June Thoughts

June is our anniversary. Not the anniversary of our wedding date, or of the start of a new job. No, June marks the anniversary of when we first started trying to conceive. It's been four years, this month.

The most recent news from our agency is that there aren't many birth families that they are working with right now. So I need to retrain my mind for what is likely a long wait ahead. Another year or possibly two. And while so many of us keep thinking that we're going to be the lucky ones -- those with a short wait, so fabulous that we're snatched right up off the waiting parents list -- the reality is that it's likely to be another year or more and that I will be less heartbroken if I can stop living day to day for that phone call and instead just live my life, take vacations, enjoy wine and sleep in. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm blue and left feeling like after working so hard and waiting so long already that it feels just maddening to have to continue to wait.

HOWEVER, the wait will be worth every moment. You may not anticipate what I'm about to say. Yes, of course the wait will be worth it for the baby that was meant to be ours and the chance to finally become parents. But it will also be worth waiting because our agency works incredibly hard to support birth parents to make the right decision for them and their families about their babies. As I recall, our agency connects with more than 300 birth families each year and finalizes 20 or so adoptions. Yeah, that's a small percentage. But it means that those families have been supported fully in their decisions, whether or not the choice is adoption. And that's critically important because that wasn't always the case for women.

I'm reading a book right now, shared with me by a friend who is also an adoptive parent. The book, The Girls Who Went Away, is a study of the girls and women in the late 50s, 60s and early 70s who were forced to give their babies up for adoption. Unwed, pregnant women had few options and no voice in making decisions and were routinely sent away to group homes to live out their pregnancies, give birth and sign away rights to their babies. These young women were made to believe that they would be unfit mothers and undeserving of raising their children. If they tried to fight to keep their babies, they were often presented with a bill for thousands of dollars for room, board and medical expenses, which meant that signing a release was the only option. This was in the time before Roe v. Wade and girls were not only left to trust their boyfriends to take care of birth control but also had no choices in the event of an unplanned pregnancy. And these girls carried the guilt and shame of stigmatizing their families.

So these girls were sent away to institutions and special centers, often hundreds of miles from home, with little support from their families. Friends and neighbors were told of a sick aunt who needed care or a special opportunity to summer in a faraway place. And these girls went, had their babies, and were told they would forget all about them. That they would move on and another, more deserving family, would raise that baby. And these girls were sent back home to pretend that nothing had happened, that that little life they carried for nine months meant nothing and to just get on with their lives.

But of course they couldn't and didn't. They thought about those babies every day for the rest of their lives. They remembered tiny toes and buttery skin and wondered, forever, if their babies were okay and if they knew they were loved. Some turned to drugs and alcohol. Some never reconciled with their families. All grieved. And some reconnected with their biological children later in life, often leading to finally coming to peace with what had happened.

I can only read this book in small doses -- it's extremely emotional. And while we will be so happy to have a baby through adoption, I don't forget for a moment what these birth families are giving up so that I can become a mom. As someone who has wanted to be a parent for at least five years, I can't imagine what it must feel like to decide that the best option for you and your baby is for someone else to raise him or her. But it relieves me to know that now women have options. For some, abortion is the right option and even though adoption is how we will build our family, my pro-choice stance hasn't waivered one inch. For others, maybe the right choice is to raise that child alone, or with less means than one would like, or to have a parent, grandparent or sibling become the primary parent. And for others, adoption is the right decision and for one of those babies, Bill and I will become dad and mom.

I guess what I'm trying to say is thank goodness women have choices about their bodies and their families and that our agency works tirelessly to support women in making the right decision for them. And that every day that we wait for our little one and every day of our little one's life we will be in awe of that birth mom who made the most selfless, difficult decision of all on behalf of her baby.

Still waiting...

Not much happening, but I'm feeling lame that we haven't posted anything in awhile, so I thought I would at least put something up since I know people are keeping their eyes peeled for news!

We know we've been shown at least once to a birth family, so that's good. And while we're bummed that the fabulous Director of Domestic Programs at our agency has stepped down, she is being replaced by the equally-fabulous social worker who did our home study, so I hope that will help in some way, since she knows us so well. But at the end of the day, the birth family makes the choice, so it's still very much up to fate and when it's meant to be.

In the meantime, I'm trying hard not to be totally restless. We still have plenty to do -- we need to get the nursery together and start registering for the things we know we'll need so that if we get a call with little notice, we can just pull things off the registry and be ready to roll. And we need to research child care options and get ourselves on some daycare lists.

But it all still seems far away and sort of unbelievable. It's hard to remember a time when we weren't wanting to try and have a baby or actively trying to have a baby or grieving the loss of a baby or filling out paperwork to adopt a baby. And while I logically know that little Green-Murray is on the way, it's still really hard to imagine. But I can't wait! I hope that phone rings with good news soon! Come on, phone call!

WHAT IF...

This is National Infertility Awareness Week. While we are thrilled beyond measure that we are going to become parents by adoption, and while I feel firm in my belief that this was the path always meant for us, there will forever remain scars on our hearts from our little ones lost and the years-long journey through the dark forest of infertility.

To commemorate this week, I'll just share the following link to a well-known infertility blog. The comments list -- a compilation of "what ifs" from women and men who are currently experiencing or have experienced infertility -- is a powerful and emotional reminder of where we have been. CLICK HERE.

Reading through them brought me back to some hard times. But I am so elated to replace many of my own IF statements -- for instance, it's no longer IF I'll be a mom, but WHEN I'M A MOM!

Education

Julie and I are (only three weeks in to the waiting) are feeling very well taken care of by Barker. We have been matched with and met with two mentor families who are incredibly helpful, open and nice; we have attended our first (possibly of many) waiting parents group; and just recently attended The Barker Foundation's annual conference.

The conference was just full of great information and people. The keynote was given by Collins Tuohy, sister of Michael Oher (if you're not familiar with either of these names, see The Blind Side). While her delivery was a tad tone deaf at times (she twice referred to "Orientals"), her message was basically a good one - don't think, just go out and help. Now this talk was also a tad awkward for this audience because her message was all about adopting a child to do a good deed. Admirable as that is, it is not the reason Julie and I (or I suspect many adoptive parents) are adopting. We are adopting because we want to be parents, not because we want to be saints.

The closing speaker was Scott Simon (he of NPR Weekend Edition Saturday fame) who was, as you might imagine, a fantastic speaker. He and his wife have adopted two girls from China and he has a book coming out this summer called Baby, We Were Meant for Each Other: In Praise of Adoption. He was an articulate and funny speaker who hit all the right notes about adoption and parenting.

In between these two speakers was an afternoon of breakout sessions that covered topics like transracial adoptions, blended families (families with birth and adopted children), and open adoptions. These sessions were extremely helpful but really reinforced that my education about adoption is just beginning.

I often wonder if I will be able to keep all this in mind while dealing with everyday parenting. There can be so many levels to parenting an adopted child that it seems like it can be overwhelming to keep it all in mind. Though I suppose all parents feel like this and most do great so I'm sure I will get there. The mountain always looks more daunting at the bottom.

Because I know y'all were worried...

I'm happy to report that the FBI has finally declared that I am NOT a hardened criminal!

That makes our homestudy officially complete and approved. And per my last post, now all we have to do is wait to be matched with our little one! :-)

And then they were waiting...

I'm loathe to admit it, but the completion of our paperwork and submission of our photo books lacked some anticipated drama. I expected to be overjoyed to be done with all the "work" (prior to the REAL work that lies ahead!) but I honestly was in a little bit of a funk for a few days.

I majored in music in college and studied flute. I practiced for hours every day and in my senior year, I spent the entire year working on really challenging repertoire for my senior recital -- April 30, 1995. Every ounce of energy was spent preparing for that concert. The culmination of my music career to that point, starting with picking up the flute in the 4th grade. Friends from near and far and family were there to watch. I bought a special (and now totally dated) outfit and fabulous (and, yes, totally dated) shoes. I walked onto the stage as proud and confident as I'd ever been. And I remember that I wasn't at all nervous. I knew that music cold and I got to just revel in the pleasure of playing for the audience.

I expected that once the concert was over, I'd feel great relief. All that work -- now over! I could now just cruise through the end of senior year, having fun with friends and hanging out! But I woke the next morning about as blue as could be.

My friend Beth, who had studied psychology, "diagnosed" me with what she called (or I remember she called) post-transcendent fulfillment letdown syndrome. My funk was a "now what?!" disorder -- I had lived so much of that year in preparation for that one moment and now that that moment was over, what was I supposed to do? Who was I? Where was I headed?

So I thought of that "condition" (and Beth, wondering if she'd made up that name or if it's something real!) when the paperwork was done, the photo books printed and delivered. The work of the last several months was over. Now what?! Now we wait. We reorganize. We talk to other adoptive parents (our fabulous agency has connected us with some mentor parents). We read and research. We register. We celebrate the little moments we have together, because sooner or later, there will be three of us. Funk over.

Off to the Races (almost)

The photo book and dear birthparent letter are done and IN from Shutterfly! The agency seemed to like it and our social worker used the word "love" three times to describe it, so we done good! They look so, so nice and I'm really pleased with how they capture our spirit and energy! Oh, you'd like to see it? Sure! I think it'll work if you just click HERE.

We'll deliver them to our fabulous agency in the coming days. The only thing left outstanding is the issue of my FBI background check. Since I have unreadable fingerprints, they have to search me by name, which I suspect means they won't find me because, to my knowledge, I am not a hardened criminal. But we've been waiting on this to get taken care of for 3-4 weeks now, so hopefully we'll have that done soon. Because when it does, we are officially out there, waiting for our baby!

So I am officially allowing myself to start the fun stuff -- we got rid of some old furniture this weekend and bought a lovely, compact desk that will sit in the corner of the nursery. It will house, among other things, our new MacBook (which we HAD to have for the baby, of course). We have a little more re-org to do on that room and then we can paint, get a crib, and start decorating! FUN FUN FUN! Thanks to all the friends who have been sharing their lists of what we do and don't need -- if you have advice, please share.

A colleague told me today that I'm glowing and I have to say, I've never been happier!