I got a really great email from Ruth this afternoon; we have a visit scheduled for October 24! OMG less than a month I must plan!! I’m completely delighted that they’re coming right now–I’ll worry later. I just finished hosting my parents here, and it went super well, and everything was great, and I am now totally emboldened. In fact, my parents were the first company we’ve had here. It’s been several months, but I am pretty bad at making friends, especially considering I work from home. =/
In an email to Ruth a week or two ago, I had wondered about what the day I surrendered Cricket was like from her point of view–her reply made me tear up, it’s so sensitive and thoughtful. I was trying very hard on that day to be a badass, to just be super positive and make the event 100% positive for them, because I didn’t want there to be anything interfering with the development of their bond. The day after he was born, Mr. Book and I took him to Ruth and Nora, did a brief entrustment ceremony, and then wanted to go back to our hotel room and fall apart. When we got back to the room, the maids were cleaning it, so we ended up wandering down to a lame little courtyard to wait that happened to have piped-in music. The first song we heard, I swear to God, was that Eric Clapton song about losing his son. We were also treated to “Somewhere Out There,” the song from An American Tail when the young boy mouse is singing about being separated from his family. o.O It was sort of unbelievable, and kind of funny, in a really awful way. It wasn’t until later that night that I really fell apart.
So I watched Juno this weekend! I knew beforehand that I was going to hate it, but Ruth really liked it and thought I should watch it, so I did. I was looking for reasons to hate it, because I’ve heard it talked about as an excellent advertisement for adoption, and I really don’t want it to be that. I read Dan Savage’s book about adopting his son, and I think that’s an excellent advertisement for adoption because it is a very warts-and-all account that also manages to be really positive about the process. Juno is just glib and weird; I told Mr. Book that it’s what Euripides would have written had he been a fifteen-year-old girl. Imagine the characters all wearing masks and speaking without moving their arms and suddenly it’s a bit more tolerable. It’s so glib and hipsterish that it is sometimes almost too hard to figure out what the characters are saying–I’m sure I could manage if I tried, but darn it, I just don’t want to. My most bad thought? I wished that Juno had killed herself at the end, so that the film couldn’t be used for advertising. I am not very nice sometimes.
The strangest part about this blog, maybe, is that Ruth is a nicer person than I’ll ever be able to pass for, and wise, and kind, and many good things; she doesn’t (I’m p. sure) keep a journal like this, it’s only whinging, inconstant me, brooding about the future and telling scary stories about the past–and cute things, and stuff I like, and reasons that this can all work out. I’m not an optimist, but I believe strongly that our open adoption is going to work, because all four of us really are focussed on the good of the kid. But it’s early days yet–stick with me, and we’ll see how it goes.