my non-baby and my maybe-baby

James is two. :) Much longer post tomorrow on his new two-ness, complete with a few pics from his birthday party.... he's too big (and already answering "Three!" when people ask him how old he is..)

Anyway.

Ever get one of those feelings that something is happening? That's where I'm at right now... my skin is in constant goosebumps and my subconcious keeps focusing in on a baby making his/her way to us soon. It's all I dream of... an endless loop of squishy brown faces with big eyes and pouty mouths.

Tomorrow is our first homestudy update appt with the worker who wrote up our homestudy for James' adoption. Saturday we sent our profile to the agency we're working with... they should receive it tomorrow or Wednesday. I've spoken with the program contact person G. and she was very encouraging of our chances of adopting this way -- which would be so amazing because the fees are ridiculously low and very much in our miniscule budget. The agency is well known for being ethical and counseling expectant parents on their choices -- over 65% of eparents considering adoption choose to parent, which is a well-supported choice there. They also place a strong emphasis on open adoption... which we're thrilled about.

Anyway... I spoke with G. and she mentioned they're working with a few women due soon who may be a good mutual 'fit'. She asked us to really work on getting our homestudy updates done soon. I can't shake the feeling that our maybe-baby is on her/his way to us...

Then today I hit up the Goodwill children's section and landed about ten to twelve A-flippin-doable baby girl outfits... obviously all from the same well-off momma of fabulous taste, and all looking brand new. Each was $2. Whee! I couldn't help myself. Maybe it's a sign??

I'll update more tomorrow.... must go wake the wife and relinquish the laptop so J can do work...

xoxo

schizophrenic much?

It's been SO long since I last wrote, and honestly 99% of the reason is that I've waffled so much on the whole family building thing that I just couldn't stomach writing yet another "we're going to do this... no this... or maybe this" post. So, true to my nature, I've just avoided blogger altogether instead of posting other stuff and leaving just that one topic alone.

But we're feeling more secure in what our next steps are going to be, and I really want to start blogging deeper than the day-to-dayness (or, lately, month-to-monthness) of my life. So, hi!

In the past month:

James has become James 2.0, the talking edition. He's learning buckets of new words every day.. "hug" and "i love you too" (I 'ov you tooooo! he says meaningfully after every "i love you" from us) are two of my current favorites. He's actually in the range of "normal" (ugh) now for speech for an almost two year old according to all the dev. guidelines.

Speaking of ALMOST TWO... wha? How did this happen? In a scant 3 weeks my son will be two. Every morning I read back in my Jan. '05 journal to see what adoption happenings were occuring. It's very moving to be reliving the last few pre-birth weeks with James' birthmom and her other child. I sent out an email this morning with hopes of being in touch with S. soon -- we haven't heard from her since May and miss her presence. We'll see... fingers crossed.

J and I actually *have* made progress on the baby-making front. We half-heartedly tracked her temps for a cycle and attended a preliminary appt with a OBGYN practice, but had all but concluded that we were mostly trying to force ourselves into a process we weren't thrilled about for financial reasons. We've ruled out a pregnancy for this baby... though I reserve the right to decide to morosely muddle through TTC if it's taken years with no success to have a baby join our family through the methods we prefer and that we're going to try. lol

So, what ARE we doing? We're pursuing straight adoption of an infant through one agency's 'special needs' program (we're open to certain risk factors in the birthfamily, to certain conditions or developmental risks, and to substance addiction or exposure) and starting foster care classes with hopes of eventually being able to adopt a foster child in our care (once the case plan changes from reunification to adoption). I've been worried about the emotional toll reunification would take on me/us/our family after bonding with a child for many months or years, but the more I research the more I feel being a foster parent and supporting RU attempts would 'fit' into our beliefs about adoption. I do believe in helping families stay together when possible, and if a child's case plan went from RU to adoption, we could offer some level of openness to the child's birthfamily too (obviously depending on why the child entered care.. but hey, I'm naive and untainted so far.... so I'm thinking best case scenario here until that changes.)

So. Luckily J and I are on the exact same page concerning the profile of a child we feel we can successfully parent. We've been careful not to extend out of our abilities/strengths due to desperation for a baby/any baby.

Our homestudy is on file with the straight adoption agency (which my all accounts is expectant parent / birthparent focused, ethical and queer friendly) and are turning in our foster care application tomorrow. Classes start on February first. We're settling in for what may be a long wait... but at least we're being financially solvent, and proactive in adding another child to our family. So that feels good.

And as for the rest of last month? Here it is in little exhuberant non-edible bites:

Christmas! Oh so many trains! James talking! Paperwork! Existential conversations about privilege and race! Snow (finally)! James' discovery of said snow! Shannon visiting! Lots of meals out with good friends! Puking on New Years Eve! Babies being born! My mom doesn't have uterine cancer!! Lots of bad reality TV! And lots of other stuff. :)

xo

a girl can change her mind... right?

Ok, that sounds sexist/stereotypical, but really, it fits in this situation: I've changed my mind yet again and J and I are starting to chart her temps. We're going to explore what babymakin' would entail and look into J's fertility before ruling it out.

While adoption interests me more in almost all ways, we can't get past costs. And I want another child sometime before James is 67. :| So, we have an appointment with Dr. Good Track Record, our mama friends' IUI and fertility guru for the beginning of January, and I woke up J this morning to take her temp for the first time. lol. (97.24!) Then, later, as it's CD14, J did an OPK and it was positive.

Fun.

It's still overwhelming, and I still worry about all that could go wrong. But I'm a tiny bit excited too.

We'll see, eh?

irritated. aka: the biggest whinefest EVER.

The last few weeks have been a huge ball of clusterfuckedness. In between short periods of feeling happy or at least content, I've been alternately irritated, sad, angry, impatient, lonely, frustrated, manic and depressed.

Why?

Here goes.

1. Babymaking. I'm just not feeling it. Charting, researching donors, even talking about it -- I'm really, really, not drawn to the intricacies of TTC and pregnancy. I think the years of talking to mostly infertile people about TTC has definitely colored how I feel about trying to make a baby. I'm pessimistic at best, and a big 'ol Debbie Downer at worst. Plus honestly, I want to adopt baby number two. I just do. I want to connect with a birthfamily. I want to research lawyers and agencies, not donors and sperm banks. How we'll afford it still ridiculously unclear, but I think J and I are going to wait and save for an adoption, or look for lower-cost adoption alternatives, rather than make a baby. I may go insane during the wait, but oh well. Neither of us are really into TTC the way we need to be to chart effectively, despite the potential financial savings (and who the hell knows there, right?).

2. Famdamily. J and I just got back from visiting her parents and are in our usual two week recovery period. Going home brings up six bazillion feelings of guilt and sadness for J. She'll wall them up for the visit, and then turn into this evilly cranky alter ego for a week to two weeks after we get back. I should know not to needle her during this time*, but end up doing so anyhow. It's never pretty.

3. Shitty internet drama. Unbloggable, but still in the mix, so felt I should at least mention it. Bah.

4. Friends. I've been shitty at returning calls (Hi J/S! Love you!) and missing some really important friends. Also, there seems to be universal law that as soon as I get super crazy close to a girlfriend they must move far out of state posthaste. I've therefore not really been processing any of the above in a meaningful way, beyond therapy (and my wonderful therapist just lost her pregnancy decently far along, so I'm sure my stories of boo hoo not wanting to get pregnant/ why can't I adopt are just *thrilling* to listen to). Therapists only take you so far. I want a real live flesh and blood girlfriend to A: do things with and B: eventually feel close enough to talk to about our lives on a regularish basis. Bonus points for having/understanding food/weight issues and being willing to hear me flesh out family making strategies. Double bonus points for being Shannon. :(

5. Appointments/time sucks: Apparently every possible appointment I've been waiting on for months had to be scheduled during our vacation for RIGHT after we got back. James' speech therapy, Dr's appointments, work crap, blah blah. Plus our vacation was Tues - Tues due to cheap-ass airline tickets, so J had a ton of work related stuff to do when we got back that was barely impossible to fit into Wednesday and Thursday for her court on Friday. Oh, and our car lost heat and then temporarily died (all is well now, though). Last week SUCKED.

6. Food: Yeah. I've been eating HORRIBLY. Cupcake for breakfast? Sure! Eating fast food twice last week? Why not?! Vegetables? I'm sorry -- what? Anyway. I need to reconnect to healthy eating and exercise again. And soon.


........

Honestly, it hasn't been all bad. James has been a particular bright spot. J and I haven't killed eachother and have been making eachother laugh a lot lately, so I know things are ok at a macro level. Look for a much MUCH happier post on James (He talks! He grows!) next.



* Needling examples include: "Ha ha! You're going to have to track your cervical mucus!" and "Can we make a time to talk about the earliest possible date you're willing to have another baby living here?"

do the something i can do......

I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; I will not refuse to do the something I can do.

I'd like to take a minute to shamelessly promote my friend Mindy's organization: the Kirabo Foundation, a 501-c3 (ie: fully tax deductible) non-profit who's mission is to provide a full education to as many Ugandan children as possible.

Kirabo currently sponsors 33 students in primary, secondary, and post-secondary schools throughout Uganda. All Kirabo students have lost at least one parent to HIV/AIDS, many have lost both. Uganda currently has no free public educational system.

I've known Mindy, Kirabo's director, for almost two years. She adopted her son shortly after we adopted James. She, and the other Kirabo staff volunteer their time so all funds raised can go to support the youth of Uganda.

The need is great, but even a relatively small amount of money goes a long way toward helping a child receive an otherwise unavailable education. Kirabo accepts donations at any level, however it's possible to fully sponsor a child in primary school's education for around $225 a year. A student in post-secondary school's education is approximately $1000 a year.

Beyond funding, Kirabo also appreciates volunteers willing to write monthly with a student... functioning as a loving adult/mentor, as many of these young people don't have someone able to cheer them on and encourage them with their studies. I've been matched with a 17 year old young woman who Mindy described as 'clever' and 'spirited'... and I can't wait to get to know her. :)

Perhaps your community group or church would be willing to fundraise? Perhaps you could give donations in someone's name in place of a holiday gift? Perhaps you could use a tax deduction on next year's taxes or could put aside some money should you receive a refund next spring? A relatively small amount of money can make a huge difference to these young people and their surviving families.

If you, or someone you know may be interested in sponsoring or writing to a student, or interested in donating an amount of any kind, you can contact Mindy at the following email address: kirabofoundation@hotmail.com.

the post of the century.

Well, internets, I'm sure by now you've realized I'm a terrible blogger. Ironically, I was much better pre-kid, and now that I actually have something worth writing about -- at least for posterity's sake -- I never actually put fingers to keyboard.

So things you may have missed lately include my entrance into some good (albeit annoying) therapy for food related stuff, my ongoing preoccupation as to why James isn't talking at the level of his peers, recaps of about six thousand renditions of me singing The Wheels on the Bus, James' obsessions with trains ("CtooCtoo!") and Elmo ("Momo!"), my new occupation with a gorgeous 3 month old girl listed on a 'waiting children' list at a respectable agency... coupled with J and I's "discussion" (read: I sob, J says WTF? No.) about submitting paperwork to adopt her later this month, and well, our decision to have J get pregnant for baby number two.

Add in crazy holiday rushing (we leave soonish for Xmas with the inlaws about 1300 miles away) and I'm practically certifiable.

So right -- gettin' pregnant. Where to begin?

I wish there were some amazing moment where things crystallized and J and I realized that we were meant to birth a second child.... but there just isn't. It's a numbers game, honestly, and we just don't see how we can adopt our second child without either a: waiting at least three years to start after saving up the amount a private adoption is likely to be (and that's estimating low -- with no failed adoption along the way or long match or many firstparent expenses) or b: extending significantly outside of our comfort zone as far as serious special needs go to adopt a waiting special needs child with low adoption expenses. I've thought about adopting through the state, but our state doesn't have a foster to adopt program and at this point in our family building journey -- we're not willing to foster a child at risk for reunification attempts with their birthfamily. Maybe later, but not for kiddo number two.

I recognize that reading the above could be painful for those who've struggled or are struggling with infertility. I realize that many would LOVE to just 'start trying', assume they are fertile, or have the potential option of a pregnancy available to them. I realize we're still at risk for having a child with special needs, and I also realize that there is no guarantee that we'll even get pregnant, nevermind stay pregnant and deliver a baby. We may well end up paying more to TTC than if we had saved and adopted later. There are no absolutes... but I'm ready to start moving forward for number two, and can deal with slowly moving toward that goal through TTC much better than putting everything on hold for a few years in order to adopt.

There are some other, non-bloggable queer momma legalities that add into the mix too.

And honestly, I'm pretty sad that we won't be on the adoption path... and while TTC will be exciting in it's own right, adoption is my default and I'll built a lot of ties to the adoption community and "get" the pros/cons/ethics of adoption as a family building method. AI with donor sperm is a whole 'effin new ballgame and I'm a bit overwhelmed.

There are few families that chose to transracially adopt first with untested fertility status who THEN decided to TTC for their second child. My favorite adoption board... my second home even... nearly all the moms/moms-to-be there dealt with IF or secondary IF before turning to adoption. I expected to be able to share another adoption journey there -- and now I find myself looking for another queer friend TTC board that will be as open and welcoming and HOME as much as my adoption board.

Wow, this post is so uplifting eh? I guess I have more feelings about this than I've let myself process.

I really AM excited to start learning. I'm ready to parent a second child. There so much more to say about this... I feel I haven't even scratched the surface of all the variables we need to consider, but I guess that's for another post. J's getting James' Xmas pictures taken and I'm supposed to be dutifully wrapping presents to ship to IL tomorrow. I'll leave you with two pictures. The first, babymakin' paraphenalia, or the first picture intentionally taken to be placed in a folder marked for baby number two in my computer:



And the second, a picture of a polaroid taken almost two years ago, and the first intentional picture placed in James' picture folder on our computer: J and I wishing aloud for a baby on Santa's lap in the Marc Jacobs store in Greenwich Village. S., James' birthmom, wrote us two days after Christmas and James' middle name is in honor of the jolly old man himself. :)



(and no, James' middle name is not "Santa".) :P

"If the family were a container, it would be a nest, an enduring nest, loosely woven, expansive, and open. If the family were a fruit, it would be an orange, a circle of sections, held together but separable?each segment distinct. If the family were a boat, it would be a canoe that makes no progress unless everyone paddles.... If the family were a building, it would be an old but solid structure that contains human history, and appeals to those who see the carved moldings under all the plaster, the wide plank floors under the linoleum, the possibilities."

-Letty Cottin Pogrebin

The lovely girl above is my 77 year old nana. She's gorgeous, isn't she?

I'm in the process of making her a photo book of her life through mypublisher.com, a process that has given me ample time to play with old negatives... scanning them and then watching in amazement as they blaze to life on the screen thanks to editing software. That's how I found these gems... the photos themselves are long gone, but here is my nana.. tiny and dancing on my screen.

Nana has one more round with chemo before they check to see if her cancer is gone. She's had a horrible time with her treatment, and it's hard to see her hurting and well, old. I've been so taken with the creation of this book.. of seeing Nana as a gorgeous girl, or young bride, or new mom.

H. Lorraine, my Nana

Nana and Papa marry, 58 years ago (!!)

Nana with my mama. My favorite picture....

...Please, if you pray, say a prayer that my Nana's tests proclaim her cancer free and that she enjoys many more healthy years with her family.

<3

yes please.

a post of substance coming soon, but until then i'll leave you with my newest favorite Natalie Dee comic...

Took this pic tonight...

Like mother like son. :)

ruminating.

My thoughts are so disorganized right now, that a linear post of substance may be out of reach tonight.

....It's funny, I used to have a livejournal (still do, though I never write there anymore) that I wrote all my deep innermost thoughts (ie: memes! and day-to-day chatter with friends), but LJ has gotten too incestuous for me to feel comfortable writing. Now I have this space, set up to join the ranks of the mommy bloggers and adoption bloggers, and another blog-esque space I set up to chronicle my food/weight related journey. Neither feel like a place to post "I'm feeling 'effing lonely" though, you know?

But, well, I am. Feeling lonely, that is. So I guess I'll try to get it out here.

It's late, and I'm enjoying my usual baby-and-wife-are-all-tucked-in-and-snoring post bedtime bliss. No one wants me to fold laundry. Or to 'help' me fold laundry. No one is snotting all over yet another of my clean shirts. My body is my own again, to remain unclimbed on, and unbitten/pinched/prodded/pulled for at least another 8 hours. It's heaven.

But tonight I'm out of sorts... restless I guess. Craving connection. Uh, lonely.

Last week I went and finally found myself a good therapist. I've been meaning to for a while now, mostly to help me navigate my unhealthy relationship to food. After locking myself in my office most of Friday morning, I finally reached someone who took my ins., had both a personal and professional understanding of food issues, and wasn't a hippy-esque middle class white woman who in her late 40's renamed herself some equivalent of "LiLo", began appropriating Native cultures and became a therapist. My standards are set pretty high people.

I met with her Monday morning and I am in deep like. :) However, I'm left with an unsettled feeling, which is probably common when you unearth all of your back-burnered issues and expose them to public inspection and discussion. Bah. The session went great though, and I kept my shit together until I started talking about the struggle in raising a child to have a good relationship with food when you just don't. That's when I lost it. Box of tissues: 1. Erin: 0.

The mommy bloggosphere has been abuzz lately with discussions of the physicality of a mother's love. I've learned a lot from these posts and wish I was half as able to eloquently discuss the breadth and depth of my love for James. And it is a physical, sensual love. There are nights when I'm holding him as he's sleeping where I can't stop tucking a curl behind his ear or become unable to resist pressing my cheek to his. His laugh delights me in a way I can't find words for. And when I stop to consider the immensely scary responsibility I have to help him navigate his way to becoming a healthy and happy adult, well. Shit. There are just so many ways to fail. And the idea of my baby ever being in pain, especially in pain because of me somehow, is unthinkable. Tortuous.

Which brings me to this: At 19 months, James still isn't talking. Well, he's vocalizing (constantly) but not in many recognizable words/nouns. Like every mother with a child who's delayed in some developmental area, every other child you know or hear about who's the same age or younger is always lightyears ahead of where your child is. Other 19 month olds are carrying on full conversations with their parents while James is mooing, and only on command.

He's been evaluated, and the nice speech therapist assured us that This. Is. Not. Our. Fault. and that James cognitive development is Just. Fine. and that he's just delayed in the area of expressive speech, but damn. Damn. I keep thinking: Is our home not a "Language Rich Environment"? Did we rely too heavily on baby sign (He won't speak the words he knows signs for... and he knows a bunch of signs.) ? Could we have done something different?

And while my rational self knows that this is just who James is, and that he'll be talking at the level of his peers eventually (we're on the waiting list for speech therapy too), I still feel like an official bad mother. And I'd give anything to hear what I'm sure he's wanting to tell me. To finally know what some of the signs he's created on his own are supposed to mean. I want to talk with my boy. :(

It'd sure cure the 'lonlies' I have tonight.

two pics...

James' newest love: obsessive teeth brushing.

Getting ready for a bike ride. Grossly cute. Gross.

Also,

Q: Is it sad when you start to post about your issues with being avoidant but then stop because when you look at it all out there in black and white it starts to feel/look scary so you erase it, thereby exhibiting your avoidance issues all over again?

A: yes.

(also, also: can you tell who has to create Jeopardy! questions for her workplace's annual fall retreat today?)

oh myspace.

seriously, if you are looking to find a long-lost someone under the age of 30, save your energy and just go to myspace. i did.

long ago in my living-wit-my-parents-going-to-highschool days I used to babysit a little girl, J and eventually her two younger sisters (twins) K and A. J will be 20 (?!?!) this September and I haven't talked with her or her family since in years -- at least eight. When I think of J, I picture the pretty, athletic, easygoing GIRL she was... listening to the spice girls, swimming in her pool... playing basketball.

These girls lived kitty-corner from my parents house and were my first venture into babysitting. I started watching J when she was just under 3. I was 12. I was over there ALL the time... four nights a week sometimes. All day in the summers and on vacations. They were an intergral part of my life. The last time I really spent any time with J she was twelve. Her sisters were 8.

And it was completely my fault that I lost touch with them. ...J's parents are good people. Very Catholic good people. And when I finally figured out that I was queer (at 21) I was terrified of coming out to them. I harbored a significant amount of internalized homophobia and thought that if I told them they wouldn't let me know the girls. So, stupidly, I chose to distance myself from the family before they could cut me off. I regret this immensely. I miss my girls, especially my J, who functioned as a little sister to me.

So anyway, yesterday I found J's myspace account. She's brilliant -- going into her second year of college, skydiving, dating a cute boy she's serious about... basically finding out who she in in that late teens/early twenties way. She's not that little girl anymore... but from what I read I admire who she is and who she's becoming. I wrote her and she was thrilled to hear from me. :)

And today when I looked at her 'bulletins' section she took time to re-post a widely-cirulated email top 10 on hypocrisy in arguments against gay marriage. I almost cried.

my imaginary friends in the internet....

Well! There is such great news happening in my corner of the internet! Yay!

Oh... and I thought of this poem when NOvary found out her daughter Maya's Chinese name means 'morning star', but I think it's appropriate for those still waiting for their kiddos too....

Morning Poem, Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

........


On a completely separate topic... and while I'm playing with links...

For those with consumerist tendencies who love to buy handmade.... check out etsy.com. The deliciousness will consume you.

fixed the glitch...

right? everyone seeing the sidebar where it should be?

i hope so.