True to Holiday Form

I’ve been bouncing ideas around in my head for that annual form letter to send ’round to the more distant family and friends. You know the one, where you try to sum up the whole year in a single clever page? Usually goes something like this.

Hey Folks!, We are all Hallmark happy and fuzzy here.  Everything is a Kodak moment and we are all thinner, happier and better employed than ever before.

I don’t write a holiday letter every year.  But, I do actually enjoy getting them.  It is so nice to hear how well those people you knew (better, once) are doing now.  I especially like the ones with lots of photos of the kids.  Christmas cards are nice, they are pretty, you can hang them up so you can play “Look how many people care enough about ME to send a card.” with visiting neighbors.  But I prefer the letters, even a form letter seems pretty intimate compared to the flourish of a signature you only see once a year.  

Currently, the only person we get a card from that contains more than a single handwritten line (All the best in the New Year!) and a signature is from the woman we bought our house from more than 10 years ago.  She normally fills that whole left side of the card with a real hand written note.  She writes about the weather in Florida, what she noticed about our house the last time she came North to visit friends, just random, unimportant stuff.  But strangely I treasure those cards.  So, much effort just to say “Hi” to someone she hardly knows.  I guess that is I why I feel like a form letter is the least I should produce. Not to mention that maybe somebody else might be sappy enough to enjoy it.

I’m a bit more motivated to write it this year because I have real news to share.  But it is bad news.  Do I break the “Happy Hallmark” tradition and just put it all out there?  ”Adoptions in Vietnam have closed.  We are S.O.L and feeling too beat up by the process to continue on to other options.”  Or do I continue the illusion that tradition demands?  Those who know us well, know the situation.  Should I just send a cheery note saying “We are GREAT!  We are doing just GREAT!  No need to worry about us.”  and ease the minds of those who care?  But, that leaves the vague masses uninformed, and leaves me answering the “Are you still going to adopt? and Why not?” questions for a long time to come.  That may not seem like a bad option until you consider that emotionally those questions sound like “Hey, how’s that dead baby doin’?” to me.  

Realistically, I just need to pretend that all is hunky-dory.  That kind of news is just not meant for a Holiday Greeting.  But it sure would be nice just to unload that baggage because I am so tired of lugging it around.

 

Another Month

Another month has gone by and where am I?  Un-tethered, adrift.  Mostly un-motivated.  I would say that I’m sort of sleep walking through my days, but that would mean I’d feel better rested, right?

Readjusting to work has been hard and slow.  It has a been a busy and tumultuous time there;  a challenge without the additional stress of our adoption woes.  I am dealing with it all pretty well right now, but I’ve noticed that I get flustered and stressed more easily.  And that I’m likely not to care when I should.  I’m normally pretty invested in my work, but not now.  And I just feel tired.

On top of it all I’m starting to have guilt over my sadness.  I have so much for which to be thankful.  What right do I have to be sad when there is so much real suffering in the world.  And still, I feel like I’m being cheated out of something I deserve.  I feel like I’m a really good parent.  Why is it I have to go without children I really want when there are people who have kids they don’t want, abort children they don’t want, or just ignore or abuse the children they have?  

I don’t have to go without though.  I have just lost the energy for the fight.  It is just so ironic to me that I have to fight so hard for what others come by accidentally. I can’t help but think that we are being cruel to our daughters by giving them baby dolls from the moment they are physically able to hold them.  Sure our daughters dream about being princesses and pop-stars and all sorts of impossible (or at least highly unlikely) things.  But after a time, they grow to see the impossibility of these things on their own.  And then, about the time they have cast off their tiaras, we reinforce the dream of motherhood by explaining to them that they are each capable of a greater miracle.  But we never once tell them that there is the possibility that becoming pregnant may be just as impossible as becoming a princess.  Yes, it would be hard to hear, hard for us to say, but shouldn’t they know?  

When I was working through IVF I had friend who was going through a difficult pregnancy.  Her life was in jeopardy as well as the child’s.  As I listened to another friend describe what was happening I suddenly realized that even if I became pregnant via IVF I was still not “home free”.  There was still the possibility that I or the child, or both might have complications or even die.  The reality hit me hard and suddenly.  I had to leave the room to compose myself.  How I wish that some one had told me or even just gave me something to read so that I could ease into that idea. Or just always have known in the same way that we are taught to tell our children about adoption from the time they are very young, so they just always knew.