And another woe is me

I feel I have lost my home in the foro/blogo/yahoo-sphere. I am it is true heavily reliant on this form of social networking to make me believe I still exist.

I am no longer trying to get pregnant, and no longer getting pregnant though infrequently, and no longer going through the monthly cycle of disappointment, or the annual cycle of short or slightly longer pregnancies followed by miscarriages.

I'm also no longer in the preparation or pre-approval, home study stage of adoption - which takes quite a while in the UK, and which is worth chatting about. And I can't get advice from other UK approved adopters since the matching process is so different. Perhaps if we had a match, I could ask about some of the issues other approved adopters ask about (drugs, genetic conditions, that kind of thing) but to be honest, I trust my own research more than anyone else's.

Yet we're not quite in the waiting stage, when I could be in more or less the same position as other waiting US domestic adopters, except, anywhere I don't have quite enough anonymity, I wouldn't want to reveal that we aren't quite in the same position. And still, such things as asking for advice or discussing agencies would require me to disclose more about our position than I'm comfortable with. In fact, since our paperwork still hasn't reached Official Hague Person, we aren't even in the same position as people we should be in the same position as. Also, we can't attend groups such as waiting adopters' support groups. So that feels a little lonely too.

We did print out our final version of our profile for Nice Little Agency and it is ready to mail; we think perhaps after Christmas to avoid getting trapped with all the cards and parcels in the snow. If you saw that post, you'll know our profile includes a lovely shot of us sitting in the park in the snow. A lovely fiction, I thought at the time, since we live in a fairly warm and rainy part of England, by the coast.

But lo! and it shall snow buckets, and more buckets, and not quite as many buckets here as in Scotland, which is a good thing, and it shall be veritably pretty for Christmas.

A conundrum

I started writing this for some practical advice but it's turning in to more of a "woe is me", but in any case, if you do have any practical advice, please do share.

We decided we'd have a small New Year's event, really just 6 or 8 people including us, our spacious abode has room for about 5 or 6 to stay over, and we invited some people from out of town plus about 8 or 10 couples locally including a few with kids - we can't put up all the families with kids but we're very happy for any of them to crash out on our numerous spare beds if they are happy to bring them.



One couple who are really close friends said yes initially and because of that we invited most of the rest (including some that know the original couple quite well) and one other friend who's on her own said yes. Then the original couple changed their plans.



Now I've had to remind absolutely everyone about twice to actually respond and they are all saying no except this original single friend.


And I'm feeling really down about this because I just hate it when people know they are busy and it's a big-ish event but they don't bother telling you. So now I'm feeling really awful, as if these people think "oh, how can they possibly think we'd want to go to them for New Year's Eve? they must be joking, we'd never go to them in a million years, they must realise that, so there's no point in replying because it must be obvious we have better plans already."

The alternatives are of course that they got the invitation and thought "well, maybe, if nothing better comes up, let's hold on and see." Or that they thought "let's ask around mutual friends, oh, they aren't going, no, we won't bother either."

And I'm particularly irritated with the late response from one family who I am pretty sure we invited in November, who are quite numerous so have prevented us from asking other out-of-town guests until they refused.

One couple still say they are thinking about it (the husband hasn't been well I think) and two further couples haven't replied. If all of those came, it would be a good mix, and if just one of the couples came, I think it would be worth holding the party. I can think of a couple of work colleagues who would mix well in a crowd but I wouldn't ask them if it was a small party. And the colleagues in question have ignored or refused previous invitations from me, so are either very busy or also hate me.

If just one of the couples who haven't replied did end up coming, it would be fine (there would be five of us, enough for dinner and a few low-key games). I am not quite sure about one of the pairs, who are a bit of an unknown quantity, but either of the other two would mix well with our single guest. But I really don't know what to do if no-one replies or everyone else refuses. I now feel I'm letting down the single friend as well. She's not a huge party person and I know she wouldn't expect a giant event, she is aware it will be a select few, but is it worth bothering if it's just her and us??

Oh and in other news - the TMI F*eB*k friend now has taken to posting every two weeks, this time to say "not much chance of my longed-for Christmas present". Do we assume she's just experienced a chill in the bedroom department or is this code for "there's something more seriously wrong but for once I don't want to tell you all about it"?

There are a couple of mutual friends who I know have been through much longer struggles to have a family who are trying to encourage her (and very restrained too, I'd bop her on the head) but one at least has some very weird spiritual ideas so I'm sitting on my hands not emailing her to say "get a grip, no you are not going to get pregnant within 6 months and likewise saying this airy fairy prayer is not going to get you pregnant either, come back to me and I'll hold your hand when you have some idea of reality".

Just had to share...

The first is probably NSFW, but is a hilarious offshoot of those Awkward Family Photos:

Awkward Pregnancy Photos

The second is just perfect, thoughtful as well as funny. Though it could do with more paperwork in the pictures:

Metaphorical Pregnancy Photos

Don't faint...

Another post.

I am undergoing one of my periodic "I hate my job" moments. I like the subject matter, but hate the medium. It wouldn't be much better elsewhere (and anywhere better in quality terms wouldn't have me, and would be more stressful). I have always thought that I might do something different for the last 10 years of my working life - coincidentally this is what Mr Spouse is doing now, retraining with about 10 years of work left to go.

Originally, probably when I thought I would not get married or have children of my own, I considered moving into school teaching, probably with cute primary school children. I am pretty sure that would drive me bananas, now (not least because of the administration involved). I have no idea what else I would do, but it is an appealing prospect. I am pretty sure I wouldn't go into journalism full time, but you never know. Mr Spouse pointed out that anything I did that which involved leaving work, at work, would also involve getting to work on time, every day. That knocks that one out of the window, then.

I never thought I'd say this

but I have been to the doctor to talk about c*ontrac*ptive choices. Unlike various other doctors, she thought we were being very sensible to avoid a pregnancy at the moment, and didn't say anything fluffy bunny like "well, getting pregnant would just be a happy accident, wouldn't it?" (genuine quote from doctor).

It looks like the implant. Good for the 6-18 months or so minimum before placement and then feeling like it's time to try again, less hassle than taking a pill (she'd give me the combined pill or the mini pill but like I say, less hassle), less painful than a coil. I'm to call one of the other GPs for an appointment when I've read the leaflet.

It's like a car crash...

The F**eb**k friend, that is. She's posted that she's "excited" which, hot on the heels of the last update, let's see, which of these friends' comments is more likely to be accurate:

a) "because you can open your advent calendar tomorrow????

b) Did Aunt Flo finally go missing?

I can't stop looking!

Too much information?

I have a friend who got married in the summer, after several years of public "I would so like to be married" followed by public "I'm so in love with him". There has also been a lot of "oh everyone's babies are so gorgeous, I can't wait to have one".

While it's possible of course that she has a medical condition she is keeping quiet about, I wasn't quite sure how to respond when she had a F*ceB**k update today of "AB thinks it is a very disappointing time of the month." Even if she and The Husband started trying the minute they got together, that is only just over a year. And knowing her, that is quite unlikely, and they were not living in the same city for most of that time.

So, in lieu of a comment along the lines of "pull yourself together, you can complain when it's been 7 years, but until then, we don't want to know the contents of your underpants", I posted a link to Julie's hilarious post.

It's me...

you thought I'd gone into a hole in the ground? or you hadn't noticed I wasn't here?

Anyway my so-called life has been grinding me down in a variety of directions, some good but just damn busy (planning a Brownie sleepover and some extra taster sessions in schools, starting playing in a new orchestra, knitting some Christmas presents), some just plain busy (most of my teaching for the year in the first few weeks of term, but leading to a knock-on effect of mental paralysis, fighting a few fires, and now a rather major administrative job for the end of term), but some a bit confidence-destroying.

In some areas it takes very little to knock my confidence and anyone else in academia will know that horrendous comments on your writing style are par for the course. In fact, one refreshing thing about my media experience was that (especially since it is usually face to face) people are usually quite relaxed and even flattering about your writing. It was suggested that I could do some freelance work and this week I finally submitted all my paperwork, and suggested a story - and felt very deflated not to get any response at all. I've been feeling like a bit of an underachiever anyway, and this was all it took to make me feel a bit despairing.

I've been bottling it up and Mr Spouse was having an irritating time with what I call "his chums" and he calls "the wastes of space" (the students on his course who he's been allocated to work on a project with) so I hadn't really talked about my work issues. But I thankfully got it off my chest yesterday and, though I was going to write about that earlier, we had another chat about another issue which I also feel i need to put down.

I am very fed up of our current contraceptive choice and am also feeling like I would like to have some hope still of maybe trying to have a biological child, even just to feel that door is not completely closed, so I suggested perhaps we could ditch the protection for the moment. He is very much not happy about that. Part of it is worrying about the adoption process and wether another miscarriage would disrupt it, what we'd do if I got pregnant again, would we put things on hold, or what. But I really had not realised how strongly he felt about my state of mind after the miscarriages - he says particularly after the last one.

We talked quite a bit today and it does bring back feelings for me quite strongly. I feel it was really, really horrible but I survived. But he says it may have been more frightening for him, outside, than for me (and of course he was very sad too). I am coming round to the idea that I will not have a much greater chance of getting pregnant this year/next year than in maybe 1-2 years' time when we have a baby in the house. And I think Mr Spouse is probably right that a loss then would make me much less sad, that I would have something to live for.

That last phrase sounds awful. I think you all, and he, know that I was never that bad. Perhaps something to get up in the morning for is more accurate. But although actually, I am doing OK, I'm going to stop typing now because I'm feeling a little sad.

Possibly of interest

to someone other than me, anyway.

I was geekily looking up NICE regulations on infertility and apparently they are going to be updated to reflect new research on IUI, types of IVF etc. Details here.

Of slightly greater interest is the fact that National Adoption Week has just ended. I did not particularly feel like linking to anything I'd read, though it was nice to see more about it in the news than usual. I am left though with the feeling that I (and possibly Mr Spouse) are quite thick-skinned or unobservant, or perhaps lucky, as we've had far fewer insensitive or just plain mad comments from social workers, members of the general public, and friends, than a lot of people seem to have had.

I'm actually quite glad...

...that trick-or-treating plus associated tat is taking off with a vengeance in the UK. My brother and I suffered as children with a mother who insisted on celebrating it when our friends were either carving pumpkins, dressing up a guy, or saying "eh? what?". But (when Mr Spouse overcomes his Bah Humbug tendencies) we'll be able to do it with ours.

Gosh

I haven't done the someone-else's post for a while, and I was trying to do it on Fridays, and it's not quite Friday any more*, but I just read this, and well, just, gosh.

What a dilemma.

*I joined a community music group which will lead, when I've practiced a bit more, to playing in an orchestra on Saturday mornings, though I'm rubbish at the moment. It meets at 9am on Saturday. Not a typo. It is on half-term break tomorrow. I am hoping I actually sleep in!

Unawares

I've had a bit of a manic week (our term only just started but it started with about 1/4 of my teaching for the year in the same week, the next 1/4 is this coming week and the rest spread out over the rest of the year, basically) and while I had plenty of countdowns on Facebook I somehow missed that Friday was Pregnancy/Infant Loss Awareness Day until I read May's blog.

I was at church this morning on my own (Mr Spouse really needs to learn not to say "ooh let's have a curry" and then vastly overconsume...), and the service sheet was sponsored by an older couple we have got to know a little, but who've never had family with them in the services. We assumed they had no children or other family but it turns out they had a son - who died about 15 years ago, at the age of 23 - on 15th October.

I lit a candle for him at the end of the service, and thought about it afterwards. I'm hoping we will get to have a baptism for our child in this church, but I don't want that to mean we never acknowledge our other children. A few years ago we sponsored some Easter lilies in memory of one (I think - it may have been more recent than that) and, which was fine with me, Mr Spouse didn't add our names/reason to the list (you can be public, or not, usually the lilies are in memory of someone and we all know that there is a cloud of unspoken names around them). I have a feeling he doesn't want to dwell on remembering them. He knows I get sad sometimes and he does too, but he doesn't want to look at our sole pair of scan pictures, and he doesn't want to go to the local infant loss and miscarriage service again. So i don't know how he'd feel about remembering our other babies as part of a baptism service.

Moving on to marginally more jolly topics. I am feeling a tad left out at work. There is a crowd of about 4 or 5 colleagues who are all slightly newer than me, one of whom I work very closely with, I actually feel I carry her a little but I also know she's had a hard time so I give her a lot of slack, we buy each other coffee when we're team teaching, she is part of this crowd. One of the group invited us to a housewarming (though has since moved, but with a new baby so I doubt the housewarming was repeated!), and one to a birthday a couple of years ago, but I've missed a couple of birthdays through being away over the summer (I was actually feeling even MORE left out but realised that I wouldn't have been around when all these parties were happening).

We have a small circle of friends here, very small in fact, and I often feel a little isolated. But I would also like to get to know these particular colleagues (except, unfortunately, the one I teach with) because they would be great collaborators. I've tried to approach them for both work collaborations and just to be friendly, and we've never really got beyond superficial conversations in both directions (and I know I can be rather overwhelmed at work, and I can show it, and that can't really make people too enthusiastic about collaborating with me, frankly).

As none of these people are really new, I can't offer to "show them round", I guess it's hard to get to know someone better when you realise you missed your chance the first time - but that's what I'd quite like to do.

Oh dear

Forumsville.

There is a certain adoption message board in the UK (and you won't have to search too hard to find it).
The majority of children who have been adopted are those that have been abused and/or neglected, with a smaller number removed before any abuse could happen, but some of those having been drug exposed.

I get that.

I also get that we are likely to be in a very different situation.

It's just the attitude, not particularly to birth parents (and there are many posters who can be very balanced in that respect) but to contact. From those saying "what's the point of direct contact when a child was removed at birth, they won't have a relationship to continue, and that's the point of contact", to those saying "really you should not think about a relinquished child from the same town, what if members of the birth family - shock horror - saw the baby in the street"... anyway you get the picture.

I am going to have a chat to Mr Spouse about this but I also wonder whether to mention this to our social worker if/when we see her again. Of course there are other adoptive parents who are positive about contact with birth family (even if it's for preventive means, as when a 9 year old will be rational about their birth family being at best exceedingly flaky while a teenager will turn all drama queen and want to go and live with them again).

I just feel like I (completely inexperienced, not even an adopter yet) want to go on a mass re-education campaign. And I know I'm really enthusiastic, and gung ho, converts are the most irritating preachers, but still...

Not an issue yet, but...

I've just been reading Heather's post about the words and phrases we use. Both Nice Little Agency and Official Hague Person use the terms "birth mother" and "birth parents", though I may have spotted a couple of "expectant parents" thrown in the mix, and I don't recall them using "our" or "your".**

The OHP also got us to change a couple of "our child" to "a child" in our profile though it didn't seem very consistent, as in, I felt it was OK to say "we are looking forward to taking our child to the playground" though they didn't, except they didn't get us to change it every time, and obviously we would say "we would like to adopt a child", but there are grey areas and they seemed to pick up on some but not all of these.

We have not yet had our profile read through and edited by NLA themselves but they place shortened versions on their website. While we cannot control the words they use when talking to expectant parents, each letter starts "Dear birthparent". Most of the stories from adoptive parents say "our birthmother".

So... advice please... what should we do? We can obviously write our own profile and I don't think they are going to tell us "No! Say Birthmother!" but what about the bits they edit in? And what about the impression that the whole thing gives, though (erm) I suppose we might appear more aware if we are the only ones not saying "Dear birth parents" in our profile??!

**yes, they have Expectant Parents right on the front web page for the agency. Good.

My spidey senses are twitching

Was out last night for a birthday of a friend - she has just turned 36 and her man is 8 and a half years younger (NOT NINE she says firmly), and two of her friends who I've got to know a bit better recently were there. One of them I assumed was early 30s, recently married, but it turns out she's 39, married 7 years. And gets irritated by babies on planes...

I was on the brink of sharing about adoption (friend whose birthday it is knows, but not many details) as we were talking about my nieces being dressed in scary 1970s pinafores by my mum (I must take a picture of the patterns she has hoarded, they are truly frightening). But I thought better of it.

While I do know people who absolutely don't want kids (which is I think less common in the UK than in the US, I think it's more common here as we are an indecisive nation, to be on the fence and fall the way nature takes you), usually I find as it is relatively uncommon here they are quite strident not just about irritating kids or parents but about their own wishes.

The birthday friend has said she'd happily get married tomorrow but has mainly expressed satisfaction at being an aunt for the moment. I know the new friend has siblings but I think she's the oldest and her younger sister is single. Their parents live locally so perhaps they have managed to dial down the "where are our grandchildren" nagging, which gets wearing I imagine if you don't want them, just as it does if you want them but can't have them.

So I'm curious now, is this a "don't want kids and find parents and babies irritating" or a "wanted them and don't think we'll have them now, so find parents and babies irritating."

Smug

When I am a parent I will not:
Write down every single day from birth to six months (and longer) exactly what time my child slept, fed, and filled his nappy, carrying a notebook round for the purpose, and pondering spreadsheets were I more computer literate.
Blame my houseguests for waking the baby, half an hour after they go to the loo, and thence causing him to cry for 90 minutes.
Tell my friends that "all children who go to nursery hit other children, and I don't want my child getting attached to a childminder instead of me, I heard Oliver James say it on the radio so it must be right."

Nor will I:
Keep the two-year-old up when we have dinner guests, not just until dinner is served at 8 (admittedly only half an hour after the dinner guests arrived) but until he starts to rub his eyes at 10.15 pm, requiring the dinner guests who have to leave at 10.30 to play with toy trains for the evening, and to be very careful with crystal wine glasses and hot drinks, rather than having adult conversation.

Nor indeed will I:
Keep the four-year-old and the six-year-old up until 11pm, claiming that there is no evidence children need more sleep than adults. Or shout at the six-year-old's aunt (who researches children's language for a living, but that's not a proper science) for using letter sounds rather than letter names when reading to her, but then when she cannot learn to read, request Jolly Phonics as a gift.

And finally I will not:
Assume my child's Brownie leader is psychic and able to intuit whether their child wants to come back to meetings in the new school year, without any replies to texts, emails, phone calls or letters.

Of course you know I'll do all those irritating things, and more.

I don't normally do this..

OK, I do some lazy posting by picking nice posts from other people, but this is a great bit of news:

Florida lifts ban on gay people adopting.

How really very nice

Another pick of the week - I'm reading this story in installments, and feel really happy that Fernando and Robbie have had A Good Day.

How I got here from there

It's feast or famine around here, I'm afraid.

When I was a young adult, I mixed with the wrong sort of people. People who told me that it was wrong to be gay, that it wasn't what God wanted, and that something had gone wrong in the world for there to be people who were attracted to those of the same gender.

I hope I'm accurately reporting my feelings at the time in saying I never quite bought it. I am pretty sure I only realised I knew gay people when I got to university, but generally thought it was "okay" so long as the "rules" were being followed. There's a certain school of thought that if you think everyone should be celibate outside marriage, this applies to those who cannot get married (to someone of the opposite sex) too - like some who choose or are called to be celibate as a vocation.

I now realise that this was a lot to do with sour grapes. I wasn't in a relationship for many many years (and the ones I had didn't get very far off the ground), but didn't feel "called" to celibacy, so I didn't see why other people shouldn't also be celibate unwillingly. Now I am with Mr. Spouse and if someone turned round and told us we couldn't be together legally - well frankly, sod off. Sod right off.

And we are one of those unnatural couples who cannot reproduce, but long to be parents. So when a furore broke over some Catholic adoption agencies closing down rather than allowing gay couples to sign up, I was pleased that at the time we were considering adopting through the one such agency that encouraged gay couples to apply (our social worker says she is not sure they were really that open, but their literature seems fairly balanced).

But these are relatively "advanced" rights. If you are unfortunate enough to live in a repressive society, yes, it's horrible that it is like that, but you do learn to tread carefully. If you want to educate your daughter, or not wear Islamic dress, or publish anti-Government articles, in some countries you also have to proceed carefully, enlist overseas help, and not make a song and dance about it. So, having lived in a country where it is not legal to be gay, but I have not heard of any prosecutions, and knew friends who had underground boyfriends (if, er, you know what I mean), I assumed it was a case of softly, softly, changee laws.

But it is not just an issue of whether you can kiss your boyfriend in a bar, marry him, or adopt children. It's an issue of people's lives. This documentary has filming in two of the places I've worked in recently, and is really scary. It's the kind of situation where you feel like you need to do something, or hit someone. Preferably someone pretending to be a Christian.

So, by coincidence, we had the chance to hear a talk on the issue at Greenbelt. We only went for the day, which is an odd way to do a festival, and it meant we didn't get into any music, but it's more of a talk and arts festival anyway. And getting the last train back to London - was how I ended up talking to Peter Tatchell on a station at about 10pm last Saturday. Despite appearances in the media, he is very temperate and softly spoken. A real eye-opener.

Tourists

We've been in London for nearly 4 weeks over the summer and although we have had quite a bit of boring stuff to do with our rental flat to sort out, we've been taking full advantage of the capital. I have a feeling that Mr Spouse has actually seen every single museum in the city. He went to the Clockmaker's Museum the other day. Seriously. I on the other hand have actually had to do some work, but have managed to get out a bit.

Yesterday we went to Oxford (OK, not in London!) to meet up with my mother, brother, and two nieces. Probably by dint of keeping off sticky topics, we had a really good day. We went to a museum that has been newly done up and has lots of great drawers for kids to pull out, things for them to handle etc. The girls are now 4 and 61/2 and were really good all day I thought - the younger one even stopped throwing gravel in the goldfish pond in the Botanic Gardens when I told her to.

My mother regaled me with my brother's latest idea, which is that children don't need any more sleep than adults, which means you can put them to bed at 11pm and they will be fine the next day. Sometimes when my mother moans about my brother (or to my brother) I will sympathise with one or other of them, but I'm staying out of it this time, I muttered something non-committal to my mum, and I suspect my brother won't moan about my mum (this is less frequent but it does happen) because he doesn't when he knows she's right or that I'll agree with her.

Anyway, enough waffle, what I also thought was that I hope we end up with a similar relationship to our child's birth parents to my auntie relationship with the nieces - living in a different country but visiting relatively often, they know me and remember who I am (and happily have done so since they were small) and think of me as a fun relative who will take them out and do fun things, but who they do have to listen to when I am in sole charge. And I give irritating advice which brother and sister-in-law are free to ignore.

OK, back to the original subject. As you may or may not know, Oxford is where I studied as a postgrad, and on the whole had an excellent time (immature male postgrads who share a house with you and bring back ever-younger one-night-stands, notwithstanding), and made some of my best and oldest friends. I used my imagine-yourself-where-you-want-to-be technnique to remember pubs with outdoor space for dinner, and thought of one I spent rather too many hours in - but was slightly embarassed therefore to walk straight past the entrance to the alley the pub is on. In a former life I am sure I could have found my way there in my sleep.

Today unusually rather than me saying "let's go OUT" and Mr. Spouse saying "I'm tired" we reversed roles; he took me to Camden Lock Market which astonishingly I have never been to. Cannot think how that happened. Anyway I bought a clocket, because I am a fashion victim, and tried on two or three winter tunics, and bought one. Mr. Spouse tried, but didn't quite manage, to tell me I was too short and fat to wear one of them. But the one I bought was a lot less fussy.