My friend Enat and her husband brought home their son from Ethiopia. I would have to say that her son’s safe arrival home was a perfect birthday present.
Congratulations, J & M! He’s breathtaking.
My friend Enat and her husband brought home their son from Ethiopia. I would have to say that her son’s safe arrival home was a perfect birthday present.
Congratulations, J & M! He’s breathtaking.
Whenever I hear or read something that infuriates me, it is a true test of my patience not to go off half-cocked. Doing so normally gets me into trouble and I end up eating shoe leather.
On the other hand, once I’ve cooled off or had time to research, I get bogged down by my rational side trying to convince me to be fair. To present both sides. To not offend. Unfortunately, it then loses all meaning.
This will be one of those posts that will either piss you off or it will not. I won’t apologize if it does. I will add that none of your comments on the poll, which are now also published, were taken any other way but with sincere openess.
Does becoming a sperm donor or egg donor make one a “mother” or “father”? I guess it depends on who you ask.
As I thought about this over and over again, I realized that the ONLY people NOT referring to the donors as Mother and Father were the donors themselves. So why is every one else?
If I thought about the literal sense of donation, then Fathers would be made with every one night stand. Mothers would be made every time there was unprotected sex during ovulation.
That doesn’t count, you say, because there was no intent?
OK, so for any couple who has gone through IVF, IUI or even procreative sex, they became Mothers and Fathers even if there was no conception, right?
Now I’m just being argumentative, you say?
Yes, I am, because our society has become so uptight in our pursuit of being politically correct even when it logically makes no sense to do so. What’s wrong with the donor being called a Donor?
What bug flew up my butt and inspired the poll (final results were 74.59% said no, donors do not become mothers/fathers while 24.59% said they did, which at one point was as high as 33%, and there were 51 votes)?
This comment to a thread I subscribed to. I won’t link the thread because the response really had nothing to do with the topic:
I was conceived through an anonymous sperm ‘donation’ (no money exchanged) back in the mid 1960’s through a private doctor practice. I learned of my conception origins at 18 but didn’t feel entitled to acknowledge the confusion this created for me until I had children of my own.
It was only until I saw how much my children were a part of, not only my husband and me, but our collective (bio/genetic) families. This was no long just a personal loss, this was much bigger than me. I searched for my biological father (my parents donor) after the birth of our second child and learned that because I was not of his marriage that I and my children (his grandchildren) could never be acknowledged, recognized or embraced by him – our extended bio/genetic family (grandparents/half siblings/aunts/uncles/cousins etc) or know or be a part of our family ancestry/history.
I see many reasons why donor (especially vendor) gametes/traditional surrogacy is wrong, not for religious reasons but for human dignity reasons. Knowing a name is not the same as being loved and embraced. These methods of conception are not the same as adoption, although they share many issues in common. Adoption (which has many ethical issues of its own), as an institution, is very pro-child. Adoption does not intentionally separate a person from their bio/genetic mother/father/family. It recognizes this separation as a tragedy. BUT donor/vendor/traditional surrogacy intentionally creates a child that will not be loved nurtured, unconditionally embraced or supported by one or both of their bio/genetic parents and extended family. This puts adults wants for a child (pre-conception), before the needs of a child (post- conception).
Of course people conceived through donor/vendor/surrogacy need to be accepted, loved, supported (THAT MUCH MORE SO) by the Catholic/faith community. But these methods of conception — when a child/person is intentionally created in a way that PROHIBITS them (and their future children) from being acknowledged, embraced, loved and nurtured in a fully inclusive way by ALL the people they come from and belong to — do not.
Verbatim and in its entirety.
I do feel sorry for this person as she found out what I think is too late in life that she was donor conceived, but third-party conception has a rather slow learning curve. No one knows the impact of what we tell or don’t tell our children until that moment, and usually it’s too late. In another 20 years, will the trend to tell your child as soon as they are toddling that there was a donor or they were adopted or were bore by a surrogate, come back and bite us on the ass? In some form or another, yes. That child will probably resent “feeling” different then other children. Then again, some children never have an issue. It really is a matter of perspective on life and temperament.
Also, I find myself asking, hypothetically, what right did this person have in asking to be embraced by her donor and his extended family? His donation was not intended to increase his genetic lineage so it seems a rather large leap to assume that 30 years later, he would welcome with open arms that possibility by a stranger. Not only would I never expect ZGirl’s genetic donor to ever acknowledge her if the two were ever to learn of each other’s identity, I also would never demand ZGirl to acknowledge the donor’s family as her own. The donor’s children are not my daughter’s half-sisters or half-brothers. These are terms modern society puts out there to both welcome, and yet exclude, children in a mixed marriage. They are titles to make sure that the Consanguine Family never rises again, and rightfully so.
It was this statement that pushed me over the edge, “Adoption does not intentionally separate a person from their bio/genetic mother/father/family. It recognizes this separation as a tragedy. BUT donor/vendor/traditional surrogacy intentionally creates a child that will not be loved nurtured, unconditionally embraced or supported by one or both of their bio/genetic parents and extended family.”
Adoption is the most intentional form of separation out there! While I understand her intent in the statement, there is no such thing as an “accidental adoption” unless it’s a swapping of newborns in the hospital.
And to state that donor and surrogacy intentionally creates a child that will not be loved, nurtured or unconditionally embraced or supported by the genetic parents and the extended family??!! Fuck her. And fuck her “non-bio” family for screwing her over by making her feel as if the only unconditional love she could get was from her genetic father and his family since it seems apparent that they did not provide it themselves..
I am not so arrogant to believe that my anger about the quote is directed purely at this stranger. I am angry that it made me question the choices we made. The choices we will eventually make with our own children. How dare I allow some one else’s shitty experience cloud the utter joy I have when my daughter reaches for me, smiles at me, laughs at me. Her mother. Her ONLY mother.
An example of how "fair" and "right" seem to be as opposite as night and day.
Sorry to say, there has been nothing publicly announced in regards to the adoption issue from my last post. I fear that even if the Nebraska Children’s Society failed to get anything documented and signed, the birth mother may still decide to retain custody of the boy. I guess if she does it within the time-frame allotted to her, there’s nothing else that can be done.
I’m not a child psychologist, and while I understand the concept of bonding, I don’t know how much of that comes into play when the baby is three months old. I’m sure it does a little, don’t get me wrong. Instead I worry more about this child when he gets older if he’s taken away from the couple, not because of potential bonding issues, but because he’s going to find out one way or another that at one time he had different parents. He had a baby sister*. It’s THAT kind of thing that will fuck with his mind.
Do you think his anger and confusion about all that will be directed towards the adoptive couple? Doubtfully. Instead he will probably find himself confused by the agenda of his birth mother and the agency, which I do believe negatively influenced the birth mother (earlier articles suggest that the adoptive mother told the still pregnant birth mother of her own pregnancy and seemed to be fine with it).
It’s an ugly situation, and regardless of what happens, Nebraska Children’s Society will be cast in an ugly light, and rightfully so.
* Correction: baby brother
I’ve been following this story about Nebraska Children’s Society attempt to remove a baby that they aided in placing this past Fall. Soon it has been promised, there will be a ruling. I’m hoping by later today… I have no idea which way it will go, but I found the latest publication in the Norfolk Daily News the most telling as to how Nebraska Children’s Society is desperately trying to cover their asses.
Here’s a brief note from the Lincoln Journal Star: Judge Will Rule Soon Whether to Remove Baby from Adoptive Family
Omaha World-Herald: Baby’s Birth Mom, Agency Ask Court to Nullify Adoption
An adoption forum.
And finally, here are all the articles that were posted in a local paper that weren’t published anywhere else:
January 29, 2008 – Verdigre Couple Fight to Keep Baby
January 31, 2008 – Adoption Hearing Postponed
February 2, 2008 – Attorney Appointed for Infant
February 8, 2008 – Adoption Agency Responds. Note the blurb on the side about their pregnancy policy, which is addressed in the following article. NCS didn’t add that info to their website until AFTER this problem arose. Funny, the center’s administrator has no idea exactly when this was added or who added it…
February 12, 2008 – Agency: Couple Ineligible to Adopt. I also like how the agency "assumed" they told the couple that if they became pregnant, they couldn’t adopt, because that’s just what most agencies enforce, and well, duh…to the agency I guess that means all the layman couples should know that.
*ssssnnnnnniiffffffffffffff* (me inhaling)
D’ya smell that? It’s the smell of a new month. I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have November disappear into history. My own personal Dark Ages, if I do say so myself. November 2006 can lick the antiperspirant from my armpits. Bring on the google hits, you freaks.
Today’s post title is brought to you from some spam I received earlier today. I found it perfectly quirky. Enough so to call my very own.
Did you know I love frankness in people? Sugar coating annoys the shit out of me. Well, lots of things annoy me, that’s probably quite apparent. In fact, already this morning I was directed to another blogger’s site who found out she had lost her baby at nearly 11 weeks. Someone actually posted a comment that contained, "it was probably for the best," and stars danced in my eyes. Nope. Uh-uh. I wasn’t going to let someone crap on my New Month parade, so I made it clear in my own comment that The Best would have been for this person’s baby to not have died. I swear, some people…
Oh, frankness in people. I was going somewhere with that, really. I received an email from Nico and she asked me a very good question:
"Do the genotyping results change your feelings at all about trying again? (Don’t feel like you have to answer that if you’re not ready to)."
And I answered her without hesitation: the results make me even more determined about continuing to try.
Now I didn’t qualify that statement by noting that it’s not a "we" mentality yet. Mr. DD is still spinning. Not so much from the miscarriage, but from watching me go on the craziest ride he’s ever seen. It wasn’t the typical metaphorical roller-coaster; it was an emotional bungee cord ride like the one that’s on top of the Las V3gas Strat0sph3re. Egad, it makes me nauseas just thinking about it.
He’s back on the sidelines suggesting we should go back to just trying on our own again. I squelched that suggestion without blinking. We’ve been there, done that. Between May and October, I kept hoping we could be that couple, the ones who try after a couple failed IVFs and get pregnant because there is less stress? Pfft. Unfortunately, we no longer have the luxury of time. Wolf was supposed to be my 40th Birthday present to myself with her due date just a couple weeks before my birthday.
When I was 38, I told myself I was done trying when I turned 40 because it seemed so far away and the goal seemed so obtainable. I was optimistic. And now I’ve decided no one or nothing is turning me into a quitter. I’m no longer optimistic, per se, but I’m feeling a little bit like Rocky Balboa in his first movie (you know, the good one). Ha ha! I just realized I made an subconscious connection to my blog title! Man, it’s a good day.
I also called the agency to follow-up on my email for adoption information. I just got an email back from them about what the next step might be (attending a sharing meeting and the next one is not until February! *sob*).
I know there are some who think that if I was going to be serious about adoption, I should probably give up on ttc, but I’m won’t. If we should get so lucky as to get pregnant and be matched at the same time, I will consider my self doubly "blessed" for pushing through the pain (I quote the blessed because of my personal issue I have right now with the religious connotations the word holds).
Congratulations to two of my favorite writers (the term "blogger" does not do their immeasurable talents justice), who also pushed through the pain of NaBloPoMo : Alexa at Flotsam, and Schmutzie at Milk Money or Not (who by the way is up for Best Blog in the 2006 Canadian Blog Awards, and even if you don’t read her – which you should – go place your vote for her. The link is on her recent post. Actually it’s been on all of her posts as she shamelessly self-promotes.). They are both equally amazing in completely different ways.
I have over 15 addresses of blogging friends who I am exchanging holiday cards with. That knowledge in itself makes my heart do a little skip of happiness. Keep in mind that the exchange is just between me and "you", and I will keep your personal information locked away for
my own private blackmailing purposes safekeeping.
One last thing (finally!), my next post is something special that I’ve been working on through slideroll. I’m warning you ahead of time that it will contain an ultrasound picture and a belly shot, not to mention several pictures of one very special little guy in my life.
Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh… (me exhaling)
Time for some shameless and humbling pandering, dear friends. I need your help.
What kind of sewing machine should I get if I just want to do some basic stitches? Take into consideration I’m not a "beginner" but I haven’t used a sewing machine in over a decade.
Does anyone remember the line from a film in the 90’s that went something to the effect, "your record has been expunged, wiped out"? My husband and I always refer to the line when we are making fun of how some people use repetition in a sentence, but after all this time we can’t remember what movie. We are guessing Eraser. Is there a good website for looking up movie quotes?
I have one sterile prefilled syringe of Ganirelix (Lupron) that expires October 2007. Who wants it? First person to call dibs gets a freebie.
Does anyone out there want to participate in an exchange of Holiday cards with me? Yes, I mean real, postage-required, hand-addressed, holiday cards. I’d promise a holiday letter as well, but I haven’t figured out how to do one without bringing the mood down with a thud when I share our latest miscarriage news, so it’s just going to be cards and maybe a family picture.
Now for the really selfish pandering: does anyone have some follistim or repronex that expires sometime in the next couple of months that they want to get rid of? I can’t promise that it will go to a good use. I can’t even promise that it’d be used. But if I could show that I can get enough without a huge expenditure, then maybe I would have more leverage with Mr. DD.
And no, I still haven’t received any information either by email or post from the adoption agency. It’s been 7 week-days (13 calendar). Their website only said "7-10 days". I don’t know what to think.
Did you know that if I peed on a stick right now, I would get a BFP? I thought about doing it because I threw away my bundle of HPTs last week and I really should have kept one to prove that I was even pregnant, but I’m not that much of a masochist. Today’s hCG level was 100-something. I didn’t really pay attention to the numbers when they called. I’m still spotting, but have escaped any heavy bleeding. It’s enough to make me forget to wear a liner, but enough for me to regret not wearing a liner. Fucking awesome.
My boobs were leaking this weekend. Yep, even with a 8 week pregnancy, your milk comes in. Could you imagine how spectacular my production would be at 40 weeks?
I’m still waiting for information from the agency I contacted last Wednesday. They said it could take anywhere from 7-10 days. I’m correlating the length of time it takes for me to get an informational packet to the time-frame it would take to go through an adoption.
Mr. DD told his mother (my very own MILDEW) about our miscarriage. Guess what she said? C’mon, give it your best guess. She said:
"Why do you even bother trying?" *rimshot*
I haven’t told my mother. I’m afraid she would be just as sympathetic. I keenly remember her telling me when we lost Vivienne that she couldn’t understand how that could happen since she had 6 children without any problems. Gosh, mom, that makes me feel so much better!
I have told all of my sisters. They were all very saddened and in a discussion with my oldest sister (who is beyond child-bearing years and child-"free"), that one of my other sisters was told by her doctor she probably wouldn’t have children (she eventually had two boys), and that made me think of my younger sister who had a miscarriage of twins and struggled before having her third and last child.
The only sister who seems to have walked away from reproductive issues is the sister one up from me who had 4 kids easily and quickly. This confirms our suspicions that she was indeed left by one of the gypsy bands that would camp out in my father’s pasture during their nomadic travels. It would explain her black hair and pale complexion as the rest of us are fair-haired (so what if out of a bottle for a couple of us!) and medium complexion. It would explain some other things about her as well when I think about it.
The other day when I arrived at the caregiver’s house, we arrived at the same time as one of the other mother’s who is in an obvious state of pregnancy, dropping off her son. Guess what my son said? "I want a baby brother, too." He then jumped out of the car and took off running to catch up with the other child going into the house. I cried all the way back to work.
I don’t know what it is about today already, but I’m feeling more depressed now than the day of the D&C. Drop in hormones, perhaps? Either way, makeup was a lost cause this morning.
The results of the clotting factors tests were already back on Tuesday. My RE said that the Protein C level was just below normal and they would like to run a repeat in 6 weeks.
No matter how either of us feel about trying again, we can’t. And this sucks. I feel as if theses past two months have been a total waste of time. What if we had waited one more month and maybe got a good egg that was sitting around? I found in some research yesterday that when a woman reaches 40, 50% of her eggs have chromosomal defects. 1 of every 2. I’m sure they are not sitting in my ovaries in alternating sequence, neatly waiting their turn. All the good ones are probably huddling off in a corner somewhere afraid to be the one to be next on my body’s Rejection List. Fuckityfuckfuck.
Two more things, and they appear to be completely unrelated. Firstly) yesterday Jerry heard on the radio about one of the adoption organizations for our State and checked out their website during lunch. Yesterday I googled adoption resources in our State and requested additional information from one of them. It was the same organization. I believe much of my fear about adoption comes from rejection. Isn’t it enough to realize your own body rejects you, or feel that god or some other high-falootin’ power is rejecting you? Now I have to wonder about strangers doing the same?
Secondly) this morning I lifted the trash can out of our bracket so I could pull out the liner filled with garbage. In doing so I knocked it against the counter, lost my grip and dumped a very full trash can onto our kitchen floor. Everything that was on top of the trash became the first to hit the floor: uneaten waffle with waaa-aa-ay too much syrup and last night’s scraps from supper, including the excess steak sauce that was scraped off into the garbage instead of the disposal/sink. Luckily I was the only one in the house so when I screamed FUCK!!! as loud as I could it was just some deer in the backyard that heard me and took off with with their tails raised in full, white-flag fear.
How’s this post for completely unfocused and random?
Gah! is just the tip of the iceburg. Before I explain, I first ask that you all not get all a’twitter about my last post. I’m gathering
arsenal information to give to Mr. DD. It seems rather moot as the only reading material that man ever sticks his nose in is either this or this. I’m looking for a condensed version on adoption to give to him, preferably one that contains all pictures. Hell, I don’t know if I could even get him to read this!
However, what ended up putting the proverbial bug up my butt was a wedding I attended on Saturday. I forgot what a babe-magnet weddings are. Babe as in Ba-BEE. I was surrounded by pregnant women…literally. One of two things were going to happen: I was either going to sneak up on them while they stared trance-like at the bride’s bling and surreptitiously rub up against their swollen abdomens or cry.
You only get one guess.
Actually, I did pretty well as I found myself fending off feelings of jealousy by tallying up in my head the reasons I was glad I wasn’t pregnant right then:
- It’s starting off to be one mo-fo hot summer
- Kankles, my god, the kankles!
- Fugly semi-formal maternity dresses
- Creepy ex-fertiles (who, me?) staring with xray vision at burgeoning girths
Unfortunately, the coup de grace was the woman who sat in the pew directly in front of me. She was gorgeous. I mean GOR-geous. Gorgeous, perfectly coiffed hair and gorgeous, perfectly made-up face. I hated her. Her husband was handsome (in a youthful, boyish way). They had three girls who appeared to range in age 3 to 8. I forced myself to dwell on her rather matronly shoes which took her from a 9 1/2 to an 8.
It wasn’t until we stood for the ceremony that I saw the baby-carrier. A boy. Maybe two weeks old with a thatch of baby-duck down for hair was sleeping in it. I was glad I was sitting on the inside of the pew and not the outside by the aisle where I was sure I could’ve made a decent run for it. I concentrated even harder on Gorgeous’s
ugly sensible shoes.
Just as I was thinking about how lucky they were to have a baby sleep all the way through the wedding, he woke up. When Mr. Gorgeous plucked him from the carrier, he was still all curled in that fetal posture babies have for the first few weeks of their lives. I stared at his milky-blue eyes and was thankful he couldn’t see mine. Then Mr. Gorgeous handed the baby off to Mrs. Gorgeous and she plopped him over her shoulder…directly under my nose. Because, as you see, the wedding was Catholic. I was on my knees. She was sitting. Picturing it? If I hadn’t leaned my butt against the pew seat, his hair would’ve been in my nose. That downy soft hair.
Before I even realized what was happening, I was crying. I felt Jerry brush his hand down my arm in understanding.
Is this how I will respond to every baby I ever get close enough to touch, to smell? Who was I trying to fool by thinking I was OK?
This is not how it is supposed to be for me. I just feel it in the pit of my heart.
That’s why I’m researching. Digging.
** Correction to email address below **
What adoption agencies have you heard have a good reputation?
What agencies have you heard no-so-good things about?
The information you give me doesn’t necessarily have to come first hand, but maybe from adoption blogs you may be reading that I haven’t yet. I know of one blog I read (once) where she said she was having problems with one agency but a second really pulled through for her. She would give the information on who they were if one was to ask. I asked. She didn’t reply (it was weeks ago).
If you don’t feel comfortable posting something in comments, please email me at ddknockedup at yahoo dot com. Mum’s the word.
I’m interested in agencies that specialize in international.