Sunday, October 4, 2009

Listening To...

"I didn't know your mother
But this is what I have been told
That she cried and she cried
When she gave you up at three days old
She was from the countryside in Cambodia,
A farmer's wife with too many mouths to feed
She wanted you to see a better life


Love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you
Love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you

Now you don't look like me
And baby we don't look like you
But our love is so complete
It don't matter eyes are brown or blue
There are people in this world
Who won't understand this family
We'll protect you where we can
Sometimes you'll have to stand and help them see


'Cause love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you
Love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you


Every night when I watch you sleep
I want to watch over you forever
Keep you safe with me
And I wish I could promise you a beautiful world
That would never break your heart
Maybe that's what we are here for
We try and fix what comes apart


Love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you
Love takes the best of you, Love takes the best of you"

~ "Love Takes the Best of You" by Catie Curtis

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Open Adoption


I’m a big fan of open adoption, but I will be the first to admit it ain’t easy. We have a semi-open adoption with Lil Sweetie’s birthmom, which means we send her letters and photos and gifts through the adoption agency but do not know her last name or contact information. Or that’s the way it is supposed to work, anyway. The hospital left the bracelet on Lil Sweetie when I brought her home from the hospital and so I know that she was once “Baby Girl X”. The adoption agency said that happens a lot.

I feel a little guilty about that, but you can’t unring a bell. I just try to be extra-special careful not to reveal the name of Lil Sweetie’s birthmom to anyone. Only a few very close friends even know her first name, and I think only me, Mr. Sweetie, and my mother know the last name.

We have had one meeting with Lil Sweetie’s birthmom, Ashley (not her real name). She requested it when Lil Sweetie was about 6 months old. The meeting was at the adoption agency and a social worker was there to help us along but it went fine. We ate pizza and cookies and Lil Sweetie played on the floor with her toys and looked adorable, and I took a jillion photos of her with her birthmom, and that was it. I was afraid that Ashley might cry and it would be difficult, but her reaction seemed to be more of disbelief, like she couldn’t believe that this creature had actually come out of her body. There are two things that I remember vividly from that meeting. The first I am ashamed to admit, but I was secretly pleased that Lil Sweetie seemed to prefer me over Ashley. How ridiculous is that? As if it were a competition! Ashley will always be Lil Sweetie’s birthmom and I will always be the mother who raised her. Both roles are important. I know that intellectually, but emotionally, I guess I had a fear that some instinctual bond would draw Lil Sweetie to her birthmom and leave me out in the cold. Silly!

The other thing I remember vividly is that Ashley said that Lil Sweetie looks just like Ashley’s mom. I am so curious about this woman! I would so love to see a photo of her. I would so love to know what her deal is, as she has refused to acknowledge that Ashley has a daughter she placed for adoption. But that is a whole ‘nother story, one that I am not privy to.

When Lil Sweetie was about 4 years old, Ashley requested another meeting. We agreed, and it was all set up. Mr. Sweetie and I took off work because the meeting was going to be held during business hours at the adoption agency, and we arranged to pick up Lil Sweetie early from pre-K. Because Lil Sweetie was old enough to understand more of what was going on, we let her know that we were going to see her birthmom and let her be somewhat involved with the planning. I thought it might be a little awkward, so I let Lil Sweetie pick out party supplies and cupcakes, thinking that would give us something to do. We also packed up Lil Sweetie’s scrapbook thinking Lil Sweetie could show it to Ashley and it would give them things to talk about.

Well, at the last minute, Ashley called the adoption agency and cancelled. I have to admit I was livid. On one hand, I can imagine that meeting your 4-year-old birth child would be extremely difficult and would bring up a lot of emotions. But my job is to look out for Lil Sweetie, and I was terrified that this would scar her in some way.

But Lil Sweetie handled it like a trooper. We went ahead and picked her up early and told her we wanted her to be the first to know that Ashley had had something come up at work and could not make the meeting after all. Lil Sweetie’s biggest concern (that she vocalized, anyway) was whether she was still going to get a cupcake. I think at the age she was, she didn’t understand enough to feel rejected by Ashley’s cancellation. I think she just picked up her cues from us, and we acted like we were little disappointed but ok with the cancellation and so she was too.

I do want to mention how great our adoption agency was. I spoke to the Director about my concerns over the cancellation, and in my anger, I have to admit that I mentioned that all our correspondence with Ashley was one-way, that she had never sent a card or note or anything to Lil Sweetie ever. The Director assured me that she would not allow another meeting to be scheduled without first meeting with Ashley and making certain that she felt she could go through with it. She also told Ashley that it wasn’t fair to Lil Sweetie for the openness to go only one way. One of the many things that I love about our adoption agency is that I feel they are extremely fair in advocating for both the birthmoms and the adopted children. I also think it is amazing that years after Lil Sweetie’s adoption, they are still here for us, facilitating our open adoption and offering advice when we call with adoption-related questions.

Even in light of the cancelled meeting, I still am a big fan of open adoption. I think it is healthier for Lil Sweetie that she knows her birthmom’s name and has photos of her. So far, Lil Sweetie has not wanted to write Ashley on her own, but she often tells me things to say to her or questions to ask when she knows I am writing her. She helps me pick out gifts for Ashley and often gives me a picture she has drawn or some schoolwork she wants to include in our package to Ashley. I just think it is good for Lil Sweetie that her birthmom is not some scary concept to her but rather a real person with a name and a face.

I won’t lie and say it is easy. It is odd. In some ways, I have such love for Ashley. She did a beautiful thing when she gave her child a life and a family. I know it was terribly difficult for her, and yet she did it anyway. I love her fiercely for that. I feel almost maternal towards her. On the other hand, she is very much a stranger to me. I know her favorite color and what kind of pizza she likes and I have a vague idea of what she does for a living, but that’s it. This makes gift purchases extremely challenging! I get frustrated for her when she makes bad choices in life. (We hear vague references to what is going on in her life through the adoption agency.) I want her to make good choices and have a good life, both because she did an extremely difficult and beautiful thing and I think she deserves it, and also because I want her to be someone that my child can be proud of. So it is very odd having such intense feelings for a person who is basically a stranger to you.

So, our open adoption is far from perfect. Still, the only regret we have is that our adoption is not MORE open. Most adoptive families we know feel the same way. If that doesn’t speak well for open adoption, I don’t know what would.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Play Date

I've been feeling so verklempt lately. Yesterday I had another procedure on my eye for a tear in the retina. It was very Not Fun. So today, I had a play date. With myself. No, not that kind, you filthy monkey! I made stuff with paint and glue. I am not all that artistic, but I've decided that the process is the point, not the outcome. I had fun painting and pasting and at the end, I felt decidedly less verklempt. And that, was definitely the point.

This first one is supposed to be about Hope but the words smeared a little.




I like the effect of the smearing on the word "Fear" in this next one. I think it works. It needed something else so I added the postage stamp and now it makes me smile because I think "fear of postage" when I see it.



This next one is not about anything, but I like it. The background is sort of bright pink and tangerine and I really think the postage pops on it.



This next one is about Faith, and I cut the edge off when I took the photo. It's missing something, I think, but I haven't figured out what yet.


This last one features a horoscope I liked. I only believe the good ones. I doodled on this one a little, which is a challenge for me. I have absolutely no talent for drawing whatsoever.



I don't know what to call these. I started off trying to make Artist Trading Cards but the small size intimidated me so these are a little bigger. Altered Index Cards? I know, I'll call them therapy.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

God bless Oklahoma

So yesterday, I was shopping at Target. I was on the household cleaners aisle with no one else in sight. Here's what happened:

Me: ACHOO!
Random stranger on the next aisle: Bless you!
Me: Thank you!
RS: You're welcome!

I just love living in a place where random strangers will bless you for no reason other than that you happened to sneeze.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

How Blue Can I Get?

I love the blues. LOVE them. I love how blues singers take a bad situation and just WALLOW in it, even as they sometimes poke fun at themselves for doing so. Singing the blues just cheers me up, it really does.

"I'm gonna lay my head on some lonesome railroad line and let the 2:19 train ease my troubled mind." Now that is some wallowin', don'tcha know!

So, lately I've been singing the blues a lot. My eye is still healing which is making many of my favorite things, such as crafts and reading, rather challenging. (Also, y'all, get up right now, close one eye and try to clean your bathtub. It can't be done with one eye! I never knew so many things required good vision!) My sister-in-law's situation has not changed, and I'm just frustrated as hell about it. (I can't imagine why getting treatment for cancer takes so dang long. I mean, I know the process can be a long one, but why does just getting starting take so dang long? I'm pretty sure people have been cured of cancer in the time we've been waiting for her to start treatment.) I'm worried about my other sister-in-law, who just went through a divorce, is juggling a job and two kids and a sick sister. I'm worried about my hubby. And my father-in-law. Lil Sweetie's birthmom is going through some hard times. The bathroom remodel has completely stalled. There are mice in my garage and the dogs have fleas and I'm pretty sure locusts and frogs must be right around the corner.

Life is just hard right now. It really is. And the weird thing is that it is hard right now for so many people I know. Although I don't actually believe in astrology, I'm pretty sure the stars are out of alignment. They must be. We are just going through a gigantic cosmic shit storm.

But that blues song I quoted above?* It goes on to say: "I won't be blue always, you know the sun is gonna shine in my back door someday."

*"Trouble in Mind" if you were wondering, recorded by such greats as Johnny Cash, Nina Simone, Janis Joplin, Muddy Waters...sheesh, who hasn't recorded it?

So just let me wallow for a little while. I'll be all right. (And just to clarify, I have no actual intention of laying my head on any railroad tracks, although I do enjoy singing about it at the top of my lungs.)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Attachments

Well, the doc says my retina has completely reattached. Hallelujah! I'm very disappointed that my vision is still not back to normal but the doc says that my eye is still healing and to be patient. Patience is not something that comes easy to me. I would like my vision to be back to normal NOW, please.

Today was my first day back at work. It went well. I am so blessed to have a job that I enjoy, working with bosses and coworkers I like and respect. The older I get, the more I appreciate the little things. No, that's not right. The older I get, the more I realize the little things are not little things at all.

Monday, August 3, 2009

A Feeling of Detachment

I always felt like I got cheated in the grandparent department. My mother's parents both died when she was a child so I have no memory of maternal grandparents. From what I've been told, my father's father was a rascally ol' toot when my dad was a boy, but by the time I entered the picture, Granddaddy had mellowed into a fine imitation of Santa Claus. The man spoiled me rotten. But alas, he died when I was in second grade so I didn't get to have him long. Maybe on some level he knew, and that's what all the spoiling was about.

So that left Grandmother, my father's mother. Not Grandma, not MeeMaw, no it was Grandmother or nothing, and you better make sure to enunciate the "d" in the middle or she would be sure to correct you. She was not the traditional granDmother at all...no cookie-baking for her. She was tall and thin and always perfectly coiffed and dressed. She smelled of cigarettes and permanent solution (she was a hairdresser by trade, a career woman before her time).


She felt it was her personal mission in life to improve the people around her, which sounds admirable but is not much fun actually. Try writing your granDmother a letter, only to have it returned with the grammar, punctuation and spelling corrected for your betterment. Ah, fun times.

One of her quirks was that she was the self-appointed guardian of our eyesight, and she was always, ALWAYS telling us not to rub our eyes, lest we get a detached retina. Apparently one of her "patrons" as she called them, got a detached retina and it was her goal in life to prevent that fate from befalling anyone in her family.

Ok, so fast forward a bazillion years and we come to last Sunday, when I suddenly lost part of my vision in my right. Oh no, I thought, I've detached my retina! Well, low and behold if that wasn't the case. GranDmother is up in heaven tsking away and saying "I told you so" right now, I just know it.

So, I have had some horrible medieval torture devices used on me in the name of medicine and am now recuperating at home where I must rest on my left side for the next seven to ten days. Not as easy or as restful as you would think.

To top things off, my beloved SIL has a malignant tumor the size of a grapefuit and a benign tumor the size of a watermelon, both in her abdomen. She is in the hospital awaiting a battle plan. Prayers and healing thoughts are encouraged and appreciated.