WAYRN challenge

Okay. I can do this. Really I can. Embarrassing as it may be, I can still play.

A few days ago (lost to me as I have been BACK AT WORK—eeeekkkk), good buddy walternatives asked folks the WAYRN (Where Are You Right Now?) Question. Lots of bloggers have participated; you should go check it out if you’re interested in How People Blog.

Here comes my disclaimer: I am usually very neat around my workspace. At some point late this summer, I became Not. Neat….Not. Neat. At. All. I had planned on spending the first week that R. went back to teaching this fall (that would be this week) cleaning up the space, banishing dust and debris and clutter, filing crap into its little file places, putting books back on shelves, etc., etc., etc.

But a funny thing happened on the way to The Big Tidy Up.

I decided at the last minute to accept an adjunct faculty position at R.’s college, teaching a “Writing Workshop” (read: Freshman Composition) course. I was a college professor for 15 years before “retiring” in December of 2003 from the other local college here in town. Long story involving politics at work and uterine wars at home. I spent three years writing and publishing poetry, going through IVF hell, and beginning our adoption process. A necessary hiatus on all counts.

But this fall seemed like a good time to get my proverbial foot back in the proverbial door. Because we are switching to a SN adoption, and switching agencies in the process, I need to earn a few bucks. And I really miss being in the classroom. Most of the time, at least. The Lightbulb Moment is a really cool thing. You know…when you can actually SEE the lightbulb go on inside a student’s head. When they suddenly get very, very excited about what you are saying, or what they are reading, or what is going on inside the classroom. When they really Get. It. I love that. It’s like a drug. I can’t ever have enough of it.

So…anyhoo…my home office is staying The Mess That It Is, at least for the time being. Who said something about the outside mess being a reflection of the inside-the-head mess? Yeah, well…um…okay, I can accept that. It’s been a rather wild ride around here lately…

Okay, so the pictures. Here are two different views of the main working / blogging area. (Click on shots for larger view.)

I have two desks in the office. Originally, one was supposed to be for the internets and the busywork of sending poetry out to contests and publishers (see above), and the other (see below) was supposed to be for contemplative poetry writing by hand or on my laptop (which is elsewhere at the moment) in front of the window.

I almost never use this window desk. I am always too busy with the internets, I guess!

Here is a shot of the far wall in my office. The little wooden rolltop desk was my childhood desk…and my father’s childhood desk before that.

Here is my favorite thing in my office, which you saw hanging above my main work area in the earlier picture:

It is a vintage pink-mirrored bathroom vanity shelf that I found at the Rosebowl Flea Market. It is the reason my office is pink (although I really like pink and brown together in any case). I keep some of my favorite knicknacks on it, including the seven round stones that my hubby gave me when we were first dating…to represent the Seven Directions important in Native American culture (R. is part Cherokee): North, South, East, West, Up, Down, and In. “In” is the most important, of course. In the collection of stones I have, it is the only one with a pattern…(sorry about the dust–good grief!)

The 19th-c. stereoscope photo above the stones is of The Engle Clock, or The Eighth Wonder of the World, which is an apolstolic clock that my great-great-grandfather, Stephen Engle, built in the 19th century. It is now housed at the National Watch and Clock Museum in Columbia, Pennsylvania.

Finally, because walternatives posted a shot of the bones near her blog station, I will include my bones as well:

It’s a javelina skull found here on the property. I had to bleach it to get all the skin and goo off, but I love it now.

The office is actually located in an out-building, about 100 yards from my main house. So…no TV watching for me while I blog. It’s also why I’m never found on the internets after about five o’clock…I go home at that point and don’t generally go back to the office until the next morning some time.
So, that’s the WAYRN. Stay tuned to hear about my first day back on the job, in which I experienced the EPISODE OF THE UNDERWIRE, and the call to jury duty (as in, Eleven Angry Men and One Woman)….

Why China? Why SN?

Recently Johnny over at it’s all come down to this posted a thread asking people to explain why they chose to adopt from China…god knows if and when the thread will ever meander its way over here, so I’m just butting in line and tackling it for myself…

So, why did we choose to adopt from China?

It seems to me there are two types of answers to this query: those that suggest why we chose China, and those that suggest why we didn’t choose other programs (the basic affirmative and negative responses).

In point of fact, it was a bit of a process of elimination…when we were thinking of adoption, domestic came up. I was not very interested, for several reasons. I did not want to have to sell myself to a birth mother by way of a portfolio. At the time, someone even advised me that birthmothers like photos of couples with horses, “they always go for the horses.” While this remark struck me then, as it does now, as incredibly condescending and completely devaluing of the birthmom’s role in the process, it does serve to highlight the sales aspect of domestic adoption, and it just does not appeal to me. Consequently, there is also no guarantee about how long the process will take…you could wait only a few months to be picked, or you could wait five years. I’m not good with total lack of certainty. It’s one of my worst traits, but there it is.

With both domestic adoption and foster-care adoption, I was also in fear of losing the baby after he or she had been with us for some time, if the birthmother decided to change her mind (or, in the case of foster care, if the birthfamily petitioned successfully for his/her return). I’m not questioning that that’s her right, but I do question whether I would be up for such an event. I wouldn’t be. It’s like miscarriage, only 10,000 times worse. And I’ve done miscarriage, multiple times, and I don’t plan on putting myself in a position that exponentially increases that sort of pain.

So, we opted for international adoption fairly quickly. I would have probably chosen a program in India because I’ve spent time there and my best friend is Indian and lives in Mumbai. But India requires both parents to be much younger than we are. We liked the China program because it was stable (no closings, well-run, a wait time of 6-7 months [yep, that’s what we were told last January]), and the babies were almost never exposed to drugs, alcohol, or cigarettes in utero. That’s an issue in our family because one of my stepsons, who’s now 19, was exposed to all three during his mother’s pregnancy, and we’ve had to deal with some pretty significant conditions as a result (failure to thrive, asthma, dyslexia, ADHD, ODD, and various addictions).

We’re older parents (at decision-making time, 39 and 50), and China is fine with that. Even encourages it, as they don’t allow couples under 30 to adopt. And, to be honest, R. really wanted a daughter, as he’s raised two boys and wondered what the experience of raising a girl would be like. China’s program is 95% girls.

Finally, both R. and I are trained “diversity experts,” which means we go into university and college settings to educate and help the institutions’ address issues such as racial diversity in hiring and in the student body; gender equity; class demographics; sexualities; etc. So, for instance, R. set up the first cross-cultural courses at a small liberal arts college where he used to teach, called “Encounter with Cultures.” At the last college where I taught, I was recruited to help the institution pass their ‘race, class, and gender’ requirements in the state re-accreditation process. In other words, we welcomed being part of a so-called “conspicuous family.” We felt like we might have something to offer to the experience of transracial, transnational adoption, and we were eager to learn from our daughter the lessons that she had to teach us.

We don’t believe in color-blindness. It’s a myth and can be pretty damaging to a child raised with those sort of rose-colored glasses on. We do believe in racial equality, and we are more-than-aware that it doesn’t exist in America today. But we remain hopeful that someday it will.

So, why did we decide to switch from the NSN track to the SN track?

Given that this topic is a hot-button one in the IA world, I am tempted to say something trite like, “because we found our daughter,” and leave it at that. Of course, that’s partly true.

It’s also true that the increasing wait had something to do with it. Just keepin’ it real, as Randy would say. Especially at R.’s age of 51, he is entirely unprepared to wait 3 more years to start our family. That’s a real thing.

We had originally decided that our first adoption from China would be NSN because I had never been a mother before, and so (1) I thought it might be important for me to parent an infant, which typically aren’t available on waiting child lists; and, (2) being green, I thought it might be important to lessen the number of juggling acts I would have to do with the new baby. SN by definition requires increased juggling. Then we talked about going the SN route for our second adoption because it seemed like the right thing to do for our family, which I’ll explain more about below. I actually started looking at SN lists last February, right after starting the NSN process. And our homestudy approved us for a SN child, even though it specified that we were pursuing the NSN route.

When the wait times increased so astronomically, two things became clear: (1) there wasn’t going to be a second adoption because by the time we finished the first adoption (3 years), waited the year in between (1 year), reapplied (6 months), and waited again (???), we would be too old to adopt; (2) given #1, why not just adopt SN now, initially, so that we might have the opportunity for a second child when the time came? We had educated ourselves on various special needs, discussed what we thought we could handle as a family, we had taken the time to make sure that this was something we could commit ourselves to for the long term. If it was part of our plan anyway, why not just make it part of our immediate plan. So, we did.

It is the right time for our family to do this. As a writer, I work at home, when I want to, for as much time (or as little) as I want to. As a college professor, R. has his summers and six weeks in Dec.-Jan., free. We have the money available to provide for her surgeries and therapies. Because of my stepson, we even have some experience with kids that have special challenges, although my experience with him did not come until he was a teenager. Hmmmmm..maybe that makes me particularly qualified for anything! Heh.

Finally, I’d just like to say that coming to terms with such a major issue as how to pursue growing your family is a process. At least, it should be. You might not know right away how you want to do that. Adoption isn’t something they’re teaching you about in 6th grade health class. Neither is infertility. It isn’t exactly uppermost in most people’s minds. Thus, one usually goes through stages to come to such a decision. It’s not automatic. Situations develop, circumstances change, and you must respond by thinking outside of that proverbial box.

I see the switch to SN adoption in similar terms. Situations develop, circumstances change–you change. You aren’t the same person you were six months ago. You expand your thinkings, you contract your thinkings, you just plain-out develop. And you make different decisions. Or you adapt the decisions you’ve made. You flex your brain. And it’s about what’s right for you, for your brain, for your family. I wouldn’t dream of imposing my process on someone else’s. They have to do what’s right for them.

I’m sure there are folks out there who are choosing to switch to SN only because they receive expedited adoptions. In other words, for the wrong reasons without any other reasons. But there are also folks out there adopting NSN who are doing it because oh, lordy, those china dolls are just too cute. Or it’s so important to save those heathen souls. In other words, for the wrong reasons. And, yet, they are allowed and, in fact, encouraged by the powers-that-be to do so. I think we can agree that it’s wrong to adopt NSN for the wrong reasons, and it’s wrong to adopt SN for the wrong reasons. Enough said.

The bottom line is that life evolves, and sometimes it evolves in ways that you can’t necessarily predict. I encountered a lot of ignorance about infertility from The Fertiles when I was undergoing treatments and making decisions about that process, and I am encountering ignorance about adoption from The Fertiles and The Non-Adopters as well now. I suspect it’s because growing their families the “old-fashioned way” wasn’t much of a decision-making process. More of a knee-jerk, okay, this-is-the-next-thing-you-do-in-a-life, sort of thing. Not the case for everyone, certainly. But for the grand majority, I suspect there isn’t the need for an evolution. You want to expand your family, and that’s what’s in front of you.

Who can blame them? I mean, who would want the amount of prying, bill-paying, government-in-your-business, doctors-in-your-business, so on and so forth, that goes on in both fertility treatments and in adoption? If you can do it on your own, by golly, do it. (If you want to, that is. Or if you’ve chosen adoption on its own terms, good for you too.) Conceiving and birthing a child without intervention is cheaper, faster, less painful, and less intrusive. It might also be less expansive.

And, my-oh-my, it certainly isn’t better.