Rattling cages

What have I been up to? Well, rattling some cages, making some phonecalls. Now of course, it seems things might have been easier becoming a direct client of an agency in the States. I wish I had known that a long time ago. Trying to scare me up a baby - and there's plenty out there - the one for me, however, is a trickier matter. I've been told to add more pictures to my profile. Great, that only took a year for someone to tell me. Over a year. Mmm, more pictures, eh? Now if I could just find some pictures of us without a drink in our hand. Of course, we didn't have kids, so we weren't thinking of that when we were photographed. Oh, yeah, better schedule photo ops with our friends' children. Finish the nursery so I can take a picture with an arrow over the empty crib.

I tried not to blame, I tried not to point fingers, cause you know apparently everyone can get matched faster than us, but with no waiting parent group to bounce ideas off of, it's been very emotional for me. We were the couple that would have a kid in time at all - hah! Just be patient. Hang in there. There's a birth mother out there for every waiting couple. You're top of the list! And I guess the alarm bells went off. It was starting to feel like it used to when were we trying IVF. You're next! It will be your turn soon! Great eggs! Just hang in there, be positive, drink this crap, we take Visa, take those needles and just consider yourself pregnant! And now I have gray hairs in places I can't take a picture of.

Also we've been asked to consider purely African American children. Fine. Now we did raise that question last year, but now they're asking us. Hubby is all over the idea, no doubt dreaming of a future basketball star supporting his lazy trailer park ass. So, we're opening it up, but if somebody mentions China to me, I'm gonna snap. We're too fat and old anyways. So I had the talk with hubby and I realized that one of the reasons I was hanging in for a biracial child, besides the obvious, is that I wanted a child that would have resembled the one we couldn't have. Sort of like the old dream. Not the exact one, cause that's impossible and I've already said goodbye to that dream, but one that's close enough. I also didn't want hubby to deal with stupid ass people who feel the need to voice their assumptions. As you know, in the arena of adoptive child rearing, everyone has an opinion. I didn't think I was being picky. Or racist. It just made common sense to me. Then I realized that I had to decide. Did I want to parent a child? Did I just want to be like everyone else, what everyone else seems to have taken for granted (some of course, not you guys) and just be another family on the street?

Now I told a friend the other day that motherhood was simply one of the things I wanted to do with my life. One. And yet more than a decade into our joined lives, what I am still trying to do? I am still stuck. Waiting. I had no idea that the day we "pulled the goalie" I'd still be going on about this shit. I wanted to be one of the blissfully ignorant omg what I've done with my life mothers who outwardly griped by inwardly smiled. That's not what happened. Okay, fine. I'm over it, but now I've entered another circle of hell called waiting to adopt. And I'm just about done with it. Hence, all phone calls, hi, remember us - got mocha baby? No twins, please, I still need time to get my hair done.

I've had a really good career but let's face it, I'm not young and hot (well too hot) anymore and the show business economy sucks right now. So what I am to do with my time? Raise a dog, go shopping, travel the world. Oh, yeah, I did that. Rinse. Repeat. Eat, pray, love. I wrote, I directed, I ate (boy did I eat), I prayed, crossed my legs, closed my eyes and waited. I watched my dog die before my eyes. I spent almost 3 weeks watching someone I loved very much die from cancer. I dealt with my mum and ovulation kits for 5 years. I breathed it in and breathed out love. For that I am grateful for the daimoku I chanted, cause I couldn't have made it without it. Seriously. I don't want anyone ever to ask me if I can handle a baby. I've changed diapers, so what if was my mother's. I've been sleep deprived (wake up, Juno!) and I can multitask - I'm doing laundry and having a nervous breakdown right now.