I did it!
I actually put the crib together all on my own, and it held together even when I put my smaller dog in there (45 pounds, so I think it was a good test case, although Max was not a bit fan of the experiment). I’m feeling like a rock star right about now. So pleased with myself, actually, that I think I’m ready to get started with the changing table! Who knew I would be so freakishly excited about manual labor?
The crib as a feminist statement?
Last night I started to assemble the baby’s crib. Feeling like the empowered woman of the 21st century that I am, I read the instructions, sorted the hardware, located the power drill my dad so helpfully gave me for Christmas a few years ago (my brothers got the same thing, so I imagine he didn’t want to be sexist and exclude me) and very quickly wished that I had a man in the house to deal with this. I don’t often ask my male friends for help with physical labor. I’ve been single long enough that I’ve developed enough skills to handle quite a lot of domestic chores. The crib seems to be another matter entirely.
My child is going to sleep in this crib. Because of this, I am both determined to assemble it myself and fairly apprehensive that I’m going to do something incorrectly. I mean, my child’s safety is at stake, right? But what does it mean that I can’t even put together the crib without wanting to call for some strong guy to come and save me? There are going to be hundreds, if not thousands, of moments when I am going to wish I had someone beside me to help with the baby. And I know that I’m going to want to call upon my friends for that assistance. I guess I just don’t know when I should be doing that.
I’m the super-capable one in my group. I’m the one everyone else leans on, the one everyone refers to as the strong one. But am I the strong one because I don’t know how to ask for help? I’ve never thought that asking for help meant that someone was weak. I simply think that asking for help is frequently an imposition on people. Given that I already know that I’m going to have to impose on my friends, I’m reluctant to do so until I’m in an extreme situation. I guess part of this has to do with the fact that I’m the one who chose to adopt a child on my own (the old “you made your bed” argument – as if I’m a teenager who found herself pregnant). As a result, I think I should be able to deal with the vast majority of issues on my own. I’ll save my requests for assistance for the big stuff – the day when I’m inevitably bound to my bed with some dreaded influenza or worse – the day when I try to teach the boy how to pee standing up.
For now, I guess I’m going to go home, unscrew the pieces I put together incorrectly last night, and give crib assembly 101 another try. Please, just don’t call PETA when I put one of my dogs in the crib to test how much weight it will hold.
So selfish
New changes to the I-600 process in adoptionland could extend the wait time for travel up to two months. My initial thought was so how will this affect me. Pathetic. The changes were brought about by NOIDs being issued in Vietnam right now, leading to a number of families having to return to the US without their children.
I’m actually relieved that the processing will occur before PAPs travel to Vietnam; I think it’s the right decision and it’s bound to save a lot of heartache. I just selfishly wish that this transition would happen maybe a few months from now and not during a period where I am bound to be caught in the confusion of the implementation of the new process. If there is truly corruption in the process, I’m loathing the people responsible for it right now. More so, though, I’m disappointed in myself for being so selfish about something that probably was designed to protect children from that corruption and families from being caught in its fall-out.
Obsession
All I am interested in right now is the baby. I think I used to have hobbies; I seem to remember that I used to go to the gym and play tennis and hang out with my friends. Now, I appear to be single-minded in my obsession over when I’m going to be able to go to Vietnam to bring my son home and all other things baby-related. I cannot decide on the baby’s name. I’m worried that the names I’ve chosen are inappropriate, since they tend to be derived from my cultural heritage and not his. I’ve been told by well-meaning friends that I shouldn’t name him Finn; that it doesn’t recognize his heritage. But do I need to give him a Vietnamese name in order to do that? The kid’s going to have trials and tribulations throughout his life generated by the racism inherent in America. Seems to me that it wouldn’t harm him to give him a name that is more in the mainstream. I plan to take him back to Vietnam and to teach him from an early age about the Vietnamese culture. But he will be American, too. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with giving him a name like Finn or Oscar. Am I completely off base?
I’m also obsessed with crib linens. Explain this one to me, please. I seem to believe that the theme of the baby’s nursery will somehow determine his future – I mean, it’s got to be something that significant for me to spend so much time online looking for custom crib linens, right? It was easy for me to open a savings account for his college fund, but I am never going to figure out whether to go with a safari, pirate or fireman/dalmation theme. Maybe I could integrate them all and have a mural of firemen saving a tented camp in Madagascar that was being raided by pirates?
I scheduled a vacation a few months ago, my last pre-baby vacation where I could go and do things that I wouldn’t necessarily do after the baby came home. I decided I would finally go to New Zealand, a country I’ve always wanted to visit and one that I don’t think would be readily accessible to me with a child (at least not like cities where I can just plant myself in one home-base hotel (as if I’ll be flitting off to Rome anymore)). Typically, I spend time thinking of things I’d like to do in the new countries I visit, not scheduling every moment, but assembling a game plan so I can make sure I hit some of the high points that put that destination on my list in the first place. I leave in two weeks, and I have no clue what I’m going to do, aside from visiting Milford Sound. I’ve booked my three hotels, and have flights between the areas, but that’s it. I’m not a fly by the seat of my pants sort of girl. I’m spontaneous sometimes, but never with things like this. I just wish that I were more excited about this trip. It’s ridiculous that I’m not thrilled to go (I do understand how fortunate I am to even have this luxury, and believe me, it’s not like I’m sitting on buckets of cash, this trip was something I saved for). I suppose it’s simply the fact that the only trip I want to take right now is to Hanoi. Go figure.
Daydreaming
Last night I found myself in the middle of a merger negotiation daydreaming about feeding my soon to be (I hope) son mashed peas. I’ve got it bad.
Accountability
I’m a member of a few Yahoo! adoption groups, the ones most PAPs use when researching and going through the Vietnam adoption process. When I first joined, eager to gain any data on adoption, I was conflicted by the gratitude I had for the information they afforded me and my discomfort about the veracity of the information presented. It always struck me that I was never sure whether the statements being made were grounded in fact or simply the opinion of some person whose intellect and agenda I couldn’t properly gauge. I am frequently taken aback by the tenor of one of the groups (if you’re a VN PAP, you know which one I’m referencing), in which PAPs and APs often attack each other, typically arguing the ethical superiority of the writer’s chosen path to their child.
I believe that all people have (or should have) the freedom to express their views. I do not believe, however, that all views should be expressed. I think we owe each other a responsibility to temper our desire to express ourselves with the probable outcome caused by such expression. In the past few weeks, I have watched my favorite group (that of my agency) devolve into the most juvenile in-fighting I’ve ever witnessed online or in person, with members attacking each other and, in particular, our agency. The catalyst of this battle was an issue very close to the heart of many of the members of the group, a matter that struck fear into many of the members (those like me waiting for referrals, those who have accepted their referrals and even some APs home with their children). While I believe the issue was one that should have been discussed, the manner in which it played out (with mis-information, purely emotional outbursts, self-interested behavior and demands for immediate responses and remedies from our agency, which did not cause the problem) saddened me.
The uneasiness associated with lack of information and the fear of the unknown (two constants in our lives as PAPs), coupled with the myriad other emotions associated with international adoption, are powerful. As part of this community, I believe we owe each other the responsibility of being accountable for the information we post, whether on blogs or on boards. I understand that no one is going to go through a formal fact-checking process, nor should they. I do think that we should read and re-read what we post, looking for our biases, and calling them into check if and when we realize that we might be simply perpetuating rumors. Moreover, I think there are times at which we should take a deep breath and seriously think before we post something, asking ourselves whether we’re reacting to something out of hand or irrationally. I also think we should attempt to give verifiable information in our posts (e.g., if someone mentions that NOIDs have been given, they should cite where they got that information – was it from the parent who received the NOID, directly from the agency, etc.) and that we should be responsible enough to know when to identify our opinions as such – and not imply that they are facts.
I consider myself to be fairly shrewd (some say cynical). I generally do not accept statements as facts without being able to determine the accuracy of such statements myself. Of course, there are times when I feel I am able to trust a source of information, but that is not the rule. I suspect, though, that not everyone holds this view. From what I see on these boards, many members soak up the information presented to them as if they were bone-dry sponges, leeching every piece of information like moisture. Can’t we all try to divulge information in the same, honest way that we would like to receive it? And, for those who blindly accept information online as fact, please do yourselves a favor and start to consider your sources. It will make for a much healthier discussion for everyone involved.
Shopping!
I have never been one to enjoy shopping. That’s probably because I’ve never gone shopping for my child. Previously hesitant to venture into baby stores, I sucked up some courage and headed out shopping on Saturday morning. I was actually a little bit nervous as I headed into the first shop, but (much to my surprise) no one told me I needed to have a pregnancy bump to come in, nor did anyone look at me with scorn, given that I was one of the few neither pregnant nor pushing a kid in a stroller. They simply asked me if they could help – and they truly seemed like they wanted to assist me in comparing and contrasting the various attributes of the Bugaboo and the Quinny strollers. I spent two days buying the most adorable little things for the baby, as well as getting my full use out of this weekend’s friends and family discount at Pottery Barn Kids. This is shopping I can enjoy; no cringing while I try on bathing suits under fluorescent lights, no worrying that my pedicure is too chipped to try on shoes, just the ridiculous happiness from buying gifts for the little boy I haven’t even met, who is certainly not going to be remotely interested in the vast majority of these purchases. I’ll remind myself of this feeling when I’m on my hundredth trip to Costco to buy wipes and formula, I’m sure, but for now, I’m going to enjoy it. And, no, Mom, I didn’t spend $1000 on the stroller. Even in my euphoria, I restrained myself and got the Zapp (yes, this is the color).
What I’m wondering about today
Do people actually decline referrals for children in Vietnam? Personally, I can’t imagine doing so. I imagine it happens in countries where fetal alcohol syndrome is a real possibility. But in Vietnam, where the children appear to be relatively healthy, if a PAP is given a referral where the medical info does not indicate a likelihood of special needs, I wonder whether those people might still choose to pass on a child. I guess it’s possible that a PAP might decline a referral for a child with minor needs, like anemia, but I wonder how often it happens. What if the circumference of the child’s head is smaller than it should be (indicating a possibility of FAS or mental retardation)? Mis-measurement of the circumference evidentally is very common. Would something as minor as that be sufficient to make a PAP say no to a child? Do people decline referrals because of the appearance of the child? I’ve got to think that after all that goes into getting to the point of obtaining a referral, you would simply fall in love with the child no matter what. But, people never cease to surprise me, so maybe some would walk away from a child who didn’t meet their expectations regarding physical appearance. I, of course, type this confident that the child that will be referred to me will be the most beautiful baby ever. At least to me . . .
How did I get here?
So, I started this adoption process months ago, not really having any idea of what it would entail. Before applying to an agency, I spent days (ok, weeks) reading other people’s blogs, gleaning as much information as I could about their process and frequently wondering why on earth these people would choose to share so much intensely personal information with the world. I’m starting to understand now.
I don’t believe that I know anyone who has actually adopted a child. I know a lot of people, but apparently all are either fertile or childless by choice. No one, it seems, in my fairly wide circle of friends and acquaintances have, themselves, adopted a child. I find that somewhat startling. I know many people who were adopted, but none who have made the choice to adopt on their own. As a result, I am constantly feeling like I am alone in this process.
No one seems to really understand what it’s like to wait for a referral or to feel completely out of control in one of the most fundamental and important life experiences. I’m kind of tired of having same “conversation” over and over about the adoption – Friend: “Do you have a baby yet?”; Me: “No, maybe I’ll be in the next batch”; Friend (awkwardly): “Oh…”. My closest friends have stuck with me through more substantive discussions (mainly confused, ranting monologues on my part) on gender selection, child care, etc., but even with them, I have to say that it’s as though they’re not really involved. I’ve had a close friend tell me that she would talk with me about childcare options “when the time is more appropriate; it’s far too early at this stage.” Really? I seem to remember her obsessing over whether she’d hire a nanny when she was three months pregnant, and it didn’t seem far too early then.
I suppose that my hope for this blog is that I’ll be able to share some of my confusion (and at times frustration) with others that are going through this process as well. This international adoption thing is far more difficult than I had ever contemplated. I look forward to getting to know some of you.
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Etta’s Hats
Where I’ve Been
