Fucking hell … no that is all ….. how stupid are people?

I am sorry to cut and paste things – but sometimes there is just no other option.  And I do not want to link to the post in case you are too shit arsed lazy to follow the link.

Today, I have been further amazed at how stupid the common person is.

How on earth did we manage to multiply and take over the planet when we have people who exhibit this level of IQ, common sense and inability to spell in our gene pool.

I am starting to feel quite strongly about asking the government to institute an IQ test before people are allowed to breed – via what ever method they have access to.

Self Righteous, Ignorant & Judgemental Mommy “Support”

I was tagged in a post today on FB, another “mom’s support” group, although, I have to say, I’m not sure that there was much “support” going on in this particular post. Just a whole lot of judgement, self righteousness and ignorance. Anyway, the reason I was tagged was to offer some advice to a pregnant mom who wanted to place her baby for adoption. I’ve copied and pasted some of the unbelievable ignorant, stupid, self righteous and down right judgmental comments below:

walk_a_mile_in_my-101006

Here is the original message:

Anon:
Please ladies do NOT Judge.

I’m about 4months pregnant, unplanned and unwanted pregnancy.. I do have a child and love my child to bits, I’m just not ready for another one.. I’m tired of pretending to be happy about it when all it does is make me moody and nasty towards others.. I could not abort so I want to give this child up for adoption… How do I go about it and can I do it without the biological father’s permission?

  • Your child will have a brother or sister. A friend for life. Try to see it from your child’s eyes in a few years time and how it could be. Don’t make a hasty decision.

Um… DOH! Adopted children have brothers and sisters too, or perhaps you’re one of those who are so hung up on genetics you can’t see it any other way. 

  •  don’t make a decision in haste. if u really interested in giving the child up I know some1 that will gladly take it and gv it vrything it needs for a blissful life.

The “it” you refer to is NOT a hamster or puppy. It’s a CHILD! Who are you to judge who qualifies as a suitable adoptive parent???

  • If you are serious about adoption please let me know, I know someone who would give the baby a great life.

Again, who qualified you as a social worker to determine who would make suitable adoptive parents? 

  • When you see that baby you’ll fall in love. Don’t make a decision until you are 100% certain. How will that kid feel when he finds out he was put up for adoption but you kept his sibling.

So missing the point. This is not about siblings, this anon mom is issuing a crying for help, she is trying to what is best for EVERYONE in the situation.And really, way to go simplifying such a deeply complex situation. 

  • You will never be financially ready ….once you waited to long you will be old for a second child ….its also selfish know your child has a brother or sister and you want to give it up ….pls dont …you will regret and when your lo finds our when they older they will never forgive you ….you cant just think of yourself….think of your child that you love so much

You must be an idealist who lives in lala land believing all a child needs is love. Seriously, children cost money and for some of us (perhaps I shouldn’t include myself in this group as you probably don’t see me as a “real”mother either given my barren womb) providing for our children is of the utmost importance. We consider things like the cost of a good education, medical care, child care, etc etc etc. You don’t know the state of this anon mom’s finances, so don’t be so flip about her concerns. And again, I think this anon mom is very brave, I don’t believe she’s only thinking of herself but her whole family, including her unborn child. 

  •  Pray!!! God will not afford u a child if He cannot put in place any help…U dnt know what is God’s plan 4 this baby.Maybe this child is supposed 2 be there 4 the other 1.They might need one another more in later years.Do u want ur child 2 be all alone when God forbid something happens 2 u….@ least they wil have each other…kids are a blessing & plz wait a while!

Adopted children are blessings too, in ways you could clearly NEVER understand. And pray, oh my favorite, pray. If I had a $ for every time somebody told me to pray when I was going through my infertility. No matter your faith, surely we are all adult enough to realize that sometimes our prayers are answered and the answer is no! Perhaps adoption IS the answer to anon mom’s prayer?  We don’t live in a fairy tale, shitty things happen in life but how we cope and the choices we make with the hand we’re dealt is what counts. 

  • I always thank God for the mum I was blessed with. For I could have been born to someone who felt I should be given away or worse, aborted………sad how the new generation thinks.

Self righteous bitch! Adopted children ARE NOT given away! You clearly HAVE NO CLUE!

  • How about you just give the baby TO the biological father? I mean really.

Again, seriously! This is NOT a puppy, this is a child! Not to be “given” from one person to the next! And again, there could be a million and one different reasons why just “giving” the baby to the biological father is not a possibility! 

  • Some women spend so many years trying to conceive ( knowing they can provide a good, loving home) and some die never knowing what if feels like to carry a new life inside of them. And then we get women who don’t even feel remotely excited about being pregnant, life is such I presume! adoption is an easy way out and should only be implemented when the natural parents die, my opinion anyway … whatever you decide, I pray your unborn child ( which didn’t ask to be born by the way!) never feels unwanted or unloved

Yes, I am one of THOSE women you refer to, poor little me, I will die never knowing what it feels like to carry a child inside of me and yet I am still blessed beyond your narrow mindedness! Adopted children, while they may experience a certain about of rejection when they are older and understand the concept of adoption, when placed in a loving, suitable, properly screened and approved family WILL NOT grow up feeling unloved. And most importantly IDIOT, adoption is HARDLY the easy way out, adoption is love. Adoption is about putting the wants, needs, hopes and dreams of your unborn child before your own. It’s about making a life long commitment to sadness and to feelings of loss and grief! It is HARDLY easy. I’m quite sure both my children’s biological mothers would agree with me and be shocked at your careless thought that its the easy way out!  Oh and just to add, thanks for your opinion, but if your opinion were law, then women like me would NEVER experience motherhood, and beautiful families like mine would never exist. 

I’m just reminded over and over again that we live in a society where the large % of people will never know or understand my family. Where some people are so obsessed with genetics that they can NEVER truly know love. How sad for them. But how dare they put their issues onto a scared, sad pregnant woman who is looking for help!

You can read the full thread here.

if you want to go along and post a comment on Sharon’s blog – please link through to Blessed Barrenness and feel free to leave your rant, or tell her she is over reacting.

Please do not tell me these comments are done with the best intentions.

Best intentions circumcise boys with unhygienic instruments and then make them wander around in the bush for 30 days.

Best intentions came up with burning heretics.

Best intentions gave rise to that little “jewish” problem.

Seriously, best intentions do not mean you can be a total toss.  Or knob!

And people wonder why I say FK so much!!  Fucking hell.

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Adoption South Africa …

I was listening to CapeTalk earlier this week, and the person being interviewed {apologise, have totally forgotten her name} said that in South Africa there are more or less 2 400 adoptions per year.

I thought that was a frighteningly low figure – I just figured it would be more, but I know when I spoke to Child Welfare last year I recall them quoting something along the lines of 24 or 30 children that they placed in adoption for the year, and it just seemed like such a small amount.

The other statistics she mentioned.

{fortunately I also saw these on Adoption SA dot org so that was a huge help, as I sort of remembered the numbers, but not exactly}

I love this new site, and I am so thrilled that someone has got it together and put information in one useful place.

Estimated number of children in foster care and receiving foster care grants in January 2010 Estimated number of  orphaned children  in 2007 Estimated number of  children living in child-headed households in 2009 Estimated number of children in state-owned children’s homes as at end-October 2009
510 713 668 000 150 000 14 599

The question was why are so many people fostering but unwilling to adopt.

She answered that it was not clear, but a lot of the fostering was what they referred to as “kin fostering.”  A family fostering a child who has a biological connection to them, so seldom was there no connection between the fostered child and the family.

Another factor was a fostering social grant system – but there was no adoption grant system.  In some cases a family fostering needs the grant, which they would lose if they adopted the child, so this encouraged the “fostering” relationship to continue.

A bit grim, but when you think about how many families struggle to get by, it does seem a realistic problem.

The one person mentioned that they had been through Child Welfare and only had great things to say.  They had adopted a little girl and the process had taken about 9 months, and it was much easier than they had thought.

There was another person who mentioned they had tried to adopt for several years and it just did not happen.  I am not sure of what the details were behind this.

I do think that in South Africa it is easy to adopt – relatively easy – there are so many kids, and not so many parents who have a home to give, so the supply would outstrip the demand.  So adoption is a process – both paperwork and emotional, but I do not think that it is one that is insurmountable and as difficult as “word on the street” is.

But {and yes there is a but} if someone wants to adopt and the “defining” factors are quite tight, then of course it does make it a bit more of a “challenge” and then I would imagine that it was difficult.

Adoption {and fostering} is a personal thing, and I don’t think any of us can judge someone who chooses to not adopt for what ever reason.  I have heard so many wonderful tear-streaking-down-your-cheek stories about adoption, and until now no horror stories, but adoption {like all things children} is a huge brave step into the unknown.

It is no secret that I was {am} keen on adoption.   I have discussed adoption with my kids {not adopting them out, you understand, but adopting a child} and I we have friends who have adopted, I had spoken to them about the concept before, so they understand the dynamics and it is not a foreign concept in their worlds.

On the weekend Connor and I are watching a show and somewhere in it someone uses the phrase “my brother from another mother” so Connor goes “what does that means?” and I repeat the phrase and then explain it’s use in the way it was meant in the comedy show we were watching.

So he looks at me and goes – with the innocence of a child – “if we adopted a boy, then he would be my brother from another mother…” I think I had a little bit of snot that I sniffed back right then.

I saw this {long} but lovely story about cross-cultural adoption – it sort of gives you hope that things are actually right with the world.

Today is a GREAT day …

Today our friends, Joyce and Leon, collect their baby daughter Kirsten.  They pick her up, hold her close, breath her in, strap her in her car seat (this might take 45 minutes) and bring her home for the first time. 

Today is THAT day, the one they have been waiting for. 

Kirsten has been with a kangaroo care-mom for 60 days, and today that 60 days is up – it has been the longest 60 days, but it is over and now it is day 1!

Joyce, Leon and Kirsten, today is your day!  Enjoy every juicy squishy milk-smelling moment.

I saw this quotation and it made me have a good cry

Not flesh of my flesh, Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.
Never forget for a single minute,
You didn’t grow under my heart – but in it.

Fleur Conkling Heylinger

Talking about sex …… again

I bought a book for the kids a few years ago that explained sex and how girls and boys bodies change, and more importantly that girls and boys are different, and it is not bad different it is just different different.

My motivation was that Connor was heading to grade 1 and though I did not feel strongly that 7 years old was a good age to introduce this subject, my concern is that his exposure to older kids would suddenly put him in a position where someone spoke about sex or a pen*s or a vag*na and I did not want him standing there having no idea what they were talking about.

Or worse being ridiculed, or fractionally worse him making ridiculous childish jokes about sex.

So I bought the book. <also because I was at a total loss how to bring the subject up without cringing in embarrassment>

The other problem (because there are always so many) is that I was not going to seclude Connor and I into a room and discuss sex, I discussed the book and the subject while Georgia was sitting there. 

Often them sitting in the bath or when we drive to and from school is a great time to have these conversations.  It turns what often is a slightly awkward moment into a sort of by-the-by conversation and allows me to look out of the windscreen when they say something really inappropriate or that embarrasses me, but I still want to appear like “cool rocking mom!”

Georgia is 3 ½ years younger than Connor, which again is probably not a super great age to introduce this subject.  But that being said, when is a really good age?

I have started thinking that if you discuss in the same tone and seriousness of “do you want pink or brown pronutro for breakfast” it is best.  It really rolls off the kids and it does not become this blood-red-face-and mouth-gasping-like-a-fish-out-of-water subject.

Initially I thought most of it would go over Georgia’s head, and she really would not be interested.  But if she was exposed to the subject in a matter-of-fact-way while she was playing with the bath duck, it would also be fine.

It seemed to work well, and we looked at how babies were made, and what people did to get a baby – slightly unsettling drawing, but my kids did not even skip a beat.  I think it did make Kennith cringe when I had the kids say in unison “Pen*s” or “Vag*na” out loud so they got comfortable with the pronunciation and the term.  Though I still use the term winkie and moomfie – yes it is sort of counter-productive, but I feel a bit Biology teacher using the word Vag*na! 

Kids screaming out sexual organ names is probably not the most natural thing that should occur in any household.

Anyway the book gets hauled out every now and then and then gets packed into the book shelf.  Georgia pulled this book out about 5 days ago and this book stays with her, she even sleeps with it at night.

Friday last week she asked/demanded/insisted that the book go to school with her as she wanted to show her friends.

Now even with my limited grasp of social idiosyncrasies, I realized that this might not be the best plan.

I am fine with MY kids being exposed to the concept of sex and the terms, but I could just imagine the shit storm if Cara or Emma went home and told their mom that they saw a picture of a penis, and that they saw where babies came from.

I explained to her that the book really was not going to school.  I was fine with Connor and her being exposed to the subject, and discussing it with me because there was nothing bad about it, and finding out what it is not a bad thing. But they are my kids and it is my choice to discuss this with them, other moms and dads might not feel it is appropriate to have their pre-school kids learning this stuff, and that is the choice they get to make.

She threw a tantrum and yelled and stamped her foot.

I felt like doing the same.

I tried to reason with her and eventually grabbed the book, chucked it into the book shelf and screamed at her to “Get in the frikn car NOW!”

I figure once we are driving and on our way to school, I have a good 12 minutes to calm her down and reason anything with her in that time frame.

Last night Georgia asked me to read her a story, and pulled out ‘ye old Sex Book again!  Which is not exactly bed time reading, but I was willing to give it a shot.  We chatted about pubic hair and wet dreams – which is not exactly Goldilocks and the Three Bears but there you go.

Blundered through that a bit.  Georgia does seem to be up to scratch with sperm and how it gets in – she however refers to them as ‘little worms!”

This morning on the way to school, Connor said something about sex.  I can’t quite recall the context.  He did not shout out SEX, but he said something about babies and sex, in a very age appropriate fashion (as kids of nine do!).

He mentioned that babies can be made when you have sex, and I said yes, but sometimes people have sex because it feels nice and they might now necessarily want a baby.  (I did quickly jump in with a disclaimer that those people are adults, and sex is something that adults do, and it is not appropriate for children.)

So Connor nodded, and then said “ but you do not always need to have sex to have a baby….”

And I thought ‘wouldn’t that be convenient’ but waited for him to finish the thought – and then he said ‘because you can adopt…”

Clever boy. 

So we discussed adoption and that why parents/moms decide to give a child up for adoption and I had to explain to him that often it is very painful for the parents/mom but they are doing it because they love that child and want the best for the baby, and and and …… I was trying to explain it is probably one of the biggest shows of love you can do to put your child’s needs before your own, and give them a life that you cannot give them. 

And then I had a cry.

Connor sat there awkwardly for a moment, and then checked that I was not going to be putting him up for adoption …. to which I said “well, not right now” ……………

So I am still holding on to the clothes…

For fear of dragging this rather old and very worn subject out into the sunlight again, please bear with me as I ramble through this one.

I have a ton, an absolute ton of baby girl clothes that I just cannot bring myself to give away (no matter how good or charitable the cause is).

Isabelle had so many baby clothes that some of them did not get worn, and being on the tubby side of sixteen months, she has outgrown a lot of them.  Some of them still have the labels on them, and the piles in her cupboard are piling up to the point where it is difficult to close the door.

Just to put it into context, I shop at the cheaper retail chains, and often pop in during sale time, so I get a lot of bang for my buck, and really love the allure of pink.

I have kept most of Isabelle’s things, barring a few bags I donated off to charity.

I can’t lie, the reason for my holding on to the cloths was that I was convinced that we were going to look at adopting a fourth child.  My mind’s eye had a girl featuring in full technicolour, and she would need a wardrobe!

My friend recently told me she was pregnant.

I thought fantastic – when she announces she is pregnant with a girl, I will then use it as a cleansing exercise and happily hand her a truckload of clothing which she can choose to use or to pass on.  She will be delighted, and I will have some sort of “open yourself to the universe” moment.

She then told me she was having a boy and she is super thrilled.  I am happy for her – but clearly I can’t give her the girl’s clothes. Not unless her child is going to dress like a fairy and be called Humperdink.

So I am back to a cupboard full of clothing.

I know part of the reason for the hoarding is that I am still (yes, I know still) waiting on Kennith to change his mind and give in to my fourth child laments – which I do not talk about out loud, but the conversation does go on in my head pretty much all the time.

I also appreciate that a final ruling on this matter has already been made.  But as you can well see, my inability to absorb information that I do not want to hear is operating at full capacity.  (insert image of little girl with fingers in ears going la-la-la-la-la here)

I know they are only clothes in plastic bags in the cupboard.  But they are starting to become something (even if it is only to me) symbolic and they are starting to be more than just clothes in a bag, albeit it several bags (I realise you can hear me popping the Zoloft blister pack right here ….)

So I am still holding on to the clothes, because I am not ready to part with them.

This morning I was chatting to a good friend whose wife is 14 weeks pregnant – I asked if they had found out the sex of the baby and whether they would tell me.

He said he would and she is pregnant with a girl – I am so thrilled, but now I face the quandary of my own design. I literally started to have a little panic at the thought of giving them the clothes …. so I just said nothing, other than the congratulations part, and let’s get together to celebrate.

Do I give her all these baby girl clothes, or do I sit quietly and push the already bursting cupboard closed a bit harder?

I spoke to another friend just after that email who is looking at starting the adoption process for themselves.  I then thought: well why don’t I just keep these clothes and I can then give it to her – assuming she is going to have a girl, as then I would have another 6 – 9 months to hold on to the clothes in the cupboard.

So I am still holding on to the clothes.

My reluctance to let go of these clothes, and my inability to let go of this “thing” is clearly a sign of impending doom and may result in another brutal conversation under the harsh kitchen lights.

So I am still holding on to the clothes.

Sometimes your decisions are not yours to make ….

So last night Kennith asked me what was wrong.

He noticed I just was not “there” – and he wanted me to explain to him why I was feeling a bit down/low/removed.

I answered that I really do not know, but I might have lied.

It was not a hard lie, it was more of an untruth, as I had not allowed myself the time and space to really think about why I was feeling to “just not there.”

About two weeks ago Kennith and I had a conversation.  We really need to stop having conversations in the kitchen.  They just never go well.  When ever we have a conversation with a fluorescent light above our heads, it normally ends in my crying or me being really angry.

Kitchen = not great places if someone starts with “we need to talk…”

Without dragging it out, as only I can do, the short of it is that Kennith wants me to stop with any ideas/further motion that surround surrogacy/adoption/fourth child or anything that can be related to these issues – in a nutshell – as some would say.

I stood there and took congnisense of what he was saying and really nothing he said could be argued against with logic.

However that did not make me feel any better.

I immediately started to feel like an insolent six year old who was being told off by her father and being warned that behavior in this regard would not be further tolerated.

Kennith however was very calm – some may say calculated – and stated his facts cleanly and without emotion – some may say coldly.  His case was crystal clear “there is no benefit to us as a family unit, and the risks are too large” so cease and desist.  Okay, he did not actually say cease and desist, but you get the gist.

I was immediately angry/disappointed/crushed/emotionally bereft – in equal and immeasurable quantities – that what I wanted to do was being controlled/stopped by someone else when I felt totally different.  (listen we can labour the point of the family unit and how we are all one and all the crap later ….)

I realized that there was no point in making a further case for any of these issues, as Kennith had already made up his mind.  His were logical reasons while mine were purely emotional.

He had not made up his mind in a rash moment of anger, or because the day had been a bad one.  He had given it thought, and weighed the issues up and decided that he wanted to tell me how he felt – and decided that the kitchen was a good place and the timing was just right.

Unfortunately it was a bit (well very actually) too crushing for me and I was unable to respond in an effective or emotionally mature manner.

When I feel “attacked” or “under threat” I immediately start to “baton down my hatches,” so to speak – and retreat into myself.  I chose to say as little as possible, because I felt I was screaming inside and that never translates well in adult conversation.

I know that nothing will be gained by swearing and screaming and fighting against the decision.

I know that nothing will be gained by drafting a funky presentation using Photoshop and PowerPoint to dazzle him.

I know there is nothing to be gained by falling on the floor and begging and pleading whilst I hold on to his pant’s leg and cry in a loud whining voice.

There is nothing to be gained.

There is nothing to be gained no matter what I do.

There is nothing to be gained so I feel ineffective, useless and just a little bit (very) crushed.

There is nothing to be gained so I feel resentful and angry and hurt.

I realise that my reaction is probably not the most mature.

I realise that my reaction will only further alienate Kennith.

I realise that there is nothing to be gained from feeling like I do, and by not just getting over it.  But there is nothing to be gained.

I realise all of this, but I still feel like ..

I am just not ready to hear the no, when in actual fact it is resounding, I am not ready to give up, but I must or I will drive myself to distraction, and hate Kennith for it.  I am angry that I do not get to make this decision by myself (insert angry six year old girl stamping her foot here).  I am angry, I am hurt, I am disappointed, I am angry, I am so very very angry, I am so very very hurt…

Will I recover?  Of course, don’t we all recover eventually given enough time.

How long do I need?  Not sure, really not sure today, but tomorrow or next week is another day, but I am just one of those that do not bounce back quickly ….

Take a breath ….

Funny what a difference a few days with a total break from reality, and a few bottles of wine can make to your countenance?

The entire weekend was just a complete waste of oxygen.

It has been a very long time since I functioned whilst being totally removed from myself.  I could not have been more absent/removed/vacant/not present this weekend if I tried.

It is a bit like an out of body experience.  You can see you are in a room interacting – or not, whilst you are existing in the corner of the room, far removed from anyone/anything except this dullness around you.  Strange?  Yes.  True? Yes.

Fortunately it is not something I have to go through as much as I used to.  When my depression was at it’s worst, I would have weeks in this state, so I am thankful that I only got a few days of it now – and it really has not occurred in what feels like an age.

Kennith gives me the space when he sees I need it.  He tries not to ask too much of me when he knows I can’t do more than I am doing.  He goes a long way to just quietly helping me through these times..

I met with some friends for pizza and wine on Tuesday night – not too much pizza, possibly too much wine, and it really was a fun evening.  The conversation ranged from spousal abuse, growths on partners’ bodies, to sex and everything in between.  It was a relaxing evening and nice to have people speaking incoherently about so many funny things – the dinner was punctuated by loud guffaws of laughter – just what the doctor ordered!

I also had the fortunate opportunity to chat to someone this week who I really do feel a “soul connection” with.   I have known her for some time, but we have not seen each other for quite a bit.

We spoke about adoption, and the various urges that exist in our souls that we cannot always quantify or qualify.  For me it was great to just speak to someone who just got what I was saying, and did not look at me with that slightly raised eyebrow of confusion.

I am not sure if she was getting me, but after two bottles of wine suddenly it does appear like the whole world is just getting you.  But seriously, it was great to connect with her after so much time.

Last night I went along and met some moms from the Moomie forum.

We have been chatting on that forum for about 6 -8 months.  Before that we were chatting on the Pampers forum, and all seemed to migrate together to the better managed Moomie forum.

It is very strange seeing people you have been friends/adversaries on a forum, then there you are sitting across from them at a dinner table.  Having a relationship outside of the protection of your monitor and keyboard.

I would imagine that a Russian brides meeting her husband at the airport for the first time has similar issues.

Initially I thought it would be weird and awkward, but it really wasn’t.  The only part that was a bit strange was that you are so familiar with them in a cyber room, but sitting across from the table, one sometimes forgets who the person is without the benefit of their avatar to view.

It was a really relaxing evening – like dinner with old friends.  The girls are all so interesting and really unique – it did not feel forced, and conversation flowed easily.

Now that I am a tad more calm – I have realized that none of my ‘wants’ have faded into the morning light of fluorescent overhead lighting and in the even harsher light of reason and logic.

I feel a bit more comfortable that I know what I want/need.  It is okay to be me who wants/needs these things even in the face of opposition, fierce reasoning, pie charts and logical argument.

It is enough for me to just feel strongly that this is what I need, even if maybe they do not make sense to others.  Sometimes you cannot always explain what drives you to do what you do … sometimes it is just the want.

I also appreciate that Kennith and I are in this family together.

I need to respect his opinion and his feelings on the issues that are going to impact on our family – as a group and as individuals.  I can’t say that I will just quietly abandon what I want because he does not agree, and right now I do not really have a chart of the way forward.

However for now, I will take a breath and see where things go.

I am not sure where my path with adoption/fourth child issues/surrogacy will take me, or whether I will progress on any of those paths, or whether it will just go no where.  For today I am willing to exhale and try a modicum of patience and see what happens ….

Nothing to do but have a little bitch ….

You know when you just have a “I feel really shite and I should have just stayed home” day. I was fine physically, but for some reason I felt like I was on the verge of having a total break with reality sort of day, you know the kind?

Please tell me you do, so I do not feel like a total freak of nature.

I do realize that I am way past sounding like the crazy cat lady – but I am not sure how far past.  My friend suggested it was possibly all the hype pre-wedding and then the stuff after.  And add my stuff now. She felt I was just a little emotionally-strained and well, she did not want to say sensitive and emotional, but I knew where she was going.

Quite possibly.

This entire weekend, I just felt flat, and removed from everything.

I think part of it is the rather somber conversation Kennith and I had on Friday night.

In one conversation I realized that this may well spell the end of my surrogacy/possibly fourth child/adoption and any plans that require the purchase of maternity wear and booties.

I realized I am sounding a bit unhinged.

I woke up this morning at 03h40 so by the time I got to work I was totally destroyed.  I am one of those people who needs eight hours sleep, else does not function and starts to experience a bit of a strain.

At office – feeling all sad and flat – I am in an open plan office, and I face my entire team while I work.  So I figured I will just have a quiet little cry there at my monitor and carry on working … you know, as you do.  Sad, but productive.

Fortunately every time someone looked at me and they start to frown at the state of my face – I just said “insomnia” and they nodded sagely, and then give me a little look of sympathy.

Of course that did not explain the raccoon-mascara rings on my face, but bless my colleagues for just ignoring me and getting on with their day.

On the stranger side, Kennith had a s.e.x. dream, that included me and chutney … listen I don’t even make this stuff up … the Mrs Balls’ variety.  He even texted me today asking if he should stop and pick up some chutney … and they say I am having a break with reality <sigh>!

Good things do happen to good people ….

The strange things about blogging and belonging to forums, is that it introduces you to a world of people you may not have had the good fortune to meet through any other route.

Through the powers of words, you start to connect with others.  You start to recognise soul-connections in other people – for what ever reason.  They might live down the road or on the other side of the world, it really does not matter.

It is something about them that resonates with you, and you feel a connection to them and their world.

A while ago I  had the good fortunate to befriend Lisa-Marie through blogging and we have remained in touch via a host of routes.

You know when you meet a “nice” person.   Someone who is truly just a good person, but is being faced with all the hurt and the pain that is the “I want a child, but for what ever reason we cannot have one.”

And how your heart just dies a little for them each time they take a knock.

Lisa and her partner Travers are those people.

The great thing about Lisa is that she is not one of those shiny-happy-nice (slightly annoying) people.   She is a nice people who still screams and rants and swears at the thunder, and sometimes just wants to throw it all away to go and travel and discover new countries and say “just fek it all”.

A while ago they made the difficult decision (and it is hard) to look at adoption as another possible route on their journey.   No doubt what ever they had gone through and maybe some of their experiences had led them to this as an option.

It is a difficult decision, no matter who you are or what your background, to decide that maybe the path you have walked for so long, is maybe not the path that is going to get you to your destination.

You scream and cry at the unfairness of it all.  Curse all who can be cursed, that what you have done and sacrificed for so long is just not working.  And you then decide to change course on your ship to motherhood, which must come with it’s own share of pain and heart-ache.

I was thrilled that Lisa had ventured into this as an option.  But I ached for her, and was worried that maybe a new waiting game was going to begin – maybe she will be faced with further hardships on this new path.

But sometimes life … not often … life is not a sack of shite, and sometimes, just sometimes, it allows the good stuff to rain on the good people.

Last week Lisa and Travers got the call and today …. today …. today their beautiful Isabella Helen is being born and they get to meet their daughter for the first time.

You know when you get to cry for happiness for someone else … someone who you have never met … but you feel you are connected in so many ways?

Today is that day  …. yay a thousand times over for Lisa and Travers who get to become parents  T O D A Y !!

http://ttcnot2easy.wordpress.com/

Reality sometimes requires you to wear your big girl panties …

The one benefit of knowing that Kennith has known me for nearly two decades, is that he knows what he is getting in to.  He really cannot throw his hands in the air, and deny that he knew what he was getting once all the circus make-up is wiped off and I have freed myself from the corseted dress.

He knows me with an acuteness that I can honestly say no one else does, or probably ever will.  He knows what makes me tick, he knows that makes me smile and he knows what makes me cry.  He sees into my soul.

I really do not have to try and market myself or sell myself as something I am not – he knows me too well to be fooled by a lick of mascara and a boob job.

I know Kennith and have no delusions about what life will be like post-17 July 2010.

We literally know each other’s warts, skin tacks, spiky unshaved legs and sometimes-we-forget-to-flush-the-toilet and wet towels being left on the bed – by now we know it all, but we still have decided that right now there is no other place we would rather be.

After the 17 July, we may have some gifts, we will definitely have some great photographs, but we will still be the same people we are now – that will not have changed.

The reason I am jotting this down today, is that today/right now I am feeling at a very low place.

It may be all the stress of planning the wedding, dreading the day on a certain level.  It might be the stress at work, it might be my ambivalence about getting married and what this will actually mean as we forge our road ahead.  It might be the after shock of the pre-nup and that process and all it conjured up in my head.

I am not sure.  My head is literally screaming with a dozen voices and I feel exhausted and want to just seek the darkness and the quiet of my duvet, and let it all just drift away.

The “big” issue we have – well it is big to me – I am sure for Kennith he may have other issues that are equally big – is the issue regarding a fourth child and/or looking at adoption.

I always take cognizance that this is my blog. I get to say things from my point of view, and express reality in my voice and from my perspective.  I never deem to speak on behalf of Kennith – I sometimes say what I think he thinks, but it really is from my perspective.  His real thoughts and his real motivations are left to him to put out there if he wants.

So that being said ….I am not sure if three children is enough for me – Kennith was pretty set that two children was enough for him.  He feels he went along with a third child more for me wanting a third child than him wanting a third child.  I had covered this issue under an earlier post, so I will not go into this again on this one.

In terms of considering a potential of a potential fourth child, I also felt that I really did not want to go through another pregnancy.

They were great, they had their moment, and I would recommend them to others who are keen to explore this alien-possession experience.  But I do not feel my body will make it through another pregnancy unscathed.  I am too old and too exhausted to survive another pregnancy – the last one was a strain of diabolic proportion, with too many “I think I am dying” moments.

I digress … back to my point … I feel strongly that I need/want/have to adopt a child – I can’t explain it in rational terms.  I will post a better explanation another day when maybe I am feeling a bit more composed and slightly more in control – today, not that day so much.

This urge in me is stronger (sorry I realized I sound like Luke Skywalker there) than the urge to pee or eat.  I think the “want to adopt” has always been there, in the back of my mind, and something happened – I don’t know what – that triggered this urge into over drive.

I discussed the idea with Kennith several months ago – by then it had already been feeding and growing in my mind.

Kennith initially thought the idea had merit.  He was not wild about it, but he was willing to let the idea be bounced around a bit – as just an idea.

I am sure he could sense I was “super keen” and probably did not want to come out and sound like the bad papa bear and say “no” straight out.  He probably figured we would talk about it, idea would maybe run out of steam and we would go out for dinner and that would be the end of it.

Unfortunately for me the “idea” became a burning passion and took on a life of it’s own – taking over my life in certain areas.

I spoke to several wonderful people who were either adopting, or had adopted a child, contacted agencies and social workers, and was well on my way in throwing myself into this process.  I was just running with all guns blazing!!

The problem (for me) is that Kennith has had more time to think about it, and he feels now is certain beyond any doubt that he does not want a fourth child.  Whether it be from his loins or through the adoption process.  He feels our life is chaotic enough, and the stress of another child might be more than we can manage, and more than I can manage, knowing how I already struggle … some days.

He has never led me along a false road of delusions and allusions.

He has always been very clear on his thoughts on the matter.  I however have chosen to hear only the “hope”, and have literally put my hands over my ears when ever I have sensed there might be a “no” coming.

I realise that this decision has to be made by both of us – we need to be equally invested and committed to adopting a child.  It cannot be a project that I take on whether he supports it or not – I realise that (I had been toying with just arriving with a child and going “Can Oscar stay..?” but realised that maybe that might not work out as well as it did in the advert I saw.)

I also realise the implications to our entire family of adopting a fourth child.  Kennith is possibly able to look at it’s impact with less emotion and possibly more “future projection” than I am able to – I realise that too.

I can think of twenty seven reasons of what the negatives will be, and such a short list of the positives of taking on a fourth child.   It does not make it any easier to accept, it does not make it any less painful to hear and to bear.

So this week, my “hopes” were dashed, and I am crushed to the bone, at the realization of what Kennith’s decision is on the topic of adopting a fourth child – it is an absolute no-you-cannot-put-your-hands-over-your-ears-and-humm-loudly “no!”

I can’t be angry with him as he never lied or lead me along the “garden path” but I can be devastated, and that is probably the only word I can use to describe how I am feeling right now, and of course I am disappointed with him … I can’t say I am all accepting and grace.

As much as I do want to put this post on my blog, I also do not think I can bear the platitudes of “trust in God and he will make it happen” and “if things are meant to be they will be” and so on,  I really really can’t right now …

And that is how I am this week … sad and a little bit very shattered …

The sands of time …..

Last night I went to book club, and the girls were very congratulatory about the “engagement” and they wanted to know who it came about. Did something occur that created this moment, had we been planning it and so on.

I was trying to explain the situation in the context of the week, as it was quite important and had really been a hectic emotional week.

On Friday I had gone to Child Welfare and gone through the Orientation Meeting to look at adopting. All the while being suspicious (certain) that though Kennith was sort of-a-little-bit-keen on the idea, I knew he was not quite ready for it. I was just storming ahead, and really hoped he would just hitch his cart to this horse, as so to speak!

On Saturday night Kennith and I had that giant fall out.

On Sunday I abandoned ship and met my friend for a lie-around and talk until I started to feel better. I was so frustrated and angry, and just did not want to speak to Kennith as I was feeling very raw and very wounded.

On Monday we spent the day with the kids and were out at the beach and for lunch, and then as peace descended on the house we spoke in a reasonably calm manner about what we were arguing about on Saturday. I was still angry and upset, and we managed to sort of get through the discussion with us both understanding the other’s point of view a bit better.

Unfortunately Kennith also dropped the bomb that he was not willing to progress through the adoption process until he was sure that he wanted to do this and that we were ready to look at this.

Though I wanted to go through the process and then have a “cooling off” period before we went on to the list, Kennith said – rightfully so – that he knows if I go through the process, there is going to be nothing stopping me from just going straight on to that waiting list.

He is right. Once I move through this process, I will move from mildly obsessed, to full-blown obsessed. There would be no stopping me, or trying to apply the brakes at that point.

Though I was very disappointed when he has applied the brakes, actually crushed/wounded/felt like I had died a little. I do understand his point of view and have to respect that I am thinking emotionally, and he is trying to ensure that we do not end up in “ye old poor house” or “ye old divorce house” because we are taking on more than we can handle.

I am trying not to harass Kennith and not go “are we ready?” all the time – when I really do want to. It’s a case of waiting and waiting for the time to be right for him, and taking it from there.

I am vaguely aware that a possible outcome is that Kennith may decide that this is not the route for us. The time may never be right. I am not sure I am ready to hear that right now, or consider it in my rather befuddled brain.

So for now, it is a case of taking a deep breath, and just letting time pass.

On Tuesday we did speak further about it, and some of the issues that had come through in our argument.

On Wednesday night Kennith proposed, so it really was quite a week for me – very emotional, lots of things going on. I think I just wanted to sum up the thoughts on the adoption issue here so that it did not appear that it was some fleeting project that I had abandoned.

The want, the need, the desire is still there ….

<this post was written last Thursday afternoon, but I did not get a chance to post it until now, so the timing might seem a bit odd…>

Of dreams and crushed hopes ….

So today I am feeling very bleak, sure not as bleak as I was yesterday, but still very bleak.

A few weeks ago, I had this thought that Kennith and I should consider a fourth child.  I will wait a few minutes while you wipe the coffee off the monitor that has just shot out of your nose.

To further add to my idea, I suggested we adopt.  Kennith was less shocked that I expected him to be, and was surprisingly not adverse to the idea.

Kennith was saying that he was quite keen on us sponsoring someone’s child, but I felt that the idea of adoption really struck a chord with me.  I wanted a child in our home that we could raise, who would have siblings and have someone to fight with.  Someone to borrow clothes and toys from.  A child who had siblings that he/she could scream at saying things like “I hate you and get out of my room”  …. you know all that good stuff.

Kennith was not so keen, but he was not wildly opposed either.  He showed a vague inclination but did raise some concerns that we were entering a very unsure year and we needed to stabilize ourselves before we decided to go ahead with this idea.

All I heard was  “blah blah blah what a great idea blah blah go head…” and off I went – like a dog with a bone.  Okay, a slightly obsessed medicated dog with a bone.  But my head was down, and I was on a mission.

I was in contact with a few social workers, found forums, blogs and the like and was doing an education in Adoption 101.

I have had the opportunity to speak to a few moms who had adopted, and they were so generous in sharing thier experiences.  I really got to speak and interact with so many amazing people who had either embarked on this journey or were embarking on it, and who were so willing to share thier information with me.  They gave me mountains of advise, and I kept being rewarded that this was the right decision that we were making.

There were a few negative comments that some people made regarding cross-cultural adoption, but I put it down to the fact that bigot idiots are still allowed to breath, and I need to just give them a wide berth.

I was recommended to call Child Welfare and spoke to a social worker there.  I thought the fact that we are not married, that we had three children, that we are close to forty, and not religious may play a few negative cards into our deck –it would seem not at an initial glance.

I went along to the Orientation Discussion, knowing full well that Kennith still had reservations.

I was  hoping he would just have a moment where it would feel right for him.  I was so excited, and had already moved past the calm and controlled moment to the frenzied-obsessive-compulsive-full-fledged-project mania that only I can move in to (and people, some people, love me for).

I had got the forms, and was dead excited to get us moving.  I even chose the cool pen I was going to fill the forms in with – it is all about the detail folks!!

I have fallen into this process with my soul and my heart.  I can see this baby in my mind’s eye, I can smell her and feel her against me (clearly you have got the fact that it is already a girl, please, I had already named her, I was so far down this already in my head).  Yes, I do realize that I sound like a total obsessed loon.

There is a bit of a process that prospective adoptive parents have to go through.  It generally follows the route of Orientation Meeting, Complete Application Form, Screening Interview, Training Group, Home Visit and then if that is all ticked and signed you can move on to the elusive List and wait, and wait ….

The list is the part where you are approved as potential parents and it is a case of the social worker matching you to a potential birth mother or baby that has been born.  The catch is one never really knows how long the list is – and one does not know how long sits on the list, because one cannot control the availability (shall we say).

When I spoke to the social worker she said that she had no problem with us as a couple, the one issue was that their requirements were that we could not adopt or move on to the list until our youngest daughter was 18 months old.

I thought great, that sounds fair.  We can do all the paperwork, do the medical (ours), criminal checking (still ours), do all the paper filling in, do all the interviews and so on, and then do not have to feel this pressure that it is not moving fast enough.  We have oodles of time for admin, yay, love a bit of admin.

We can get to the end of it, and go done.  Then we will have a waiting period until Isabelle is 18 months old before we go onto The List.  I thought great, that will give Kennith his breathing room he needs to ruminate over it and decide if that is really what he wants, and it will also give me a cooling off period (shall we say) where now that the project part is over, I can sit and really soul search about what we are in for.

I also realized that during the process we may be asked questions and be faced with some decisions that I had not factored in to this process.  I might realize that the emotional burden would be too much, there might be challenges that would affect my children that I had not factored into my initial decision making.  I was sure that during the process I may find out things that I definitely had not considered, and we may be faced with some ugly truths about ourselves, our motivations and what lay ahead for us.

In our Saturday fight Kennith said “I don’t think we should be adopting …” I was so angry when he said that.  Immediately I thought that he is now using this as a power issue over me, and using it knowing how strongly I feel about it.

Yesterday morning I asked Kennith a question about the medical forms we have to fill in.  Kennith said we can look at that in a year’s time when we are making the decision …. which is loosely translated as that we are going to put this entire exercise on hold until further notice.

How crushed am I?  Bitterly bitterly devastated ….. I had a little cry at my desk yesterday.  Do you know how difficult it is to have a cry in an open plan office when your stooped phone does not want to stop ringing?  It’s pretty difficult.