and this is why we don't talk about it

Disrupted adoption. It's a terrible thing, and more people have gone through it than you think. It's a death in the family, at your own hand. It's a Sophie's Choice, and nobody sees the war going on. I still can barely express the toll it has taken on me and my family, over a year later. And I understand how others simply cannot understand it. I really do.

There are so many minefields in parenting. Some are inherent in the business of parenting, and some are laid by other parents. I got to sidestep the whole breastfeeding vs. formula debate by adopting and having all of 2 days to prepare for newborn twins. Formula! Done! Vaccinations? Sidestepped -- while my kids were in foster status, the state chose for me.

Life doesn't give freebies. What I gained by having happy, healthy eaters that didn't mind being buckled in to carseats or going along wherever I did, was totally outweighed by a system that claimed to have the best interest of children at heart, and then systemically let one down every step of the way.

I read Anita Tedaldi's story with great interest. Where others are slamming her for being disassociated from her feelings, I know that you.cannot.handle.the.truth. Yes, you. It's easier to pick apart her word choice or label her as being racially privileged than to comprehend what it must be like to open yourself to taking in a child that you cherish before s/he is even in your home, only to have it all go terribly wrong. This happens more than people know, and not from any fault of the children (god, no!) or the parents involved. I was jealous that Anita had a social worker HOLDING HER HAND and supporting her, where ours just tsked and told us "parenting is hard."

You want to know why I don't give you all the gory details? Read the comments here:
http://www.racialicious.com/2009/10/15/anita-tedaldi-and-guilt-privilege/. I've been kicked enough, both by myself, the system, and so-called "friends." I give Anita props for coming forward and opening the door to a truly dark, grisly world. Call her names if you need to, but look a little deeper. There's more there.

cautiously optimistic

Funny that I'd write this as my surroundings are both under attack by rainfall and earthquakes, but I'm kinda good. Guilty for even writing it, and so way still haunted, but let's just say I'm better.

I'm not sure how it all happened, given The Curse of 2008 and all that legal debt, but somehow we played the economy and had a little crazy streak of luck and bought our first house. In a new town, without all the tragic memories. (Which is also tragic in its own way.)

Planning and executing the move and coordinating new house prep has given me and Spoose a new project that isn't about blame or sadness. The twins are 3.5 years and are stepping up to having their own rooms and being in a new space. It's smaller, but that's good for family intimacy and bonding. And we're doing a lot of just that.

I'm starting to unfurl, slowly, creakily and oh so cautiously. I find hope in the fact that I can unfurl without punishment. I am grateful. Haunted, daunted, but grateful.