Grown in My Heart gave out this prompt a couple of weeks ago, and I’m tackling it somewhat belatedly. That original post is here. So…here’s what no one told me about adoption.
- No one told me that giving birth was going to flip a switch inside me and then snap it off; It’s baby time, nownownow, and the litany keeps playing in my head. Fortunately I am able to plan on a child in a couple of years, but I’m stuck with this hormonal siren song until then.
- Toward the end of my pregnancy, I did have some moments of feeling like a heifer at the state fair. I’m terribly wide-hipped, so I never stuck out so far as many gals do–so Ruth and Nora (and their families) seemed concerned, and made a couple of casual (strained) comments about that fact. There was no ill-will behind it, but it did leave nasty “incubator” echoes in my head for awhile. I hadn’t realized that I’d be seen that way. Similarly, although I cut out caffeine for the first two trimesters of the pregnancy, I did have the occasional cup of coffee or diet Coke after that, and Ruth and Nora commented on and seemed nervous about that. I mentioned that it’s a miscarriage risk, but at I was less worried about that after seven months, and they seemed slightly less worried.
- That I would dread every visit, and feel awful afterward. We’ve only had three, so hopefully this will pass, but it took me completely by surprise. I wonder whether Ruth or Nora feels anything like this?
- That seeing other people suggest adoption in different situations would make me nervous. I am definitely not anti-adoption, but to hear people talk about it as though it’s as emotionally complicated as getting a Coke from a vending machine makes me really uncomfortable. And yet I don’t want to be That Girl, jumping into these conversations to shrill that “It’s not that simple!”
- That I’d be desperate to hear other birthmothers talk about their experiences.
That’s all I can think of right now.
Mr. Book is exciting about the coming of October, as he plans to spend the whole month watching horror movies. I am going to surprise him this weekend with pumpkin sandwich cookes that have cinnamon buttercream in the middle–I’m making this up, a bit, so wish me luck. The peanut butter cookies are fantastic, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s lukewarm at best on peanut butter cookies. I had hoped that that was just because he hadn’t had great ones, but nope. I will have to make them for my father, who loves peanut butter treats, when I go to their house for Thanksgiving.