Showing posts with label Stages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stages. Show all posts

Monday, January 12, 2009

Thougths at Twelve Months (or Fifteen Months, or Nine Years) Waiting; Ramblings from Crazytown.

Settle in, get yourself something to drink. It's a long one.

To begin...
I am fully committed to my adoption. It is the single most important thing (next to my current family) in my life. If for some reason I couldn't do it, I would be devastated.


I have found, as many of you wise women mentioned after the Six Months Post, that these stages repeat themselves. So, here they are again, with a few additions. I am having trouble differentiating between what may be typical stages of grief, and what may be typical stages of waiting during an international adoption. If you are new to this blog, and want to know what we are grieving about, just search this blog with the word 'Chris.'

You guys don't need the Kubler-Ross graph again do you? I didn't think so.

Here are what I think have been my stages of waiting . It has been six fifteen months since we applied to adopt two small children from Ethiopia. As of January 10th, we have been 'officially waiting' for one full year ( if you don't know, that means our Dossier was officially accepted by our adoption agency a year ago Saturday).

These are my thoughts of how it has been for me. In no way am I trying to project or assume that others have had the same experience. Not everyone is a resident of Crazytown.


First Stage of Waiting: RELIEF. Relief that you and your husband have finally landed on the same page regarding your family building. (Page 93 right honey?) You agree on the country. You agree on the agency.You agree to the expense.

Second Stage: JOY. Joy overwhelms you. There is a light (two lights) at the end of a long, nine year tunnel. You have a spring in your step. The excitement is palpable. You can go to a playground without weeping. You become a member of a club that has up until now excluded you. You can talk about preschool and even attend community school board meetings without fear of someone carrying you out in a straight-jacket. You skim the paper to see just what is the name or number of that education account you can start? Is it a 503k or something? You weigh the benefits of trundle vs bunk? You childproof. You tell EVERYONE you know about your plans.

Third Stage: What I would like to refer to as the WIN/WIN/NAIVETE/MELISSA FAYE GREENE STAGE. You have just finished,"There is No Me Without You." You think, not only I am helping myself, but I am helping Africa. We want kids, these orphans need families. They do. They absolutely need help. There are millions of orphans that need homes. There are families that have been decimated by AIDS and other diseases. There are so many parentless children. It is a win win situation. You get your family, they get a family.

Fourth Stage: HARSH REALITY/ ETHICAL QUESTIONING. A lot of these children up for adoption are not necessarily orphans. In fact a lot of them have TWO parents, a mom and a dad. They have siblings. They are being relinquished because their family can no longer afford to feed them. They will be, by your adopting them, taken from their country, their family and the only lives they have ever known. Their losses will be enormous. This is where it starts to get tricky. This is where you start wrestling a lot. " If I really cared about Ethiopia, I would take these thousands of dollars in adoption fees and bring them immediately to the organization that would do everything in their power to preserve this Ethiopian family." These thousands of dollars could keep many Ethiopian families intact. Which brings me to my next stage...


Fifth Stage: The I AM A SELFISH ASSHOLE. My white privileged need of having a family is much stronger than my need to help Ethiopia. My mothering hormones are not going to be dissipated by my concern for struggling Africans. I am an asshole.

Sixth Stage: BARGAINING. I am an asshole, but I agree to change my need. This is when, if you are me, you announce to your husband one morning, " I think that we should adopt a twelve year old from Ethiopia instead. Our neighbor is twelve and they can hang out together. Our child can go right into school. We will make sure that she is in actuality a true orphan, an only child, and HIV positive. We have good health insurance ."

This is when your husband starts to wish he never met you. Your husband who likes, more than anything, to make a decision and stick with it. Your husband starts some questioning of his own,"Who is this Crazy person and why did I ever marry her?"

Seventh Stage: OUTRAGE. Why doesn't everyone else know how bad things are around the world? Why aren't people doing more? Why is Haiti in the shitter and no one cares? Is Don Cheadle getting through to anyone? Unfortunately this outrage turns into a self-righteousness and a judgemental attitude, which sends me back down spiraling into...

Eighth Stage: GUILT. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for judging. I feel guilty for adopting. I feel guilty for eating, you name it...I feel guilty.

Ninth Stage: RESOLVE. I will do more. I will bring awareness. I will make a difference. I will do something. I will start a project that will help.

Tenth Stage: RENEWED OPTIMISM. It's okay. I will continue. I will call today and give our agency the third payment they have been asking for. I will continue my reading. I will learn more about parenting. I will do my best to be a mother to these two children. I will give it everything that I have. I will continue to wrestle. I will try to do what is best. I will look for answers.

Eleventh Stage: DEPRESSION. This one started near Thanksgiving, so I am assuming it is a 'First holiday without a loved one' kind of thing, and not a 'Yet another holiday without children' kind of thing, but maybe it is both. Whatever it is, it is not fun. Since losing his mom, the best way I can describe my husband is that he has been dressed in a soaking wet, fur coat of grief. The coat, thankfully is drying, and I think he may be ready to take it off, and hang it up. He has turned a corner, and things are getting better every day. Depression, adoption wise, stems from reading articles like this. I don't know about you but "The Lie We Love," article put a bit of a damper on things for me. Laura found a rebuttal to this article which helps. This depression stage bleeds into the next stage...

Twelfth Stage: DOUBT. Am I doing the right thing? How can I be sure that my adoption is completely ethical? This for me, also included (for the first time) doubt that I had chosen the right adoption agency. I am still not sure about this one. My agency has been working in Ethiopia a long time, and I am fairly confident that they operate in an ethical manner. But really, how would I know? I haven't been to Ethiopia yet. I am not really sure what goes on there. I know the program has changed dramatically in the past year. So many more people are choosing Ethiopia. There are more agencies, more demand for children, more room for corruption. Hence...doubts.

Thirteenth Stage: DOUBT. Am I too...(insert any of these adjectives here) old, dejected, cynical, impatient, selfish etc. to adopt at all ? Doubt in oneself and one's abilities (this too, may be related to grief stemming directly from a depressed mood).

Fourteenth Stage: DOUBT. DOUBT THAT IT WILL EVER HAPPEN! Lots of people we know who applied well after we did, have received their proposals, traveled, and are now happily ensconced with their new families. Is this just something else that works out for everyone else except us? We are definitely in the bleachers watching instead of playing on the field. Will we only be spectators? I have to say that I definitely have days where I believe that this may not happen for us. We will not get to adopt two siblings from Ethiopia. It feels precarious. It is the same feeling I have had before, when I was newly pregnant. Our four pregnancies didn't work out, so why on earth did I think this would? The stage also involves ENVY, but envy is so yucky, let's not give it its own stage.

Fifteenth Stage: DISILLUSIONMENT or THINGS I WISH I HAD THOUGHT ABOUT BEFORE: This is almost the same as Stage Four: HARSH REALITY/ ETHICAL QUESTIONING, but worse. This is disillusionment with the whole process. This is when all of your warm and fuzzy feelings about adoption don't feel warm and fuzzy anymore. Instead they feel messy and worrisome. Some of the things I wish that I had known about beforehand but was too naive to think about are...

1. DEATH. Sometimes your referred child dies. I didn't really think about this a year ago. It seemed to me that if you adopted these children, they would come to America and eventually become healthier than they have ever been. The truth is, some of these kids don't make it. I have stumbled on more than one blog where the family's referred child has died. I am usually rendered completely incapable of forming any sort of supportive comment when I read this. If this has happened to you, and you are reading this, I am so very sorry for your loss. What a terrible thing to go through. You have lost a child. How do you get over that? Maybe you never even met that child. Doesn't matter. I never met the kids I was pregnant with and I mourn them. I am sorry, and I am sorry if I never said anything to you.

A personal note here to my friends and family...
If I am lucky enough to receive a proposal and accept the referral of two small children from Ethiopia, please don't be offended if I don't show you their pictures right away. Legally, I can't publish their pictures until we are through court, but I could send them to you privately. If I don't do this right away, please don't feel angry or left out. The truth is, I am afraid they might die before I meet them. I don't want you to know their faces too, and open yourself up to losing a nephew, playmate, or grand daughter. Does that sound crazy?

Something else I didn't think much about a year ago...

2. Disruption. I know a bit about this from foster parent training, but for some reason I didn't expect it in an international adoption. Sometimes things don't work out and the adoption disrupts. Here is a link to a brave and honest woman who has written about this. Her son was from Haiti.

Okay. This is getting a little dark and depressing huh? I think it is time to tell you about my favorite stage yet!!

Sixteenth Stage:EXTREME EXHILARATION!!!! It is similar to the Second Stage: JOY, but much, much better. A couple of weeks ago, I was home with Steven and the dogs. All of the sudden I thought, "This is actually going to happen! We are going to have children!! There will be children here, in our house, SOON!" I was filled with joy. I was grinning like an idiot. My eyebrows reached landmark status as they lifted to allow for the stars in my eyes to shine fully.

It lasted exactly 90 minutes and now I think I may have accidentally ingested MSG from Chinese food. NONETHELESS, There was JOY. MSG or not there was JOY!

Back to some things that I wish I had thought about...

3. Don't assume that your social worker knows anything about you, especially if you use two separate agencies for your adoption; one for your home study, and one for your placement. Try to communicate with these people at each agency on the phone, or preferably in person. Don't assume that everyone has read your file, knows who you are, and (in my case) gets your sense of humor. That is all I am going to say about that.

4. Folks say no to their proposals. I had lofty ideas about this. The reality is that at times people you know may turn down a proposal. They say no. Sometimes their reasons will seem utterly ridiculous and shallow to you. Other times you will catch your breath and think, "I am not sure if I could have said yes either." I had ideas in the beginning of this process that were quite lovely. I used to believe that everyone gets the child they are supposed to have. If that is true, how can a family turn down a referral for any reason? Does that mean that the first child was the wrong child? Does that mean that they inherently knew that their child was not this first proposal but the next one? This really shakes up your romantic, 'it was destined', kind of thoughts.

Other times you will feel the presence of something larger than life. You will see a child placed in a family, and absolutely believe that this was their child. Your lofty ideals will be restored as you witness a bond so deep, that it is hard to fathom.

Maybe when we receive our proposal I will think, "Oh, of course, these are our children". But part of me thinks that it is just lists, and waiting dates, and who's next. Maybe it isn't a magical match. Now if our kids are presented to us and they happen to have the names we chose nine years ago for our non-existent biological children, I will print up this post and eat it.

I'm not saying there shouldn't be magical, lofty thinking. I have been wearing these bracelets on my wrist...


What do you think I have determined they represent ? When one broke off I thought,"Our child has died." I promptly got a new one and have not taken them off. I lost one on our wedding anniversary. It was dark out and I couldn't find it. I went out the next morning, found it, and put it back on. Maybe they will break off when our kids come into care, or when their birth mother dies or the day we learn about them. See, romantic, superstitious, wishful, optimistic, interconnectedness kind of thinking. I have it. I want to believe.

Imagine this... Steven and I go to Santa Fe. We stop for a coffee at the place we got married. While we are there, Kristina calls us. She says, I have your proposal for you. Nathaniel and Lucy have lost both of their parents to Aids. Their neighbors brought them into care. They are healthy. Nathaniel was born on (insert date of wedding anniversary, Steven's birthday, etc). Lucy was born on (insert day Chris died of brain cancer, day you first met Steven, your birthday etc.). Lofty right? Does everyone else look for signs that the children they adopt are the children they are supposed to adopt? Does that happen? Oh, and did I mention that Nate and Lucy's concerned neighbors speak fluent English and are well aware that they will, most likely, never see these children again and that they are okay with that?

In reality our kids may come from an intact family. They may have brothers and sisters who will be left behind in Ethiopia. There is nothing romantic about that. This is devastating. I think about this a lot. I see kids here dealing with this, and it is hard, very hard.

Is it just me or does everyone else think that these children are absolutely remarkable? Beautiful resilient Habesha children, what an extreme privilege it is to know them. I have met about sixty Ethiopian children. I feel like I would be extremely lucky to raise any one of them.


Where was I ? Have I lost you? Sorry if this seems self indulgent, but I am working through some things and hopeful that I am not alone, and or that I can help someone learn something about what happens as you delve into an international adoption. It is messy, and beautiful, and scary and wonderful.

Here is another good one...

Seventeenth Stage: UNEXPECTED, RENEWED FAITH IN HUMANITY. Where have you people been all my life? There is something special about the adoption community. I haven't pinpointed it yet, but this is what I think: I think it takes a rare individual to open up their heart to a child they did not give birth to, or who doesn't have their genetic makeup. It is a huge leap of faith to enter into an adoption triad. It takes someone with a big heart, I think, and a little sense of adventure. I am so grateful to have met you people. I mean it. You are good people. You inspire me. You are caring, and fun, and smart, and think about others before yourself. Nice to meet you. I am honored to be your friend. Thank you for helping me through a very difficult time. Thanks for your continued honesty about how it went/is going for you. Okay, group hug!

What stage am I in now?


Eighteenth Stage: A JOYFUL UNEASINESS. This feels right. I am filled with joy and excitement but also a little uneasiness. Maybe with our proposal the uneasiness will be gone but in fact, I think that it is important to always feel uneasy. Uneasy may not be the right word. Adoption is complicated. Just being involved in one as a potential adoptive parent is complicated. The people who are really going through something are the birth families, obviously. Their losses are a million times more difficult and devastating. I realize that I have no problems. I have had lunch, turned the heat up, and settled in with my computer to spill my guts. Who cares. Get a life right? Carry some wood, watch your family die, and give up your baby because you can't feed him. Then we will talk. I think it is important for me, even if I am lucky enough to adopt two Habesha children, to always be questioning. It is important to be observant over there, and to see what agencies are doing, and to read message boards, and to help those who come after, and to make sure, as much as I can, that my 'children's story' is true, and that my adoption is ethical.

Today things seem a little bit precarious, and a lotta bit exciting. In one year we have moved from the 103rd place in line, to the 3rd place in line. We are okay. We are excited. We want this more than anything. We are ready. I long to be a mother. I long for a family.


I can't wait to see my husband as a father. I can't wait for my parents to meet their first grandson. I can't wait to sing someone to sleep, to make someone laugh, and to bandage a skinned knee. I can't wait to show someone the beach, and the mountains, and a rain storm. I can't wait to explain the benefits of two dogs versus one. I can't wait to make chocolate chip cookies with two small Habesha children.

I am ready for my joyful, uneasy, happy ending.




* Some Newbee Links:

Ethiopia Adoption Agency review

Children's Home Society and Family Services Online Forum


Ethiopia Adopt


Ethica

PEAR

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Oh for the Love of Pete.Tagged. Enough Already!


So I was tagged, and I responded here.

I am still getting tagged, so for the two of you who aren't completely sick of me blathering endlessly about myself, here ya go...

One of the first jobs I had here in Los Angeles was as an SAT tutor. I could only teach the verbal portion. I need tutoring of my own in math. I hate math. I was assigned my very first student. I arrived at a very beautiful home in Santa Monica. My student had not yet arrived home. He was with his dad in Chinatown, getting acupuncture. I chatted with his mom for a bit. I realized after about four seconds, that the child I would be tutoring, my very first student ever, was the son of OLIVER FRIGGIN STONE. Let's just put it this way, the kid did not need tutoring. He knew more vocabulary than I did. He was brilliant. A couple of years later, Oliver Stone thanked me for helping his son get into Princeton. Uhm, the kid was a shoe-in.



Speaking of tutoring, I used to do a lot of tutoring in Malibu. On MORE THAN ONE occasion, I was asked to move my car.


The families didn't want my vehicle anywhere near their homes. They did not want to catch a glimpse of my sturdy Subaru through their windows. Snooty McSnootersons.

I admit, the car is no beaut, and I could write an entire week's worth of posts about my fights with Steven when we reached an impasse on the viability of said vehicle. Here is where it is now...


(But that was years later, those Malibuites were really snobby.)

I was a vegetarian for twenty years. Steven was one for fifteen. The day we went back to meat... well, that was one hell of a beautiful day....












I wish my husband felt more like this...



and less like this...


Grief is a bitch.


I was yelled at this summer for standing too close to a melting ice sculpture at LACMA...


I like my neighborhood because of things like this...






I got myself a P.O. Box for this blog. The address is on my sidebar. I got it because I have to have an address for a Stage 9 Project that I am working on, and because this letter from the Peevish Postmaster Lire was a bright spot in a truly craptastic summer.














Lastly, a current picture taken by Julie's husband Marshall has confirmed my twin-dom with the world's oldest woman. Note to you young people, don't raise your eyebrows every two seconds, you will get wrinkles...Lots of them. Take heed.





Okay, there you have it you tag happy bloggers, now go and do a movie/music soundtrack tag .

Oh, and an extra bonus because I love you guys...

I know where God keeps his books...

Big Sur.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

will return next week.

Right now I feel like my head is on backwards. Why else would I purchase the following items for a care package for my non-existent referral ?

Why on earth would I put these baby blankets under our covers to gather our scent? I think I have lost it, officially. Speaking of 'officially' we have been 'officially' waiting for nine months today. November will mark one year since we sent in our application. Did I mention we started trying for a family in 1999?

Did I mention that it fills me with self-loathing and guilt to feel this way? I feel a 'Thoughts at Nine Months Waiting' post coming on. Warning: It won't be pretty.

And yes, I realize that I have ZERO problems. I do not have a fistula. If I did have kids, they wouldn't be too hungry to attend school. If I really wanted to speed up the process I would e-mail Erin and inquire about the 67.

Instead I lumber through Target, avoiding the Halloween aisles, searching for a child's birthday present for a party we are going to tomorrow.

Instead I pause behind the young twenty something couple, the wife about to burst, as they scan bottles and diapers with their registry wand. My eyes well up as the husband protectively touches the small of her back, and gently moves her over so I can get by with my cart.

Instead I watch as my husband receives his mother's death certificate in the mail; a grandmother never made.

Instead, I find myself knee deep in Stage Five, hating myself.


In a little while I will leave the house to go and teach the third grade. Please send your loving thoughts to whatever unfortunate eight year old decides to ask me, "Why don't you have your kids yet?"

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Grief...It's What's For Dinner.



Note to self... Do not put anything on your blog, even as a comparison, that you might end up needing. This is why, in the future, you will never see this, this, or this here at the eyes of my eyes.

So where are we on the Kubler-Ross graph? Who knows.What I do know is that people deal with grief in different ways. Some cry. Some are too stoic for crying. For some people, grief manifests itself in the sciatic nerve, the stomach, and in a 60 hour bout of the hiccups.

Sometimes people turn to new, strange hobbies...


That's where Steven is today, beekeeping.

I am okay. I am okay until little things creep in. Like overhearing this...

Steven, to his brother Mark who is in Phoenix cleaning out the house: "Yeah, those are African animal cookie cutters. She must have just bought them."

All I can do at that moment is whimper softly from the couch,"Please hold on to those."

Or reading this in a card," You took such good care of your mom just as she took care of you."
That one really gets me. I can't even type that without crying.


There has been a big hullabaloo lately over at my adoption agency's online forum. For a lack of a better phrase, people are losing their shit. There haven't been referrals for months, and people are panicking. Wait times have been extended, and families are abandoning ship for agencies that promise faster placements. I am avoiding the chaos. There is less of a sense of urgency now for obvious reasons. I realize that there were three of us waiting. This is the excitement order: Me, Chris, then Steven. Now that my co-captain in waiting is gone, I think I have lost some of my enthusiasm. Part of it is a fatalistic, "It is probably not going to happen at all," feeling. I guess that would put me in the depression stage huh?

One morning, before Chris died, Steven and I had the following conversation. It was 6:00 am.

Steven: I'm wondering...Nah, never mind.
Me: What?
Steven: It's too early. Never mind.
Me: No, go ahead. What were you going to say?
Steven: I was wondering if we should just print up a picture of two cute Ethiopians and show them to mommy.
Me: I was thinking the same thing! But then I worried, what if there really is a heaven, and she knows we lied to her?
Steven: I was thinking the exact same thing.

In our house this is big. For a lapsed Catholic, and a lapsed Jew to suddenly have a strong inkling that there is indeed a heaven, it's a big thing. Maybe we were just trying to make ourselves feel better. Nonetheless, we agreed that although it was tempting to show Chris a fake 'proposal' and make her a grandmother before she died, it wasn't a good idea.

There are things that have helped in the past couple weeks:

A day with this guy...



A musical package from a friend...


All of your prayers, thoughts, comments, poems, and quotes have been extremely helpful. This one in particular from Jana...

"This may seem weird but I couldn't help but think that having the sweet love of my life singing and whispering in my ear while I passed away would hands down be one of my biggest "dreams come true". People spend their whole lives chasing after that kind of intimacy and Chris had it."

I never really thought about it that way. Maybe Chris was lucky in that she had an intimacy most people crave and don't receive.

The greatest solace of all, I think, is a new image that I have created in my mind. It is of Chris finally joining her soul mate again after many, many lonely years.


He is waiting for her. The door is open. She climbs in. They sit together coffee in hand, and watch their grandchildren's story unfold. They aren't worried that it is taking too long. They have faith that it will happen. They know that someday their son, his wife, and their Ethiopian children will use those cookie cutters. They are omniscient and beautiful. They suffer no pain. They are together at last. It is a heavenly day.


MusicPlaylist



That would be nice wouldn't it?

Sunday, September 7, 2008

When You Lose Something You Can't Replace...

Where to begin?

There is so much that I want to say, and so much I should probably keep to myself. I will say this, Thank You for your support. You guys are amazing. What would I do without you?

I can’t really talk about August 30th without talking about Pip.


At the very beginning of June, I showed up at a friend’s birthday party without Steven. Pip wanted to know where he was, and when he would be back. I explained to her that his mom was sick, and that he had gone to Phoenix to take care of her. I ended up hitching a ride home with Pip and Squeak. In the backseat, wedged tightly between two car seats, we re-hashed the highlights of the party. Pip reached into her goody bag and pulled out a green yo-yo she had received as a party favor. “Could you give this to Steve?” (Steven never goes by 'Steve', in Pip’s case, however, he makes an exception). I sent the yo-yo on to Phoenix in a care package that consisted mostly of all things ginger. Ginger is great for chemo-induced nausea.

When Pip and Squeak came over in July. We talked a lot.

Pip: When is Steve coming back?
Me: I’m not sure.
Pip: Aren’t you scared without him here?
Me: Nope. The house is safe and I have these two big dogs keeping me company.
Pip: But aren’t you scared at night, all alone without Steve?”
Me (wavering a bit) Uhm, no I’m okay.
Pip: But isn’t it scary when it’s really dark, and you are all alone and Steve is not here?
Me: Well, yeah actually, now that you mention it, I guess I am a little bit scared.

Conversation two..

Me: I’m so happy to see you guys. I just love you guys.
Pip: Why do you love us? You’re not our mom.
Me: You’re right; I am not your mom…
Pip: You are just our best friends.

Did I mention that I love Pip and Squeak?

August 30th was the monthly Ethiopian Adoptive families play date in Little Ethiopia. Steven reluctantly agreed to accompany me.

Pip completely lit up when she saw him.

Pip:(half joking in reference to the newly acquired soul patch) Are you Steve?!!!

Steve:(half joking in reference to Pip looking significantly more toothless than three months ago) Are you Pip?!?

Pip gives him a huge hug.

Pip: Wow, you were gone for so many years. How many years were you taking care of your mom? You look so old.

Steven does look older. Older, gaunt and grief stricken.

We take our seats around the messob, Pip leans over and quietly asks, “Did Steve get the green yo- yo?”

I assure her that he did.

Throughout the lunch, several tiny Ethiopians throw their arms around Steven welcoming him home. It was such a wonderful thing to see; A glimpse, hopefully of the future. The thought of these beautiful, sensitive, thoughtful kids meeting the children that we would be entrusted with, was almost too much to take.

When we got home. We had a message from our neighbors. They wanted to know if we could babysit that evening. We were happy to welcome our twelve-year-old neighbor over to our house. She ran back home early on to grab her guitar.


Steven showed her some new chords. She showed Steven how to play, ‘Smoke on the Water,’ and ‘Paint it Black,’ (which were funny choices for our very proper, very well behaved, very Catholic twelve year old neighbor.)

We introduced her to one of the world’s best movies, ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. We ate pizza and chocolate chip cookies. She ran home to get three vanilla cokes. We finished off with a couple daring games of Jenga.

The whole day, at least to me, felt like a Future Love Paradise day; a day when we were parents at long last.

Our friend went home with her parents. We got sleepy on the couch and went to bed. We were restless and couldn’t sleep. We were talking about Chris, and I asked Steven to tell me how she would die. Mark called from her bedside a few minutes later. She had died while we were talking. Mark was there, holding her hand, telling her all about the things, we her children, and her grandchildren were going to do in the future. He sang softly to her as she took her last breath.


My husband has lost both of his parents. He will turn forty this year, and most likely will become a father.

All that I can say is, batten down the hatches.


MusicPlaylist

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Eloquent Wrestler...

Remember when I wrote this post in May?

Remember Stage Four?

'Fourth Stage: HARSH REALITY/ ETHICAL QUESTIONING. A lot of these children up for adoption are not necessarily orphans. In fact a lot of them have TWO parents, a mom and a dad. They have siblings. They are being relinquished because their family can no longer afford to feed them. They will be, by your adopting them, taken from their country, their family and the only lives they have ever known. Their losses will be enormous. This is where it starts to get tricky. This is where you start wrestling a lot. " If I really cared about Ethiopia, I would take these thousands of dollars in adoption fees and bring them immediately to the organization that would do everything in their power to preserve this Ethiopian family." These thousands of dollars could keep many Ethiopian families intact. Which brings me to my next stage...'

Well apparently Nicky is wrestling too, but in a much more eloquent way. Here is her post. The comments are worth reading as well. Except for mine. I can't say anything insightful right now.

Right now, I am too busy doing my emotional wrestling with God, (if he exists).

I am wondering why he is letting my husband's mother suffer so much.



I did wrestle the teff though...


Now what do I do with it?


Monday, May 12, 2008

Thoughts at 6 months waiting...


I know I said that I was going to check in at monthly intervals and share my thoughts. I haven't done this for a variety of reasons. First of all, I feel frightened to say what I really think about International adoption. I don't want anyone to pull my Dossier, especially me. My desire to raise two children from Ethiopia is my strongest want. Even if I had a "private" blog, I am not sure that I would or could articulate everything that has been going through my mind.

You know the Kubler-Ross grief cycle? It looks like this...



Now in NO WAY am I saying that being in the process of adopting children compares to facing a serious illness or a devastating loss. The only thing that I am saying, is that I feel like this "waiting process" has several stages. I feel like I have gone through many of these stages already. I hope that by mentioning them here, I might hear that someone else wrestled with some of this stuff. This is sounding vague and I am just going to spit out what I want to say. Before I do I just want to say to my social workers and the Department of Justice, Thanks for reading, I hope you think my photos are funny, and I am fully committed to my adoption. It is the single most important thing (next to my current family) in my life.

So here are what I think have been my stages of waiting . It has been six months since we applied to adopt two small children from Ethiopia. Again, these are my thoughts of how it has been for me. In no way am I trying to project or assume that others have had the same experience. Not everyone is a resident of Crazytown.


First Stage of Waiting: RELIEF. Relief that you and your husband have finally landed on the same page regarding your family building. (Page 93 right honey?) You agree on the country. You agree on the agency.You agree to the expense.

Second Stage: JOY. Joy overwhelms you. There is a light (two lights) at the end of a long, nine year tunnel. You have a spring in your step. The excitement is palpable. You can go to a playground without weeping. You become a member of a club that has up until now excluded you. You can talk about preschool and even attend community school board meetings without fear of someone carrying you out in a straight-jacket. You skim the paper to see just what is the name or number of that education account you can start? Is it a 503k or something? You weigh the benefits of trundle vs bunk? You childproof. You tell EVERYONE you know about your plans.

Third Stage: What I would like to refer to as the WIN/WIN/NAIVETE /MELISSA FAYE GREENE STAGE. You have just finished,"There is No Me Without You." You think, not only I am helping myself, but I am helping Africa. We want kids, these orphans need families. They do. They absolutely need help. There are millions of orphans that need homes. There are families that have been decimated by AIDS and other diseases. There are so many parentless children. It is a win win situation. You get your family, they get a family.

Fourth Stage: HARSH REALITY/ ETHICAL QUESTIONING. A lot of these children up for adoption are not necessarily orphans. In fact a lot of them have TWO parents, a mom and a dad. They have siblings. They are being relinquished because their family can no longer afford to feed them. They will be, by your adopting them, taken from their country, their family and the only lives they have ever known. Their losses will be enormous. This is where it starts to get tricky. This is where you start wrestling a lot. " If I really cared about Ethiopia, I would take these thousands of dollars in adoption fees and bring them immediately to the organization that would do everything in their power to preserve this Ethiopian family." These thousands of dollars could keep many Ethiopian families intact. Which brings me to my next stage...


Fifth Stage: The I AM A SELFISH ASSHOLE. My white privileged need of having a family is much stronger than my need to help Ethiopia. My mothering hormones are not going to be dissipated by my concern for struggling Africans. I am an asshole.

Sixth Stage: BARGAINING. I am an asshole, but I agree to change my need. This is when, if you are me, you announce to your husband one morning, " I think that we should adopt a twelve year old from Ethiopia instead. Our neighbor is twelve and they can hang out together. Our child can go right into school. We will make sure that she is in actuality a true orphan, an only child, and HIV positive. We have good health insurance ."

This is when your husband starts to wish he never met you. Your husband who likes, more than anything, to make a decision and stick with it. Your husband starts some questioning of his own,"Who is this Crazy person and why did I ever marry her?"

Seventh Stage: OUTRAGE. Why doesn't everyone else know how bad things are around the world? Why aren't people doing more? Why is Haiti in the shitter and no one cares? Is Don Cheadle getting through to anyone? Unfortunately this outrage turns into a self-righteousness and a judgemental attitude, which sends me back down spiraling into...

Eighth Stage: GUILT. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for judging. I feel guilty for adopting. I feel guilty for eating, you name it...I feel guilty.

Ninth Stage: RESOLVE. I will do more. I will bring awareness. I will make a difference. I will do something. I will start a project that will help.

Tenth Stage: RENEWED OPTIMISM. It's okay. I will continue. I will call today and give our agency the third payment they have been asking for. I will continue my reading. I will learn more about parenting. I will do my best to be a mother to these two children. I will give it everything that I have. I will continue to wrestle. I will try to do what is best. I will look for answers.

So that's where I am at. See why I don't write about it every month?

If you have any thoughts that you don't feel comfortable posting in the comments, please e-mail me. (I just realized that you could link an e-mail address to your profile. Duh.)