Sometimes I wish I was pregnant. Not because I want anyone other than LO - I don't, he is the most precious person to us already. Not because I envy my pregnant friends the wonders and magic of pregnancy - I made my peace with that a long time ago. But because right now I'd be eight months pregnant and I think people would treat me differently.
I know that there can be some shocking oversights in day-to-day life; people not giving up their seat to a pregnant woman, for instance. But on the whole I know that pregnant women are treated with a kind of reverence. They are allowed outbursts of emotion. They are expected to be tired and overwhelmed at times. They are asked tenderly how they are feeling, sometimes by complete strangers. Others get caught up in the magnificent energy they exude and smile at them, say 'not long to go now!' (I witnessed this whilst away with my friend a few months ago, everyone we met whilst walking the dog smiled and spoke to her about her big bump.) They leave work amidst a flurry of cards and presents. They have blessingways or baby showers during which friends and family toast the good news and offer advice and gifts.
I know this attention might be unwanted at times, and I'm sure there are moments when every pregnant woman wishes she wasn't carrying around a big sign saying 'I'm about to have a baby! Talk to me about it!'. But there's something about being an adoptive mum that makes you feel a bit...well, invisible. You don't want to tell lots of people in case it falls through at the last minute. You're expected to carry on as normal until you meet your future child. Outbursts of emotion and general exhaustion are seen perhaps as moodiness, irritability, and at worst, irrational. In some cases, people are embarrassed by adoption - the elephant in the room being why you've chosen that route - and they avoid talking about it altogether. Others are furiously opinionated about adoption today, about the prospects for children whose early life is blighted by difficulty. Finally, there are those who ask impossibly impertinent questions about the birth family, without seeming to think how it might feel to answer those questions. The birth family is an endless curiosity box, pored over by people intent on sharing their opinions (I have refused to answer questions on this subject, other than the bare neccessities). I have been told many times, by people who have never been through it, how incredibly difficult, time-consuming and invasive the adoption process is - rarely have I been asked what it is really like (not that bad, actually, until the last chapter).
Sometimes, I would like someone to smile at me, say 'congratulations! Not long to go now! You look amazing! Radiant! Sit down and have a cup of tea, let me help you with your bags...here, have a tissue, it's perfectly normal to have a cry.'
Now, wouldn't that be magic?
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Friday, 24 August 2012
Saturday, 16 June 2012
The top ten things I can do because I'm not pregnant!
Over the years of trying to conceive, and then choosing adoption, it is easy to focus on the negatives. In fact, our SW asked us the other day 'where we were on not having our own kids'. Not an easy question to answer, but interestingly, we'd just come back from a happy and relaxed week away with my pregnant friend and felt pretty chilled about the whole thing. I've spent most of my working life either researching pregnancy and birth, or supporting pregnant and birthing women and new mums. It's not without a sense of irony that I glance up at bookshelves heaving with books on natural birth and breastfeeding (though I've now, with a sense of release, donated these to my pregnant friend). However, adoption it is, so I see no point in dwelling on what might have been. This morning at my yoga class, I was suddenly struck by all the things I could do that pregnant women can't, such as:
1). Get really physically fit for motherhood. No struggling with a post-birth body that's stretched and torn and tired, and with leaky and aching breasts. In fact, I can enjoy my runs and bend in all sorts of complicated poses in yoga with a sense of freedom.
2). Share feeds with my husband. We've discussed shifts in the night, and taking it in turns throughout the day. Whilst breastfeeding is something I am passionate about, I can still see the benefits of not having to deal with sore and swollen breasts, constant feeding, mastitis, cracked nipples, or feeling like a milk machine. This is purely selfish as I know that breast milk is the best food for babies, but hey, today I'm looking at the positives!
3). Be able to travel where I want, when I want. Not that I'm thinking of jetting off to Barbados (but can I, Mr Bank Manager, please?!) but the fact I can if I want to, right up to until the 'due date' feels good.
4). Eat whatever I want. Soft cheeses and sushi anyone?
5). Not be beholden to the swing and sway of my hormones. As women, we are biologically programmed to release certain hormones at certain points in our lives, and new motherhood is when we are awash with them to help us bond, feed and connect with our babies. So I'm hoping that those good hormones will kick in (I've read that they're released simply by being around a baby) but of course I won't be entirely governed by them in the run up, fractious, tearful and unable to think clearly.
6). I can work however and whenever I like. I work from home so my hours are flexible anyway, but the fact I'm not sitting at my desk with fluid retention and an aching back is surely a bonus.
7). No physical pregnancy strain. Old back problems not triggered by carrying a bump around. No fluid retention, morning sickness, back ache, pelvic pain, urinary problems, aching joints, stretch marks etc. etc. Of course, I know not every pregnant woman suffers from these things but through my work, I've seen quite a few who do!
8). Sleep as much as I possibly can right up until the 'due date'. No tossing and turning trying to get comfortable or getting up 100 times in the night to have a wee. No night-time frets about the birth.
9). Though I was actually looking forward to giving birth, for the sake of my new perspective, I'll add in that I don't have to make birth plans, worry that caregivers won't stick to them, worry that some unforeseen circumstances will unravel everything I'd hoped for, or fret about medical complications. I believe in healthy birth but you know, at least I don't have to worry that I'd have to eat my words and the last decade of saying that!
10). Celebrate our panel day and other summer festivities with a few drinks. Not that I'm much of a drinker, but I can if I want to! So I might plan a night out with friends after panel and get a bit tiddly just because, well, I can!
So there are my top ten reasons why I'm pleased to be adopting and not pregnant right now - the silver lining to our situation...
1). Get really physically fit for motherhood. No struggling with a post-birth body that's stretched and torn and tired, and with leaky and aching breasts. In fact, I can enjoy my runs and bend in all sorts of complicated poses in yoga with a sense of freedom.
2). Share feeds with my husband. We've discussed shifts in the night, and taking it in turns throughout the day. Whilst breastfeeding is something I am passionate about, I can still see the benefits of not having to deal with sore and swollen breasts, constant feeding, mastitis, cracked nipples, or feeling like a milk machine. This is purely selfish as I know that breast milk is the best food for babies, but hey, today I'm looking at the positives!
3). Be able to travel where I want, when I want. Not that I'm thinking of jetting off to Barbados (but can I, Mr Bank Manager, please?!) but the fact I can if I want to, right up to until the 'due date' feels good.
4). Eat whatever I want. Soft cheeses and sushi anyone?
5). Not be beholden to the swing and sway of my hormones. As women, we are biologically programmed to release certain hormones at certain points in our lives, and new motherhood is when we are awash with them to help us bond, feed and connect with our babies. So I'm hoping that those good hormones will kick in (I've read that they're released simply by being around a baby) but of course I won't be entirely governed by them in the run up, fractious, tearful and unable to think clearly.
6). I can work however and whenever I like. I work from home so my hours are flexible anyway, but the fact I'm not sitting at my desk with fluid retention and an aching back is surely a bonus.
7). No physical pregnancy strain. Old back problems not triggered by carrying a bump around. No fluid retention, morning sickness, back ache, pelvic pain, urinary problems, aching joints, stretch marks etc. etc. Of course, I know not every pregnant woman suffers from these things but through my work, I've seen quite a few who do!
8). Sleep as much as I possibly can right up until the 'due date'. No tossing and turning trying to get comfortable or getting up 100 times in the night to have a wee. No night-time frets about the birth.
9). Though I was actually looking forward to giving birth, for the sake of my new perspective, I'll add in that I don't have to make birth plans, worry that caregivers won't stick to them, worry that some unforeseen circumstances will unravel everything I'd hoped for, or fret about medical complications. I believe in healthy birth but you know, at least I don't have to worry that I'd have to eat my words and the last decade of saying that!
10). Celebrate our panel day and other summer festivities with a few drinks. Not that I'm much of a drinker, but I can if I want to! So I might plan a night out with friends after panel and get a bit tiddly just because, well, I can!
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Support
I spoke to one of closest friends this morning, just back from running a hostel in Ethiopia. She's seven months pregnant with her first child. She's also, as I've mentioned in previous posts, adopted herself. The news of her pregnancy broke just as things were really starting to move with our adoption, in one of life's extraordinary synchronicities. We were laughing this morning that we just couldn't have dreamt it up - her pregnancy being something of a surprise. Life is what happens when you're busy looking the other way! It seems that we'll be mothers around the same time. With all my years of supporting pregnant and birthing women, I hope I'll be a source of support to her. With her personal experiences of being adopted, she's already provided me with some real insights into what being adopted means throughout life. As I mentioned before, I got a bit of panic on after I'd expressed my joy and excitement at her pregnancy news back in February, and wondered how it would feel to be going through home study etc. whilst she prepared for her impending arrival. Miraculously, our adoption speeded up around then, and it looks as if our motherhood experiences will run in parallel, though of course our children will be different ages. I have long wanted her to be godmother to our child, because of her understanding of adoption, and I hope our children will be friends for life.
Running alongside our adoption process, there have been many synchronicities like this. I have been supporting an overseas friend via email with her adoptive daughter's transition into teens, discussing and musing with her the meaning of identity and birth family. Her daughter is raging and wild, angry and sad, but there are also moments of connection and beauty in the midst of it all. I have felt honoured to share their experience, and it has been SUCH an eye-opener for me! Talking to my pregnant friend's adoptive mum has also revealed so much, mostly on that count about deep, abiding, maternal love. Both R and I feel blessed to have friends in our lives who really know what adoption means, from both parent and child perspective.
My mum and dad and R's mum both attended a friends and family day, organised by our Local Authority. I felt nervous about them coming all this way, and how they might feel about it all. But it proved to be an amazing opportunity for them, to meet other adoptive grandparents, to ask questions, to really think through what it might mean to be adopted. I feel so lucky to have an LA that puts a focus on this, the support aspect, of adoption. We went for lunch at R's mum's last Sunday, and my mum and dad came too. All were delighted and excited about this next chapter, and I feel that's thanks to the workshop.
Running alongside our adoption process, there have been many synchronicities like this. I have been supporting an overseas friend via email with her adoptive daughter's transition into teens, discussing and musing with her the meaning of identity and birth family. Her daughter is raging and wild, angry and sad, but there are also moments of connection and beauty in the midst of it all. I have felt honoured to share their experience, and it has been SUCH an eye-opener for me! Talking to my pregnant friend's adoptive mum has also revealed so much, mostly on that count about deep, abiding, maternal love. Both R and I feel blessed to have friends in our lives who really know what adoption means, from both parent and child perspective.
My mum and dad and R's mum both attended a friends and family day, organised by our Local Authority. I felt nervous about them coming all this way, and how they might feel about it all. But it proved to be an amazing opportunity for them, to meet other adoptive grandparents, to ask questions, to really think through what it might mean to be adopted. I feel so lucky to have an LA that puts a focus on this, the support aspect, of adoption. We went for lunch at R's mum's last Sunday, and my mum and dad came too. All were delighted and excited about this next chapter, and I feel that's thanks to the workshop.
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
We had our first adoption workshops last week, on Monday and Tuesday. Alongside eight other couples, we learnt about the kind of kids that need adopting, listened to some shocking case studies and found out ways in which we can parent children who have been through more in their short time here than most of us will go through in a lifetime. It was certainly food for thought.
Interestingly, half the couples already had children and two of those had chosen adoption for truly altruistic reasons. The rest of us had tried, and failed, to make biological families and were trying our luck with a different approach. There were some interesting people there - some I know will remain firm friends as our children grow, and some I felt we were singing from different parenting songsheets. My parenting choices and interest has always been in attachment parenting and I have reams of literature on the subject and have written about it for years. It's a whole new thing thinking about the different challenges adopted children face - the level of loss and trauma they have experienced - and how to parent them with love and consciousness through that. Sometimes it feels like it'll be a superhuman achievement and sometimes I think that staying present, staying aware and loving will guide us all along. A social worker said somewhere near the beginning of our process 'choose your battles wisely' and it seems to ring so true. When I imagine the scenarios we might be faced with as parents, I keep thinking of not sweating the small stuff and finding ways for our future kids to express the big stuff.
Both R and I had been slightly dreading the workshops. We'd been told that they would be hard work and harrowing, and whilst they certainly didn't hold back any punches in terms of the realities of these children's lives, both days left us feeling inspired and uplifted. It further cemented that this is something we want to do, even need to do. We've discussed several times what would happen if I got pregnant suddenly now. We'd be overjoyed, yes, but part of me feels we've embarked on this for a reason. Another part of me already feels like I'd be letting down a child whose life we have the opportunity to change. I keep thinking of 'parenting the child who hurts' as they call it, and my heart bursts with love...I feel overwhelmed with how much I want to hold this child who might already be in existance somewhere. It's almost impossible to explain, so I'll leave it at that.
It seems it might all happen much sooner than the doom merchants have lead us to believe (everyone, from co-workers to friends - even if they know nothing about adoption whatsoever - has felt the need to say to us 'well, it'll be a long, hard haul. It'll take ages' when we've told them of our adoption plan). The social worker believes we might go to panel by the summer holidays. This is crazily, almost unbelievably exciting...we might be parents at Christmas.
Yesterday, I learnt that one of my closest friends is pregnant, a complete surprise. I was bowled over when I read her email (she's overseas at the moment), crying tears of joy and shock and delight. She will be the best mother in the world, I genuinely don't know anyone who operates so fully from the heart. I felt almost as if I was pregnant, that's how close we are, and I know we will share the journey together. After I'd emailed her my happy response, I had some time to reflect last night. Will it be strange her going through pregnancy and me going through home study simultaneously? Will I find it difficult to cope emotionally? I'd offered my support and love to her wholeheartedly - and at the time I truly felt I was able to give that - but last night I retreated back into my snail shell a little and wondered about how it might all feel. Well, I guess we will find out! And there's no escaping the reality of it, so I will have to take great care to listen to my heart and allow myself time out if it becomes too much. Noone deserves the joy of parenthood more than my friend does, and there's a joy in the fact that we'll be parenting alongside one another - different situations, but ultimately the same goal, to mother with love and conscience.
Interestingly, half the couples already had children and two of those had chosen adoption for truly altruistic reasons. The rest of us had tried, and failed, to make biological families and were trying our luck with a different approach. There were some interesting people there - some I know will remain firm friends as our children grow, and some I felt we were singing from different parenting songsheets. My parenting choices and interest has always been in attachment parenting and I have reams of literature on the subject and have written about it for years. It's a whole new thing thinking about the different challenges adopted children face - the level of loss and trauma they have experienced - and how to parent them with love and consciousness through that. Sometimes it feels like it'll be a superhuman achievement and sometimes I think that staying present, staying aware and loving will guide us all along. A social worker said somewhere near the beginning of our process 'choose your battles wisely' and it seems to ring so true. When I imagine the scenarios we might be faced with as parents, I keep thinking of not sweating the small stuff and finding ways for our future kids to express the big stuff.
Both R and I had been slightly dreading the workshops. We'd been told that they would be hard work and harrowing, and whilst they certainly didn't hold back any punches in terms of the realities of these children's lives, both days left us feeling inspired and uplifted. It further cemented that this is something we want to do, even need to do. We've discussed several times what would happen if I got pregnant suddenly now. We'd be overjoyed, yes, but part of me feels we've embarked on this for a reason. Another part of me already feels like I'd be letting down a child whose life we have the opportunity to change. I keep thinking of 'parenting the child who hurts' as they call it, and my heart bursts with love...I feel overwhelmed with how much I want to hold this child who might already be in existance somewhere. It's almost impossible to explain, so I'll leave it at that.
It seems it might all happen much sooner than the doom merchants have lead us to believe (everyone, from co-workers to friends - even if they know nothing about adoption whatsoever - has felt the need to say to us 'well, it'll be a long, hard haul. It'll take ages' when we've told them of our adoption plan). The social worker believes we might go to panel by the summer holidays. This is crazily, almost unbelievably exciting...we might be parents at Christmas.
Yesterday, I learnt that one of my closest friends is pregnant, a complete surprise. I was bowled over when I read her email (she's overseas at the moment), crying tears of joy and shock and delight. She will be the best mother in the world, I genuinely don't know anyone who operates so fully from the heart. I felt almost as if I was pregnant, that's how close we are, and I know we will share the journey together. After I'd emailed her my happy response, I had some time to reflect last night. Will it be strange her going through pregnancy and me going through home study simultaneously? Will I find it difficult to cope emotionally? I'd offered my support and love to her wholeheartedly - and at the time I truly felt I was able to give that - but last night I retreated back into my snail shell a little and wondered about how it might all feel. Well, I guess we will find out! And there's no escaping the reality of it, so I will have to take great care to listen to my heart and allow myself time out if it becomes too much. Noone deserves the joy of parenthood more than my friend does, and there's a joy in the fact that we'll be parenting alongside one another - different situations, but ultimately the same goal, to mother with love and conscience.
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