Knocked Up

It was March 14th. I was bored; I wanted to watch a little TV. I couldn't find much on that interested me. I checked my Guide. "Knocked Up" was on E! at 7:30.

I'd seen it before. H and I watched it on DVD. Just seeing the title and description took me back. I told myself to find something else to watch. Anything else.

I couldn't. I didn't. I watched it.

I thought of H the whole time. I missed him horribly. I wondered, not for the first time but certainly with renewed panic, whether I'd ever be in a relationship again. I missed H. I missed being with him, I missed our relationship. I missed watching movies, ordering pizza, acting a little goofy and being completely enamored of each other. I missed the slight scratch of his goatee as he kissed me. I missed the way he'd look at me, like I was the most beautiful, amazing woman on earth. I missed believing he meant it when he said he loved me. I missed believing that I loved him back.

It depressed me. Horribly.

The movie depressed me for other reasons, too. Mainly because I'm not Alison and H isn't Ben. I always hoped that H would pull a Ben - grow up, be responsible, be involved. Love me. Pledge something - his heart, his time, his attention, something. I always hoped for something more. It never came.

"Knocked Up" was pitched as this raunchy guy movie. And it certainly is (I think the unedited version contains more expletives than "The Departed"). But it's also a sort of fairy tale. It's fantasy. Completely unrealistic. Things don't really happen like they did in the movie. The guy never grows up. Never. There's no happy ending. Mistakes with birth control do not turn into happy families.

And yet I wish they did. I wish that H was the best version of himself, and that we were together in a cozy little place with our baby. I wonder if I'll ever have another shot at that kind of cozy domesticity to which I aspire.

I hate that movie. I hate it. I hate how it made me feel, how it made me miss things. I hate it, and I hate how it's made me reconsider my life without H. It brought up things I don't want to think about, feelings I don't want to feel. It made me miss H, and I HATE it when I miss H. I don't ever want to miss him.

I hate that I do. I hate that life is never like the movies. I hate that I wasn't enough for H. That a baby - HIS baby - wasn't reason enough for him to grow up, to be a man, to stand for something. I hate him sometimes. I hate myself sometimes. I wish I could take back the past two years of my life.

Except for Roo. I'd never take back Roo. I'm learning, slowly but surely, to appreciate that the crap I've been through is what got her here. She is worth my miserable past.

If having her means I cry while watching crappy movies, so be it. I can live with that. I confess, I wonder if H can live with that too. I wonder if he's seen "Knocked Up" since things went sour between us. I wonder what he thinks. If he regrets anything. If he ever misses me. If he ever envies Ben.

I hope he does. I hope he's learned something from all of this. I know that I have.

April 2009, Part Three

I feel like I’ve picked on my big sister a lot in this blog. But at the same time, it’s not my fault she’s given me so much material, is it? That sounded a bit more mercenary than I intended. I digress. I’m not done picking on her yet. Mostly because of how she picked on me. I got e-mail from her (the day after H’s letter) that made me cry.

I know she meant well. I know she loves me. But my sister is just … I don’t know. I think a tactful way of putting it would be to say that sometimes she says (or types) things without stopping to consider how her words might be taken.

Most of the e-mail was the sort of things I’d expected – have faith in the Lord and His plan, get a priesthood blessing, remember that eternity is a long time, she supported me no matter what … blah blah blah. The kicker was at the end, and I quote:

"Not that you should go back and deal with the LDSSS people, but might there be another couple that you passed over, or just decided to adopt that you might consider? No couple would be perfect, but at least they could give your baby a family to be sealed to."

In other words, it doesn’t matter if you actually like them. Anyone would be better parents than you. I pity my mother; I’m sure I had nothing good to say about my sister after that, and my mom was the only person to whom I could vent.

I had arranged to meet S for dinner. I had a copy of H’s e-mail with me. As she read it, she reacted just as I had hoped, with plenty of eye rolling and a "Who does he think he is?" here and there for good measure.

"And he’s so messed up," I said. "He thinks he’s still got rights after he ignored his paperwork. He doesn’t have any rights!"

S nodded emphatically. "Well," she said between sips of Sierra Mist, "unless you decide to single parent."

I choked on my own beverage.

"What?"

It turns out, S had inadvertently misinformed my mother on the phone. Adoption, H had nothing to do with. But he did indeed have rights if I kept my baby. The thought chilled me to the bone. I cried, I lost my appetite.

"That’s not what you told my mother," I said, upset and confused. "You told her H has no rights anymore."

"I thought she was talking about adoption," S said. "Your mother must have misunderstood."

Now I was cheesed. My mother may have her shortcomings, but I knew she hadn’t misunderstood. I had made my mom go over her conversation with S in detail, and my mother assured me that twice she had made sure that S understood my mom was talking about me single parenting.

I left dinner early and got slightly hysterical on the way home. I told my mom what had happened. She let me cry as I spoke, and remained preternaturally calm. She told me not to worry about things, and to just tell H that I was going with adoption, since he’d been so eager for a response. I did just that. It was a very short e-mail.

I hated knowing that H had rights. I felt like my hand was being forced, like adoption was my only recourse, my only way of keeping my baby safe. And I didn’t want to place my baby for adoption! I wanted more than ever to be her mommy. My own mommy said that no one could force me to do anything, and she’s send me and my baby out of the country if she had to. That she would never let anyone take my baby away. For my part, I just hoped that H would leave me alone now that I’d given him a decision that didn’t involve him.

A Few Wee Updates

It's late (and early, actually), so I apologize if this doesn't make as much sense typed out as it did in my head. (Danya can attest to the fact that I get distinctly goofy when I am not at my best and brightest.)

I just went through all my HTA buttons and links again - I was pleased to discover that a number of couples have either been chosen by birth moms or have adopted. So I cleaned house again. I also deleted links to blogs that haven't been updated in a few years if I couldn't find the couple listed on the It's About Love website. I was too lazy to adjust my link list and organize it by state but I did add state abbreviations by couple names to make things easier for potential birth moms. Not every name has a state listed next to it. I didn't feel up to hunting for the information. If it wasn't easy to find, I gave up. "That easily?" you might ask. Well, yes. I usually do.

Which brings me to something I wish I'd thought to add on my last post about couple profiles/blogs. If you want to refer the blog reader to your on-line profile, pretty please add a link. Don't make me - I mean them - type names or profile numbers in a search box. I know there was something else that came to my mind but I've forgotten what it was. Hmm. That's going to bother me.

I used to get irritated with my faulty neurotransmitters, but I have to admit, insomnia has its perks. I'm impressed with how much I've been able to improve bits of my blog in the wee hours of the morning. When God closes a door, He opens a window.

A Few (ha-ha) Words of Advice for Couples

I first started this blog as a record for Roo. I wanted her to know where she came from, how she came to be with her family, and what sort of person her birth mom was.

It's grown since then. I would have figured I'd hear from birth moms about my blog. I've heard from more adoptive couples than anything, which has been great. I've gained a new perspective and a better appreciation of couples who adopt.

I would never presume to speak for every birth mom or potential birth mom out there. I only speak for myself. But, that said, I am a birth mom (and I have birth moms friends). I went through the process of looking at couple profiles and trying to choose parents for my baby. I saw a lot of profiles that were very well done ... and some that were a turn-off. No couple's profile or blog should be a turn-off! No couple sets out to make themselves unappealing. But it happens sometimes because they simply don't know what to say - or what not to say. As such, I offer the following suggestions (for blogs, profiles, meetings with potential birth moms, and relationships with your child’s birth mom).

Meetings and Relationships
-Don’t make promises you won’t/can’t keep – forever. When in doubt, don’t promise. In that vein, don’t start something you can’t keep up. As in business, it’s best to underpromise and overdeliver.

-Remember, when planning for openness, that things will be very different once placement is done. Your feelings about contact and/or the relationship will likely change. This is why it’s best to avoid overpromising.

-When in doubt, err on the side of too much contact with the birth mom. There almost can’t be too many pictures or updates or input or visits. The birth mom will let you know if you need to back off. Just because something may hurt a birth mom (baby shower, court date, sealing, etc) doesn’t mean you shouldn’t offer her the chance to be there. Not being invited can hurt worse.

-Be open and honest to a fault – COMMUNICATE. Don’t ever let communication between you and your birth mom get awkward or stressful. Love her and trust her enough to be honest, open and communicative. (P and M excel at this, which I love.)

-Remember, when you’re going to meet with a potential birth mom, that she is as nervous as you are. Gifts are nice, but she’s not going to expect it, and if you do want to bring her something, keep it inexpensive and neutral. Flowers are good. You don’t want her to feel like you’re plying her with gifts to get her to choose you.

-Relax. Don’t try to sell yourself or be pressuring. Just get to know her for her, not for her baby. If you happen to have the exact same tastes and views as she does, great. But don’t pretend you do to try to get her to like you. Be yourselves.

-For the love of all that is good and decent, don’t refer to her pregnancy as “unwanted.” Unplanned does not mean unwanted. Don’t ever lose sight of the fact that birth moms choose adoption out of love, not because they don’t want their babies.

-Pray every night for your birth mother, whether you’ve met her yet or not. Pray before you meet with a potential birth mom. Follow the Spirit. Don’t let your desire to be parents override your feelings. If a situation isn’t right, you’ll know. Remember, you’re not just looking for A baby, you’re looking for YOUR baby.

-Don’t take it personally if you meet with a potential birth mother – even if you meet more than once, and e-mail and talk – and she doesn’t choose you. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you or that you’ve done anything wrong. The couples I met with but didn’t choose couldn’t have made a better impression on me. They just weren’t my baby’s family.

For Blogs and/or Profiles
-Proofread, please. You don’t have to be the world’s best writers or even have a knack for spelling. But when you’ve typed “ans” instead of “and” and not fixed it, it just looks lazy. Not every birth mom is going to be as picky as I was, but the first thing I noticed about P and M’s profile (after their picture) is that it didn’t contain any glaring errors. I appreciated that.

-If you’ve adopted before, mention what things are like with that birth mom – how open is the adoption? If you’ve got pictures of her with your child, that’s awesome. Post them! Birth moms want to know that they won’t be dumped after placement.

-Speaking of pictures, please please please have some nice ones taken for your profile. They don’t have to be glamour shots, and you don’t need to be Photoshopped, but do try to look your best. Be yourself and have fun in your pictures, but birth moms don’t want to see your his-and-hers “white trash” Halloween costumes.

-Do you enjoy hunting and fishing? Good for you, and go ahead and mention it. Maybe your birth mom does, too. But maybe she doesn’t. And she might find your blog a bit off-putting if it contains multiple pictures of bloody, entrail-strewn deer carcasses or slimy large-mouth bass. I’m going to put high-risk activities in this category, too. If you enjoy 4-wheeling, that’s fine. But please don’t post pictures of the gory flesh wound on your back from the last time you crashed. A birth mom wants to feel that her baby will be safe and protected, and that the baby’s parents will live long lives, unmarred by any sort of horrible accident or disfigurement.

-If you waited several years after marriage before trying to conceive, keep it to yourself. I’m REALLY not proud of this, but there are a few profiles that mentioned that and my knee-jerk reaction was, “Well, you should have considered your fertility ten years ago when you were young and ‘enjoying it just being the two of us’ and travelling the world and building up your careers!” Whether you did or not is your business, and it’s not my place to judge (although obviously that didn’t stop me). But you might want to keep it to yourself.

-Blog! Update at least monthly, too. If you haven’t updated in 10 months, a birth mom might wonder if you’re no longer hoping to adopt, or if you’ve dropped off the face of the earth. You might feel like you have nothing to say. Make something up. Are you wondering how “Lost” is going to end? What did you think of the latest Twilight movie? Blog about it. A blog is a great chance to really be yourselves and show potential birth moms what your lives are like and what great parents you would be.

And Finally …
Try to anticipate what kinds of questions a birth mom might ask. What would you want to know about a couple if you were in her place? Here’s a messy, random list of some things you might want to mention.

-Will she be a stay-at-home-mom?
-Do you have any family traditions you hope to carry on?
-Do you have a nursery set up (are you ready, right now, for a baby)?
-Do you have any pets?
-Any plans to move in the next 10 years?
-Do you attend the temple regularly? What are your church callings? Do you have Family Home Evening every Monday night?
-Do you have immediate and/or extended family living in the area? (Roo has tons of family nearby, and I love it.)
-Besides infertility, have you overcome any other hardships/adversity? What did it/they teach you?
-Do you have any experience with adoption? Do you know anyone who has adopted, or anyone who was adopted?
-What would adopting a child mean to you? You can’t oversell how precious a child would be, although you'll want to avoid sounding desperate, as though your lives are empty and worthless because you aren't parents yet.

Overall, be yourselves. You don't have to be perfect, and you don't have to take any of the advice I've given. Odds are, your child's birth mother will love you anyway, warts and all.

April 2009, Part Two – “H” bomb

My baby was the size of a butternut squash, and she was kicking like mad. I passed the time working on a pregnancy scrapbook. But I was still bored and irritable. I was sleeping poorly, owing to the early morning aerobics in my womb.

Then I heard from H. He asked about my blood glucose test. I told him I’d tested one point higher than they usually like. He asked about insulin and diet. I explained that I had discussed things with my doctor and she wasn’t the least bit worried about my blood sugar – both me and my baby were healthy and happy, my weight gain was on track, and I was measuring right on for my due date.

I thought that would be the end of it, but H took exception to my doctor’s trained medical opinion. Here’s our IM conversation:

(I've left H unedited)

[H’s screen name]: Don't know what else to say to the comment, if you think that's best it's your business but seeing things like 'I went shopping and all I have is liciroce' and knowing those results just ... seems weird
jilleb163: what do you mean?
[H’s screen name]: Your not concerned about being that close, or at least concerned enough that maybe you'd cut out some sugar? That's all i'm asking. But i'm sure your going to call me an [expletive deleted] for asking, so I don't know why I am
jilleb163: my diet really isn't any of your freaking business.
(like I said, I was irritable)
[H’s screen name]: Yup, good to see we could have a mature conversation about this
jilleb163: i mention licorice once and you think i'm not eating properly ... just sort of irritating.
jilleb163: my doctor - a trained, medical professional, who has known me my entire pregnancy - isn't worried about my blood sugar.
[H’s screen name]: burger king for dinner three nights a week, and everytime we talk it's 'candy store'.

For the record, I’d been to the candy store, like, twice. And who was he to criticize my diet? This from a man who considered bacon and beer to be two of the main food groups! I was eating enough fruit and vegetables that I knew the guys who stocked Safeway’s produce department by name. If I wanted a little candy or a hamburger, I was going to eat it. I was livid. If this was H’s idea of caring, I’d been lucky he hadn’t cared so far.

Things got worse a few days later. H sent me e-mail, which I have again left unedited for your reading pleasure. Here’s the gist of it (my reactions are in italics):

“I want a decision on what you are doing with the baby as soon as possible, preferably within 48 hours. I understand it’s a hard decision, but you have had plenty of time to think about it now. You know what your options are, you have been talking to an agency (which you lied to me about and told me it was a support group) [Um, actually, it was a support group] and you know your options with them. On my side, I did not file the paperwork because when I asked you about it, you said you wanted to keep her, or at least that was my perception of what you were saying.

Now, it’s ‘I am leaning’. Or ‘I told you I was leaning than’. Fine, I misinterpreted, but I felt when we were making discussions on materials we would need or me asking how we can setup shared custody, that that meant you were keeping her. [And I thought we were discussing hypotheticals, since I used the word "hypothetically" and all.] I don’t want to hear bout leaning anymore. Decisions need to be made.

If it helps make it easier for you, if you keep her I will be filing a custody (parenting) plan and a request for shared custody. This will be used in determining support payments from one party to the other [not from him to me, but from one “party” to another], as well as set specific amounts of time we will be sharing her. [What is she, a condo in the Hamptons?] And I will be insisting this go into effect as soon as possible. I will not just start having a relationship after 6 months because you don’t want me involved at first … I don’t have any rights in the event your giving her up for adoption, but I do have rights once she’s born and if you make the decision to keep her."

In retrospect, I can sort of get where he was coming from. But only in retrospect. And just reading through that stupid e-mail makes my blood boil. How dare he demand a decision in such a cavalier, arrogant manner?

I didn’t know what else to do, so I sent S an SOS. We’d had a bit of a to-do when I tried explaining how depression makes it hard for me to trust people and she didn’t quite get is. But I needed her now. She’d told my mom that H had lost all his rights when he ignored his paperwork. I wanted to make sure of that. Who, I wondered, would be crazy enough to try to split custody of a newborn baby?

I was terribly upset, but my baby gave me a few reassuring kicks and I felt a bit better. For a few hours, anyway. Then I got another surprise in my inbox.

I'm Going to Get Up

I just discovered this song, and I love it. Because I feel like I keep falling, and falling. And it helps to remember that it's okay to fall, as long as I get up again.

I'm going to get up.