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Archive for the ‘Adulthood’ Category

Because Of Course

I once read (in a peer reviewed academic article) that moms who have relinquished experience secondary infertility at higher rates than the general population.

I have several hypotheses as to why this might be so, but I have no data to back any of them up and I’m not sure that right now my hypotheses matter.

What I do know is that right now I’m struggling with feelings and self hate. If I believed in God maybe I could foist the hate in his or her direction, but I don’t so instead I am the recipient of my own emotion.

Did you know you could have PCOS without having any actual ovarian cysts? Based on the tests I’ve had, the books I’ve read, the doctors I’ve seen, and yes some unwise google searches it’s not going to be easy for me to get pregnant now that I want to. Because of course it’s not. Either eating my feelings has made me fat and fucked up my hormones or my fucked up hormones have made me fat but either way I’m not in prime baby making shape. I was supposed to have a GYN follow up in January, but I chose to not attend. I’ll reschedule eventually. I will. I always do.

It’s quite possible I gave away my only shot at parenthood. It’s also quite possible that fear of repeat unplanned pregnancy led to me pumping myself full of hormones for the last 13 years which has me all out of whack now. Either way I did this to myself.


Sometimes It’s Hard

Sometimes it’s hard being a Black* Chick married to a White Guy.  Being a six hour plane ride from my family and only a 45 minute from his makes it harder.  We spend a lot of time with them which only increases the amount of time I spend in soley white spaces.  White, conservative, Christian spaces. It takes a lot of energy to be the right kind of me for that. I always end the evening drained. I don’t say this to play the martyr. I LOVE my sister-in-law even if she was born in the 90s and I have to exclaim “WHY ARE YOU SO YOUNG” way too often when she doesn’t immediately understand my pop culture references.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I had (more) Black friends.

School is a bit more diverse, but there are no other Black social work doctoral students. Chinese, Korean, Japanese, White, Indian (from India), Mexican, Latino American but I’m the only Black. It’s great to be around such diversity the international components and perspectives are great.

But I wish I had (more) Black friends.

I wish I could talk about white privilege without having to qualify it and jump to intersectionality to quell the “but I’m not as privileged as…” comments. I wish I could talk mention racism without having to immediately apologize.

I’m tired of conversations like the one I had yesterday.

“I’m not saying he’s a racist I’m saying what he said was racist.”

“lets say…condescending…or problematic…”

“uhhh it was racist”

“thats not helpful”

I wish I had Black friends.

I want to go see Dear White People. TeacherMan admits he thinks it may make him uncomfortable**. I know how that feels. I don’t want to be the cause of that so I told him I’d go see it alone. This upsets him.

I wish I had Black friends.

*I used to use the term Black-ish, but now thats a tv show. so yeah.

**Not the word he used but I can’t remember the exact word so close enough.

Open Adoption RoundTable #38: It’s Your Day

It’s that time again; OAR time. It happens to also be that time again; Mother’s Day week. Because the two coincide Heather has given us the following prompt:

Write to someone else in the adoption constellation (someone specific or a general group). What do you want to say to them on Mother’s Day?

Dear First Mothers, Birth Mothers, Natural Mothers, Biological Mothers, Mothers of Adoption Loss, Mothers who’ve relinquished parental rights, Mothers who’ve had parental rights terminated, Mothers who aren’t parenting their children…

Mother’s day is your day too. Whether in addition to birth mother’s day or instead of birth Mother’s day; Mother’s day is your day too.

That being said, it being a day for you doesn’t mean you have to celebrate it or even acknowledge it. It’s your day you decide how you want to spend it. Mothers day brunch with family, friends, or on your own sound good? Do it! Taking yourself to movie more your style? Do it! Want to spend the day quietly in your garden? Do it! Want to wear your motherhood out in the open on a t-shirt or what-have you? Do it! Want to stay in bed all day with a book or DVD? Do it!

This day is your day too. Don’t allow anyone to convince you you don’t have the right to spend it however you want.

Open Adoption RoundTable #35: Grandparents

Heather has asked that for this OAR we write about adoption and grandparents. Click through to see the other responses to the prompt.

My mother, Kidlet’s biological maternal grandmother, was the first (non hospital staff) to hold him. She was in the operating room during my c-section and held him up to my face as they closed my incision.

My father, Kidlet’s biological maternal grandfather, wheeled me down to the NICU to see Kidlet after we’d been separated for post op recovery.

And yet despite these very distinct memories I have a lot of anger and resentment toward my parents. I’m trying to get past it. To let it go. But, it’s not that easy.

During my pregnancy I felt alone. Ignored. I remember the harsh words more clearly than the gentle moments, and in turn I want to punish them in a similar way to how I felt punished.

Any time I was sick, whether it was pregnancy related or a migraine I’d be reminded that it was my own fault.

When TheEx’s parents kept pushing adoption my parents didn’t stand up for me. Didn’t even hint that maybe I could be a good mother.

A year after placement my mother gave a bunch of baby clothes to a friend. Baby clothes she’d bought for Kidlet without telling me. I’d believed my parents when they’d said I’d see no help from them. How was I to know they’d been stocking up on baby clothes on anticipation of me parenting.

When they ask for new pictures or information I want to hold out on them. I want to withhold their grandson. The grandson they are partially responsible for living 3000 miles away.

I know my parents love me and Kidlet. Without a doubt. I also know they were being true to our family’s communication style (or lack thereof). I try not to hold it against them, but it’s hard.

It’s hard, when M suggests momma and I stay with them when she and I go to their state for some genealogy research in 2013. I want to yell, “why should she get to infringe on my Kidlet time. What right does she have?! ”

She has the same right any other grandmother has. Perhaps that’s the key. Remembering them as Kidlet’s grandparents, imperfect as they may be instead of as my imperfect parents.

Open Adoption Roundtable #25:I Won’t Walk Away

I’m not sure if Heather is clairvoiant or just a genius, but as always the roundtable topic is timely.

In January we responded to a series of questions about how hard open adoption is, my January post can be found here and you can find a list of the other January OAR posts here.

This time we’ll take it a step further and explore the question:

Has open adoption ever felt like too much? Have you ever wanted to walk away?

For the last few weeks I’ve been taunted by a recurring twitter post and a half finished blog post sits in my drafts folder about it. Basically, I saw an obnoxious tweet and chose to ignore it.  Then I saw it again and rolled my eyes and continued on with my day.  Then it popped up a third time and I typed up a reply but never tweeted it hitting delete instead. The fourth time I saw it I grabbed a screen shot and debated blogging about it not wanting to give the offending tweeter an extra publicity…so I crossed out the name and url…

and then i sat and stared at the computer screen and wanted to scream “ADOPTION ISN’T MEANT TO BE EASY ASSHOLE” Because really it’s marketing like that right there that is the problem, or at least part of the problem.  Convincing people that it’s supposed to be easy and then they’re shocked when it isn’t.  Because as we discussed in January Adoption isn’t easy.

So back to the current prompt, Has open adoption ever felt like too much.  Short answer YES.

Long answer: It’s too much to watch someone else raising your child. It’s too much to watch him display behaviors and wonder if it’s your fault either because of your genes or because your presence has thrown off his routine.  It’s too much to watch him be comforted by someone else. It’s too much  to wish that pristine medical history you gave at 18 could stay pristine each time you call and report yet another illness that has cropped up in the family.  It’s too much to have to explain adoption to your five year old niece who wants nothing more than to have a sleepover with her cousin.  It’s too much to watch your sister sharing all the family traditions with her kids that you will never get to share with yours. It’s all just too too much.

Have I ever wanted to walk away? No, not really.  Open adoption is hard and all sorts of too much, but I don’t think closed adoption would be easy and it would have it’s own aspects that were also too much.  Too much not knowing, not getting to watch and see and too much wondering. Losing Kidlet to adoption the first time did things to me, it changed me.  Losing the small bit of him I have of him through openness would kill me stop me in my tracks for a long long while. And yet, while the question is clearly phrased asking if I’ve ever WANTED to walk away you may have noticed that in one of the posts I linked to I  was prepared to do just that.  I’d do anything for that kid so if a time comes where he needs me to step back I’ll do it but until then no amount of “hard” or “too much” is going to make me want to walk away.  I won’t abandon him a second time.  I won’t do it.