The Pool Snapshots

Snapshot 80: He is home...

2007-08-08T11:50:00.000-07:00

I am sorry it took me so long to update but here it is...

- July 28, 7:01 am a baby boy enters the world and stares at the wonderful mother who gave him birth.
- July 29, 9:00 am, anxious me and composed DH jump when the phone rings. They are invited by T. to come meet the baby a 11:30am
- July 29, 11:30am, the baby is all bundled up next to his mom; he is beautiful but I cannot yet really see him because I can already feel the pain in T.'s eyes.
- July 30, 11:00 am. We meet the nurse in the nursery and the baby is there too. We discuss about newborn care and other tips and things that overwhelmed new parents like us might need. I look at the baby in my arm and ache terribly thinking of T., alone in her room.
- July 30, Noon. The baby goes back with T. and she invites us to come in too. We talk about the adoption; we reassure each other that we are all going to work hard at making this a wonderful experience. T. is making sure that we know how to care for this new baby, what works, what doesn't. She says that he will need a lot of love and that she knows he will get tons with us.
- July 30, 2:30pm. It is time to let T. say goodbye to her baby. We leave the room and will come back only after she signs the paper. I am beginning to loose it.
- July 30, 5:00pm. We receive a call. T. is ready for us to come and begin our journey as parents. My heart breaks and I am a crying mess when I enter the room. I cry when I read the poem I wrote from her baby to her, I cry when for the first time I see the tears rolling down her face. I feel so small when she puts the car seat in our car and gives a last kiss. I loose it when she leaves with empty arms. We had over 3 months to bond and I saw how much she loved and care for her baby and I knew it would be hard for her but her pain was nearly unbearable for me.
- July 30, 6:00pm. We go home with our baby. He is a little boy, 6lbs 15 ounces, 19 inches. He is beautiful.
- July 31. We are parents. We have stared at our little boy all night and yes, we love him already. I cannot eat though because I cannot stop thinking about T. Our little boy N. will know about her and he will know how incredibly hard this was for her to do what she did.
- August 1: 2nd night with little sleep and our little boy has taken over our entire life, our entire heart.
We received and email from T. . She misses N, hopes that he misses her, wants us to tell him she loves him. And yes, I cry again, and again and again.

I know without a doubt that N. is here to stay, that we are loving him so much already but I wonder how long it is going to take for me to not feel guilt.

Snapshot 79: Baby, don't be scared.

2007-07-27T06:46:00.000-07:00

Baby, you are about to come and say hello to all of us waiting.

You were all safe and sound
Swimming around
Sucking your thumb
Thinking: “This life is grand!”

You were comfy in your mommy,
But were running out of room
In your four stars womb,

So they helped you and you agreed
To come out for all to see
You, the beautiful baby.

When you take your first breath of fresh air,
There will be a relieved whisper.
Then you will hear the voice of her,
Her who carried you for what she thought was forever
Your mother.

She will cry when she sees you for the first time
She will smile at the same time.

She will wish for you to have a voice
So that you can help her make the best choice.

She will debate in her head
And wish you could tell her instead

She will tell you she loves you
Think again about what to do

And when she decides,
You will be by her side.

So Baby, don’t be scared,
There will be a lot of emotions shared
After all it is about you we all care.

When a home is chosen for you,
There will be pain, but joy too.

Baby, don’t be scared,
There will always be somebody to love you.

Snapshot 78: Multiple Choices

2007-07-26T21:44:00.000-07:00

How does it feel to be so close and yet not sure at all about the outcome of this wait?

a) You feel like you are about to solve a great mathematical equation: if X is the pregnant mother, Y the prospective parent and Z the baby, how can X+Z =X+Z+Y?

b) You feel like you are about to discover the best recipe ever but you are not sure about the missing ingredient: Take a pregnant mother, Find a sweet but not too sweet couple or prospective parent. Mix together. If you are not in a hurry, let the mix rest for while. Don’t hesitate to mix from time to time. At the last minute, add a fresh bubbly baby. Wait a few days. All the ingredients might come together nicely, but they can also separate. In this case, try the recipe again.

c) You feel like finishing this darn puzzle that you began so long ago. You usually like to begin by the frame, to hold it together. But this time, there were too many frame pieces missing, so you did the inside first. The picture is one of a mother and hopeful parents next to her. The frame is the baby: that’s the part missing, as well as the signature piece on the bottom right corner.

d) You feel like all of the above and much more.

I’ll let you guess.

Snapshot 77: Due date

2007-07-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

We are live now. No more backtracking. It is here and now. It even feels strange to report about the now. It feels too close, too real even. But here it is.

T. is going to be induced on Friday. 27/07/2007. Beautiful date to begin the journey. The baby might see it differently and decide to come the 28 or the 29.

Get your beauty sleep, they tell me. Sleep? How can I do that with the gazillion things going through my mind? Actually, I do fall asleep. But I wake up because I have forgotten to breathe or something.

What are those gazillion thoughts waking me up you think?
Here is a sample:
-I am going to be a parent. But what if I am no good at it?
-T. has the right to change her mind. And she might.
-I am going to feed, love and care for a newborn. What if I don’t bond right away?
-Being a parent might happen. I still have a cool job waiting for me if it doesn’t. I know a lot of those kids too and it is going to be a great group of students. I will have all August to prepare my class.
-I am going to bring my computer to T.’s town so that I can announce the birth right away to all that are far away.
-I cannot announce the birth right away. Well I can, but won’t; it would be assuming that the baby will be ours when it will not be until T. decides it?
-I can already feel the outpouring love that is going to come rushing when we come home with the baby.
-If T. decides to parent, we have to take a break from all this for a while. I want to go one week out of town. What about Banff? We have always wanted to go hike in that area. Yes, that sounds like a plan.
- I still need to buy diaper covers. I think I probably need 8. I’d better keep the receipt. You never know.

Sounds like my brain cannot think straight. It definitely cannot.

Three to four days now and we will know…

Snapshot 76: On a lighter note..

2007-07-24T07:24:00.000-07:00

July 19, 2007

So I went to see about cloth diapers and learn about the whole shebang.

After a few questions on my part, the lady asked me if I was inquiring to make a gift to somebody. Apparently I either looked to old to be having a baby or I did not quite look the part. Once she learned that the baby would come through adoption, we kept on talking. She was going into her usual speech, telling me that it is best to order the diapers before the baby is due so that you have them right away, when she stopped in her tracks and looked at me funny.

I understood her look and I said myself what she wanted to say: no, we would probably not get the diapers early because you never know, this adoption could not go through.

I think that she should have just nodded at that point but she was so relieved that I said it myself that she went on: "Yes, I have seen so many moms getting the diapers and then the adoption did not happen, it breaks my heart for them".

Ok then, that was not too helpful. Not that I thought I would get a thrill out of ordering diapers, but you know what I mean. I guess our kid will be peeing all over the place for a while, so don't invite us over right away!

Snapshot 75: Kleenex anyone?

2007-07-23T14:53:00.000-07:00

July 16, 2007
I am on the road, driving down this stretch of highway, this straight line from my house to T.’s town. She has a doctor’s appointment today. She asked if I wanted to come, to hear the heartbeat she said. I am not sure she heard my answer as my own heart is pumping like crazy and resonating in my ears. Yes, thanks I really appreciate, I’ll come, is the answer that she hears. YES THANKS, is the answer that I scream inside.

It is the first time that we will meet just the two of us. Two people at such a different place in their lives. Two human beings searching for ways to connect on a deeper level. Two individuals ready to love the same baby.

I am on the road. T. sits next to me. It feels comfortable and good. We joke about reading directions. She is my co-pilot and we do a good job at finding the place with one U-turn only.

She had talked so much on email about not knowing what to say because she felt that she was going to embarrass herself, that I was fearing that we might have awkward silences. Well, that is if I found ways to stop myself from talking!
It never felt awkward. I think we needed this time together. Just the two of us.
And it is indeed a good thing that we had a lot to share.

In my native country of France, when the doctor is ready for you, you go directly from the waiting room to his office. There is a big desk usually and comfortable chairs for you to sit and talk about why you are visiting. Here, in the US, I have always felt oppressed when I was called and put in a closet-like room to wait for the doctor.

Today is no exception. T. and I are ushered in the closet. The nurse takes vital signs. And we wait. T. perched on the table, me sitting on the chair. We wait 40 minutes before the doc even shows up. 40 minutes. It is a good thing that we felt good and relaxed with each other right away and it allows us to talk about silly subjects where T. gets me laughing hard.

T. is proud to present me to the doctor who asks me if I am the adoptive mom… Why do I want to say no? Why is it that I look at T. for a sign? Why do I want to hide like I have done a bad thing? I sheepishly say yes. I know that the doc doesn’t want more. He has already moved on and has begun asking questions to T. Gosh, I have to get a grip.

After another good teamwork on the road, we make it to the pharmacy, then to the restaurant to have dinner. T. doesn’t like to decide where to eat. I don’t either. We jokingly talk about stopping somebody on the sidewalk to ask him or her to make the decision for us.

We finally sit down. As we are perusing the menu, we can hear a baby crying in the background. T. looks at me and says: “ This will be for you soon”.

I duck under the table, I frantically look for my bag; my hands plunge to the bottom of it and resurface with a handful of Kleenex to wipe the tears rolling down. The fountain is on. I am not sure I can stop it now.
I am pathetic.

Yes, yes, it will be for me… but it makes me so sad for you I say, so sad because it is going to hurt you and there have been way too much hurt in your life already.

She knows, she appreciates.

From that moment on, T. will open up and talk to me about her life, talk to me knowing that I will not judge, that I will listen. I will also get confirmation that my tear ducts are functioning properly, except for the off switch that is.

I am mad also. Mad at this society that has barricaded people in their own little world. Mad that we tend to think that somebody’s problem is to be solved by somebody else. As a teacher I have had to make tough calls, I have had to protect children when I saw that something was not right. I have never done it with the intention of separating a child from his family. But I have done it in an effort to bring in help.
That is why, as I am sitting with T. I don’t understand why the system failed her so miserably. Why people who knew decided to close their eyes because it was not their problem.

Her baby deserves more, a lot more she says. But she does too.
I hope that she lets us be there for her. There is nothing we can undo, but at least, we can try to give her back faith in humankind.

Snapshot 74: Life goes on

2007-07-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

July 6
I am envious when I see people keep calm and upbeat when faced with various obstacles in their life.
I am envious of couples that have been chosen and scream it to the World and embrace the idea that they are going to be parents.
I am envious when I read that some couples have an easy and wonderful relationship with the mother of their future baby.

But envy, I was always told, is a not very becoming. Envy does not let you see what you have.

Granted, our relationship with T. is about me swimming upstream while she is waiting at the source, but it is still a relationship.
No, there is nothing that will ever be written in stone that says that she will place her child with us, and we don’t want that, but she has not changed her mind yet and because we love and respect her for what she is going to do, we have to believe her words and that gives us hope.

And then there is life. Life outside of this strange, amazing, scary and wonderful adventure that is the merging of two families into one.

Yes I will be like a broken toy for a while if T. decides to parent but I also know that my life is much more than about me being a parent.

It is about enjoying being one with nature as we just did with DH for a week in beautiful Montana. It is about the friends that I laugh and cry with. It is about seeing my students grow into independent learners. It is about my passion for teaching, for reading, for cooking, for crafting meaningful gifts to friends and family.

Just like weeds keep on wanting to come back in my backyard no matter how deeply I get to the roots, life always goes on no matter how deeply you get wounded.

Why do I write this? Because even if I want to believe that we will be parents soon, I need to pack in my brain a back-up plan, a TLC corner that will pop up if need be.

Snapshot 73: The ups... and the scary downs.

2007-07-21T11:02:00.000-07:00

June 6, 2007
15 days. That’s how long we have been without contact. T is not responding to my emails. I make them casual. I talk about our daily life; I ask how she is doing. No pressure. But no answers.
I try questions that would require an answer. Nothing.

15 days. I am going downhill. Fast.
If she is changing her mind or has changed her mind, I want to know now, well, I want to know yesterday.

Day 16. I cannot stand it anymore. I decided to call. She does not respond. I left a message telling her that we miss hearing from her and that we think about her.

Day 16- part 2- I call her counselor. No, T. has not changed her mind. She just has a hard time reaching out.

Day 17- An email from T. Finally. It is long. In it she does all she can to reassure us that her silence does not mean she is changing her mind. It just means that she needs space, that she needs time to prepare herself for the separation.

It is a very nice message. Once again she picked me up. Not quite though. I feel guilty. Her words jump at my throat, my heart. She cares so much for this little baby and is already acknowledging how much pain it will cause her.

I feel like adopting her. I feel like she is the one who is in need of unconditional love.

Snapshot 72: Speechless

2007-07-20T07:51:00.000-07:00

If you are reading and wondering, I am getting closer to report on actual news... but the baby is still staying warm in-utero right now!

May 20, 2007
It is pouring down rain; the skies are very low, yet it is a very bright day. We are meeting with T. and her boyfriend in a restaurant. Over a month has passed already since we saw each other. We are on our own. No counselor this time. I think it’s better, yet I am pretty sure that we will not be able to touch on the hard questions.

We have brought a few gifts for T., but I was not prepared for a gift from her. Before I even sit down, she hands me a paper booklet. On it, in big letters, she has written down the name of her baby. Inside, she has put the ultrasound pictures at the different stages of development.

She wants us to have the booklet. She made it for us. I am speechless, blurry eye and all.

Is this the sign I was waiting for? Is she symbolically placing her baby with us now?
It is such a wonderful gesture. Yes, that’s how I should see it: as a beautiful gesture.

Words are flowing nicely between the four of us; we look like two couples having lunch together. It must look like we like each other, like we have fun together.

I cannot leave without trying a hard question; I have to be brave. Are you still feeling like you would like to place your baby? is the question I ask. She nods, she says that yes, she still knows that it will be her decision.

It will hard she says, very hard.

My heart breaks in pieces, again.

Snapshot 71: Choosing a name

2007-07-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

May 7, 2007
Today something changed. Something felt more real. Is it possible that T. really wants us to parent her child?
T. and I have been exchanging through email and we have found ways to talk about the baby using many different names: the baby, the little one and other names that would reveal the gender of the baby, which I am keeping a secret to all around me.
Yesterday though, T. wrote that it was time to talk names. She wanted to call this little person by a real name. Not any name. She wanted a name that would connect her to the baby and that would also connect us. She asked us to choose. She wanted us to choose.
Of course we had thought about names. But how could I do that? I felt that I had no right to impose a name that we really liked. Yes she was the one asking, but it is her child.

I have always felt that names are so personal. Either you like it or you don’t. What if she did not like our name? Sure this is a minor detail in the whole picture of embracing and raising a child, but still. I felt an enormous responsibility. Asking us to parent her child was already a huge decision for T. Now I felt that us choosing the name was our first decision as parents. I wanted her to get a good impression and yet I knew that there is so much that a name can carry. What if somebody that was hurtful to her in the past was named that way?

We still jumped in. I did explain all my feelings about names to her. We told her it was only a suggestion. She did not have to like it.
We knew after meeting T. for the first time that, as part of the child’s name, we would include the name of a person very dear and very close to her that had passed away. She did not ask for it. We just knew it was right.

I hit the sent button, both first names typed down.

T. never responds right away. I thought we blew it. She hated it and could not find a way to tell us. I wrote again. The impatient me. I told her, again, that it was just a suggestion. She could choose any name.
She wrote back. She loved the names. Was very honored that we included the second name. Loved how the two sounded together.

The baby has a name. I will not use it unless she does. It is her baby.

Snapshot 70: Shopping

2007-07-18T06:53:00.000-07:00

May 1^st , 2007

We decided to begin looking at baby furniture. We went to a great store not far from our house. I was ready to begin. We pushed the door, entered and … right across the aisle, people I know. I freeze, hide behind DH, tell him to move to another aisle.

Why you wonder? Don’t I like those people? I do, I do. Did I have a bad hair day? Nope.
I froze because I felt so guilty to be in that store, so guilty to be even considering buying furniture for a baby who is not mine.
And that, my friends, is not normal behavior. I wish I could snap out of this mode I am in. I wish I could have walked to that couple and say that yes, we were looking for a crib because we are adopting a baby in July.

T. is completely making us part of the plan, in each message she includes a note about the baby that will be ours and yet, I cannot wrap my brain around it.

We still kept looking at furniture. I definitely do not look like I am pregnant and I was dreading the question: “So when are you due? Because this crib takes quite a while to ship and blablabla.”

Of course the question never came. It’s all in my head says DH.

He is right. As a matter of fact, for the next 13 weeks, I have decided that he can take my head anytime. I’ll grab his: it is a lot less complicated than mine!

Snapshot 69: Not helpful

2007-07-17T07:14:00.000-07:00

April 30, 2007

As I try to remove my wall protection layer, a message comes and crushes my attempt at feeling Zen again.
For two weeks, I had been following the story of a couple in our waiting group who had been given the great news: they were chosen and needed to meet quite soon as the mother was not far from being due.
The whole group was on pins and needles and when it was announced during the weekend that the mother had been induced, we were anxiously waiting Monday morning to see the pictures of the new baby of the waiting couple.
The message was of a different nature though and the picture was gloomy: after the birth, the parents had changed their mind. They did not want to place their baby anymore.

Of course it is the best-case scenario when the parents can decide to parent and are able to do it. It does not take away the pain of the couple that was given the hope that they would start a family that same weekend.
I don’t blame anybody. I know this is part of the adoption road. At this stage for me though, it is NOT helpful.

Yes, I know that the most difficult part is for the first parents. I understand that. But if I want to be a parent, there is a good chance that I have a little bit of a heart and a brain that can have some emotions. If somebody who is going through a tough time reaches out to me, tells me that I will parent their child, then I will have the right to feel hurt and disappointed if they change their mind. I am only human.

Luckily, T. wrote again. It picked me up. Funny how unbeknownst to her, she keeps comforting me.
The baby is kicking and will be a great joy to us she says.
I need to buy stock in paper bags and tissue companies.
Breathe in, breathe out, Cry, Breath in, Breathe out, cry…

Snapshot 68: Slugs and Snails are fast in comparison

2007-07-16T10:02:00.000-07:00

April 27, 2007
3 weeks have gone by since we learned the good news. They have felt like 6 months.
Technically, if 3 weeks of this wait = 6 months, then 13 more weeks like this should feel like 24 months. That is insane right?

I have never really been pregnant long enough to know the feeling, but this waiting for the baby to be born must also be quite agonizing for a pregnant woman. Agonizing but real.

A pregnant woman works on bonding with the baby inside her.
I work on bonding with T.

A pregnant woman begins browsing the store for cherished items to buy for the baby.
I browse the store for meaningful treasures to give to T.

A pregnant woman reads books on how to care for her infant baby.
I read books on how to create a healthy, honest and respectful relationship between T. and us after the baby will be born.

I just cannot let myself think about the baby. I know I should but just typing this and my throat tightens. I feel the need to care for T. and I don’t know if she wants that. I would like to share how DH and I speak about the baby to be, how we get excited one second and how we stop the next as if we had committed a sin by assuming the baby would join our family.
It is incredibly hard. There is no paved road.

I keep pushing the date for when I will tell everybody. I am waiting for a sign. I know it will not come. It is only when I am brave enough to take a risk, brave enough to let the beautiful feelings hidden deep inside emerge at the surface, it’s only then that I will be able to allow myself to embrace and accept other people’s excitement for us.

Snapshot 67: having to tell

2007-07-15T09:15:00.000-07:00

April 23, 2007

Contracts have to be signed by the end of the week says the principal at my school.
The rational brain tells me that there is no need to sign the contract, as I will be a mommy by the time next September comes rolling.
The emotional brain is in doubts. It remains cautious and will want me to sign the darn contract.

I have to tell though. The specific position I am in requires a complex hiring process and I need to make my employer aware of my potential disappearance at the end of the year. In all, 3 people in charge of the hiring process need to know. Family and friends are in the dark about all this, but because I have to remain professional, my most intimate little secret is going to be passed on to people who might see it as a bother. After all, I am not going to make things easy for them.

Luckily, I am also very close to K., one the 3 people. I begin with her and as she cries while hugging me, I know I chose the right person to go to first.
Now they know. I will still sign my contract. They understand the risks.

The next day K. brings me saltines and pickles: “You have the right to feel like you are going to be a mom” she says.
We cry. And we laugh. She is still waiting for me to have a pickle craving :)!

Snapshot 66: A new twist on the wait

2007-07-14T11:15:00.000-07:00

April 21, 2007

Staying cool and positive during the past 25 months of “the wait” was extremely difficult. This new wait is indeed excruciating.
It has been one week and my stomach has been upset every single day. And I am not even pregnant! If I want to survive the next 3 months, I need to take up yoga or Tai-chi; I need to run up and down the stairs 50 times before going to bed so that I can exhaust myself enough to fall asleep instantly.

Most of all though, I need to work on bringing all my positive energies forward: I am such a worrier. It drives me nuts.
I feel like I am playing hopscotch in my head: If I land on 1, we will be parents soon; if I land on 2, it must mean that the mother changed her mind; if I land on 3 then……ENOUGH! Why can’t I be like DH: cool, calm, composed, as always.

We wrote to T. She answered back with the most beautiful message for my eyes and heart. It is our baby now she says, meaning her baby, my baby, DH’s baby.

I wanted to hug her when I read the message. I cried of course. And I wanted to go scream the news to everybody who wanted to hear it.

But I didn’t.

Six months ago, when we had to tell people that the mother who had chosen us had changed her mind, it was quite painful for me. And even though I am very hopeful this time, I cannot let go of the protecting layer that seems to want to cover my heart. I just cannot tell anybody yet. I don’t know when I will feel ok; I cannot have people be more excited than I am. And they will be. I am not at that place yet.

I am just shielding my overly sensitive blood pumping heart.

Snapshot 65: Bonding

2007-07-13T14:51:00.000-07:00

April 14, 2007

As the car rolls down the highway to reach our destination ( a mere hour and a ½ from our home), I am strangely calm. The hours prior to climbing in the car were not as zen. Stress pimples had appeared all over my lower face and I badly needed a haircut but there was no time for that. I tried to reassure myself that, surely, this relationship was not going to falter just because my hair was a few inches too long. As a matter of fact, if somebody else had mention a worry over hairdo before meeting a pregnant mother, I would have probably been in that person’s face telling her how irrelevant it was and how very immature it sounded.

Point taken. I won’t look in the mirror again.

We make it to the restaurant without problems. I hauled my two bags out of the car: little flowery plants and some homemade sweets for T and for her counselor; a gift in the form of books for T. as it will be her bday the next day; and 3 photo albums.

The restaurant opens for lunch at 11:30am. We meet at 11:30am. We are the only ones in the whole place and, although it feels intimidating, it is also a blessing.

We see each other. We hug and from that time there will be non-stop talking for the next 3 hours.

I have always thought about what it would be to meet for the first time. Always tried to come up with what I would want to say or ask first, how I would try to make it feel comfortable. I always wondered how others did it. Writing this, I am still amazed at how effortless and natural it seemed. T’s counselor was certainly an amazing mediator for all of us.

I had a knot in my throat the entire time. Not because I was worried but because the amazing person that we had in front of us kept blowing our minds with how strong, kind and mature she was.

It is human nature to want to complain. Hearing her life story, I realized how much DH and I have had a very sheltered life and how, despite all the adversity that she has faced, T. had an even more positive outlook on life than I have. Her courage, determination and drive to do better than what circumstances have put on her path, send quite powerful messages. She is a beautiful person inside and out and we knew, right after we left her, that we would be her strongest advocates and that we too, believed in her and in her dreams.

I had shed a few tears already as the knot was getting too tight but the floodgates opened when towards the middle of our time together, T. turned to her counselor and said: “They are the ones, I am sure”.

Snapshot 64: Falling in love with a stranger

2007-07-12T14:01:00.000-07:00

April 11, 2007

Yesterday, talking to our attorney: facts, rationales, direct.

Today, talking to T. (the pregnant mother)’s counselor: heart, emotions, life story.

What a difference and how much more human this all feels. I am already feeling connected, feeling also that wherever this leads us, I will have felt privileged to be on this young lady’s path.

T. was given 7 letters that matched the parameters that she was looking for. After looking at ours, she put the other ones aside. Her counselor encouraged her to pick 2 more so that she could see the entire profiles of more than one couple. T. was reluctant. She already knew that she had chosen us.

The rest of our profile just confirmed it to her. We were going to be the loving, kind and patient parents (her own words) that she was looking for. I was the stay-at-home mom that she wanted for her little one. We were both athletic and she loved that I would speak in my native language, French, and that I was a teacher.

Did it make me feel good to hear all that? You bet it did. When you have been waiting 25 months, when you have been doubting every thing about who you are and the image you project, it is very reassuring to hear that we sound like a nice family for a child after all.

Now, I still had to be my typical “the glass-is-half-empty” self. I had to doubt that this was going to happen.

The counselor did a lot to reassure me that yes, indeed, this was still very early in the pregnancy to make a decision but that T. felt very certain about her plan and that she wanted to have the time to know us.

And knowing us was going to begin soon. We decided to meet on the 14.

Snapshot 63: Bits and pieces

2007-07-11T10:17:00.000-07:00

April 10, 2007

Being chosen is like having a meteorite fall on you: you knew it was going to happen and it had been predicted; yet you know nothing about this meteorite. You just know that it collided with you because something shifted its trajectory. In fact, many circumstances have shifted the trajectory: infertility and desire to form a family through open adoption on one side and a pregnancy that was not planned on the other.

A meteorite is from outer space and this truly feels like and outer space experience. After the chock, we begin learning bits and pieces. They are disconnected to the emotion; numbers mainly: age, weight, height and years of education, cigarette, alcohol or drug use if any. Really no emotion attached to it. Facts.

There has to be a human being under those facts. I need more…

Then there is the due date. End of July. A date for a baby to be born; that must mean that it is real. It will have to be another true test of my patience. I thought that the past 25 months were hard. I bet that the next three months and a half are going to be excruciating. Nevertheless a new seed of hope has been planted.

But the vision of finally beginning to parent and form a family is blurred suddenly. The internal conflict begins: my brain zooms from the baby to the mother, back and forth. How can we do that to her? How can we be there waiting for her to be done with her part so that we can begin ours?

I need to know her. I need to feel what she thinks and yes, at this very difficult time for her, I am the one that needs to be comforted. I need to know that I am not a bad person for wanting to raise her child.

Snapshot 62: Spring Fever

2007-07-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

April 9, 2007
A flickering light is beckoning me.

The flashing, red, is reflecting against the yellow wall of the kitchen.
I walk towards it. And then pass it.
I go for the orange light first. The dishwasher. I open the door, remove the first plate, turn around. The read light is still flashing.
I walk back to it. Back to this demoniac answering machine that has made me act like an alien version of myself for now over two years. I pick up the receiver, click on a few buttons to get to the caller ID. I always do that: never listen to the message before knowing who called. The ID is in big capital letters. It’s our adoption attorney. I casually put back the receiver into place. I walk back to the dishwasher, remove yet another plate. Stay rational, cool; they probably call to request some kind of info, some paper…

“Hello, this is C. from D&M, we have a lead I’d like to talk to you about. I’ll try to call later”.

A lead? I open my dictionary. Lead, noun: 16 different meanings. Let’s see:

-a lead: thin strip of metal used to separate lines of type in printing . Do I need that?

-a lead: an actor who plays a principal role. Hey, wait a minute, I am married, what is she talking about?
a lead: an indication of potential opportunity. I like the sound of this one. Oh, but what about this last one:

- a lead: evidence pointing to a possible solution.

We have been chosen.

That’s what it means.

I am terrified.

Oh come on, you have been waiting so long, you have written endless sentences about this agonizing wait and now you are terrified?

Yes indeed, I am. I am terrified of feeling like I did 6 months ago when we were chosen and then discarded.

I am amazingly grateful that you, the expectant mother that we do not know yet, thought that the 2 dimensional versions of us was appealing enough that you want to see us. I just cannot allow myself to get excited. Yet.

Snapshot 61: Letters here, letters there, letters everywhere

2007-03-21T18:22:00.000-07:00

There are many ways to start a family.
Some begin in the bedroom, we had to move to the office
Some lie down, we had to sit down.
It was the middle of winter.
We didn’t know how to start, where to start.
We stared…not at each other. We stared at a computer screen that is

Our assignment:“Figure out how to make a baby find you by filling in an 8.5x11” piece of paper.”

Idea 1 – Choose a beautiful font. Select size 72, write the following words: “Ready to be parents- Would love to welcome you and your little baby in our life - Thanks.

Idea 2 – Talk about all the things that come to your mind about you and your dream. Use a small font- Select size 2 in order to fit everything meaningful inside the allowed format. Attach a good quality magnifying glass to the paper.

Idea 3- Find pictures that show how cool, fun, full of energy and friendly you are. (Omit the pictures that show you mopping around on a gray day or lying on the couch with a bottle of wine in one hand and the TV remote in the other).

Idea 4- Be smart-alecky: Draw a big arrow on the paper that says “Baby, Follow the arrows to get to us”.
Didn’t it work once when in Philosophy class in High School you answered the question by another question?

Force-fed Idea 5 – Follow the crowd. Do as told: an intro, a few paragraphs about you, a closing statement and a close up picture, so close your acne spores just shoot up on the screen.

After a lot of hesitation (right!), we chose idea 5.
And then we made copies. 300 of them.

Months went by.
We were asked for more copies: 200.

Time went by.
We had to do 150 more copies.

Eternity went by.
Today, we were asked for more copies.

An estimated nearly 500 letters evaporated into thin air.:A picture of us floating around, maybe somewhere on the moon. Words of our life , maybe buried under pounds of rotting trash. Intimate thoughts gone, given to be seen and read by people who maybe found the letter on a couch, under a pile of magazines. Our dream on a letter, maybe in a bottle, crossing channels and landing on soft sand.

Where oh where can our letter be…

I know… it is gently glidding until it finds a sweet baby.

Ok. No matter how beautifully romantic this image maybe, I am no Rousseau or Lamartine, so enough of the glidding now.

Time for a landing.

Snapshot 60: Keeping the dream alive

2007-02-27T22:04:00.000-08:00

February 2005

There was so much excitement in the air that it could be felt by all. I had packed everything in my pool bag: the latest parenting books, my phone contacts to all the friends and family who would answer my frantic questions from when a baby would come and be with us.

I shyly tiptoed in the cool water, one foot at a time but, when the emotions came rushing, I flapped my arms and began jumping in the water feeling like I was on top of the World, splashing water in everybody’s drinks and eyes: something was going to happen.

This was over 2 years ago, seven hundred and thirty long days ago… The ticking of my adoption clock louder than any of my heartbeats.

During the first year, I mostly swam at the top, while most of the second year, I could be seen swallowing big gulps of water, barely staying afloat, sinking in the dark corner of the water, mean as a shark.

Six months ago,
A little hand pulled me out of the pool,
So high was I
That I thought I could touch the sky.
Then, yes became no,
The little hand felt oh so cool,
I could only cry
When I fell back in the water, down from so high.

My brain went on overdrive, could not take it anymore. It shutdown. Down, down.

When the fog cleared up, I looked around and what I saw was just amazing: I actually had a life out of the pool; I was not to only be defined as a waiting person in a pool, or as the girl who wanted a baby. I had a beautiful life and I was letting it escape in front of my eyes. I have a wonderful relationship with DH, I am passionate about my work and my garden doesn’t cease to surprise me – have you seen the daffodils pushing their heads high up in the past week or so?- .

Keeping the dream alive is all I care about now.

So Year Number Three, bring it on: I am stronger, happier, even more sure that I want to be a parent… but watch out, don’t drag this too long, I can still bite.

Snapshot 59: Physical

2007-02-20T18:12:00.000-08:00

What? I have not posted since December 6? I guess I cannot really multi-task: reading other people's blog and writing in mine seem to not be compatible.

Last month, I got another reminder that quite a bit of time has gone by: in the mail, a letter from my agency, asking for yet another physical.
The 3^rd one. Third!
I am one of the lucky ones that never gets sick and since December 2004 when I did my first physical, I have gone to see my doctor for that reason only. This, to say that the guy does not know me very much… obviously as you will see below.

To help you better understand the context, I will also tell you that I was in a funky mood that day. Probably because of the prospect of having to think about this darned wait.

Doctor: “Hi, how are you?
Me: Great
Doctor: So, you are adopting.
Me: Yes. And it’s only the third time I come here to talk about it.
Doctor: Oh!
(Doc, it’s probably in my file somewhere, I know I don’t come often but the file folder you have under your arm probably contains that info).
Doctor: So, what kind of baby are you adopting?
Me: I don’t know, one with arms and legs preferably. (I told you I was in a funky mood; but quite frankly that was a weird way to phrase his question).
Me: (looking up and seeing that doc did not think it was funny). Well, we are doing open adoption and bla, bla, bla (fill in the usual speech)
Doctor: You don’t want to adopt from China?
Me: We have looked at it with my husband but we are strong in our decision and there were many factors and…
Doctor: I have a friend who has adopted from China. He has two daughters now. So you don’t think you will.
Me: As I said, we are strong on our choice.
Doctor: I just came back from India. They have a lot of babies there.
(Well sure, why didn’t you just snatch one for me)
Me: It is very rare to adopt babies from India. The children are usually 4 and older when they are considered adoptable.
Doctor: Oh, really. Well, have you considered other countries?
( By then I am wondering if my physical is going to turn up bad because my blood pressure is rising dramatically ).
Me: No.
Doctor: Well it looks like you have done your research and you know what you want.
(Breathe, breathe, don’t say anything mean- he still needs to autograph that paper you are clutching in your hands).

He did sign. I am off to another year. Yeah! I will probably look for another doctor.

Snapshot 58: Top ten - Part 1

2006-12-06T21:41:00.000-08:00

T’is the season to be jolly they say, so jolly I’ll be.
Here I go with part 1 of a Top 10 series …
Today, let’s found out the Top 10 sure way of knowing that you have been waiting to adopt for the past nearly 22 months while soaking in the pool:

1-You have gone through approximately 5 different swimsuits. That bleach water is not too good on colors.

2- You have seen 86 families being built in front of your eyes, jumping gingerly out of the pool abandoning their floaters and splashing water into your eyes while they make their hasty exit. What? Yes, it IS splashed water that was rolling down those cheeks.

3- You had all the intention of preparing a diaper bag because it was going to happen… soon. You actually regret not having bought one because some of them would have been really cute to pack your sunscreen and towel for the pool.

4- You forget to call the agency when you leave for a few days just like you don’t refrain yourself from that second glass of wine just in case you get the call that night. Yeah, can you believe that as a newbie I did that? Wait, you think I should never drink more than one glass anyway? Heck, I am French. I was raised in wine juice.

5- You have a very elaborate vocabulary consisting of a variety of words such as wait, wait, wait and oh, wait. And you can count the passing of time by the number of months you have been doing the said “wait”.

6- You get less emotionally glued to the adoption wait and you very pretentiously claim around that you have absolutely no idea why you are not chosen and that there is no reason why you should still be freezing your derrière in that water.

7- You thought that it would be impossible to wait one full year. You are nearing two years and it does not feel that impossible anymore. I am trying to go for the record here. Might as well accomplish something

8- You were so focused on the goal for the first year or so that you forgot how great your life is already.

9- You have changed your picture and letter about three times and you have finally realized that you could change it 50 times and it would probably not change a thing. Plus, there are way too many wrinkles to show for now so you’ll stick with the wrinkle-less pic.

10- You are very proud of having climbed the picture ladder on the agency’s website. Your name is now 5^th on the list. Four more to go, and we will be chosen. What? That’s not how it works? Well guess what, from now on it IS how it works.

Snapshot 57: My kids are great

2006-11-15T16:16:00.000-08:00

No, you did not miss on things happening around here and I did not suddenly become a mom. My kids are my students. I have decided that spending over 30 hours a week with them entitles me to call them my kiddos.
This year, I have another wonderful group of second graders and, more than once they have made my day.
Today was no exception.

In my class, I have a digital recorder that we use for group debates ( so that I can type what as been said and put it in our "discussion binder"). Another use is when the children record themselves while doing experiments: add a picture or two to that and off it goes on our class website for all to see and hear. The children also record themsleves when they read a book outloud. They know that I will listen to the recordings in the evening and talk to them the next day about the sounds they need to review.
Anyway, needless to say, the digital recorder is around all day somewhere in the class.
Tonight, as I listened to the files, here is what I found.

Thank you E. You made me smile big!

Snapshot 56: Big Ol' Nothing

2006-11-08T16:31:00.000-08:00

Is it me wondering
Or is there just nothing
That is happening?

Sure, little ones are growing
My wrinkles are deepening
Here comes the smell of gravy cooking
And my waistline is expanding

Holiday gifts are in the making
Rain keeps on pouring
Leaves keep on falling
And the phone is not ringing

Well, big ol’ nothing
Here is to hoping
That the season of giving
Keeps us all smiling
While we are waiting.

Snapshot 55: Waiting for the perfect match

2006-10-28T16:25:00.000-07:00

Where I wonder and I ponder…

Let’s take couples who decide to have children, couples who have the right recipe to create a human being on their own and who get pregnant when their little heart desire. Do they also need to go through as much soul searching as I have been? Do they need to sit for hours wondering why they want to have children? Do they need to write on paper what will make them good parents? Was the recipe given to them on the condition that they would explain clearly what they would be able to offer to their children?

Probably not.

I did all that. I wrote everything down for others to see. I wrote that I had so much love to give to a child, yet I did not choose to write “any” child. I wrote that I would teach my child to accept others with their differences, and yet I did not choose to accept a child who might be different.
See, I am looking for the perfect match. A child unhurt by months of in-utero abuse, be it alcohol or drugs, a child not abandoned but lovingly placed by his parents. The perfect match.

But when you have to do as much soul searching, you begin wondering why it is that on paper you say that you have so much love to give, yet you are not ready to accept any child.

The humanist voice in my head has been so much on my case lately: “Don’t they all deserve your love? Don’t you think that a child hurt by in-utero abuse or any abuse after he is born, a child who has been going from one foster care to the other, don’t you think that THEY should be the one benefiting of what you can offer?”

But the humanist voice is just that though. A voice. No back bones, no real intention to muscle up and take action. Why? Because I am scared. Because DH is too scared to even want to consider it.
I cry when I read blogs of people like Cindy who have had the strength to go for it, give those children the love they deserve. I cry because I whish I could do it.

So yes, I wonder and I ponder. Do I really want children? Because, surely, if I did, I would accept them in any shape or form.

Snapshot 54: Numbers

2006-10-24T14:11:00.000-07:00

- As of today, we have been waiting for 20 full months.
- We have seen 4 of our close colleagues or friends adopt.
- Our agency has facilitated 80 adoptions and 2 are on the way.
- 62 couples had entered the pool before us. Only 6 out of those are left.
- In the past 20 months, the phone rang 1358 times for calls not related to adoption.
- 4 years until I get to be as old as my mom when she first became a…GRANDmother.
- 20 years of age difference between my mom and her first teenage son.
Over 40 years of age difference, that’s what it will be between a future teenage child
and myself.

Oh boy, that’s two generations. Here is a kid that will understand nothing about black and white TV, vinyl discs or even the Beatles. I’d better get myself a crash course on today’s teenage trends if I want to sound half decent when I get to raise one in 15 years or so!

Snapshot 53: Escaping the wait.

2006-10-23T10:09:00.000-07:00

Escape, definition: A means of obtaining temporary freedom from worry, care, or unpleasantness.

Wait, definition: To remain inactive in one place while expecting something.

Escaping the wait, definition: something I need to do to remain sane.

Traveling, definition: great way to escape the wait.

Oh, I am having fun planning close and far away destinations. Places to discover, places to revisit, places to relax, places to be one with nature.
End of October is a week-end zoom to the big beautiful freezing cold Pacific Ocean, in a friend’s condo with a huge bay window facing the big blue.

End of November is Vancouver, BC. I love the city. It has so much to offer and it is so close to many nature spots.

End of December is Arizona. Being in the Pacific Northwest, it is nice to get little breaks of sun and warmer weather to help us deal with the rather gray days of our hometown. I would not want to go to Arizona during the summer but I love it during the winter.

January: the ski season will hopefully be going full blast so we will hit the slopes more than we did the past year. With the house remodeling the past winter, we were left with little amount of free time and even less amount of energy!

February, is Hawaii. Well, ok, this one is in my dreams so far. DH and I have never been and we want to explore these tropical islands. Here is the problem though: How do you cram in all these destinations in one year when one’s husband only gets two weeks of vacation a year? First of all, don’t get me started on this vacation deal in the USA. The guy has worked for more than 20 years and he gets two weeks? Granted, he just began in this company 4 years ago, but still.

So, we have to make choices: do we go to France this summer like we plan to or do we go to Hawaii in February? It is a hard choice. Hard because I have not seen my family since the summer of 2005 and if I do not go in 2007, then who knows when. That’s a long stretch without seeing them.

At the same time, when we go there, we always end up seeing the same places when there is so much more of the World to explore.

Isn’t that a nice problem to have? It beats wondering about parenting and it definitely puts me in un-wait mode.

Un-wait, definition: to remain active in many places.

Snapshot 52: Last chance

2006-10-17T21:50:00.000-07:00

This is quite a new wait. From May to the middle of September, the wait was punctuated with little rewards and feel good moments. It was a hopeful wait. A “wait, it’s almost over”.

Since the big middle-of-September-crash, my brain is slowly readjusting, finding new ways to cope, new alternatives to this endless quest. Lately, it has taken a weird turn. Words that would have been violently rejected a few months ago are now finding their way through my conscious brain. Words such as acceptance.

I can even write it down: yes, I am beginning to accept that we could never parent, not because we will decide not to, but because that is the way our life unfolds.

A funny little “acceptance” sign showed up in the mail today. In the wee hours of the wait, as I was purchasing baby items, I filled in a card that, in return, gave me a free subscription to “Parenting” magazine. For months now, I have been receiving this monthly reminder that I am not yet a parent. Then today, the magazine came with an envelope and a huge banner on it that said: “Last chance offer for Parenting”. I had to smile. Yes, it could well be the last chance. Acceptance.

Acceptance? I know that I owe it all to my rational brain; it is a brave defense mechanism after all, a way to prepare the emotional brain for such possibilities, a way to prevent it from falling into the abyss of no hope land.

But while the rational brain is a healer, the emotional brain will keep jumping up and down, rolling steadily on the long roller coaster of hope. Hey, it knows that it has a great back up friend who will heal the wounds.

So roll on emotional brain, roll on.

Snapshot 51: Peeling myself off is dangerous.

2006-10-14T15:10:00.000-07:00

Most days now I am able to not think about the Parenthood quest. I keep my mind busy with other projects. I am starting to see how it feels to peel myself off the dream.

This week, the peeling off turned out quite dangerous at time. It began with me pinching my finger between two wires that I was trying to cut with a metal cutter. I was sure glad no kid was around as I did experiment quite a bit with my expanding knowledge of English curse words.

A few days later, I nearly knocked myself out. I have a tendency to do things fast. Too fast. It is annoying for some, funny for others and quite tiring for my students who are always running behind me when we move from one area of the campus to the other.

Anyway, that evening, I was in the garage, coming back in the very dark house. I quickly crossed the laundry room and turned into the corridor. Expect that my little brain had miscalculated. My turn was one step too early and my forehead exploded in the door jam. It took me half a second to comprehend what had happened and, thinking for sure that blood was gushing, I quickly put my hands on my face while screaming the pain out. No blood though but enough screaming to make DH run to see what had happened. While an egg size bump was developing on my forehead, he was looking at me, shaking his head, not understanding how things like this could happen to a grown up woman. To make sure that the message was clear, the next day, my favorite knife decided to take a slice out of my ring finger as I was cutting a cantaloupe, setting off another head shaking session from DH.

Luckily, things usually come in three, so I have passed the worst phase.

Man, I am telling you, this peeling off thing IS dangerous.

Snapshot 50: Peeling myself off the quest to Parenthood

2006-10-07T18:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my second grade students wanted to know about gravity. Actually, they wanted to know if there is gravity on each of the planets of our solar system.
We plunged into books and also found a cool website about the possibility of living on other planets.
They loved to hear about Jupiter: first of all, there's no surface to stand on... You'd just have to swim around in an ocean of liquid hydrogen. But the gravity on Jupiter is so strong that you'd sink anyway.

As I drove back home, I thought about Jupiter. Sounded like the pool I have been in for so long now. And the strong gravity, that strong pull, yeah, I have sure felt it. For the past 4 years I have been sucked in the whirlpool of my quest to be a parent.
But really is that what is going to define my life? Is that the only thing I am about? Is being a parent a must? Sure, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby and the baby carriage… but that’s cliché.

Being a parent is hard work. It’s a lifetime commitment. It is full of plenty of things that I am sure I will not enjoy.
Oh come on, don’t tell me that anybody in their right mind wants to be sleep deprived? What about changing poopy diapers in the middle of the night? Anyone? And cooking, washing laundry, dealing with all kind of viruses, getting up at sunrise to take you kid to a soccer game as it’s pouring and cold outside, going to a Chucky Cheese birthday party with tons of kids, getting called to the principal’s office because your child seems to be testing limits, waiting anxiously at the bottom of the stairs to see if your teenager is going to be back at 10:00pm like you have discussed for ten hours before he left for his first “night”party, hearing from the same teenager that you are an old fart who obviously cannot understand the world as it is and so on…
And this is a pretty tamed list of the thousands of unpleasant things that can pave the road of parenting.

So, the rational brain is trying to convince me that peeling myself off the parenthood magnet is not that big of a deal and could nicely extend my lifetime and reduce my hair loss.
Yet, the emotional brain, the one obviously not in its right mind, is unable to let go of the quest.
What if it was just a “I want it therefore I have to have it” type of quest? Don’t I then run the risk to be overwhelmed or even disappointed? You know, just like the kid who wants so badly to get a new toy and then barely looks at it the day after Christmas.

Wow, I definitely need to peel myself off the magnet to reflect on this and, who knows, I might find another magnet with a stronger pull.

Snapshot 49: The glass half-full

2006-09-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

Life goes on. You can either decide to crawl up in a ball in an obscure corner or you can put away the episode in the “painful memories” part of your brain, and you move on.
I still remain with a glass half-empty vision of the world while DH tries to pull me up with his glass half-full vision.
When we were finally able to talk about all this, meaning when the floodgates finally closed and my frog eyes had returned to their normal I-am-not-that-young puffiness, DH could not wait to share one of his thoughts.

Over a year ago, when we were looking to buy a new house, we found what looked like the perfect house for our needs. We loved the backyard, loved the area. We put an offer on it. It was accepted; we signed all the papers. It was a Friday. Then we waited. We waited for the MLS number to disappear from the website. We waited to receive the confirmation papers from the real estate agent.

By the middle of the week, as I was coming through the door, DH asked me to sit down. The house would not be ours. The agent had waited for an offer so that during the week-end she could put our offer against others. Somebody offered more. The agent did not even bother calling us. She sold the house.
Nothing could be done. Nothing was ethical about what had happened but there was no recourse. We felt cheated and used. We felt disrespected. I was mad.

A few months later, we found another house. It was different, but it felt right. The backyard was not to our liking, but we had never been afraid to do hard work. We put an offer. It was accepted. We had a new house in which we moved a year ago.
Many times since then, we have been discussing about the two houses. Every time, we both come to the same conclusion. Both houses were great but this one is the best. This one feels like the house we wanted.

After reminding me of the story, DH looked at me with a grin on his face. I looked at him puzzled for a second. Then I knew what he wanted to tell me. He wanted to let me know that things will be all right and that, even though everything seemed so perfect about this situation, there is an even better outcome down the road.

Aaaaah, the glass is half-full people, you have to love them!

Snapshot 48: Drowning

2006-09-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 5 days after getting the news, 5 days of making plans and thinking of happy endings, I made a call that will have me drown in one second at the bottom of the pool.

As I was getting ready to talk to the parents of my students during my yearly back to school night, I decided to call the agency to see if a time had been set for a meeting.
The counselor had actually tried to reach me. The news was not good. There would be no happy ending after all.

The mother had made her choice on Friday. She had called the counselor who then called us. During the week-end, the father wanted to get a look at the profiles again. By Tuesday they had decided to choose another couple.
We were dumped. Gone. Out of the picture. Over.
I drowned.

I still had to be pumped up and excited in front of the parents. I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know how I drove home when the floodgates finally opened. The windshield wipers were useless.

I could not talk to my monopolar DH. I knew that he would be fine, I knew that he would find some positive out of this.

I was not ready to make nice. Not ready to be positive and upbeat about the future. I felt that the mother had been cruel and yes, I was mad.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that in the context of open adoption, the mother has the right to make any decision at any time. I respect that. I don’t respect that she had us called when she knew that they were still looking at profiles. Cruel.

I have already used all the Kleenex boxes in my emergency kit. I don’t know how to bounce back. I don’t know why it has to be so hard. I wish I could stop wanting to be a parent. It would probably be much easier.

Snapshot 47: How do I do this?

2006-09-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

For the past 18 months I have been on the edge because of the wait. I was getting to be a pro at it. I would wave people in, I would show them all the great and not so great corners of the pool, I would sit at the bottom without breathing for days and resurface a better person at the surface.
In short, I knew how to do the wait.
In short, I don’t know how to do this new type of wait.

The immediate family and one friend who have been told congratulated us. My fellow bloggomaniacs left me the sweetest messages (thanks you guys!).
But me, I am drawing a blank on how I should feel. I wish that the little voice deep inside could scream out the “Oh my gosh, it is so exciting, we are going to have a baby!”, because isn’t that how I should feel?
Instead, I keep it deep inside because I don’t know how to do this. I feel that if the mother chose us, she wants us to be happy with the news. At the same time, I feel disrespectful to her by making her baby ours. ( add a loud scream here and hair pulling).

On Sunday I went to a baby store to check on some items that we will need. I entered. Toured for 5 minutes, began feeling nauseous, got out. That’s when I think I knew why I could not do this.
See, the only person that told us about the choice is the counselor. Although she is real, she is not the “parents” of the baby. And that’s what I need right now. I need to hear from the parents. I need to see in their eyes that they chose us and they mean it, I need to feel it in my heart and through all the pores of my body, I need to have cried over it, I need to have fully experienced the emotion.
Then, only then, I think, will I be able to unglue my feet from the ground and let myself be transported to the starting line of this fabulous, exciting, scary and beautiful adventure we are embarking on.

Now, can you believe that one of my brothers suggested I start taking some magic pills to help me relax? He says that my writings are kind of heavy.
What? You can believe him?
Sorry readers, don’t take it personally, but somebody has to carry the burden here; and with my small built, I ain’t going to want to carry everything on my shoulders; so, I pass it on to you because I feel sooooooo much lighter after!

Snapshot 46: Stunned

2006-09-16T09:42:00.000-07:00

Right this minute I am walking in a parallel world.

Friday, September 15 2006 at 900 hours, we learned that the mother had made her decision but that she wanted to share it with the father. The counselor told us she would call us on Saturday.

It gave me enough time to get two emergency kits out of the closet: the paper bag one for breathing in and out, and the one with the 15 boxes of Kleenex.

Friday, September 15 2006 at 1600 hours, we learned that the parents of the baby to be chose us. I am glad I had the paper bag kit ready.

I should be screaming, running around, throwing my hands in the air. Nope. I am just stunned. My feet are glued to the ground. I think I know why. The rational brain is trying to help me figure this out, so here it is.

Something real is finally coming out of those 2 years of paperwork and wait. It is not about being picked anymore. It is about the lives of 4 adults that are going to merge, hopefully fuse. It is about the millions of responsibilities that this little being, not born yet, will bring with its first cry.

I am not touching the reality of this yet, but I can feel it. I think that I am going to puke for the next 40 days. Because, yes, here we go again, 40 days.

This is surreal.

I do need to keep my feet on the ground though. Right now, it is their baby and if we do not have a good connection, they have the right to decide to move forward with somebody else. They also have the right to decide to parent now and until they decide to sign any paper.

It is hard. I feel that I cannot let myself loose. I cannot really say “we are going to have a baby”. No. We have been chosen. It is stunning enough for now.

My brain is back into a spin cycle. I am not sure it will stop soon.

I am still in the pool, but the towel is inches away from my fingers. Sometimes in the next week or two, we will travel to meet the parents. Then, maybe then, will I be able to sit on the side of the pool. Maybe then will I have seen that it will really be about a baby.

Snapshot 45: Dear Poolsnapshot,

2006-09-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

Dear Poolsnapshot,

I understand that this wait is difficult for you and I appreciate your sense of humor through it (that’s for me saying that I was quite wrinkled- and, well, humor is the next best thing after being moody and sad and quite deflated).

At this point, the mother has not made her decision yet but I should be in contact with her today. Please know that I forwarded to her everything we discussed.

Hang in there…

-------------------------------------------------

I truly like this counselor. I do. But something has been bugging me. It has nothing to do with her. It is more about the whole system.

Two weeks ago, I, as well as other couples, was being quizzed on a number of questions from the mother. The counselor was listening and taking notes. She sent the same notes to the mother.

Well, it is hard enough to know that I am being judged based on a stack of flat papers full of my bio and photos, but through this last question and answer process, I realized that the mother was getting even less of me and DH.

She was getting information about us FROM somebody else. Of course I trust this counselor, of course I know that this is her job, but I do not know how you can remain 100% partial when retelling somebody’s thoughts.

I feel that I can be good at it but I also know that my own emotions play through when I retell info to somebody. I feel that what the mother is getting is either pretty cold answers or heart-felt answers.

Let me take an example. One of the questions was: “Do you plan to be actively involved in raising your child? Meaning do you plan to have one parent stay home?”

Possible retelling of the answer received by the mother:

1-Yes, Poolsnapshot will stay home until the child enters preschool.

2-Yes, both Poolsnapshot and DH are excited to have one of them be available at home for a few years. It is a commitment that they feel is important for their family. It is not a fashionable statement; they truly believe that it is beneficial for a child to be raised in the family setting for the first years.

Can you feel the difference? I would.

The counselor also mentioned to the mother all the things French that we would do with the child: speak French to him/her, travel to France, send the child to a French bilingual school… I am sure that she wrote this to show me that she had listened to everything I said; instead, reading it, I felt sick to my stomach. It sounded like a brochure or an ad: “Send your child to the Poolsnapshot and this is what you will get! But hurry, this offer won’t last long . It is such an amazing deal, so call now!”

Yes, sick. Who cares about all that! It should not have been a full paragraph. It could have been told in one sentence. “Among other things they will do to raise the child, they also intend to keep a strong link to the French heritage.”

Well, you say, why didn’t you just answer that? Because, the counselor asked me in what ways we would do this.

There is no need for if, and what if; it is too late now. I just don’t like somebody retelling my words for such important things.

Snapshot 44: Dear Counselor,

2006-09-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Counselor,

Well, you did give me the green light to bug you when things were becoming difficult to handle in my brain. So here it goes.
I managed to survive this past two weeks with little damage to my sanity until this weekend, when my whole entire brain went into an uncontrollable spin cycle. Today, I am emerging from this quite wrinkled. Better, but wrinkled.

If you know that we will not be chosen, let me know, yesterday preferably.

I imagine that my torment is barely a third of what the mother’s torment is. What an incredible and tremendous choice she needs to make. “Of course she needs to take her time” says my rational brain. “Wouldn’t two weeks be enough to know that we are or not the best fit, especially when you have had our profile in your hand for the past 4 months now”? says the emotional brain.

I sure don’t want to be me right now. Too many voices talking at once. Not fun.

Snapshot 43: On being chosen

2006-09-07T22:07:00.000-07:00

My brain has had a hard time these past 10 days. It is on hold. I called a number and I am sitting there, listening to the same stupid music over and over again with, once in a while, a voice chiming in to say: “Please stay on the line while I transfer your hope to the first parent who might or might not pick you”.

I am desperately trying to convince my brain that it needs to make plans, to work on future projects with my new group of students, to get excited about the next planned vacation. But my brain is on strike. The world of possibilities has taken over. The idea that tomorrow could start a story between two families overwhelmed the rest.

I soon will need to put a tape recorder under my pillow, one that will repeat to me that if we are not chosen, my life is still full and happy and great and exciting and, and, and… and that after I would have lost 10 pounds from tears sliding down my face at an alarming rate, everything will be back on track.

But, although I would not mind loosing the 10 pounds, I cannot accept the scenario of being told that we will not be some of the main characters in the story ready to unfold.

I have lived a very sheltered life as far as “being chosen” or “accepted” is concerned. All the small or major steps in my life never required trying twice. It all happened the first time I tried: high school baccalaureate, driver’s license, entry test to the teaching school, teaching degree and diploma, all my teaching jobs, my application to work abroad as a teacher. I did not even have to apply for the administrative position at the school I work at. I was asked to take the position.

I have never been “not chosen” when it comes to the practicality of life. I do not even know how it feels. And I can honestly tell you that it is not because I am the brightest star on this planet. I am pretty average and always passed with average marks.

The most terrible thing about this, and I have to confess it here, is that I am unable to focus on what is the essence of this choice. I am unable to get passed the “what if I get rejected” feeling. I cannot see a baby in the picture. It is all about me and my scared-like-crazy-overly-centrist ego. Because it is not the baby that would reject me, it is another adult that never met the three dimensional version of me.

I want the stars to shout messages at her, to let her know that I want so badly for her to give us a chance, that I am already so respectful of who she is and how her questions have shown me how much she cares for the baby she is growing in her.

Love is bursting out of my ears and I cannot contain it for too long now.

Don’t let me explode…

Snapshot 42: Get in line, please.

2006-08-30T22:22:00.000-07:00

Preface: Had I been in the position of a first mother, I would have wanted to know so many information on the adoptive family. Pictures, yes, profiles, yes, sound files even, videos about their daily life. To me, it is only natural that the first parents would want to know everything they can about you before making a decision. This said, and because the rational brain is quite uptight, we will let the emotional brain get loose on the description of quiz day.

I woke up feeling tired. I tossed and turned, not wanting to accept that even closer to beginning a relationship, we might be asked to step aside. I wear my emotions on my sleeve so I knew that it would only be the true me that would be able to answer the questions.

I like the counselor. She is real. She is not trying to tell you what you want to hear. She is stating facts and she is asking clear questions that demand clear answers.
I learned a lot more about the first mother and I am hugely impressed by everything… ok, maybe not by the fact that she had to pick a handful of families when we are obviously the best :). She is such a strong person and she would be a great parent. So why would she want to place her child? Because she believes so strongly that two parents should be involved in a child’s life that she cannot even think about being a single parent. It does not fit her idea of how a child should grow.

When the questions began, I truly felt like I was in a line-up… Face this way please. Speak loud into the microphone so that we can hear you. Do you swear to tell the truth, only the truth, nothing but the truth? Now step up and be as natural as you can when answering these “you are in or you are out” questions.

Boy, the pressure. Number one: How open are you to being open in this open adoption that might open up for you? ( ok, not quite the question, but close!). Oh, I am open. See the sign on the top of my head; it says Open, 24/7. I am so open that I don’t even have doors in my house. That’s how open I am.
Number two: Do you plan to be actively involved in raising your child? Well, we were thinking about putting the baby in a day care after the first week and getting a sitter every night. We are not that young and we need our rest and… What the heck! Are you kidding me with this question? Oh, you mean, would one of us stay home for a while? Yes, that’s a big yes. Actually, do I really have to go back to work one day?

There were other questions but that are way too much info for this blog. They just reinforced how much this mother cares about her child.
Do you have any questions for us? I do actually. What exactly is the time line, when will you tell us if we passed the test, if we made it to the next challenge, if we got booted of the line?

She should make a decision in about 2 weeks.

You are right little brother: Breathe, breathe…

Snapshot 41: Breaking news

2006-08-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

We interrupt our monologue on Parenthood for breaking news.
At 5:00pm today, the answering machine was blinking. There was a message from a counselor at the agency.
At 6:30pm, DH came back home and announced that he got a call from another counselor at the agency.
My head began spinning and twisting in many directions. We were back in time, it was May 14 all over again. Two calls the same day.

5:00pm voice mail: the mother who had liked our profile in May is back in contact with the agency. She is moving forward with her plans to place her child. It took me more than 5 minutes to digest this information but it took me less to begin crying uncontrollably when the message said “and she is still looking to choose the right family”.
Why, said DH, why would you cry about that? I’ll tell you why. I was letting go of a possible beginning to the parenting adventure, I was accepting and applauding that she might have decided to parent. And, because of my the-glass-is-half-empty attitude, my mind made a quadruple summersault during which I had enough time to see the mother picking ANOTHER family. At that minute, I just could not handle it, could not accept that it would again reopen a painful episode.
Hey, don’t scream. I know that she needs to find the family that best fits her needs and those of her child. I just don’t need to know that I am a reject.

The counselor wants to talk with us. The mother has questions for the potential adoptive parents. It’s a test people. No multiple-choice questions. Open questions. You answer wrong, you forget to hit the buzzer and you are out.
I do NOT like this. Call me to tell me that we will never be chosen, ever; call me to tell me that we were chosen for good. But don’t make me take a test.

Hey, did you recognize it? Yes, it was the emotional part of my brain talking . Rational brain here knows that the more the mother knows about us and the better it will help her make her decision to ~~choose a family for her child~~, to choose US as a family for her child. Oups, excuse me, it looks like emotional brain is taking over again.

6:30pm- DH talked to another counselor today. It is a screening call. Meaning that something is not typical in the situation so we are asked to volunteer our profile or not. It turns out that we are fine with this non-typical situation. So yes, we are volunteering our profile. “Like probably most of the pool will”: you know who talked there? The half-empty glass. Here is DH now: “Well, that will still give us exposure to one more person”.

Oh, and look at him, sitting calmly on the couch, relaxed, composed, while I am crying, laughing, biting my fingers, doing loud and sudden exclamations. Don’t you get irritated with monopolar persons?

Snapshot 40: Why, exactly, do I want to parent?

2006-08-25T22:02:00.000-07:00

While traveling on the long road to become a parent, I have had only one stop in mind: the day we would welcome a child into our home.

Lately, because I see no end in sight to the old darned road, I have been forced to explore the fundamentals of the goal. What is it that is making me be so sensitive to this wait:

-Is it because, as a woman, it is inevitable that I would have to parent one day? Yes, there it is, it was written, it was in the stars way before I was even born. Come on, really: it could be imprinted in my brain and I could have no control over this urge to parent? Well, I don’t buy that one. I choose not to buy that one.

-Is it because I have to have what I cannot have, just because I said so? So, so childish and it reminds me of Christmas times when you want something so badly and wonder why you made such a big fuss about it by December 26. Yep, I’d better explore those fundamentals, because the baby comes with a one-way ticket and lifetime warranty, no extra charge.

-Is it because I am so bored with my life that a kid would be sure to spice things up? At the risk of disappointing you, I actually have no time to be bored and sometimes wish I could learn to do nothing once in a while!

-Is it because babies are so cute and they smell so good and you want to hold them all the time? Well, although this is a pretty fair statement (except that sometimes they don’t smell so good and you want them to hold themselves and stop screaming in your ears), babies have a tendency to grow…fast. The cute baby becomes a teenager. Yes, a teenager! And that’s where I have put myself at, on my back-to-the future time line: with my teenage child standing in front of me. The thought was enough to make me walk backward off the road to parenthood. I mean, who in their right mind would want a child because they might one day become a teenager? Don’t you know that they make those babies so cute and so attractive just as a bait to get to you?

Well, I have come to the end of my questioning and I am beginning to wonder if I know why I am rolling down this bumpy road?

Is it because I have so much love to share, because I feel with every pore of my body that the experience will enrich my life, make me a better person: I will have to be less selfish, I will have to care more about the future of this planet, about who is elected to make decisions, I will feel that I contribute during my time on this planet Earth.
It is probably cheesy, might sound self-centered to some, but it is probably it.

But do I have to be a mother to do all those things? Probably not. Will I get a better chance of getting my 8 hours of nightly-sleep until the wee hours of my 80^th birthday if I don’t parent? I am pretty much sure of it.

Snapshot 39: On Parenthood

2006-08-17T22:02:00.000-07:00

For the first three decades of my life, I could find no real reason why I would want to be a parent. I loved kids; I enjoyed the ones who joined my mom home-daycare, I found a lot of maternal instincts fulfilled through teaching to little ones, and still do even while teaching second graders, but felt no great desire to parent.

The minute I found DH, all that changed. Or wait: maybe I found DH the minute I realized I wanted kids, you know, a case of the subconscious brain acting out.

Nevertheless, the quest for parenthood grew as fast as our relationship grew. Well, actually the relationship took a lot more work than we thought. Take two people who have lived more than three decades mostly on their own after leaving the family nest, put them together in a house belonging to one of them, and see them learn! Ouch! It was hot, heated, tensed, tiring, overwhelming but we never threw the towel, ever. We loved each other. It had to work. The psychological fistfight lasted until one day, when seating, each in one corner of the ring, we realized that it was not about winning the fight, it was about finding common grounds. It took three years all right, but when we exited the ring, we were stronger, ready to go back to our quest.

The first years of the quest, we became champions in abbreviations. After a lot of BFN, we saw the OBGYN who did surgery for PCOS; we then learned that DH had MI so we move on to see an RE. After three IVF combined with ICSI, parenthood was still MIA. I went back on BCP, sent RSVP to OA agencies and began the wait ( and……a free subscription to the Poolsnapshot goes to… the person who can un-abbreviate all the above).

Four years into the quest and I have had plenty of time to reflect on what kind of parent I would like to be and on how Open Adoption will shape my parenting differently. I have had time to try to imagine what I would learn from being a parent. I have matured in my understanding that despite the big responsibility that would await me, I will still only be a small dot in the numerous dots that will shape my child’s life. Parenting is a life experience like no other. Gardening, cooking, and traveling can all be experiences in your life. The thing is that you can quit them any time you want. You cannot quit the parenting job unless circumstances make it that you have to.

Is there an end to the quest? Inevitably, doubts are creeping in that we might never be chosen. What would happen to all the pores of my body that have been intoxicated with the dream of Parenthood?

Snapshot 38: Note to self: Stop reading about adoption

2006-08-13T17:29:00.000-07:00

I mean it. I have to stop reading about adoption. Granted, stuck in that tepid water of mine, as I try to find some room in our now overly crowded pool, there is not much I can do but swim or read.

I read about a lot of things but mainly about adoption. And there is tons of information out there. And tons of stuff that make my head spin and nearly explode with conflicting thoughts.

When you think, in general terms, about building a family, about caring for each other in this family group, and about creating a nurturing environment, you have a pretty good idea of what it will involve: love, work, compassion, compromise, respect, hardships, happiness, bottled up or don’t-even-try-to-talk-to-me anger, sadness, more work and more love. If you want to bring biological children into this group, people will usually be very supportive. Define usually you say? Well, I know, I can come up with many situations that are outside of the “usually supportive”. I would say though, that I do not personally know anybody to whom I would have said: “You are pregnant with a child? Are you really ready for that? Do you know what it will involve? Don’t you feel guilty?”

All right, I’ll admit that I might have thought, um, said a few times: “A third kid? Are you nuts? Isn’t your life crazy enough?”

In the World of adoption though, a whole new set of words is going to be attached to what you genuinely believed was also the building of a family. Not biological mind you, nevertheless a family with the same kind of involvement as mentioned above.

The World of adoption, out there in the World Wide Web, is ready to prove to you that you need to add the following words to your experience. Building your family through adoption is wrong. You should feel guilty for the rest of your life. You should think about coercion. Adoption is not the solution.

And you know how it makes me feel? It makes me feel like the fly caught on that Wide Web. I knew I shouldn’t have gone so close, I knew I could get stuck in one place. But the curiosity got the best out of me. I needed to know for myself.

If adoption is about taking away somebody’s baby, it’s not for me.

If somebody needs me to take care of their baby now because circumstances have made it that they cannot, then I want to be ready to welcome that baby. Maybe we should find another word for this. Maybe adoption is linked with too much baggage and horror stories. Maybe it should be called Acceptance: with first parents, children and second parents accepting each other.

I am not naïve enough to think that every thing is perfect or will ever be perfect even if you change the name. This morning again, I read in our daily paper ( now you know where I am from), this story that made my blood run cold in my veins. I cannot judge of what really happened to the 4 months old baby, but I feel so sad for the first parents.

So, despite the title of this post, I will keep reading about adoption. I still have lots to learn.

I need to trust that, without adoption, I am sensitive to others, I want others to feel good and happy (after all that’s why I quit an administrative position because heck, I went nearly cuckoo trying to make everybody smile with happiness at every hard decision I had to make), and I am not a bad person. When adoption enters my life (like it hasn’t already infiltrated my synapses), I will remain the person I am and I will not let others influence me. I will accept a child. I will not steal that child. And although I will feel sad when thinking about the first parents, I will not feel guilty about loving the child they would have placed with me.

Snapshot 37: I love kids

2006-08-08T07:57:00.000-07:00

One thing I knew I would do, if we were going to get less than positive news, was to put my head and entire brain back to thinking about school. After all, back to school is in less than a month now.

Every late June, I get sad to have to leave a group I spent ten months with. I am their teacher but they teach me even more. We laugh together, we get mad, we get excited and we even cry together. Each and every one of them has a special place in my heart, truly. I talk about “my kids” to DH. He gets to know them pretty well whether he wants it or not :). Whenever I pack my worries, sorrows or other things susceptible to put me in a bad mood, they stay right at the door of my classroom. I cannot resist"my kids" 's first smile of the day. It just makes me happy that they are happy to come every morning. Sappy, ok, but such a great balm for the heart!

Anyway. Time to think about my new group. 19 of them. Second graders. They already know me and, from all the recess I spent with them, I already know so much about their so very different personality and quirkiness. I know which ones are going to be my troublemakers, my full of energy-energizer-bunny type, my quiet who often need more attention than any, and my “Can we build a rocket Can we go on a Safari? Can we go back in time to explore?” type (because quite frankly life between the 4 walls of the classroom is quite limiting). I love them all. They each bring so much to the group, if only you take the time to listen.

This coming year will be another year where our little classroom cubicle is an open door to the World. Not quite the entire one, but my student body this year will have parents born in France, Canada, Mexico, Korea, India, Philippines, Kenya and of course the USA. And because I teach in French all day to them, it is quite a mixture of culture and languages which makes for an exciting environment to teach in.

So there it is. Time to shake the pool water out my hair, return the floating device for a while. I am excited about meeting the eyes and getting the smiles of 19 new faces. I love kids as a teacher. Maybe one day I’ll be the parent who kisses her child goodbye, telling her to have a great day at school.

Snapshot 36: Wait, I don't have a kit for this one

2006-08-05T09:20:00.000-07:00

We got an email answer from the counselor.

She does not know what the future mother plans to do. She does not know because they have had no direct contact for the past month and nearly half. Granted, half of that time, the counselor was on vacation. But still.

Being the glass is half-empty type of person, I would have a tendency to think that the future mother decided to parent. And I am totally happy that she has been able to figure out a way to make it work for her and her baby. The counselor will try to call her to get the latest info on her plans.

I quite don’t know what to do with the feelings that I was getting closer to begin the adventure of parenting. I am sure that in the next few days those feelings will bloom and reveal their true colors…

Snapshot 35: Data

2006-08-04T21:29:00.000-07:00

We entered the pool in March 2005.
76 adoptions occurred during that time.
The average wait is now 10.5 months. Guess who is helping raise the average? Me, me…
At the time we entered the pool, two guys just adopted a baby boy. Three weeks ago, they adopted baby boy number two.

Excuse me but somebody has to change the rules of the waiting game here. So here are my suggestions and because they are so reasonable, I am sure that the Board will accept them.

1- The average wait being 10.5 months, people who have waited more should be put on a priority list and should be given first to parents looking to place their child.

2-People who just entered the pool should have a 2 months right of passage before they can be included in the book. They, too, need to feel the pull of the water, the webbed feet and the pruned fingers.

3- People who have already adopted once should not be given a chance to adopt a second time until people who entered the pool before them have been chosen.

See, I told you. Totally reasonable.

Snapshot 34: Where are you?

2006-08-03T10:28:00.000-07:00

They tell me that if a child is meant to join our family, he/she will find its way to us. Apparently, at this date, either the child did not find his/her way or it is not meant to be. But let me tell you, it’s a good thing that it is the child that is supposed to find its way because, according to my most recent visit to the eye doctor, I am probably not so good at figuring out my way on a map. Eye capacity is going downhill. I knew it. All that glare from the sun reflecting on the pool water had to have some effects. Not only do I have to deal with very pruned fingers to type, but I also could barely see the screen.

So, I came back home yesterday with a pair of spectacles perched on my nose. Now I can find my way, I thought. My eyes fell on the calendar. I definitely could see clearly. I could see clearly that the day was August 2^nd, and we still hadn’t heard anything from the agency.

Oh, I know. They said that we could be put in contact by the end of July. So, technically, it’s only a few days away from the end of July. Heck, I throw away the milk carton the day of the expiration date, so when I am given a time, I go by it and then gradually begin loosing patience.

I did use all of my willpower to not call or write to the agency. Until today that is. Because today, my impatience won the battle. I wrote. I have to know if the future mother changed her mind. I need to know.

So guess what I am doing now? Yes, I am waiting for an answer.

My emergency kits are ready.

Snapshot 33: Where I wonder if I am sane.

2006-07-27T16:52:00.000-07:00

If, despite my attempt to tell you otherwise, you still think that I am pathetically attaching myself to a pool and waiting for life to go by until something pulls me out of there, you are wrong. I have been doing plenty of projects lately and accomplishing quite a bit actually.

Now, the problem is that there is this 10% of my brain that is activated by a little tiny button, invisible to the eye. A button, which, up until now, was easily controllable: on-off, on-off. That 10% comprises everything that has to do with building-our-family-through-adoption.

Unhappily, the on-off switch is now malfunctioning and it seems to be stuck on the “on” part. It also goes off but comes on at the most inappropriate moments.

I need to get that fixed. I don’t quite know whom to call though? The 10% brain disk-space allowed is way too big and I need to get that fixed too. I am lacking space to store other important info such as new cool ways to teach in the fall.

Oh, yeah, and there are bad interferences which make for crazy thoughts such as this one:

As we are waiting to know about this possible situation, I could not help but feel sad that we have never been called in the past 17 months. That we were never really chosen. The next thing I know, a little panic-attack situation presents itself in my mind. What if we get a call that somebody has chosen us and would like to meet us? And that, people, is where I wonder if I am sane. I begin thinking quickly about the possibility and the same thought keeps coming to my mind: “No, it cannot be, we cannot be chosen by someone else now. There is a mother and her growing baby who are already tinking about us, and inevitably, I am thinking about them too. I cannot love another baby yet until I know about the first possibility. My heart has already attached itself here. No thanks. Not now.”

While I am still wondering about my sanity, you might have come up with your own conclusion.

I need to put my head in the yellow pages, find somebody to fix that switch for crying out loud.

Snapshot 32: Preparedness Kits

2006-07-24T12:53:00.000-07:00

Despite constant reminders from my neighborhood newsletter, I have not yet worked on an emergency preparedness kit. My main problem is actually to decide where to store it. With my somehow pessimistic attitude, I can imagine that it would be buried under the rubble during an earthquake or floating away during a tsunami… If my pantry is still standing, I think it will do for more than the 3 day-kits that are recommended by the Red Cross.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking and I thought that I could work on some kits for this week.

1-The “We get a call to meet the pregnant mother” Kit should contain:
- A paper bag (for breathing in an out).
- A wet paper towel (to wipe the continuous smile on one’s face)
- A huge and strong rubber band that ties to a person’s feet and to the floor (to keep one’s feet grounded yet allowing some happy bouncing).

2- The “We get a call that the mother decided to parent” Kit should contain:
- Strong numbing cream for the heart and brain lasting at least 3 days.
- An eraser (to erase every single particle of the story that could have been).
- A taped message that you recorded while still rational and that you will listen to over and over: The child will be happy and this is all that matters, the child will be happy and this is all that matters, the child…
- And, as the ARC suggests, your kit should be adjusted for your personal needs… add here , personal needs in time of crisis: chocolate, red wine, a whole baguette with butter…

3- The “We get a call that the mother decided to place her child with another couple” Kit should contain:
- Same as in Kit number 2
- One-way trip ticket to Devastated Land with a small chance to win your way-back ticket to Hope Land.

I feel much better now that I am prepared… But, like with any old preparedness kit, I could still be dealt with the unexpected. Now, how do you plan for such a kit?

It could also be that nothing happens this week. Although, a quick look at my agenda and I can tell you that I have no time to be sitting on my behind waiting for Mr. Phone to chime in.

Snapshot 31: Roots

2006-07-23T18:01:00.000-07:00

During IVF times, I never allowed myself to believe that it could actually happened. Even when I was first pregnant and miscarried later on, I never let it be real. Since we have been in the pool, I have also tried hard to not get my hopes too high. DH always says that my glass-half-empty type of attitude is probably not helping good vibes coming our way. I am actually not spiritual enough to know whether there could be truth to this.

Incredibly though, I have allowed myself to hope that this possible situation is for real and that something good could happen.

Allow me to do a little parenthesis here: “Something good could happen”. The more I read from first parents and adoptive parents, the more I know that this “good” is also going to trigger a zillion of emotions over the years. There will be no book written that will exactly tell me how to deal with open adoption on a monthly basis. Our little family will have to try to map the trail and hopefully find smooth ways to walk on/ over/through/ by the obstacles. Some of you are doing such a great job at talking about it and you will be my open book for when I need it. I will just link to This Woman’s work for one of the most sincere writing on open adoption and great links to resources.

As I was saying, I am slowly getting the roots of hope find their ways through my heart, my brain and my entire body. It encompasses more than the idea of a baby. It is becoming so clear to me that I am just one in the village to parent a child. This child would have had a mother already, one that will have built many connections with him during the 9 months of pregnancy. Love can conquer a lot, but I know that it cannot conquer everything. I will have to be vigilant, I will have to listen, I guess I will have to be a parent.

I fear that the roots are going too deep, just like the ivy roots in my front yard that I have been battling with for a while and that keep coming back strong. But those roots are also good signs that I am ready. And hopefully, they will come back strong if this situation was to not be.

Snapshot 30: More mind games

2006-07-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

While I keep shoveling dirt in our backyard, I think. Isn’t it amazing? It’s called multitasking. Shoveling requires concentration (where is the dirt?), estimation ( can I really throw this full load?) and analyzing( so, if I shovel this dirt for 4 more hours, how many inches will I loose from my buttock?).

Despite all this, I still find ways to think. And here is a very interesting theory that keeps me hoping.

I was reviewing in my head, which month everybody in our immediate families on both sides were born in. Scary what shoveling dirt can do right? Be assured, I was actually doing this because I have been forgetting birthdays lately and decided to create a perpetual calendar with all those dates, kind of a monthly database of who is getting older when.

I entered every body from brothers, sisters, in-laws of all kind, parents, nieces and nephews and even decided to include our best friends’ birthdates. When I was done, there was only one month that was left completely open. No one in our circle was born during that time of the year. The month is October. The first parent we have heard about is due in October.

One is willing to see signs wherever they might be…

Snapshot 29: Those mind bugging numbers

2006-07-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

I have been to the desert and back. (If this last statement startles you, go back to Snapshot 26 for clarifications). I know. I should have stayed 40 days. But how could I? Despite the spectacular offer, nobody wanted to borrow my brain for those 40 days. So, you will understand that a desert is not a place where you find things to do and therefore you spend your days thinking. Well, I did not need that. Although, during the first 25 days, I had time to compute more numbers:

17: the number of months we have been waiting, so far .

512: Number of days we have been waiting.

70: the number of excited ducks who flew out of my pool to become the Happiest Parents in Town since we entered the pool.

4: the number of couples who attended the same adoption seminar as ours.

3: the number of couples who have adopted out of those four ( if you have passed Kindergarten math with flying colors, you know that there is one couple left:us)

8: number of friends and family members who, since January, have welcomed a baby that they conceived. Grand total: 4 adorable new princes and 4 adorable new princesses.

2: Number of potential weeks before we may know more about a potential match…

Now, the Counselor who is working with the first parent told DH that she is good at not making people wait if she feels that she has information. It means that as soon as she learns that the first parent plan is to raise her baby, she will let us know right away.

Don’t let me be alone in the house when the phone rings with such news. Actually, don’t even think about calling with such news. The 6 phones in our house are now designated to ring only if you have good news for us :).

Snapshot 28: I am back

2006-07-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

Here are a few reasons why I could have been silent for 3 weeks:

a- I sunk at the bottom of the pool again.

b- I got the Call and we are matched.

c- My camera was broken and I could not take snapshots anymore.

d- None of the above.

If you guessed d, you are right! The truth is that I fell. Don’t worry I did not hurt myself. I just fell in the arms of Summer, in the bliss of the sun rays, of the beautiful hikes in communion with Mother Nature, of days not being marked by a calendar or an agenda.

I have been doing things I really wanted to do but did not have the time to during the crazy-fast-paced school year. Nothing related to the adoption. I am sure it comes as a shock to you but, yeah, I have a life outside of the pool. Imagine that! I am not just a sitting duck.

So, have I just forgotten about adoption? Have I given up the hope of ever being chosen? It might happen but right now the hope is here to stay. Just like dessert. I keep saying that next week, I won’t have dessert anymore, because I see the damage in the unforgiving mirror. Yet, I keep eating dessert because it’s too good. Hope is too good to!

Every pore of my body is still aching for this would-be baby. Maybe I am not going what it takes to guide this baby to us? Sounds like a crazy thing to say? Well, read below to see what an acquaintance of mine suggested I should do to indeed guide this baby:

Sit quietly and collect yourself from wherever your energy is. Go into your heart and meditate. Be aware of your connection with the center of the earth, and with the top of the sky. And know that you – Pool Snapshots -- embody the connection of both matter (earth) and spirit (heaven).

Imagine your heart center. As you breathe in and out the energies of the earth and sky, picture your heart center growing until it fills the room. Keep breathing and allow your heart to fill your home. Your neighborhood. Keep getting bigger and bigger. The entire Pacific NW is surrounded by your heart. Go even bigger if you want.

Here's where it gets interesting. Your heart now encompasses the first parents. Become aware of the connection you have with them that is, for now, unmanifested. State your intention that this connection be made manifest in the time frame that is best for all concerned. Shower the first parents with love from your gigantic heart. Offer your gratitude and your service to them.

Hold this space for a while. Just let them know you are ready. Sit in their presence and breathe. Stay with your breath and in your heart.

Close by offering gratitude.

I am not great at meditation and I am not sure where my energy is right now ( I think I left it in the backyard after scooping what seems to be a thousand dirt filled shovels to level the ground- what? Not that kind of energy? See I am a lost case). I want to try though. I’ll keep you posted if I ever come back from the “space”.

Snapshot 27: Midway

2006-06-26T17:51:00.000-07:00

We have been swimming in the pool for 16 full months. We are starting month 17. I wish I could say that the Midway title refers to the fact that we reached the halfway mark towards a potential start to our family of three, or more... But no. The way we chose to build our family is not a predictable one. It is not one that comes with a specific timeline. It could be tomorrow, it could be in 3 years, it could be never.

So, I am trying to beat the system :). Because if you think that I am going to just cross my arms and wait, well, it’s not going to happen! I am in control here!

I can control my food intake (I have love handles to prove it), the number of hours I sleep (wait until I add a little one to our family and that control will go south!), and I can even control the number of times I exercise each week (somehow that number has fallen down a bit lately).

So, there should be no question that I will decide how this whole waiting thing goes. And yes we are Midway. We waited 16 months and we have 16 more to go. The wait will be over then. See, when the midnight bell rings in 16 months, we will either have started a family or we will walk aimlessly wondering what to do next.

Why 16 months? It is based on a totally arbitrary date that I set. It falls on DH’s birthday. DH never agreed about setting a deadline. He is going along with my idea that it is easier to do so, but he might decide to delay his birthday 16 months from now :).

Quite frankly, I feel that I have to set a deadline or one day, I’ll be buying baby diapers and extra large adult ones at the same time!

Snapshot 26: Brain for rent

2006-06-22T19:04:00.000-07:00

Please come see my brain. It has a fully functioning ability: it has it smarts moments, its dumb moments and its quite crazy emotional moments. It is not new, has logged in quite some miles but it remains pretty economical with a pretty low maintenance level ( this last statement might not reflect DH’s opinion!).

Nevertheless, during the 40 days wait, I have decided to take a vacation from my brain but I’ll give you premium access to it for this entire time-off. To request information on the price, please write to the Poolsnapshots; I will then tell you how much I am willing to pay you to take my brain for a while.

Anywho… Numbers always play a trick on me, and 40 is no exception. See for yourself
- 40; Number of days I need to wait before knowing more about the situation.
- 40; number of days it took Jesus to find peace in the desert
- 40; or quarantine; number of days you need to be put away to avoid contaminating other people.
- 40; number of days it took a team from the Netherlands to cross the Atlantic Ocean rowing.

They crossed a whole Ocean in 40 days? Then I can probably make it sitting on my pool lounge chair looking at the grass grow and sipping a cool lemonade.

Snapshot 25: Now we know

2006-06-21T19:02:00.000-07:00

DH called the other counselor. I don’t have long distance at work so he had to be the one calling. Poor guy. Not because he had to call but because he had a half hour session with me the evening before, so that I could make certain he was going to ask the right questions…. Hum, I wonder why he was getting slightly irritated after a while :). I knew I had already pushed the limits of his patience but I still had to ask, in a slightly patronizing voice: “Make sure you write down exactly what she says”. He decided that the best thing to do was just roll his eyes and sigh. Again, poor guy…

So he comes back home in the evening. I am trying to not jump on him right when his left foot makes it through the door. I can be patient you know. I waited for both feet to be through the door. “I guess you want to know” he says.

Now, what do we know: nothing very new really. We just know the same. The mother and the father of the baby have separated. They are still in good terms. They are looking at adoption while still exploring other options. They feel a strong connection to us through our profile. The mother is 5 ½ months pregnant and if there is any decision or contact made it will not be before the end of July.

Rational part of the brain: sounds like great people who are trying to make the best decision at the time they are at in their life. They seem to have a very strong head on their shoulder ( that, I get through more personal info that I am not sharing here). I understand that they need time to make sure that they will make the right decision. I feel that they could be great parents and I will feel good if it is the choice they ultimately make.

Emotional part of the brain: please don’t tease me. I cannot handle it. That is a totally different kind of wait. Very different. I am having visions of 4 months from now. I never had that before. I cannot set myself up for heartbreak but how can I avoid thinking about the possibilities. I am a bad, bad, bad person for thinking “Please, keep choosing us, we will be great”, but I cannot help it. And what if, and what if, and what if….

Shhhhh….

The sun is setting down on the pool. Summer made its grand entrance today. There is just a little breeze, gentle enough to break waves on the warm pool water. I breathe deeply. I need to enjoy the NOW, I really need to.

Only 40 days before we learn more. Still 40 nights.

Snapshot 24: Dear Poolsnapshots,

2006-06-19T22:02:00.000-07:00

The mail popped up. I did not want to open it. I waited to be at a time where I could hide in a corner if I needed to.

There, I did it. I opened it.

Dear Poolsnapshots,

Of course you have the right to wonder and it is understandable that you would want to know whether to put this to rest or continue to hope. I do not know what the situation is right now, so I will forward your email to the counselor who was working with the woman I talked to you about.

Have a good summer

Your counselor.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH! You are asking me to wait again. You are asking me to agonize in front of an unopened email again.
I guess I’ll have no choice. I’ll swim harder and I’ll go and pour myself alittle glass of my favorite wine. Now. Right now.

Dear Poolsnapshots (2)

Hello,

Your counselor told me to contact you about a woman I am working with and who requested your profile. I would love to talk with you at your convenience. I am off for a few days but I will be back in the office on --------- so please call me then and I’ll be happy to answer your questions.

The other counselor

Let’s see: “a woman I am working with.” Sounds like present tense to me. Must mean she is still working with her right?

Now: “who requested your profile”. She did not say who “had” requested your profile so technically it could mean that she is still considering us.

Oh the mind games. I know I should stop doing this and just wait to call the counselor. That’s what I’ll do. Whoa, can you feel the control here. Impressive.

Snapshot 23: Dear Counselor,

2006-06-18T17:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Counselor,

You may imagine that your May 14 phone call did plant a little seed in my brain. It has even begun making roots and before it sprouts and gets out of control :), I wanted to ask you something: Could you please tell me if the French woman is still thinking about placing her child?

I hope you understand that I cannot really let go of such an information, unless you were to remove parts of my brain …
I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

The Poolsnapshots.

There I sent it. True, I could have fantasized a little bit longer about the situation and asking nothing would probably have been easier. Now though, my ( small) experience as a gardener tells me that to get to the roots of a weed, you’d better not wait too long. On the other hand, if you are growing hope, you need to nurture those roots before the sprouting begins. See, I had no choice but to ask.

And here I am, in for another waiting game. I am going to be watching that mail pop up on my computer screen.

Snapshot 22: Entrusting

2006-06-13T20:55:00.000-07:00

There are many milestones in the open adoption process. Every step you take is seen as the biggest at the time. Do you think that if you make it through the next step, whatever it may be, the rest will be much easier? If you think “YES”, I must regretfully tell you that you are mistaken.

Let’s see:
You have been writing down letters, compiling mountains of paperwork, finally your home study is ready and somebody has decided that despite the spiders in your living room you could well be a parent one day. You breathe a sigh of relief. Don’t. You are jumping into a pool, germ free yes, but still a pool where no cute and muscular lifeguard is ready to hand you his arm to get you quickly out.

No. You have to wait. No milestone in site but you’d better be like the Energizer Bunny because you are going to be waiting and waiting and waiting…

So, as I am lamenting on the lame status of my lack of progress, a discussion arises in the pool. Counselor/mediators are helping us see further than the tip of our nose and they are throwing the “What if you are chosen? Then what?” at us.

As the discussion goes further into the details, up to the entrustment ceremony, my stomach is furiously making double knots, my throat tightens and I nearly want to back paddle as furiously as my stomach is making knots.

Of course I had thought about the emotions that would come with being trusted to care for a little human being but never, never had I put myself in the hospital.

The image had always been a blur, some distant point to focus on, at some point.
A couple or a woman would be placing their baby in my arm. I will then leave the room. Somebody behind the door will be devastated.
The double knot in my stomach had now blown to a triple twist.

How could I have looked at this from such a far distance, knowing full well what emotions would be associated, but still deciding to deal with it when the moment would come?

I know. I probably would have backed out at the time. But now, I don’t know what to do to untie the triple twist. What will make me feel that my leaving with the baby will ever be ok? How can I walk guilt free out of the room? How can I look at this incredible new life and tell this baby: “Look, I am your mommy”?

It is going to be hard. Oh so hard. But it will never be as hard as it will be for the first parents of the baby. And it will be my job to let the baby know about that.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am off to the store: I need to stack up on Pepto-Bismol and Tums.

Snapshot 21: A Call

2006-06-12T19:54:00.000-07:00

It was not The Call but A Call as my brother said. It was certainly a beautiful call and it filled my heart with a lot of emotions.

Just a few days ago, across the Atlantic Ocean, in a small village in the Alps, a little princess first opened her eyes to the big World. My little brother the dad, his wife, and the two little princes, her brothers, bathed all day in the glow of the little princess.

They were in awe. They gave her hugs and kisses; they called North, East, West and South to tell about the wonderful fairy tale that had just begun.

In a matter of hours, the World Wide Web had delivered still images of the princess. Through 10 000 kms of wires or wireless, the images transmitted the raw emotion and fullness of the day. It connected me to wave of love that was rising.

It was a beautiful day. Welcome to the World little princess…

Snapshot 20: The contract

2006-06-07T18:26:00.000-07:00

I was lazily lounging on my favorite flotation device in the pool, counting days before summer, knowing that it would mark the beginning of my two months break; I was even thinking how my whole spirit and body would finally be able to relax and be ready to welcome a little one home, when I heard the familiar “You’ve got mail”.

It came in the form of a large envelope with the name of the agency at the top. For some reason, my heart skipped a bit. Yes, I know that the call is not going to come in the form of a paper announcement with a cheery “Just to let you know that you’d better be home tomorrow if you do not want to miss the chance to receive The Call!”. But I guess that just the name of the agency is enough to trigger weird feelings. I think I will need years of therapy to repair the damage J.

Anyhow… The big white envelope was our contract. The new and improve contract to be signed if we wanted to still stay in the pool, be part of the club!

You can well imagine that the major changes had not much to do with the process and our acceptance of it. The changes were pretty much money related.

As usual, my bipolar personality took over. Relax. I am not talking about bipolar in the medical term of course, but in the basic definition: having two opposite or contradictory natures, one being my emotional brain and the other one being my rational brain.

Rational brain: People in our agency work really hard and they deserve to also have a decent salary. They meet, talk to and counsel nearly 300 mothers every year and less than a ¼ of them decide to place their child. The mediation works way past the adoption and I feel that the follow up with first parent is also very good. Rational brain conclusion: the raise in price is fair.

Emotional brain: Why do I need to be reminded that this is a transaction? Why do I need to feel that not only can I not conceive naturally, but that there is a price to pay for that? Don’t you think that I have paid the price already? I need to keep paying more because nobody chooses me? The longer you wait the more expensive it gets? What kind of cruel punishment is that?

As you can see, the rational brain states opinions. Based on the number of question marks, you can see that the emotional brain spends a lot of time questioning everything.

At the end, with a DH being pretty much monopolar ( that’s pretty much an oxymoron, but I made it up so what can you expect), the rational brain seems to always be the winning contestant in our household.

Now, here is a chance to make the emotional brain happy: the new prices take effect on July 1. That’s 3 weeks from now. Come on, that is way enough time to call me with good news. After all, in the past 15 months that I have been in the pool, 66 couples entered the World of adoption and became parent. That’s about one couple per week. Why don’t I take the next week and we call it good?

Snapshot 19: A twist on the wait

2006-06-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, after learning that our profile had been chosen but it-was-too–early-for-contact-and-the-woman-who-was-pregnant-
might-change-her-mind-and-yes- she-liked-us-but-could-choose-to-parent ( breathe here), I wrote that the wait was going to be more bearable. Yep, I wrote it: BEARABLE.

Why did I believe that at the time? I guess hope makes you blind and deaf to any emotions coming your way.
Since writing that word, I have been in for quite a surprising ride.
Nope, it is NOT more bearable. It is worse.

By now, you know that I love analogies, so I’ll give you this little one to chew on, just so that you get a feel for what I am going through.

Imagine a very hot day. You went out for a hike. It’s getting even hotter. You did not know that the hike was going to be so long and you did not bring any water. There is no water along the way as you are down in a deep canyon where water deserted the area for quite a long time. So, you walk. You do not worry about the water. You are not a camel but you can endure a little thirst.

You try to think about other things. You refuse to let the thirst prevent you from enjoying the hike, yet it is in the back of your mind all the time.

You have now been on your hike for what seems to have been an eternity. Suddenly, you feel a drop of water on your bear arm. You look up. There, just above you, a small cloud is slowly emptying, one droplet at a time. You open your mouth, wide, trying to catch as many drops as you can. The feeling is indescribable: someone lifted tons off your shoulders. When the drops stop, you feel like you can hike forever again.

At least you thought you could. But now, the idea that the little cloud could be somewhere not too far is making your progress very slow.

You keep trying to go back to the taste, back to the feeling that the droplets gave you. That’s when the thirst finally becomes unbearable.

I want my cloud back. Now.

Glossary:
- thirst –> wait for the call
- hike -> life goes on
- water -> a call
- cloud & droplets -> the call that left me hanging

Snapshot 18: What's with the name?

2006-06-04T18:29:00.001-07:00

It’s beginning to feel like summer in the pool. I don’t have to wear the wet suit anymore. Plus, it is crowed. I can barely move. 5 new couples in. Welcome to all but please don’t block the stairs; I need to make an exit. Soon. What? I am not going out? But what about the 4 other couples leaving? Oh, they have been chosen to take care of 2 baby boys and 2 baby girls.

But, what about the 4 other ones next to the stairs? They what? Got the call?

Great, by the end of June THEY will also get out.

Never mind. I’ll sit on the stairs from now on. You’ll have to trample me to get out and you’ll feel so sorry that you will let me go too, right?

Based on the latest rumors, it looks like I might not be chosen for who I am.

If you read prior snapshots, you know by now that I am French. What you don’t know is that my first name, although pretty and common in my native country, is a man’s name here in the States. You cannot imagine how many times I have been asked if I was using my husband’s credit card, or how often when I show up for an appointment people are surprised to see a woman. There was one woman, who, even after learning that I was French, told me: “Honey, what the heck were your parents thinking when they gave you that name?”

Anyway, lately, I was told that maybe my name was a reason why we were not being chosen. Great, it was not enough that French might be an issue, now it’s my name!

Now, whether it is on the agency’s website or in the book, my name and my husband’s name come attached to a picture. I can tell you that whenever I look at sites with waiting parents, I never look at the name. My eyes go directly to the faces. And, I also believe that my face would hardly be mistaken for that of a man.

Nevertheless, the seed as been planted and now I am wondering, however absurd it may sound, if people have been double checking face-name and dismissing us for that reason?

At the same time, knowing that a ¼ of the adoptions happening in our agency are with gay and lesbian couples, I do not see how my name being mistaken could be a problem.

AAARRRRGHHH… Can I just be ME? Or do I have to frame myself to look the part?

To be or not to be, that is the question.

Snapshot 17: You know...

2006-05-30T21:19:00.001-07:00

You know that you have been waiting a long time in the pool when…

Well there are plenty of possibilities but this one hit me hard today:

I found myself typing the address of my agency’s website to, you know, check who is still in, who is out. Promise, I don’t do that often. Maybe once. A day.

Anyway, after seeing my face still on the top 12 ( not quite a reason for celebration unless you are on American Idol), I scrolled down, way down ( boy it’s getting really crowded in here).

Hey, there is a new couple. Look at that, they have this little one sitting with them and they are all smiling their best smile and… wait. Those guys look familiar! What’s their name again? Sounds familiar.

I minimize the window, click on my adoption-data file and… What? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that I must have been a data collector in my other life. I love gathering information: I color code, I organize, I rearrange. Well, for example, if there is a blue square next to your name, it means you jumped in the pool after me. If your name is highlighted in yellow, good news, you are now parenting! Now if you have a blue square AND you are highlighted in yellow, sure that’s great for you; but shouldn’t blue squares wait to warm up a bit, turn red while they let the colorless square ( me) get some yellow too?

Well I guess I digress here. So back to the data file. Yep, here they are. I remember now. Just as we were jumping in the pool they were flapping around it, totally excited: they had been picked. Their baby is now 15 months old and yes, they are jumping back, in the pool, where I have been waiting 15 months. They are jumping back for baby number 2.

What has happened for me in the past 15 months? I have been waiting.

Sigh.

Snapshot 16: Numbers

2006-05-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

Today, we are beginning month 16 of the wait in the pool.
We have been waiting for 455 days: 400+ 50+ 5… Four hundred and fifty five.

I like round numbers. So what about 500 days and we call it good?
Nope, that would mean 17 months of wait, which is an odd number.
I do not like odd numbers.

So what about 600 days then? That’s a round number.
The grand total of months would be 20. You get it, that’s an even number.
The month would be the 10^th of the year. Even number again
I say that this sounds good, very good.

Delirium, delirium…

Snapshot 15: Was this another Call?

2006-05-22T19:02:00.000-07:00

It was still May 14. It was still Mother’s day. It was about 3:30pm. DH and I were writing down the pros and cons of all that was involved in the situation from the first call. It was not just about welcoming this little baby in our home. It was about taking risks. It was about going outside our comfort zone. It was about….

The phone rang. Again.
The name of our counselor popped up on the little screen. It was a Sunday, and she was calling us, again.

On her quest to find families who wanted to have their profile shown to the waiting mother, she talked to another counselor and their conversation went something like this:
- Did you ask the Pool Snapshots people?
- Yes, I just called them.
- Well, I don’t know what you should do with this information but here it is: I am working with a young woman and she has chosen their profile. She has chosen them only. She really likes them. She is due in October. And, oh, she is French.

Here is how the communication went on with our counselor:
- So, we would never give you this information this early, but because you have another decision to make, I thought I had to share this.
- Oh my God, oh my God!
- Please don’t base your decision on this. This is a young woman who is very capable of parenting and she can definitely change her mind.
- Sure….Yes… No… Well….Oh my God, I am getting a gut feeling. I am getting chills.
- Again remember I was not supposed to…
- Yes, yes, no I understand, no we will not base our decision on this information, we won’t.

What? We are not going to base our decision on this? Who am I kidding? Of course we are. The first time ever in 15 months that somebody likes us in two dimensions and chooses us! Somebody French! How crazy is that?

Yes, she can change her mind. But if she changes her mind, it means that she decides to parent and I would only feel good about that.

So, whether or not it happens, it helped us realize that this is more the kind of phone call we are waiting for and that, yes, we could be chosen.

It was still a difficult decision, but it was little easier to say no to the first situation. It was heartbreaking to think about the little baby boy already born but I know that another family probably felt comfortable with the issues and that he is already loved and cherished like he should be.

The second call gave me hope. I needed it badly. I jumped back into the pool, splashed around with excitement for a while… It was hard to calm down, hard to think that I would have to probably wait another 2 to 3 months before hearing any news, hard to think that it could not happen. In the meantime though, the wait was going to be more bearable and for that, I am very thankful…

Snapshot 14: Was this A Call?

2006-05-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

It was very refreshing to be in the pool on May 14. The sun had decided to extend its warm rays all the way to our yard. Our skins were hot and little beads of perspiration rolled down my forehead as I removed weeds and planted beautiful perennials and annuals. A little dip in the pool after that was quite welcomed.

I actually did not intend to think about the pool on that day. After all, it was Mother’s day. There was no need to make myself want to drown again.

It was 3:00pm. As the cold water was going down my throat and a little breeze was cooling me down, the phone rang. The name of our counselor popped up on the little screen. It was a Sunday, and she was calling us.

They are so used to getting people’s heartbeat racing, that before even finishing her “hello”, she right away said: “This is a screening call”. The baby was already born, there were a plethora of concerns coming with the situation, but would we want our profile shown to the mother? The time line was: make a decision now, your profile will be shown Monday, the placement will happen on Wednesday.

We listened to all the info, took notes, asked questions and hung up the phone.
We began researching the Internet for some of the health issue mentioned.
We tried to put in words the turmoil that was going inside us.
We listened to each other carefully; or rather DH was watching my every move carefully. He knows how much I want to start our family and he made a conscientious effort to listen to what I say before stating his own conclusions.

There is a baby, a little baby boy, a little human being who is caught in between two Worlds: his mother’s, whose numerous struggle do not enable her to raise him, and adoptive parents who struggle to accept a difficult situation.

Snapshot 13: On adoption and being French...

2006-05-15T21:44:00.000-07:00

I am proud of my roots. I am proud to have one day made the decision to cross the ocean to embrace another culture, another language and another way of life. I have learned so much about others, about prejudice and about acceptance. As an educator, I know that learning to respect others, however different they might be from us, is always a work in progress. What you do at school is sometimes undone at home by simple, cruel comments.

So yes, I am aware that my naïve “peace and love” vision of the World is far from being achieved. And yes, I am aware that we all fall victim to the ideas of others and we forget that we don’t need others to think for us.

Nevertheless, it came as quite a surprise when French people were suddenly seen as the evil for not going to war. The mean messages, the ugly comments were really a slap in my face. I just could not believe how fast people went from not being really aware of French people to despise any one of them or any word related to French.

I could fill pages about this, but the purpose of this blog is not to have political debates but to talk about adoption.

When we entered the pool, it crossed my mind that we might not be chosen because I am French. Then time went by. I, even, forgot about it.

A few days ago, a person I had not seen in a long while asked me about the wait. After listening to my usual spiel, he asked a simple question: “Do you think that you are not chosen because you are French?”

And right then I thought: That’s it. The anti-French sentiment is still strong out there and I don’t even realize it.

It would sadden me to no end to know that our profile might not be considered because of the name of the ground I was born on. Sad yes, but there would be nothing I could do about it.

Snapshot 12: Act of unselfishness

2006-05-09T20:38:00.000-07:00

There are many people I enjoy spending time with. There are many people I admire from afar. There are many people I can count on. There are a few people that rise to the status of friend. This is such a friend who, a month ago, made me a very unselfish offer.

C. had been wanting to be a mother for a long time. After jumping through loops, struggling through obstacles and trying again and again, the world just stopped turning when the little stick showed a + sign. After a rocky start, she enjoyed every minute, every little second this human form was being created inside her. She had a wonderful connection to the baby to be. She radiated. It was months ago that the dream became real for all of us around, as we saw her beautiful daughter emerge and join the bright light of the outside world. The mother-daughter bond was so beautiful to witness.

C. had been wishing so hard for me to also be able to be a parent, she had followed me through my own struggles, was one of my cheerleaders from the side of the pool.

One day, as she was sitting next to the pool, she saw it. She saw me flap my arms, saw me try to remain at the surface, saw me trying to be strong in front of one of my favorite cheerleader. She saw somebody who had lost hope, just for a little while. She just could not bear it, she just could not watch this and do nothing. This joy that she had felt and was feeling, she wanted me to experience it, now.

When she called the next day, she was nearly apologetic, telling me that she did not even know how to begin what she was going to tell me.

She had talked to her husband. There were already children from a previous relationship and they felt that they would probably not have another child.

But, because they felt that it was such a magical experience, they wanted to offer to carry a child FOR US, to even mold and create one for us…

The enormity of what she was saying was just so astounding, shocking, amazing and beyond belief that for a while I just could not think straight.

The most amazing was that she really meant it, you know. It was not chitchat, in passing. No. This was something that she had already discussed at home!

Right away, I knew I couldn’t. I could not ask her to do that for me. I could not put her health in jeopardy. I would feel so guilty that I just would not be able to see the baby as mine. Never. I would not want to cause her any pain and, despite what she was saying, she would feel a loss.

I also knew that if we had chosen the path of adoption, it was because we felt strongly that if nature was not letting us create, we will not push the limits of wanting to have child created for us, through egg and sperm donor or through surrogacy.

It was an overwhelming moment. A truly unselfish gift…

Later on, my reaction did surprise me and made me wonder how I can view adoption differently than I did this situation. After all, the first mother will also carry a child that we will raise, she will feel a loss and I will feel guilt in gaining from the loss of somebody.

Is it ok to say though, that the intent from the first mother of my future child is not to carry a child for us? Because in truth, it is not. It might seem like that along the way. But, until a mother relinquishes her rights, she carries the baby for her.

So yes, I will feel all the emotions mentioned above, but the baby would emerge to the bright lights of the outside world with or without me being involved. I will not have placed an order. I will just be there if a little life needs a space to grow.

Snapshot 11: On what people say...

2006-05-08T18:04:00.000-07:00

Even if you choose to not involve too many people in your story, you can be sure that mouth-to-mouth sharing of secretive info will do a good job at spreading the fact that you want to adopt.

Now let’s explore the “people-who-know” categories, and there is quite a variety.

Category 1 = They know you are waiting, not directly, but they know. They will never dare ask you about it though.

Category 2 = They know you are waiting, they timidly approach you and ask, nearly apologetically “So, you are going to adopt?”. They are usually satisfied with the “Yes” answer, not quite sure if they should push their luck and try to get more info.

Category 3 = They know you are waiting, ask you about it and usually have preconceived ideas of what process you have chosen. Their first question is often: “So which country are you adopting from?”

Category 4 = They know you are waiting, they have already gotten the whole spiel on Open Adoption during an earlier encounter, they know that there are no list, no climbing up the ladder. Each time they see you, they ask if your file is getting closer to the top. You, again, remind them, nicely, how the process works. After listening to you, they ask “But, do you have a little idea when it could happen?”

Category 5 = They just learned that you are waiting, they begin asking you about it, they listen to half of your spiel before interrupting you and then, they share THE information that you have never heard about before: “You know, you will probably be pregnant soon, it works for so many people”. Me: “Well, we really like the idea of adoption.” Them: “Just wait, you’ll see. Soon you’ll tell me about morning sickness”. Me: “But…”. Them: “You’ll see”.

What I don’t tell them, because, hey, there are still some boundaries to respect here, is that I pretty much know that it would take more than a miracle for that to happen. My DH’s little guys have lost the instruction on how to swim, and most of them drown before even attacking the big hill. Well, if they make it to the other side, the other half of the mechanism has spent too much time in the sun and has quite shriveled up. So no, we tried, many, many times. This will not work. Even if you are a well-wisher, even if you know it all.

Category 6 = They know you are waiting. They are your cheerleaders. They guard the side of the pool, they will not let you drown. They are positive, always. They know it will happen. Can you hear their heartwarming cheers?

Even if after more than 14 months, I am feeling like I am delivering the same spiel over and over again about Open Adoption, I willingly and gladly do it. I feel that it also educates people. They all react differently. They all have different views on it. That is Ok. I am not trying to convince them that it’s the only type of adoption to ever be considered. It’s what we chose.

Sometimes, I would like people to feel really comfortable with the subject. Adoption is not a disease, you should not be afraid to talk about it, ask about it and wonder about it.

It takes a village to raise a child. I am just part of that village. I am expecting a child to join our home.

Snapshot 10: Going to the market

2006-04-29T18:44:00.001-07:00

Warning: this topic could cause people to wonder if too many months in the water have really made my brain shriveled. Be assured or horrified, it’s my conscious part of the brain talking here, the metaphorical part of it, that is.

Before entering the pool and while either floating or dog paddling in it, decisions had to be made as to what parameters we would choose for the baby to be. Thus the title: going to the market.

“Ma’am, what will it be today? I have a full term baby here, grown in pure cocaine for the past 9 months. What do you say?

Now, what about this one, fertilized with methamphetamine for the past 3 months!

This one? Yeah, a little shriveled up, cause of the downpour of alcohol when it was growing, but if you nurture it right, should be as good as any.

Look at the little one here! Yes, it’s a little grey all right, but that’s because it was a little polluted by a smoking chain factory.

What’s that you ask? Anything organic? Sure Ma’am, there they are. Healthy little things! Although they sometimes have weird abnormalities. But who doesn’t right!”

“One last question Sir. See except for the organic ones, and the ones with some physical abnormalities, I am kind of worried, not sure, scared like hell about the others. What happens to them if everybody thinks like me?”

“Ma’am, we find them a good home, don’t you worry. Yeah, plenty of people out there ready to give it a try, say, people with guts and plenty of love to pass around!”

I have love to pass around. I do. I just don’t have the guts. I guess that’s why I am still swimming…

Snapshot 9: Phones.

2006-04-24T20:25:00.000-07:00

My relationship with phones has always been a challenge. I am a people person. I need to see you when I talk to you. I need to see the trickle of emotion, interest or boredom in your eyes. Body language is a big deal to me.

Anyway, it’s hard to pack all those things in a phone. Although, mine is somehow cute, shinny and slick, makes a variety of noises and lights up with bright orange and red colors.

“My” phone… well, it’s actually 6 phones, strategically positioned in the house. Sick isn’t it? With all the swimming I do all day, I don’t want to be running after any phone when the evening comes. I’ll walk you through:
-one in the garage ( well, yeah, we do quite a number of projects in there),
-one in the kitchen ( we love to cook- and eat…),
-one in my office and one in DH’s office ( we do work for a living as surprising as this may sound!),
-one in the TV room ( who wants to get up and run for the phone when in the middle of watching a movie; never mind that pause button, we need a phone there).
-one in our bedroom ( do I really have to explain this one?)

So, during this waiting mode period, I have come to hate those six phones and I have come to hate the blinking answering machine that seems to answer most of the incoming calls.
And, here are a few tips for you out there trying to call:
-Don’t even try to block who you are so that my caller ID shows you as “unknown”.
-Don’t even try to call past 10:00pm.
-Don’t even try to call before 7:00am.
-Don’t make it ring and then hung up just as I am saying “Allô”.
-Don’t leave a message if the only thing you have to say is “I will call you back”.

Because every time the phone rings, my heart is making a 360 loop and hardly has the time to reposition itself before I breathlessly answer. Yes, my reflexes can be conditioned by external stimuli. Although I do not reflexively salivate upon hearing the bell, I have acquired this acute sensitivity to phones: if it rings, it has to be The Call. If the machine is blinking, it has to be The Call. No matter that it has been 14 months and over 1000 calls later, no matter if I try to shut down the little voice of reason: it is IT. Sir Ian Pavlov would no doubt have paraded me around the World as a perfect example of his theory.

Because of all this I have resisted buying a cell-phone. I am on the verge of insanity already; those little boogers would definitely push me over the edge!

Oh, wait I just got a call… It’s flashing, it’s singing to me, it’s … the intercom. DH is calling me from the kitchen. Dinner is ready. One more I need to add on the list of “Please stop doing that”.

Snapshot 8: The rescue

2006-04-23T18:24:00.000-07:00

It is hard to imagine that almost two weeks have passed since I last took the time to take a snapshot of the place. I touched the bottom of the pool. That’s where I was…

It was very sudden. I was swimming at the surface, enjoying the birds who began chirping, looking at the big fat buds finally exploding into an infinity of little leaves. It was Spring again. It was time to celebrate life. But, suddenly, my arms stopped moving, my legs were as heavy as lead. I was going down. It was Spring again, and I was still in the pool, still not near enough to the sound of a giggling child calling me “Maman”. My alter-ego, the one that is much more reasonable than me, tried to reason with me, tried to put springs back into my legs so that I could kick back and breath at the surface. I found enough force to kick my alter-ego away so as to remain miserable at the bottom of the pool.

I told you before that I bite when I am sitting at the bottom. My DH sure got a taste of that. It did not scare him away though. No. He stayed close, got bitten a few more times, but still stayed put.

The rescue came in the form of a Spring break time from work. Spring break, right! Spring breakdown in this case.

I regrouped, felt the sun on my skin again, got my legs moving, my arms and pretty soon I was back.

Right now, I do not go far from the edge, I still feel fragile, but I dare hope again. Hope that only good stories will come out of this wait, that the now 14 months that were, will just be a blur when I get The Call.

Snapshot 7: Numbers

2006-04-11T22:12:00.001-07:00

Seven – 7 - That’s the number of snapshots I have shared so far. It’s also the number of couples who jumped out of the pool this past month.

Look at them all nervous, giggly, on top of the world. They made it to the status of “Most Wanted Parents”. They have officially been declared parents!

As long as we are talking about numbers, here is a list:

- 5 … the number of years since we started working on bringing a child in our life.

- 412… the number of days we have been in the pool.

- 59… the number of couples who left the pool in the last 412 days. That’s an average of 1 every 7 days!

- 850… the number of times the phone rang and it was NOT The Call.

- 603… the number of chocolate truffles I ate in the past 14 months. About 10 truffles each time a couple left the pool. Hey, they don’t call it comfort food for nothing!

- 6… I am sure you thought it was going to be the number of pounds added to my weight after that chocolate, but, no. That’s my numerology number, whatever it means!

- 300… number of miles per hour my heart will be racing when I get The call.

Snapshot 6: Time Line

2006-04-09T18:24:00.000-07:00

The word you become very familiar with, when in the pool, is a 4-letter word: A word that brings a huge range of emotion with it = WAIT.

Now, I’ll walk you through our wait time line, and see how my AC (adoption clock) is following it’s own beat.

- On day one in the pool, I had not even thought about time. I knew that we were going to be chosen.

- On month 6, I flew to my native France, knowing that I would get the call when I was there.

- On month 9, well, yeap, it's symbolic enough that, of course it would happen then.

- On month 10, a wrinkle re-appeared on my forehead ( all that pool water had done wonders on smoothing my skin!) and the concept that time was elastic seemed to suddenly begin to make sense. The problem is that I seemed to have picked an elastic that is forever expanding.

- On month 12, the ticking became a little like the dripping faucet: it was soothing at time and totally annoying at others. Something had to be done.

- On month 13, it became obvious that this wait was like a boomerang: every time you tried to not think about it, it hit you back in the face. And boy, if you have ever received a boomerang in the head, it hurts!

That's when I began wondering if it was healthy to not give ourselves some sort of time frame. A time line so that at some point I could make decisions about my life, my work, my travels without having the little voice saying "yes, but what if you get the call". So, that's it. We chose to add a maximum of 24 months to the already long 13.

So, you'll see my webbed feet for still quite a while. Now, don't even try to talk
to me when I am sitting at the bottom of the pool: I bite.
I am much nicer when I swim at the surface...

Snapshot 5: Another pool

2006-03-29T18:11:00.000-08:00

It gets to be pretty boring when you stay in the same pool all that time. I have seen 42 people jump out of the water, barely taking the time to dry off, leaving their sunscreen, hats, towels around and fleeing the place without even a glance back. Yeap, they had gotten the call.

So, the other day, when a colleague of mine told me she was also on the road to adoption and that she wanted me to check out her pool, I said, sure, why not.

Well, I was in for a big surprise. On the door leading to the pool, there was a sign: We are looking for new members to help make our pool a little livelier.

Well, I sure knew where to get plenty more. I guess if it was going to help get my pack-to-the-limit pool, down to a more reasonable group, I would hand out pamphlet if I had to.

So I tiptoed inside, seeing three couples floating on the edge of the water. Where were the other ones? I turned to my colleague. Guess what? they were all there! 3 couples! Hey, we have over 60 in our darn rectangle of water! What is going on here? I peeked at their feet: no webbed feet yet. They must not have been waiting long enough.

Anyway, says my colleague, they really need new members, and I guess that you already know how to swim?

Yes, sure… wait a minute! I have never seen a pool where membership was free. What? If I want to join I might have to redo all the paperwork and pay an extra load of money?

Well, do you think that after sitting in the pool for 13 months I have money coming out of my ears? Not a very lucrative position to be in. No siry.

Oh, and let me tell DH about all that. I am sure he’d love to scrape even more of our savings just so that we can have memberships in both pools.

Since I came back to my pool, I have been doing lapses none stop. The half rational brain (that I had when I visited the other pool) is now totally gone and I think that I am going to begin a pretty big tantrum if I don’t get to also join the other pool. What do you think? Is it crazy? Should I just be patient in my pool ( allow me to laugh here)? Am I never going to parent because I refuse to deplete my retirement account? Or am I never going to retire because I depleted that account?

Swim, swim, swim…

Snapshot 4: Shrinking brain

2006-03-27T19:41:00.001-08:00

-The danger of the shrinking brain-
The wait in the water gets to you. The world around you becomes smaller and your already pretty shriveled up brain shrinks even more. It becomes overloaded with the feelings that you have to be given the chance to parent and you have to be chosen. It reminds you daily about what you stepped into. It does not let you cross the hallway of your house without making you look at the blinking light on the answering machine. And there is danger in that.

Some days, I really feel lucky to have waited so long. I grew. Emotionally, mentally. I was given the time to fill my brain with more information about adoption, first mothers, openness, laws, rights. I was given the chance to read how much work I will have to put in the openness of the adoption if I want it to be a positive experience for all. I also began to understand that I could be “not chosen”, because circumstances around the choice are so vague and so intrinsically linked to a gut feeling from first parents.

Julie, in your comment you say, it rightly so: there has to be something that clicks. This adoption forum thread from first parents and adoptive parents gives a good perspective on the “choosing” process.

So, yes, sometimes the pool water is cold, sometimes I am tired of the swimming, but I have not wasted my time. I have learned. Every day.

Snapshot 3: Life in the pool

2006-03-26T14:53:00.000-08:00

Life in the pool has been pretty busy lately, and I am beginning to feel pretty crammed in there. I mean, yes, membership is open to all, but come on people, give me a chance to get out before trying out the water yourself.

If you ask me, I’d like every body to get out right this minute to give me a chance to swim alone in there.

That is not going to happen anytime soon.

Now, tell me, why do all the other pool members have to sound so good? Why do I feel like I would choose any of them in a heartbeat?

I have actually played this little game - yeap, you become pretty creative when you are bored in that water- and hum, I imagine that me referring to this as a “little game” could probably anger first parents out there; so, for the record, this is not meant to give less importance to this incredible process, it’s just my way of letting some steam escape in the shallow waters I am in - Anyway, the game. I imagine that I have to choose one pool member. They come in many shapes, size and beliefs, they are single, heterosexual or same sex couples and they all have some much love to give to a child. So, in my book, they are all OK. The last time I played the game, I narrowed it down to 10. And then, it became so hard to narrow down even more. I felt I would have had to meet all of them to really get the feeling that they were the right people at the right time.

The “game” helped me realize how hard it must be to be doing it for real. To really have to find, deep down in your guts, something that will connect you forever with another family when you are at a high-emotion time in your life.

So the question is still: what is it that DH and I have, that will get a first parent to look at us and say: that’s it! Based on the past 13 months in the pool, it is very apparent that we have not had that effect on anybody… yet…

The pool manager did tell us that we were selected 3 times. I nearly swallowed the whole pool water when she said that and it took me quite a while to come back to the surface with, of course, conflicting theories in my head:

- Number 1 = somebody out there felt that we were worth at least a second look, that there was reason to believe that we could click. So hurrah, that’s great news.

- Number 2 = What do you mean 3 times? The appeal of our letter was strong enough but the content of our life was so scary that we were not parent-worthy material?

- Number 3= 3 times? That’s it? In 12 months we were selected a mere three times? That’s it; I am running to the store to get a new swimsuit. All that bleach water must have taken the colors away from the other one and it must be the reason why it’s only 3 times.

Now, new members who dare jump in with me, watch out, because I have found the I-will-be-the-best-parent-in-the-world-so-choose-me swimsuit, and it rocks!

Snapshot 2: Bloggomania

2006-03-18T17:08:00.000-08:00

Now that you have pictured me in the pool, let me add more to the scene. Imagine me wadding through the pool, my wireless laptop perched on a floating device, a glass of wine, margarita, lemon drop, or, hum, water (depending on the mood). And what do I do? Something very appropriate when you are stuck in a pool: I surf. I surf the multicolored waves of the Internet, the endless rolling sending me to so many places that I get a little dizzy.

In truth, what I came to look for during my daily screen staring is comfort. How to stay sane while my AC is ticking? [ My AC is my Adoption Clock. Anybody out there with other creative names? I also have ABC, Adopting Baby Clock.]
The first month on AC, I swore I needed nobody, I would be fine, I would sail through the water like a pro and not even find myself uncomfortable at times.
As the month changed into more months, which in turn changed into a year, I began drowning. My DH, as usual, was paddling at the surface, not a wrinkle on his forehead, not a worry in the world.

That’s when bloggomania began ( I wonder why my spell check doesn’t want to take this one? Shouldn’t it be already entered in worldwide dictionaries?).
After a few weeks, I began breathing again, the pool didn’t suffocate me anymore and I began learning a lot… a lot more than I wanted to sometimes.
It convinced me that open adoption was the only choice for me and at the same time I felt slapped in the face by the information that I kept on reading.

So first, thank you to all of you writers of blogs out there. You unknowingly have been my support group for a while now and it has been very inspiring to read your testimonies or just your daily happenings with life. I’ll try to link all of you on this blog but you already don’t all fit on my Live Bookmarks toolbar.

The first special thanks go to mothers who have placed their child for adoption. It affected me quite a bit to read of your pain, your sorrow, but mainly it scared me to read about your sense that most of the time it should not have happened.
I must first say here that, from my best friend to my colleagues at work, people are ready to build a statue of naivety in my name, under which they will write: she believed in peace and love and equal opportunities for all.

So, yes, I was shocked to read in all your stories that lies and deceits had been part of your “adoption story”. I was shocked to read that waiting parents out there were ready to do anything to make you believe that they were on the same page as you when openness was concerned, when in truth, they just wanted to shut you down as soon as they had their baby.
My double use of the word “shocked” shows you how naïve I am, and probably makes you wonder where I have been all these years. Well, I was probably teaching my students, kids who have what a lot of what adults are missing: a sense of spontaneity and honesty.

In my previous post, I mentioned “willingly placing” and “first mothers”. That’s because I am hearing you, first mothers, and I cannot agree more that it is what you are. To me, even the term birthparent does not undermine your role. As for the “willingly”, I am hoping really hard that my trumpeting emotions when I will be so close to parent myself, will let me hear the first mother, and will let me feel if she is, or not, placing her child willingly.
Thank you again…

Time to refill my glass and move on to another subject while my webbed feet are holding me firmly in the pool.

PS: For those of you who have majors in English literature, I apologize for the style which at time, probably has a flair of literal translation from my native language.

Snapshot 1: Adoption Pool

2006-03-15T17:43:00.000-08:00

Fourteen months ago, it is with great anticipation that I entered the pool. I did not try the water with my toes first; I did not sprinkle some water on my neck. No. I just jumped in the pool, a big grin on my face. The water was warm and it was a bit crowded but I did not mind. It was winter 2005 and I began floating, face up, waiting for somebody to pull me out of there. I knew it would come soon and I let the water fill my ears. The gentle waves that others created popped the water in and out of my ears and I began hearing words here and there: “It’s going to happen”, “We have been waiting so long”, “The pool is too crowded”, “What is wrong with us”.

To better understand this story, we need to get a definition of the word “Pool”, and there are many.
Is the pool I am referring to:
1. A small body of still water. -> I maintain that the two bumps on top of my hips are water retention.
2. An accumulation of standing liquid; a puddle. -> That’s the think I stand in after sweating hard to try to remove the bumps.
3. A deep or still place in a stream.
4. A swimming pool -> That’s what I thought it would be all along. You get out of the water and a new life begins. Maybe it’s too corny of an analogy with the baby’s birth.
5. An underground accumulation of petroleum or gas in porous sedimentary rock.-> Believe me, some days it feels like it: it stinks and whatever energy you put in it is sucked and you are left with the same old wait job.
I am afraid that none of those definition work. Let’s keep on reading the dictionary and Ha, here it is.
Pool: noun - A group of people available for some purpose.
Yes, that’s it. The group of people, in this case, is couples, or individuals available for the purpose of raising a child that will be placed with them by first parents who willingly make the decision to enter the world of adoption.
Note that I use “first parents” and “willingly”: later I will explain the choice of words, as I am sure that it could get some reactions.
So, yes, my husband and I are the typical, over 40 would-be parents, who married late, went through the IVF ups and down, saw first hand, with many friends and family members, the challenge of raising a child, and yet still wanted to be part of the adventure.
We chose open adoption and will comment more on this decision later. We learned about the pool, could not wait to join in. Jumped in 13 months ago, floated, swam, floated some more, swallowed some water from time to time, but we are holding firm and our growing webbed feet are sure useful and get some impressive stare from all the new comers in the pool.
So let’s enter the wonderful world of the pool. See people lounge around it, see the ones lurking behind the bushes not quite understanding what the deal is about, see the beautiful people inside and their story and see me jump out and dry astonishingly fast the day I get the call to get out!