Kicked Out of School for This Blog.

How much of one’s story is too personal to share?  When does it go from being a story about personal triumph over adversity (even if that adversity is sometimes caused by our own bad choices) to inappropriate details about our private lives that should remain private?  This is the question I faced this morning as I was called in to see the head of a private school in which my 5-year-old son had been offered a spot.  He was supposed to start Kindergarten there in twelve days.  We would normally not be in a position to attend such an elite school, but because they needed boys in that particular class, and because we were in the right place at the right time, we were able to work out a deal that would benefit all involved.  I was hesitant because I am not rich.  I don’t run in those types of social circles.  The newest car we have is a 2005 and I’m just not that Lululemon-wearing, Lexus-driving, latte-swigging mom.  I have nothing against it.  Financially, it’s just not our crowd.  But, after some interesting conversations with those who had experience with this school, we decided to put our fears and inadequacies aside, and go for it.

At least, we thought we were going to, until a staff member saw a link to my blog on the bottom of my email.  Less than twenty-four hours later, I was told this school just wouldn’t be a good fit for us.  You might think my blog showed pictures of me hung over at a New Year’s Eve party, or perhaps joking about having smoked weed in my younger days.  Or perhaps it might have used bad language, or racial slurs, or had pictures of me in a string bikini with my arm draped around some guy other than my husband.  But no.  It was this blog, where I write about our adoption experience.

I won’t attempt to include the entire conversation here, as it lasted about 25 minutes.  But I will hit the highlights.  I was told that there was no good that could come of me putting this kind of personal information on the internet.  She asked me several times what good I thought I was doing by airing my “dirty laundry”.  And by “dirty laundry”, she was referring mainly to two things (out of almost 50 blog posts over the last few years).  The first was that I mentioned that my boys had been exposed to drugs in the womb.  The second was that I mentioned my husbandhad been arrested two times before, both of which were thrown out before it even went to a judge because they were so ridiculous.  “Why would you share that with anyone?” she asked several times.  But the part that really got me was that she said that she was concerned that parents at this school might not want to include my son in playgroups or birthday parties or other social gatherings because he had been exposed to drugs.  She told me I should keep that a secret and that there was no reason that even my son should ever know that information.  She said that their school was a positive place and that there wasn’t room for the negativity or the “poor me” attitude I displayed in my writing.  I explained to her that not one of my posts were about “poor me” and that each one, although perhaps sharing some difficult experience, always took a positive spin and left the reader with an understanding of the good things that have come from it.  I could tell by the way she referred to my writing, that she hadn’t even taken the time to read through the blog herself, at least not very much of it.  I have written about everything from drug exposure, to the crazy process you have to go through, to our own experiences with invitro, to our failed adoption—every thing you could possibly want to know about this process is there. Yes, it’s personal, but I don’t think it is so horrible that it should be the reason my son is not allowed to attend this school.  I am not ashamed of one thing I have written.

I tried to explain that the current research on adoption shows that the secrecy of the past adoption culture has proven to be detrimental to children.  Secrets mean shame to a child.  If my son were to find out from someone else that he was born positive for drugs, then he would know I had lied to him, and he would assume I lied because something was so wrong with him that I wouldn’t tell him the truth.  I told her I will continue to share all of his story with him, age appropriately, and that at some point in his life, he would know every detail.  Research has shown this is the better path.  She argued that there are adopted children at this school who know nothing about their past, and that these children are just grateful to have what they have and they don’t think about their adoption story.  I cannot disagree with this more.  Perhaps they don’t ask many questions now, but this school doesn’t take middle school or high school aged children, which is when most of them begin questioning as they are figuring out their own identity.  And my guess is that she has not done much research on the subject, or she wouldn’t have made such a blanket statement.

So much more was said, but the point is that it was clearly stated that my story should be private, and there was absolutely no reason for having these details made public.  I told her that I was in the middle of writing a book about a lot of my difficult experiences and that the adoption story was only a part of that. I told her that I would be willing to leave some things off the blog, but that wasn’t enough for her.  She wanted the whole blog to be removed, and for nobody to ever be able to trace those stories to me.  She requested that work on the book be private, meaning it could not be published as long as any of our children attended school there.  I was not to write publicly about any of it again.  I was floored to hear such censorship in 2014, especially for what I consider such non-controversial material.  I told her that I was sad for him to miss out on the opportunity of going to such a great school, but if parents and teachers were going to ostracize my young son for choices beyond his control, then I didn’t want him going there anyway.

I felt a little selfish for not giving up a blog for this opportunity for a great education.  But I think it’s more than that.  If I am being censored over this kind of information, then what was next?  What else was not going to be acceptable?  I asked her if there were no other parents at that school who blogged about their life, or who had written anything controversial.  She said she wasn’t aware of any.  I find it hard to believe that nobody there has a past that is public in some way.  You’re telling me nobody has ever posted a picture of themselves on Facebook doing something inappropriate?  Or made a public comment that was controversial in any way?  Please.

I would love to hear thoughts/comments, even if you agree with the school.  I’ve been stewing about this conversation all day, trying to see it from their side, and I just can’t.  Read through my blog posts, and tell me if anything is inappropriate or cause for my son to be kept out of a school.  I truly want to know.

The Cost of Adoption

from our most recent invoice

We got an invoice from our adoption lawyer in the mail recently (see picture).  As you can see, we were charged for "receipt of family pictures; save to file".  Now, it does say "$25 no charge" an I'm not sure if that's what it's referring to, as we still incurred a charge on this bill.  But, remind me
not to send them cute pictures of our family any more!  They request them from time to time to stay current on our family, but I didn't realize we were getting charged for them to "save to file".  But, I am not complaining.  This lawyer has been great, and I know it's just the way it works these days.  But, it made me think about what it costs to adopt.  What it costs to give a home to a child who would otherwise not have one.  What it costs to provide a home for a child that would otherwise become a ward of the state and cost us, as a people, in tax money (and in so many other ways) to support.  Foster children have a much, much higher risk of needing social programs throughout their lives.  Did you know that 70% of people in prison in California were foster children at one point?  They are at much higher risk for needing all kinds of public assistance.  And I don't mean just as foster kids.  I mean way beyond into adulthood.  So, it just seems like it would help the whole situation if the whole adoption process was much less costly.  I have friends who became legal guardians to THEIR OWN grandchildren after their daughter passed away from cancer, and they had to do paperwork and pay $900!  I mean, it's a drop in the bucket compared to a regular adoption, but still ridiculous!

When I sat down to write about this, I thought about ALL the costs of adoption.  When all is done, S's adoption will wind up costing us about $10,000.  That includes social workers, a home study through the county (that costs $4500 alone!), lawyers, travel expenses back and forth to the hospital and little things here and there that nobody thinks about.  And $10,000 is getting off easy.  Most adoptions will cost much, much more, especially if you adopt internationally.  And there's the cost of the craziness it brings, the stress between spouses as you try to decide if this baby is for you, or if the situation is too risky and might result in a failed adoption, or the cost of the major life change it brings about, often with hardly any notice.  There is the cost of adding another child to your family and wondering how it's going to affect the child you already have.  There is the cost of having a child with a history and a family that you now need to figure out how to mesh with yours.  There is the cost of knowing that your child will always have a desire to know about his or her past and will most likely want some contact in some form with the birth parents or birth family, if possible.  There is the cost of your young child asking you why his parents didn't want him, or why they don't want to see him, or why was she so sick that she couldn't take care of me (because at four, we have chosen the word "sick" to describe her drug condition....we will tell him the truth later when he is able to understand what drugs are). There is the cost of those teenage years, when most adopted children go through a heightened identity crisis.  And I'm sure there are costs I don't even know about right now.

So, with so many costs, why adopt?  It's just like anything else you save up and pay a lot of money for.  Because it's absolutely worth it.  A new car, a European vacation, a new home....all those things have a cost attached, but what you get from it is so worth it.  Don't think I am comparing a child to a car or a vacation.  It's an analogy.  The experience you get on that vacation will last a lifetime.  You will make memories.  You will take pictures.  You will see and taste and touch things you never could have before.  And it will make the stress of saving that money and pinching pennies a very distant memory.  All you will remember is how amazing it was.  And that's how adopting is.  Every single one of those costs will never be more important than every single amazing moment of having a child, or of being a mom.  And not that every moment of being a mom is amazing....but you will look back and remember the good.  When my son, out of the blue says "Mom, I love you" or "am I your sweet baby?" or "come snuggle with me" or "will you read this to me?" or "will you play monster trucks with me?", the costs we incurred adopting him will just not matter.  In fact, S's adoption isn't even final yet, and it already doesn't matter, because I love these boys more than life itself, and you can't put a price on that.

Why I Have No Use for Alcohol or Drugs.

I was reminded recently why I have almost no use for alcohol or drugs, beyond the alcohol that is found in a bottle of vanilla or used to disinfect.

We had the opportunity last week to attend San Diego County Adoption’s Fall Fest.  It is an event in which kids that are a little harder to place for adoption are showcased via profiles and pictures to families with approved home studies who are on the list waiting to adopt.  Here’s basically how it adoption preferences go.  An newborn Caucasian girl is the most requested placement.  Next is other newborns, followed by infants under two, followed by children under five.  Then, somewhere in there are sibling groups of two or more along with older kids and special needs children in no particular order.  The bigger the sibling group, the older the child (or children) and/or the greater their special needs, the harder they are to place.  And so it goes.  The Fall Fest showcased all those groups except individual kids under the age of five who had no special needs (meaning some type of handicap, whether physical, mental or some of both—not meaning general development/emotional issues that often come with neglect, abuse or the other myriad of reasons children find their way into the system).  The only time a child under five was showcased was as part of a sibling group.

There were more than fifty kids or sibling groups showcased that night.  They gave us each a packet to take home so that we could think about the kids we were interested in and look at their information again to decide if we wanted to move forward.  The particulars are private to families waiting to adopt, but I wanted to share a few things that stuck with me, and will share in general terms to respect that privacy.

The one thing that stood out to me as I read through these profiles is that, almost without fail, the reason these kids had been removed from their homes was due, in some part, to substance abuse.  I am so tired of hearing people argue that drugs and alcohol are no big deal because they are only harming their own bodies.  While that may be the intent, and it may be the case for some, for many people, there are innocent victims.  The abuses laid down in these profiles would make anyone cringe.  There was neglect, physical, sexual and emotional abuse, kids exposed to drugs and alcohol, and kids exposed to sexually explicit materials and/or things occurring in their own homes.  There were kids whose permanent physical and/or emotional conditions resulted in decisions made by parents under the influence.  There were kids who have had little to no contact with parents since being taken into custody because those parents can’t get it together enough to even make one visit in months.  In almost every case, all of these problems were brought on by drug and/or alcohol abuse.  Did you know that the worst thing that a pregnant mother can do is drink alcohol?  Did you know that with almost every drug, most of the damage caused in utero can be reversed or adjusted to as the child grows, but damage from alcohol, such as Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, is permanent and irreversible?  Cocaine, heroin, meth....none of them hold a candle to the damage caused by alcohol to a fetus.  Don't get me wrong, drugs are damaging, but in comparison to what alcohol can do--the supposedly less harmful substance--it's not even a close race.

I do feel for these parents with substance abuse problems.   Many of them grew up in similar circumstances.  I once heard a mom whose kids had been taken away from her tell how she had been exposed to drugs so early on, that she had done her first line of cocaine at the age of five.  She was pregnant with her first child by thirteen, and the father was in his thirties.  Her second child by the same man came along just a couple of years later.  She eventually pulled her life together and got her boys back and is doing well now.  I do have compassion for these parents, but, our kids need to be protected, whether we have compassion for their abusers or not.  Did you know that seventy percent of prisoners in California were in foster care at some point?  It’s an incredible statistic.

I don’t have all the statistics on alcohol and drug use, but I have enough to know that I have no use for any of it.  I have had struggles in my life and made choices I was not proud of, so know that I am not standing in judgment.  But this was one thing I never desired.  I never understood the draw of being so far gone that you would not have control over what might happen to you.  That never appealed to me.  My religion has a health code that includes abstaining from alcohol and illegal drugs as well as tobacco.  There was a time in my youth when I adhered to this health code mostly because that was what I had been taught.  But, I have had the truth of that health code confirmed to me time and time again through my own experiences and the experiences of those around me.  I believe it now more than ever.  

I know there are many people who drink responsibly out there.  I don’t think there is any responsible use for illegal drugs, and sometimes for legal ones.  That belief has been solidified by seeing the effects of these things on our children.  The misuse of drugs and alcohol have had devastating effects on children all over the world, whether through too early exposure or through abuse and neglect heaped on them because of the substance abuse of their parents or others around them.  I wish everyone could read these profiles and see where that abuse has led these children--the innocent bystanders of those who think they are only damaging their own bodies.  I only hope that people will see past the inherent problems that this abuse may have caused in these children and welcome the opportunity to adopt one.  Having a three-year-old at home has limited what we are willing to take on, as his safety has to be a major priority (this is something I will discuss in another post).  But if you are just starting out and are waiting for your first child, or maybe have grown children and are starting over, I hope you will research the option of adopting an older child or sibling group or a special needs child.  You might be surprised at how the reward may far outweigh the work.


***If you are considering adoption an older child, please read my post "How Long Are We Parents?"

The Thing About Waiting....

“Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.”  This is a favorite quote from the book “A Thousand Splendid Suns” that sums up our entire fertility treatment and adoption process.  My friend, Genie, pointed it out to me one time in reference to our long, tiring quest to have a child.  Not to compare my challenges with those of Miriam’s in the book, but it is such a beautiful, concise statement that is so eternally true. It has been almost nine months since we have been back on the list to adopt again through San Diego County Adoptions.  It has been almost two years since we finalized D’s adoption, and we started pretty soon after jumping through the hoops to get back on the list.  It took six months to get everything finished, and seven more months before we could get our final interviews and home visits.  Two months later, those were finally processed and we were back on the list in January of this year.  I suspect it will be about another year before we get a call.  I hope and pray that it is sooner, but mostly I hope and pray for the right child (or children) for us at the right time.  

(As always, all my poems and artwork are copyrighted!
Please don't use without permission.)

Why is waiting so hard?  I’ve decided that I can handle just about anything if I know there is an end to it.  If someone told me the exact date I would be given a child, then I could have handled the years of waiting more easily.  You would know how much time you had to pursue something else, or to tie up loose ends, or that you could save all that money you spent on pregnancy tests, and you would know exactly when to start getting excited.  It would still be hard to wait, but it would be much, much easier.  The worst thing about not knowing is not knowing.  Five minutes before your trial is over feels just like five years before because you don’t know the difference.  We’ve all waited for something--maybe a job offer, or a wedding proposal, or a raise, or acceptance to graduate school, or a call from the doctor to say you are in remission.  It’s the fear of the unknown that gets us.  We want to know—it is human nature.  We want to know what we are dealing with so we can plan and prepare and have some control.  And we know whenever that thing we are waiting for decides to finally arrive, that we will be so relieved or happy or excited and we will be able to move forward instead of feeling like we are in limbo.  I’ve learned, though, that strangely, the greatest lessons are taught during those times of waiting, much more so than at the moment we are granted that thing we so desire.  And so, we wait.  But, it’s different now.  Instead of crying and stressing over each childless day ticking by, I have decided that this time around, I will enjoy walking the path, and I will pay attention to everything along the way, and I will be grateful that I’m walking this path with the sweet hand of a vibrant, little black-haired tank of a three-year-old boy holding my hand.  I wrote and illustrated this poem about him.  It captures so much the way I see him.  His name actually means “son of the sea”.  It was one of the things that sold me on his name, and I have found that it is very fitting.  He is difficult to tame and a little unruly at times, but magnificent and strong, and I am in awe when I stand with him, as I am with the ocean.  We are enjoying every minute together.  And as much as I want another child, and want him to have a sibling (or two) with whom he can share his life, I know that if that doesn’t happen, we have been blessed beyond measure to at least have him.  That said, we still stand on the shore and wait…

The Five Children We Didn't Take Home

It occurred to me that maybe I should explain the subtitle of this blog, “Inspired by the process, the children and the lessons learned.”  I think it’s mostly self-explanatory, but I wanted to share with you why I used "children" as a plural form, and not just "child", beings we only have one child.  If you read my post about our first adoption that failed, then you might think it’s just referring to these two special children.  But there are more children that have been a part of this process, and that I often think about and wonder how they are doing.

 If you haven’t been through the adoption process (and especially through social services) you may think that the process goes something like this:  You finish your application and then one day, you get a call telling you to come get your baby.  You go get your baby and go home to your new life.  I’m sure that does happen with some adoptions, but through social services, it can be quite different.  You might be surprised to know that we actually turned down five different children before we accepted D.  Often, I think people assume that we are so desperate for a child, that when the call comes in, we jump.  And maybe losing our little Isaac affected that spontaneity a little bit, as he was the first placement call we ever had, and we did jump at the chance to take him home.  But after being burned, the next calls that came in required a lot more thought and reasoning as to what would be right for us.  It is hard to jump in when you know the reality is that you might not get to keep this child.  But to keep a long story a little shorter, I want to tell you about the five sweet children that came before D.  (I have left out their names here for privacy—you never know who might know them!).

 1. Almost a year to the day of losing little Isaac, we got a call about a baby boy who had been removed from his home and was being put into a concurrent planning adoption.  I wanted him so much.  I had really wanted a baby boy to fill the void of losing Isaac.  But, something the social worker said scared us.  His mother had almost lost his older sister to adoption because of her drug use and her unwillingness to comply with what the county was requiring.  And then, at the last possible time, she pulled it together and got her girl back.  And even though that girl was no longer in her mother’s care (her grandmother had guardianship) the county judged each case individually, and she would have the same opportunity with this little boy.  Our social worker said something like “I just want to warn you that we think this adoption will go through, but this mother might be slow out of the gate and then pull it together at the last minute.”  “Slow out of the gate.”  That has stuck with me to this day.  There wasn’t even a question.  John and I said no, knowing we could just not handle another rollercoaster ride like we had before.

 2.  Just a couple of weeks later, we got a call about an 18 month old little girl.  It was the morning of Christmas Eve 2008 when we went in for the telling (the telling is where you meet with the social workers and they tell you everything they know about the child, and then you decide if you want to move forward).  On paper, this looked like a perfect match, and I still can’t tell you why we didn’t take her.  The parents’ rights had been terminated.  It was zero risk.  But, it didn’t feel right.  John and I looked at each other and just both knew it wasn’t the child for us.  It was a shock for me, as I had so desperately wanted a child, and had hoped one would have already come in the year after we lost Isaac.  But, she wasn’t ours.  We knew she belonged in to someone else.

 3.  In March, I was in L.A. working on a project, when right in the middle of it, with the worst timing possible, came the call for a safe surrender baby girl.  She had been dropped off at the hospital and we could pick her up the next day from the hospital.  I wanted her so badly!  I called John and we had several conversations over the course of the next few hours.  We had to make a decision fast, as she was an emergency placement.  Ann gave us until the next morning.  I tried my hardest to talk John into it, but he wouldn’t have it.  In hindsight, I can understand and sympathize, but I was so upset at the time.  And I was a few hours away, so we couldn’t discuss it face to face (which might have been a blessing!).  He just felt it was too risky.  In California, safe surrender moms get a bracelet with their baby’s information on it, and they have a window of time to come back and change their minds.  And even if the paperwork gets filed to terminate the rights, I’ve been told that until it’s all final, that they have a good chance of being able to get that baby back.  And with an unknown father, who might become aware of his baby being born in the near future, there were just too many risks for John.  I made him call Ann and tell her we weren’t taking her.  I was too heartbroken to make the call.  We worked through it, but it was one of the bigger arguments we’d had in a while.

 4. & 5.  The last two kids were a sibling group we were offered the same month D was born, unbeknownst to us.  It was May, and we got the call about a 1 ½ year old little girl and her 2 ½ year old brother.  I was really excited at the opportunity for two!  I mean, let’s just get on with building our family already!  Oddly enough, even with the risks, John and I were both immediately on board and excited.  They had been in the system for a year after being removed from their home because of domestic issues, and their accessibility to drugs.  The father was in prison, and I don’t remember what was going on with the mother.  We did the telling and saw their sweet little pictures.  We were given the weekend to decide, and one of the things you are required to do before deciding to move forward is talk to the child’s (or childrens’) foster mom so you are fully aware of their current state and any difficulties they may be having.  Well, to condense the story, the foster mom told us she didn’t think the children’s grandparents were aware they would be going up for adoption and that there might be a problem there.  So, we addressed this issue with the social worker, who in turn did some research and found out that there was some planning in place by family members to place these kids with a friend, should they ever be placed for adoption.  It was a big mess, so we pulled out until it was all sorted out.  They told us that if they came back up for adoption after everything was sorted out, that we would be the first couple they called, but for now, we were back on the list again.  We were pretty sad about it.  I was really excited to welcome two kids home, even though I knew it would be a challenge, to say the least.  But it wasn’t meant to be.

About six weeks later, at the beginning of July, we got THE call—the one that would ultimately give us our sweet little boy.  Seven children later (including our little Isaac) we finally got to keep one—the one meant for us.  I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and even though we didn’t take these five kids, I know even having the chance to think about them and their circumstances blessed our lives in some way.  I still think about all six of those sweet, innocent children, all caught in some kind of craziness that never was their fault.  I wonder what their lives are like today, and wish the best for them.  I hope we don’t have to wait through six more children before we get the next one, but if we do, I know we’ll learn great lessons from them, too.

****ADDENDUM***  This addition to this post was inspired by Kristina's comment below.  One of the things that comes with being open about adopting is the regular "offers" to take a baby.  Sometimes it's a birthmother's well-meaning friend or family member, or someone that just hears about a situation, but I'm not sure I can even remember how many times someone contacted us about taking a baby and it fell through every time.  I know it's a difficult decision for birthmothers, but it is also difficult being on the other end thinking you are going to get a baby, and then suddenly the rug is ripped out from under you at the last minute.  I learned quickly to be cautiously optimistic.  I always expressed interest, but knowing how many of these never come to fruition, I learned to not even get excited.  I would just say, "let me know when the baby arrives and they are signing the papers."  We had a sister of a coworker, friends of friends, a phone call with a birthmother the day she gave birth swearing we were the ones and less than 24 hours later a family member had taken her and we never heard from anyone again.  We had one that wanted us to come to the doctor's visits and be a part of everything, but we had just lost our first baby and I had reason to suspect she wasn't all that sure about this decision, so a few months after saying we would wait until later in the process, we never heard anything else again (I'm pretty sure she kept that baby).  We had friends with more distant connections to a birthmother....oh, if I had a dollar for every time someone was absolutely sure we were getting that baby....well, I'd have a little extra spending cash.  So, I suppose it's not just the baby we lost and the five we didn't get to take home for different reasons--there are more babies out there who taught us lessons and were a part of this process.  At least a dozen, and if I stopped and really thought about it, probably more.  Patience is a virtue, right?  I still try to be optimistic, but sometimes it's hard to not get annoyed when someone is so sure that a baby is coming to us and just can't understand why we aren't thrilled.  They will continue to insist it will happen and want us to get excited.  Believe me, when it happens, no body will be more excited than I will be, but I can't live on the edge of those emotions 24/7, so I hope you will understand if I temper my excitement until the baby is in my arms and the papers are signed.  And then I can afford to break down and cry with happiness.