Today I've been giving more thought to the "special needs" part of special needs adoption. The most common relatively easy ones seem to be cleft lip/cleft palate and heart defects, of the easily repaired and already repaired variety or sometimes of the needing more surgery variety, especially for younger babies. Then we have premature birth, spina bifida, varying degrees of developmental problems and so-called limb differences--oh, and "ambiguous genitalia". Bringing up the rear in terms of things I can remember at the moment is albinism--oh, and other skin issues, which I assume to include birthmarks--and burn scars.
That's quite the list. It all reminds me a little of that popular parlor game, "Which Disability Would You Rather Have"--which usually starts with drunken questions like "Would you rather be blind or deaf?" and "Would you rather lose an arm or a leg?" and generally goes on from there, only with two especially bleak additions: the disabilty, if that's what it is (I know some of those needs aren't disabilities) goes to your child, and the children alredy exist. You've got skin in the game, as it were.
So our list of things we can cope with probably tends towards the usual, with an emphasis on short term and resolvable issues, and maybe a slight extra willingness with respect to things that are going to require additional medical care, like heart defects--but only the ones that are considered fixable, and I can't say I've thought too much about the fact that that's really not a 100% guarantee. Certainly I should. And I will. I don't want my zeal to be a good AP, one who genuinely wants to adopt a child who needs us and, in some sense, not take the opportunity to adopt a child away from someone childless--to haul us blindly into something that will clearly be too much for us to handle and continue giving the BGB three what they need.
So I got to thinking today about ambiguous genitalia and about "limb differences". To address the second first, I had included on my prelimary form to the agency limb differences not affecting mobility--and I think I/we should rethink that. (In all honesty I filled out the form myself, after discussion but not enough of it.) So, follwing a great add for cars, of all things, that's been running in all kinds of magazines and features a beautiful fit young woman with an artificial leg, and thinking again about all the opportunities here for a child with only one leg to get that kind of treatment, and also to learn to ski and play and generally just get on with life, I had to wonder--maybe we could do that. I have to look into it.
I'm iffy on the one arm (as I've said before, you don't really know yourself until you think about this stuff) because that's less easy to--not hide, but tuck away--and also I think might actually impact your life more, and I'm not sure that I can either deal with that myself, as a parent, or help a child learn to deal with it. And I'm not saying one should hide one's disabilities, but that it's nice to be able to choose not to reveal them constantly, especially if you are a child whose status as an adoptee is going to be nearly always on view.
As for ambiguous genitalia, I don't have time to meditate fully now, but I read
this piece in the New York Times magazine and it made me think.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
RIght Back Atcha!
Our i-600a came back today. Apparently I mailed it to the wrong office. As of April 1, it's a whole different form and possibly more complex process. So it goes out again tomorrow, overnight.
But the office is in Boston, and at least one website says Massachusetts won't let you file the form without the homestudy. But there's nothing I can do about that, it might be wrong, might as well put it back into play!
But the office is in Boston, and at least one website says Massachusetts won't let you file the form without the homestudy. But there's nothing I can do about that, it might be wrong, might as well put it back into play!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Athletic Support
Bart must decide between soccer and baseball this spring. He's six, and it seems like you should be able to learn both, but no, soccer takes three days a week and baseball two--both on the same two weekdays, too. But not at the same time! Ooh, we could do both!
No.
I like soccer, because it's after school, as opposed to at dinner, and there's running around. Poptart likes baseball on the grounds that it's harder to learn and more important to learn young. (Not that you see him out there tossing the ball around with Bart, because a) he does not have time and b) there is too much critique involved and Bart does not enjoy it and therefore does not want to do it after the first ten minutes.)
I don't really care, although I do resent the idea that sports take place at dinner time at six. I mean, older, I know this is going to happen, but SIX? How are we going to protest that if we participate, and does he have any idea what it's going to be like sitting there at dinnertime with Gert and Beau and waiting for baseball to end? Oh, I'll pick him up, Poptart says, and I say yeah, right, and then we fight. But he probably will, mostly some of the time anyway, and I could go home and not stay and watch, thus probably scarring Bart for life because of my lack of interest. Poptart will show up for the last ten minutes and then tell Bart everything he did wrong. (Sports are going to be an issue for our family, it's just the way it's going to be. Probably the worst one we've got. There's the way any given child does it, and there's perfect: i.e. the way the child should do it. Wild, natural enthusiasm and immediate talent are all that will be acceptable. Poptart claims all men are like this and that being told what you are doing wrong is the only way to learn.)
OK, so the real point--I told Bart to talk to his father about which sport to play. The deadline for baseball is Thursday. Every time I bring it up to Poptart he bites my head off. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to talk about it.
Well, they've got one more night with baseball as a possibility. I want to not bring it up again to punish Poptart for being a jerk about it (Even though we're on day six of the parents Granola and I should probably concede that that makes him testy, in fact it was making me testy tonight, about which more later, but they leave tomorrow). But that would punish Bart too.
Of all things to be a nag about...baseball and soccer. As far as I'm concerned he could take the spring off and just play in the yard.
Grrrr.
No.
I like soccer, because it's after school, as opposed to at dinner, and there's running around. Poptart likes baseball on the grounds that it's harder to learn and more important to learn young. (Not that you see him out there tossing the ball around with Bart, because a) he does not have time and b) there is too much critique involved and Bart does not enjoy it and therefore does not want to do it after the first ten minutes.)
I don't really care, although I do resent the idea that sports take place at dinner time at six. I mean, older, I know this is going to happen, but SIX? How are we going to protest that if we participate, and does he have any idea what it's going to be like sitting there at dinnertime with Gert and Beau and waiting for baseball to end? Oh, I'll pick him up, Poptart says, and I say yeah, right, and then we fight. But he probably will, mostly some of the time anyway, and I could go home and not stay and watch, thus probably scarring Bart for life because of my lack of interest. Poptart will show up for the last ten minutes and then tell Bart everything he did wrong. (Sports are going to be an issue for our family, it's just the way it's going to be. Probably the worst one we've got. There's the way any given child does it, and there's perfect: i.e. the way the child should do it. Wild, natural enthusiasm and immediate talent are all that will be acceptable. Poptart claims all men are like this and that being told what you are doing wrong is the only way to learn.)
OK, so the real point--I told Bart to talk to his father about which sport to play. The deadline for baseball is Thursday. Every time I bring it up to Poptart he bites my head off. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to talk about it.
Well, they've got one more night with baseball as a possibility. I want to not bring it up again to punish Poptart for being a jerk about it (Even though we're on day six of the parents Granola and I should probably concede that that makes him testy, in fact it was making me testy tonight, about which more later, but they leave tomorrow). But that would punish Bart too.
Of all things to be a nag about...baseball and soccer. As far as I'm concerned he could take the spring off and just play in the yard.
Grrrr.
Monday, March 24, 2008
The Benefit of Many Other Things to Think About
The parents Granola continue their visit. Gert is under the weather--or fooling us into thinking she is due to her desire to stay home with Grandma and Grandpa. Which one we think is happening depends entirely on how recently she's had ibuprofin, so I'm thinking she's really at least a little sick...
We applied to the local independent (read: private) school for Bart. One slot open for second grade, and we found out today that it's his if we want it--which puts the ball squarely into our court. On the one side, small classes, personal attention, classic education featuring actual facts, spelling, math practice, tests, a feeling of being able to let go massive amounts of focus on child's education and assume those are in the hands of professionals. Also, major financial commitment (remember we're planning to have four of these little educable creatures soon). leaving the community schools, putting an additional badge of privilege on a child in a pretty privileged community, plenty of pressure to succeed (although only through eighth grade), risking alienating some of our neighbors, no more happy mornings at sing-along on Wednesdays and having to pack lunch daily--oh, and no bus.
On the other side, most of our community. Teachers willing to let child follow interests. possibly less homework, busses, lunch service, community, free, community, did I say free?
I'd really like to pack him up and send him to this nice, friendly little school. They must work hard but the kids seem relaxed and happy. Our community is, in all honesty, so privileged that I'm not sure anything we can do could make it much worse--I mean, we are really pretty removed from a major chunk of reality. Exposure to most of the real world of poverty, desperation, hatred born of those things and otherwise, struggling to find work, food, medical care--it's going to come through travel and education at either school. All the kids--even the future Mei Zie--could be there together for at least a year or two. We would know the community, the kids, what's going on without putting a huge effort into it.
I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the tuition, though, and especially now. FInancial life feels very precarious. This is a big burden to add.
So although I'm about to go downstairs and fill out a form and put stamp on a check, I DO have other things on my mind!
We applied to the local independent (read: private) school for Bart. One slot open for second grade, and we found out today that it's his if we want it--which puts the ball squarely into our court. On the one side, small classes, personal attention, classic education featuring actual facts, spelling, math practice, tests, a feeling of being able to let go massive amounts of focus on child's education and assume those are in the hands of professionals. Also, major financial commitment (remember we're planning to have four of these little educable creatures soon). leaving the community schools, putting an additional badge of privilege on a child in a pretty privileged community, plenty of pressure to succeed (although only through eighth grade), risking alienating some of our neighbors, no more happy mornings at sing-along on Wednesdays and having to pack lunch daily--oh, and no bus.
On the other side, most of our community. Teachers willing to let child follow interests. possibly less homework, busses, lunch service, community, free, community, did I say free?
I'd really like to pack him up and send him to this nice, friendly little school. They must work hard but the kids seem relaxed and happy. Our community is, in all honesty, so privileged that I'm not sure anything we can do could make it much worse--I mean, we are really pretty removed from a major chunk of reality. Exposure to most of the real world of poverty, desperation, hatred born of those things and otherwise, struggling to find work, food, medical care--it's going to come through travel and education at either school. All the kids--even the future Mei Zie--could be there together for at least a year or two. We would know the community, the kids, what's going on without putting a huge effort into it.
I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the tuition, though, and especially now. FInancial life feels very precarious. This is a big burden to add.
So although I'm about to go downstairs and fill out a form and put stamp on a check, I DO have other things on my mind!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter!
We don't actually do Easter, in the church sense. We do more the pagan spring celebration-style stuff--being, as we are, a mixed-religious background household of current atheists--a designation that's ever-changing, as it happens. Well, not the background. You can't change the fact that Poptart was raised Jewish and I was raised by lapsed Catholics with the recurring conviction, gathered from overheard comments, that I was not allowed to participate in any religious activities and that all church-related stuff was strictly verboten (and rather glamourous in my eyes). I later found out that the priest had solicited contributions at my sister's funeral and that my father, at least, had given up all religion then and there. My mother went agreeably to please her parents--or her mother, rather-when we visited and it never seemed to be a really big issue.
More than anyone needs to know, that. In any case it's all about the Easter Bunny here, with a pleasant disregard for whether he's real or not, because even with an almost 7-year-old in the house we're really just not that sophisticated. Although we did have a moment--there were change purses in the baskets with small amounts of change in them, and I referred to "the money your grandma gave you for Easter". Oops. But then I just said that I though Grandma had given them the money to put in the purses, and Bart said no, it was in there when they got them, and that was the end of it--or so I think. I don't really care if they believe in the Easter Bunny, actually, although I'd like to keep Santa going for a while. Poptart refuses to participate in any of it, out of respect, he claims, for his cultural upbringing, which he insists also included a refusal to participate in anything Valentine's related "because it's St. Valentine's day". I think "because that way I don't have to put up trees or hide baskets" would be more accurate!
Gert has the cutest basket--it looks like a big pink peep bunny. I can't wait to buy a yellow one, or maybe the yellow chick, for Four. I wonder what is Mandarin for four? I think I'll find out and start calling her that, or Mei Mei for little sister.
More than anyone needs to know, that. In any case it's all about the Easter Bunny here, with a pleasant disregard for whether he's real or not, because even with an almost 7-year-old in the house we're really just not that sophisticated. Although we did have a moment--there were change purses in the baskets with small amounts of change in them, and I referred to "the money your grandma gave you for Easter". Oops. But then I just said that I though Grandma had given them the money to put in the purses, and Bart said no, it was in there when they got them, and that was the end of it--or so I think. I don't really care if they believe in the Easter Bunny, actually, although I'd like to keep Santa going for a while. Poptart refuses to participate in any of it, out of respect, he claims, for his cultural upbringing, which he insists also included a refusal to participate in anything Valentine's related "because it's St. Valentine's day". I think "because that way I don't have to put up trees or hide baskets" would be more accurate!
Gert has the cutest basket--it looks like a big pink peep bunny. I can't wait to buy a yellow one, or maybe the yellow chick, for Four. I wonder what is Mandarin for four? I think I'll find out and start calling her that, or Mei Mei for little sister.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
i-600a: Mailed. Obsessing: Temporarily on Hold for Fabulous Parental Visit
So that's done. I am left with nothing but a receipt, a copy and a lingering sense that I have either forgotten something or mailed it to the wrong processing address, but there's nothing I can do about that!
Which is a good thing, because the Parents Granola are here, and we haven't announced yet. We have every confidence in their being right on board with this program once it's rolling--and in fact I'm hoping that when we travel, they will come with us--but Grandpa Granola is a notorious second-guesser, worrier and parade-rainer, and even felt that the production of Beau (before the arrival of the much-loved Beau himself) might be too much for his Lola, already overwhelmed with babycare and scarcely recognizable as the go-getter he put through law school. (Successful freelancing and the publication of my book have eased that particular worry, too.)
So we're going to hold off, because we also haven't told the three yet (too long to wait, to many "ifs"). In fact we've told a total of three people. Poptart unexpectedly announced to our closest friends early in the process (which worked out well as it allowed us to go over that list, that awful list, with Dr. J) and I told a friend who's on the infertility train and looking this way.
Why not, you ask? Why not tell people, why not tell everyone? I've thought about that a lot too, and here it is: I'm so excited to tell people that I want to really enjoy it. I want to savor knowing before everyone else (shades of the first trimester!) and I want to be able to tell them, when I do tell them, we ARE doing it, here's who we're doing it with, our paperwork is done, our dossier in progress! In fact I may not even tell until we have a referral (although I can't believe I will be able to wait that long...plus we're going to have to explain those Mandarin lessons somehow!) (Seriously. Poptart has always wanted the kids and us to learn Mandarin. I had to convince him not to start Bart in kindergarden, and apparently I was wrong!)
So that's why.
Meanwhile, a good chance to breathe--everything I can do is in train, anyway. If the Homeland application comes tomorrow (and I really hope it will) I will fill it out and flip it back to them faster than you can say Xingfu!, but other than that, I'm going to enjoy my parents and the kids and a good weekend. Plus Beau's birthday party and Easter. So it's not like we're not busy!
Which is a good thing, because the Parents Granola are here, and we haven't announced yet. We have every confidence in their being right on board with this program once it's rolling--and in fact I'm hoping that when we travel, they will come with us--but Grandpa Granola is a notorious second-guesser, worrier and parade-rainer, and even felt that the production of Beau (before the arrival of the much-loved Beau himself) might be too much for his Lola, already overwhelmed with babycare and scarcely recognizable as the go-getter he put through law school. (Successful freelancing and the publication of my book have eased that particular worry, too.)
So we're going to hold off, because we also haven't told the three yet (too long to wait, to many "ifs"). In fact we've told a total of three people. Poptart unexpectedly announced to our closest friends early in the process (which worked out well as it allowed us to go over that list, that awful list, with Dr. J) and I told a friend who's on the infertility train and looking this way.
Why not, you ask? Why not tell people, why not tell everyone? I've thought about that a lot too, and here it is: I'm so excited to tell people that I want to really enjoy it. I want to savor knowing before everyone else (shades of the first trimester!) and I want to be able to tell them, when I do tell them, we ARE doing it, here's who we're doing it with, our paperwork is done, our dossier in progress! In fact I may not even tell until we have a referral (although I can't believe I will be able to wait that long...plus we're going to have to explain those Mandarin lessons somehow!) (Seriously. Poptart has always wanted the kids and us to learn Mandarin. I had to convince him not to start Bart in kindergarden, and apparently I was wrong!)
So that's why.
Meanwhile, a good chance to breathe--everything I can do is in train, anyway. If the Homeland application comes tomorrow (and I really hope it will) I will fill it out and flip it back to them faster than you can say Xingfu!, but other than that, I'm going to enjoy my parents and the kids and a good weekend. Plus Beau's birthday party and Easter. So it's not like we're not busy!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Decisions--Preliminary. And one filled-out i-600a.
I think the Homeland Agency, and its Xingfu program, are right for us if they will work with us. I loved the sense that these people, with all of their depths of knowledge and experience, would be interested in getting to know us as a family, would know the children involved, if not personally then at least in the sense of really knowing where they come from--and would want to match us with Four. I could say more, and I will, but I am going to wait to apply to them and be sure that it works out. I have talked to other agencies and other possibilities--CHI being one I liked very much, with the advantage of working in our area--and I think I need to see how that plays out.
Filled out the big i-600a last night, got all the copies made, everything ready to go: And left it to sit until tonight. For one thing, it's never a bad idea to give something like that a second look before you send it. For another...well, it's a big step. But all I have felt all day is anxious to get it in the mail!
Poptart earned big points today by proposing, out of the blue, that if this happens we will need a lot more housekeeping help. Now that, gentlemen, is the kind of talk that gets a girl hot! (Aas my friends the authors of Finding the Doorbell would say, "it's the little things that get you laid!")
Filled out the big i-600a last night, got all the copies made, everything ready to go: And left it to sit until tonight. For one thing, it's never a bad idea to give something like that a second look before you send it. For another...well, it's a big step. But all I have felt all day is anxious to get it in the mail!
Poptart earned big points today by proposing, out of the blue, that if this happens we will need a lot more housekeeping help. Now that, gentlemen, is the kind of talk that gets a girl hot! (Aas my friends the authors of Finding the Doorbell would say, "it's the little things that get you laid!")
Monday, March 17, 2008
Progress, such as it is!
Ooh...exchanged messages with actual agencies and social workers today. I usually work "in town" (we live in a very small college town) while Gert is in school if Beau has a sitter, because I have to pick her up anyway, and I find the laundry and such shriek too loudly at me if I work at home. But I can scarcely call home study agencies from a table in the bookstore!
So I set up in a group study room at the college library. They are on spring break and the going was easy and the wireless strong and free.
I admit to calling my favorite possibility, the XingFu program in NYC, twice. Three times today, actually, but once was returning a call, I swear! Now I suspect they think I am crazy adoption stalker girl.
I hesitated for a minute before I dialed that first number. Calling is so much more real than emailing, or even joining a Yahoo group. It's calling. It's real. It's the first real step towards the part where the process takes over, and you'd have to take affirmative steps to stop the train. Are we really ready to fill out forms and sign checks and have social workers in our house?
Two things: One, I asked Poptart tonight not to tell Mom and Pop Granola about the crazy plan, henceforth referred to as Operation Four. He agreed without question, but I still explained: I have this feeling they will rain on my parade.
He nodded and kept eating Beau's birthday cake.
"How about you? Thinking of drizzling?"
"Nope."
"I guess that makes it our parade, then."
And I guess it does. The second thing? I'm awfully happy lately. Patient with the kids, bubbly, brimming with good cheer. A bit nervous, anxious, given to moments of this-is-all-out-of-my-control panic, but overall happy and...expectant. Which definitely told me something!
So I set up in a group study room at the college library. They are on spring break and the going was easy and the wireless strong and free.
I admit to calling my favorite possibility, the XingFu program in NYC, twice. Three times today, actually, but once was returning a call, I swear! Now I suspect they think I am crazy adoption stalker girl.
I hesitated for a minute before I dialed that first number. Calling is so much more real than emailing, or even joining a Yahoo group. It's calling. It's real. It's the first real step towards the part where the process takes over, and you'd have to take affirmative steps to stop the train. Are we really ready to fill out forms and sign checks and have social workers in our house?
Two things: One, I asked Poptart tonight not to tell Mom and Pop Granola about the crazy plan, henceforth referred to as Operation Four. He agreed without question, but I still explained: I have this feeling they will rain on my parade.
He nodded and kept eating Beau's birthday cake.
"How about you? Thinking of drizzling?"
"Nope."
"I guess that makes it our parade, then."
And I guess it does. The second thing? I'm awfully happy lately. Patient with the kids, bubbly, brimming with good cheer. A bit nervous, anxious, given to moments of this-is-all-out-of-my-control panic, but overall happy and...expectant. Which definitely told me something!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Beau's Birthday!
He's two today, and we had a golden day of happy brothers and sisters, balloons, presents...the kind of day that makes my heart sing "Four! Four!" over and over again.
I am so ignoring the negatives of this. It isn't going to be easy. Four won't like us at first, she won't even speak our language--and she's going to have her own medical issues, whatever those are. I'll have to spend a lot of time with her. Beau, sweet as he is, isn't going to like that one bit and Gertie even less. It is NOT going to be like picking up precisely the Four we would have bourne and raised ourselves and picking up wherever she is age-wise.
And the senior Lolas--my parents--are going to think we are crazy-loco and say so, again and again and again.
But I want to do this, I do. I am sure there will be moments when we think "what were we thinking"--I have those moments about the kids we have--but can you imagine it as something you'd regret, for real? I mean, I guess so, if there's some really true disaster. Let us say for example that she has bird flu and we all die. That would be bad. I think even I can manage not to worry about that one, though.
Otherwise, in general, I find the things I regret are the things I don't do.
So, tomorrow's plan: Call five agencies. Two, in particular--one, really--I'm very excited about. They have both been granted pilot programs to help with all of the special needs adoptions from a particular region, and do exactly what I want--which is to match the family with the child, rather than expecting the family to do the matching. One seems to be a good agency with multiple interesting programs and waiting children, and the other two are local and do homestudies. I've been warned away from one, though, so I will have to be especially careful--because they are by far the most convenient option.
I really want that first agency--they're in NYC, too, so we could even meet them in a few weeks--to work out. I really, really do. I have been googling them really hard and have foung no warning signs...yet! But they may have thousands of people clamoring to sign up, for all I know.
Let me just add a thought I had about Bart today. If he weren't the kid he is--helpful, thoughtful, loving, golden--there is absolutely no way we would be doing this. None. Someday I hope to tell him that.
I am so ignoring the negatives of this. It isn't going to be easy. Four won't like us at first, she won't even speak our language--and she's going to have her own medical issues, whatever those are. I'll have to spend a lot of time with her. Beau, sweet as he is, isn't going to like that one bit and Gertie even less. It is NOT going to be like picking up precisely the Four we would have bourne and raised ourselves and picking up wherever she is age-wise.
And the senior Lolas--my parents--are going to think we are crazy-loco and say so, again and again and again.
But I want to do this, I do. I am sure there will be moments when we think "what were we thinking"--I have those moments about the kids we have--but can you imagine it as something you'd regret, for real? I mean, I guess so, if there's some really true disaster. Let us say for example that she has bird flu and we all die. That would be bad. I think even I can manage not to worry about that one, though.
Otherwise, in general, I find the things I regret are the things I don't do.
So, tomorrow's plan: Call five agencies. Two, in particular--one, really--I'm very excited about. They have both been granted pilot programs to help with all of the special needs adoptions from a particular region, and do exactly what I want--which is to match the family with the child, rather than expecting the family to do the matching. One seems to be a good agency with multiple interesting programs and waiting children, and the other two are local and do homestudies. I've been warned away from one, though, so I will have to be especially careful--because they are by far the most convenient option.
I really want that first agency--they're in NYC, too, so we could even meet them in a few weeks--to work out. I really, really do. I have been googling them really hard and have foung no warning signs...yet! But they may have thousands of people clamoring to sign up, for all I know.
Let me just add a thought I had about Bart today. If he weren't the kid he is--helpful, thoughtful, loving, golden--there is absolutely no way we would be doing this. None. Someday I hope to tell him that.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Process Angst Continues
Today I had an actual email exhange with an actial agency representative that was both very helpful and somewhat disappointing. I emailed her to get a password to review their "waiting children", knowing that I am so far from adopting existing "waiting child" that I might as well be on mars. I was just trying to get a sense of who was waiting, I guess. And she very kindly let me do just that--BUT rained on my parade a bit. "Waiting children" with minor special needs are very hot with parents who just want to speed up the process, is essentially what she said, and especially girls, and if I really want to adopt a child who might not otherwise be adopted we should adopt...a boy.
Now, I think I'm open to more special needs than she probably thought. But the thing is, I really DO want a girl. I just DO!
So anyway, the big question remains but I think it's on its way to being answered: "Sign with" an agency and wait for a referral or surf while doing paperwork on one's own. I don't think I can cope with that. Too much surfing, too much riding on me, nobody in my court and NO HELP WITH THE PAPERWORK!
Looking, now, while still really making this decision if I'm honest, for an agency that 1) lets one consider sn kids from different countries at the same time, 2) refers rather than putting them up on a list and 3) gets lots and lots of referrals from China, still my first love, so much so that I might abandon 1 and just roll with it.
Now, I think I'm open to more special needs than she probably thought. But the thing is, I really DO want a girl. I just DO!
So anyway, the big question remains but I think it's on its way to being answered: "Sign with" an agency and wait for a referral or surf while doing paperwork on one's own. I don't think I can cope with that. Too much surfing, too much riding on me, nobody in my court and NO HELP WITH THE PAPERWORK!
Looking, now, while still really making this decision if I'm honest, for an agency that 1) lets one consider sn kids from different countries at the same time, 2) refers rather than putting them up on a list and 3) gets lots and lots of referrals from China, still my first love, so much so that I might abandon 1 and just roll with it.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Today's project: Group Research!
I'm typing this with Gertie on my lap, so it will be brief. Today's action, besides the inevitable thought process: Joining groups. A list, with little information, below. Fortunately they're pretty self-explanatory, since it's not even my right hand!
Waiting Children in China
Adoption Agency Research
Adopting from Taiwan
Adopting from China
I like to think It's not so much that I'm flaky--which is to say, hey, three days into the process and you're all "special needs China"?--as it is that I let things mull sround in my head while I'm doing other things. And the thing about this is that I can't figure out what the next step is. It seems like one ought to look at Waiting Children from more than one agency--so what do you do before you have that agency to guide you? I'm going to go read Taiwan Lucy to find out.
Waiting Children in China
Adoption Agency Research
Adopting from Taiwan
Adopting from China
I like to think It's not so much that I'm flaky--which is to say, hey, three days into the process and you're all "special needs China"?--as it is that I let things mull sround in my head while I'm doing other things. And the thing about this is that I can't figure out what the next step is. It seems like one ought to look at Waiting Children from more than one agency--so what do you do before you have that agency to guide you? I'm going to go read Taiwan Lucy to find out.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Agency Research and More Awful Truths
OK. There are a LOT of adoption agencies. A LOT. What I need is to suddenly discover that I know someone really well who is either in the middle of this process or just starting it who can just tell me what to do. I'm a big piggy-backer. That's invariably how I find my doctors. I choose a friend I know will overthink and just generally beat the hell out of the horse, and then I do what they do. Worked with pregnancy stuff too--I didn't even have to read any books (not that I didn't--I have two books on adoption already--I love books.)
There are so many decisions to make here--and they affect who our child is. I mean, it could be child A if we go with this agency, or child B if this one--it's terrifying. Like having the option to change flights at the last minute. But what if this one crashes? What if that one crashes? AAAH! Forks in the road!! AAAH!
We are talking hundreds of agencies. Hundreds. Thousands even. Probably the more I overthink, the worse it is. We need a good agency. We need one we like. We need one who will bring us Four. The other terrifying thing is: Four may already have been born. She may be out there, right now. Without us.
So this is freaky. How am I going to do this? Find the ones on Yahoo's Adoption Agency Research group that no one can find anything bad about (WACAP, for example). Narrow it down, I guess. Then figure out if we want a baby or a "waiting child: and go from there.
Which brings me to Awful Truths part 2: Defects I consider acceptable for Four. There are checklists for this. Heart condition? Club foot? Unpronounceable Mystery Disease? I mean, this is the kind of thing that forces you to really look yourself in the face.I would love and care for Bart, Gertie or Beau no matter what happened to them or what they look like. Without a doubt or fraction of hesitation. Poptart too. But to ask for it? To say, Problems? Bring 'em on, baby! Well there's a limit to how much we can do that. Financial resources--we've got 'em. Emotional Resources? Time? Can't buy those.
So there are limits. But an "sn" (that's special needs to the uninitiated, like me 24 hours ago) really needs us. Part of me remains unconvinced that any of these other babies does. There are lines, queues, lists of people clamoring to take them on. Scandals about whether they've really been willingly given up, about whether people in their own country might not be more than willing to adopt them but less able to pay, like those raised at (China-Research.org.
But what can we cope with? Correctable heart condition? Open heart surgery, wow, whoa, wow...Ptosis? Well, that turned out to be droopy eyelids. Sure--but can that really be a problem for anyone? Who ARE these people? Same with "port wine stains". Extra toes. I can't believe those really count. Aren't they just what people are trolling the waiting child lists looking for--this one's a little damaged but completely fixable, and I can get it faster! And isn't that really what I'm thinking? I don't want to wait 3 years for Four. Beau will be 5 by then. She'll have missed the chance to be part of the pack. It's valid, it's a good reason to make this happen sometime in the next eighteen months...but cruising the "photolists" looking for one who isn't too bad makes me feel weird. And here's a big one: cleft lip and palate. OH, dear. I mean, assuming that the child could eat ok--that it has been cared for and as well nourished as possible given the circs--this is just cosmetic, right? And largely fixable...but it's weird. And kids who look weird have it rough. Can I cope with that? Or does it get pretty much all the way fixed? I mean, everyone I know who had it, I know because you can still tell. But those are adults. OOH, how shallow am I? Don't comment and curse me for being unsure about this. Educate me. Seriously. Because I know a pediatric plastic surgeon well and I'm really thinking about this, because he could help and we could get Four right when she'd fit in and really be getting Four, not a baby who would have gone to the next couple on the list.
There are so many decisions to make here--and they affect who our child is. I mean, it could be child A if we go with this agency, or child B if this one--it's terrifying. Like having the option to change flights at the last minute. But what if this one crashes? What if that one crashes? AAAH! Forks in the road!! AAAH!
We are talking hundreds of agencies. Hundreds. Thousands even. Probably the more I overthink, the worse it is. We need a good agency. We need one we like. We need one who will bring us Four. The other terrifying thing is: Four may already have been born. She may be out there, right now. Without us.
So this is freaky. How am I going to do this? Find the ones on Yahoo's Adoption Agency Research group that no one can find anything bad about (WACAP, for example). Narrow it down, I guess. Then figure out if we want a baby or a "waiting child: and go from there.
Which brings me to Awful Truths part 2: Defects I consider acceptable for Four. There are checklists for this. Heart condition? Club foot? Unpronounceable Mystery Disease? I mean, this is the kind of thing that forces you to really look yourself in the face.I would love and care for Bart, Gertie or Beau no matter what happened to them or what they look like. Without a doubt or fraction of hesitation. Poptart too. But to ask for it? To say, Problems? Bring 'em on, baby! Well there's a limit to how much we can do that. Financial resources--we've got 'em. Emotional Resources? Time? Can't buy those.
So there are limits. But an "sn" (that's special needs to the uninitiated, like me 24 hours ago) really needs us. Part of me remains unconvinced that any of these other babies does. There are lines, queues, lists of people clamoring to take them on. Scandals about whether they've really been willingly given up, about whether people in their own country might not be more than willing to adopt them but less able to pay, like those raised at (China-Research.org.
But what can we cope with? Correctable heart condition? Open heart surgery, wow, whoa, wow...Ptosis? Well, that turned out to be droopy eyelids. Sure--but can that really be a problem for anyone? Who ARE these people? Same with "port wine stains". Extra toes. I can't believe those really count. Aren't they just what people are trolling the waiting child lists looking for--this one's a little damaged but completely fixable, and I can get it faster! And isn't that really what I'm thinking? I don't want to wait 3 years for Four. Beau will be 5 by then. She'll have missed the chance to be part of the pack. It's valid, it's a good reason to make this happen sometime in the next eighteen months...but cruising the "photolists" looking for one who isn't too bad makes me feel weird. And here's a big one: cleft lip and palate. OH, dear. I mean, assuming that the child could eat ok--that it has been cared for and as well nourished as possible given the circs--this is just cosmetic, right? And largely fixable...but it's weird. And kids who look weird have it rough. Can I cope with that? Or does it get pretty much all the way fixed? I mean, everyone I know who had it, I know because you can still tell. But those are adults. OOH, how shallow am I? Don't comment and curse me for being unsure about this. Educate me. Seriously. Because I know a pediatric plastic surgeon well and I'm really thinking about this, because he could help and we could get Four right when she'd fit in and really be getting Four, not a baby who would have gone to the next couple on the list.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Action (part one). Also, Ugly Truths about Me!
Cooler heads have not prevailed. The current plan is for uncommited forward movement--researching countries, agencies, pros, cons...while both allowing the inner gut check full reign. Time to admits some hope truths. Here's one for me--I don't think I can raise an African child--oh, fine, let's be less politically correct--a black kid. I suspect, that, like most people, I make racial judgments (and let me just say here that I've actually taken one of those tests where pictures flash in front of you and you register positive or negative thought as fast as I can and my results were that I'm not racist, but I do seem to be a Bush-hating democrat...)
I have no overt racist feelings. But I just don't know--it might make a difference to me. It might--at least it would take me longer to erase any feeling of "differentness"--I wouldn't want to risk it. In fact I think risking it would be a terrible thing to do. My brain tells me it wouldn't matter for more than a day or two. If someone left a black baby on the doorstep I'd be be in here snuggling her and loving her in a heartbeat. I know it wouldn't matter--that would be my kid, brought by fate straight here. But when it's me serving as the deus ex machina? My gut says it wouldn't matter but what if it did? What then?
Why doesn't that apply with an Asian child? Two reasons, I'd say. The first is that I've been mentally picturing adopting an Asian child for years. I'm used to it. It's consistent with my vision of the world. Is the second more positive general associations? I don't know. I hope not.
So that's ugly truth number one. Or honest and useful self-assessment. I don't know. But there it is. Onward:
The Action taken: Connecting to Rainbow Kids, choosing South Korea and Taiwan, and requesting information from all agencies that handle adoptions in those countries. Why those two? We meet the requirements. (Our big limitation is the number of kids we already have.) You can choose gender, as they say--in our case, choose a girl. South Korea seems to offer the best foster care and medical information. Taiwan involves birth families in the process. I like those things.
Then I clicked on China--and saw that I would be getting information for about a zillion agencies. Maybe two zillion. And panicked slightly, reasoning that we want an agency that will let us apply to two countries at once, maybe, so there would have to be overlap, so I really don't have to do that...
But you know, we might not do that. We might just go with China. I don't know, do I? If we decide we can handle a slight special needs kid (oh, all the stuff to blog about!) If we just want to, because I love China and Poptart wants the kids to learn Mandarin. If we do.
Guess I should do one more. Or maybe not--Maybe I can get away with ccruising some boards and requesting information from a few specific places. The Great Wall Agency, for example--used by Jeff Gammage's family,whose journey is described in the book
China Ghosts. If we went China only we would want an agency that did too, which probably rules a lot out. So.
Awful truths now--which involves a very exciting checklist entitled "What Special NeedsAre You Willing to Accept" and the googling of ptosis--will have to wait for another post.
I have no overt racist feelings. But I just don't know--it might make a difference to me. It might--at least it would take me longer to erase any feeling of "differentness"--I wouldn't want to risk it. In fact I think risking it would be a terrible thing to do. My brain tells me it wouldn't matter for more than a day or two. If someone left a black baby on the doorstep I'd be be in here snuggling her and loving her in a heartbeat. I know it wouldn't matter--that would be my kid, brought by fate straight here. But when it's me serving as the deus ex machina? My gut says it wouldn't matter but what if it did? What then?
Why doesn't that apply with an Asian child? Two reasons, I'd say. The first is that I've been mentally picturing adopting an Asian child for years. I'm used to it. It's consistent with my vision of the world. Is the second more positive general associations? I don't know. I hope not.
So that's ugly truth number one. Or honest and useful self-assessment. I don't know. But there it is. Onward:
The Action taken: Connecting to Rainbow Kids, choosing South Korea and Taiwan, and requesting information from all agencies that handle adoptions in those countries. Why those two? We meet the requirements. (Our big limitation is the number of kids we already have.) You can choose gender, as they say--in our case, choose a girl. South Korea seems to offer the best foster care and medical information. Taiwan involves birth families in the process. I like those things.
Then I clicked on China--and saw that I would be getting information for about a zillion agencies. Maybe two zillion. And panicked slightly, reasoning that we want an agency that will let us apply to two countries at once, maybe, so there would have to be overlap, so I really don't have to do that...
But you know, we might not do that. We might just go with China. I don't know, do I? If we decide we can handle a slight special needs kid (oh, all the stuff to blog about!) If we just want to, because I love China and Poptart wants the kids to learn Mandarin. If we do.
Guess I should do one more. Or maybe not--Maybe I can get away with ccruising some boards and requesting information from a few specific places. The Great Wall Agency, for example--used by Jeff Gammage's family,whose journey is described in the book
China Ghosts. If we went China only we would want an agency that did too, which probably rules a lot out. So.
Awful truths now--which involves a very exciting checklist entitled "What Special NeedsAre You Willing to Accept" and the googling of ptosis--will have to wait for another post.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
First Declaration of Public Intent
So that last post--my first here in a while--was my first public announcement that we're thinking about adopting #4. It's a crazy idea, one that could only be the product of one of the inmates, and cooler heads may prevail--which is, in part, why I'm blogging about it here. I'm not sure we have any cooler heads in our household. Poptart has admitted to both envying friends with four kids and feeling too old to do the pregnancy/baby thing again, and has leapt to my defense when I wondered aloud if my motives were crappy--want another kid, don't want to be pregnant, don't want to give birth, nurse, get up every two hours--so what, am I kid shopping, I asked? Saying no, Let my kid spend the first nine months of her life crying in a crib, no warm breast, no one to do for her everything I did for mine? Just for my convenience?
No, he snapped, that's going to happen anyway. The point is to help--to get one more kid out of that situation. But if the countries Americans adopt from each offer a quota of babies, am I being selfish to take one when lots of other people want a child to raise? Presumabley, eventually, it's one more. I guess.
So he may not meet the cooler head criterion. Here's what there is to know about us, I guess: I like change. I like adventure, new things, new schools, new jobs, new faces. Risk. I went to six schools before sixth grade. He grew up entirely in the same house his mother still lives in.
But he married me. And he never, ever says no to a crazy scheme. He does ask all the questions I don't want to ask because I'm all over enthusiastic and just want to do it--buy the house, get the dog, hire the contractor, paint the walls--now. He's the crazy scheme moderator.
And I know he wants another kid. If I wanted to get pregnant he'd put aside his reservations in a heartbeat. But that's not the adventure I want to have, at this point.
I think we're going to do this. I've always thought we would do this. And now--we'll regret it if we don't do it. I'm not without some fears that we'll regret it if we do...is anyone? But he's on Beauregard wake-up duty and he's been up at five everynight this week, with some exciting three o'clock calls too--so I think we'll fill out the "which country should we choose" questionaires a little later in the week.
No, he snapped, that's going to happen anyway. The point is to help--to get one more kid out of that situation. But if the countries Americans adopt from each offer a quota of babies, am I being selfish to take one when lots of other people want a child to raise? Presumabley, eventually, it's one more. I guess.
So he may not meet the cooler head criterion. Here's what there is to know about us, I guess: I like change. I like adventure, new things, new schools, new jobs, new faces. Risk. I went to six schools before sixth grade. He grew up entirely in the same house his mother still lives in.
But he married me. And he never, ever says no to a crazy scheme. He does ask all the questions I don't want to ask because I'm all over enthusiastic and just want to do it--buy the house, get the dog, hire the contractor, paint the walls--now. He's the crazy scheme moderator.
And I know he wants another kid. If I wanted to get pregnant he'd put aside his reservations in a heartbeat. But that's not the adventure I want to have, at this point.
I think we're going to do this. I've always thought we would do this. And now--we'll regret it if we don't do it. I'm not without some fears that we'll regret it if we do...is anyone? But he's on Beauregard wake-up duty and he's been up at five everynight this week, with some exciting three o'clock calls too--so I think we'll fill out the "which country should we choose" questionaires a little later in the week.
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