Desperate housewife

This is what I started and deleted the other day. DH found a short history of a biracial 4 year old child on the provincial adoption waiting list. My immediate thought was no, I want a baby. What about attachment issues with the foster mum, where is her biological mum, questions begat more questions. Maybe, maybe. Another process to begin, more forms, more protocol, more questions. Which way to go?


Then I asked myself, why do I want a baby? Cause everyone else has one? Cause I want to buy cute little clothes and have a baby shower and people over to ooh and aahh, all the other things that I never got to experience as a biological mum of my own? Did I not realize how sleep deprived and crazy I would get worrying about which bisphenol free bottle to use? What about feeding her and bathing her tiny little body, memorizing every crease and detail? Watching her eyes become focused on mine as the one who would love and care for her? What if I left the kid in the car? Have I got what it takes to be a yummy mummy? I don't have a nanny, how am I supposed to get my hair done and go to the gym. What about DH, would he be content with the changes? My mum could coo and hold her - I know she would love her. I know she would accept her.


The other day, mum and I were hanging out at Starbucks. As per usual, I was reading a local paper and she was looking out the window at the people, we'd chat about this and that. A man came up with a child in a stroller and parked it so that the baby was looking in at us through the window. Then the mum came along with a little Yorkshire in her hands. Mum looked at me and said, "Soon, that will be you." Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to ask her, when, WHEN??! I wanted to believe that she knew something that I didn't.


And yet, my mind wondered to what life would look like if I did have an older child. I could take him or her to preschool or elementary school. I could have a bit of time to myself. We could go on vacation, maybe Disneyland and I wouldn't have to tote around diapers and bottles. We could dispense entirely the conversations about consistency of poo. I could talk to the kid. Help with the homework, teach how to tie shoes. I would have to earn their trust, help them to adjust to not having their present foster parent, maybe a new routine, cook their favourite foods.


Sigh. I'm a desperate housewife. Minus the gold credit card and the fake tits. My professional life is non-existent cause in show business you're only as good as your last job - which for me was a year ago. I am a woman of a certain age in a business that worships the young(er). I cringe but there you have it. I only get really jazzed up creatively when I'm working on a project, but until then.... I work at my joe job, move around the creative irons in fire so to speak, take care of my puppy, my mum, my hubby and do Buddhist activities (which I totally adore). So of course, I've attached my identity to being a mum - you know the MOST DIFFICULT JOB IN THE WORLD. I've got my resume in hand, filling out applications and no one is calling me back.


Hubby and I had a conversation the other night. Well, he did. I got a little defensive, I admit it, but it was because he asked why we had taken so long to get things done. He's been just as frustrated and discouraged by the lack of results. He's pragmatic and more "shit or get off the pot" kind of guy. Me, I'm more like "mmm, maybe I'll shit, maybe I won't, maybe I'll have a coffee, what's that shiny thing over there" kind of girl. Yes, we drive each other crazy sometimes. We should have gone with the US lawyer sooner, should have done our profile sooner, should have gone online sooner, etc. If we had to pull the plug on this, did we really do everything we could have done to make this thing happen? Maybe we didn't move fast enough. We're going to be senior citizens by the time this theoretical child is in high school. We need to start living our lives instead of just "waiting". Maybe we're not cut out for this shit. All true and significant points. It's nothing that I haven't considered. I heard that he was saying that he didn't need a child to "complete" him especially one that doesn't come out of me. He's cried right along with me after each failed IVF attempt. I didn't bring up the fact that at the end of our homestudy, we found that we had to do repair work on our relationship - and I had to work on the size of my ass - so our hot and heavy pursuit was significantly delayed. I know my enthusiasm was certainly dampened. I had become so focused on getting a child or rather NOT having one, that I had conveniently ignored the fallout of infertility and depression. Of course, obsession only works when you're finally successful.


It's a little like the acting profession. It's a highly competitive field and only a tiny percentage make a living out from it. You spend a great deal of time and money on classes, pictures, finding the right agent. The agent is always so excited at first and you get a lot of auditions. If you're not fortunate, you don't book. Other people seem to be working, but not you. Then as time goes by, the auditions get fewer and fewer and you have to figure out how to have a life in between them. Sometimes you get miserable, sometimes you get depressed. When you get a call, you drop everything, all your plans and your whole body goes into alert mode. What time is it, where do I have to go, how do I get there, do I have to cancel work, change plans, buy the right clothes, learn a song, brush up on an accent? Do I have time to find a coach, can I afford it, can I just wing it on my own? Do I stay up late to learn my lines, or get up super early? Then after the audition, you rush back to your joe job, and jump every time the phone rings - is it my agent, please let me get that job so I can quit this shitty job? You wait and wait, sometimes for days. Should I call my agent, what was the feedback? Sometimes, the call never comes. Maybe you start to resent the phone call cause it puts you back into the merry go round again. Maybe you need to find another agent and boy, let me tell you, that sucks. You hear in acting class how so and so is working, who got the job, what film is coming to town that you didn't get in to audition for and you start to question your worth. Your self esteem plummets. How much do you love acting? How long do you do this? Is getting a gig every now and then worth all the sacrifice, the hard work. You watch other friends get good jobs, buy homes and cars and build families. You doggedly pursue your dream and there's enough carrots to keep you going. Don't look now, but those carrots aren't helping you to get over the broken bones from the sticks. But the big break just never seems to come your way, it's not that you're not talented, it's not that you don't care. You just get tired of trying to reinvent yourself, prove yourself over and over and over. A thick resume in another profession might guarantee you respect and reward. But like I said, obsession only counts when you win big time. Then it can be described as dedication.


In both circumstances, I would have made different choices. Certainly speedier choices. If I knew then what I know now. There really isn't a roadmap to follow in these cases. None that I've seen anyway. Maybe I haven't been obsessed ENOUGH.

I'm sensing an end to this, one way or the other.

Paint job complete!

You can't really see the true colour in these photos (it's been rainy so the light is poor) but it's sage green now. In the colour chip, it's the colour on the top bar (against to my living room's brick red walls). Thanks to hubby's persistence, the room is finished. He told me that it felt good doing it.

When we moved in, every room was a bright primary colour but as much as I like bright colours, they were a bit too vibrant to live with (but oh, so child friendly as our social worker pointed out). We had a friend paint our bedroom and ensuite bathroom in nice calming cinnamon colours. If I had my way, I'd probably paint the whole apartment to look like a giant spa, but that would require hubby's cooperation (and moving lots of heavy things) and hiring someone is out of the question at the moment. So I have to work my devilish means on him one room at a time. I just say, "Mmmmm, I'll think I'll buy some paint and wait til you go away and I'll have a crack at it." Worried that my female DNA might somehow botch the job, he'll make the time to do the task in that perfectionist way he has that doesn't allow for meal breaks or outside assistance. Then he thumps his chest and asks me to appraise his job, seeking the look of happiness in my eyes.

Next is his bathroom(bright yellow!) and the office (lavender - eeks). Back in my single days, when I needed a major task done, I'd call a couple guys over and give them beer. Easy. Sheesh.

Inspired by another blogger, I think I will get a decal for the room. http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5717811 She found this etsy that makes customized decals and I thought cool, why not?

I like these:

My heart melted at this one:

Dare to Hope?

Right at this very moment, my DH is in the 2nd bedroom. Priming the walls. For painting. A nursery. No, no, calm down, we don't have a match or anything. Last week, we decided to buy paint to cover the shockingly bright blue walls that we've been ignoring for 2 years. I was going to show you the sage green we're going to replace it with but I seem to have misplaced the paint chip. Not baby blue or pink or yellow. That would be too much like expectation. No flower or teddy bear murals. Maybe something else. Details to be decided. I have to admit, I was scared (okay, terrified) at first. To hope. To determine that this would be our year. I had done that before and well... you know. But then I think of my red shoes and though they are not the most comfy pair of shoes I have, they made me feel different. Sexy. Powerful. These are never the adjectives I use to describe myself. This will change.





So this is the colour now (primer on the left).


When we first started the adoption process, I was really excited and wanted to paint the room right away and hubby was like, whoah, slow down. The fallout last year sucked the wind out of our sails. Now he says let's get it done. I know this whole IF bag of hammers has cost him too. He is as frustrated as I am at the non-results we've had with adoption. It makes me sad to realize that he has lost his innocence, his optimism about this whole "family" thang. It's like a grim hope. Hoping for the best and expecting the worst. He can't quite indulge his penchant for boy toys to soothe his soul because of his concern over the crappy economy and the impending costs of adoption. I know he doesn't particularly like painting, but I suppose that if we had a bun in the oven, he would certainly feel more joy in this task. But he's moving in faith right now, I think, or perhaps he just wants to make me happy. Maybe a bit of both, I'm not sure. All of his peers have gone on to have children easily and as much as they complain to him about the rigors and responsibilities of parenthood, and as much as I'm sure he would delight in buying bigger and better TVs or travelling the globe, he takes great delight in hanging out with kids and reading bedtime stories. It's so sweet, it makes my heart melt and I don't think you can replace that with the joy of driving a new sports car. (But what the bleep do I know?) Sometimes it seems all we've been doing is struggling to find a purposeful joy. I guess that's why I continue in my Buddhist practice and keep on trying to understand life. I want to absolute happiness, not the jumping up and down kind when you win the lottery, the kind that allows me to withstand life's ups and down with grace and dignity and purpose. Life would seem hollow without it.

Besides my temper tantrums and spiritual efforts to rise above it all, I forget that he stands by and watches it all, unable to soothe my pain as well as his own.

At a Buddhist meeting, someone asked about what they could to to guarantee security in these hard times. And the vice director just laughed and said there was no such thing as security. There could only be an unshakable happiness and high life condition that could withstand the Eight winds.

"A truly wise man will not be carried away by any of the eight winds: prosperity, decline, disgrace, honor, praise, censure, suffering and pleasure. He is neither elated by prosperity nor grieved by decline. The heavenly gods will surely protect one who does not bend before the eight winds."

I was pretty pissed when I discovered that for whatever reason, that I couldn't have what I wanted when I wanted it. Princesses are like that. Frequently disappointed. Having acquired my queendom, however, I know now I have to dig deep, make sacrifices, be smart and be determined. I wear armour now and have to learn how to move forward with its weight.

Whining, Waiting and Red Stilettos

WARNING! SEVERE WHINING AHEAD.

I went to a fundraiser show for a very accomplished and talented actress who has terminal cancer - and I'm watching her plays be read and people sing her praises and perform odes to her - and I'm thinking - if I died tomorrow, what precisely would I have accomplished? She has a great reel and she has a son. I know her professionally; when I first came to town, she took me to a play, but we never became friends. I was far more interested in partying and getting laid. She was married and had a son, and it was apparent that she adored her son and he was a miracle to her. She must have thought I was a ditz. I probably was and happily so.

This is what self-pity does. Part of me was in complete awe for her and her life and the other part of me was - you have 6 years of wasted time behind you and if you put on your night vision goggles, you'll see recurring "neurotic" depression sitting in the corner waiting patiently in the corner for you. Always nice to hear your point of view, Evil Twin. Thanks a lot. I completely missed the point that I have my health and my life and my future ahead of me. Nice job. Apparently, the dis-ease of IF still lingers like nerve damage.

Yep, I was doing fine with my keep busy plan and I was feeling so useful after my time in Banff and then I came back and saw a colleague with her new baby, then my best friend gets knocked up, and I spend an evening with my other good friends with their two adorable girls (with my hubby reading the 3 year old bedtime stories and me feeding the infant her dinner) and all of a sudden, my gut is twisted with the yearning to be a mother. AND THEN I get an email from our adoption agency for prospective adoptive parents to have a house and yard, have one stay at home parent and lead an active athletic lifestyle for the Asian biracial child. Well, 1 out of 3 ain't bad. AND THEN I get a call from our adoption agency about a birth mother in the States who wants Christians and yes I have answered this question before in person and in my profile, we are NOT! I did however calmly pass along the suggestion to that they encourage the US agency to share our profile with the birth mother first to see if we share similar values. I quietly rage inside.

No amount of shopping, drinking, whining is going to fill me up and take away the panic I feel and I know it. I bought a t-shirt the other day. It was cute, it was orange, I didn't need it at all, but you know, I had to have something. If hubby is getting an external hard drive, then surely I can get a lousy t-shirt at Winners. Cause that will make me feel better. Hahaha. Oooh, look those shoes are on sale. I'll get those too. Why not? And that chocolate bar? Why not? Since I've been saying yes to treats a bit too much, I thought I'd go to the gym, work off the nervous negativity. Work up a good sweat, take care of my health. I stepped on the elliptical and hey, there's a People and an US magazine. Ooh, great, stories about actresses losing their baby weight, oh, look more pictures of filthy rich yummy mummies and their adorable children. Never mind, I'll just go home and wait for my senile mum to come over. Pulling up her diapers and putting a bib on her always makes me feel better.

Could be PMS, that's why I'm a little sensitive? My boobs are full and achey, mocking me. Pre-menstrual, pre-menopausal, whatever. The patience that I often talk about, just hanging in there five minutes longer? The equanimity, the perseverance? The waiting? You know, the thing I've been doing for years? It's chafing. I've had it. I mailed off the necessary information to hire a US lawyer (phone conference to follow), and I made a phonecall to a US adoption agency but they don't work with Canadians. I tried not to sound desperate. Today, I will try Ontario agencies and see what can be done and get our internet profile going. Now it's all about writing cheques. I mentally write a prescription for myself. One hour daimoku, Rescue Remedy, vitamins, exercise, I have a phonecall scheduled with a counsellor (for next week cause I love waiting), I've got it all planned out. Maybe I should put on my red stilettos cause if someone is going to snap my last nerve, I might as well be dressed for it so I can shove my heel up their ass.

Thanks, I feel better. The Buddhist with an Edge is on a roll.

Another birth mother panel

We attended a birthmother panel from our adoption agency last week. It is mandatory for all their clients. I have to preface this by saying that I am aware that I have a bias already, as one who wishes to adopt a child. I am also aware that their experiences don't always mirror the experiences of others. I'm leaving out a few identifying details as well. There were 3 birth mothers, including one who shared her experience last year. I have to say, that it was quite obvious that these young women loved their children. In no way did I get the impression that they did not consider the children they gave birth to as not theirs, though they did not claim proprietorship. One person asked what they looked for choosing a profile. They talked about looking for something that clicked with them, whether it was an activity they liked or a love of dogs. Of course, they were looking for a couple that were financially and emotionally stable. They noted that if they had gone through infertility, that was a plus because it showed the couple could weather hard times. Then they went through the book, picked the ones they liked and then met with each of them. Based on how those meetings go, they make a decision.

I did ask why they decided to not parent their children. They all said it was for financial reasons. Because of their life circumstances, including jerk boyfriends who broke up with them, they felt that they could not give the child what they deserved to have.

One girl was an adoptee herself. She expressed how painful it was growing up not knowing where she came from. She believed it was in the best interest of the child to know their original parents. Another girl had given up TWO of her children. She became pregnant in high school, relinquished the child and THEN changed her mind and kept the child for 4 months before giving the child back to the adoptive parents. The second time was a couple years later (apparently she forgot about the torment she went through) and became pregnant again. She made a remark about wanting to have children of our own one day but until then she could go to someone else's living room to see her children play.

Another birthmother expressed that she was having difficulty in seeing her young son because the adoptive parents were not returning her calls and letting her see the child on the birthday or Christmas. Her next step was for mediation. I don't know the details of her open agreement with the parents, I don't think it's legally enforceable, though, correct me if I'm wrong. I could tell she was really distressed about not being able to spend time with the child. At the same time, I could well imagine the adoptive mother trying to deal with a growing child's questions as to what role she played in the child's family life. She may have had holiday plans that did not include the birth mother or realized that she wanted to control the frequency of access to the child.

We left as soon as it was over, dashing out. I did have a charity function to go to but that wasn't the reason I was in such a hurry. I have to admit, I got the impression that adoptive parents had all expense and responsibility of raising a child and the birth mothers still wanted to play a big part in the child's life. The issue may be the frequency of contact, the type of contact and the fact that people often change their minds about open agreements. What happens when teenage rebellion rears its ugly head and the birth mother can easily become default parent? DH and I discussed the type of agreement that we could live with when we get chosen. I get that open adoption is what's best for the child, not the adults. I don't mind being in contact with a birth mother, knowing the person and important medical factors, but I don't want to have a monthly visitation either. I want to be a child's mother, not a babysitter or a guardian. I certainly know how DH feels and he happens to be a very protective person. Trust me when I tell you he's not as flexible as I am. I appreciate and respect a woman's choice to have a child and place it for adoption so that they can have a better life. That's a kind of sacrifice that I could never understand. I've already thought of the type of gift I would give the birth mother to commemorate the child's birth.

I've read adoptive parents' blogs about open adoption and I've read the books about how important it is for the child. I get it and I would never keep their origins a secret from them. I guess I just have to wait and see what happens and just keep my heart open.

Still waiting

We went to the adoption agency yesterday for a little face time. Just wanted to know what we could do to get things moving along. We were encouraged to hear that we were on the top of the list for a bi-racial baby and that we should hang in there. We have also discussed the possibility of posting on a couple of internet sites for more exposure in Canada. We would use a contact person there to handle any inquiries from birth mothers. I did learn though that the province of Ontario insists on anyone adopting out of there to hire a lawyer from there if the child is moving out of province. So in essence we'd be paying two lawyers when one lawyer would do. In Nova Scotia, adoptions are just plain discouraged. So the two provinces where we might find our bi-racial child, and thus avoiding US immigration, are proving to be problematic.

On our way home, hubby railed against the horrid expenses adoptive parents incur, as if infertile couples haven't shelled out enough money on fertility treatments and therapies, and that we'd be saving the province from supporting a needy child and why weren't they more helpful. That we could be using tens of thousands of dollars to buy that child an education or a new home or whatever. He ranted that there are some great people out there who could never undertake adoption because of the expense. I pointed out that it is only because we wanted a newborn and we could have chosen other options, like choosing an older child from a government waiting list. We did have choices. Not easy ones, but we did have choices. Not to mention, remaining childless. I know that's only one side of the whole equation, but his frustration was apparent. I can understand why it's so easy to be overwhelmed. Waiting can be very painful, as we all know. It can feel that you are being punished once again for not being fertile. There are so many people out there that could barely raise an objection never mind a child, but that doesn't stop them.

Ah, never mind. Onward and upward, back to the action plan.

Fishy situation

Well, that "situation" we were looking for more details on has dissolved. We got a follow up phone call from the agency and it looks like it could have gone south on us. The birthmother had 2 kids already, wanted $1000 a month and she was due in September. The director had a suspicious feeling about it. Like maybe she was just angling for financial support for the summer. We deferred to his better judgment. Remember that Dateline news show when they tracked a deranged woman who had promised a several couples her baby, and then took all their money and cut off all communication? One couple gave her several hundred dollars and the cameras tracked her spending it in Wal-Mart on baby clothes, etc. In the end, I don't even think she was pregnant. Yeah, didn't want that to happen to us. You're not allowed to pay for living expenses like that in Canada. Health care is ensured, so that's not a concern. And you don't have to pay a hospital bill after giving birth.


Hubby has gone over our profile and suggested we remove mention of my Buddhism because we don't mention his religious beliefs. He's a raving atheist. I countered that in lieu of that, we brought up his athleticism. I don't really have any hobbies other than blogging and sitting on patios with refreshing alcoholic beverages. He thought Buddhism might be considered too out of the norm for Christian agencies. Said if we were looking at it from a marketing angle, then we should be trying to "catch more fish" so to speak, then when we meet the birthmother we could be more specific about our beliefs. I pointed out that I had already blogged about that some time ago and sent him that link (as he does not read my blog, well, not after one particular post). We still haven't revisited that issue in any great length. I guess I could, just to be accommodating, but it's in our homestudy package. I don't know. I think he's wondering why we're not getting more inquiries (on account of we're so fabulous!) It also could be that we're in Canada and depending on which state the birthmother is from, it might be considered too far to consider.

I'm not worried, things will unfold as they will. I'd like to think that this will be the last summer as non-mum. Remind me of this when I start to panic and get all insecure and neurotic and worry again, okay?

Is being a Buddhist a deal breaker?

Last week we had another inquiry about a child in the States. Actually in a state my husband happens to be visiting in a few weeks for business. The director of our adoption agency asked me if we considered ourselves a Christian couple. Mmmm. No. That was the end of that. There's a reason why I mention that I'm a Buddhist in our profile. (And left out the part about my husband being an atheist.) I was concerned about it naturally because most people don't really know what a Buddhist is. Other than the most relevant point that a Buddhist does not believe in God. And that we wear orange robes, live in incensed filled homes and praise a smiling, fat Buddha statue. I don't want to get all excited and fly somewhere to meet a birth mum and then have to answer the inevitable religion question. It's odd that it could be a deal breaker since if this birth mother is Christian she is 1) "unexpectedly" knocked up 2) not married and 3) considering giving up parental rights to a child that her family/community won't help her raise. Perhaps it's just a comfort level thing. Would someone who has a better insight explain this to me? Teendoc just recently had her child baptised and it was a really big deal for her. It's a beautiful, touching and powerful ritual I know. Even though we were both baptised, I could not make the same promise.

I was raised Christian myself, going to church, Anglican, evangelical (okay my mum dragged us to this one and I read comics or Nancy Drew because the falling down and speaking in tongues freaked me out) and as an adult, Unity. I can't say I've read the entire bible, end to end, but I've read most of it, I really did look for answers. I sat in the pews and listened to the priests and it all sounded nice but somewhat hollow. I've received Holy Communion and drank the wine. I went to Baptist, Catholic, Protestant and United services. I've even had my spiritual moments. But what repulsed and disappointed me in the end was the astounding hypocrisy of so called believers. From laypeople to priests, I've seen the most disgusting behaviour, such indifference, such arrogance and moral laziness. Humanity is far from perfect I know and I don't blame God for that. However, when I was introduced to Buddhism, it was more of a philosophy that I could really understand in my heart. I was not required to denounce Christianity or anything else.
(As a matter of fact, most of the heated finger wagging comes from the former Catholics.)

It was another way of looking at the world, and the most empowering aspect was that I was accountable for the sanctity of my life and others. Just me. I am a Buddha. You are a Buddha. I don't worship a Buddha idol, I don't wear orange robes, and yes, I eat meat. My meditation is a chant that you say out loud. It gives me hope and courage and determination in the midst of happiness and in the midst of suffering. I try to help and encourage others. How is that a deal breaker?

A Buddhist goes up to a hot dog vendor and the hot dog vendor says, "What will you have?" and the Buddhist says, "I'll have one with everything." The vendor charges him $3.50 so the Buddhist gives him $5, but the vendor doesn't give him anything back. The Buddhist says, "Hey, what about my change?" and the vendor says, "Change comes from within."

Biology 101

Had a bit of a rant on the weekend. One of my Buddha-zilla moments where I rant about the hypocrosies of life. The utter unfairness of it all.

The abandoned baby girl left to die in a freezing stairwell of a mall in Ontario. The children who froze to death because their dad passed out drunk while carrying them outside in a blizzard.

I saw the Oprah show regarding young adults whose biological fathers were sperm donors. Some were content to just find out who they were and a couple were adamant about having the right to know who their fathers were and ideally wanted to have a relationship with them or any other siblings. They felt "incompete" as to their own identity.

These young adults knew their biological fathers were just sperm donors whose motivation was not to father but to make easy money and yet they still felt compelled look for them. What had their lives been like growing up? Did they not have non-biological fathers who raised them? I wanted to hear from the mothers of these kids. How did they feel? What did the fathers who raised them from the minute they came into the world feel? Would they make the same choices again?

Then I read an article in the paper about a woman convicted of murdering her husband(her child's father) who will be permitted to keep her child while she is incarcerated. It mentioned in the paper that she had had a very difficult life, being abused and abandoned as a child, raped as a teen, her substance abuse, and that she has 3 other children that had been removed from her custody. During her sentence, she will be living in a separate unit with its own kitchen and a park nearby, all the while being surrounded by a fence and prison guards.

A baby being raised in prison? Okay, it's not something I would have thought of as being a "good" thing for a child, but what do I know? Is it the ultimate act of compassion for a federal institution to permit this? Will this inspire the mother to become a better mother and person? With any luck, she won't be in jail for more than 4 years. What kind of playpen do you have for your child? Oh.... FEDERAL....

I saw a 20/20 show about a young Chinese couple whose daughter had been "coerced" from them under shady circumstances and how the American couple who attained custody of the child fought to get them deported out the country and away from the child. Eventually, the biological parents prevailed and they were awarded full custody of their 8 year old child. Then ironically, the American couple were allowed to keep in contact with the child and now they want the Chinese couple to be alowed to stay in America. There were several things that bothered me about the people involved, notwithstanding their breathtaking hyprocisy, but never mind. Don't get me started.

Then there is the issue of adoption, with the attachment issues, "primal wounds" and all that. My point is this: the issue of biology is extremely compelling. When people say, oh, why can't you just give up the dream (hello, Oprah), if you really want children you can always just adopt, or whatever, I know they don't really know what the fuck they're talking about. They don't really know what it's like to really want to have your own children and pursue all sorts of options, specifically repeated IVF procedures. Not to mention the grief suffered from infant loss, repeated miscarriages or destroyed marriages. There are no "oops" factors, no forgot to use birth control that one time, no hey, why don't we just have a kid sounds like a great idea at the time kind of thing. And then there's the whole mental and emotional shift to either the wild world of adoption or a child-free life.

The biological connection of child and parent. It's why we consider open adoption to be the best circumstance for a child, so they you have acess to medical and/or genetic information as well as an emotional connection. For the sake of the child. But there are always strings attached, sacrifices made. It comes at a cost that people are willing to pay for apparently. To love and raise a child in this world. Will their care and nurturing be sufficient for that child or will they find their completion in the biological connection? Will my child ever look me straight in the eyes and say, "No, I want to know my real mother and father?" I guess what I'm saying is that will I have the wisdom to know what that means or will I feel that my parenting was just a substitution for the real thing?

Good news!

Just got back from my breast ultrasound. It's just a cyst. I can't believe they even told me, I was prepared to wait to hear back from the doctor, but they told me. I'm so relieved! Yeah, I was a bit worried. My life has been so full of major disappointments and setbacks, I was not prepared for another one. As I told the news to my husband as we left, tears flooded my eyes. Today is the day my dear friend is undergoing surgery to remove cancer from her lymph nodes. I'm fine, but she's not. Yet. 3 years later, she's still fighting for her life.

I've had more good news today. I got not one, but two phone calls from the adoption agency for a boy to be born in March and one in July. My head was spinning. I haven't even completed a final version of our adoption profile. The homestudy has yet to be signed off by the adoption agency. I haven't even done the birth mother letter yet. Yikes. But hubby is totally gung-ho about it. We still have a couple of marriage counselling sessions to go to though. I guess I'd be jumping for joy, but for the fact that the security I used to feel in my marriage has been shaken. And as much as I'm ready to make changes to address my husband's needs, I'm now ready to have my own needs addressed. My health issues have been quite minor compared to a lot of people's, but it has taught me to not take life for granted. If you want happiness in this world, you have to go out there and grab it!

At my Buddhist discussion group last night, someone shared this incredible experience and it gave me so much hope. It was about determining to get what you want, no matter how lofty the goal. That's what I will do.

Me... a mother?

The last couple years, I've been part of a project called A Mother's Story, initiated by a local actress. She was asking other actresses to write the stories of their mums, living or deceased. It came at a really good time for me, as I was growing into the role of guardian for my mum. And as I wrote the story, I realized that there was a lot about her that I didn't know. We never really talked about her personal history. My mum was of the West Indian ilk who instructed and complained to her children. We didn't really have a "friendship". She was the parent, I was the child, the end.

So I concentrated on how our relationship is at present. Another actress suggested we "collage" our stories and that turned in to a staged reading with about 25 of us, reading parts of our collectives stories. Then this spring,we put on A Mother's Story at a stage downtown for Mother's Day. We served tea and cakes before the show to everyone. The show was sold out 3 weeks before we did it. Then another performance this fall at a Unity church as a fundraiser. It's always emotional, funny, touching and serves as a reminder for us all that motherhood is extremely powerful. My mum has been in the audience on two occasions. I can't look at her though or I lose it. She told me she's proud of me.

After the show, I usually get asked by an audience member if I have children. I always smile and say no, and change the subject. Strangely enough, I never get questioned as to why I don't. Maybe it's the look in my eye or something, I don't know.

Next spring, I may answer yes to that question. Sometimes, in the midst of all the concern about money, social worker visits, books to read and courses to take, I forget that I will be a mother one day. I've never really felt like a mother to be, my lovely dog not withstanding. The closest I've ever come to that was I was swollen up like a beach ball after egg retrieval.

What if a birth mother chooses us and we find out it's a boy? I kinda want a girl. We both do actually. What do I do? Say, "No thanks" like someone is offering me a stick of gum? What's the etiquette for this? I have no idea.

What if I can't produce enough breastmilk? Oh, don't even get me started on adoptive breastfeeding. I went to a site that had so much friggin' hardware to go along with it, I freaked out! And you don't want to know what my hubby thinks of it. I told him my boobies were going south whether he liked it or not. I think he's terrified because he's seen my mother naked (not intentionally of course, but sometimes dementia patients don't feel like wearing clothes, heh, heh).

What if I don't know how to make it stop crying during teething? I don't think they approve of brandy on the pacifier like my mum did. I don't think my mum can help me out anymore.

I don't know what's in the baby aisle in the drugstore. I've always avoided it. Unless I need Q-tips.

Jeepers, I've got a lot to learn. That means I'm going to have to go in a baby store and actually look around. I'm kinda freaking out about that, too.

I wonder what story my little kid will tell about me? Or the birth mother? Oh, man.

3rd Homestudy Visit

We had #3 visit couple nights ago. I did share some of my comments about the questionnaire and she did explain why they were there. For example, the query about sexual difficulties could be a sign that the marriage is in trouble. Really, I'm sure there aren't too many couples checking that one off. Mind you,between my bad back, and my husband's cold sore, we're not getting any, but we kept that to ourselves. (Maybe that's why my subconscious picked up on that one? Mmmm.)

It went pretty well until we talked about the time we had separated briefly 2 years before we were married. When I say briefly, I mean a few days. Then we went for couples counselling which ended up with me continuing solo with counselling for depression. Now she had made it clear that she thought it was good to seek help when you need it, but still I felt, well, a little less than perfect. She asked about what would be things we wouldn't tolerate in our relationship. My husband's was infidelity, mine was disrespect. Disrespect covers a lot of ground, from not valuing who I am to being belittling and mean. I saw a lot of that when I was growing up and I'm sensitive to that. I don't think I would divorce him over infidelity, I'd want to stay married and make him suffer for a while. I'm such a nice Buddhist, eh?

All in all, it went well, we're meeting again in a couple of weeks. This time she gave us questions about child rearing to think about. However, I guess we can have our ideas about something but it's something that we'll have to experience to truly know.

I felt pretty drained after the visit. I was pretty quiet on the way home. Why, why, why? I started analyzing everything. The questions, our responses. Did I look upset, I think I got pretty quiet after a certain point which is a dead giveaway that I'm upset or concerned. I didn't like talking about the time I was being treated for depression. It reminded me of my vulnerabilities, the whole feeling of not being good enough, at a time when I am sitting in front of a social worker whose job it is to satisfy the powers that be that I am good enough to adopt a child. Cripes, even as an actress auditioning, at least I have a script! I've got time to prepare.

You know, there's a lesson in all this for me. When you're auditioning, there's this thing we call a "stink" on you when you really want the part. It's called desperation and they can smell it. It's not an attractive thing. And you never get the part. Darn it, I should have chanted an hour before the meeting. That would have chilled me out and connected me to a place of calm. Okay, next time.

Ah, so that's why I feel so drained!!! I am auditioning! I'm "improv"-ing for an hour and a half. But it's real life, it's our life. I want the role of being a parent. Remember Sally Field when she won an Oscar for Norma Rae ("you like me, you really like me!")? That's what it's like.

Ohmigod, I just had a thought, maybe they should make homestudies more like Donald Trump's The Apprentice.

It's a 12 week interview. We get judged along with other potential adoptive parents. The parents could be split into teams. Team Open Adoption and Team International Adoption.

One of the tasks is that we get a "baby" doll that cries at all hours of the night and poops at will. We can tell it stories about the time it was adopted and came into our lives on "gotcha" days. The judges could be Brad & Angelina and Madonna & Guy. We would be judged on our nighttime adoption stories and Life Books. Extra points could go to the couple who does adoptive breastfeeding. How will they handle issues of attachment and grief and loss? Stay tuned for next week's exciting episode.

Will Team Open Adoption raise enough money for their adoption or will they be forced to cash in their RRSPs, or take out (duh, duh, duh) a bank loan? Will Team International Adoption have to face the fact that their country of choice is now closed under shady accusations of a child sex slave ring, be bogged down permanently in a sea of bureaucratic immigration red tape or fall victim to infighting due to the indecision of which country is cheaper?

It's Must See TV!

Birthmother Panel

Okay, so we went to a birth mother panel sponsored by my adoption agency. Quite a lot of people there, but we were the only biracial couple there. And the best looking I might add. It felt terribly awkward to sit in a circle of strangers cautiously eyeing each other. Wow, I wonder what their story is? Are they infertile like us?

There were 2 birth mothers there and they shared their experiences. They were both eloquent, heartfelt and touching. I learned a lot.

One of the things I learned was there needs to be open and clear communication between both parties. It's predicated on one couple's desire for a child and the other's desire for a continued relationship with that child. As much I as deeply want to parent a child, I can't get past the fact that a birth mother can change her mind. That happened to another blogger out there and though she understood, she was devastated.

Boundaries need to be established and respected on both sides. Both of the girls didn't necessarily set out wanting to have a relationship with the child, but they changed their perspective within the first few months after giving birth. They said that they were both deeply affected by hormones after birth and weren't thinking very clearly and weren't really sure of their emotions. Good to know about that now.

Another thing I learned was that as an adoptive parent, I should not just make assumptions about how she feels. That in trying to protect her feelings, I might inadvertently make things worse for her. For example, one girl gave birth and was promptly discharged within hours and no acknowledgement that she even gave birth. No flowers, no cards, no kind words from anyone including her family, adoptive parents or hospital staff. That's too cold.

One of the young women actually had sleepovers with her little girl who looked in the mirror and noticed that she shared the same nose. And had spent a week with her. Not sure I could do that. Given that the adoptive parents hadn't told the little girl she was adopted yet, I found it admirable that the birth mother trusted them implicitly that the adoptive parents would deal with that.

We can name the child, though. Wasn't sure about that. One of the things I used to day dream about was the name of my future child. I had one picked out for a girl. But if I get a girl, I'm not sure I will use it. Can you understand why? Somehow it doesn't seem fair.

One of the young women mentioned that she was looking for financially stable adoptive parents. I felt a little like a fraud, knowing full well that we'd most likely have to borrow or cash in our RRSPs (so we don't go further into debt) to complete the process. Now I understand why people hold fundraisers. We're not celebrities, we're just regular people trying to have a regular life. We have bills. We go to Starbucks (but not every day). We have a dog who sleeps in a bed better than most of the world has. We use coupons and if it's not on sale, we don't get it. If we had conceived on our own, we'd probably own our little overpriced townhouse furnished by Ikea. We'd be living on one salary and anything I earn would go to the baby's education fund.

But we didn't, IVF didn't work for us the way it worked for others. Somewhere in the universe, that makes perfect sense. Having said that, I determine to make as much money as I possibly can. I've already booked a gig for this month on a TV show, now I just need it to keep it rolling. We are also considering looking at Ontario for a prospective birth mother.

There will be an adoptive parent panel next week that we'll be attending. I'll let you know what happens.

2nd homestudy visit

I had a good feeling that our visit was going to go well. Yes we cleaned, and yes, she actually looked around. As I mentioned I had my family visiting, but they went out to visit my mum. After sitting down with some tea, she sent hubby to the office with a lengthy questionnaire to fill out and then she started asking me questions about how I saw myself as a person. Well, that's a favourite subject of mine but luckily I forced myself to be brief and somewhat modest. Then 3 words to describe my hubby and again, I tried to be brief and concise. When it got around to discussing my spirituality, it got a little sticky. So many of the profiles I've seen mention Christian, church going people. And in some international adoptions, you won't be considered unless you're a Christian. And I'm not even sure if they mean church going or does one just mention the denomination of a baptismal certificate. Is this someone you mention in an adoption profile for birth mothers to see or if they choose you, you tell them.

Not that many people know about Buddhism. There are many sects and beliefs, myths and assumptions. And what they do know consists mainly of images of a golden Buddha or saffron robed monks. I just explained her to my practice and what it means to me. It turned out to be more lengthy than I intended, as sometimes when you explain one thing, you have to explain something else. My community involvement extends mainly in that area as we've done cultural exhibits open to the public.

Frankly, I was raised a Christian, went to Sunday school and all that. Was forced to sit through some scary Pentecostal service as well. But as a Buddhist a consistent daily practice takes discipline, not something you can force a child to do. Usually at our meetings, the kids are watching a video or playing or something. I'd like my child to know that kindness, compassion and respect for all beings isn't just the domain of one philosophy or religion.

In due course, it my turn to go to the office and fill out the questionnaire. Mmm. Not sure I like multiple answer reports. Some of the choices weren't really applicable, or even realistic. I mean, really, what family isn't dysfunctional on some level? It asked how our respective families would feel about our future adopted child. Neither of us give rat's ass what they think really. They're not doing the work nor are they paying for any of the process. If they love us, they'll love our child and if they don't, too bad for them.

All in all, the visit was fairly intense because it really wasn't a conversation, it was more like here's the question, what's the answer kind of thing. Still, we shared a laugh at the end and set another appointment at her place. She told us to expect questions about our marriage. I asked her about her marital status and she admitted she'd been divorced twice. I said great, she either would be commiserating or taking notes.

Keep reminding me this is better than sticking myself with hormones.

The Homestudy Blues

Teendoc reminds me that when we do finally adopt, the child really will be ours. Then why does all the stuff the adoption agency makes you read make me feel like I would be sharing a child? My fear is that basically I have to deal with all the hard work, responsibility, and maintain communication between the birth mother and her/my child, and she gets to visit whenever she wants. Am I just being paranoid? Is this the trade-off for being there for the first smile, the first steps, the first "Mummy". Do I call the birth mother every time the kid has a fever? Oh, man, maybe I'm just making myself unnecessarily crazy over something that hasn't even happened yet. I do have a tendency to try and cover all the angles so that I can be "prepared".

Then I was reading about post placements with international adoptions. Well, that was fucking cheery. That article basically had every freaking nightmare included. Hidden medical problems, psychotic behaviour due to previous abuse, families being torn apart. Lovely.

Then when I think I'm being heartless, how I would I feel if I were in the birth mother's shoes? I feel like I'm doing something wrong - why am I taking another woman's child? I keep telling myself that it's not my feelings that are important, it's the child's. He/she needs to know where they came from and who they are. Oi, my head hurts.

I often wonder how my life will change when I walk through the doors with a wee one. I mean, I'm practically allergic to early mornings. Having my sleep interrupted? I'm a bear. Even my dog sleeps in. My husband doesn't dare wake me when he gets ready for work. What about my mum? I visit with her 3 times a week and take her out shopping or browsing up and down the street. Not to mention my Buddhist meetings. My husband often travels for work. Can I manage it all? Mind you, if I had become pregnant, I'd still be left with these same questions. And people do this every day. Right?

Adoption is not a cure for infertility. Most people think, oh, you can't have kids, just adopt and your problem is solved. I was reading Teendoc's post today and she mentioned that sometimes she still feels a little pang of envy when she sees a pregnant woman even though she loves being a mom to her little girl. I confess, too, that I feel the same way.

This whole homestudy thing just brings up those feelings of inadequacy. I have to sit and answer questions about my life and habits, to be judged worthy or not by this stranger scribbing away. I want to scream, hey, I'm a real fucking person, I'm not perfect, I have bad hair days, I don't believe in violence, war or wearing white after Labour Day (oh, did i say labour? Sorry). I pick up my dog's shit, how bad can changing a diaper be? I promise not to leave the kid on top of my car!

Jeepers.

1st Homestudy visit

Here we go. We had our first meeting with the social worker for our homestudy. One of the questions she asked was why did we want to adopt? Good thing we talked about that as we walked to her apartment. It seems like an obvious answer, but how would you answer it?

a) I want a kid

b) I want cheap labour

c) it seemed like such a waste to spend all my spare money on fun filled vacations and pedicures.

d) Always wanted to do a criminal background check on myself!

She also asked what we would do if the child was allergic to our dog. My husband answered right away, of course, the dog would have to go to friends. My first thought? The kid goes. Kidding, folks. She was writing all our responses down so I thought it might be best to keep my warped sense of humour to myself for a while.

We're also working on doing some required online courses. The conspicuous family learning module was a little ludicrous for us. We're already a conspicuous couple (I'm black, he's white) and we live in culturally diverse neighbourhood in a culturally diverse city. Pretty hard to swing a dead marmot around here without hitting an ethnic restaurant of one type or another. So the part where we put the coloured dots on all the people and places we know was pretty stupid. From the time I was a kid, my surroundings, friends, co-workers, neighbourhood was quite diverse, though speaking for myself, I was usually in the minority. I can see the course might be applicable to, for example, a Caucasian couple adopting a Chinese child in a small, predominantly white town.

I'm sure we'll learn more in the rest of the courses. At the moment, my husband thinks kids in school are going to pick on a kid who is adopted. Kids are mean, he says. I think that kids get picked on for a whole bunch of reasons, so I don't see why my kid would be singled out for that alone. Any thoughts on this?