Oh, you’ve got to read this-article by Pamela Tsigdinos in More magazine. It’s about feminism and infertility. And then when you’re done reading that, read this and then this. And if you can take one more, then this as well. I found a new magazine to read, goodbye Glamour, hello More magazine.
Okay, as promised. Some new to me, some old to me.
- Becoming Whole – Infertility brought her freedom in a weird, very painful way.
- Fertility Foibles – For those who know how “lovely” it is to go to your ob/gyn office for non pregnancy related reasons.
- Learning to Let Go – cause she’s 4o – nuff said
- Blood Signs – cause she’s always writing stuff that makes me look up at least one word and cause she’s a pregnant, dog loving, stepmum.
- Welcome to the Dollhouse – doctor, mother, knitter, photographer – she doesn’t sleep
- A Page in My Book – through ICLW – just reading about taking care of her sick children made me rethink this whole thing.
- The Road Less Travelled – Canadian. Cool. Courageous.
- Working On It – Canadian. Cool. Enlightened.
- Life from Here – Open adoption – old to the game, new to the real live baby game. Enlightened beyond belief. Read and weep.
- Let’s change trains – hopping aboard the adoption train
- Eyes Wide Open – waiting to adopt, waiting sucks
- Stirrup queen – cause anyone who can blog about Octomum in a rational manner and not have her head explode deserves an award.
- Through the Eyes of a Stranger – Thanks Stefanie for the nod – and check out her beautiful looking blog!
- Apron Strings for Emily – I love how she loves her pets and her husband – she just loves.
- The Young and The Infertile – taking it one day at a time right now
So we had our social worker visit and it went really well. Of course, I was cleaning and sweeping from the night before and putting out fresh flowers just to give the place that special sparkle. She was really pleasant and it went really well. DH did most of the talking, oddly (I’m usually the chatty one) and Juno chewed on a rawhide. She behaved like an angel right on cue! Just to remind you, we had to have this visit according to the state’s requirement. She said she was there basically to make sure we didn’t have holes in the walls and pot plants hanging on the windowsill since the last time we had someone over. In BC, you don’t have to have a social worker visit once your homestudy is complete until after you have brought an infant home. And lucky for us, she only has to come 3 more times when that happens. I did show her the photo I had purchased (2 years ago!) in anticipation of having a child. It’s a picture of a Buddha’s hand cradling a flower. Yes, it’s still sitting in the 2nd bedroom, waiting patiently to be framed and hung.
I have said this before in a protected post, but I’ll say it again that you may want to consider going directly the States if you’re looking at private adoption. You just have Hague approved lawyers and check references. This really depends on individual circumstances of course, but there are a few things I would have done differently. One of my fellow bloggers in BC got a match within a week! I was kind of hoping I’d be one of those people! The universe however had other plans for me. You can’t count on any access to the rest of Canada in your search. Each province handles adoption differently and the ministries only look within their own province. This is why some people are told they may be waiting for 5 years or more. And let’s face it, it’s a numbers game and I’m assuming there are more adoption opportunities in the States.
I’d have to say the waiting part has been the most emotionally challenging. We’d been seriously trying since 2004 to have a child and it’s not like you can turn that yearning off like a spout. I even told the expectant mom that if we hadn’t met her we were going to call a halt to adoption plans by the end of the year. It was just too hard on me. And the constant stress during this recession has seriously whipped hubby’s butt. I don’t know how he’s going to react to fatherhood (in terms of not getting enough sleep; he barely made it with Juno) and most guys I know aren’t too crazy about babies cause they can’t kick a ball or laugh at their fart jokes. I hear guys talk about not wanting to support another man’s child but women are expected to raise their man’s children.
Does anyone have any kind of input about how couples deal with the new infant experience?
Sometimes I get freaked out and think what if I suck at motherhood and have a breakdown cause I finally got what I wanted and now I can’t handle it? Then I remember all we’ve been through so far, all the heartbreaks and shattered hopes and angry words. I remember I have Gohonzon. I’ll be fine.
Thanks Stefanie http://www.lifesjourney-stef.blogspot.com/ for the lovely One Lovely Blog Award. That was incredibly sweet of you. But, ahem, would you forgive me for not passing it on to 15 more blogs right now? I’m right in the middle of ICLW and I’m reading all these wonderful blogs!
Ohmigosh, I am so behind already. Have already tried to catch up with commenter’s blogs already and got sucked in and linked from one to the other. Synopsis of me: TTC with intent about a year after my marriage at 38. I was with hubby for 5 years previous to that, but making a living, not babymaking was more on our minds. Just about the time my mother moved from out of province to stay with us, she had a stroke and had to be put in intermediate care for dementia. Oh, yeah and I was attempting IVF for the first time. We had already done the Clomid (hello hot flashes) and IUI’s. Tried IVF along with acupuncture, naturopathic diet and Chinese medicine. 4 IVF attempts in total with 2 frozen FET later, we turned to adoption as a sure thing. That took a while and after several bouts of depression, marital discord and a lot of cursing, it looks as though we may be on our way to a family of our own.
Never fails. DH goes away for a few days and all of sudden I’m busier than a one armed paper hanger. Had a very frustrating audition yesterday. It reminded me of starting all over again. there I was auditioning for a non speaking role in a feature. I thought I was going to meet the director, but no, it’s just the casting director (who hired me for the small but well paying gig) who wants me to talk about what makes me mad. She wanted to see a certain “look”. I considered for a nanosecond telling her that it was feeling underappreciated, for being overlooked, for feeling like I’m auditioning with non union members for a non speaking role by a miserable, sour faced C***. But I didn’t. Instead I told her I was mad at injustice and for women killing their babies when some of us can’t even have one. Frankly, that doesn’t make me mad as much as sad, but I did my best.
Oh, yeah, I left the young’uns in charge of mum – the hairdresser’s uncle was at the shop and he kept them all thoroughly entertained until she got there. I drove back to get mum and ran into a young fellow I met in Banff who now has a recurring role on a series here. Good for him. I knew he was going places, he didn’t end up signing with my agent (which now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have either). And yes, he knows how much I hate nurse roles but what can I say, I got a kid on the way, so I need the every penny I can get. By the time I got mum back to the home (looking fabulous and in a good mood) I got home to chat with the kids and then head back out to the same place I was before (an hour away in rush hour traffic) for my wardrobe call. That was easy – except (am I whining?) she got me a XL top to go under my scrubs. I could pull it down into a dress. I had one of those moments – hey, I’m not XL anymore – but then I remembered I have an actor role. No room for ego here. And that, my friends, is why I wanted so badly to quit doing nurse roles. My ego was taking a battering. I’ve got a demo DVD that says I can do so much more, but here I was accepting a nurse role just because of the money. Now, I realize this doesn’t make me any different than your average person doing their joe job to pay the mortgage. And frankly years ago, I did extra work cause my union standing paid me more money in a day than a lot of people make in a week. I ate a lot of humble pie. And I still don’t like the taste. I know, I know, more daimoku to rise above it all.
Good news is that I ran into the first AD (assistant director) who directed me in an Outer Limits shows years ago and I just love him, one of the sweetest people I have ever met in this business (there’s about 12), so I look forward to being on set next week. Honestly, people, it’s a cushy job if you can get it. All I have to do is not fuck up my line or trip over the furniture.
Then I picked up some new toys for Juno the Destroyer, got home, made tacos and had my nephew help me clean up. Hubby arrived home, he helped me with my hair and now I’m off to get it done before the social worker visits.