WAIT to meet her! We also learned that I will be completely and utterly outnumbered as the only female (human) inhabitant of out house for quite some time. It's another awesome little boy for us!
- I swear I'm not lying when I say I felt an instant connection with this woman's story. From the moment we were asked if we wanted to be shown to her, I knew this was our situation.. I don't believe in signs, but I do believe in feelings and I just had a feeling - deep in my spine. This was the first situation that we were informed of that I really got my hopes up for. And lookie how it turned out!
- We went public with this information pretty much right away.We partially fear (as I'm sure everyone does at this stage in the game) that she'll change her mind and we'll have to un-tell everyone. But you know what? So What?!?! We were robbed of so many happy big announcement moments with W's scary birth. So we're reveling in the good and hoping for the best. If she does change her mind, we'll be supportive and happy for her and her beautiful baby boy. And yes, I'll un-tell all the people I told with my head held high.
- Baby Boy 2.0 is due mid-March (approx 47 days away, if you're counting) so we're in zomgscramble mode now. Yes, I said ZOMG. Deal.
- This weekend will be a whirling dervish of Home Depot and Ikea and Target and Babies R Us. And I'm loving every second of it. If I could run up and down the street screaming at the top of my lungs, I would. In fact, I'm surprised how cool and collected I've been on the outside. The inside is a mess of nerves and emotions and I need to drink more wine to settle things down. *gulp*
I'm sure I'll be back with more complex feelings and ideas and really deep thoughts a little later, but right now, this best explains how I feel:
Monday, January 23, 2012
Says Who?
I saw the strangest thing on tv last night. I was watching a show called Taboo (I think). It was documenting peoples' outlandish habits. Apparently there's a subculture of women out there who carry around baby dolls like they're their own babies. Hey, who am I to judge? It's not nearly as strange to me as the woman who married the Eiffel Tower or the woman who left her husband, the Berlin Wall for a common garden fence. But (if I can be judgy for a minute) it's pretty close.
The fact that these women fill a hole by carrying around super creepy dolls like they're real children doesn't bother me. What got me hot and bothered was the narrator. At the end, during the recap, the narrator says in a real sad voice, "Fate has determined that these women could never have children..." In this age of so many choices when it comes to infertility, why did these women (and their consenting husbands) turn to super creepy piles of plastic to fill their mothering needs?
It really got me thinking. Why isn't adoption an option for people? And how many people that can't "have" children don't see adoption as an option? Does the trepidation fall in the man's lap or the woman's? I know everyone has their own opinion, but it was just such a natural decision for us. I listened to nature. Having W almost killed both of us. So when the conversation of having more kids came up (I remember specifically having this conversation. We were still in the NICU with W), I said "I'm not doing this again. It's too risky. Lets adopt the rest of our babies." My husband looked and me, thought for a second and said "Ok, lets." Done and done. The conversation was as natural as if I asked if he wanted a reuben for lunch.
I know that everyone has a different point of view, but I have a hard time seeing how "fate deciding women can't bear children" makes them see that carrying a doll around is the only answer. I wish I could watch theirdescent into madness story to see how they arrived at this behavior. It fascinates me to no end.
Do you know someone who feels/felt adoption wasn't an option for them? Or do you maybe have a family member that doesn't agree with your decision? Are there people out there who see adoption as unnatural as carrying around a plastic doll? I'd love to hear your opinions/experiences. We met very little hesitation (to our faces) when we told people we were adopting, aside from normal fears drawn from not knowing the process.
The fact that these women fill a hole by carrying around super creepy dolls like they're real children doesn't bother me. What got me hot and bothered was the narrator. At the end, during the recap, the narrator says in a real sad voice, "Fate has determined that these women could never have children..." In this age of so many choices when it comes to infertility, why did these women (and their consenting husbands) turn to super creepy piles of plastic to fill their mothering needs?
It really got me thinking. Why isn't adoption an option for people? And how many people that can't "have" children don't see adoption as an option? Does the trepidation fall in the man's lap or the woman's? I know everyone has their own opinion, but it was just such a natural decision for us. I listened to nature. Having W almost killed both of us. So when the conversation of having more kids came up (I remember specifically having this conversation. We were still in the NICU with W), I said "I'm not doing this again. It's too risky. Lets adopt the rest of our babies." My husband looked and me, thought for a second and said "Ok, lets." Done and done. The conversation was as natural as if I asked if he wanted a reuben for lunch.
I know that everyone has a different point of view, but I have a hard time seeing how "fate deciding women can't bear children" makes them see that carrying a doll around is the only answer. I wish I could watch their
Do you know someone who feels/felt adoption wasn't an option for them? Or do you maybe have a family member that doesn't agree with your decision? Are there people out there who see adoption as unnatural as carrying around a plastic doll? I'd love to hear your opinions/experiences. We met very little hesitation (to our faces) when we told people we were adopting, aside from normal fears drawn from not knowing the process.
Friday, January 20, 2012
A Call, not The Call might be the hardest part
We got A Call yesterday. Our social worker from our agency wanted to present us to someone but our profiles didn't quite match. So she had to run it by us before giving the ok to show our profile. This has happened several times to us and each time brings a unique rush of emotions. I've done a really good job of not getting excited for any of them. But there's something about this one that's really sticking with me. Something about the birth mother's story grabbed my heart. And the birth father is still around, so to speak. So the baby could have a chance to know both of his/her first parents. And the most silly reason this situation resonates with me is because the baby is due in March. All of our birthdays fall in a five week March to April span in this house and we call it our birthday season. It's like having a month long birthday party and we love it. It's just a silly tradition but I can't help but take it as a sign.
I'm not expecting to be chosen by this birth mother. The odds are generally not in our favor. But I can't help going against better judgment in hoping she does. There's just something about this situation that latched onto my heart. It's the first one I will be truly sad about not being matched with. We're being presented this morning, so my fingers are crossed.
Knowing that we're being presented to birth mothers makes The Wait so much harder. We're always being shown to "someone." Last month for instance, we were shown to three birth mothers. And that's awesome. But KNOWING that someone is looking at us causes so much more stress.
So off I go on my day, trying hard to not look like a frazzled Cathy Comic frame. And trying unsuccessfully to not think about adding another super awesome birthday to our nonstop birthday extravaganza month.
I'm not expecting to be chosen by this birth mother. The odds are generally not in our favor. But I can't help going against better judgment in hoping she does. There's just something about this situation that latched onto my heart. It's the first one I will be truly sad about not being matched with. We're being presented this morning, so my fingers are crossed.
Knowing that we're being presented to birth mothers makes The Wait so much harder. We're always being shown to "someone." Last month for instance, we were shown to three birth mothers. And that's awesome. But KNOWING that someone is looking at us causes so much more stress.
So off I go on my day, trying hard to not look like a frazzled Cathy Comic frame. And trying unsuccessfully to not think about adding another super awesome birthday to our nonstop birthday extravaganza month.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
From the Mouths of Babes
Little W is still sick and relegated to the couch. But the only way to keep him convalescing quietly is to rot his brain with cartoons which I'm not too keen on, but it's a small victory. He was just fully engulfed in Dinosaur Train (which I actually really like) when he kind of stopped staring slack-jaw at the tv, walked over to me and said (not quite so eloquently) That Buddy doesn't look like his brothers or sister but they're still a family. It was actually was more like, "Buddy's orange and Tiny's green and they're sisters." So I might be making a stretch in my assumption that he fully grasps the idea that family comes in all forms and love is love, regardless et cetera, but it doesn't matter. He has melted my weary heart into a big, sloppy puddle. Anyone have a mop?
*sobs*
*sobs*
 |
| Thank you, Dinosaur Train |
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Waiting Game that is Adoption
I had a whole post planned this morning about some of the bright and shiny things I was planning on getting for baby#2's room. Then my cell phone rang and that whole train of thought and a few beats of my heart flew out the window. I don't know if it's this way for all waiting adoptive families, but every time my cell phone rings, my heart skips a few beats. It's in my pocket or in my hand every second of the day. And it makes me crazy. I mean, my actual phone doesn't make me crazy. I have a deep love for my iphone. But The Wait drives me crazy. Seriously crazy.
 | |||||||
| RING, DANGIT!!! |
But that doesn't mean I don't have moments of unflattering spazz-out-titude when my phone rings and I'm not in the same room as it and I push people out of my way like a linebacker to get to it before it goes to voicemail (nevermind the fact that it's the Red Cross looking to take my blood like, 80% of the time). It's not attractive but it does provide a wee bit of comic relief to those watching. So there's a silver lining, I guess.
So if anyone ever reads this blog, I'd love to hear some stories about your Wait. It's such a unique experience and I have to assume that there's other people out there who have done silly things like upturning a sleeping dog to get to their cell phone in time (why did my darling W decide that mommy's phone belonged in our dog's bed anyhoo?).
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
A New Deal
There are a few sayings in this world that make me want to gouge my eyes out. Like "natural flavor" and when people call Disney World simply, "Disney." Yuck. But nothing pisses me off more than the saying "mommy blog." It makes my ears hot and makes me want to learn how the internet works so I can destroy it with fire. So this little project is NOT a mommy blog. I'm a mom and I have a story and I'm putting it in a blog. Ugh... it's unavoidable, isn't it? Lets try to think of something cooler and less cliche than mommy blog. Hm... I'll have to think about that one.
So, what's my story? In a nutshell, I'm a mom and a wife. The wife part of the story is happy and normal. We love, we laugh, we made a family... all the things that look nice in a picture frame. But the mom part... well that's where my story lies. I have one biological son with an interesting birth story (of the micro preemie variety) and we're currently waiting very patiently (or not so patiently) for baby#2 by way of open, domestic adoption. I'm very proud of the family I'm growing and I feel like my journey could possibly be helpful.
I'm not an expert on anything. I'm melodramatic and goofy and scatter brained. I just feel a need to share my journey in hopes that it'll help someone else... somewhere... maybe.
So this might be a short lived experiment. It's mostly just a therapy session for me to get through these trying moths of waiting for baby#2 to drop out of the sky and into my waiting arms. It's highly likely that this will never be read by anyone other than myself. And that's ok too. Because when my babies are grown and making their own babies, they'll see that I was completely hapless and clueless and in constant fear of sending everyone in my care screaming into the therapist's office. And that's ok, because we're all just making it up as we go.
So... nice to meet you.
So, what's my story? In a nutshell, I'm a mom and a wife. The wife part of the story is happy and normal. We love, we laugh, we made a family... all the things that look nice in a picture frame. But the mom part... well that's where my story lies. I have one biological son with an interesting birth story (of the micro preemie variety) and we're currently waiting very patiently (or not so patiently) for baby#2 by way of open, domestic adoption. I'm very proud of the family I'm growing and I feel like my journey could possibly be helpful.
I'm not an expert on anything. I'm melodramatic and goofy and scatter brained. I just feel a need to share my journey in hopes that it'll help someone else... somewhere... maybe.
So this might be a short lived experiment. It's mostly just a therapy session for me to get through these trying moths of waiting for baby#2 to drop out of the sky and into my waiting arms. It's highly likely that this will never be read by anyone other than myself. And that's ok too. Because when my babies are grown and making their own babies, they'll see that I was completely hapless and clueless and in constant fear of sending everyone in my care screaming into the therapist's office. And that's ok, because we're all just making it up as we go.
So... nice to meet you.
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