Today I took a girl day out. Mr. P was home with little A and I went to go see a matinee, went shopping, and then met a friends for a late lunch (at which point it became girls day out). I'm pretty sure this is a first since little A came home - a day all to myself in which I do things only for myself. I surprised myself by being sad at leaving in the morning (surprised because I'd been looking forward to the day for a while). I kept calling home, and when I suggested meeting up later in the day Mr. P actually told me that he really just wanted me to enjoy the day to myself. All in all it was pretty fabulous.
I'm really a biography of Julia Child currently and I went to see the Julie/Julia movie. It was great because the movie picks up exactly where I am reading in the book - so I had some extra background while watching the movie. What I didn't know, and hadn't anticipated, was the ever-so-small part of the plot that Julia wants a child. In one of the first scenes of the movie she and her new husband pass a mom and baby carriage in the street and they exchange a knowing look and a hug.
And then there was the scene that I could have starred in in my real life. Julia gets a letter from her sister telling her that she's pregnant and Julia bursts into tears. Her husband is hugging her and through her tears she looks at him and says "I'm so happy!". Ugh. I've been there. Not with my sister, but with a close friend of mine - the first close friend of mine to become pregnant. Except in my case I had to hold back the tears for several hours while we spent an afternoon with her and her husband after they'd told us. As soon as we'd left their presence I burst into tears (in public no less), while Mr. P held me. And, yes, of course I was happy for them, too. But it broke my heart at the same time. Because it seemed so easy for "everyone else".... Because I couldn't experience only joy for my friends.... Because we no longer had that innocence...
A few days ago a friend/colleague of mine told me she was pregnant. Her first pregnancy was an "oops" pregnancy. She told me about that one literally days after I had just be giving her the low-down on our years of trying and how I had just started charting my cycles. While I was telling her about that, she was saying that she really wasn't ready yet for kids. And then a few days later.... She had a little boy and now she wants a girl. She wanted to do whatever it is that people do in order to aim for a specific gender, and she asked me about charting cycles. She started charting two months ago and on month two, she was preggers! I am really happy for her. No tears this time. And I had to admire her nonchalance about the whole thing. She wanted it, it happened, and hey, she may even get that girl she wants. Isn't that how we all think it will go down? From where I stand now, I'm happy it's all gone down for me the way it has, but it certainly took me a while to get here. As my dad always reminds me: no matter where you go, there you are.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
little A's name
edited to add: This has now become the 6th topic for the Open Adoption Roundtable. Be sure to check the other responses!
Reading this over at Heather's, it got me thinking about little A's name and how it came to be. I realized I wanted to write a post, instead of just a comment.
When we were going through the homestudy process our agency had us think about this. Rather than try to push us in any way (keep the name, change the name, etc....) they basically told us what choices other people have made, and asked us to think about what we would want. Mr. P and I had talked about a certain girl's name before we were even married. We had always wanted to name a daughter after his grandmother, and use my grandmother's name as a nickname. One isn't exactly a nickname for the other, but they are close enough that it works. The middle name we'd always thought of didn't have any history or significance for us - it was just a name we liked. We didn't have any sentimental/family boys names chosen, though we had names we liked.
So even though we had this name that we'd always wanted for a daughter, I felt very strongly that we needed to be open to keeping and/or incorporating our adopted child's given name. Mr. P felt strongly that - at least in the case of a daughter - she needed to have his grandmother's name.
When little A was born, K didn't want to see her, know whether she was a boy or girl, or name her. When she entered the hospital to give birth, she informed the nurses and doctors right away of her wish to make an adoption plan. As soon as K knew she was pregnant, she knew that she wouldn't be able to parent this child. While she didn't have access to prenatal care, I believe that she cared for little A as best she could under extremely unfavorable conditions. Given the circumstances, I get why she wouldn't want to see the baby, name her, etc...
Once K met with a social worker from the agency at the hospital, that social worker encouraged K to name the baby (and to see the baby, which she did, though not at the hospital - it was a few days later at the agency) and suggested that K think of someone in K's life that she'd like to name her after. So K gave little A her mother's name (little A's birth grandmother's name), who had passed away several years ago.
So we knew little A's name when we first met with K, and thus ensued our discussions around the name. What I wanted was to have a conversation with K about it - tell her about the name we wanted and the reasons, ask her how she felt about it, and go from there. Our social worker, knowing how important our family name was to us, suggested that maybe there was one of the names that K had chosen that was more special (the name her mother had gone by, for instance), and we could keep that. But Mr. P really didn't like one of the names. I have to say, I was a little thrown aback by this. I didn't expect him to have an aversion to any particular name. To be adamant about his grandmother's name, yes, but not to reject another name. I really liked both of the names, so I can't put myself in Mr. P's shoes.
When we met with K, we did discuss little A's name. K immediately said that we should name her anything we wanted. She said we were to be A's parents and so we should name her. I think back now and part of me wonders whether or not there should be more counseling around naming - for both adoptive parents and first parents. I mean, on the one hand (in our situation, anyways), things can happen fairly quickly, so how much counseling can really go into the name. On the other hand, I want any parent entering into an adoption plan to feel empowered to have these conversations openly and honestly. Looking back on our brief contact with K, I felt (and feel) that she was very, very secure in her decision, went into this feeling that we were little A's parents and should name her, and felt confident in our ability to parent her to the best of our ability (she said as much when we met). So K's decision to tell us that we could name little A as we pleased was very much in line with her attitude in general. It's not that I feel she may have felt pressure give us that option, but I just wonder if she had had more time to think about it, talk to someone about it, would she have preferred something else??
In the end we asked K how she felt about giving little A Mr. P's grandmother's name as her first name and keeping the middle name she'd given little A as her middle name. Oh, and did I mention that the English version of little A's middle name is the full version of what my grandmother's name was? In other words, the name that we call little A is a nickname for her middle name - her birth grandmother's name (if you turned the middle name into it's English version). Kind of amazing, right?
So little A has all of her grandmothers' names - my grandmother (the nickname we usually call her by), Mr. P's grandmother (first name), and K's mother (middle name).
As a somewhat side note....... People often ask about her name, and I always give them the rundown - the name we call her was my grandmother's name, her given first name was Mr. P's grandmother, and her middle name was her birth grandmother's. That final tidbit is always met with a blank stare. I think people a) don't expect me to talk about the first family at all; b) probably don't expect that I know anything about the first family; and c) I guess just don't know how to respond in general. I think a "Oh, how nice" would suffice.
Reading this over at Heather's, it got me thinking about little A's name and how it came to be. I realized I wanted to write a post, instead of just a comment.
When we were going through the homestudy process our agency had us think about this. Rather than try to push us in any way (keep the name, change the name, etc....) they basically told us what choices other people have made, and asked us to think about what we would want. Mr. P and I had talked about a certain girl's name before we were even married. We had always wanted to name a daughter after his grandmother, and use my grandmother's name as a nickname. One isn't exactly a nickname for the other, but they are close enough that it works. The middle name we'd always thought of didn't have any history or significance for us - it was just a name we liked. We didn't have any sentimental/family boys names chosen, though we had names we liked.
So even though we had this name that we'd always wanted for a daughter, I felt very strongly that we needed to be open to keeping and/or incorporating our adopted child's given name. Mr. P felt strongly that - at least in the case of a daughter - she needed to have his grandmother's name.
When little A was born, K didn't want to see her, know whether she was a boy or girl, or name her. When she entered the hospital to give birth, she informed the nurses and doctors right away of her wish to make an adoption plan. As soon as K knew she was pregnant, she knew that she wouldn't be able to parent this child. While she didn't have access to prenatal care, I believe that she cared for little A as best she could under extremely unfavorable conditions. Given the circumstances, I get why she wouldn't want to see the baby, name her, etc...
Once K met with a social worker from the agency at the hospital, that social worker encouraged K to name the baby (and to see the baby, which she did, though not at the hospital - it was a few days later at the agency) and suggested that K think of someone in K's life that she'd like to name her after. So K gave little A her mother's name (little A's birth grandmother's name), who had passed away several years ago.
So we knew little A's name when we first met with K, and thus ensued our discussions around the name. What I wanted was to have a conversation with K about it - tell her about the name we wanted and the reasons, ask her how she felt about it, and go from there. Our social worker, knowing how important our family name was to us, suggested that maybe there was one of the names that K had chosen that was more special (the name her mother had gone by, for instance), and we could keep that. But Mr. P really didn't like one of the names. I have to say, I was a little thrown aback by this. I didn't expect him to have an aversion to any particular name. To be adamant about his grandmother's name, yes, but not to reject another name. I really liked both of the names, so I can't put myself in Mr. P's shoes.
When we met with K, we did discuss little A's name. K immediately said that we should name her anything we wanted. She said we were to be A's parents and so we should name her. I think back now and part of me wonders whether or not there should be more counseling around naming - for both adoptive parents and first parents. I mean, on the one hand (in our situation, anyways), things can happen fairly quickly, so how much counseling can really go into the name. On the other hand, I want any parent entering into an adoption plan to feel empowered to have these conversations openly and honestly. Looking back on our brief contact with K, I felt (and feel) that she was very, very secure in her decision, went into this feeling that we were little A's parents and should name her, and felt confident in our ability to parent her to the best of our ability (she said as much when we met). So K's decision to tell us that we could name little A as we pleased was very much in line with her attitude in general. It's not that I feel she may have felt pressure give us that option, but I just wonder if she had had more time to think about it, talk to someone about it, would she have preferred something else??
In the end we asked K how she felt about giving little A Mr. P's grandmother's name as her first name and keeping the middle name she'd given little A as her middle name. Oh, and did I mention that the English version of little A's middle name is the full version of what my grandmother's name was? In other words, the name that we call little A is a nickname for her middle name - her birth grandmother's name (if you turned the middle name into it's English version). Kind of amazing, right?
So little A has all of her grandmothers' names - my grandmother (the nickname we usually call her by), Mr. P's grandmother (first name), and K's mother (middle name).
As a somewhat side note....... People often ask about her name, and I always give them the rundown - the name we call her was my grandmother's name, her given first name was Mr. P's grandmother, and her middle name was her birth grandmother's. That final tidbit is always met with a blank stare. I think people a) don't expect me to talk about the first family at all; b) probably don't expect that I know anything about the first family; and c) I guess just don't know how to respond in general. I think a "Oh, how nice" would suffice.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
OA Roundtable #5: How has open adoption changed me?
I've been enjoying reading everyone's responses to the most recent OA roundtable, which you can see here. The question this time around is how open adoption has changed me/how I am different because of the presence of open adoption in my life.
I've been mulling this one over for several days. It's hard to answer because I don't feel there are a set of concrete ways this has changed me. For me, open adoption has enhanced me, enriched me, tested me, made me both stronger and more vulnerable.
One thing that I've been mulling over is that open adoption has really put to test things that I consider myself to be. You know how a lot of people say, "oh, I'd love to adopt someday...". Yeah, I always have said that, even when I was just a teenager. But until it becomes real, you really have no idea what that means. So while I believed myself to be "someone who would adopt" (whatever that means), actually adopting has put me to the test. How vulnerable can I make myself? What am I truly open to - in terms of contact, in terms of how other people may respond to my family, in terms of the circumstances under which this baby came into the world. I have proven to myself that I am the person I have claimed to be and thought I was, but I've realized in the process that it ain't that easy, either.
In open adoption I've felt vulnerable. I felt vulnerable putting together our profile, and it took some adjusting for me to be comfortable with putting ourselves out there to be judged - or at least it felt like judgement to me. We live in a relatively poor neighborhood (infamous for being crime-ridden, even though it's not), in an apartment without any outdoor space. How could we be chosen over families with multiple bedroom houses, yards, swingsets in the back, and two cars? From where I stand now, none of this matters. But where I was then, it made me feel vulnerable.
From where I am now I feel vulnerable in terms of the contact we have. I feel the ball isn't in our court - that there isn't much else we can do to facilitate a relationship. And it really bums me out. It's especially hard for me because the expectation was there. Against what we'd prepared ourselves for, the expectation was there from K and from us that we'd have a very open relationship. And so far we haven't been able to build that relationship, and it hurts me. It's not that I take it personally, but I just really wish it was different.
At the same time I feel so much stronger and more confident - as a person and as a mother - as an adoptive mom in open adoption. I've grown as a person and Mr. P and I have grown as a couple so much since we started this process. I think that K would be proud of how we are parenting little A. I am.
I've been mulling this one over for several days. It's hard to answer because I don't feel there are a set of concrete ways this has changed me. For me, open adoption has enhanced me, enriched me, tested me, made me both stronger and more vulnerable.
One thing that I've been mulling over is that open adoption has really put to test things that I consider myself to be. You know how a lot of people say, "oh, I'd love to adopt someday...". Yeah, I always have said that, even when I was just a teenager. But until it becomes real, you really have no idea what that means. So while I believed myself to be "someone who would adopt" (whatever that means), actually adopting has put me to the test. How vulnerable can I make myself? What am I truly open to - in terms of contact, in terms of how other people may respond to my family, in terms of the circumstances under which this baby came into the world. I have proven to myself that I am the person I have claimed to be and thought I was, but I've realized in the process that it ain't that easy, either.
In open adoption I've felt vulnerable. I felt vulnerable putting together our profile, and it took some adjusting for me to be comfortable with putting ourselves out there to be judged - or at least it felt like judgement to me. We live in a relatively poor neighborhood (infamous for being crime-ridden, even though it's not), in an apartment without any outdoor space. How could we be chosen over families with multiple bedroom houses, yards, swingsets in the back, and two cars? From where I stand now, none of this matters. But where I was then, it made me feel vulnerable.
From where I am now I feel vulnerable in terms of the contact we have. I feel the ball isn't in our court - that there isn't much else we can do to facilitate a relationship. And it really bums me out. It's especially hard for me because the expectation was there. Against what we'd prepared ourselves for, the expectation was there from K and from us that we'd have a very open relationship. And so far we haven't been able to build that relationship, and it hurts me. It's not that I take it personally, but I just really wish it was different.
At the same time I feel so much stronger and more confident - as a person and as a mother - as an adoptive mom in open adoption. I've grown as a person and Mr. P and I have grown as a couple so much since we started this process. I think that K would be proud of how we are parenting little A. I am.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
show and tell: placement through the ages
To check out who else is showing and telling, you can go here.
The hubbs, baby and I recently went to Barcelona, Spain (where hubbs and I first met). While we were there we spent the afternoon catching up with an old friend of mine who I worked with while I spent a semester in Spain many years ago in graduate school. We were sitting in a plaza that we had already visited several times during our visit when she pointed out what used to be an orphanage. The sign for the orphanage was still painted above the door, but the building now houses some kind of social service organization. And she pointed this out:
The hubbs, baby and I recently went to Barcelona, Spain (where hubbs and I first met). While we were there we spent the afternoon catching up with an old friend of mine who I worked with while I spent a semester in Spain many years ago in graduate school. We were sitting in a plaza that we had already visited several times during our visit when she pointed out what used to be an orphanage. The sign for the orphanage was still painted above the door, but the building now houses some kind of social service organization. And she pointed this out:
This is the exterior wall of the building, which faces the plaza. It may be hard to visualize it from this picture, but that piece of wood on the wall is actually a cylinder and at one point in time would spin around. The inside of the cylinder is hollowed out and a woman could place her baby inside the cylinder and then spin it around so that the baby could be retrieved from inside the orphanage. The small slot to the left of the cylinder was for people to put "limoznas" - gifts of money for the orphanage.
As I stood in front of the wall and this cylinder I imagined the women who had come to this wall, and those who had placed their babies inside. Though I'm sure most if not all of them are long gone by now, my heart goes out to them.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
reflections on a year
365 days ago I was sitting in the exact spot where I am now writing this and got the call from our agency telling us about little A. I've been thinking a lot lately about the transformations that have taken place in this year.
What little A has accomplished in this year is astonishing. It's astonishing the amount of development that happens over the course of one's first year of life. I feel so privileged to have been a witness to every last development of A's year.
Becoming parents has meant so much more to me than I could have ever imagined. I couldn't have imagined the change it has produced in my own parents - who became grandparents for the first time with little A's arrival. It's changed my relationship to them, I believe it's changed their relationship with each other, and it has most definitely affected them each as individuals in a very profound way. Before becoming a mother, I hadn't much thought about how that would affect my relationship to my parents.
I have transformed in ways I couldn't have imagined as well. Going through years of trying to get pregnant and coming to grips with infertility gave me an awareness of what others go through to become a family. Then going through the adoption process opened my eyes to other ways of becoming and being a family. Now as a mom I see motherhood in a new light as well. I guess it's obvious, but I am still struck by how this has changed me. All of these experiences have given me a new understanding of others and has helped me become less judgemental.
As a child and young adult, I took for granted that I would be a mother. Then for years I braced myself against the possibility of never becoming a mother. Still today, a year after becoming little A's mom, I have a hard time fully believing that this is the case - I am a mom. When little A crawls over to me to hug me and stroke my hair, there is still a part of me in disbelief that this little girls loves me. That's she's here to stay. That we are a family.
When we first brought little A home I can remember having conversations with folks about the future - whether it be when little A starts to walk or when she goes off to school. I had a hard time with those conversations because even then I struggled with believing that this had actually happened. I mean, yes, rationally I knew and know that this is not a temporary situation. But on a gut level I was (and still am) struggling with this new reality of being a mom. How can it be that I am finally a mother? - something that I had at some level I had resigned myself to never achieving. It was my coping mechanism in the years of infertility and then the adoption process.
I am one of those people that is grateful for the infertility we experienced because it's brought me to the wonderful place I am today. At the time, of course, we wanted to get pregnant but in no way do I now wish that had happened. Not only has the experience brought me here, but it's also made me a better I person I think. I truly believe that the struggles in life are what pave the path to bigger and better things. But this lack of security in my motherhood and my hesitation at embracing it wholly without that little voice inside telling me that it's too good to be true - I do wish that it would go away. I hate that our struggles to become parents have left me with this feeling. Don't get me wrong - it doesn't stop me from fully being a mom, from loving little A beyond words. But it's that damn little voice.
So becoming a mom is a lifelong process, just as anything else. I can't really express how happy this process makes me, how proud I am to be little A's mom.
What little A has accomplished in this year is astonishing. It's astonishing the amount of development that happens over the course of one's first year of life. I feel so privileged to have been a witness to every last development of A's year.
Becoming parents has meant so much more to me than I could have ever imagined. I couldn't have imagined the change it has produced in my own parents - who became grandparents for the first time with little A's arrival. It's changed my relationship to them, I believe it's changed their relationship with each other, and it has most definitely affected them each as individuals in a very profound way. Before becoming a mother, I hadn't much thought about how that would affect my relationship to my parents.
I have transformed in ways I couldn't have imagined as well. Going through years of trying to get pregnant and coming to grips with infertility gave me an awareness of what others go through to become a family. Then going through the adoption process opened my eyes to other ways of becoming and being a family. Now as a mom I see motherhood in a new light as well. I guess it's obvious, but I am still struck by how this has changed me. All of these experiences have given me a new understanding of others and has helped me become less judgemental.
As a child and young adult, I took for granted that I would be a mother. Then for years I braced myself against the possibility of never becoming a mother. Still today, a year after becoming little A's mom, I have a hard time fully believing that this is the case - I am a mom. When little A crawls over to me to hug me and stroke my hair, there is still a part of me in disbelief that this little girls loves me. That's she's here to stay. That we are a family.
When we first brought little A home I can remember having conversations with folks about the future - whether it be when little A starts to walk or when she goes off to school. I had a hard time with those conversations because even then I struggled with believing that this had actually happened. I mean, yes, rationally I knew and know that this is not a temporary situation. But on a gut level I was (and still am) struggling with this new reality of being a mom. How can it be that I am finally a mother? - something that I had at some level I had resigned myself to never achieving. It was my coping mechanism in the years of infertility and then the adoption process.
I am one of those people that is grateful for the infertility we experienced because it's brought me to the wonderful place I am today. At the time, of course, we wanted to get pregnant but in no way do I now wish that had happened. Not only has the experience brought me here, but it's also made me a better I person I think. I truly believe that the struggles in life are what pave the path to bigger and better things. But this lack of security in my motherhood and my hesitation at embracing it wholly without that little voice inside telling me that it's too good to be true - I do wish that it would go away. I hate that our struggles to become parents have left me with this feeling. Don't get me wrong - it doesn't stop me from fully being a mom, from loving little A beyond words. But it's that damn little voice.
So becoming a mom is a lifelong process, just as anything else. I can't really express how happy this process makes me, how proud I am to be little A's mom.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
one year
Little A's birthday is fast approaching. I know that every mother/father says this, but I really can't believe it's been a year already. She is becoming more and more of a toddler each day.
In the past few days I've been really thinking about where I was last year at this time and what I was doing. On the afternoon that little A was born, Mr. P and I went to a then-new restaurant nearby for an afternoon snack before heading to the grocery store. At the moment that little A was born we were probably walking home from our shopping trip. When she was two days old, I went to my last photography class and then went with a friend to that same restaurant for pizza and a glass of wine. Little A was one week old when we first knew of her existence.
I'm thinking about K as well, and how she was feeling exactly a year ago. I am wondering how she felt as she went to the hospital. I am wondering, as ever, how she is doing now, what she is feeling and thinking.
We have a party planned for little A's first birthday. Of course she won't know it as different than any other day, but my family is really rallying around this happy anniversary, and I'm happy that we'll be able to share the day with them. I've ordered her some gifts from this place and I'm happy with those.
Also coming up, of course, is the anniversary of little A's placement with us (we still don't have an "adoption day" since we haven't finalized the adoption yet). I am stumped with how to celebrate the placement day. I want to start a tradition - something that we'll do a version of each year. But I can't really think of what that should be. I've thought about maybe something that celebrates each of our cultures - Ecuadorian, Chilean, American - maybe a meal? I have also thought about a trip to a local zoo that we visited on the day that we decided to start the adoption process.
If people are still reading, how do you celebrate the day that your child was placed with you?
In the past few days I've been really thinking about where I was last year at this time and what I was doing. On the afternoon that little A was born, Mr. P and I went to a then-new restaurant nearby for an afternoon snack before heading to the grocery store. At the moment that little A was born we were probably walking home from our shopping trip. When she was two days old, I went to my last photography class and then went with a friend to that same restaurant for pizza and a glass of wine. Little A was one week old when we first knew of her existence.
I'm thinking about K as well, and how she was feeling exactly a year ago. I am wondering how she felt as she went to the hospital. I am wondering, as ever, how she is doing now, what she is feeling and thinking.
We have a party planned for little A's first birthday. Of course she won't know it as different than any other day, but my family is really rallying around this happy anniversary, and I'm happy that we'll be able to share the day with them. I've ordered her some gifts from this place and I'm happy with those.
Also coming up, of course, is the anniversary of little A's placement with us (we still don't have an "adoption day" since we haven't finalized the adoption yet). I am stumped with how to celebrate the placement day. I want to start a tradition - something that we'll do a version of each year. But I can't really think of what that should be. I've thought about maybe something that celebrates each of our cultures - Ecuadorian, Chilean, American - maybe a meal? I have also thought about a trip to a local zoo that we visited on the day that we decided to start the adoption process.
If people are still reading, how do you celebrate the day that your child was placed with you?
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