Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Oh Dear

stressed out Pictures, Images and Photos

I'm afraid that you all are going to come along with me for the ride in regards to this wedding.  After the shock has slowly worn off (!!!!!!!!!), I've started to look at websites for dress ideas and am looking into making my wedding favors myself.  Thankfully, I'm pretty crafty (and modest) as are my friends who are all on board with helping me plan this event.

My friends at work are ecstatic and are sending me links to honeymoon sites.  Hahahahaha...

Adoption related anxieties are starting already though.  This would be a lot easier if I didn't have my adoptive family and natural family to plan around.  I mean I KNOW that it's "my day"...and that S and I ultimately make the decisions about who to invite and how the day will go...but how the hell do I incorporate both mothers in my ceremony without hurt feelings on one side or the other.  I don't want it to turn into a Us vs. Them scenario.

My adoptive sister will most likely perform the ceremony...she's a minister and has her own church, so that part is taken care of.  But I don't have a father anymore.  And so the problem becomes, who walks me down the aisle?  If I just have my adoptive mother do it, my natural mother would be hurt (but wouldn't voice that to me...she would keep it to herself).  Having my natural mother walk me down the aisle by herself is out of the question unless I want to be completely disowned by my entire adoptive family.  Option # 3 is to have both mothers walk me down the aisle...which would make my natural mom happy but would piss my adoptive mother off to no end.  And lastly, I could just say "Screw it, I'm walking by MYSELF". 


People, I'm stressed already and the engagement is only five days old. 

Let's get ready to rumble, my friends...bring it on.

Monday, December 26, 2011

A Christmas Miracle!

Those of you on my FB now know that I had a really exciting Christmas Eve...but for those of you who aren''s the story.

The children were all nestled in their beds, I'd had a few *ahem* several *AHEM* lots (hiccup) of wine and had just finished the wrapping and was sitting on the couch watching the "Yule Log" channel with Steven.

Steven: Let me take a picture of you by the tree Honey....

Me:  What?!  No!  I'm a mess!

Steven:  Sigh.

A few minutes later...

Steven:  There's a card for you over on the shelf behind the tree..

Me:  Oh yeah?  Ha..okay, okay...but NO PICTURES.

Steven:  SIGH.

I wandered over to the shelf and opened the card.  It was one of your standard Christmas cards...I was confused on why it was so important for me to have read it right-at-that-moment.  I turned around to say thank you, and saw Steven bending down on one knee...and my heart stopped.

"Christina...will you marry me?"

Me:  Yes....yes!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011


I did it.  I deactivated my FB profile that I’d created for the sole purpose of being in touch with my natural father.  Funny, I guess I thought there’d be some sort of confetti blowing out of my monitor when I hit “Confirm” and entered in the stupid Captcha words…but there was nothing.  I got nothing…I feel nothing.

I let my n-mom know that I was doing it today and she fully supports my decision.  This is a little of what I wrote to her:

“What I’d like to tell him is this:  Don’t tell me you want me in your life if you really don’t.  Don’t say you’re so glad we’re connecting when you really aren’t.  You go off and have your wonderful life with your wonderful wife and your wonderful stepdaughters and grandchildren and I’ll go off and have mine.”

I admit that I cried a little at my desk as I went through the deactivation motions…but it’s really for the best.  I was torturing myself by putting up little notes on my wall, “Happy Halloween” and then “Happy Thanksgiving”…I’d be double damned if I was going to put up “Merry Fucking Christmas”, only to get silence and *crickets*.
Part of me feels like a little kid, taking her ball away and stomping off for home.  Don’t want to play by my rules?  Peace out.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Dear Dads

Dear Adoptive Father,

You ruined me.  I was an innocent child and you completely and utterly ruined my childhood.  Many times I’d cry myself to sleep, trying to figure out how you could be so loving one minute and such a fucking monster the next.  Did you think it was funny to lay down on the floor in front of the bathroom when I was using it, wiggling your fingers under the door pretending like you were going to come in?  Yeah, not funny.  My screaming for you to stop only made you antagonize me further and I’d hear you laughing as you walked away.  To this day, I have to lock the door to the bathroom and turn on the overhead fan, even when I’m home alone, to drown out the memories and the screams of a little girl.

Many a Saturday morning I’d be watching cartoons while Mom and C (asister) went out shopping and you’d come in the den, stand in front of me while facing the television and pull down your pants, shaking your ass in my face.  Again the screams for you to leave me alone…again the laughter. 

Then there were the times you’d flip the switch and get angry.  You’d turn into a monster and scream at me like Mom always did…calling me a piece of shit on more than one occasion.  Telling me to stop eating because I was getting fat.  Is it any wonder I ended up with an eating disorder? 

Then there are the memories that are still hidden.  Those nights that I’ve flashbacked to…but only just far enough to know that things had gone horribly wrong on some level and I truly wasn’t innocent any longer.

I have tried to find forgiveness in my heart for you, but all I feel is…nothing.

Dear Natural Father,

It’s been almost a year since we were reunited.  The day I got a response to my letter to you was amazing.  I totally believed you when you said that you couldn’t wait to share your life and family with me.  Why would I have thought any different?  After all, my reunion with C (natural mom) and her side of my family tree had gone swimmingly and I felt completely accepted and loved by each and everyone I’d met.  You’d think I would have learned by now not to trust anyone.  Shame on me.

I sent you a Father’s Day card.  You responded that it was the best Father’s Day card ever.  I think I had hoped that you would have realized that Father’s Day was also my birthday but was willing to let that slide.  I knew you were busy taking care of your wife’s grandson because his mom was going through a hard time and I didn’t want to come off sounding bitchy, but really, I was/am hurt.  I just want to be accepted. 

Fast forward through June and July and C happened to ask me how things were going between us.  I made excuses for you, saying that you were really busy and couldn’t really talk.  In actuality, I had no idea what was going on, just that you had stopped writing.  I dropped you a message on July 27, C dropped you a message a few days later and I finally got a response on August 1.  Telling me that nothing was wrong, the dead air between us had nothing to do with me.

What the hell am I supposed to think now?  It’s been four and a half months now with no correspondence whatsoever.  I guess I was hoping you’d at least have the balls to tell me that it was too much for you, that you’d rather not have a relationship with me, now or ever.

The revengeful, bitter adoptee part of me is seriously considering closing the FB account I started specifically so we could be in touch because I’m so fucking angry. 

The scared, rejected adoptee part of me is worried you wouldn’t notice.

Saturday, December 10, 2011


The backlash that has been happening ever since "The Open Letter", written by my adoptee friend has been far reaching.  I haven't had any negative comments on my blog about it (yet) but I'm sure that once people realize that it's there, I will.  The thing is, from what I can tell, the bulk of the negativity is coming from adoptive parents who are offended that an adoptee is daring to speak directly to them about their truths and feelings.

It's sad really.  One of the anonymous commenters on iadoptee's blog post highlighting the letter said that she believed that the writer of the letter was full of teenage angst and that's when I started to shake with anger.  I guess I should be used to still being treated like a child when it comes to adoption...have to wait for the government to tell me that I'm allowed to have my original birth certificate after all...but to see someone take a beautiful, well thought out message and cheapen the author by dismissing their feelings as being juvenile, well, my blood boiled, put it that way.

Then came the, "well, sometimes growing up with your biological family is no picnic either..".  Really?   I wouldn't know that since I wasn't given the option to grow up with mine. 

Why does the voice of an adoptee threaten adoptive/potential adoptive parents so much?  What is the deal?  Someone?  Anyone?  Bueller?

Thursday, December 8, 2011

A Must Read

One of my online adoptee friends wrote something...and I'm posting it as its own page on my blog so it gets the visibility it deserves.  I hope that many of you will post it on YOUR blogs too as it contains important messages for anyone who has adopted, who want to adopt or who have ever asked yourself, "Should we adopt?".

An open letter to APs, PAPs, and anyone who has even considered adoption

(What you are about to read may shock you. It may challenge you. And, hopefully, it may inspire you to educate yourself further on the realities of adoption. Please read the following with an open mind, and try not to take anything said here personally. Because this is not meant to be an attack or a judgment; it is meant to be an honest and heartfelt expression of one adoptee's experience that would hopefully bring understanding and respect for the often ignored portion of the adoption equation.)

To all adoptive parents, hopeful adoptive parents, and anyone who has ever even considered adoption:

Being adopted hurts. Being adopted is hard. It is not beautiful; it is brutal, it is tragic, it is a cause for great sadness. For in order for a child to even be available for adoption, that child must first go through some sort of tragedy; whether that be abuse, hunger, homelessness, neglect, or even the simple fact that he or she is losing the life and family he or she was born into. This makes adoption a thing to mourn; not a cause for celebration or joy. To be joyful about adopting a child is to be glad that this tragedy happened.

I don't think there's a soul alive who would actually choose to be born into a situation where being relinquished for adoption, voluntarily or otherwise, was necessary.

Of course there will always be a need for children to be removed from their parent(s) and placed in safer, more stable, loving homes - but please understand that no matter how good and loving and wonderful the adopting parents are, nothing will ever erase the pain, the grief, and the loss that comes with being adopted.

The very foundation of adoption is that of loss - a child loses his or her mother, father, and entire family; a mother, father and family loses one of their children. And, yes, even a loss for the adopting parent - sometimes the loss of the expectation of having their own, biological offspring, the loss of a dream of having a baby of "their own." A separation of one family MUST occur before a new one can be built through adoption. Maybe it isn't a voluntary destruction, maybe the destruction is necessary for the health and safety of the child - but it is still a destruction of the very core, fundamental foundations of that child's life that will forever be altered.

Think of it this of your parents dies, and your surviving parent eventually goes on to remarry. Though you might grow to love and have a great relationship with your parent's new spouse, no amount of love and happiness in this present situation will erase the grief you feel over the loss of your other parent. So please, if you have adopted or are considering adoption, keep this in mind.

Adoption should be the very last resort after all other options have been tried. Ask yourself this - does an adoption HAVE to happen? Is there anything I can possibly do to help this young mother keep her child? Are there resources I can direct her to, items I can supply her with, can I offer her the support and encouragement she needs to be a good parent? If so, then pursuing adoption is not the right choice. Too many unnecessary adoptions happen as a permanent solution to a very temporary problem. Adoption, after all, is forever - while a current living situation, job situation, etc., is temporary and can be changed and improved. Most women who relinquish their children do so because they feel they have no other choice...but what if she does have another choice, and only needs the support and encouragement to make it?

Adopted people know we are a second choice, a "Plan B," a solution to someone else's problem. While there are some people out there who would choose adoption first, most only do so after failed attempts at pregnancy or to "complete" a family of all boys or girls or to give their current child a sibling. Adding to your family through adoption should never be about meeting some need of your should always and only ever be about providing for the CHILD'S needs. Please don't put the added pressure on an adopted child by forcing them to live up to the unspoken standard of the child you couldn't concieve or the son or daughter you couldn't produce. Adoption is not a cure for infertility, nor are adopted people "gifts" to be passed around in order to complete somebody else's life. We are human beings in our own right, with our own feelings, needs, and wants. Don't add to an already painful situation by expecting us to be something we weren't born to be.

Please be willing to be completely open and honest with the child you may someday adopt. It doesn't matter how horrible of a situation they came out of; tell them the truth, and tell them early. For the truth can be dealt with, it can be processed and closure can be found; but nobody can get closure from fantasies and daydreams. Adopted people are stronger than you give them credit for; believe me when I say, we imagine and prepare for every possible scenario when it comes to our families or origin. Don't think we haven't entertained the idea that our biological parents were the worst of the worst, or idealized them as some sort of saintly creatures, and everything in between. We have already survived the loss of our original families; don't for one minute think we can't survive knowing the reason why. And on that note, if an adopted person ever chooses to search, reunite, or just know more about their family of origin, don't guilt them into not doing it or make them feel beholden to you. It has NOTHING to do with you. NOTHING. Human beings are born with an innate curiosity about who and where we come from. For some adopted people to feel whole, they need to know their own personal history and explore their roots. There's nothing wrong with that. After all, you, as the parent, are responsible for your adopted child's happiness and well being...not the other way around. Swallow your pride, put away your jealousy, and support your adopted child in any quest for truth they may wish to undertake. Believe me, they will thank you for it.

Don't fall into the terminology trap. Adoptees know they have more than one set of parents...two that created them, and the parent(s) who are raising them. ALL are real to the adoptee. Don't get caught up in who is "real" and who is more important; let your adopted child choose the terminology that suits THEM. If you have been a good and loving parent, that's all you need. Besides, a parent can love more than one child, so why can't a child be allowed to love more than one parent? The heart has an infinite capability to love. Don't begrudge your adopted child the possibility of loving people he or she may not even remember.

And don't disparage the biological parents or family either. They may be evil people, the scum of the earth...but to say anything bad about the biological family is the same as saying something bad about your adopted child. The child did come from these people, after all; and better or worse we did inherit parts of ourselves from them. The old saying applies here more than anywhere else...if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Adopted people experience a range of issues from having been adopted...many suffer from the fear of rejection and abaondonment, have problems trusting others and forming relationships. After all, our very mothers could walk away from us, so what's to stop anyone else? Though not all adoptees experience these, many do, and to varying degrees. Just because the adopted person in your life hasn't mentioned it, don't think they don't feel it. Many will never, ever talk about their negative adoption issues for those exact reasons...fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, and just the overwhelmingly negative response they expect. If the adopted person in your life (your child, a friend or other family member) ever does talk about it, take your personal feelings and judgments out of it. Resist the temptation to say things like, "But you had such wonderful [adoptive] parents!" or "but you could have been aborted/thrown in a dumpster/etc.!" Adoptees are the only subset of society who are wholly expected to be grateful for our very lives, and with this expectation comes the need to try to suppress any negative emotion or feeling. Most adoptees won't even admit to themselves, let alone other people, that they are hurting. After all, we got this "better life," didn't we? We don't have the RIGHT to feel sad/angry/depressed. So many adoptees choose to stay silent and instead live a lie.

And, yes, that goes hand-in-hand with the child-parent relationship thing...remember, the PARENT is repsonsible for the health and well being of the CHILD, NOT the other way around. Only in adoption are adoptees somehow expected to always be careful not to "hurt" their adoptive parents; not to rock the boat or bring up something about their adoption because their PARENTS might not like it. This is another reason so many adopted people don't speak about adoption...we are afraid of hurting our adoptive parents. I know that as a parent myself, I would never expect my children to be responsible for my please, don't ever place that expectation on adopted people either. After all, their adoptive parents WANTED to adopt, they WANTED a child, and chose this path for themselves. The adoptee most often did not choose it and had no say in the matter. Don't expect gratitude. ANYONE could have been aborted, could have been abandoned, could have been abused. These are not phenomena that are solely related to adoptees. Just because a person was adopted doesn't automatically mean they were unwanted, that they "could have been" anything...they are just people who are being raised by a different family and are living a DIFFERENT life, not necessarily a better one.

Please, if you are considering adoption or have already, educate yourself. Read books such as the Primal Wound. Read blogs by adopted people and relinquishing parents. Go into it with an open mind and open heart. Understand that there is the very real potential that the child you someday adopt might just struggle with it. And while you can be a terrific parent, a wonderful guide and mentor, the damage has already been done. Be prepared to do the hard work of helping your child deal with any grief, anger, and other issues he/she may feel. TALK to them about it. Adoptees are notorious for keeping things bottled up...let them know it's OK to talk with you about them. Reassure them that you will NOT be hurt, offended or damaged by their feelings. ALLOW them the freedom to feel whatever they feel.

If you are considering an open adoption or have entered into an open adoption, HONOR that. Unless there is some clear and present danger to the life of your child, KEEP THE COMMUNICATION OPEN. Don't cease contact with the biological family because it's an inconvenience for YOU. Understand that yes, at times it might be emotionally trying for your adopted child, your child may come away from visits or reading letters and feel depressed and angry, but don't take that as a reason to cease contact. TALK to your child. Help them understand WHY they are feeling this way. It's only natural that this might happen; and in the same breath, the biological mother/father/family may also feel overwhelmed at times and pull back, but do what you can to keep the lines of communication open. Remember, adoption is based on loss, and being reminded of that loss can be overwhelming. But that doesn't mean it should be avoided. Your adopted child will thank you someday for sacrificing your own happiness and comfort to allow him/her to keep this very important connection.

Try not to make a big celebration out of your child's adoption day (and PLEASE don't EVER use the horribly offensive and insensitive term "Gotcha Day). The same goes for birthdays. For while it may be a happy occasion to remember, keep in mind that it also marks the day that the adopted person was permanently and forever separated from their mother, their father, their original family. Birthdays are especially hard; for most adoptees have the knowldedge that our births were not cause for celebration; nobody was bringing our mothers flowers and balloons and offering congratulations; our entrance into this world was one of sadness and trepidation. And it marks the day we were phyisically separated from our mothers; for many of us, it was the last time we ever saw her. So if the adoptee in your life withdraws around his or her birthday or doesn't appear to like celebrating, respect that. Understand that to many of us, it is not a cause for celebration.

I am not trying to tell anyone not to adopt. I am not saying, "shame on you" to anyone who already has adopted. What I am saying is, please step back and really think long and hard about the ramifications of adoption on the very person who is at the center of it all - the child you hope for or the child you have brought into your home. Be ready and willing to put a lot of hard work into helping this adopted child heal, to feel whole and complete in themselves. Be prepared to put your own needs and wants on the shelf and to put away your expectations, do what it takes to attend to the needs of your adopted child. All the love in the world, all the toys and gadgets and material things you might provide will never replace or erase what was lost.

Family preservation should always be the goal. Adoption should never, ever be utilized unless it is the last and only option left. Because adoption should be about finding homes for children in need; NOT finding children for people to fill a need. Jesus commanded us to help the orphan AND the widow...we as a society should do more to help famlies stay together instead of tearing them apart. Nobody really wants to be adopted...if given a choice, they'd rather their family situations could improve so that they wouldn't have to be separated. Would YOU have liked it if your mother gave you away?

An Adult Adoptee  

The page is at the top of my blog, "An Open Letter".

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Five: Holy Crap, Really? *Updated*

The blog that I'm highlighting tonight was shared with me via email and I have to tell you, I've been thinking about what I wanted to write all day.  I'll probably keep it short and sweet since I'm trying to ease myself back into the blogging swing of things but jeebus, I'm flabbergasted by this woman's reasoning.

holy crap Pictures, Images and Photos

The blogger apparently got a couple questions passed on to her by one of her online far so good.right?  The first question was innocuous enough...what has she been up to?  Nothing miraculously interesting so let's move on to the next question. 

"A new blog friend (Hi, Ruth!) read about our youngest girls' names & wondered about K'Tyo's name...where it comes from, how you say it, & what it means. I couldn't believe I had never blogged about it, but looking back, I can't find a post about it anywhere! I am blaming jet lag after we came home with him for my oversight. :o)"

Here's her response and where I realized things were seriously messed up:
"K'Tyo's name is pronounced /k/ tie-yo. Honestly, we weren't sure what we were doing about his name before leaving for Ethiopia. For us, it was hard because he was 4 years old at the time, & obviously had quite the personality."
Holy crap, really?  Ummm, not only did he have a personality, HE HAD A NAME. 
"All of our children's names begin with a "K", so we wanted to incorporate that somehow (how we got going on K's is still a mystery). His Ethiopian name is Sintayehu, which means "much I have seen" (pretty intense, huh?). We love it's significant meaning, but knew in America it would be butchered."
Holy crap, really?  So, even though the name he had since birth had significant meaning,  you figured, we'll completely change it and stick a "K" in front so he matches the rest of our brood?

Ugh.  Just...yuck.


The blog author has written another post, "Why Do I Blog?" in response to my comment on her blog, expressing my disgust at another comment someone had posted and at her post in general.

I'm saving my opinions to myself because I'm in an odd place tonight and my thoughts are a bit scattered.  Read her post for yourself and tell me what you think.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Who's Got The Power?

When last you saw your favorite (*ahem*) blogger, she was upset about the fact that her natural father had bailed on her.  Well, then her world turned topsy turvy again when she received an early trick for Halloween.  A FREAKING FOOT OF SNOW AND NO POWER SINCE SATURDAY AT 6:30PM. 

Phew.  THAT felt nice to just write it down.  What the fuck, ladies and gentlemen, WHAT.THE.FUCK.

I was doing okay…really, I was fine.  Until I left the comfort (*snort*) of my 54 degree dark-as-a-damn-cave house this morning to find my car’s windshields and windows covered by Sunoco bumper stickers.  You see, even though my town had postponed Halloween until this Thursday, a group of teenagers had come around in the middle of the night onto our street and decided my beautiful Jeep would “make a great place for a Stick-up”.  The straw that broke the camel’s back, my friends.  I was leaving the house early to get to the gym at work so I’d be able to take a hot shower and instead, found myself in the driveway pulling stupid stickers off my car.  Seriously???

::grumble grumble::  Take your stickers and shove them up your asses.

And so, in all the hustle and bustle of the past few days, I’d almost allowed myself to forget that it’s November.  You know what that means, don't you?  Yupper...National Adoption Month (NAM).  Almost forgot that it’s time to learn all about how wonderful adoption is…read about this adoptive parent or that adoptive parent patting themselves on the back for “saving” a child from a horrible fate.

Not in the mood for rainbows and unicorn farts this month…just saying.  Ya’ll better watch out…Christina’s on a rampage

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Dear Mother Nature...

What the fuck.  I'm in the 10 inches area...which has now been upped to 12 inches in the past hour.  Just hoping we don't lose power, but with the leaves still on the trees, soon to be laden down by mudlike heavy snow, it's a safe bet we're in for a long night.

Friday, October 28, 2011


I realized after reading my last blog post that people may have gotten the wrong impression.  I’ve not broken up from my boyfriend.  We’re still together…still in love. 

No.  I meant that my natural father has apparently decided that a relationship with me is too much for him.  That’s my assumption anyway…haven’t heard a thing from him since his last email in August and before that, I’d gotten a quick thank you after I’d sent him the Father’s Day card (coincidentally, Father’s Day fell on my birthday this year and I never got a “Hey, Happy Birthday” message or anything. 

It would have been a year that we were in reunion as of Christmas Eve.  Now, I have to live with the knowledge that I won’t ever truly get to know him.  I’m sad right now…and possibly still in denial that he could tell me that he was excited to get to know me and my children in one breath, and in the next, I get nothing.

I should have known though…and I’m kicking myself in the ass right now for ever thinking that my reunion with him would be anything like the one I’m in with my natural mom and her side of my family orchard (definitely don’t just have a family tree).  After all, my mom sought ME out…and with my father, I found him and contacted him. 

From what my mom has said, in her conversations/emails with him, he hasn’t told his sons about me.  Apparently his relationships with them aren’t the greatest and he is worried about how they’d react.  I get that..really…I do…but that doesn’t lessen the pain and the heartache of once again being a dirty little secret.

God, I feel like such an adopted bastard today.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Leaving Him In The Dust

When I was younger and I was dumped by a boyfriend (or two…or three) or left in the dust by this friend or that friend, I’d wallow in self pity for months.  I’d lose weight rapidly because of the stress and anguish and then get right back up on the proverbial horse and ride off into the sunset of singlehood, always searching for another Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet.

It’s different this time.  Much different.  This breakup is affecting me in ways I haven’t even begun to realize.  Our relationship started off well…long emails of getting to know you’s…learning more about each other’s lives.  Realizing that we loved each other and saying it out loud.

I’m 99.99% positive it’s over now.  While I still love him…it can never be the same.  We’ve come to a crossroads and I’m taking a different path than the one I’d hoped we’d travel together for the rest of our lives.

I’m devastated though.  I’m not going to search for anyone else to share my hopes and dreams with, nor will I continue to pray that he comes around to my way of thinking…I can’t do that to myself.  He deserves to live his life the way he needs to, and it’s become clear that I’m just not part of his grand plan. 

I guess that’s why I’ve been very quiet on my blog lately.  I’ve been avoiding discussing this part of my life because it hurts too much.  I’m keeping myself busy though.  The kids are on the go..getting involved with afterschool activities and having friends over to hang out.  I’m working full time and in my down time I’m making holiday gifts for my friends and family.  Thinking of starting up an Etsy shop soon once I get a good handle on my crochet hook again…several of my friends are on there and have had great success.  Plus, I’ve been dealing with the same old issues related to my ex and his wife.  I tried to be Ms. Nice Mom and ignore the $5,500 in past due child support…tried not to be snarky when I’m told by my ex that he is working and can’t get our son on the day he’s supposed to (if he’s working, I’d love to know where the hell the support is, but to be as tactful as possible when discussing the cat hair debacle (that went over like a fart in church).  Just a lot on my plate.  So dealing with this “breakup” is taking the back burner because if I sat down and really thought about it, I’d go over the edge.

I’ll miss him…but I keep telling myself it’s for the best.

I’m trying to dig out from this funk…and it’ll help to write about it, especially given the circumstances of this “dumping”.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011


I went out to dinner tonight with my friend Brian's sister, L (I won't use her first name here since she actually has the link to this blog and I haven't asked permission to use her name yet).  It was amazing...and it was the best dinner out I've had in a long time.  We talked about Brian, and her daughter and my kids...and we vented about our crazy, she's got one too. 

It felt good to talk and to laugh and to listen...and to realize that sometimes out of tragedy, good things can happen.  I've found a new friend.

We were just talking about that on odd it is that we have so much in common.  I remember L from our school bus riding days...but we never spoke back then.  I only knew her as Brian's little sister, not as a "real person", and she knew me as the quiet girl on the bus.  Now though, she's real, and I'm not as quiet and we're becoming friends.  Truthfully, I'm not great at picking friends...usually I pick wrong and am hurt in the end, but I can honestly say, I think this time, my "Friend Picker" finally fixed the glitches and I'm on the right track.

Friday, September 30, 2011


The service for my friend Brian was beautiful.  It was held at the mountain in the next town over from where we grew up.  They had a huge tent set up at the base of the mountain and it was standing room only.  Saw many of my teachers from high school and even elementary school...and many friends and classmates.  He left quite a mark on the that won't soon be erased.

I'd gone to the celebration of Brian's life with my friends, Tracy and Tiffany.  We were talking about how our group of friends was such a ragtag bunch.  Tiffany said that she'd been thinking about it and realized that what bonded us together was the fact that most of our parents were highly  Tracy's mom died when we were 15 from cancer she'd had for several years and her dad had remarried within a year to a woman that was really difficult.  Tiffany's dad was an alcoholic and her mother was in denial.   Our friend Shannen's dad was a state cop and was very strict...heaven help us if we beeped our car horns in the driveway for Shannen...oy. My parents...well, you all know my story.   And nearly all of our other friends had issues at home as well. 

I think Tiff was right.  But even with our individual issues, we were a tight group..fiercely loyal...and to lose one of the gang just feels wrong. 

Time for wine.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Totally Gutted Tonight

I promise that after this week is over, I'll try and get back to your regularly scheduled postings here...but for now, you're stuck with "Melancholy Girl".

Got an email from my n-mom tonight.  She wanted to know if I thought I'd be able to drive down to Delaware on Wednesday til "I don't know when". She said, no pressure...she knows it's short notice.  I wrote back, my anxiety level rising, and asked her when the funeral services were...and she replied, "Thursday".  My grandfather's wife, a real doozy and a half, decided to give the family four days to make travel arrangements to make it down to Delaware.  We have family all over the country and it's ridiculous for her to have planned this all so quickly.

So, I can't go.  I want to go...I need to go...but because of my fucking job, I can't go.  It's worse for my n-mom and n-sister because they are going to the wake and funeral of the baby tomorrow and Tuesday (again, I can't fucking go to those because of work) and then have to drive eight hours to get to Delaware. 

FUCK.  Yes, I'm swearing a lot tonight.  I don't fucking care.

Friday, September 23, 2011

The Cruelest Month

**This post may possibly be triggering re: infant death

Brian went first in early September.  A horrible car accident.  Gone in an instant.

And then just two days ago, a tiny baby...the grandson of my n-mom's best friend (who was there when C went into labor with me so many years ago) slipped from his parents' arms into the arms of the angels.

That one hit me hard because I remember going through my own miscarriage and understanding the deep pain that his mother and father are feeling.

And then I drove home through the driving rain, my phone rang.  It was my n-sister.  My grandfather passed away this afternoon, right before she called me.  I was driving on a highway so I couldn't pull over...had to just keep I could make it to the gas station parking lot and lose my shit.  And I did...lose my shit I mean. 

This is a picture of the family as we gathered in Delaware to celebrate his 80th birthday in 2009 that first weekend together...

My grandfather's first words to me when I met him were: "You're so pretty..." as he held my hands. 

I just saw him in May...and I knew it would be the last time I did.  I'm in a deep state of grieving right now and am not really sure what to do with myself.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


The four months in the title are the worst months of the year for me.  Not because of any adoption crap..but because they are the last months of the four Quarters that make up my job. 

We're in crunch time at work...and I am sick and tired of feeling stressed and anxious, worrying about making my goals.  I'm seriously done with being a Credit and Collections analyst.  It's no all.  I shouldn't dread walking in the door, wondering who's going to pay their damn five million dollar bill.

The thing is, I don't want to go back to my old standby of being a retail whore (no offense to any retail whores out there)...I'm just not nice enough to smile nine hours straight when really, I'd rather not be bagging up your shit and working holidays just to pay the bills.  I did that for too long and it sucked.

So what do I do?  I have to pay the bills...and while my job isn't fun, it DOES pay the bills and I can take care of my kids...with some help from my daughter's dad and my boyfriend..and to a very, very, very, very small extent, my son's father.  (Was that too snarky?  Sorry, his child support is pretty much nonexistent these days and I'm really sick of the crap.)  I want to do something worthwhile with my life while still being able to live.


Thursday, September 15, 2011

Four: Holy Crap, Really?

holy crap Pictures, Images and Photos

Background on the blog author: Married..has five children entrusted to her care.  Three biological, two adopted from Ethiopia.  Large following on her blog...most comments on her posts are full of  "Oh, you're so awesome..." and "Oh, I feel the EXACT same way..".  What's scary is that the commenters probably DO feel the exact same way as this author.  

I'm really, really glad all my kids are back in school.

There. I said it. The three children that I birthed and nursed and raised from scratch, and the two children we begged and cried and screeched for and fetched from Africa...all five of these kids are in school. And I am happy, so happy, happy, happy, happy, hip-hip-hooray Mary Poppins happy. 
Holy crap, really?  Fetched???  Like a dog fetches a bone or a ball???  I can't fault her for being glad her kids are in school...but honestly, I was annoyed with this post the minute I read that.


She then has pictures of the children she "fetched" from Ethiopia at the airport on the day they landed.

Underneath the photo of the girl, she captions it with this:

"I am crying with joy. R is ready to sprint like FloJo from the screaming white people."

Holy crap, really?  First of all, why do some adoptive parents do that?  Why subject a child who has just flown across the world, taken from all that they've ever known..everything a loud crowd of Rah Rah cheerleaders with signs and balloons at the airport?  Wouldn't it make more sense, if you're going to take a child from his/her country of origin, their home, and bring them to a strange place to keep things quiet so they have a chance to adjust?


Another picture, captioned:

"Insert audio of yelling and cheering. GAH, why was she so clingy?"

Holy crap, really?!?   Is she really that ignorant that she could even say that?


And then, surprise surprise, she laments about the end of the honeymoon period with the girl:

R gave us about 12 hours of honeymooning until her terror burst onto the scene. Sometimes her fear is so palpable, it literally takes my breath away. New places: terror. New faces: total insecurity. Transitions: help us, Jesus. She has asked us every single day since July 22nd if she is going back to Ethiopia. Every. Single. Day. When I discovered cashews to be a winning legume for her impossible palate, I told her:

"Yay! Good job! Cashews are good for you and will help you grow big and strong!"
"Big? Ah-Rrrremy? Big? Cashews?"
She pushes them away and starts crying.
Once again, I am bewildered and befuddled.
"No! No Ah-Rrremy grow big! Me big, then go back to Ethiopia! No! Dis is no!"
Holy crap, really?   My heart weeps for this poor little girl. 


And then we find out how she really feels:

 "Actually, I haven't had a shower in three days, I lost my temper with my uncontrollable daughter this morning and had to walk outside, I'm constantly cleaning up pee because uncircumcised tee-tee goes sideways onto walls, and sometimes when my two littles are asleep and we're downstairs with the original three kids who are so stable and healthy and easy, it creates a nostalgia so intense, I think I might perish. But enough about me. How are you?"
Holy crap, really?  Nice...refer to your biological kids as the "originals"...and excuse me if I don't feel bad that she's dealing with an uncontrollable daughter and not a stable, healthy and easy adoptee.  It's just so sad.


Monday, September 12, 2011

Beautiful Mourning

Eight years ago today I had just dropped off Chase with my ex.  Drove through Dunkin Donuts and went to Barnes and Nobles to wait for them to open.  It was a beautiful pre-Autumn day and I’d decided to hang out in one of the store’s big comfy chairs before going next door to the office supply store where I was working at the time.  I didn’t have to be at work until noon so I had tons of time to relax and prepare myself for the day.

The time passed quickly though and I got my stuff together and at 11:30am headed out onto the sidewalk to go to work.  My coworker came out of our store and said, “There you are…we saw your car but didn’t know where you were…you need…”  I interrupted him…”Sorry…did you need me to start early?”  He had an odd expression on his face.  “No…Christina you need to call home.” 

Okay..weird, but okay.  I got into the building, put my stuff away and called my mother’s apartment.  I was staying with her at the time with the kids, trying to get my feet back under me after my breakup from my ex.  No answer.  Hmmmm.  Tried calling my sister’s house.  No answer.   Mom’s cell phone.  No answer.  I walked up to the front desk and dialed my father’s apartment.  No answer but I left a message.  “Hi…work just told me to call home but I can’t get ahold of Mom…can you call me back?”.  As I hung up the phone, I looked up at another coworker, Eric, who was watching me intently.  He quickly looked away and I started to get cold and hot.  What was I missing here?

I went back to the Copy Center and decided to call my grandfather’s number.  He lived in the same building as my father so I figured that if something was going on, he might have talked to my mother, or my mother might even be there.


“Hi Bumpa!  I just got to work and they said I needed to call home but I can’t get ahold of Mom or Cindy…have you talked to them?”

“Chrissy?  Have you heard about Curt (my father)?”

“No…Bumpa, what’s going on??”  (In hindsight, I should NOT have asked him that question)

“He passed away this morning…”

“Oh my God…What???  I’m on my way.”  I dropped the receiver back down on the hook and realized that Carlos was standing next to me.  He pulled me up into a hug and said, “Come on Christina..we’re going up front.”  Then he used his walkie-talkie and said, “Linda and Maria, Christina knows.  Can you meet us up front?”.

Someone grabbed my purse and keys and brought them to me in the manager’s office.  Things get hazy after this point but Linda, one of the supervisors, drove me to my father’s apartment building.

As we drove into the complex, I saw a police car parked in one of the spaces.  Then I saw my sister’s car.  I wanted to tell Linda to turn around…to not leave me there…but instead, she got out of the car, gave me a hug and told me not to worry about work…to just keep them posted on anything that I needed. 

She drove away and I walked to my grandfather’s apartment.  They must have seen me coming from the window because the door opened before I had a chance to knock.  My sister was standing there, clearly had been crying.  My mother, Maddie and my nephew were all in the room talking to Bumpa. 

They told me that it was a heart attack.  A massive heart attack that had killed him.  After a few minutes, my mother asked me if I wanted to go see him.  My entire body wanted to scream…”NO!”.  Instead, I nodded my head.  There was a police officer standing outside his apartment…he tipped his head at us when we walked up to him.  He opened the door and I saw him, sitting up in his rocking chair.  There was another cop in the room and he moved off to another area so we could have some privacy.

He was clearly gone.   And had been gone for several hours.  I had never seen a dead body…well, let me clarify that.  I’d never seen a dead body that wasn’t in an open casket.  For weeks afterwards, I’d see him sitting there..the grayness..the mottled skin…the death. 

Today is difficult.  I’m torn.  He was abusive.  He was short tempered.  He was a man whose moods could flip at the drop of a hat.  But he was the only father I knew growing up and while I’m incredibly angry at him for what he did and for how he was…it’s difficult.  I cannot forgive yet…but I still grieve.

Sunday, September 11, 2011


I'm writing this just as they begin the first moment of silence, marking the exact second American Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. 

Watching the televised memorial ceremonies...the replays of the coverage from that fateful day in 2001...brings me back to the feelings of shock and dismay that I felt upon watching the second plane fly into the South Tower...knowing that while one plane could have been an accident, two planes had to be the work of terrorists. 

I will never forget the men, women and children who perished that day...I will never forget their sacrifice.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Resting In Pieces

The stress of the past few days has finally caught up with me.  I am in the beginning stages of a horrible head cold.  Never fails that if I’m dealing with a lot, I get sick.

It started Friday with my blowout with K, my ex’s wife.  Admittedly, not my finest moment.

Saturday was actually wonderful…went out with Steven for our 8th anniversary to a really nice restaurant.  But that was kind of stressful too because even though I told myself I was being an idiot, I had hoped that it would have been “THE” night for a proposal.  No go.  But it was amazing to reconnect as a couple and the food was yumtastic.  I’ve had people tell me that maybe I need to propose to him…but that’s just not how I envision things to go.  And so, I wait.  Usually patiently, but sometimes, not so much.

Sunday was laid back…spent a couple hours with Maddie at my mom’s pool then watched a movie with Steven.

Yesterday, I picked up Chase from K again and aside from me asking her how things went with a response of “Fine” and a side of her infamous stink eye on the side, I was outta there.  Got home and was reading FBook and almost threw up.  One of my good friends from Kindergarten through high school died in a car accident while on vacation in Germany.  He was the first friend from school to die and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

Makes your own mortality come zooming to the forefront of your mind. 

I immediately called two other friends that I’ve stayed in contact with since school and had to deliver the news to them because I didn’t want them to see it on FBook first.  What comforted me was telling them both at the end of the calls that I love them…and hearing them say it in return.  We may not be invincible beings, but we are human beings and feeling love was something I really needed last night.

And so, to Brian, rest in peace my friend.  You were an amazing person and I will never forget you.  We spent many a car ride home from school and Peer Leadership meetings blasting the radio, singing along to Elton John and Neil Diamond at the top of our lungs.   You were the person who coined my nickname “Steener”, said in the funny voice of our Physics teacher.  You were the one who helped me pass Geometry in our sophmore year.  You were the one who was unafraid to get up in front of the entire school and lip sync to Copacabana, dressed like Barry Manilow.  You were brilliant in life..and you are brilliant in death.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Calm, Cool and Cat Hair Free

I've had the night to think about the events of the past week and have decided that since what I set out to do was ultimately accomplished, I  need to move on and stop getting myself worked up about the situation.  Because of that, I've edited the two posts I had written about the cat hair debacle and saved them as drafts. 

What I *should* have done yesterday instead of letting myself get goaded into a fight was to just say, "There are Chase's clothes...Here is a box he can use for his clothes while he's at your house...if B needs to speak to me, he can call or email."  And just gotten in my car and left.  THAT would have been the "bigger person" thing to do.

Instead I found myself getting defensive for not wanting my son to bring cat hair home after a weekend at his father's house.


Back to your regularly scheduled Christina very

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

On The Brink

My girl's going to be in sixth grade tomorrow.  Middle school. 

Let's just sit with that one for a few moments, shall we?




Sorry, I had to breathe into a paper bag...was hyperventilating there for a second.

When I went to middle school, I had to wear my sister's hand me downs (not that there is anything wrong with hand me downs, but when your sister had to wear "the wrong" kind of clothes, and you get to wear them four years later, things are bound to start off badly.  I also still had my ugly ass glasses...and the lamest haircut known to man, woman, child and poodle.  Sigh. 

I think back to those horrible years and then I look at Madelyn with her long, brown hair, face full of cute freckles, eyelashes that which even Snufflelupagus would be jealous...and I'm happy.  But what's even better?  She's happy.  She's everything that I wanted to be...and that means the world.

Does that make me sound shallow?  I don't mean to sound that way.  I just mean that I always wanted to be one of the "cool kids"..and I don't mean one of the cheerleaders or jocks...I mean that I wanted to be confident.  I wasn't...Madelyn is.  It's pretty awesome to watch her grow. 

My a-mother called me on the way home from work...this is how THAT went:

Me:  Hello?

AMom:  Hi!  Just calling to see what time the kids are getting on the buses tomorrow? 

Me:  Well, Maddie catches the bus at 6:50 and Chase's bus comes at 8:10. 

AMom:  Wow, Maddie has to leave early, huh?  Well, do you mind if I come over and take pictures of them getting on the bus?

Me:  (short pause)  Ummmm, so, I don't think Chase would mind if you took a picture of him getting on the bus but I doubt Maddie is going to want us to snap a photo of her leaving for middle school..(nervous laugh).

AMom:  (long pause)  Oh...OH..right!  Well, how about I come earlier and we can take some pictures in the driveway?

Me:  (huge sigh of relief)  Sounds good..we can have coffee after Maddie leaves, while we wait for Chase's bus.

AMom:  Great!  See you then!

Dodged THAT bullet.  Sheesh. 

And yes, I'll post the pictures tomorrow for you all. *wink*

Monday, August 29, 2011

Three: Holy Crap, Really?  (And now the icon actually links to the site..sigh...I'm technically challenged).

The author of the post is an adoptive mother..of a girl from Guatemala. 

Let's break the post down, shall we?

"Earlier this month, a family’s world was destroyed. A Liberty, MO family received notification that a
Guatemalan judge had ordered the return of their seven-year-old adopted daughter.
This story caught my eye because I have a six-year-old Guatemalan daughter, and Liberty is only 40 miles away from where I live. So, it was hitting rather close to home. When I first read about the case, my heart went out to the family. For five years, they have loved a little girl they had adopted. I am sure they had official paperwork, and had jumped through all the hoops required in an international adoption. They hadn’t done anything wrong."

Holy crap, really?  First of all, a family was destroyed the instant that the little girl was taken from her mother's arms.  For five years, the family from Liberty, MO was taking care of a kidnapped child.  Not a child that had been put up for adoption...a child who was kidnapped.  Admittedly, to some of the adoption community, the lines between adoption and kidnapping are blurry anyway but this seems pretty clear cut.  And how the hell can the family have "official paperwork"?  It's paperwork based on lies and omissions...and it's pretty sick to support the hoops that were required in this case...since they were lies too.

But, a judge 1700 miles away ruled differently. According to CNN International, the little girl was walking home with her mother when she was snatched and disappeared into a taxicab. The mother exhausted every effort to find her child, ending in the review of 2000 international adoption case files. Once she found her daughter, DNA tests confirmed the little girl in Missouri was hers.  And she wants her back.

Holy crap, really?  "And she wants her back."  Yeah, annnnnd?  If my child was snatched from my grasp and given away by kidnappers I'd want her back too.

After reading stories about Baby Richard and birth mothers changing their minds and wanting their children back, my husband and I decided to adopt internationally. We assumed that once the adoptions were final…they were final, and we needn’t worry that one day, someone would come back and demand the return of our daughters.
When I read about the family in Liberty, I had a disconnected feeling about the case. It was happening to someone else and it had no effect on me personally. But, then I thought…wait…I have a Guatemalan daughter and she is six. Could something like this happen to us?
I get sick at the thought.

Holy crap, really?  You know what they say when you assume, right?  How does this adoptive mother know that the girl she's raising as her own doesn't have a mother and father back in Guatemala who are weeping tonight because their daughter was taken illegally?  Answer:  She doesn't.

I keep wondering what is in the best interest of the little girl. I realize she was kidnapped at the age of two. But, she has been in the US for five years. She has a family that loves her. If she was returned to a birth mother she probably doesn’t remember, she would be taken away from her family, to a country where she probably doesn’t speak the language. What effect would that have on her development? On her emotional health? Would it destroy her?

Holy crap, REALLY?  She had a family that loved her in Guatemala.  She wasn't given the chance to grow up with her natural mother...she was KIDNAPPED.  Who is anyone to say what a two year old remembers about her mother...and why does that matter at all anyway??  She was taken away from her family...taken away to a country where she didn't speak the language.  I'm sure that had a huge effect on her development..both physical and emotional.  I can't speak for the little girl in this case, but I can tell you that as an adoptee, the thought of anyone supporting her staying with people who had a part in taking her from her homeland destroys me and hurts my heart.

Sunday, August 28, 2011


Sorry for the jumpiness of the video..I suck as a photographer..lmao.

Bands of Craptasticness

Bands of heavy rain and wind, that is.  We're still hanging in...although the lights just flickered so it may only be a matter of time before we lose power. 

Just heard from my n-mom.  A tornado touched down a few miles from my grandfather's house in Delaware last night.  Thank goodness they were smart and evacuated when they were given the order.  Yikes!   Still waiting to hear from my n-aunts down in Corolla, NC.  I hate waiting!!!

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Battened Hatches

She's coming...Hurricane Irene is heading up the East Coast towards Massachusetts and my front door.

This morning's weather was quiet...even sunny for awhile.  The kids went outside to ride their bikes with their friends up the street, I went out and topped off my jeep's gas tank and picked up some cash from the ATM while Steven puttered around the outside of the house getting things put away. 

We went out to was cloudy but not a speck of rain yet.  Fast forward to an hour later and we left the restaurant (Red Robinnnnn...YUM!) in tropical, torrential downpouring thunderstorm.  Yikes.  It died down as we drove north to our house but now, three hours later it's pouring again and the road outside has become a river.

We're bracing for over seven inches of rain here along with strong winds and wind gusts.  Now I'm hunkered down in front of the television watching the weather updates. 

My natural mother and grandfather's wife have evacuated from coastal Delaware and moved inland.  I believe they've moved my grandfather to a hospice/rehab facility for the duration of the storm.  My natural aunt and her partner live on the Outer Banks of North Carolina...last I heard via FB update, they were staying put but in the next breath said that the neighbor's siding had started to fall off.

Steven and I kept ourselves busy this afternoon and cleaned and organized Chase's's amazing how many clothes one little boy can have but we did weed through all of it and have figured out a better, more manageable system to deal with the remaining items.

Madelyn is in her room, also cleaning and organizing.  I told her that she needs to get rid of the "little girl" stuff that she's kept since she was four and start moving towards making it a room fit for a middle school tweenager.  Yikes.  That scares the bejeebus out of me just to

I know this post is all fluff but I am a bit nervous about this stupid storm and just had to babble for a few.  I'll try and update later tonight with our status.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Two: Holy Crap, Really?

Apparently I'm back in the game  I was going to write one HCR post a week but the blogs/sites keep falling in my lap.

holy crap Pictures, Images and Photos

I was perusing my Google Reader yesterday, right after I wrote my last post, and came across this gem.

Actually, I could just post the title of the post, "You Know You Are Ready to Start Thinking About Maybe the Possibility of Adoption When…" (Holy Crap, Really?) and leave it at that but I'll choose some of the items from the list and go from there.

You find yourself noticing families that don’t obviously match and wonder if they were created by adoption.
Holy Crap, Really?  Yeah, actually I do the same thing...and then I think about the child and weep.

You make note that these families act kind of like other families.
Holy Crap, Really?  Funny how necessity is the mother of invention.

You make a second note that these families, especially the parents, look happy.
Holy Crap, Really?  Wait...WHAT???

When you hear of a tragedy in another country, such as the Haitian earthquake, rather than just thinking “How sad”, you think “Hey, there may be kids who need parents, and here we are parents-in-the-waiting who need kids. Humm, I wonder???”
Holy Crap, Really?  YOU DON'T NEED KIDS.  Period..end of story.

Just the tiniest little piece of you is more curious than afraid of the thought of adopting, while the rest of you is still terrified and feels like adoption would be giving up.
Holy Crap, Really?   Wow.  At least this person is honest, right?

You start to find those lists of famous adopted people fascinating Who knew that Steve Jobs and Faith Hill were adopted? They even seem pretty normal.
Holy Crap, Really?  "They even seem pretty normal."  Oh, what, as opposed to all of us angry, bitter adoptees floating around the blogosphere??

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

One: Holy Crap, Really?

The blog that I have chosen to highlight for my first HCR post is that of a Potential Adoptive Parent.
holy crap Pictures, Images and Photos

The nursery is being is being bought...paperwork is being completed...the fate of seeing "their" baby's face is in the hands of another person...and if you don't watch your back, she'll call her Case Manager on you!

Holy Crap, Really?

This couple is going to be adopting from Ethiopia.  Currently, they are 15 in line for a girl and 5 for a boy.

She offers up several reasons for why things might slow down for them though (I'm not quoting all of them here but you can read the post for yourself):

It is the "rainy season" in Ethiopia. This happens every fall for about two months. This season means that courts are closed, so families that have not been to court will have to wait until October when court reopens to go or be given a court date. This always causes a backlog, so the next few months will slow down. Add to that, the Ethiopian MOWA department is processing fewer cases than years before, so families are not typically passing court when they go- a specific letter has been delayed for most families so the families have to come home from the first trip and wait until they get court clearances to then be given an embassy date... this means the whole process of the two trips takes longer. So the babies that are already at Hannah's Hope will be there longer than "normal" so it means less children are coming in... does that make sense?

Holy Crap, Really?  I mean, this woman is actually lamenting the fact that there will be less kids coming into the orphanage???  And damn those court backlogs too...Don't they know that nothing should keep a person from getting child?  Not even the Ethiopian rainy season!!

Several orphanages closed in Ethiopia, including one that AGCI contracts with. Hannah's Hope, the transition home that our baby will come from, partners with several government orphanages including one that just shut down. These orphanage closures were for many reasons, including the Ethiopian government wanting to find an alternative solution to the orphan problem aside from international adoption.

Holy Crap, Really?  Let's gloss over the fact that the Ethiopian nation probably wants to be sure that the kids they are giving away weren't actually stolen from their families, shall we?  Shame on their government for wanting to get away from child trafficking, right?

Some families have been referred children that were at one of these now closed orphanages, and their cases will require more time and work- so these children won't come home on a "normal" time frame. (Please pray for these families and children!!!)

Holy Crap, Really?  I mean, REALLY?  I'm supposed to pray that orphanages open back up so children "come home on a 'normal' time frame"?  What the hell does that even mean?

And then there is this:

We knew we had a desire to adopt, but we didn't know from where. The domestic options were much more affordable, but they tend to be much more unpredictable and sometimes a longer process. Additionally, we do not know how long we will live in North Carolina, so we didn't feel that a domestic adoption would suit our situation.

So with the decision made to go international, the options seemed to be too numerous to count. However, we quickly realized that our options were actually very small. Each country has certain criteria you must meet if you want to adopt. We realized that our age, our length of marriage, and our income limited us to only two countries: Bulgaria and Ethiopia. After conversations with our friends who have adopted from Ethiopia as well as our agency, we decided that Ethiopia was the right choice for us.

Holy Crap, Really?  They aren't adopting domestically even though it's cheaper because it's a longer process...WE WANT A BABY NOW!  Their options were limited though because they didn't fit certain criteria...they are young, haven't been married long enough and they don't make enough money.  Excuse me if I don't have ANY sympathy for this couple.

And yes folks, they WILL be celebrating Gotcha can bet on it.

Milestones. As an adoptive parent, milestones are treated differently. You may miss significant milestones, like the first smile/craw/laugh/walk/birthday. But with adoption, you get to not only celebrate birthdays, but can also celebrate "gotcha days" when a baby finally becomes an official part of the family. With pregnancy, you get to watch the milestones from the beginning, even with the development in the womb during ultrasounds.