the kindness of strangers

Once you make the decision to adopt, you become part of a large community of people who have adopted and are eager to share their experiences. Perhaps I have been lucky, but all the stories I have heard have been extremely positive. Most people who have adopted, especially internationally, have said the experience is completely life changing, not only because you now have a little one to love , but also because of the incredible experience of getting out of one's own life and seeing how the other half live, so to speak. Many have shared the heartbreak of seeing so many needy children holed up in orphanages. And of course, one is suddenly thrust into the realities of third world poverty and struggle. the adoption community has been embracing, kind and forthright. To them, I say, thank you for sharing all of your experiences.

I have been touched by the kindness of strangers - people who have offered advice, information and hope. S. is one such person who lives here in Park Slope. My sister had mentioned her to me months before I was anywhere near contemplating adoption. I was still on the infertility merry go round and any mention of adoption felt like a jinx upon my invitro process. My sister remembers me lashing out at her and saying " No, I don't want to speak to her about adoption..." I was obviously not ready.

After some of the mourning had begun to lift over the loss of not having my own biological child, I began to comtemplate the idea of adopting. My husband and I had endured too many to count artificial inseminations, 4 failed invitros and one ectopic pregnancy which was one of the saddest experiences of my life. I knew I was finished with the medical path after my doctor had told me that our last donor egg transfer had failed because of bad "egg karma".

The truth was I had always felt sorry for adopted children, wondering, who were their "real" parents. I remember distinctly, at a young age, feeling badly for my friends who had been adopted. Perhaps these feelings were prevalent because adoption was very hushhush in the 1960's. Or maybe it seemed scary because it highlighted every child's fear of being left alone and parentless. In any case, I realized that many of my negative attitudes about adoption had accompanied me into adulthood. Obviously, I was going to have to face them head on as I began the journey towards adopting my child.

I finally called S. one day and she shared her beautiful story about adopting her son, E. from Colombia. She was informative, positive and so happy that her enthusiasm was infectious. I ran into her a few times with her adorable toddler in tow and kept her up to date on our progress. She always asked, in the most gracious fashion, how things were going. She always prefaced a question by saying," I hope you don't mind me asking." I completely welcomed her questions and support.

One morning I saw her from across the street and she touched her chin in a gesture of "chin up". This was after I had shared some bureaucratic delays we were experiencing. The gesture, was such a sensitive reminder that she had travelled a similar path. Recently, I told her about our progress and the current state of limbo waiting for our "referral" ( a picture of our child), and her eyes welled up and she said "I have chills". Obviously, my experience brought up memories of the difficult waiting period that she had also endured. She also reminded me that the wait was worth the precious prize at the end. A baby to love

Adoption is a unique journey towards parenthood. There is no swelling belly, shopping for maternity clothes, sonograms, or morning sickness. It is sometimes hard to feel like an expectant mother at all. Instead, one is overwhelmed by documents, fingerprints,notaries, apostiles and inquisitive social workers. When I am feeling frustrated and impatient, I think of S's gesture, a finger brushing her chin that seemed to offer so much. And I appreciate the powerful connection between strangers who quickly become friends.

Don't say anything

It has become clear to me as I've struggled through infertility and the process of adoption, that on the whole, people tend to say the wrong thing. Yes, intentions are well and good but they usually say something irritating and irksome. So I've compiled a list of things not to say.

If someone is telling you about their difficulty getting pregnant, don't tell them to relax or take a" vacation" with their husband.

If it is obvious that a couple is struggling with infertility don't tell them that you just look at your wife and she gets pregnant. don't say anything.

Don't tell anyone infertility can be cured by doing yoga, taking vitamins or eating properly. Especially, don't tell anyone to stop drinking coffee. Don't say anything

As I've moved into the world of adoption, there are numerous conversational pitfalls people tend to fall into.

Inevitably, someone will tell you that once you stop the infertility treatments, you'll get pregnant, or once you adopt, you'll miraculously get pregnant because the pressure will be off. Because, tension and anxiety are the causes of infertility, didn't you know? In fact you're too tense and that's what's causing the problem. You want it too much. Don't say anything.

If someone is telling you they are adopting from Russia, don't tell them how "cute" those chinese babies are - Don't say anything.

If someone is telling you they are adopting from Russia, don't warn them about chronic diseases and FAS ( if you don't know the acronym, don't worry, you will if you are adopting from Russia.) Yes, these warnings are important. Nevertheless, a person about to adopt is probably going to already know about these issues - and probably stays up at night worrying about them. It is best to not say anything.

If someone is telling you that they are adopting from Russia, don't tell them how easy it was for your friend, aunt, sister to adopt in the US. "It was so fast and easy, I'll get you the number..." Don't say anything.

the truth is you can't stop anyone from saying whatever they want to say. Instead, you must harden yourself to other people's opinions, words, innuendoes, etc. This is true in all areas of life, and perhaps it is a good exercise in holding onto yourself and not letting other people rock your resolve. It certainly toughens you.

It is hard to hold onto one's fragile sense of hope when one is vulnerable to the opinionated chatter of others. The lesson here is to stop listening to others, and start listening to what is inside one's heart.

I am adopting because I want to be a parent and to love a child. I know there are many risks but I am willing to take this great leap of faith. This requires a certain amount of bravery and a good pair of psychic ear plugs.



I

Saturday morning 12am I Need Love on repeat

It is Saturday morning post-Charlie Rose and my computer is repeatedly playing a very sad and sweet song called "I Need Love" by Sam Phillips, her voice sultry, sexy and smokey. I'm feeling sad tonight.

What a day. A fight with my father over a mix-up regarding plans I won't bore you with. And in typical Dad fashion, he swatted me away like a fly, diminishing my voice and feelings. It is so hard to have a voice around my father. I told him not to treat me with disrespect because, " I AM YOUR DAUGHTER!" Standing up for myself and challenging my father makes me feel so guilty and so darn sad too. By evening we seem to have made peace.

I called the adoption agency and they called right back. Lauren said, " Your ears must have been ringing because I was just talking about you to my supervisor..." She said that there are a sibling pair of girls ages 2 and 4. They are apparently well recommended. But she knows we are looking for younger children, and probably not two - but she wanted to put it out there for us. Wow, two girls. Two real children awaiting a home. And how sad to think of them together, awaiting placement. I don't think it is the right situation for us, but just the thought of them made me feel hopeful and a little bit sad too that they would probably not be ours.

A., my 7 year old niece overheard me mentioning the sibling pair to my mother and said " Could I have one? I want a sister..." Speaking of A. we tried to get her to say hello to Jeff but she wouldn't and scurried out of our apartment instead of having to do so.

So Jeff doesn't get a hello, two girls in Russia await a new mom and H struggles with new and unusual yearnings and I continue to try to be heard by my father.

Life is hard sometimes.

Shopping at Target

L. and A. planned a trip to the new Target in Brooklyn and I decided to join them. It occured to me that I might as well bring the very long list of things I need to bring to the orphanage, including clothing for the children (no used items), gifts for the caregivers, some sort of gift to the orphange at large, and most importantly things I will need for our baby. The list, needless to say, is very long. But being the power shopper that I am ( 20 years as a stylist and set decorator), I accepted the challenge and grabbed a big red shopping cart and started shopping.

L. and A. were very helpful, A. was especially adept in the art supplies section, picking out all of her favorites including crayons, markers, and multi-colored pipe cleaners. The adoption agency suggested bringing art supplies to the kids, and I loved the idea. We filled the cart with a coloful array of supplies. Then I picked out some hats and scarves for the care-givers. A., who is 7 years old kept asking "Who are we buying this stuff for?" A good question since I'm sure this all seemed very confusing to her. I told her we were buying stuff for the other children at the orphanage and the scarves, hats and watches were for people like, her babysitter, Rose, who take care of the children in the Russian orphanage.

The three of us then headed upstairs and found ourselves in the baby and toddler department. We discovered a sale rack of onesies, t-shirts, pants and other adorable clothing, all for under $10.00. Of course I picked things as if I were dressing my own child, and trying to balance the clothing between boys and girls. I remember one of the adoption people telling us not to be surprised to see little boy's dressed in girl's clothing since they put them in whatever is available.

A. said she was tired of shopping for baby stuff. I don't think she had foreseen that this would be a shopping trip for the baby, but more a spree for her. So she retreated to the toy department to pick out a present for all her hard work. L and I continued into the depths of the baby dept. and started tackling the part of the list devoted to my baby's needs. We started pulling baby shampoo, vaseline, baby oil, thermometers and the quintessential baby supply Desitin off the shelves. A. joined us again and I sent her out on a search mission for washcloths, spoons and sippy cups. A. was also quite helpful in picking out pacifiers for boys and girls. L. was extremely helpful as well in recommending some of her favorite brands.

My favorite item was a adorable bowl with top decorated with images of Winnie the Pooh. At this point, the cart was near overflowing and we decided to conclude our shopping spree. We checked out $375 poorer but the experience was truly priceless. As we were leaving, I saw pregnant women coming in to do the same thing, preparing for their new lives, a little hesitantly, but also with great hope and excitement.

Early morning call with Urn

It is early wednesday am - very early, 4am and I'm getting ready to leave for work - a shoot at Matsuri, the Japanese restaurant in the Maritime Hotel . I've replaced another set decorator JA and I'm covering the shoot days. Notwithstanding, I did panic last night and made a last minute run to Crate and Barrel and purchased a large ( 24" high and very heavy ) ceramic urn that practically dislocated my hip bringing it home. Sometime I have to laugh at the absurdity of my job and the things I do for the love of it. So me and the urn will be leaving shortly. We watched the debates Jeff, me and the urn ) and I thought John Edwards was great - of course, I'm a democrat. Dick Cheney is so arrogant and condescending. I really hate him, gay daughter or not. I thought Edwards was forceful, aggressive and charming. Way to go John. I hated when Cheney was patronizing to him. I guess you could say his attacks on his record was effective, but nonethless, thumbs up to John. Did I mention the commercial we are shooting is for a diamond store called Helzberg. I've never heard of it, but apparently it is in malls in queens and the country at large. It's about a hot guy on his way to propose to his love, carrying a special Herzberg box with a gold ribbon and wherever he goes, beautiful women take note of his good looks,"mojo" and elegant little box. No kidding. That's the name of the commercial, "mojo". Somehow, the Helzberg box just doesn't have the cache of the little blue box with the white ribbon, but hey, good try, ad people. So me and the urn are off to the showers. see ya.