The State of California came to its senses today when it decided that gays and lesbians (and maybe singles) are people too. 

Today the California Supreme Court ruled that doctors cannot, on the basis of their “religious” beliefs, deny fertility treatments to people based on their sexual orientation. The Court held that Caifornia’s law prohibiting discrimination against certain classes of people (including on the basis of gender) trumps religious freedom rights. In other words, it’s illegal to deny fertility treatment to gays and lesbians.

The case stems from a 2002 incident in which a lesbian was denied treatment by a fertility clinic in Oceanside (near San Diego). The woman later became pregnant through an IUI (performed at another clinic) and delivered a son. The doctors claimed they denied treatment because the woman was single, and not because she was a lesbian. Hello? File that under “WTF.” 

In 2005, a lower court ruled that the doctors’ religious freedom justified the denial. Sadly, the doctors were backed by several influential interest groups including the California Medical Association, and other religious groups. It is unclear whether today’s unanimous ruling will be appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court…

What the hell is wrong with people? I mean I’m thrilled the state has finally recognized the equal right of all people to try to procreate. But seriously. I can only hope that other states actually take note and that similar restrictions are lifted. I also like to think that any possible attempt to appeal the decision will be squashed. Wishful thinking?

For more circle time fun, see this week’s show and tell, or my previous entries. 

I have to just get this one out, so bear with me here.

I know I’ve said this before, but despite the fact that I bare some of my innermost thoughts and fears in this space, I am generally a very private person who treasures her independence. I’ve been known to keep a defensive “wall” up to protect myself from feeling vulnerable and getting hurt. It often takes a lot of conscious effort to let my guard down, or to ask for help.

When we embraced open adoption as the way to finally build our family, I knew that would have to change somewhat. I’d be opening myself up to a whole new world, one in which I’d have very little control and would be extremely vulnerable to just about everything. Yet I recognize that if you’re not open to the possibility that something could be wonderful, you’re simply not open to the possibility of anything, ever.

I knew I’d have to open myself to this process, to have trust and faith that if we put it out into the universe, something good would come back in return. I had to be open to embrace the possibility for the best outcome. Sure, that means I must accept some level of risk — risk of rejection and disappointment, of loss. But the potential for happiness far outweighed the measure of risk and fear.

So we have been opening ourselves to the process. Open to learning and sharing, to new encounters, to new possibilities. Part of our process has been talking about our adoption experience with others, opening people’s minds and hearts to understanding, compassion. In opening ourselves to the possibilities, we allow others to share our journey.  

This is so different from our experience with infertility. We held that close, kept it private. We had such little support. We retreated into the safety and comfort of each other.

As we become entrenched in the adoption process, we are slowly (finally) reemerging, and the world looks different to us. That is not to suggest that our infertility has disappeared, only that we have new hope and purpose. And with that, we are rebuilding our community in a new light, so to speak.

With open adoption, we are responsible for doing some of our own outreach if we want a placement sooner rather than later. So I knew we’d have to spread the word and seek help. So, symbolic of my effort to open myself to this process, yesterday I sent an email to about 25 of my colleagues announcing our excitement about our decision to adopt. I explained that we were turning to our circle of friends, family, and colleagues and asking them to hold us in their minds and hearts as we begin our search for the right match and connection.

And of course I asked them to let us know if they happen to encounter a situation in which someone they know finds themself unfortunately unable to parent and considering an adoption plan.

An odd request? Maybe, yes. But I have been told that I need to tell everyone. So I had to do that. It was a huge step for me. Ultimately, I was asking for help, which is something I’m not very good at doing.

So I put it out to the universe. Maybe something will come back to us, maybe not. The point is that I did it.

Once I got over sharing this intimate part of my life with my colleagues — most of whom have known little about my personal life over the past many years — it actually felt good to put it out there. It felt like an opening. And I invited it.

I didn’t send the message with any specific expectations. I actually didn’t expect much in return at all. But now, a day later, I can say that I guess I had hoped for something, well, more. A word of support or encouragement, or something. I heard from just three people. That’s just a 10% return. Of course I am quite grateful to the three who were very kind and supportive. Quality over quantity, I know.

I don’t know what I wanted, since I (thought I) did it with no real expectation. But I guess I expected a little more? Maybe I’ve suddenly gone from being independent to needy? After all, these are colleagues and not close friends or family. Most of us don’t even work in the same office. But I have worked with them for years, and I like to think they are some pretty cool and committed people. A number of them know that we lost our baby a while back (2.5 years ago), and some were very supportive.

It’s possible there just isn’t much to say, I guess. Sure it’s a big deal for me, but not them. Maybe it’s too personal a thing to share? Maybe they feel pity that I was unable to get pregnant again? Maybe they view adoption as second best? Maybe they don’t realize how big this is, or that it’s something to celebrate? Maybe they are not the compassionate caring people I thought they were. Expectations will so often let you down.  

And while I honestly don’t care what they actually think, I do wonder what’s so fucking hard about sending a quick reply to say, hey, thinking of you, thanks for the update, or something, anything. Whatever.

I thought this would be good preparation for doing our “profile” outreach — you put it out there and nothing may come of it, for a while, yet you have to accept that and trust in the process. We must remain open. I must remain open to the best possible outcome. I must remain open to the possibility for good.

I had a busy day yesterday, with back-to-back appointments before I even made it to work. 

First I had a session with a new therapist. At one point she asked me to share my fears or concerns about adoption. I discussed a few issues that I had been thinking about, some I’m dealing with now, and some I anticipate could arise in the future. I talked about how my initial fears about adoption had subsided, how the more I learn the more I embrace the process. I explained our concern about making the right match, especially given our limited resources (logistical and emotional), the uncertainty of which can be a source of anxiety. I explained my concern about the loss our child may feel, and my inability to fulfill the fundamental aspect of parenting that comes with shared heritage. 

I also talked about how we have had to rebuild our circle of support since we received so little support during our infertility and losing our baby. I explained that so many people know so little about open adoption, yet it is difficult to know when and how to clarify some of the misconceptions I alluded to in my last post, to prepare our family and friends and ultimately try to protect our child from unnecessary pain or discomfort.

At first, the therapist suggested that I was overanalyzing these issues. She suggested that I didn’t need to put too much energy into these thoughts unless or until these issues arise. She suggested that I/we try to simplify the process by focusing on the present. There was no need to dwell on what may or may not happen in the future.  

My initial reaction was mixed. On one hand, she’s right that I don’t need to worry about every issue right now, especially with such little energy to spare. Not every issue may arise.  As we are learning, we need to trust in the process and put some faith in the universe to work its magic for the right situation to find its way to us, somehow. On the other hand, I wondered if she was truly appreciating the range and depth of issues we face, or if, in her attempt to help us simplify the present, she might have minimized the significance of these issues to me. Hmm… 

She thought trying to “educate” people now was not really appropriate or necessary, and suggested we could do that, if necessary, when our family and friends finally embrace our baby with open hearts. I’m not sure I agree with her on that point. As I said before, we talk about the process in part to share it with others, but there are also some misguided views I’d like to set straight now. Yet I am conscious of how awkward it can be to try to raise awareness (about positive language or negative myths) without preaching or lecturing. Still, I am left with the question of what to say and when, as I imagine I will be long after our child comes to us…

While I liked this woman and I imagine she may be an effective therapist, I’m not sure I would return to her to deal with adoption-related issues. She does work with adoptive families and adoptees, but her specialty is family counseling generally. Interestingly, she did caution us in parenting about viewing everything through the adoption lens. She said many parents make the mistake of attributing every problem to the fact that their child was adopted, when she does not believe that is often the case. 

Next up, I had my one-on-one with our case worker as the next phase of our home study. We met for 45 minutes, mainly going through my autobiographical questionnaire in our application. She asked more than I expected about my childhood and adolescence, about pivotal moments such as my parents’ divorce and my dad’s illness. She asked about my relationship with family members and their support of our decision. She asked about my work situation. Then she asked about M and what kind of parent he’d be, who would be the disciplinarian, and how we’d resolve our differences in parenting. All pretty easy questions to answer.

Then we had a very interesting discussion in response to her question about concerns that I may have about adoption generally. Again, I explained how my initial concerns had subsided and how I have come to truly embrace child-centered open adoption as beneficial for everyone. We talked about the importance of making the right connection. 

Then we talked about raising awareness in others about the issues surrounding open adoption. This woman, an adoptive mother, definitely got where I was coming from on this. We talked about how hard it is to decide when to make something “a teachable moment,” and when you just let it go. We talked about how people will inevitably say ignorant things, even in front your child, and while you might want to either reply or simply brush it off, you remember that you’re also setting an example for your child of how to respond in a similar situation. I got the sense that she was really trying to offer guidance in our approach to adoptive parenting, which I found very comforting.

Next week is M’s individual visit, after which our case worker will draft our home study and any clarifying questions for our final visit on September 5. I am happy to report that we have completed nearly all of our home study paperwork — we just need to follow up with our references! We are still confident we can finalize it by mid-to-late September. After that, the outreach phase begins…

Thank you all so much for your support through the home study process.  To my old friends and new (this means you!), it means so much to read your kind words and to know that people are cheering us on. M and I truly appreciate every good thought and sweet comment, and especially all the positive energy flowing our way…

We’ve been talking about our process more and more with friends and family. This is partly because we are excited to share this next phase of our journey to parenthood, but it is also to raise awareness of the issues we face among the circle of loved ones who will become our child’s community.   

There are apparently many myths about adoption, e.g., how “easy” it must be to “just adopt.” So many seem surprised by the extensive layers of work we must undergo before we are even “matched.” People seem to think you just sign up and a baby will be waiting for you!

There are also persistent myths about the stereotypical birthmother (and father), about the quality of the child’s adjustment, and the realities of adoptive parenting. There are fears and misunderstandings about the “open” aspect of adoption, which I imagine I’ll write more about.

At this point, it seems that we have an added responsiblity to educate our friends and family about the realities of open adoption, to the extent we can since we are not yet adoptive parents. If they wish to support us, if they are to become our child’s community, then we need to dispel the myths and open their eyes so they can truly be a supportive community.

We have to do this while raising our own awareness about these issues, while delving into our own process. We have to do this with realistic expectations and without attacking well-meaning people with misguided views. We have to accept that most people have had no reason to know better. We have to learn to accept support, where we have been previously unaccustomed to it, even if it requires effort on our part. We view this as necessary preparation for everyone involved.

Ultimately, we must open ourselves up with compassion, as part of our own process.

Most people seem quite interested in this process. I see that in “real” life as well as here in this space. Maybe it’s because people want to understand, support, and also share, to the extent they can, this part of our journey (where most friends and family couldn’t really do that with infertility). Maybe people are simply curious about the process, and so our telling is informative or intriguing. 

I know that some of you are headed down the same path and I am definitely intrigued by your stories. Maybe some readers are wondering if domestic adoption may be an option for them in the future, and they want to learn more about what it entails.

I realize this blog did not begin as an adoption blog, but it seems to have evolved into an adoption after infertility and loss blog. My own journey is reflected here, at least in part, and writing continues to help me process the inevitable swirl of emotions, thoughts, fears and hopes that I encounter as I face at each step. 

Many thanks to everyone for sharing this ride with me.

new mom back at work

sings day care blues all day long

please don’t cry to me

(NOTE: to the other M, this is so not about you, but a thoughtless colleague — the one who insisted that people stop saying they were sorry about her early miscarriage because she was “over it” and already pregnant again…)

[Warning: long update!] Well, we survived our first home study visit! I’m happy to report it was really pretty simple. We are both so relieved already. We feel like we are on our way, finally. 

I felt fine until I woke up yesterday. It was hard to focus on work while I waited for the caseworker to arrive. Instead, I found myself out back picking our first blackberries and preparing a berry and melon salad (which she didn’t even eat), and re-cleaning the bathrooms (though she didn’t even go!). I got a little nervous when she was a few minutes late. I had to walk away from the computer, so I went outside to prune the tomato plants. Then I felt better. 

I had quite a scare when a woman pulled up at 1pm sharp (our appointment was 2:30). I was dripping wet and in a towel and M wasn’t even home yet. I thought for sure one of us had made a mistake about the time. Turns out it was some woman looking for the people who used to live here. Phew. 

Our case worker was really nice. She instantly made us feel at ease. I had put fresh flowers everywhere, which made me happy. (I got what was on sale: peach baby roses for the kitchen table, sunflowers for the mantle, irises for the coffee table, plus we had two single red roses leftover from an earlier arrangement for our dresser,* and lilies for the bathroom.)

I had tea and lemonade, but she drank mineral water with lemon. I put out a plate of gingersnap cookies and little brownies, and a big bowl of delicious grapes.  She ate maybe 3-4 grapes. M thinks she ate a cookie, but I’m not sure. 

We sat in the living room (not the kitchen table). She said something kind to ease us in, like, “OK, here we go. Are you ready?” And we began. 

We went through a bunch of paperwork and forms we need to complete (our task over the next few weeks). She asked where we were in the process. She seemed pleased by all the work we had done, and impressed that we were about to sign with the consultant who specializes in open adoption. We said we were anxious to get going since we know how long it can take, and we are ready to build our family!

Her questions were perfectly appropriate and relevant. We had already answered most of them in some form in our application. There were no real surprises, thankfully.

First, she asked us about our infertility and decision to adopt. After we explained our history, she said “That must have been hard. How did you deal with that?” (aka: tell me about your loss). We used this as an opportunity to tell her how close it has brought us. Yes, infertility sucks. Losing our son was the hardest thing I have ever lived through. Yet we are lucky in so many ways. Our strong foundation had been tested and reinforced. We had emerged even stronger and more determined and committed to becoming parents.

She asked whether we have been able to “resolve” our infertility and “wholeheartedly embrace adoption” as the way to build our family. We have absolutely embraced adoption, we said. Overcoming the loss of a biological child was hard, but we really just want to become parents. However our child comes into our lives will be a blessing. 

Here’s what else I remember: What are our strengths as a couple? How do we resolve differences? How did we meet? How long was it before we got married? How do we think parenting will change our lives and lifestyles? How do we think adoptive parenting will be different than traditional parenting? What kinds of relationship do we have with the children of our friends and family? What are our plans for after we bring home our baby? What level of openness or birthfamily contact would we be comfortable with?

We talked about our interest in establishing a relationship with birthfamily for the sake of our child. We discussed the importance of using positive language in discussing adoption. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but that was mostly it. Oh, and she asked about religion. 

Then she asked what kind of child we want. (Would it have been facetious to say “living”?) We told her how we laugh when people ask if we want a boy or a girl. The answer is yes!  But really for us the question is silly because we just don’t care. We did explain we would like the best chance of a healthy child, that we did not feel entirely well equipped to handle many special needs. Of course if we had to, we would. Next we have to complete a form about the different types of scenarios we would consider. 

We took her on a tour of the house, told her about our great neighborhood and the playgrounds, parks and terrific schools just across the street. I pointed out our two fire extinguishers! We all had a laugh when she asked if we had any “firearms” and M said no but I said yes, because I thought she said “fire alarms.” Everyone was caught off guard. But no guns here. 

For any renters out there, we were concerned that would be an issue. We tried to turn it in our favor by explaining that our priority was building our family and we chose not to buy a home (in this crazy housing market) because we wanted the freedom to live on one income so we could raise our child ourselves (i.e., not in daycare). After all we had gone through to bring a child into our lives, we wanted the freedom to enjoy every minute. Our finances will still be scrutinized, but we can’t change that. 

And that was it. When she said we’d stop there, M said “Really? I thought we were on a roll!” Seriously it went so smoothly. I was so proud of M and the way he handled these questions. He was awesome. He says he’s “inspired.” We thanked her for making us feel so at ease.

We confirmed our 1:1 interviews, which I imagine may be a little harder. Mine is next week and M’s is the week after. From what I hear, she may ask about our parents and what we’d do the same or different, our partner’s strengths and weaknesses, more about our marriage. Anyone else remember those visits?

We scheduled our final home study visit for Friday, September 5, so our home study could be complete by mid-September!

Now we just have to face our big pile of paperwork, which grew quite a bit yesterday, and hope our finances past the test. 

Many thanks again to everyone for your support during this exciting yet trying time. I can’t tell you how much it meant to have my cyber-friends, both old and new, sending us such positive energy and cheering us on. Seriously.

*As a symbol of my openness to this process, I’m sharing a picture of my dresser with the two roses. (If you can see it, the photo in back of M and I in the redwoods was taken the morning after our wedding!) Hey, maybe that makes this show-and-tell!

So rather than writing some profound haiku about the fact that I wasn’t nervous until I woke up, I thought I’d share something that made me smile as I count down the hours until the social worker comes (4 hours to go). 

My dear husband, the Amazing M, makes me breakfast every morning. Except Sundays when he begs me for pancakes and I oblige because I make some pretty kick-ass pancakes.

During the week he makes me the most delicious smoothies. In fact, some day for show-and-tell I’m going to share this ritual with you. They’re filled with blueberries and raspberries, a banana, vanilla rice milk and protein, and flax oil. Really delicious, and healthy too. 

On days I work from home (yay Friday), he puts it in the fridge and usually covers it with a note — sometimes just a smiley face or signature sun with an “I love you.” He often recycles the same note, but it always makes me happy.

Well today, his note said “Today is going to be a good day!” and he drew a little picture to show his happy heart. How fucking awesome is that? That’s a rhetorical question, no need to answer. 

Sorry, honey, hope I’m not embarrassing you, but you are just the sweetest thing and I love you. 

And now, back to pretending that I’m getting any work done…

Now that’s just a catchy title, isn’t it? Especially for a non-political blog. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep my political views to myself here (at least I think I have, more or less), which if you know me is somewhat of a feat. 

But I wanted to find a clever way to tell you that I won’t be able to post an update on tomorrow’s home study until later in the weekend, because we’re going to see this guy tomorrow night for a fun diversion after divulging our innermost thoughts and feelings to a total stranger. 

Which reminds me, thank you all so much for your comments on my last post. Reading about the views and experiences of others is always helpful as you enter into unknown territory. I’ll let you all know how it goes, just probably not until later in the weekend. 

Oh yes, about the title. Bill Maher is one (and hopefully he’ll make us laugh, or at least think); my brother is another (the one who lives 5000 miles away with the gorgeous kids); and of course, last but not least is Lori (who may describe herself as a new age republican, but I think she’s really a libertarian at heart, and I mean that in the best way!). So there you have it. All without saying anything political myself. Ha!

Gearing up for our home study visit on Friday, I realized that aside from cleaning our house, there’s not much we can do. Except get some fresh flowers. And someone suggested baking cookies (probably not going to happen). But there’s not really anything more we can do to prepare for the experience of being interviewed about our stability and “fitness” to parent.

We’ve already discussed the hard questions and answered in writing. But that’s much different than answering in person. I, for one, am usually more comfortable writing about difficult issues than talking about them, at least when it’s personal. And this is about as personal as it gets, aside from spreading my legs for a total stranger in a paper gown under fluorescent lights surrounded by onlookers. Oh right, I’ve done that too… Is nothing sacred anymore?

Rebeccah at Chasing a Child recently had an excellent post about the incredibly invasive nature of the adoption home study process. She wrote about the expectation that you should be prepared to “pry open your soul and lay it on the table” for inspection. She said something else that resonated — that while infertility treatment was also a very invasive process, there were boundaries that enabled her to protect her heart and mind from exposure and scrutiny.

It’s so true. There are no such boundaries in this process. There is no division between personal and private. Everything is fair game, subject to scrutiny. Our feelings are our own and we have to deal with them, but here they are to be judged by people with the power to make us parents.

I understand the need for certified professsionals to verify that we are not criminals, and that we would provide a permanent loving home for a child. I appreciate the need to ensure that we would not physically or psychologically harm our child. But I have a hard time with the intense scrutiny of every little detail of my life, heart and mind, particularly where I doubt its relevance to my ability to parent. (I can’t even begin to tell you how mad it makes me that a single person or gay couple could encounter even greater restrictions…)

M and I don’t have anything to hide. We’re committed to telling the complete truth. But for me that’s not even the point.

We would expect to be asked about how we came to our decision to adopt, our views on discipline, etc. We would even expect to be asked for proof of finances or income. Yet here are just some of the questions I’ve heard asked, with detailed answers expected: Tell me about your parents; Tell me about your infertility; Tell me about your grief; How do you feel about not being able to have biological children?; What are your fears about open adoption?; Tell me about your sex life. Excuse me?

Tell you about my grief. Hmm. Do you want the long or the short version? I suppose it bears repeating. I will never “get over” the grief of losing my son. I may always grieve the biological children we never had. But I’ve made a conscious choice to try to move past it, to move forward. Because I want to be a mother. To the extent that my grief for my lost child/ren would affect my ability to parent my future child, I get it. But this is not a psychologist making that determination.

How do I feel about not being able to have a biological child? Well, it sucks. It’s a significant loss. But does that mean I would not unconditionally love a child who had been carefully entrusted into our care? Absolutely not. I’m committed to becoming a parent, and our child will be our child.

I was on an adoption board recently, reading about someone’s home study in which the couple had been asked about their sex life (and she was not the only one). Now I’m hardly prudish, but I was offended by the question. How the hell is that relevant?  Is the social worker trying to determine the stability of the marriage based on how frequent or good the sex is? Is she even qualified to make a judgment whether both people are satisfied? On the board, most women said “who cares? it’s fair game and I have nothing to hide!” But tell me, what happens if I say “excuse me, but can you tell me how that is relevant here?” Seriously, I want to know.

I should add that we’re not really sweating the home study, even though it’s a lot of work. I just don’t want to resent the invasiveness of the process any more than necessary.

To anyone else who has been through this, what’s the strangest question you were asked in your home study, and how did you respond?