We are in the midst of working on adoption paperwork. It's not as bad as I always thought it would be, but it is still a lot of detailed information. Of course, I would rather be asked repetitive, sometimes pointless sounding questions than to know they would let just anyone adopt. We have been going to a coffeeshop on Saturdays to work on paperwork and it's actually been a little fun! We need to crack down on it soon, but for now it's not so bad. We are also reading a lot of adoption books. I'll post a book list here in a few weeks. They are really helping us to see from different perspective of the adoption triad. That's the term they use to talk about the three central parties in adoption- the child, the birth mom, and the adoptive parent(s).
It's really hard for this to seem real to me and to have hope that we will get a child, but I'm trying to act out of the desire to move forward and not my fear that this will end like our infertility journey did. Charlie actually has been much more hopeful in this process and has been an encouragement to me.
Even while going through this process I constantly feel the need to stop and grieve the loss of having birth children. I don't want to dishonor our struggles and pain of the last few years by skipping ahead to the hope of adoptive kids, and I don't ever want to put the weight of all of that on an adoptive child. I want to be able to look at them and see only them- their individuality, their personality, their little person-hood! I don't want to suddenly be confronted by the overwhelming loss of birth kids. That's why I am trying to grieve as I go- to take moments to let the grief flood over me, to cry with my friends, to hold the little onesie my sister gave me during our infertility struggles and just hurt for a bit.
I know I am going to love this little baby, whoever they end up being. I know that the second I even hear about their existence I'm going to fall totally in love. It's not something I'm worried about, honestly. I know Charlie is going to become this protective, fiercely tender Father the second he sees that baby.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
11/23/14
Thinking through adoption issues, some of the biggest ones I have tripped up on is the complexity of bringing someone of another ethnicity into a white family. I have suddenly become incredibly aware of the homogenous nature of my community and realize that regardless of the race of our future child, I need to take a hard look at myself, what influences me, and the people around me. Maybe it's time to try to take active steps toward allowing some other voices to speak into my life.
One of the first things that made me think of this was a sewing student I had recently who is a black woman and who very passionately and honestly tried to communicate to me what it has been like for her growing in the U.S. with that identity. I can't even begin to attempt to communicate what she told me, but her beauty and courage in speaking about that to me made me suddenly deeply aware of how little I know and how much I take for granted. I am trying to learn, slowly, to be more aware of what is happening around me.
The following is just a beginner's list of the things I have realized I am entitled to, simply because of traits about myself that I can't help.
Privileges I was born with:
1. Being born in a country and a time where being a woman doesn't mean I can only either marry young, be a drain on my family, or be a prostitute.
2. Being able to read and receive an incredible education and all the doors it has opened over me.
3. Being white and never knowing what discrimination based on race toward myself looks like.
4. Being of Jewish descent and yet living in a place and time where I have not experienced discrimination because of it.
5. Being born into a family where I never had to fear starvation or homelessness.
6. Never having to experience sexual or physical abuse.
7. Living in a two parent home with my birth parents.
8. Having my education paid for.
9. Being born speaking the world's most powerful language.
10. Being born into a country with power that fears few threats.
11. Being born a gender and color that means few automatically fear my presence.
12. Being born with access to good nutrition and exercise.
This is not denying the real challenges I have faced being a woman in the community I was raised in and even in this country, but it is realizing that comparatively, I hit the privilege jack pot as far as demographics is concerned.
One of the first things that made me think of this was a sewing student I had recently who is a black woman and who very passionately and honestly tried to communicate to me what it has been like for her growing in the U.S. with that identity. I can't even begin to attempt to communicate what she told me, but her beauty and courage in speaking about that to me made me suddenly deeply aware of how little I know and how much I take for granted. I am trying to learn, slowly, to be more aware of what is happening around me.
The following is just a beginner's list of the things I have realized I am entitled to, simply because of traits about myself that I can't help.
Privileges I was born with:
1. Being born in a country and a time where being a woman doesn't mean I can only either marry young, be a drain on my family, or be a prostitute.
2. Being able to read and receive an incredible education and all the doors it has opened over me.
3. Being white and never knowing what discrimination based on race toward myself looks like.
4. Being of Jewish descent and yet living in a place and time where I have not experienced discrimination because of it.
5. Being born into a family where I never had to fear starvation or homelessness.
6. Never having to experience sexual or physical abuse.
7. Living in a two parent home with my birth parents.
8. Having my education paid for.
9. Being born speaking the world's most powerful language.
10. Being born into a country with power that fears few threats.
11. Being born a gender and color that means few automatically fear my presence.
12. Being born with access to good nutrition and exercise.
This is not denying the real challenges I have faced being a woman in the community I was raised in and even in this country, but it is realizing that comparatively, I hit the privilege jack pot as far as demographics is concerned.
12/19/14
Our agency interview is tonight. So many emotions. Sorrow, anxiety, nervousness, and this overwhelming longing for them to see what the people close to us can see--that we love kids and we will be fiercely loving and devoted parents. I know I mess up big. I do, and I need to change. Can you help me find the balance between changing and moving into a place of guilt and shame and striving. Something is coming, something is shifting, and I want to be ready. Drive me to movement...let my heart drum speed up so I can dance and play out of this place. Let me move toward the world and the things I fear. I love you.
12/16
Papa, on 12/13 we decided to pursue adoption through CPO. There are so many unknowns and I find myself wavering between fear, sadness, and excitement. I want this to be fun and only good, but it's so hard. Someone else is going to hopefully get unexpectedly pregnant with my child...it's weird, and messy, and sad...and maybe beautiful too.
My life is so strange to me. I have spent so long waiting for things to change. Please don't let adoption be like that for us. Help us keep living in the in-between.
God, let there be a child for us, but let his/her mom make the best choice they can. Protect her, guard her, and hold her heart. I don't want anyone to go through trauma so that I can have a baby, but thankfully, I don't think you work that way. I need your arms around me today. Give me wisdom and peace, even in the midst of pain.
My life is so strange to me. I have spent so long waiting for things to change. Please don't let adoption be like that for us. Help us keep living in the in-between.
God, let there be a child for us, but let his/her mom make the best choice they can. Protect her, guard her, and hold her heart. I don't want anyone to go through trauma so that I can have a baby, but thankfully, I don't think you work that way. I need your arms around me today. Give me wisdom and peace, even in the midst of pain.
12/08/14
I can be content-almost happy until I hear some pregnancy news. I can see my future spread and even feel excited and hopeful...but then I wake up and my first awareness is that I got a notification of someone posting pregnancy pictures to Facebook and I am overwhelmed by sorrow, anger, and hurt. I cry with my husband that this is not fair and that you have abandoned us.
These words keep spinning in my head from one of my favorite Patty Griffin songs.
"Sometimes time can slip away as fast
These words keep spinning in my head from one of my favorite Patty Griffin songs.
"Sometimes time can slip away as fast
As any fingers through your hands...
So you let time forgive the past and go and make some other plans."
That's what I'm trying to believe: that time will help us forgive the past.
I want a baby. I know it will not make the aching stop, or make our lives easier, I am just ready. I feel so confused as to why my twenties have been so hard so far. So much has happened. I don't know Papa. Maybe I never will. Just hold my heart, okay? Help me, because I am lost. I'm afraid, and so full of longing, and still so tired.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
11/21/14
How long O Lord?
How long will I be tired, sad, and lazy? How long do I have to sit in ashes? I don't want to rush my grief, but how do I comfortably sit in the dirt? This is not who I want to be…but I also don't want to turn my back on my heart and watch it shrink into shadow, bitter, silent, and cold. At least when I cry I feel alive.
Silence, a reaching for more. A recognition of my shadow self's desire for self-gratification. A questioning of my own desires and heart. I need to know who I am and who I want to be before I put that on children, especially adopted ones. I know it's a journey, but I need to start.
Holy One…Beautiful Grandmother spinning the moon in your tower. Collecting the strands of myself and gently guiding my hands to attempt to weave them into a whole. Don't leave me. I love you.
How long will I be tired, sad, and lazy? How long do I have to sit in ashes? I don't want to rush my grief, but how do I comfortably sit in the dirt? This is not who I want to be…but I also don't want to turn my back on my heart and watch it shrink into shadow, bitter, silent, and cold. At least when I cry I feel alive.
Silence, a reaching for more. A recognition of my shadow self's desire for self-gratification. A questioning of my own desires and heart. I need to know who I am and who I want to be before I put that on children, especially adopted ones. I know it's a journey, but I need to start.
Holy One…Beautiful Grandmother spinning the moon in your tower. Collecting the strands of myself and gently guiding my hands to attempt to weave them into a whole. Don't leave me. I love you.
11/16/14
Breathe, small one.
There is such ragged beauty buried in you. Beaten and tested, but never broken. Hear your Lover, your wild, raucous Bartender calling "Drinks on me!" Go! Drink from his leaking barrel. No more sin in him…no more shame. Only present comfort. Yes, you are still surrounded by the aftershocks of this disaster. You look around and everyone you see is damaged and in such great pain. The world turns a blind eye to our rage and our mistreatment and we must rage agains it in order to create space for our grief within our society. Pain breeds ache births longing births movement toward more. Remember who you are, holy divine small one. Oh you beautiful ass. Trust that where you are going is somewhere good.
There is such ragged beauty buried in you. Beaten and tested, but never broken. Hear your Lover, your wild, raucous Bartender calling "Drinks on me!" Go! Drink from his leaking barrel. No more sin in him…no more shame. Only present comfort. Yes, you are still surrounded by the aftershocks of this disaster. You look around and everyone you see is damaged and in such great pain. The world turns a blind eye to our rage and our mistreatment and we must rage agains it in order to create space for our grief within our society. Pain breeds ache births longing births movement toward more. Remember who you are, holy divine small one. Oh you beautiful ass. Trust that where you are going is somewhere good.
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