Emma-Bug

Damn That's Sexy!

So we've all read RQ lately right? Dudes I almost fell out of my chair, finally something logical.

If the orphanage directors were frightened to send paperwork because they feared prosecution after the wake of the Hanan situation, this would explain the "not enough paper-ready babies" scenario.

That line never jived with me. While I knew China was making great strides in moving forward both as an economic powerhouse and as a more human friendly country - I didn't really buy it was that quick of a turn around. Especially given the methodology that's been prevalent in their culture for decades. And while I had no doubts dossier numbers had increased, it didn't take much research to discover the sheer numbers of referrals had declined over the past year.

So this? Dudes this makes sense.

I'm not saying it helps with the waiting and the waiting, and then the waiting some more, but at least there's a logical reason as to "why?"

Now, Mr. CCAA Director give your peeps a warm fuzzy and let's get on with business shall we?

I Whine and Use Poor Grammar, Therefore I Am

Ok, I agree I've been missing in action. And yes, it would in fact appear that when I actually do get around to posting I speak only in really, really long run-on sentences, or more aptly put run-on sentence (singular). I'm committing drive-by posting.

Ha! Take THAT Reader - poor spelling and grammar! I defy you to shake it off.

I have no excuse, well you know? Other than life and it's intricate web of bullshit and illusion. I know, I know that is no excuse and humbly bow my head before you and ask for foregivness.

Not much happening on the adoption front, in other words umm - there's not much happening on the adoption front. Last I checked still no babe in the crib, although I was running a little late this morning and didn't check. We have still not bought bottles, which I think is kind of interesting. Clothes? Enough through 2T, all seasons, I've been a shopping machine when it comes to hip and funky. Blankies - check - although I understand burping cloths have a purpose and I have yet to invest in these. I think it's because they don't come with little flames or skulls or a Converse logo or something. Am uninspired by duckies. And, I must admit, still I am unsure if the burping/not burping a child whom would be a year old or so is a necessitated procedure? Interestingly this rather practical advice is not in any of the "Mommy" books and that pretty much makes my ass twitch and question "what the hell am I reading this shit for?" Anyhoo, the bottles, the selection is just too grand for me. Is this really necessary? To have 600 different types of bottles? I'm leaving it to Mark, that way if he makes the wrong selection I can hold it over his head in a country half way around the world where he will have limited recourse. It's just how I roll.

Moving on.

You know what I'm having difficulty with? Not so much the time thus far waiting impatiently, it's the looking ahead part that's weighing heavily. I realize the prudent thing to do in this circumstance would be to just simply not look ahead and to be honest I have no reasonable response to that. Sure, it's the prudent thing to do - but you must ask yourself, when have I ever been prudent?

Ok really, now we're moving on.

I'm going to update my books in the sidebar. I finished "Xinran: Sky Burial" and "Wild Swans" and both were fantastic. I also finished "The Mommy Myth" but I'm going to keep it up there because I think every woman on the face of the planet should read it. If you haven't read it, GO NOW - MUST READ!

No, I haven't finished "Mao". I will, but Good Lord that is one heavy ass, laden in minutia book. I'm a biography reader and Yikes! There's no way to breeze through this. And just in case there were any questions on this - not a "feel good'er". Incredibly depressing and leaves me with the question, "Why does Mike Tyson have a picture of Mao tattooed on his arm? And more importantly, WTF?"

Oh and this is hyper cool, I've finally started making my announcements. They're mixed-media and very non-mainstream and awesomely cool and artsy and no two are the same and I'm hyper stoked. Pictures coming soon to a blog near you.

That ahhh, yeah that kinda sucks for me - great for them! Really Happy For Them, not so much me.

So many of the women who's blogs I used to read during my fun-filled infertility, my body is a broken-ass Jalopy, endo-(there's an alien inside me)-from-hell days have conceived and now given birth while I continue to pick my nose and drool in the corner.

Just an observation.

I want to play in all the reindeer games

From this point forward I am no longer 9 months, 18 days past LID (today's current count).

I am 9m18dp.

Duh! Gah! Blah!

The following is proof that I am indeed the worst friend ever. Heed it's warning young friends, there is a lesson to be learned.

Three or four weeks ago

[although to be honest it could have been earlier this morning, time no longer has meaning in adoption-world]

I was blog surfing and came across a very sweet woman who was holding a fundraiser for her adoption. She was making the most adorable little travel blankets that origami into a little sausage roll with handles, perfect for the plane and covering a wee one during chilly flights. So of course I ordered one, in a ladybug print (shut up it's cute) and then promptly sort of forgot about it.

About a week or so later,

[could have been a month, please refer to above]

after the mushroom cloud of the March referrals had begun to dissipate and just at the start of Phase Bitter - The Bummering, I noticed a box sitting on my front porch and I think to myself "Yeah, yeah little origami sausage roll blanket, big deal. Never going to travel. Fucking CCAA. Why don't we just rub it in a little more that I HAVE NO BABY" and promptly tossed the box in Em's room and closed the door.

[for those of you playing along with the Home Edition, this would be a pivotal plot point]

Well last night after I spewed that last Post

[and sorry you had to read the emotional ramblings of psycho-adoption-chick]

I went to check the mail and sitting on my porch is a box which I assume is my gloss.com order (Sephora's for novices People) so I rip it open and there, in all it's garish ladybug glory is my origami sausage roll blanket with handles. 

[?]

So I trudge myself up to the nursery and look at the box sitting in Em's crib and I'm not kidding, I just sort of stared at it as if it could cause potential harm for a solid 2 minutes

[Let's not forget I'm psycho-adoption-chick with the memory of a gnat and the brain synopsis's of a sloth]

and I think to myself "yes, this does in fact appear to be a brown box. It seems to be square, perhaps made of cardboard. Why I am up here again? Oh yeah, yeah, yeah..."

So I proceed to rip open the box and ummm, it's this! From Ali and her mom and I am a complete and utter ass for just leaving that box in Em's room and OH MY GOD I feel like such a loser. This incredibly generous and thoughtful gift and it was just sitting there because psycho-adoption-chick is a dumbass.

Isn't it wonderful? And it's black and there's a Buddha! And Ali's mom embroidered my daughters name on the blanket - in red - and oh man the sobbing. Not just little tears, but great big monster tears complete with shoulders shaking and that quivering breath thing that happens because you cry really, really hard?

Yeah, I think I might have gotten snot on it! Isn't it great!

So if you're a believer in the "everything happens for a reason" school-of-thought, this would be a prime example. At the bleakest point in this journey thus far, when I was wallowing in self pity, a friend reached out to me from a box with a mistaken identity, and it made all the difference. I can't tell you how stunned and appreciative I am over this gesture. I'm speechless.

[In a Stephanie's speechless sort of way, which is not so much speechless but gooey and sappy]

Thank you Ali!

So This Is What Hell's Like

I'm a soul-sucking zombie these days. I walk into a room and oxygen ceases to exist. Just by my general presence I can lay a blanket of malaise over everyone within a 100-mile radius. If you're bummed, it's because of me.

I think a corner was turned after last month's pathetic showing of a referral period, then seeing everyone else’s pain compounded it. There's a lot of pain out there y'all. Mix in uncertainty and a general feeling that shit's unraveling and you got yourself a hearty depression stew.

[Mmmmm.]

I've also reached my limit with the selfish, self-absorbed know-it-alls. The "this shouldn't be a surprise", "of course it can happen" dickheads, who inevitably have their baby resting comfortably at home, who feel it necessary to get all uppity over any questioning or expression of emotion such as frustration. You know who these people are? They're the gunners from high school, they're the jerks at the office that nod their heads when the boss is speaking, they're pathetic and I've had it with them. I wasn't aware of it, but compassion is apparently a learned trait that somehow escaped them during the long, school-as-career adulthood they exist in. Are we learning anything from them? No? I didn't think so - let's make them go away.

[ok, that may have been a touch hostile]

I also find that lately, can't so much take the rumor talk. The CCAA is 21 days away from my LID and actually if we don’t include weekends, they're 15 days away. Remember when 3 weeks didn't seem all that long of a time? But I'm on CCAA time now and damn it if 21 days could stretch out to another 4 or 5 months. But you know what the really strange part of this is? It's not like I think it's never going to happen, it's just the way I feel and no amount of justification can pull me back from the adoption-sucks-the-life-out-of-me event horizon. I can’t handle another month of getting my hopes up only to have my heart smooshed. I’m a tough broad but dudes, this is like some sort of psychological warfare and I’m officially broken and spouting my social security number.

And I've been wallowing in the "what-ifs" kiddy pool lately. What if there's something wrong with her? What if she wasn't treated well at the orphanage? What if there's a medical problem? What if there's a bonding problem? How long will it take before she looks me in the eye? What if she doesn't? When should I get worried? What if she doesn't want to face me when I hold her? Blah-blah-blah. I don't care how many books you read, or I should say "I read", I'm absolutely terrified. What if I can't handle it? So I ordered more books from Amazon today juuuust to freak my shit a smidge more.

I want these feelings to end so badly, to feel normal again – whatever that might be – whatever that might bring.

So, yeah I think it would be safe to say I'm handling things poorly.

[again]

Damn I'm a good time. Don't you want to be around me? Come on, you know you do.