I’m going to say some things that seem contradictory….but I’m not sure they really are.

Again, these are some preliminary thoughts, and I’m not sure I’ve got it all worked out in my head, which means there’s very little chance they’ll come across clear as crystal here, but it’s worth a shot.

Before I get to the heavy, possibly confusing adoption stuff, let me clear my head with an uncomplicated, non adoption related story:

I used to have a friend and either one of us would, at various times, be the more financially stable one. She was getting more hours at her job, she’d treat me to a movie. I was making better tips at my job, I’d treat her to dinner. We had a discussion in the very beginning of this exchange and explained that the other didn’t have to worry. It was “friend money.” It would all work itself out eventually. Probably.

It didn’t. I had a job where I made tips, she had an hourly job and she didn’t make much more than I did – before tips. We had to have the “friend money” talk again, because it wasn’t working itself out and my wallet was now consistently taking more of a hit than hers was.

But I didn’t care. She was my friend. I wanted to see her and spend time with her. And yes, often we did that for free, but sometimes we didn’t, and I was more than happy to cover her share.

It could have gotten awkward and confusing and complicated, but it didn’t. We kept it simple. We set up boundaries where we didn’t lend large amounts of money or just hand it over blindly. We worked so that our relationship wasn’t impacted by what could have been the elephant in the room – mostly because we talked openly about the elephant. And we were on the same page.

It was then that I realized that money issues didn’t have to be some huge awkward deal.

Though I’d watched them become that in other people’s realtionships, so I certainly acknowledged the possibility! I just had one of those, “That won’t happen to me” moments.

Of course, we fast forward five or ten years and here I am, fretting over money and relationships. Ah, the life of the adult, right? (And not the twenty year old adult that just thinks she’s an adult when the real adults all know better!)

Not only do I deal with all this money crap in my relationship with Long Board (though I think we’re taking an approach similar to what my old girl friend and I did, hence the working out so well bit) but in my relationship with Dee.

Adoption seems to be an even more fertile mine field than other relationships, and money is no exception. But does it have to be so different?

I do think that exchanging money in Adoptionland can muddy the waters.

I don’t think that prospective adoptive parents should be paying expectant mom expenses – food, clothing, hospital bills, etc.

I don’t think that after placement adoptive parents should continue to be financial resources for their child’s first parents. (Or the other way around either – yes, it happens!)

I do think there are exceptions to the rule.

For instance, one of my Cyber friends sent her son’s first Mom some money for food. She’s currently unemployed and hasn’t been able to provide adequately for her family. Cyber friend felt compelled to help. She wasn’t asked, forced, manipulated. She just wanted to help.

She received some support and she received some criticism.

But it was something she said later, in response to some of the criticism that really got me:

We sponsor a family in xxxx every month for $30.00 (food)

I’m not “responsible” but if I can do it for strangers how can I not help the woman who brought my child into the world? I mean it’s FOOD!

And it reminded me of how I can make things harder than they have to be. And that sometimes something can just be simple, even when it doesn’t seem that way from all angles.

A Mother was hungry.

Another Mother was able to help her out.

They happen to be Mothers to the same child.

Do I think this should be the plan? That one woman should be financially responsible for the other? That relying on this sort of assistance is the way to build fair and healthy relationships? Nope! I don’t.

But I also realize that it can work once in a while. That sometimes if you take a step back it doesn’t have to be this circle of “what if’s” where the most “reasonable” conclusion is that drugs will be bought, boundaries will be shattered, and the lender will enter into a lifelong manipulative relationship with the lendee.

Sometimes a dollar is just a dollar.

And sometimes it can become unhealthy.

So sometimes, can’t we establish our boundaries, support each other, have open dialogues, and find a place for “friend money?”

I don’t make a lot of money.

I work for a very large non-profit organization (that I mostly talk about in password protected posts to preserve a little discretion there) that, thankfully, dedicates most of it’s donations to services and research. Which is great, but it means that my paycheck suffers because of it.

But that’s okay. I’ve never been particularly driven by money.

Almost to a fault.

Long Board makes more money than I do as a PhD student receiving research grants. Not only that, but once he graduates his income will skyrocket, while mine might get small little bumps here and there depending on the economy and if I find a promotion somewhere in my future.

This leads to a slight disparity on what we can spend. It means I cook at home a lot, while Long Board takes us out to dinner. It means that if Long Board wants to go skiing, he’s probably treating me. It makes me a little uncomfortable, only because I don’t want to take advantage, and because I don’t want him to ever question for one single solitary moment that him spending money on me is part of what draws me to him.

It doesn’t.

Yes, I have a fabulous time skiing with him (something I can only afford because of his generosity) but I also love our lazy Sundays spent lounging on the couch reading or watching tv. But I’m always acutely aware of how much he spends, and I try to reciprocate when possible, and assure him of my gratefulness when not.

It’s one of the more complex areas of our relationship, but I think that we’re doing a good job navigating this uneven territory.

***********

I have a visit with Dee and Cupcake this month. I haven’t made a huge deal out of it yet as I’m still in tentative mode, where I protect myself realizing that just because a visit is on the books does not mean that a visit is actually going to happen.

If the visit does happen, Dee has proposed a location for the day. I’m not terribly thrilled about this location for personal reasons, but that’s okay. I’ve dealt with them and it’s not a big deal. However, the visit will be held at a place that has an admission fee. Normally, I get into this place for free as Baby Sis works there (that should clarify why I’m not too thrilled about the site!) but since she won’t be there that day and I can’t explain why I need a free ticket, I’m probably going to find myself paying to get in.

Which sucks.

Because it’s around $20. And I’m really not spending $20 on outtings these days. I know, I know, $20 is a drop in the hat. A visit with my daughter is worth far more than $20. And of course, if it means seeing her I’ll spend the $20. But I sort of wish that I didn’t have to.

I’ve been extremely frugal recently. I’ve been eating a lot of rice and pasta. I’ve been not driving my car on the weekends to save on gas. I’ve brought lunch to work every day since the New Year (and I don’t plan on reverting back to going out for lunch once or twice a week). I don’t buy books, but utilize the public library instead. I don’t spend money uneccesarily.

This visit is a necessity, so I’m okay with the $20, but still a little frustrated by it. And I’m more than a little embarrassed to bring that up to Dee. I don’t want her to think that I’m fishing for her to offer to pay, and I don’t want her to think that I’m having trouble making ends meet.

Ordinarily, our visits don’t cost anything. We got corn dogs on the pier once, and Dee bought – but the bill for the three of us was about seven dollars, so I didn’t feel too bad. Two visits were at a park and cost nothing, and on the fourth visit Cupcake got an ice cream. I spend more on gas than we’ve ever spent on food, entertainment, etc. Which is great! A park, a snack, and a camera sound like a perfect (free!) recipe for a visit to me!

All that to say that in three years we’ve never had to even think about money in the context of our relationship. But now I’ve got a $20 ticket, $7 parking, perhaps lunch? For me? That’s an extravagant Sunday. And I’m not sure where I’m going with this yet, but there it is…

I don’t mind letting Long Board in on the truth about my financial situation, because we’re growing as a couple. He knows what I do, why I don’t make much money, and he sees what I spend my money on (and what I don’t).

Dee and I…..I’m not sure we are growing in our relationship. Hopefully the updates about me that I plan on sending will help that along some, but I haven’t felt like I’ve (we’ve?) made any real progress there.

More thoughts on money tomorrow….

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I had goals for blogging today:

1. I wasn’t going to write about Long Board.
2. I was going to write something uplifting or happy or not full of confusion.
3. I was going to try to write about adoption – but not forcing the “happy” and “uplifting” part. Maybe a story about a past visit. Maybe talking about the upcoming visit.

Then I read some other blogs, including Heather @ PNR.

Hurrah! A new Open Adoption Roundtable! Hey brain, you can turn off and not think of a subject for the day – Andy (Today’s the Day!) is guest hosting and has provided one!!!

Stoked, because I love the OA Roundtables and I think Andy is the cat’s pajamas, I read, hungry for the topic.

However, the topic might prove to be an epic fail when I consider my bloggy goals for the day:

We often hear about open adoptions where the two sides don’t want the same level of openness. First mothers who don’t get updates as often as they would like, or not as many visits each year. Or adoptive parents who want to include their child’s first mother in his life, but she is not ready.

But what we don’t often discuss is when people on the same side of the triad can’t agree on the level of openness in an adoption.

• It could be a wife who wants a fully open adoption but the husband only wants to send letters once a year.
• Or a first mother isn’t ready for an open adoption but the first father wants to be part of the baby’s life.
• Maybe a spouse isn’t supportive of their partner entering into reunion with their first mother.
• Or a partner who came along after the adoption and isn’t comfortable with your relationship with your placed child.
• And the classic Hallmark movie of the year scenario: Your mother-in-law is convinced that the baby will be snatched away from under your nose if you have an open adoption.

How would/do you navigate these situations? Does your current relationship impact the type of open adoption that you have? How does this affect your current relationship?

Well damn.

For the first time I feel a little unqualified to respond to an OA Roundtable, if only because I don’t have anyone on “my side” that knows about Cupcake’s adoption, let alone that attempts to provide input on the level of openness I have/should have. So I think, well, I can just tweak the topic, as I’ve seen others do (and with great success!) in the past.

But this part of the question:

Does your current relationship impact the type of open adoption that you have? How does this affect your current relationship?

leads me to think of Long Board and confusion – two of the very things I was hoping to avoid today. Perhaps those will become tomorrow’s goals….

So today, I suppose I’ll write about WHY my current relationships don’t know about Cupcake, and how THAT in fact impacts my relationships and the open adoption.

Open adoption is hard and stressful and challenging to navigate. At least for me. And while having friends, family, and Long Board involved might prove to be a support system, I also have a fear of the added stress that it would entail. The input from my Mom, her pushing for visits, for pictures, for updates. The cries from some of my more emotional friends that want to check in to constantly see how I’m doing. The friends that don’t know what to say, so don’t say anything at all.

I know me, and I know that for some people, during some times, no matter what they choose to say or do, it won’t be “right.” So I don’t give them the opportunity to help me, but I don’t give them the opportunity to fail me either. To make this harder on me than it has to be.

A negative view? Perhaps…but it’s where I am today.

I’ve obviously written ad nauseum about Long Board not knowing, about the timing of when he should know, about the actual telling process, about my fears, you name it. It’s as though I haven’t noticed that the horse has bled dry and I just keep beating it over and over and over again.

But again, that’s where I am today.

But as much as people knowing about Cupcake would affect my open adoption and my relationships, people not knowing has just as grand an impact, just in different ways.

I find myself holding back, not contributing to conversations, not releasing all the information that I do know about things – because it’s a secret (albeit one that I started!) LB and I were talking about childbirth the other day, breastfeeding, diapering, all things “baby.” He also mentioned that he was a ten and a half pound baby. I wanted to call his Mother and apologize. I also wanted to say that I can’t imagine that, as a 7-ish pound baby (I still have yet to be informed of what Cupcake weighed when she was born….) was just about all I would ever want to handle. That child birth is no joke. I wanted it to just be “okay” conversation. But I hold back.

I find myself having to live a lie – especially on visit weekends. I have a very nosy involved family, and crazy as it sounds, me not answering a cell phone for a few hours on a Saturday is incredibly suspect. Where am I? What am I doing? I have a visit next month and I scheduled it for a weekend that LB is going to be out of town because I don’t want to lie to him.

And it obviously puts a strain on the relationship to some degree. As of last weekend, he knows something is up . I don’t think he has any clue what, but he knows that my outpouring of emotion isn’t standard TG behavior and while he let it slide this weekend, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll want to know.

And I could stay in the shadows of adoption land if it weren’t for this perfect little girl that I am trying to build a relationship with. If it weren’t for open adoption I could hide another fifteen years at least. But she’ll force me out of the shadows – and as terrified as I am of that moment, those moments, I’m okay. Because it’s worth it – it will be worth it. Her smiles, her laughs, her peals of “I love you” – they make it okay.

And they’ll hopefully be enough to get me through the conversation with LB, the harder conversation with my Mom, the things that scare me half to death.

They’ll be enough to push me from just having an open adoption, to being open about adoption.

This weekend, Long Board, Baby Sis and I were discussing life experiences. We were discussing how we came to have the opinions we do today, where our (sometimes very strong) stances come from. Long Board was defending himself explaining that he’s had a lot of varied life experiences, and that they’ve led him to a place where he’s pretty stubborn confident in those opinions.

I sometimes get the feeling that there’s a lot in Long Board’s past that I don’t know about.

It makes me curious, and a little sad, but I respectfully give him space. I don’t push the issue. I figure we both have experiences we might not be ready to share. I know I’m still not.

But there are some things that I do know. LB has pectus excavaturm – the most common congenital deformity of the anterior wall of the chest , in which several ribs and the sternum grow abnormally. This produces a caved-in or sunken appearance of the chest. He doesn’t have a severe case, but it was significant enough that in his senior year of high school he had a surgery in which a metal rod was inserted through the left side of his chest to hold up his rib cage. During surgery, two of his ribs were broken. He had the rod for three years, causing him pain when he laughed, coughed, or sneezed.

It doesn’t sound like a good experience, but he says that he’s grateful for going through it, if only because of how he grew from it and what he learned from it. He quickly followed up by saying that though he did grow, he wouldn’t wish the experience on his worst enemy.

It was then that Baby Sis said, “I think that you grow so much from those experiences that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.”

And suddenly I felt like I couldn’t quite breathe. Because I know what that experience is for me. I know that I have grown in different ways from placing Cupcake, but I’ve had my share of “broken ribs” along the way as well. But it wasn’t a story that I could share. That I was willing to share. That I was ready to share.

***********

Later this weekend, we started talking about pets.

LB and I talk about our lives like it’s a done deal. That one day we’ll have a house, kids, a dog (breed under debate, but I think we’ve compromised on Golden Retriever – yes, very cliche) and two cats (because we cannot agree on our cat preferences; him: giant cat, like a Maine Coon/me: tiny adorable housekitty ). It was during this discussion/debate that we started talking about indoor vs. outdoor cats.

I want an indoor cat, he’s firmly in the outdoor cat camp. He thinks cats should be able to roam, kill mice, have fun. I’m afraid of my cat getting eaten, running away, hit by a car.

I do not deal well with death or seperation these days.

It does not take Freud to figure this out.

But Long Board is not Freud and he does not know my reasons for this.

The conversation continued to talking about what to do if animals behave badly. As in chronically. As in a cat that pees on everything, thrashes furniture, etc. I vote for keeping the cat until there is absolutely no other possible solution available. None. Long Board is much more, “get rid of it, find it a better home.”

I asserted that I could not do that, would not do that.

He asserted that he wouldn’t keep an animal that ruined his things.

With emotion that he couldn’t understand I asked, “So what are you going to do? Take this animal that’s a part of your family, that you’ve loved and cared for and that knows you, and send it away to a new home with new smells and people and food and surroundings? You’re just going to give up on it because it’s not fun and easy anymore?? I can’t get behind that. I’m sorry. If it’s a last, last, last resort and the pet is a real threat to your family that’s one thing, but because it’s old and incontinent you want to toss it out? You’re going to punish it for aging??? No, no, I’m sorry, but no.”

He conceded to some of my points, but we mostly tabled this as a “we’ll cross that bridge when we get there” kind of discussion. But my bridge? Only has ONE way off, and he’s not changing my mind anytime soon.

***********

I know that some of this is triggered by my Mom getting rid of our family cat. And I know that was triggered by Cupcake’s placement. And I know that LB doesn’t know about that yet. But we all have current opinions that have been shaped by our life experiences.

And I sure as hell wouldn’t wish some of mine on anyone else.

As someone that hid their pregnancy from their family, you can probably assume that my parents weren’t the “cool” parents that were handing out condoms to teenaged TG. When I started dating as a teen (we’re talking like 18) I wasn’t allowed to have boys in my room at all, and not in the family room with the door closed.

As a young adult in my twenties, the same rules still applied. I also had strict curfews as long as I lived in my parents home, which, if you’ve followed me for a long time, you’ll know means until I was 25.

Twenty-five years old.

I’d never had a boy in my bedroom or been left in my parents house with one unsupervised. Of course the boys I was dating either had cooler parents or, of course, didn’t live with their parents, so alone time wasn’t out of the question. I had friends that were allowed to spend the night at their boyfriends houses and I thought that was about the craziest thing I’d ever heard! It’s just so terribly far from what my “normal” was.

And so, on vacation with Long Board, we stayed at my brothers home. My brother took me aside and asked if we’d be staying in the same room together. It appeared as though he was trying to prevent me from being put in an uncomfortable position. I assured him I’d be okay and that was the first time that I’d ever been in a bedroom alone with a man under the watchful family eye.

It was weird, but it was my brothers house. My Mom was safely two states away and it alleviated some of the weirdness that I had expected.

I’m not naive enough to think that my Mom doesn’t know that Long Board and I sleep together. He lives two hours away and stays in the city where I live on weekends. I have to assume that she’s put two and two together and knows that means he sleeps in my apartment, presumably not on my couch.

But she hasn’t seen it. Hasn’t seen him in my home. Hasn’t seen how comfortable he makes himself. Hasn’t seen how good I am with that level of comfort.

And all of that is about to change.

My Mom has organized a huge family snow trip to the mountains. My two local brothers, their wives, children, Baby Sis, my parents, and I will all be driving to the mountains and staying together at a hotel. All of us.

Plus Long Board.

I’m still not clear how he got invited, but someone brought him up and asked if he’d be joining us. My Mom, surprised, thought about it for a minute and decided that he should of course accompany us. We’d be skiing, he loves to snowboard. We’d be outdoors, he’s Mister Outdoorsy. And, for some reason I’ve yet to identify, he LOVES my family.

I’m appropriately suspicious.

But what’s done is done. Mom’s booked an extra room, LB’s excited, Mom’s excited, my brothers that love LB are excited, the little kids are happy…..and I’m a bundle of completely freaked out nerves.

This is on some crazy fast forward that I wasn’t ready for. Family vacations??? Three whole days (granted, not the world’s longest amount of time, but still) STUCK with fifteen of my closest family members with no escape? Yes, he likes them, but it’s always been in fairly manageable doses. A kid’s birthday party in the park here, catching the Colts game with my brother there, and even a dinner or two at my folks house. But this? It’s a whole different ball game buddy!

And, needless to say, I’m completely paranoid about the sleeping arrangements.

Thank God it’s not this weekend, or I’d probably be too nervous to even write this. I’ve got one week to get over being weird about this trip….and to realize that my family has started to include Long Board as family.

And to realize that he’s okay with it.

And to admit that I am too.

I know I haven’t written in nearly a week, but hopefully this post will make it up to you. Because I’ve been thinking about how to write about it for nearly three weeks….

L Bombs.

I’ve been worried about this since October. But I talked about it, got it out of my system and shelved it. Then there was the day when I thought he might have said it. Which brought the issue back to the forefront of my mind.

And there it stayed until we went on vacation.

Vacations seem to be the perfect opportunity for big romantic gestures. Like L Bombs. So I admit I was on alert a little bit. My ears were just especially tuned to make sure that I didn’t have another moment where I couldn’t make out which word he said. The first night was a no-go. I thought our nights in Whistler were probably the best opportunity, but we were tired and sore from skiing. Then we spent the two uncomfortable nights at his brothers house – and while we had a very sweet moment on the roof at midnight on New Year’s – I knew that this wouldn’t be the time or place either. (Not to mention that New Year’s would be just a shade cliche). Though no more cliche than if it was on an “important” date like our six month anniverary. Which we spent at my brother’s house. (Another no). Then our last night we spent sleeping on a couch at his uncles house. Not a couch bed, just a couch. It was close quarters, but not exactly the most romantic venue either.

So we rode a plane home that night, part of me thinking we survived the trip without having to deal with that awkward exchange of words, and part of me thinking that maybe it wasn’t coming for a long time. That I didn’t have to be on alert. That I could just relax and enjoy what we do have. Which is all I really wanted. Because I do enjoy it, very much.

We had dinner at my parents house that night and then went back to my place. It was late, so Long Board was going to drive back to his home the next morning. We hauled our luggage inside, took in a deep breath, and let out a shared sigh of relief that we were home. We both mentioned that we had a great vacation, but that it’s nice to just be home.

We put my new sheets on the bed (thanks LB!) and settled in.

So of course, that’s when it happened.

And I failed in the response department. Miserably.

Just before he did it, I realized it was coming. He fumbled his first attempt, though I admit that I had a bit of a hand in pushing it away….

LB: Know what I’m thinking right now?

TG: Nope.

LB: Oh. Just thinking of saying something….

TG: You say some pretty weird shit sometimes when you’re about to fall asleep, so I have no clue.

Lie.

Because it was at that point that I knew EXACTLY what was coming my way. So I took another deep breath and tried to prepare myself. But I couldn’t. There was no way that the next three minutes could prepare me for something I haven’t been ready to do in nearly a decade.

Which is why when he finally said it, I did a less than stellar job of receiving it.

Sure, I hugged him extra. I cuddled up closer than I was. I looked up at him and gave him a little kiss. But I didn’t do the one thing that you’re really supposed to do:

Say it back!

After a couple minutes, I mumbled something like, “You too kid,” but that’s not the same. The impact isn’t the same. The words….they’re not the same.

But that’s all he got.

Every night we’ve been together since then I tried to get it out the right way. Using the real words. But every night something got in the way.

Then one night I thought, “I have to do it already. No more stalling or messing around.”

And it wasn’t just that I felt like I had to tell him, I wanted to. I just really didn’t know how. Which is probably why the night ended up like this:

TG: Hey LB.

LB: Huh? What? Yeah?

CLEARLY the man was sleeping, or just about.

TG: Oh, nevermind nothing.

LB: No, what?

TG: You’re sleeping don’t worry about it.

LB: I’m awake.

.

.

.

.

.

.

TG: Still awake?

LB: Mmmmhmmm.

Said in that way where he’s SOOOO not awake.

TG: Goodnight.

LB: Mmmhmmm.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

TG: Hey LB.

LB: Mmmmhmmm.

TG: You know I’m not real good at the talking about stuff, but you know I love you too, right?

LB: Mmmhmm.

All that to say….I said it, but am not a thousand percent sure he actually heard it. Or understood it. And I haven’t really said it since. I try, Lord knows I try, but darned if it’s not hard to do!!!

But I think we both know that we’re “there.” That we’re in long term land. That when I clean and reorganize my room tonight that I’ll probably leave a drawer clear for him (I have to make room every weekend anyway). That he’s said I can leave stuff at his place if I want. That I’m making him a key to my place – not as some big gesture, but mostly because when he drives to town he gets in around midnight and sometimes I’m sleeping, or because he leaves after I go to work.

That whether I can freely and easily drop L bombs, that they’re there. And that he’s dropping them back.

Today I ran across something that made me think of an old post I wrote. And since I don’t have the right words to say everything I’d like to about todays incident, I’ll repost my old post. And give you this basic rundown: It was about adoption reform. It was about crisis pregnancy center reform. It was about reform that I think needs to be made, and that perhaps, might lead to fewer adoptive placements. Of course, rather than look at the unethical actions taken by some crisis pregnancy centers that aid agencies in adoptive placements, we were told to look at Planned Parenthood and other similar places that are perhaps acting unethically in the other direction, pointing women unneccesarily towards abortion.

To be clear – if folks are acting unethically? It’s wrong. I don’t care if you’re pro-choice, pro-life, whatever labels folks are using today. Pro-choicers can be against people that unethically push abortions on women that don’t want them, and pro-lifers can be against people that unethically push for adoption.

It doesn’t have to be one or the other. And when we’re talking about one, we don’t need to employ the Bait and Switch. Which brings me to my old post:

The Old Bait and Switch

originally published April 19, 2008

Why is it when we want to discuss something the group being attacked automatically wants to bring up some other point in order to deflect the attention away?

Hold on, I’ll take a step back. Give an example.

Blessence Maternity has made an adoption T-shirt that some have found very offensive. Some don’t. I know that everyone is entitled to their own opinions, but there are some that refuse to even consider WHY others find it offensive. They just say that “It’s not” – as though their word is the be all, end all.

The Tee in question is a plain white tee that says: Adoption is the New Pregnant

To be honest, normally I don’t get all up in arms about this stuff. Because at face value I think what I think about it and realize that my opinion is probably going to take a backseat and move on. I actually tend to get the most heated and inspired to act when I read the comments that others have…when I realize how closed minded some of the people that support the shirt think. When I realize what kind of values the tee shirt must be reinforcing in order for these supporters to have their limited viewpoints. And that’s what gets me really standing behind my thoughts and opinions.

What are my thoughts you may wonder?

Okay, I get it. I get that shirts are fun and cool and there are a bunch of them out there for pregnant women and that “expecting” amoms want in on the fun. (Although I’ve never really been a fan of shirts with slogans on them anyway….I had a “FedUp” like “FedEx” shirt in the 7th grade that I thought was cool…but I was IN THE 7TH GRADE…but I digress).

So, let’s crank out some adoption friendly tee’s. I’ve seen the “Paper Pregnant” ones, and the “Grown in my heart, not under it” (although my daughter wasn’t just under my heart, she was most certainly in it, but I’ll let that one slide) and I’m all for it. Rock out! Wear yourself a shirt!

This shirt?…I don’t know, but “Adoption is the New Pregnant” implies that there is no pregnancy involved! Which we all know isn’t possible. We’re not talking Adoption from a Cabbage Patch here. There’s a pregnant woman! I WAS that pregnant woman!

And so, rather than talking about the shirt, here are some of the distractions that other commenters used:

A slap in the face to the birth mother??? The only problem I gather from that statement is that the woman who gave birth should somehow be exalted over the woman who is actually raising the child! I find that the most offensive of all.

Yeah, that’s more offensive…let’s talk about THAT injustice instead of the one that is the TOPIC OF THIS CONVERSATION.

I have seen way more offensive t-shirts than this.

Yep, so have I. And in another conversation we can talk about those. You don’t have to only pick THE most offensive shirt in the world to be against. Should we say, “Well, that’s not the most racist thing I’ve ever seen, so let’s just let that one slide…we’ll just deal with racism that’s worthy of it”?? Not me. No thanks.

It takes a self-less soul to open their homes to a child born by another and love them unconditionally. And mind you, putting a child up for adoption is a CHOICE. Once you give up your baby, you don’t get to make the rules anymore. To condemn anyone who actually loves and raises an otherwise unwanted child for wearing a t-shirt that honors an action that brings them joy is unwarranted and unfair. The idea behind the tee is great – adoptive moms SHOULD be celebrated and be able to SHOW too.

Really? Cause, no offense, but I thought it took someone that wanted to BE A PARENT! Apparently, not only do we not get to make the rules anymore, but we actually also signed away our rights to opinions and feelings (that must have been in the fine print on the TPR, cause I know a lot of firstmoms that must have missed that part).

I’d much rather see this shirt than the abortion shirt or the rape shirt.

Ah yes, again with the “it could be worse” theory….GREAT reasoning there!

Cheers to “sigh”! If she, as an adoptee, doesn’t find it offensive, well then isn’t it time for everyone else to lighten up?

Good call – if one person out of 76 commented, and mentioned that she’s an adoptee, then yeah, I think she should probably speak for the entire community don’t you? Well, especially if she agrees with your point….I wonder if she hadn’t…would the poster still have agreed so whole heartedly or was it just convenient this time around?

And so you see, it’s not the actual shirt that’s really the thing that gets me the most angry, or at least that inspires me to say anything or DO anything – it’s the REASONS that the people that like the shirt like the shirt!! Which to me means there’s something not right about that shirt.

But if we want to talk about the shirt, then let’s talk about the shirt. Because if your best reason for supporting the shirt is one of the aorementioned distractions, well I’m not buying it.

I know it’s not what he was talking about on The Colbert Report the other night, but in the words of Barack Obama: “Disctractions: You’re on notice!”

Again I’m going to tackle a question that Susie posed for me during our interview.

How does your status as a firstmom affect your conversations with people from different sides of the adoption triad?

Short answer? In lots and lots of very different ways.

In the beginning, I suppose I thought that sometimes I could just speak in Cyber-AdoptionLand as a person, and not solely as a first Mom. Three years later and I know that, for the most part, that isn’t true. Whether I always agree or not, it is assumed that I have a first Mom bias and often, my words are read that way. And that’s okay, but it has meant that I’ve needed to tailor my communication with some folks.

I admit, that I generally am the most confortable communicating with other first parents, specifically with other first Moms. I generally find that I can be the most relaxed and the least gaurded in these situations (though of course there are exceptions to every rule). However, even within the ranks of first Moms I do realize that we all haven’t walked the same path. My road on open adoption isn’t the same as a woman that placed during the Baby Snatch Era or women that are in closed adoptions. Our lives are different, our stories are different, and sometimes that means that the way we talk to each other is different.

But it’s not as different as communication with other sides of the triad.

With adoptees it’s very interesting. (And please know, this will be full of some generalizations….even as I typed the last sentence I cringed at myself knowing that I just lumped a very diverse group of people together. And I didn’t like it. But since I’m not trying to write a novel here, I ask for a little leeway just this once). I’m twenty-seven, and many of the adoptees with which I communicate are older than I am – or at least close in age, certainly too old to be an actual child of mine. Yet sometimes, our experiences create an environment where we have a Mother/child type of discussion. It’s a very interesting dynamic, and one that has taken some getting used to.

Off of that, my first Mom status has impacted my conversations with some adoptees as they may reflect their feelings about their own adoption or their own first parents onto me. There are some adoptees that have very negative feelings about adoption, which I don’t wish to negate or ignore. However, sometimes those feelings have been taken out on me, and I tend to be very aware of that possibility when communicating with adoptees.

Personally? I’m also rather tentative sometimes when it comes to communicating with adoptees. I don’t wish to offend or hurt and I’m aware that my words, and my past personal actions, may do that. For instance, I got really nervous about participating in the Primal Wound Book Tour - mostly because I didn’t want my words to offend folks, but particularly I didn’t want to offend adoptees.

With aparents…..well, I could probably write a whole post just about this particular communication.

Sometimes my first Mom status negates what I want to say; what I’m trying to say. Sometimes folks read what I have to say, know that I’m a first Mom, and brush it off as, “Well, of course you’d feel that way.” If there’s some debate about first parents rights and I defend first parents it’s seen as purely because that’s the side of the triad with which I identify, and not based on sound reasoning. My arguments (though I may think them sound) are sometimes ignored and not seen as valid.

Sometimes my first Mom status can be used as a way to legitimize what I’m saying. That I’ve been there, done that, and that I can be a resource to adoptive parents. Sometimes my first Mom status aids me in discussions because aparents can bounce ideas off of me. Most often, I find that my first Mom status helps when I’m talking to aparents and I give them ways of thinking outside of the box. When I show them who I am as a first Mom, and when I can talk openly about how I feel, what life is like for me post placement, and when that opens their eyes to thinking about their children’s first parents in different ways.

And that is always very cool.

And mind you, these are just a fraction of the ways that I think my being a first Mom affects these conversations….but they truly are many and varied.

But the one thing I’ve learned hands down, is that for the most part my being a first Mom DOES affect the conversations. And I think it’s important that I don’t forget that.

I promised Susie that I would answer the Great Interview Experiment questions that I didn’t get to over on her blog, on my blog. Which I fully intend to do….but first I’m going to re-answer one of the questions she posed….because I’ve already re-thought it.

If you found out you were pregnant today, what would you do?

Parent, parent, parent, parent, parent.

I always said after I placed Cupcake that I would not place my next child for adoption. It’s too much. Too hard. Too emotional. It often feels overwhelming being in just one open adoption….worrying about birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, potential visit dates. And I know I couldn’t handle two open adoptions. Some might say, “well, another adoption wouldn’t have to be an open adoption,” to which I would respond: “Yes it does. And it would be legally binding.”

Anyway….where was I? Oh yes, I would parent.

That wasn’t always my answer though. There have absolutely been times post Cupcake’s placement where my answer would be “Parent or have an abortion.” But today? Today I’m in a good relationship (albeit a quasi long distance one) with a good man that would make a great Father.

Plus, we’ve already picked out baby names, but that’s another story!

 

So this was a really easy hypothetical answer. I would parent. Long Board and I would have this happy little kid and we’d be the picture of parental perfection – albeit having that baby out of wedlock and all that judgy jazz.

And then I was a day and a half late (yes, half days count).

And then that neat little answer that I had all wrapped up with a bow seemed ridiculous! How could I have so very recently sounded so sure of my plans should I be pregnant? Yes, Long Board would be an amazing Father, and he’s gone out of his way to show that to me the past few weeks as we’ve been around more kids…..but still.

There was this teeny tiny part of me that thought I could just “take care of it” and he wouldn’t have to know and it wouldn’t throw this huge wrench in this great thing that we’re working on. We’d save those baby names (we have two for girls and one for a boy ready) for a baby that we planned on having and he’d still be able to look at me without thinking about the gut wrenching decision we had to make.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to make any of those decisions either. I was just a day and a half late.

But it just served to remind me, that we can think we’re so sure in our plans, in ourselves, until reality shakes us up. We can say what we’d do during an unplanned pregnancy, but until you’re there, it’s so impossible to truly know. We can sit as women in our late twenties, our thirties, beyond, with jobs and homes and in good relationships and forget….forget what it’s like to be younger, without the job, without a solid relationship, trying to get out of our parents house and staring at a stick with a smiley face mocking your predicament.