New York, New York!
I just got back from a two week work trip to Washington DC and New York, for a series of meetings and conferences. Although I was looking forward to some of the conferences and seeing colleagues and friends, this felt like a long trip and part of me was dreading it too. As much as I love travelling, lately I’ve been in nesting mode and find myself just wanting to hang out at home rather than hauling around luggage between hotels and cities. All that said, it wound up being a fun trip. Best of all, I had a bit of free time in between work events and so managed to squeeze in a few visits with old friends from grad school. While in DC, I visited with my friend Noelle and her kids Aidan and Keira again. It was a short trip, but we managed to play a rousing game of Monopoly. (As an aside, can you believe there’s a version of Monopoly now where Park Place, Marvin Gardens and the other properties have been replaced by online “properties” like Yahoo and Disney! And the silver show show and top hat that you move around the board is now an Angry Bird. Boy did I feel old fashioned!). Keira was very proud of her stuffed Bodhi, which I had given her after her visit in April, where she fell in love with my Bodhi (the real one!). After DC, I was in New York City for the weekend. I visited with my friend Jen her daughter, another Kira! Jen, Noelle and I were best buds in grad school. I was so struck by how much their Keira/Kira’s look and act like them — little Jen and Noelle “mini-me’s!” Check out the old photo below of the three of us on vacation in Spain while in grad school (circa 1998?) and the pictures of each of their girls. Guess which kid and Mom go together?
I also got to see my friends Zemer and Coleen and their “mini-me’s” Benjamin and Lena. We spent a nice Sunday exploring the Chelsea and lower east side. We had a nice walk on The High Line, visited the new Whitney Museum of American Art and got to experience the all-plant “I can’t believe it’s not meat” Impossible Burger at Momofuku. Not to mention ice cream and cupcakes to round out the day. It was a really fun Sunday.
There was something so lovely about seeing these friends who I first got to know when we were in our 20s, as parents with kids, families and accomplished careers. I love seeing them with their little “mini-me’s” and getting to know their kids, though truthfully, these moments are also bittersweet. There’s a part of me , when seeing friends and their kids all together, that does get a bit sad and wistful for a child of my own. I have friends who have told me that they worried that it must be hard to spend time with them and their kids, that it might make me sad. And some who have worried about inviting me to events with lots of kids and parents, like birthday parties, wondering whether I might feel uncomfortable. I feel lucky to have friends who are so thoughtful and considerate about my feelings but what I tell them all is that I really don’t want people worrying about me and certainly, don’t want friends to think they should avoid exposing me to their kids. Being with kids of course reminds of what I’m missing and longing for. I’d be lying if I said that sometimes it doesn’t hurt. But that’s not the overwhelming feeling. I don’t want to spend my life or this time waiting in a child-free bubble. More often when I’m having fun with your kids and seeing you being great parents, I’m reminded, in a positive way, of why all of this effort, angst and waiting is going to be worth it. Being with your kids is actually motivating and confirming of what I know in my heart to be true, that I want a child as the center of my world too. It reminds me of how much I love kids and what a great Mom I am going to strive to be. I’ve found that one of the hardest things about this adoption waiting limbo is keeping it feeling real and tangible. After you get past the point of all the research, forms, interviews, putting together websites and letters and the like, it feels like there’s just time and waiting. You spend time updating websites and checking your phone and email accounts hoping for a call, but as the days and weeks and months go by, its become harder and harder to feel that this is all real and that something is happening while I’m here in waiting. For me, spending time with kids, my friends and their families has honestly been a lifeline in this waiting limbo. Being around your kids has kept me sane and feeling connected and has given me hope and inspiration.
I should say that I know from conversations with other waiting adoptive parents that not everyone feels this way about being around kids. Some parents-in-waiting do find it painful to be around kids and do avoid situations with kids or families. While that’s not been true for me, I certainly respect those feelings and can see where they come from. What I would say as advice to folks who have friends who are waiting to adopt (or for that matter, friends who are trying to conceive and grow their family in other ways) is that the best approach is just to ask your friend what they prefer. You can ask them how they are doing. Ask them whether being with your kids makes them uncomfortable. Ask them how you can help and support them. Don’t be afraid to bring up the issue. Trust me, your asking and bringing up the issue won’t be anymore of a reminder or trigger than not asking, and more likely, they will appreciate your thinking of them.
It’s funny how sometimes the universe speaks to you in mysterious ways. Yesterday, I had two unexpected experiences where I feel like I really learned something about the value of openness and vulnerability.
Last weekend, I went away with my friend Phil for a long weekend to Tassajara, a Zen monastery and hot springs four hours south of here, in the mountains outside of Carmel Valley. This was our second Tassajara trip and I am hopeful we’re going to make this an annual tradition. It’s hard to describe the calming magic of Tassajara. Tassajara is the oldest Soto Zen monastery in the United States. The hot springs are the main physical attraction, though Tassajara is about so much more than the hot springs. The hot springs were originally discovered by the Esselen native people and even then the springs were known for their restorative properties. Later in the 1900s , the hot springs were part of a mountain resort, where Californians would come to “take the cure” for the supposed healing powers waters. By the 50s and early 60s, the resort had fallen in disrepair and then was rediscovered by Shunryu Roshi who founded the San Francisco Zen Center and brought new life to Tassajara, as a center for the study of Zen Buddhism. Tassajara today remains an active Zen monastery, where for most of the year, students come here for the monastic life, to meditate and study Buddhism. During the spring and summer, Tassajara is open for the “guest season” and “guests” from the lay world can come for retreats and workshops, or just to get away. The hot springs themselves are beautiful and relaxing, with the baths having a very Japan architecture, adding to the relaxing zen feel. A babbling creek runs through the center of Tassajara and its melody. along with the chirping birds, is constantly in the background. At regularly intervals in the day, its gurgling is interrupted with the gentle gongs and bells from the Zendo, calling the students to Zazen (meditation). Part of the magic of Tassajara is the journey. Tassajara itself is that end of the long 14 mile rugged, narrow, steep and winding one-lane dirt road, one that some are brave enough to drive but we got a ride from the nearby town via the Tassajara “stage” (aka a SUV with 4 wheel drive and good brakes!). My first ever trip to Tassajara was one where I drove alone and made the mistake of arriving close to dusk. I’ll never forget that drive down that bumpy, narrow, dirt road, wondering whether I would ever get out of there alive. I was smart enough for that trip (having been warned!) to have rented a 4 wheel drive (there’s no way my little car would have made it!) but even so, it was by far the scariest drive of my life. It’s common for cars to burn out their breaks or pop tires coming down this road. Our driver told us that at least four times per season someone’s car completely breaks down. The funniest story of this season was the person who drove their Tessla in not realizing that they would not be able to charge it once there (talk about clueless and entitled!). When you are driving down that road, one wonders why people even bother, but then, you get to the bottom, and there you are, in this truly magical place. The stress of the drive just melts away. You really feel like you are a million miles away from the real world when you’re there. There is no internet or phone reception and in fact, you’re discouraged from even having your phone visible. Electricity is also limited. Even a few years ago, none of the cabins had electricity. The only lights there were old-fashioned gas lanterns, but now they’ve exchanged these with solar lights. The food is all vegetarian and super-delicious, especially the home baked Tassajara bread that they are so famous for. Whenever I arrive at Tassajara, I just notice my body and mind getting lighter. My steps slow down and I can feel my mind recentering. I had first come to Tassajara a few years ago for a workshop, not quite knowing what to expect. I initially took up meditation in the period after my Mom died. That was a difficult time for me and meditation helped me refind myself and start to come to terms with the grief and trauma of her illness and death. I had heard about Tassajara from various people over the years but never made the trip myself. It’s one of those places where people come year after year. Phil and I met people who have been making the annual pilgrimage for 30 plus years. As a result, it’s not so easy to get a reservation. On my first visit, I actually got lucky and signing up for this workshop was a rather spur of the moment decision and lucky break that there was a last minute opening. That workshop, which was about making life changes, really transformed me in many ways, and I got my first taste of the magic of Tassajara. It seemed fated somehow. This past weekend was no less perfect. We spent the weekend hiking, lounging in the hot springs, swimming in the creek’s swimming pool, reading and just catching up and slowing down. The special moments are many—sitting in the hot springs at night staring up at a sky overflowing with stars; escaping the incessant pull of my iphone and not thinking about emails for three whole days; watching the blue jays chatter up a storm from our porch overlooking the creek; swimming in the swimming hole at the Narrows; naps by the pool and sleeping late; watching my mind slow down and catching up with myself. Bliss. Throughout this adoption journey and especially as I wait, it’s been really helpful for me to find time, like this weekend, to get away. With the adoption wait, you are always “on” somehow, waiting for the phone to ring or an email to arrive. Most of the time, it’s just crickets, seemingly nothing happening and the phone silent and yet, I am in constant fear being out of contact and missing THE call. It’s hard to be constantly on call and waiting, so I made a decision early on not to put my life on hold while I waited. Sure, that does mean special arrangements sometimes—like this weekend, making sure my counselors had the main phone number at Tassajara if something came up or buying trip insurance for my vacations, just in case they need to be cancelled. It’s not that I wouldn’t drop everything to be ready when the time comes—in fact, I probably would even have hiked out that 14 mile dirt road from Tassajara if that were necessary. But, making sure that I still enjoy my life for what it is, as it is now, keeps me grounded and optimistic, even when the wait seems unbearable.
I’ve been working on a revised “Dear Birthmother Letter” and at long last, it’s finished! The final prints came in the mail this week! For those of you who have been following my adoption journey, I should perhaps back-up a bit. I decided a little while back to diversify my adoption strategy and started working with an additional adoption agency. I really like IAC (Independent Adoption Center, the nonprofit open adoption-focused agency I’ve been working with since I started this process), but for various reasons, I started to feel that I wanted a more hands-on approach to help me find my way to this special baby. It was a big step (and major financial commitment) to start working with a second agency, but I feel like it’s the right choice for me and have been excited for this next step. This agency has a bit of a different outreach philosophy than IAC and a different approach to the “Dear Birthmother Letter,” so here I am, revising my Letter again.
Last weekend I took a birthday (mine!) roadtrip with my friend Michelle to Mendocino for a “Two gals and a dog” spa weekend. It turns out Mendocino is a super dog friendly place and the inn we stayed at (The Inn at Schoolhouse Creek) bills itself as a “pet friendly” spa resort. It certainly lived up to that! Everyone there seemed to have a dog with them and the restaurant even allowed you to bring your dog for breakfast, even had a doggy menu that was as good the human-menu. It was a bit over the top in some respects but was a great place to stay. Bodhi certainly loved being a pampered pup! We had a great time exploring Mendocino, walking on the beaches, visiting Point Cabrillo light house, relaxing in the hot tub and catching up on reading, collecting driftwood on the beach. With the fog and dramatic scenery, Mendocino also has a moodiness to it that I just love.We had a great drive back wine tasting along the way, as we wound our way through Anderson Valley.
I went to my monthly adoption support group tonight. I try to go most months when I am in town. I am generally glad I do, though it’s a mix of emotions each time. It’s helpful to meet other families in the same boat, but at the same time, it marks the passage of time, another month without a match, feeling that I am stuck and that this is not moving forward, wondering whether this will work out. The mantra is always “patience”,”hang in there”, “waiting is the hardest part.” All that may be true but still, it doesn’t make the waiting limbo feel any easier and in all honesty, hearing the mantra time and time again, just starts to wear thin. There’s always a topic for the meeting, usually some informational component on one of the many, many logistical, legal or sometimes emotional ins-and-outs of adoption. Today’s topic was all about birth fathers and the rights they have in the adoption match. Let’s just say there was a LOT to process, and a lot to start to worry about. In all the training and counseling that goes on for potential adoptive parents, there’s generally a lot of discussion around birthmothers (as there should be) but comparatively less so about birth fathers. But, they are, of course, a part of this too and the legal issues around consent are complicated and the potential complicating scenarios are many. In earlier stages of this, I used to approach these types of discussions by taking tons of notes, sucking in every last nitty gritty detail, learning as much as I can to prepare myself for the possible scenarios. I’m nothing if not a good student and researcher and that’s generally been my strategy for life—arm myself with as much information and preparation in advance, so I can’t be taken by surprise. “Be Prepared,” as the Boy Scout motto goes; an adaptive strategy that probably most Type-A achievers like me learned early in life. But, as time has passed and also hearing more and more adoption stories from adoptive and wanna-be-adoptive parents, it just became clear to me that every situation and story is so different that you can’t really prepare for all the inevitable surprises. And in fact, you can drive yourself (and probably others around you) crazy with trying to foreshadow the possibilities and prepare for every scenario. The best you can do is let go and be open (there’s that word again!) to whatever happens. 
The last few weeks have been a bit of a blur and so I am finally catching up on finishing some old posts. I am big sentimentalist about holidays. I just love celebrating holiday traditions. Even better when there are kids involved. It lets me be a big kid too! Easter is one of my favorite holidays. There’s the excitement of spring and the world coming back to life and color after a gray winter. Coloring eggs is a lot of fun and of course, who can’t love a holiday centered on candy and chocolate. I have great memories of Easter as a kid. I remember hunting for eggs that my Dad (aka the Easter Bunny) had hidden and how in some years “the easter bunny” did such a good job hiding the eggs that we’d be finding (or smelling!) errant eggs weeks later. I remember hoarding my chocolate bunny, not willing to eat it because that might hurt the bunny and being horrified to find my bunny, which I had carefully tucked away, eaten up by my little brother. This year I did a two-take Easter. Since I knew I’d be travelling to the east coast for Easter weekend, the weekend before Easter I had friends over to my house in Berkeley for brunch and an egg hunt. And then the following weekend, on the “real” Easter Sunday I was in Connecticut celebrating Otto’s first Easter. Otto seemed to like the Radio Flyer baby trike I got him as an Easter gift. Easter Sunday was lovely weather and we had a nice walk to their local park nearby. I’m not sure who had more fun playing with the plastic (cheerio loaded) eggs, Otto or Gary, the dog. Gary figured out the trick pretty quickly and was all over the eggs! It was a fun two weekends. I’m in the midst of updating my adoption brochure (more on that later in another post!) so the timing was good for getting some fun photos. I knew the visit to Connecticut was going to be a bittersweet weekend, with it being Otto’s first Easter but also coming up on the fifth anniversary of my Mom’s death. My Mom died just before Easter in 2011 and I think of her so often this time of year, around Easter and spring. We visited the cemetery to put flowers on my Mom and Dad’s graves, the first visit there with Otto in tow and I couldn’t help but think about how much Mom and Dad would have loved him. This year, maybe for the first year since Mom died, looking at Otto, I could really feel both how life moves forward and on in the next generation and how the memories and traditions we grew up with bridge the past and present and keep those we’ve loved and lost alive in spirit. There’s some sort of peace in realizing this.
Two of my new year’s resolutions this year were to be more spontaneous and to explore more of my adopted home state of California. Death Valley is one of the hottest and driest places in the US. This year, with the combination of rainstorms in the fall and warm winter weather, this normally barren place is alive with color. Seeds that have been dormant are sprouting and painting the landscape in shades of yellow, white and purple. A “superbloom” like this is rare–once in a decade. I’ve never been to Death Valley but had been thinking about wanting to get out to see the wildflowers, since this year, with the rains, they are bound to be spectacular. So, when I read about the “Death Valley Superbloom” a few weeks ago, I immediately thought, “Let’s go!” I feel very lucky to have friends willing to take up the call and head off for the weekend. Thanks Willy, Judy, and Sophia! Our “roadtrip” turned out to be a bit circuitous because, as it turns out, when thousands of tourists decide to make the pilgrimage to Death Valley, hotel vacancies become very scarce in rural Nevada. Not to be daunted, we decide to stay in Vegas and drive from there. Vegas itself was an adventure, having never been. All in all, it was a fantastic weekend and just what I needed. The last few weeks have been tough. I’ve been both very busy at work and also feeling really anxious and sad about being in adoption “waiting limbo” and as a result, it’s just been hard to get out of my head. This roadtrip did a lot to restore some balance. Just seeing this amazing scenery, having fun with my friends and living in the moment has been a great respite and chance to escape even if just for a weekend.
Waiting for my stork 