T.M.I.

Those damn classes. We're going through the Hague Adoptions video courses on international adoption.

Apparently, we can be assured that:

1.) Our child will not develop normally

2.) Our child will have any number of diseases

3.) Our child will not do well in school

4.) Our child will have trouble socially

5.) Our child will have eating issues

6.) Our child will never forgive us for taking him/her out of his/her birth country

7.) Our child will have seven heads and four stomachs 

8.) Our child will not sleep, ever

9.) Our child will never fit in

10.) Our child will never get to us because the country will close. (Oh - wait...)

This is the "scare the crap out of you" tactic. I have to admit. It's working.

Blog identity crisis.

I have been trying to decide what to do with this beloved blog, which started as an adoption blog.

With our first adoption attempt - I wanted to (and pratically did) shout from the rooftops: "we're gonna adopt a baby from Nepal!". So I blogged, we shared with family, we daydreamed, we planned, we envisioned, we began to learn and love the Nepali culture and I blogged.

Now that we have (how do I put it lightly) had our hearts crushed, our wallets cleaned out and our dreams obliterated, I've been unsure how to proceed with the blog.

While we are cautiously moving forward to build our family - we're not giving out specifics. So this isn't an adoption blog right now. Besides, I don't want to blog another word on our lost child. Whoops. I just did. I'm not a homemaker-type, so it's not a crafty-cooking-entertaining-decorating blog. I'm a career-girl, and while I love my work, I'm in IT and it's not super-exciting. Besides, there are some really good IT blogs out there already. I don't live in L.A. I'm sick of politics, I'm not Gywneth Paltrow and I sure don't care about cars.

So it begs the question: Who am I? This blog wants to know.

Dammit

When we started the international adoption process we were told the road would be bumpy. But daaaang was I naive. I guess I just assumed we'd be one of the couples whose adoption happened quickly, easily and flawlessly. Or at least happened at all. That's how it felt - so incredibly right.

Nearly two years - and thousands of dollars later - I just have to say: DAMMIT! It hasn't been quick, easy and certainly anything but flawless. Why did it feel so right?

So as we start the process again, it's totally different. I'm a little more hardened. I'm a lot more scared. I'm not on adoption boards. I'm hesitating to build community around this yet. I'm not letting thoughts of a child creep into my head or my heart (to the best of my ability). I'm not celebrating.

Almost 3 months after Nepal shut down, I'm still in shock. I'm still angry. But mostly, I'm just sad.

Namaste.

It's a very small, big world.

I just got back from a great trip to Germany for work. It reminded me (as if I'd forgotten!) how much I/we love to travel. The next time I go - I have promised myself I will take an extra weekend or so and see a country I haven't yet seen, even if it means staying in a hostile to save money. (Wait a minute, that's crazy talk! I'll just find a quiet, reasonably-priced hotel :). ) I only wish we had offices in Thailand, Vietnam and Kathmandu!

This is likely one of the reasons we feel so passionate about International adoption. We love to see the different ways people live, celebrate, pray, eat, and spend their time. And we love to bring different customs, rituals and cultures into our lives. It's a big world - but a lot smaller than we sometimes think and act.

I was reminded of this quote, which I shamelessly stole from my friend Bridget:
If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion, and avoid the people, you might better stay home. -James Michener

Mothers. It's just what they do.

I love, love, love this video! (click here) Turn the sound up. Grab a kleenex. And then tell me - isn't it just mamas and daddys taking care of babies, rather than dog/cat/fawn/horse/goat or black/white/brown? Seems like there's plenty of love to go around. What great examples there creatures are.                                     

PS - plenty more where this came from...

Mama cat + baby rabbit.

Daddy dog + baby kittens.

Mama cat + baby squirrels.

Mama cat + baby panda.

Chihauha + baby squirrels.         

Something to think about.

People say the darndest things...

Ever wonder what to say and what not to say to friends who are adopting? Here’s a good list:"Single Laughing Dad's Guide to Adoption Etiquette". This list is copied and pasted directly from this blog: Single Daddy Laughing. And, yes, he has been asked more than once "how much he paid for his son." **Warning - this is not politically correct.**

Single Dad Laughing's Guide to Adoption Etiquette:
1. Never, ever, ever, ask how much a child costs. This includes the phrase, "how much did you pay for him?" First of all, it's none of your business. Second of all, if you're interested in adoption, research it through the appropriate channels. Speak with an adoption agency. Adoptive parents don't purchase children. They simply pay legal fees and agency fees. Just like biological parents pay hospital and doctor bills. Don't turn the child into nothing more than a commodity.
2. Never ask if a celebrity inspired the adoption. Believe it or not, Tom Cruise, Connie Chung, and Angelina Jolie did not convince me one way or the other in the biggest decision of my life. Are you serious?
3. Never ask "where is his real dad?" Forget the fact that it will hurt my feelings. How do you think it will affect my son's feelings to feel like I'm not a real dad to him? Adoptive parents are real parents. The term you're looking for is "birth mother" or "birth father".
4. Don't say things like, "as soon as you adopt you're going to get pregnant" when you find out somebody is adopting. First of all, there are usually many, many years of pain and financial burden strapped to infertility, treatments, and heartache. Do you really think that what you're saying will help them? Secondly, while it is funny when it happens, it's rare.
5. Never say, "why did she give him away?" Do I really need to explain why this one would hurt a child? The proper term is "placed". A birth mother and birth father place their child for adoption. And again, it's personal and none of your business, so don't ask if you aren't my BFF.
6. Don't say, "it's like he's your real son". This is similar to number three, but worthy of mentioning. He is my real son, damn it.
7. Don't say, "do you love him as if he was your own?" Ummm... probably more than you love your little terror, that's for sure. And again... he is my own, damn it.
8. Never say things like, "you're so wonderful to adopt a child". I am a parent. Just like anybody else with kids.
9. Don't start spewing your horrible adoption stories. "This one time, my friend's sister's aunt's dog's previous owner's niece adopted a baby and the real dad came back and they took the baby away after they had him for two years." First of all, it probably isn't true. Second of all, how would you feel if I told you about all the ways you could lose your child. Adoption is permanent. And in the extremely rare circumstances that something like that happens, it's not something you should spread because the hurt that exists for all the parties involved must be immeasurable.
10. Don't say things like, "is it hard for him to be adopted?" Well, it wasn't, until you asked me that right in front of him you freaking idiot.
11. I don't want to hear about your second cousin who was on a waiting list for twelve years and never got a baby. Granted, this one was much more annoying when we were going through the adoption process. Nobody wants to know that some people never get chosen. Show some kindness. Even to ugly people.

We've experienced many of these, and also:
• How much money did you lose when Nepal closed?
• Can't you just do in vitro?
• What will your child look like?
• What religion will it be?
And my personal favorite:
• Just take one of our kids for a while (Really? Seriously. Really?)

I guess mentioning you're in the process of adopting - or having a child that doesn't look you - is similar to when a woman's pregnant belly becomes public property. People just get in your business and sometimes they're just not very smart/thoughtful. But then again - you don't have to be pregnant/adopting or have a child that doesn't look like you for people to say stupid sh*t to you!

But, here's the good news: our community rocks. We are fortunate to have amazing friends and family who love us and support us all the way. And we love and appreciate them. And – more often than not – when people find out we are in the process of adoption, they go out of their way to help us. (I’ve blogged about the amazing kindness of people a few times … Apparently I’m just surly today!)


If you're an adoptive parent/hopeful adoptive parent - what's the worst/strangest question you've ever gotten?

Fall (as in Autumn, not I can't get up...)

Fall begins tomorrow - although to look out the window it has come in a day early. It's heavenly in Colorado in September and October. It's harvest season - and while our harvest this year is a bit light (tomatoes, grapes, hopefully beets and we think one carrot), at least we're eating some homegrown food. This fall I'm looking forward to a trip to Germany, cooking soups, chili and stews (the only real cooking I do, and only in fall/winter!), long hikes, beautiful cool days, a bear sighting (if the last 3 years are any indication), and hoping that NEXT fall we have a little one to take on hikes and dress as a pumpkin, princess or batman on Halloween.

So: Happy Autumn! Here's to OktoberFest,  winter squash, chard, fleece jackets, chili, early snowstorms, new boots, little ghouls and ghosts and falling leaves of all colors.