flares

I sat on my hands when the latest NY whatever adoption article came through. I saw the article about the State Department number of international adoption showed up in the paper, read it, had a few words with M about it, and buttoned up. Read more today about a kid raised on violence and now charged with 5 counts of murder... the senseless waste of his potential... and then I read the article about how more younger couples are going though IVF.

The article featured a young couple in their 20s going through their second round of IVF, unsuccessfully, I might add. It wrenched at me, to hear their hope and wails of anguish reported in the paper for strangers to read, so like our own except not plastered all over the state. I thought, "Should I blog about this?" Then I realized that I was in a really bad mood. Yes, I was angry. I was *pissed*, as we say in the States, stinking mad. I was mad that they had been unsuccessful. I was mad that the paper did a fuckin feature on this. I was mad, even that they had what seemed like an accurate depiction of the odds of success--1 out of 16 eggs of every woman under 35, or 21% for women *over* 35. I was even mad at the thought that some assholes would take this to complain about those poor f3tuses that don't survive. What about those of us who DO survive that experience?? I was just mad with a low-grade growl of ire.

I realized that I can't even write about these small stings. I don't even WANT to. it seems so trite to catalogue the ways in which the world is obliviously misinformed about such things. It's not worth it to me to drag the carcass out again to chew it over at any opportunity. I have to think about it as little as possible or spend my days in outrage.

I don't know why I just now noticed that I am so angry. I'm not angry all the time, at everything. I'm mostly happy, feeling good about my marriage, my work, about life. But it's all the things that have gone wrong, the limitations and misdirections and bio-mistakes that have frustrated and hurt us for years, all the unfairness of the situation.

There's no one place to put the anger. It's not that I can direct it to anyone in particular, and that's perhaps just as well. I don't want to dump this load of shit on an innocent bystander. So I avoid even reacting, thinking, feeling. Obviously, I have lots of work to do to resolve this, but I'll be damned if I am hurried along in this.

M is very good to talk to. I can't even remember what he said, but it was very validating, very wise. God, I love that man.

I think he said that IF leaves an indelible mark on a person. He reminded me of friends we know who went through a similar hell, how he had casually asked them something, even years before we went through our own shit... and even though they are a good 10 years older than we are and went through their IF stuff 30-40 years ago, it was clear that it still hurt. She told me once that they had had their kids names picked out in *high school*. She also told me once, "When I see someone with their child, it still hurts a little, inside." What she meant was, it hurts a lot, frequently. And it still hurts us, now. You can't wipe that away and pretend it doesn't matter.

M's opinion is that I am in a stronger place with the pain because I am more angry than depressed about it, that somehow the anger means that I am taking back some power for myself in this place of helplessness. It's an interesting theory... I agree with it in other contexts, but not sure how I feel about that here.

I could say the anger concerns me, but that would not be so. It's a righteous anger, and nobody can take that away from me because it would be "better" for me to let it go. I'm not letting it go, because honey, then I would be depressed, and I don't want to live there any more. If I didn't have my anger, I wouldn't have a place to put my helplessness, and let me just say that would be totally self-destructive for me. So the anger serves some function. But then where do I put my anger? Ah, ha! I will tell you.

I think I don't want to think or feel it much because I *don't* have anywhere to put it. I don't want to live in that town. But when these little jabs come out, it flares up again. So I look at it, acknowledge it, maybe even have a conversation. Then I bank the fire back, put it back in the box in the back of the closet so I can go out and live the rest of my life. Better living through judicious repression, I tell you.

Yes, I'm still angry. I think it will always be there.

* * *

Coming up on Transitions

* * * *
First let me get some snippets out of the way.

My cat, he is bugging me. Cat! When you want attention, you stretch up to my leg and scratch the chair, sometimes snagging me as well. Stop it; it hurts. Then, after I invite you up, you fake a jump, then purr loudly at my feet instead of just jumping up like I know you want to do. And no, I am not going to pick you up simply to make your life easier. Jumping into my lap is some of the only exercise you get. If I deprived you of that, soon, you'd be able to move even less! I will not indulge your learned helplessness. Work those muscles! ...Okay, now you're good. Just try not to interfere with my typing, okay?

* * * *
It was summer forever and now the backs of my hands are all cold again. What happened? Oh, my usual circulation. It's the first week of cold hands for the next several months.


* * * *
I mentioned mid-life transition in my last post. The cliche is that you turn 40 and run off with the cabana boy or buy a red convertible. It never occurred to me that such a thing would have anything to do with *me*.

Well, it turns out, it happens to just about everybody. My theory is that it's only a crisis if you deny it or resist the change until it blows up in your face.

Also, apparently, mid-life transition typically starts rumbling in the mid-thirties.

But in my early-mid-thirties, I did not know any of this. I was in a job that I enjoyed, but under management that drove me crazy. I couldn't really move laterally, so I ditched it and went in a new direction, went back to school, threw myself into this. It was so good for me, both the direction and the being back in school, learning new competencies. I was also lucky that at that point, my husband-to-be was extremely supportive.

I was also feeling some unsettled moods... not really moods, but underlying rumblings of existential portent.

Then we went away on the other side of the country for one Summer. One of those extended conferences. The plan was that I would entertain myself while M was in class/meetings all day, then we'd travel and sight-see on the weekends. Not a problem to entertain myself. I bring projects, I get a local library card, I go on local tours and bird-walks, that kind of thing. I'd have fun exploring the area during the day. And we sure did have fun traveling and sight-seeing.

Yeah, so it turned into a mini-retreat. Or a major retreat. It turns out that in that area, one could not spend that much time outside. I spent a LOT of time inside, listening to music, reading, writing, dreaming. I mostly loved it. I was a respite from my everyday life, keeping me so busy that I hadn't had time to reflect. The reflecting, though, was hard.

I was fortunate that I had brought one of those life exploration books with me. This one was called The Three Boxes of Life and How to Get Out of Them (An introduction to life/work planning) by Richard Bolles. The author is more famous for his "What Color is Your Parachute" series, but this book suited me fine. It's more of a workbook with lots of encouragement to explore and consider. M had actually pointed out to me months earlier that I didn't seem very happy with my work situation, and that maybe I should consider another direction. He is an amazing sweetie giving me that kind of loving nudge, but oh, I resisted that. I fought against that idea that I should "give up" what I'd wanted and worked for. (Does this sound at all familiar in respect to later events? *ahem*)

But with lots of free time on my hands, I gave myself permission to consider that my current direction, that I had spent so much time in training and trying to make a career out of (in addition to the challenge of working for myself), was really not working for me. I had somehow slipped into the mode of valuing quality over quantity, and this career that I'd spent so much time on was a polar opposite from what I wanted. Ack!

So in this book, I explored all kinds of new things, considered radically different ideas for myself, even careers that I have never heard of, based on my aptitudes and interests.

In the library, I searched for things like the search for meaning. I found things like, ummm that woman who has written some wonderful books. Yes, the Secret Life of Bees (that I'd read earlier) and others. I'll edit her name in when I get a chance to track it down. She's *wonderful*! I read her book about her own search for meaning, a painful but ultimately fulfilling reassessment of who she was, her life, her faith, her all. She wove parts of the narrative together so well, but not linearly. It was perfect for reading a half chapter then musing.... Sue Monk Kidd, that's her name. There you go: the elder mind creaking into gear. :)

I will tell you frankly that SMK's books gave me solace. I was not alone in the scary straits of what they hell am I doing and what is my life.

Then at a bookstore, I stumbled across a book by an Australian author, Robyn Vickers-Willis, called Navigating Midlife: Women Becoming Themselves. Despite its flaws, the big light bulb went on, and I thought--ahhhh! Is THIS what has been going on? Hey, cool, maybe she has some insights that will help me figure out where I am going.

And that's enough for one night.... :) Love ya chicas! More tomorrow.

* * * *

Shedding

My last post showed how I love to hold onto little things. I like the special details, but still... there's a lot of crap. Or as some more ruthless, less sensitive relatives might say, it's ALL crap! The older I get, the more I tend to agree. If it's not useful, it's Crrrap!

I remember my grandfather later in his life grousing about photographs. I had asked him about the rest of his collection of family photos, and he started talking about how they were all "meaningless." At the time (this was 25 years ago), I was really shocked to hear him say that... he'd been a photographer all of his life, even had a tiny darkroom under the stairs when my mother was growing up. In my family on both sides, family photographs were part of the very fabric of life, documenting the generations, holding the threads of family history and narrative together.

But now, these many years later, I've started to appreciate what I think he meant. I have boxes and boxes of journals, letters and photographs. A few years ago, I started feeling oppressed by the vast *volume* of all these so-called precious memories, blah di-blah. I thought--my god, I've only lived barely half my life and already I have *this* much stuff??? What the hell am I going to do for the next umpteen years? And who will want to look at all that? (I had already seen my future with my parents' house full of things that, as executor, I would someday have to distribute and sort.) It was becoming a chore to store all that stuff, rearranged or no.

I started to plot ways to give things away. I went through photos and threw away double copies of bad photos. I ruthlessly tore through boxes of memorabilia and culled down to the smallest volume (I'm still working on that one; I have a backlog).

I got a Flickr account and started putting photo images there. I still take lots of photos, maybe even more than when I was shooting film, but I've printed maybe 20 photo images in the last 2 years. And I save only the really meaningful images.

Even with my writing, I started feeling oppressed by the writing I used to do. All this excessive documentation that I've been schooled in since I was a child, it's not the sacred task it used to be. Who the hell am I saving it for? Myself? I'm bored with it. For my future theoretical children or future generations? Do they really need my life notes from when I was in junior high? For my husband if he outlives me? Same thing, plus I've already shared the juicy bits. For my literary future biography? *snort*chuckle* For historical purposes? *heehee! as if!*

The only reason I can see to save my journals (for instance) is to reflect on who I have been and how I got where I am now. I do like that. But although it can be useful to return to the past to evaluate where one came from, I'm not feeling it now. The sheer volume weighs me down.

* * * * *

I used to like feeling the coziness of being surrounded by things that I loved. More often, these days, I can't breath from all the *crap* surrounding me. I just can't stand it, and start flinging things away left and right.

But I don't think I have given up having things that I love. I am no ascetic to live in a spare, blank space. I still love coziness.

But my priorities have changed. Some things I thought were so important, even some of my best-beloved possessions or activities, I don't find so vital any more. It's so strange to see such loved things receding in importance. Such goes the mid-life transition.

It's as if I have been shedding the person I used to be, and the old skin doesn't fit. It itches and binds. It's painful, shedding. Like a bad sunburn of my youth, I'm rubbing it off in curls and sheets, peeling, both horrified and relieved, knowing new skin wants to come through.

It's very sad to see parts of my old self go. As much as I cherish the self I have become, the self I am becoming, I look back on my younger self fondly. So many hopes and dreams, frustrations and learning accomplishments. I don't want to forget all that. I keep small mementoes. As one comic wit once said... Everyone carries baggage, but you want to aim for carry-on luggage, not steamer trunks.

Here's to the shedding...

* * * * *

Concurrent Thoughts

* * * * *

As the wait becomes more and more firmly pegged into 3-years-and-counting territory, I find myself fantasizing about a concurrent adoption. It seems agonizing to wait for another nearly 4 years (maybe), which is only a fraction of the past 9 years that we have been thinking of having children, but still!

My mind cannot quite reconcile with another adoption as reality though. (Reading back on this, I think--whaat? Why did I write that? It's just that there are many conflicting factors that don't make that an easy choice.) At least not yet, anyway. Several reasons. If we do adopt, say, domestically, I would want to continue with the original China adoption. But then who travels to China and who stays home with our other little one? Would it be easier for me to go? (I'll probably know more Chinese than my husband) But wouldn't that be hard on our other child to be separated from their mother? Or do we drag that child to China as well? Yikes! Then we'd need another helper to come with us, and not sure who I'd want that to be (not my mother).

Other considerations:

I am not wanting to adopt from another country. I just cannot get excited about it. (Although that could change... I just don't feel it right now.) Strange that I feel so strongly about China! Maybe I am so invested in that culture and language that I cannot envision the energy and enthusiasm for another country.

Meanwhile, even if we did want to look at domestic adoption more seriously, we'd have to take on the whole mess of being chosen as parents. Part of me digs in my heels and refuses to take part in that kind of competition. I am very uncomfortable with having to "present" ourselves to be acceptable with a birth-mother individual, and angry at the anticipated judgments. I don't want to have to hear how we've been turned down by this or that person, and my reaction is to take us out of the pageant to begin with.
My fantasy is that a child will need a home and we will be in line to be considered... Like one doctor's son who fell into their lap. Like another friend who is currently waiting to see if a baby's extended family wants them... I know this is pure fantasy, but there it is. We'd still have to put out the word somewhere. Maybe we could talk to our home study agency and let that be known, although we have NOT signed on with them for any kind of placement, you understand, so we might have to pay more money for further evaluation and representation... Although that IS a possibility, IF, and big if, they would allow concurrent adoptions... I haven't even looked into this seriously, but it's one avenue.

From what I have heard, it's the home agencies more than the CCAA who does not want/allow concurrent adoptions. So much would depend on how this other agency views that. Do I need to convince them that there's no way that we would be placed with a Chinese child within the next two-three years? Because another child would have to be at least a year old (and home with us at least a year) at the time of our China match...

Okay, and lastly, what about the expense of it all? What would it cost us to start up a concurrent adoption? More agency fees since our first agency is China only. We'd probably need another home study. At least our house is a little cleaner than during the first one! haha! We have been de-cluttering the place after years. But I don't think we'd be able to afford paying medical expenses for a pregnant birth mother. We're not *that* well off, and we're already a little unhappily stretched because of the first adoption expenses. Then on top of that, part of our current plan is for me to work more the next couple years to bolster our savings. So by adding another child, does that just blow that plan out of the water?

Anyway, I'm just thinkin'. M and I have already talked a little, not in any kind of Big Talk way, but more like checking in with each other and sharing ideas. We've agreed that if it looks like the wait will go much beyond 3 years, then we'd definitely be up for looking at other, concurrent, adoptions. We are not ready to go all gung ho for another adoption right this very instant. But the wait news never gets any better. I know it's been only 4 months or so since we have been LID, but the news, my dears, is very bad. We keep hanging on, but yes, I am looking at other options.

On another note, I have been telling all friends and family who know about our China adoption plans that the wait will take at least 3 years... Most recently I told this to a good friend who was instrumental in making us look at China adoption more seriously. I was quite surprised when she jumped in and made reassuring noises. She sounded almost defensive. It hadn't even occurred to me until then that she might be worried to be blamed for getting into this interminable wait. It's true that if she had not given us so much good information about our agency that we might have gone down a different route; that's the truth. But now that we are here, we are still committed to China adoption. I'm just looking at the wait and looking for additional options.

* * * * * *

Ambivalent but yet We Are Go-ing....

I found this post that I started last month when some other boggers were contemplating their ambivalencies about adoption and how they were or were not pushing forward. I wrote this big long thing inspired by, but not wholly addressing that question. So here I offer you my lightly-edited musings...


on Being Ambivalent April 2007

We were going through the grieving process all through our IF experience. The last cancellation was devastating... I/we were so depressed I couldn't think about anything except our massive loss of hope. We considered DE for a while... but we could not get enthused about it and finally dropped it alltogether. We finally nudged ourselves towards international adoption--we had enough left over (both economically and emotionally) for only one more try of any nature.

My husband has pointed out that none of our decisions came easily or without much agonizing and debate. At each juncture when we had to decide what to do next (another door slammed, or perhaps creeping closed), we had to reassess what we really wanted within our remaining options. We really wanted to be parents, so at each point, we had to ask ourselves what we were willing to consider.

Adoption had been there in the deep background during IF, but we kept denying that we would go there... no, no, not us, not yet... When faced with our true choices, we had to confront each option square on... and sometimes our wishing something to work did not make it a better option. We found that DE was NOT for us, DS was NOT for us, but adoption WAS (but NOT domestic).

Part of that was winnowing out what we could feel good about doing. Even though we liked aspects of other options, our gut was not completely happy. We had to go through many stages to figure out any loopholes or variations that would let us be okay with an option. The hard work was admitting when an option had failed the test, and then letting go of it. But we had to test everything to make sure we weren't shutting off an option that might work for us.

Conversely, for adoption, it was more about becoming convinced it could work for us and less about find the reasons it wouldn't work. Seeing and hearing other people's stories, we saw that is was doable despite the challenges. I have to say that Lori in SC (blog name: clueless in carolina) was particularly inspiring in showing me life *after* adoption.

It still took us a while (several months after our last cancellation) to admit that we would seriously consider adoption. This despite the fact that I had been looking at foster children the year before (which is a while 'nother story). The turning point was a friend who had gone through the IA process sharing us her story. We were interested and asked more--no pressure. She offered contact info for her agency and other websites if we wanted it. We waited a month to ask for the info and another month after that to even look at the website. But within a week of finding our ideal agency, we were reading everything in sight and feeling... cautiously hopeful.

Finally we looked at each other and both said --We really want to do this! After a, oh, day or so, of feeling cautiously gleeful, we moved on to sheer open-faced hope. A glorious sight for both of us, I must say. It was like the clouds had lifted and we could see clearly that there was sunshine on the horizon for us. It was truly like that after feeling so depressed about our history of failed attempts. So at that moment, we were glowing with that decision--as hopeful (and naive) as someone drawing a conception date on a calendar-hehe.

But we also trusted in the process. And once we threw ourselves into that, past that first blush of excitement for our eventual child, we have been prepared to do anything-everything- to make that happen. So we trust in the process and feel there will be something at the end of it.

And strangely, I do have ambivalence, but it's the wariness of someone comfortable in one's present life, not of adoption in particular. Or I read more stories of RAD or other attachment/emotional/physical/identity/first parent issues, and it does scare me. But I figure our education is the best treatment for that. I learn whatever I can, preparing myself and M to meet eventual challenges, so I have confidence that we will deal with what comes to us. So h*ll YES, I am sometimes scared about the challenges... but still I push forward. I have to because otherwise I would have to confront just stopping dead in my tracks and preparing to live without a child. And my desire to parent a child is greater than the risks.

Now, while we wait to be matched, I am almost enjoying the long wait... It's a kind of fatalism. We still really want to be parents, but as to who our child will be... we leave that to the process.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Imagine in 3/4 time, 4-part harmony:
----------------------------------


We are go-ing
Hea-ven knows where we are go-ing but
we know with-in

And we'll get-there
Hea-ven knows how we will get-there but
we know we-will

And though
we know
that the road
is rocky and rough,

We are go-ing
Hea-ven knows where we are go-ing but
we know with-in ...
----------------------------------


* * * * * * * * * * *

In the Doldrums

Not much going on here, recently. I mean, there is, actually. I have started my courses and have been enjoying them, although it's taken me some time to shift gears enough to give them the proper amount of attention. Must do homework!

But with the paperchase and all, things have slowed down to a crawl. The large packet of documents came back from the embassy a while ago. I was briefly alarmed because the authentication certificates had some Sonya Somebody listed instead of Condi, whereas the other docs had the Secretary of State's names on the form. My agency quickly set me straight... apparently somebody named Sonya Somebody signs things for Condi? Or something?? Okay, as long as the embassy has authenticated them with the proper seal, I guess I don't really care! But in that case, why hasn't this "Sonya" signed our last two documents by now? They are still up in DC awaiting the vital signatures for the last two weeks. I swear, it's like watching a rabbit go through a python..... ie boring and even more lengthy than anticipated. I am just trying to stay calm about this wait, 'cause you know those last docs THEN have to go to the Chinese embassy in DC for another intermitable number of days and weeks, and Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiigggghhhh!

So yes, I am trying to stay calm and occupy myself with other things.

It does not help when a friend asks me... "but I thought the last time you talked about this months ago, you were almost ready to send things off to be translated then" Yeah, well, *I* was ready, but the documents take their own sweet time.

And see, this is *exactly* why I don't share the process with too many friends or relatives. It's bad enough to be waiting on the minute details of the process. It's even more annoying to have other people asking you why it isn't done yet. And I don't want to be tempted to swear or scream in public.

I did get an opportunity to vent and roll my eyes when one of my mother's friends passed on some "adorable pictures" of her girls to me. Now, I didn't know this person at all, and as my husband pointed out, the question still remains: why did she know anything about our adopting since I'd asked my parents to not share that with people, huh??? But anyway, I guessed immediately that the only reason she was giving me pictures of her children that I don't know is that she had, yes, Chinese daughters! Whee! That for some reason she thought I would want to see their pictures since I was adopting. I still don't get this. I told my Mom that it was like an infertile woman having other people's babies thrust at her. My IF sister nodded her head...
I just do not get this. It's probably some misguided effort to be supportive, but again, other people's adoptive children do not automatically thrill me. I mean, I like children a lot, and I like meeting and talking to them as the people they are, but to assume that I will be more interested or like them more because they happen to belong to a particular group is just addled. And it's always awkward having people thrust at you for whatever reason.

Meanwhile, one acquaintance who was "thinking" about another adoptive child when we started the process has already LIDed. Meanwhile, an old acquaintance who got married the same day we did has had his child home two months! Yes, I feel jealous that we are that far "behind." I know they had both had earlier experiences that moved them along the process. I don't know why. It makes me sad. My husband pointed out that at every step along the way, we resisted having to shift to a new strategy and a new set of ideas. And it takes a while to get to the point that you feel good about where you are going and can shift strategies to make those life-changing decisions with some level of confidence or at least resoluteness.

* * * * * *

When I think about how long it took us to be convinced enough we had a problem... Well, I was concerned, but everyone else, including my husband, was very laid-back about things panning out. We knew so many people who had had their first child in their late 30s and early 40s, so we were just gleeful about having children ourselves even though by medical standards we were "old." We didn't realize we also knew a LOT of people who had *never* had children because of other, unexplained issues like IF. So yes, we see what we want to see. We don't like to think we have a problem.

Another big thing we were told was that there's no need to worry because "sometimes it can take a couple years for an older couple to conceive." Older meaning people older than 30-35! So we were encouraged to bide our time. MEANWHILE during all that waiting our parts were aging into crinkling balls of useless geonome material!!! Oh no, they don't tell you THAT. At least, not that you ever want to hear. Even the first doctor or two we saw were incredibly blase about our dwindling chances. Only one friend who had gone through her own saga of heartache ever told me that I shouldn't wait, and I was too convinced that we would end on the good side of the odds to listen. I was pissed when another friend was giving me grief about "waiting" during that brief period of time of "planning." Ha ha ha! So to be fair, we did not want to hear the worst. M the eternal optimist had to be convinced by repeated failure, even with medical intervention.

Nobody wants to hear the worst, even if it's happening to someone else. So when we tried, early on, to share what we were going through with other people, all we got were ridiculously blind platitudes and dismissive reactions. NO-body wants to hear about bad or sad things going on. Even another friend who had gone through her own IF story kept wanting to tell me that she "had a feeling it was going to happen" for me, which pissed me off no end. At least with her, I finally told her that it really didn't help and in fact made me feel worse because somebody else's feelings weren't going to up my odds. She's since become more sensitive. But I still end up catching other friends saying and doing things that are just obliviously mean. Like playing the odd tune: "It's so chic to be pregnant at christmas" at a holiday party so that we can all appreciate it. Someone who should know better if she had bothered to think about it. But yet, I have hid most of my reactions to these insensitivities. I LOOK like I'm doing okay. And mostly, I am doing okay. But still, it's like rubbing a raw patch to have people do and say these kinds of things.

* * * * * * *

When I saw my old acquaintance with his new [adopted] baby, I didn't press for details. I said--how wonderful and how old is now? And how long has he been home, and I'm so happy for you! Not wanting to rub any nerves about age, I opened up my mouth to say that I knew that the developmental age tended to get reset at adoption, but I got drowned out by another well-wisher and shut it again. I'm thrilled that he finally has his son. I don't really need to say anything else.

He told me that he was an incredible amount of work, but that the joy outweighs the work. And he said thanks for the good wishes. :) Can I get an Amen?

Tiny Details and Larger Themes

The other birth certificate came back from the New York Chinese Embassy. This seal is a fancy silver & holographic seal on a small green form pasted to the back of the certificate. Very sharp-looking. The other one from Chicago added a separate page with red stamps. More "traditional" looking with all the red if you know what I mean. Interesting to see how the authentications differ from embassy to embassy.

The final copy of our homestudy finally arrived late last week, with a copy of what was sent to the CIS office, and two copies of the dossier country report, one for the dossier and an additional copy.

Of course, there were a few details that grabbed my attention and made me wonder whether we should worry about them. My philosophy is if we need to worry about doing something, we should get it done NOW!

So of course I had to contact my placing agency to see what was going on. I really don't bug them that often. This is only the second time I have contacted them about *anything* in the dossier process, but it is always some picky little detail that I don't quite believe in the documentation. In this case, I had to ask about some little detail showing up in our homestudy, but not being required in a separate report. It's been drilled into my head how important it is to have the homestudy and documentation match, and here was this errant detail that had no supporting report at all!! This was after we had been told we didn't need a separate report by our homestudy agency, blah-blah-blah :) So of course, I was like: whaaaa?

No doubt this was another instance of conflicting information that messes with my head...

... Such as the *additional* issue about whether the notary's commission expirations date needed to be good at the time that the match is made. The homestudy notary has barely a year before her commission expires, so naturally I was anxious, I mean, concerned. hehe

But when I called my dossier contact, she said neither of those issues were a problem. Being the picky, detailed-obsessed person that I am, I asked again for confirmation about the notary commission expirations, asking really, because I had heard that could be a problem. At THAT, she gave a sigh like she had had to answer to this question way more often than she'd like and said, "That's an unfortunate rumor." Paradoxically, that was convincing enough to reassure me that she wasn't holding out on something I should worry about! lol

Boy, did I feel like an idiot, though. I'm also a little disappointed. I was hoping for a little more hand-holding in the process. I am mostly very self sufficient, making lists and coordinating the various documents comings and goings like air traffic control. It's only on these little details that worry me, and then I need a live person to tell me that it's really, truly okay, that I've done exactly what I need to do.

So now that THAT's officially A-Okay (and my contact thinks I'm a flake), we sent off the homestudy and new document on their rounds together, (kee hee!) like the big sister taking care of the little sister. Wheee! If we are lucky, that will come back in time to get sent to DC this week, and then we *wait* until Ms Rice comes home to sign more documents... and then send them out to the next embassy in line and *wait* some more.... *whew* It is rather exhausting at times.

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Last week, I met my mother for lunch and had a good visit. I was telling her about the current state of the paperwork process, and about the list of blog posts on "Why China" which she was also curious about. I ended up telling her more about our decision-making process (which I will write up at some point), and even about the length of time (years) we had spent trying various other options, mostly medical.

I have to admit, I sometimes bludgeon people a little with black humor and gory detail if they get too breezy about our trials. If they want to dismiss all of OUR pain, yes, I CAN share details of loss and medical procedures and injectables and such--to help THEM feel a little part of our pain. Then they tend to think oops! Maybe it wasn't so easy afterall. Doing my small part of educate others. :) heheh

Of course, I have gained enough distance from those traumatic times to use them as a defensive weapon if necessary, to laugh and make jokes about what we went through. If I make somebody wince, I am not that sorry. Maybe they will be more sensitive to stepping where they don't belong. Cold of me, huh? Okay, I do try to be subtle about it, but the impulse to be blunt IS there. I am not obvious in my guilt trips. I am matter of fact, which is how I prefer it, but sometimes that does feel blunt.

Anyway, I was rather blasé about needles and such. After a while, my mother mused that she had not realized until some of our conversation this Christmas how much we had "gone through" before we pursued adoption. Not that we should share all the personal details, she hastily added. I'm taking that as a chagrined admission that she has not always been as sensitive to our situation as she might have been. No, not really. I mean, she was acknowledging that there was more to our process than she had been privy too. That we had good reasons for doing what we do, and she respected that.

Overall, it was a good conversation.

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On a completely different note, last weekend was chock-full of performance and success, acknowledgment and new opportunities opening up. I have no end point plotted out on this particular path, but I love what I'm doing! It's so satisfying that I will keep following it and see where it goes as long as its working. It's too self-identifying to speak about in detail here, but it works so well with my personality and aptitudes that it would be painful to NOT pursue it at this point.

Even my new variation on teaching will be quite interesting. The director of the program I'm soon starting asked me what I wanted to do with the certificate. I laughed and said I don't know! Maybe this possibility x, maybe that possibility y, maybe both or something altogether different. Maybe it will not work at all, but it has been calling to me, and so I owe it myself to explore the possibility. See where it leads me...

K has been leading me to think of the creative process again. Cool stuff. As the saying goes: ... dance like nobody's watching... For me, I add: live like your whole life is a work of art. It's not pretty like some art. Well, some of it is. Some of it makes friends and family say Wow! But most of it is messier and more fluid than others are sometimes happy with. But it does not help it develop if I try to cut it down to size to fit inside a particular box or frame. Living OUTside the frame, yeah. Being open to the flow and see where it leads me.

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Fresh Dietary Ideas

Since early December, I've been reading some new books about health and diet. This is in no way related to that whole New Years resolution idea. Due to some health concerns, my doctor has encouraged me to educate myself more about dietary hows and whys, specifically and especially about the Glycemic Index.

Both books that I am reading so far have given me lots of concrete and practical information. Both books have me exclaiming: Cool! I understand this so much better now!

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The first book is from the Brand-Miller and Foster-Powell series of books about the Glycemic Index, which is "a measure of how quickly carbohydrates hit the bloodstream." The book I chose is called The Low GI Diet Revolution, which was not my first impulse. However, it seemed like the best option from library selections. I'm liking it more and more.

The gist of what I am getting is that one should chose mostly low-GI foods while getting more exercise. Here's one quote:

Low-GI foods have two important advantages for people trying to lose weight [and gain better health, I might add]:
• They fill you up and keep you satisfied longer than their high-GI counterparts.
• They reduce insulin levels and help you burn more body fat and less muscle, so your metabolic rate is higher.

There's much more, of course. I might write more later, but if you want to read it, buy the book! :) Or your library has some rendition.

I am being more conscious about choosing foods with a low-GI. Not always easy, but I'm going to try it for a while. As the author emphasizes, it's not a diet book really, but an approach to eating better the rest of your life. And since I am trying to get in shape for this upcoming backpacking trip, I don't mind having diet and fitness info packaged together like this.

And as the insulin surges and drops have been annoying me for some time, and I have been already making some headway in recent years, I am even more motivated now to make better eating choices. And yea for that!

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The other book is The Portion Teller by Lisa R. Young, Phd, RD. I picked this up on impulse in the library, and I am pleasantly surprised; it's very cool, very sensible.

The gist of the Portion Teller seems to be that in this era of extravagant super-sizing, we have lost all sense of what constitutes a reasonable portion of food. Larger portions (what we actually eat) turns into more servings (recommended food amounts) that we realize, which means more calories and ... you know... bigger butts.

I am especially interested in the idea that we are so influenced by comparative size of the packaging or presentation.

One serving on a big plate looks teeny, and so we invariably feel unsatisfied with our portion and so we eat more. The same serving on a smaller plate looks more satisfying (larger) and so we tend to eat less.

I have noticed this effect with my ice cream bowls. When I visited Italy, all gelato was served in tiny cups with tiny spoons. I do the same thing at home now-- I have several small cut-glass bowls that hold maybe an even cup total, and several little demitasse spoons. If I serve myself ice cream in one of these small bowls and eat it with one of these cute little spoons, it feels like a special treat, and I'm usually satisfied with my portion. However, if I try to put ice cream in, say, a larger cereal bowl, that half cup or whatever, looks measly! You know you have to add more ice cream into a larger bowl!! It's sure happened to me. Big bowl leads to big portion, leads to feeling like a hog afterwards.

Did you know that plate sizes have expanded dramatically in the last 30-50 years? Did you know that a serving of pasta is more like an appetizer than a trough? Oohwee, this is so fascinating. I knew there was a reason I liked using my smaller plates and dishes.

Likewise with larger "jumbo" packaging versus a smaller package. Research has shown that we eat more out of a jumbo container. Hmmm. I'm thinking Co$co is NOT a good option for me.
But even in an average store, many foods are packaged *as if* they are a single serving, when in fact a package may contain several! Eating the whole darn bag means you are eating *how* many servings? Ack! Yes, that's x times more calories etc than you thought. I knew this, but somehow it did not sink in until I read this book.

So I've been practicing being more aware of portion size. When we were traveling recently, I tried to steer myself away from the usual junk or candy that I tend to indulge in on long trips. Keeping the whole protein-carb-vegetable balance in mind (yes, it talks a lot about that as well), I chose a modest bag of trail mix that contained mostly various nuts, dried fruits and a scattering of MnMs. This way we'd get a little chocolate with the energy food, but not the whole shebang.

Well, this was a great idea, and I made sure to read the back of the package. And do the math, tho the results were painful!

This 6 oz bag had *5* servings in it! Of 160 calories each. So clearly, I was not going to be able to wolf down the whole thing with impunity. Not with *800* calories and *50* grams of fat to be had! OMG.

My strategy (one idea/strategy from the book) was to portion out one serving at a time into my hand, in this case, 3 Tablespoons. The author recommends taking what you *think* is a serving, and then measuring or weighing it to see how accurate you are, then trying again for better accuracy. It's supposed to help retrain your eye to discern a more accurate serving size.

... Anyway, I did not do badly with it, estimating Tablespoons, although I did not have access to a measuring spoon to check my accuracy. And so I ate only approx. 1 serving at a time..... and then waited a couple hours before snacking again. *Knowing* that it was actually a serving helped me avoid eating out of boredom rather than actual hunger... or eating most of the bag in one sitting.

I did the same thing with my G@torade, drinking a cup (8 oz) at a time rather than guzzling it without a thought. Even what looks like a single serving of soda these days is actually 20 oz! That's about 2.5 servings right there.

There is apparently a movement in the FDA to list the nutritional information for the *whole* package of anything.... so that we are not suckered by misrepresentation of information. Can't wait!


The book has much more about balancing portions of food groups-- I can't write it all here, but it's pretty neat too.

The six groups listed are:
• Grains or starchy vegetables (4-8 servings per day)
• Vegetables (3+)
• Fruit (2-4)
• Dairy (2-3)
• Fish, Meat & Meat Alternatives (2-3) (what I think of as the protein group)
• Fats (1-3)
• Treats & Sweets (0-2)

This is another area that is open to misinterpretation if we don't have an accurate idea of a serving size. While we may aim for 5 servings of grain, that may be 5 slices of bread OR one bagel!! Ack! Yes, even foods themselves have gotten larger over the years. She has a whole list of this kind of portion-inflation.

. . .
Ok, I realize I am probably babbling here (although it's my blog, so hey, who cares, right?), but there is a bunch of really interesting and useful information in these books. I find that thinking about food using ideas about both portion and Glycemic Index is way cool.


Now if you add the book that my husband is currently reading-- The Omnivore's Dilemma (about the development of the modern food-industrial complex)-- into the mix, it gets *really* interesting. I have read only the intro and heard my husband talk about it so far, but I am getting the feeling that it will be very eye-opening as well. What little I have heard has encouraged urges to revisit the Macro-biotic philosophy, of which one aspect is that you eat food as close to its natural form as possible, i.e. little or no processing. .... But that's a topic for another day...


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One last thought, though. When I became a mostly-vegetarian (cheese, egg, occasional fish, meat maybe 2-3 times a year), I found myself making interesting choices. I do like most vegetarian foods, and am less thrilled with meat, so it's not hard for me to be MV.

It boils down to this: if I have a vegetarian option, I chose it.

No whining about how I should do this or that, or how I'd rather eat this or that, I just made the healthier choice. So with these fresh dietary ideas, I have even better information to make better choices, and I can approach each meal positively.

It's so easy to eat junk or overly processed junk. Yeah, yeah. But if you approach it day by day or meal by meal, you can find yourself saying-- for THIS meal, I will make a good choice. Even if I had too much ice cream or chocolate earlier... well, I can still have some veggies and get myself back on track...

I find it encouraging that I don't have to berate myself for past dietary sins. I can make that positive choice if I so chose. Yum yum. Now go eat something good for yourself. :)

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