Reconciling Things

First, lemme say that I. AM. SO. F'IN. EXHAUSTED. I am back into the pattern of only sleeping 4 hours a night. I can fall asleep, but once I wake up I can't fall back asleep, no matter what I try. ("Ambi.en, come back, I miss you, Lover!")

Second, I was able to spend a few hours last night out with a very close friend who is also adopting a "Child of Promise" from China, having recently switched to our agency (Holt) and their program. So instead of a 5+ more years of waiting, they will be bringing home a playmate for Lil Pumpkin sometime between December - February (those of you "hip" to China adoption, they have been matched, just waiting on their L.O.A. to arrive, then do Travel Approval, Consultate Appts, and book those flights!)

We went to Sippy Cups R Us, I mean Bab.ies R Us, last night to add some things to her registry. We did this once before, but now that things are really set for their adoption (their daughter will be just about same age LP was when she came home), I am in the rare position of being probably the only person able to help her register for what a toddler needs right off the bat (they will be a first-time parents, as we were). She knew I also wanted to take another run to BRU so I could, um, work on my desensitizing to infant stuff. Those of you who have been traumatized by BRU in the past - as you struggled or are struggling with the quest to become a parent - know that BRU is like the ground zero place for your anger, grief, fear, and frustration to boil over. If you go to T.arget to buy a gift off someone's registry, you can at least console yourself with a cute purse or some licorice from Aisle 9, but in BRU, nope, it's all big signs and items that seem to scream to you personally messages of "YOU CAN'T HAVE THIS" or "YOUR BODY FAILED YOU" or "YOUR ADOPTION AIN'T HAPPENIN' FOR MANY MORE YEARS, HA HA HA!", am I right?!

So I went there last night, still quite perplexed that my pregnancy with Urban Myth is chugging along, and seemingly with no real problems at this point (minus the bleeding back in weeks 5-7), and tried to see if I was jinxing things by even gazing in the direction of the infant car seats and the like. I actually managed to run my hand over a couple of them and say "oh, I like this pattern," and then I'd quickly admonish myself mentally for uttering such things -- after all, thoughts like that during past pregnancies were usually met with a m/c within a week or so.

But this time it's different 'cause I have Lil Pumpkin. I know that, God Forbid, should something awful happen, I will go on because I have a little girl at home who can not go through the loss of a third mother (the prior two being her birth and foster mothers). And this time it's different because I am battling the upsetting comments and invasive inquiries from strangers and acquaintances. Being with my friend last night was refreshing because she "gets" all of this, even though she hasn't gone through any pregnancies, and is still on her side of the China adoption fence, instead of mine. But she makes me feel so solid, and like such a good mom to LP, and it puts me in my comfort zone -- so I knew that I could look at a few baby items, maybe even stroke them, and not begin to have panicky feelings (well, probably not, at least).

I was able to talk openly with her (at P.anera afterwards, slurping their creamy tomato soup) about how I feel terrible for not being all enthusiastic about my pregnancy, and I feel like I might be sending feelings of being unwanted or unloved to Urban Myth (okay, now THAT makes me tear up!), and how I am trying my best to go through the motions so that the feelings will come about (ya know how if you're depressed and you try and act happy, eventually it kicks in, or is supposed to? Ya, that's sorta what I am trying to do, well, sort of). I know that one of you fellow bloggers graciously offered the example of a friend is a mom of four (two via birth, and two via adoption), and your friend wasn't able to "bond" until those kids were in her arms, too. THAT helped me, by the way, so thanks for sharing it, truly!

I talked with my friend about how for the longest time I thought about LP's Foster Mother (who cared for her from the age of 3 months to 15 months), but since I have become pregnant now I think about her birth mother all the time. My friend spoke about how she is letting go of the pangs she has for never once being able to achieve a pregnancy (no m/c's, never even pregnant at all). She knows that I never had the strong desire to be pregnant when Dr. J and I started on "parentquest," but rather (foolishly) at that time thought pregnancy was the quickest and cheapest way from one point to another. LMAO, along with the rest of you, eh?! I told my friend, and I think this was a recent and very important realization for me (thanks, therapy appt on Tuesday!) -- what I do grieve for is having missed out on LP's first 15 months of life.

Sure, we have the rest of her life to share, but I can never get back the moment she was born, her first smile, or the overwhelming grief that likely haunts her birth family regarding the final time they held her at 7-8 weeks of age (phuck, I am SOBBING right now in my office).

I told my friend my theory about how children and becoming a parent is all so random. And how I would have found meaning IF our Urban Myth had some sort of health issue (like a heart condition) that needed to be addressed - it would have made SENSE to me then. But seeing as how we were/are game for another adoption, I couldn't understand how a pregnancy was sent by God to me (if you believe in Fate or "reasons"). Why not my friend's friend, who had 4 m/c's, an adoption agency that went bankrupt, and a match that fell through AT the hospital when the birth mom decided to parent?! WHY US?!

After I got home last night, and after I whipped out the home doppler for a quick check on Urban Myth's h/b to make sure I hadn't done ill to the baby by looking at stuff for her or discussing my mixed-up feelings, I talked with Dr. J about how he and I both are struggling in this regard. Then I broached a crazy idea with him . . . he & I have joked about how we wish the u/s tech would have told us at some point that we were having a toddler, or a Chinese toddler (even better!) since that's in our comfort zone, and we know what to do with that, and those feelings. So . . . I said "um, can we just pretend, just between you and me, that we are pregnant with a Chinese baby?! I know it's crazy, and it's not true, but if we already love Chinese kids, maybe those warm feelings can help us make room in our hearts for this baby, too?!"

Dr. J didn't seem to think it was all that crazy, shrugged, and said "yeah, sure, why not?!" So, we are telling just ourselves that we are excited to have another Chinese daughter on the way. And now, having typed this all out, and sobbed a few times, I am left wondering . . . maybe this baby is meant to help me heal, to make Dr. J and I "dig in" just a bit more after a very rough year, to bring me closer to Lil Pumpkin and work through my own unresolved feelings about the things we had to miss in her first 15 months, and bring us closer to the teachings of our church. I don't know, I really don't . . . but I am going to try to fake it, while I bake it.

Halloween photos

As with last year, we were lucky to be able to ToT (Trick or Treat) on TWO nights - Thursday in Nan & Pap's neighborhood, and Saturday's at my Aunt and Uncle's (accompanied by my brother, Lil Pumpkin's godfather).

And now to the photos . . .

Our Cowboy (she didn't want to be called a cowgirl). She decorated the pink hat with these adhesive jewels I found at a craft store (that's about the extent of my craftyness).

In front of Nan & Pap's big lighted pumpkin, with her princess cowboy boots (had lights that twinkled when she walked).

LP with her Godfather, my 23 yr old brother.

"I'll see you one KitKat and raise you two Snickers."

What a riot . . . my kid prefers to end the evening with a bowl of watermelon :o)

20 weeks, 2 days

With many superstitious, second thoughts, I give you my photos from last night. I am also happy to report that over the weekend I bought two pair of bona fide maternity dress-pants, and am now a much happier camper during the workday. My weight gain is now 15 pounds, which seems to be pretty good according to all who have weighed in (medical types).

This is one of three O.ld N.avy sweaters I am living in at present, along with the T.arget maternity jeans bought at 12 weeks along.

Now these jeans make me feel like I am suffocating, so I am going to have to replace them, too. I think if I am wearing them pull up nobody seems to notice I am pregnant, visually.

But if I pull 'em down a bit, Urban Myth starts to pop out more. Damn, I hate how miniature my boobs look here!!! They looked decent pre-preggo, and now look FAB at this point, but for some reason look like mini-grapes here, hmmm.

COMING TOMORROW . . . Cowboy Lil Pumpkin photos from Halloween!

20 weeks

Today I am considered 20 weeks. I don't consider that "halfway" - I consider 22 weeks to be halfway . . . reason being that if pregnancy is 40 weeks, the first two weeks don't count (period then ovulation), and the next two weeks you don't know anyway, hence the first 4 weeks are a wash. So, if you take 40 wks minus 4 you get 36 wks. Divide that by two, and you get 18. Thus, the midway point between 4 weeks and 4 weeks is 40 weeks. Get it?

20 weeks scares me a bit. As I understand it, if you have "something bad" happen after the 20 weeks point, you have to, um, birth it. I know that some of you have had this happen, and I could vomit at the mere thought of going into labor way before a baby is viable, or having to give birth knowing the baby inside you has already passed. Not that having a D&C prior to 20 weeks is somehow a sunnier scenario, but it's just something that has been upsetting me.

I got very freaked out last night by something I saw at my parents house last night as Lil Pumpkin took part in Round One of Trick-or-Treating (Round Two is on Saturday with her Uncle). As part of Halloween decorations, they had this tiny little bag of VERY authentic looking body parts (I think they were flesh colored gummy things). I suppose you were to just eat them, or could use them as part of a Halloween cake, etc. The little foot looked exactly like a baby's foot (and size) at 24/25 weeks. It truly disturbed me, and rocked my world. It was innocent, but it still ramped up my anxiety. I will mention it to my mom today, and she will understand and make sure that item is pitched immediately (she is good like that).

Speaking of anxiety, I have been whipping out the home doppler 2-3x's a day. I have been so nervous . . . I think sometimes I might be feeling something inside me (remember, placenta being anterior means feeling movement later than most women do). But it doesn't seem to fall into the descriptions of anything I have googled. To me, it feels like this little muscle spasm, a quick wiggle of a spasm. Last week it happened for a second on my left side as I was laying down to sleep and I thought it was probably Urban Myth. But now it's on my right side, which has me confused, as that is where my placenta has migrated to, and I would therefore think that it'd be harder to feel anything in that spot. Having had wiggly muscle movements during past pregnancies (which all ended poorly), I hope you can see where this particular anxiety is originating from). I suppose it's possible it's just stretching of my uterus and other bodily parts. I have put on a couple of pounds in the past week, and now the pregnancy jeans I bought at 12 weeks have me feeling like a sausage in tight casing.

If anyone has any light to shed on this, please do.

In other news . . . via email yesterday I told my cousin "Dan" and his sweet wife "Nancy" about our Urban Myth. They had struggled for years (suffering thru several m/c's and internal bleeding and loss of a tube for Nancy) before giving birth to their daughter about 8 months ago. I know firsthand that crossing the "I am Finally a Parent" finish line doesn't erase the pain of babies lost, nor the years of frustration. They were kind enough to inform me of their pregnancy via a lovely note, and I wanted to extend the same courtesy. They were thrilled for us (I missed their v/m as we were trick-or-treating), and it gave me a bit of confidence. Telling people still scares the shit outta me. I am planning on sending a similar email to the rest of my extended family (second & third cousins I see at Thanksgiving) over the weekend. I also sent an explanatory email to a "Waiting" friend (waiting to adopt from China, in process of switching to the special needs line as we did), and am hopeful that she deals with the news okay, too.

Oh, and the receptionist at my office was really b*tchy to me this morning as I walked into work, and though I pointed this out to her, she started in on me, and by the time I got to my office on the second floor, I was in tears and starting to hyperventilate. Lovely! Grrrr.

UPDATE - the receptionist just felt the need to make a special trip to my office, and tell me again that it is ME who was wrong. Lovely! I am so sick of other's people bullshit, and this particular issue has been one that she been riding my ass about for over two years, so it ain't just me being sensitive due to pregnancy. Basically, if I come to the front door and it's locked and I take out my key, when I enter she chastises me that "I was going to buzz you in!" If I find the door locked and I hesitate a half-second before reaching for my keys - thinking she is going to buzz me in, I am greeted by "Why don't you use your keys?" If I think I heard her buzz the door (it's VERY loud outside our building with lots of traffic) and pull on the door and it's locked, when I come in she bitches that "You don't have to break the damn door off it's hinges." If she buzzes the door and I don't get it within a half-second of being buzzed, she chastises me with "Didn't you hear me buzz you in?" (no, bitch, because the trafiic is zooming by at 45 gawddamn miles per hour a mere 20 feet away from our door!)

This morning happened to feature her being five feet from the door and walking towards it as I approached. Now, I figured she was going to push it open for me. Nope, she looked at me through the glass and mouthed in exaggerated fashion "USE YOUR KEYS." As I came through the door I pointed out to her that "I can't win with you. No matter how I enter this building in the morning, it's wrong in your eyes." WELL, you would have thought I had accused her of kicking a puppy, based on the drama that ensued. I was told that "That's the way I am, I give everybody shit about the door." I pointed out "How would I know that, I never see anybody else entering the door when it's locked?!" She is the only staff member (out of 10) who sits on the first floor. Our door is unlocked when we are having a class downstairs, though. KEE-RIST ALMIGHTY!!!!!!!!!

Going Dark

I am getting the feeling that folks are tired of me being upset about things that are said to me. On the one hand, I understand. On the other, I want to say this is my journal, and supposed to be my safe place to record my thoughts and fears, not just all of the rainbows.

Maybe it's just not being able to walk in my particular shoes. It'd be one thing if I could anticpate these situations and be ready to face them. It's quite another when, because of my rather visible job, I can't just respond to inquiries of "Is this your first?" with a simple "This will be our second child," because without fail somebody else in the room KNOWS me and my history and thinks it's fun to share "Hee hee, ask her about her first child - she's from China, ha ha" which then starts off the roster of inquiries and questions, when all I want to do is get through my business meeting or public event (which typically involves me testifying before a governmental body or giving a speech to a large assembled crowd).

So, if the rest of you are able to deal with these things, let them roll of you, and then testify on camera (cause when I give public testimony it is nearly always videotaped and can be reported on by the tv or print media) without missing a beat, while having all of these pregnancy hormones course through your body, then WOW, you are truly better than moi, and I say that sincerely, without being flip.

I do not pitch a fit in public when these things happen. I don't bitch people out publicly. I handle most of them with grace and a slight smile, and try to work in some corrective language or gentle education, always emphasizing the positive. Or I re-direct the conversation. Unfortunately, these techniques don't always work with others.

I have seen a counselor in the past, and do have an appt next Tuesday (Election Day, of all days, which is ironic considering my job is in politics), and we will vent and strategize some more.

But I blog in order to have some place to let the steam blow out of my kettle. Sometimes I do it while I am at these public meetings or functions, because it's the best way to keep myself from crying.

I appreciate everyone's concern. I do.

I do endeavor to do a blog entry on what I do and do not want to speak about with strangers in public, as well as what we (as a family unit) find acceptable or offensive. I don't speak for all people in my situation, only Our Family. But right now it feels painful to have to write that entry, and I am too emotional to currently do so. And between now and Election Day I am way too damn busy.

But I think I need to not share for awhile. Maybe I will move on to more benign topics, and save the things bothering me for emails with folks who know us more intimately.

Please do NOT consider this entry to be an angry one, it's not. It's a resigned one, 'cause I just don't know what else to do. Writing should be therapeutic for me. I am trying to get it to be so again.

Jury Pool?

So if EVERYBODY knows somebody "who adopted from China and, hee hee, got pregnant, ha ha" . . . Then that would mean on a jury there would be such a person (pregnant after China adoption), right?! And therefore I would be able to avoid a unanimous guilty verdict even though I strangled somebody.

'Cause I am ready to squeeze the phucking life out of people who, ha ha, say this to me, hee hee! Hey, right now I am at a biz lunch and of the 7 other people at my table, THREE had to share this with me.

It's hard to move forward when you are surrounded by this every phucking place you go.

Please don't tell me to calm down. I am truly struggling right now with "bonding" with Urban Myth, and these dumb ass things only hurt that effort.

UPDATED - it gets better ... One of speakers at this luncheon was talking about a fundraiser and used phrase "Chinese Auction". Granted, speaker doesn't know about LP. But I can still be steamed and offended. What other race/ethnicity would it be acceptable to STILL use this phrase?! Can you imagine if it was called an "African-American Auction"?! Thank God our church responded immediately when I brought this to their attention, and its now called the "Basket Raffle."

UPDATED MORE - I had done my own research on this previously, as the phrase "Chinese Auction" is something that seriously annoys/offends the Chinese and adoptive communities. It seems to have originated with a well-meaning female philanthropist who was trying to spice up fundraising efforts for charity back in the early 1900's. At that time, they were called "Chance Auctions," but things from the Orient (as it was called then) were en vogue, so she got the idea to add some mystery and sophistication to her event by calling it a "Chinese Auction." Most people don't even notice this, but please think of my child eventually at some school or church event, there being a "Chinese Auction" and her peers (and a-hole adults) joking "ha ha, maybe they will auction YOU off, ha ha" -- can you imagine this?! And it wouldn't take much of a leap for some punk kid to say "hey, maybe that's how your parents got YOU, ha ha."

Some univerisities (I know of one locally) have even banned the phrase "Chinese Auction," and in its place use "Chance Auction" or "Basket Raffle."

Mummy-to-Be

So I am "out of the closet" at work and to my Board of Directors (all 33 of them). Overall, I represent a trade association of around 2,500 people -- so word travels fast.

This afternoon I was at an event with 400 of these people. At the sign-in desk was a guy from my Board of Directors who I know and like and respect. He was THERE when I made my announcement about Urban Myth about 1-2 weeks ago, and was on the Board before and during (and still) our adoption of Lil Pumpkin. He gives me a warm smile, and says "Hi Mummy-to-Be!" I say, "uh, Jim, I already AM a Mummy, remember?!" He gives me a sheepish look and says "oh right, well Mummy Two then."

Yeeeaaaaahhhh. I know he didn't mean harm. And probably I am reading too much into it. But I saw another Board member who I can confide in (herself with one bio kid and one adopted from Korea as an infant) and tell her what happened, without saying who the comment came from. She rolls her eyes and says "People are rude. And idiots. They don't think."

Really, I am letting this one roll off of me, I swear. But I still wanted to share ;o)