Hanging In

The other night, I went to an agency-sponsored birthmother gathering. It was . . . interesting. There were goofy, kindergarten-style crafts—we decorated cans—and then one woman made something genuinely lovely, made me feel a little bad about my inner snarkiness. I went to see whether I might meet interesting people and to show the agency that I’m clean and friendly and potentially useful. I met one really lovely woman who surrendered her son a couple of decades ago (the one with the excellent crafting skills, coincidentally). Aside from her, I was the person with the oldest placed child, which is really not what I expected. There were five birthmothers and three counselors present, and it was friendly but slightly awkward. The agency also runs a retreat for birthmothers, which I am apparently welcome to attend, and which will take place in town this May. I can’t really make up my mind whether to go—I guess I’ve got some time.

I finally picked out an outfit for the possible visit this weekend; my only concern is that, while cute, it could also be a stealth maternity outfit. It isn’t! But since they heard better than a year ago that we were thinking about kids in a couple/few years, I wonder whether they’ll be watching t see whether I become pregnant. Mr. Book should find out tomorrow morning whether we can go, and if we can, I’ll get a haircut and start cooking. Ruth suggested that we could both make part of lunch, which is what she suggested last time—I made a full lunch, it turned out that she hadn’t really had time to make anything, and we just ate what I brought—so I’m making plenty of food and assuming that that’s what we’ll have. If you wondered: tofu spring rolls with peanut dipping sauce; cucumber salad; stir-fried bean thread noodles with bok choy; frushi. I also got the dump truck yesterday, which I am girlishly excited about; it looks and smells nice.

I haven’t said this in awhile, but I really want to thank everyone who reads the blog, especially if you’ve ever emailed me or left a comment. I never expected to have any readers—I just wanted a place to talk about what was happening without worrying about having to spin it. The feedback I get is incredibly valuable, and I feel exceedingly fortunate.