Unplugged

A major source of contention in my marriage is my "pluggedness." I use the internet to keep me company when my husband travels, connect and nourish friendships with people, write, and research things that are important to me.

Appa would prefer I did less of all that during our limited time together. Usually he has a point, and although he might not think so, I have been trying to be less plugged in when he is home.

This vacation I decided to try to unplug. Besides the occasional e-mail checking (I'm actually still waiting for an formal update on Little Bro--how greedy am I?), and one blog post that I had to get off my chest, I've been almost completely unplugged for 5 days.

And it was great....magical, even.

Appa and I fell asleep when our son did most nights. We watched fireworks from our hotel room and sports news. We chatted. We didn't read or get on the computer or do anything other than just stare at each other and laugh at our crazy child.

It was easy to get caught up in the family moments. Work and Facebook and blogs and e-mail (I had exactly 200 this morning when I checked) just didn't seem to hold a candle to spending time with my boys.

As happy as I am to be connected again, there is a part of me that wishes I could stay back behind those colorful gates that seem to keep the "real world" at bay while simultaneously reminding you what is truly, truly real in your life.

Misery Loves Company

Last night was horrible.

Little Bug woke up at 10:30 pm and proceeded to be awake until 4:30 am. Most of the time he was babbling or singing or kissing my shoulder and begging to be "up on mama," things that would melt my heart during any other time of day.

I struggle with these nights. Beyond sleep deprivation, my patience is very low and I often have mama moments I'm not proud of. I raise my voice sternly, I don't always count to 10, etc. I'm not the mama I want to be on these nights.

Last night was worse because Little Bug has suddenly developed this belligerent toddler attitude...he willfully disobeys, sticks his tongue out in response to direction, and LAUGHS at me when he is scolded.

My mom once told me a story about a time when she spanked me, and I turned and looked her in the eye and laughed. She had to lock herself in her room until she could calm down because her other option was to become a mama she didn't want to be.

Last night, the scene, substituting the spanking for stern words, repeated itself. Little Bug snapped my last thread by hitting me in the face and then laughing about it. I put him in his bedroom and baby gated him in to let him cry himself into exhaustion. We did this horrible cycle for a while.

The next few hours were not pleasant, most likely for anyone in our neighborhood.

This morning I was 20 minutes late getting out of the house, only to hit freak traffic and construction that added a solid 40 minutes to my 7 minute drive (I take locals, for Pete's sake!) . Little Bug was late for breakfast. I won't even begin to go into how late I was for work.

The whole time I was trying to keep a positive attitude on the morning. I made sure to smile and sing to Little Bug, forgiving him even when I wasn't particularly feeling like it. I breezed into work with an air of "let's do this awesome day," even though I was secretly trying to invent ways to call in sick. I even took a moment to marvel at some of my favorite fall wild flowers.

But yeah, today was blowing.

Almost immediately I connected with two of my Internet-turned-real-life friends who have it much harder than I do in the sleep department. I felt bad complaining about my one-off night, but my wise friend noted that "misery loves company."

And it's true. Because after commiserating a bit with them and having some morning chatter with other mama friends, I was feeling much more myself and willing to face the day with a positive attitude.

And two DDPs and a Red Bull, but the friends have helped a lot, too.

Family. Work. Sleep.

I've spent the last two weeks "hibernating."

In the last 7 days, I got promoted at work. Although this is a very cool thing, it also comes with a client and projects that need significant attention...like yesterday. I also flew across the country for a weekend. I hosted my family for a couple days and then turned around and started hosting my little sister. I attempted (and basically failed) to spend some quality time with my husband, as it has been nearly a month since we had a quality night to ourselves. I raised my kid and he's doing great.

So, by hibernating, I mean that I've drained my life down to the bare essential priorities lately.

Family. Work. Sleep.

I've barely uploaded (or taken) pictures of Little Bug this month. Blogging has been reduced to the barest minimum to preserve my family memories. Facebook is hit or miss. E-mail? What's that?

It's felt odd, but not nearly as odd as I expected it to feel. I don't FEEL disconnected or left out, I simply miss those people who I connect with through blogs and Facebook.

The people, not the medium.

The online community is here to stay in my life. I have made wonderful friendships and will continue to cultivate new ones that will enrich my life and my family's life. Am I going to throw that away? Not a chance. But, I've sort of enjoyed shutting the computer at night and curling up (in bed!) with a book. I've enjoyed turning away from my computer at work to proof a large project with only my iPod, and not Facebook notifications, as my companion. Yahoo? It's about to be a thing of the past.

I'm going to continue to find this balance that seems like it could really start working for me right now with some tweaking. Balancing what (or to be blunt, who and why) my online priorities with my basic life priorities.

Family. Work. Sleep.

Praying For His Buddies

When we announced Little Bro's referral, I was shocked when FOUR people contacted me to tell me they had been "looking" at his profile and even a few of them has requested his information after we had. One friend, in particular, told me that she had been praying specifically for our son to have his family find him.

Well, whaddya know, we did.

Of course, we weren't actually looking for him. It just sort of happened that we looked randomly and were given the strong feeling that we needed to "explore" his information more. We had NO business exploring a waiting child. We were close to a referral. We had paid all our money. We had no plans to adopt an "older child." But in the end, we listened to that little feeling that prompted us to just consider it.

And we found our son. Little Bro, Big Star, Two of Two loves of our lives. Our perfect, healthy, son and his referral that was not nearly as scary as we thought accepting a waiting child would be.

And since then, I check that photo listing at least once a day to see the other little babies and toddlers and kids who have not found their families yet. The majority are thriving and carry the label of their "special need" only on their profile...not in their daily lives. Just like my friend, I pray for these little ones now. I KNOW how perfect they most likely are, but I also KNOW how scary the label "waiting child" is for parents. I literally get giddy when a profile is highlighted as "Matched."

And I swore I would not do this again, but I feel so strongly today that I should share this link to my friend's blog who is publicly advocating for the little boy her son lived with in Korea. A little boy whose picture I gaze at each day on that list. A little boy who has a family and life ahead of him. A little boy who is just like my Little Bro and every other little kid in the world. Perfectly imperfect.

I will forever be shocked at Appa and my choice to pursue our son's referral. We lost money, time, and perceived process security, but we gained a son that I feel to the bottom of my soul is the one meant to be in our lives forever.

All because we looked and thought about it and took a chance. My gut was leading me there, whether I knew it or not. If yours is, you should follow it. When it says stop, stop. When it says go, go.

I try not to write posts to people other than myself and my kids on this blog. But, I feel strongly today to share this link, so I'm going with it.

Maybe this is not a link you will feel compelled to click.

Maybe this is just going to be a blog that you end up enjoying.

Maybe this is going to open your eyes to waiting child adoption and lead you to the photo listings? Or maybe help you lead someone else there? Maybe that won't lead you anywhere but to increased awareness, or maybe, like her blog did for me, it will lead you ultimately to your child?

Or maybe this is your son?

All of these options are okay and right. But you never know until you at least think about it.

The Only Option

Breathe.

Today has been a roller coaster of a day. A little bit of information snowballed into something that was potentially life changing (and not in a good way) for my family. After allowing myself to become slightly emotionally unhinged (manifested in total lack of spelling or punctuation, frantic e-mails, worried g-chats, and a Diet Dr. Pepper or two), I got a call from someone who could give me a straight-from-the-top answer. It helped that this person is someone I trust implicitly. It actually helped a lot.

She seemed positive that things would work out for my family and for all the families who I care about who are also potentially affected by this news. My heart was calmed, not completely, but close.

Not everyone buys her positive spin though, and that has been hard for me to navigate this afternoon. Am I being naive because I trust my source? Is my relationship with her clouding my judgment? Should I continue to protect my heart and worry? That's the message I am getting from some people.

Honestly, that's not the way I want to live. I'm already protecting my heart from placing expectations on Little Bro's referral and the wait from referral to travel call and Little Bug's milestones. I have enough anxiety in my life.

I cannot spend the next 3-4 months worrying about what might or might not happen. If it doesn't happen the way I want it to, that is something that we will have to deal with, whether we want to or not. There is nothing we can do about it. I mean, obviously until everything is settled I will worry, but I guess I mean I cannot worry that I cannot trust the people who are trying to figure this out.

After all, in adoption, trust is really your only option.

Breathe.

Beautiful Life (Who would have thought!?!)

I have one more session to summarize, and I promise I will get to it this weekend.

However, I just wanted to throw out to the world how beautiful my life is because that is what is filling my heart today. I blog, a lot, and have for many years, but only with this blog have I ever let my guard down with my more personal feelings. Our pain of infertility and our pain of the waiting with our adoption and our pain with dealing with Little Bug's special needs, those are all things that have been real trials for us, for me, and as we walked those roads, the pain was intense, the light seemed dim, and the toll was taxing.

Yet, we shared that with very few people. Sure, our close family and best friends knew that we were dealing with these things, but they didn’t know how it was feeling to deal with them. These were roads they had not and were not traveling. They could not walk these roads with us in the most literal sense of the word, just as I cannot walk the road of Ali(ce)'s last trimester with her. Support yes, fully understand, no. In the last year I have seen how powerful and therapeutic it is to let these feelings out and share them with others who have or are walking these same long and lonely roads and let them take your hand and walk with you when it gets too hard.

I didn't have the network of support then that I do now. The moments I consider darkest are still locked away without having been verbally expressed to many people. I knew only a couple people who had ever adopted from anywhere before we went to Korea to get Little Bug, and only one person who at the time I even had any level of personal comfort with. I wrote her an e-mail during one of the lowest points in my life, just days before we traveled to get Little Bug. A portion of the text reminds me of the trials and blessings that were warring within me even then.

I was kind of in a dark place this weekend, very bitter and worried and just generally helpless. I've been sort of sick to my stomach for the last few days waiting to hear, and he is all I can think about. I'm not really sure where I am going with this, other than that I just really wanted to tell you because I know that you understand that helpless feeling of having your child be so far away from you. The idea of backing out of the adoption makes me heartsick. The one positive is that it has (in a really weird way) helped me start the bonding process with LITTLE BUG, not just the idea of him, but him as a person. I don't want another baby, I want him. That took me a couple of days and a lot of tears and prayers realize that, but I am finally at that point. Even if they come back and tell us that he has some big challenges, I can't imagine turning away from him now. And it might be that there is nothing going on after all and that he just needs a little more tummy time and a little more motivation to bridge that gap. Either way, I feel like he was meant to be with us, and I just want him home.

To have been wrapped up and lifted up by people who understood perhaps not my specific situations and emotions and fears and heartaches, but at least the nature of them in general, would have been so helpful. Someone who could have stood directly next to me on that road and pointed out the light that I might not have been able to see. As so many of my friends now face challenges on their own roads, I take comfort in the fact that most of them seem to have people they can turn to who will take their hand and squeeze it tight; people who can see the light because they have already been to the end of those roads or who might be just a step or two ahead. It won't make the road any straighter or easier or more clear, but I know how it feels to have walked my roads alone, and it didn't feel good.

For me, my roads continue to wind. Don’t all of ours? Somehow, once you get to the end of the road, another one appears. One with new turns and twists and potholes. Yet, we can face these new roads with new eyes and a stronger heart because of the roads we have already traveled. Robert Frost should have wrote about that road, the ones we DID take. How amazing is it to look back on those trials in our lives and see the blessings they have given us, the lessons we have learned? I only wish we could have a glimpse of that forthcoming joy as we were going through those dark times. It would make it so much easier, but alas, that isn't really the way it works. The heartache is part of the process.

So, why is my life so beautiful, and why have I just word vomited a small novel with literary references, e-mail quotes, and questionable analogies? Because I put this picture on my work desktop.
This picture tells the story of my life. Everything I have ever wanted, hoped for, begged for, despaired for, endured for, prayed for, cried for, cared for, and wished for is wrapped up in this little snapshot of my life. It speaks more to me than I think anyone could ever know, every little detail. It's the glimpse I wish I would have had to spur me through those trials.

That's a truly beautiful thing.

My Webafesto

Disclaimer: If you are reading this, there is a 99.99999% chance that I am not talking about you. I'm nervous about posting it, but it's is where my head is at this morning.

Sometimes you have to clean out your closet, or your fridge, or your car, etc., and get all the old, stale, nasty stuff you don't use and don't need out of your daily life.

Lately I have been doing that with less tangible things (and not just because I hate cleaning my car and am avoiding it). The internet is an amazing thing and connects me to people and things and ideas in ways that have enriched my life. When I moved to a new state 2 years ago and was searching for a job and adjusting to my husband's new job demands, an internet book club provided me with my only outlet for making friends. Some of those friends transcended from "internet friends" to "local [insert book club name here] friends" and a smaller portion became just "dear friends" who are in my life and the lives of my husband and son (the ultimate mark of acceptance from me) for multiple reasons.

By that same token, I have spent the last year splashing around in the world of adoption blogs and boards and listserves. Again, I've made "adoption bloggy friend," some of who transitioned into "local adoption friends," and some who have even just become "friends who happen to have/are also adopted from Korea." More and more of the people I met in the adoption community are becoming wonderful friends for my family, and I love that.

I treasure all these "adoption" friendships, both the ones that I might never get to meet in real life and the ones who I meet for tea or zoo trips or a burger and apple cider ale. The support and friendship and fellowship and advice and commiseration and fan-girling is all things that make me smile and bring joy to my life. That is a good thing.

However, like that sweater you bought on clearance last summer that is taking up prime space in your closet, even though you know you will NEVER wear it again, some things in the Internet worlds I spent time in are probably outstaying their welcome and need to go.

I started by almost completely removing myself from my book club "fandom," which was taking up time in my life that I could have and should have devoted to my family. I'd made my friends and had my fun, but I was no longer getting anything of real value from the time I was devoting to those other "relationships." It hurt some people who I had chatted with online, but ultimately, those not-in-real-life relationships are meaningless compared to my real-life relationships and there are just so many hours in the day. My family and I have all benefited from this break, and those who were true friends still call me up to chat about life…not just a book series. That is real.

The issue of the Internet adoption community is a different beast and one that I am having a harder time with. I love checking blogs, and I love writing blogs, and I love chatting with other adoptive moms who I have connected with one way or the other. Unlike my above mentioned relationships, I see long-lasting value in cultivating relationships with people that I might never actually meet because the support I will need as my child grows is something only these other women can provide. So in that respect, I'm happy with my "friends" and always looking for more.

HOWEVER, I've found there are some other areas of the adoption community that are no longer for me, specifically the boards. Now, I am not judging anyone, and honestly right now, there are a lot of weird and heartbreaking and frustrating things going on in an otherwise very stable program and specifically with people who I "know" (and this is NOT directed at them, for those of you who also "know" them), but I just can't do it anymore with those nameless, faceless people.

The complaining about timeframes, the bickering about circumsion or cosleeping or baby carriers or guest house versus hotel or travel versus escorting, the minutia of the I-[insert any number of numeric combinations], VI, P3, EP and the fever pitched highs and lows that come with those daily check-up calls, and the refusal of people to accept that all adoptions are not created equal and cannot be compared apples and apples, agency to agency, Lillipie ticker to Lillipie ticker is exhausting to me.

I'm not saying people shouldn't complain, only that they should reserve their complaining for the things that really deserve to be complained about. Some people have some really legitimate sucky things happening to their adoptions right now, and I completely sympathize and understand their need to reach out for support and welcome that. But the "OMG it's been 4 weeks since whatever, and I just cannot wait anymore (even though their agency told them it would be this long or longer)" or "I wasn't informed by my SW of so and so (even though there is NO reason your SW would call you out of the blue to tell you about something that doesn't immediately affect you)" or whatever angers me. It's negativity that breeds negativity because everyone rushes to "support" by affirming the injustice of it all and how awful it is.

That's not support; that is mass hysterics and doesn't do anyone any good. Certainly not our children, the agencies, or our hearts. Especially our hearts. Yet, somehow I continue to get sucked into it. I read the threads, I read the blogs, I read the messages. I occasionally try to respond in a supportive but level-headed manner, but find that I tend to look heartless. My outlook on the adoption process (i.e., I'm not OWED anything or any specific time frame and the only thing that is constant about adoption is that you should expected the unexpected, but that at the end of it, you WILL have your child) works for me, but not for everyone and some people have or are having very different experiences than mine that I might not understand, and I need to accept that.

So I have.

I've stopped going to the most boards I find to be filled with the most mass hysteria and rumors. I have started to hold my tongue on a listserv that is home to people who I actually care about on a personal level when things get a little heated and unkind there, and I have stopped following some blogs that are filled with negativity or views on parenting/life that don't add anything of value to my own. I casually skim some of the more aggravating list serves instead of reading the actual comments and taking the time to respond.

Support for those who are in true crisis and who need prayers and good thoughts is something I will always have, but I'm honestly all our of support for the people who want to complain and stir up trouble and gossip just for something to do or because they are having a bad week. It might be selfish or egotistical of me, but the negativity certain things were bringing up in me is unnecessary negativity and not something that needs to be passed on to my son. (Did you know it is a medical fact that children can sense and absorb the mood of their parents, including depression, anger, and fear?)

I acknowledge that this post is my own little drop of negativity out into the world, but I have noticed a marked increase in my daily happiness when I don't allow myself to spend 10 minutes getting sucked into the vortex of all the things that I know are bringing my own mood down--in ALL of my Internet dealings. I now fill myself up with hope for what will be, excitement for what is, compassion for those who are hurting, brilliance and simplicity of parenting ideas and incorporating culture and book recommendations and recipes and picture after picture of pumpkin patches and Tol celebrations and silly smiles and hugs that never fail to bring a smile to my face.

So many things in life, and especially in adoption, are totally outside our control. How I choose to spend my Internet time and fill my head and heart, however, is completely in my control.

To Stalk or Not to Stalk

I'm not creepy, I swear.

Little Bug lived with another little girl in Korea, and we have many pictures of the two of them growing up together. We wanted to keep in touch with this little girl's family, but all our agency could tell us is the state she would be living in and that they would give the family our information.

13 months later...crickets.

After blog stalking for as long as I have, I had thought on a couple of occasions that I might have found this little girl, but it never seemed to pan out. Then, in a stroke of sheer luck, Little Bug's foster family started their own blog (how awesome is that?!?) and another family started following it...a family who used to live in the very state we had been told and who had sent the foster family an updated picture of a little girl who looked very much like the little girl in our pictures.

Here's where it gets a little stalkery.

The woman's profile has no e-mail address, and her family blog is private. Through pictures posted on the other blogs she follows (family member's blogs), I was able to confirm that this was for sure Little Bug's special Korea friend. I would very much like to keep some sort of contact with the family of the girl who lived with Little Bug, but I have no real way to reach them. I could ask the foster family, and might have to in the end, but I would prefer to keep them out of what could be an awkward situation for them should the other family not be receptive.

I mean, it could be that they had our information and chose not to contact us. Well within their prerogative.

So, the most stalkerish idea I've had is to contact the woman's father and mother, whose e-mails and blog I do have access to, and explain who I am and why I would like them to pass along my information.

Appa thinks it's creepy of me to do that. Indeed, stopping perfect strangers from contacting us about intimate family issues was part of the reason we took our blog private. I don't want to overstep my "normal-person" boundaries.

So, what is a noncreepy Mama to do?

No Wonder I Have A Huge Ego

Today two things happened that are completely unrelated to one another and simultaneously totally belong on the same day.

Event One: When I went to pick Little Bug from daycare today, one of the teachers who doesn't usually teach Little Bug was in the room. She proceeded to loudly proclaim to me that Little Bug was "the most loved and favorite child in the whole school." She said other teachers that had no business in the "Waddler Room" would regularly pop in to see Little Bug. This obviously made me feel great, but wasn't surprising. This might sound vain, and I know every mother thinks her baby is the best, but I actually think I have an unhealthy complex where I might sorta-kinda think that MY baby actually is the very best in the whole world. Comments like this do little to bring my baby mama ego in check.

Event Two: I decided to take our family blog private. I've been so attached to that blog for years, and it serves not only as our primary daily connection to our families (who lives across the country), but as a family journal (thank you blurb.com)! It grew from a tiny little "here's what boring old us did this week" to 100+ hits-a-day adoption/family blog/soap box. Appa hated the increase in nameless, faceless readers. It freaked him out. Normally it would freak me out, too. I am, after all, the one who insisted we remain unlisted in the phone directory....you know, just in case. Yet, for some reason I clung to that open blog.

The honest reason is that I loved to brag about my kid. He's so cute and funny. I liked to brag about our family' story and how we became a family. I liked sharing our diary posts from our time in Korea.

I liked people liking us.

But, in the back of my mind, a little voice has been growing louder and louder...telling me that what I was doing, the kind of information I was providing (and I'm not talking address and SSN here, but it wouldn't have taken a savvy hacker to find that stuff based on our blog information), was not in the best interest of my family.

Geez. When I put it that way.

So today when someone who I clearly didn't know from an area of the world that I really had a hard time believing anyone who would care about us was web surfing spent 1.5 hours reading every post I have written, every comment my family and friends have written in response, my gut reaction was "take the blog private."

Logical leap? Perhaps not. However, almost 11 months ago Appa and I were faced with the biggest decision of our lives, and it wasn't an easy one. Literally days before we were to get on the plane to go get Little Bug we got some news that was, in both our American agency and the Korean agency's eyes, a deal-breaker for most soon-to-be parents. With our bags half packed and our hearts full of desperate love and numbing fear, we had to decide whether or not to follow through with our intention to adopt Little Bug. We had little information and a lot of unknowns.

My gut told me then to get on that plane and get my baby.

So maybe my gut telling me today to take my blog private was nothing more than one too many Diet Dr. Peppers before 11 am, or maybe it was something more divine. Either way, when my gut talks now, I listen.

So, back to Event One and Event Two. I think my vanity highlighted in event one is feeding into the sadness I feel over losing the public blogging of event two. Perhaps this private blog will be good for my family in more ways than one.

But seriously, Little Bug is so freaking awesome.

Bite my Tongue (and they should too)

I'm not perfect. I often get riled up quickly and with little provocation. I too often rush to present my view on things...because, let's face it, everyone naturally thinks that our view is worth listening to.

Lately I have been having to remind myself to take a breath and try to empathize or sympathize with someone before flying off the handle with my thoughts. People deal with stress in different ways, and oftentimes get caught up in details without stopping to reason through; I know I do. People sometimes need someone to blame when things feel out of their control.

So in the spirit of this being my blog (that I know most people don't read), I'm going to get a couple things off my chest and avoid bothering people who are dealing with a very real stress (I know, because I was there).

Let's talk adoption. Specifically Korean adoption. Specifically the mother-f-ing mystical P3 and Visa Interview (VI) that happen in the final stages before the children are cleared to travel to the US. Our agency claims these do not "exist" but other agencies and other message boards claim they do. US Immigration claims they do.

Adoption agencies have a lot of different philosophies. Our agency's philosophy for families to wait the reasonable amount of time before checking on paperwork....because frankly, they and the families have no control over it when it gets to Korea, so why freak out over it right away?

You want to know what I have been told? The P3 is a package of paperwork that goes to the Korean agency and must be returned to the embassy in Seoul before anything final can happen. However, it is all part of the final Visa step, so I don't think our agency breaks it out. The visa interview debate takes winners on both sides. It does exist, but not in the sense of an actual interview. Our children never show up at the embassy and babble for the officials. It's just a time set aside for our child's paperwork to be approved. Then all that paperwork goes back to the Korean agency and the travel call is issued after that. That is my opinion.

Or maybe I am the naive idiot. Maybe the adoption agency with 30+ years experience that we used is filled with idiots who intentionally want to upset families and hinder children's travel to their families, so they intentionally lie to stressed out families.

Or maybe, just maybe, different people call things different things. One man's P3 is another man's undefinable step in a larger process. Maybe our agency (and others like them) tries to minimize the freak-out that happens weeks before the travel call is expected to be issued. Families get upset when they call the state department every day for an update and nothing is there? Well, maybe that wouldn't happen if the families trusted their agency when they tell them to wait two weeks before calling instead of blaming the agency.

Don't even get me started on people getting angry that things are not happening faster than they were quoted. I can't go there today.

As I write this, I know that my perspective is jaded. I personally know and care for the person who is often accused of being the devious mastermind of withholding information. I went through the wait, and despite being prone to anxiety, I did not get publicly angry when my wait dragged on, I did not get publicly angry when I didn't get information that I was never promised in the first place, and I although the wait was awful, I didn't decide to start blaming people who have no control over the process and refused to buck the process for my impatience.

Adoption is a painful process, but it is nothing if not unpredictable. It sucks, but that.is.the.way.it.is.

This is harsh, I know, but I have to get it off my chest. If people want to bitch about a "worst-case scenario" or such an excruciating adoption experience, step right up and take me on. BRING IT ON. What my husband and I went through in the three weeks prior to meeting our son was a special brand of hell that few, if any that I know of, can match. We have not shared our story publicly because we worry that others, who are less inclined to accept the unpredictability and risk of adoption will use it against our agency, and I will be damned if that happens. The last thing I want to do is scare others off from the joys of adoption.

Look, every person has a valid right to feel pain and anguish as they wait for their child to come home...but why chose negativity? Does that make it feel better?

I have so much respect for the people who deal with this frustrating process in a classy way. They get frustrated, angry, and depressed, of course, but they chose faith and reason to cope in very public forums. Everyone has bad days, I certainly did and I am sure I will again when we get close to Little Bro's homecoming, but it's those people who can see the bad day for what it is--a bad day in an emotionally draining process--who daily remind me of what class and strength look like.

Oh, and those are the ladies who bite their tongue when the chatter gets a little poisonous as others' frustration turns mean spirited. I am learning from them that sometimes keeping silent is the best form of strength.

Can you tell that I am having a bad day myself? This post is my silent scream.