Archive for the ‘single girl considers adoption’ Category

Join RubyFeather

 

We’ve just created  a social club for baby-makin’ ladies who would like to meet in a positive setting and share stories, encouragement and adventures. We will host monthly socials and  outings in the Boston metro area. We have members from NH, Maine and Mass. All are welcome.

For more information, feel free to email me at shellysugarpie@yahoo.com and be sure to check out the link below for event details:

http://www.meetup.com/RubyFeather-Boston/

New to Boston! RubyFeather hopes to engage and empower women who are experiencing the ups and downs of  adding on to their families. We believe that we are stronger together, than individually. We are here to offer you some good energy, and some girl power. We meet up for coffee-talk, mocktails, mixers and outings. Whether you are single, married, gay, or straight, you are welcome. Whether your journey is through IVF, IUI, adoption, or the traditional method we encourage you to join us. We are not a “group therapy session” but a group of strong ladies who believe laughter and encouragement is the best medicine 

What is RubyFeather?

rubyfeather

We sit across from each other in the waiting room of the Infertility Clinic. Sometimes we are with a partner or a friend. Sometimes we come alone. We see each other at our IVF and IUI orientations – 5 hours of medial info and tears. Small talk at break over coffee. Downcast eyes. Beyond that, we don’t speak.

Now we are embroiled in the process. We talk to friends about it, but they don’t understand. How can they truly? Our partner is in the thick of it with us. Sometimes people ask us too many questions, or just tell us to “relax and it’ll happen!!”

We see each other again at the ultrasound clinic. First it’s the “high achievers” in suits, in line before 6am, then, the rest of us, somewhat discheveled. We each carry a folder full of numbers and stats, a map of the maze-like hospital, and our medical protocall. Red folders for IVF. Green for egg donation. Still, we don’t speak.

Eventually, we get so overcome by the process that we crave the comraderie of other women going through the experience. We join online chats and groups, and read countless blogs. We speak through the computer. A little echo in a long tunnel of silence. 

So many times, I’ve wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say “I UNDERSTAND.” I’ve wanted to give you a hug if you needed it, or a smile just to commiserate. It sucks. It really does! And noone knows it better than someone experiencing it as you are.

I’m the woman that sits across from you getting her blood drawn for the millionth time. You can also find me down in the ultrasound room. I’m the lady on line in the grocery store, buying pineapple and avoiding dairy. I’m your online BFF.

Let’s smile at one another next time. A big cheshire cat smile. Emanating like light from a once dark space.

Baby Chronicles 2: Single girl considers Adopting through Foster Care

Today marked the second meeting of baby class. Its making me wonder why I don’t just get drunk and pick up the cutest sailor at the bar. . How much easier would it be if I just knocked myself up ? I’d have a little one that would look like me. People would not make judgements on the street because our skin and hair colors did not match. I wouldn’t be “married” to social workers, therapists, and “the state”. I could be a really bad parent with minimal repercussions. So why am I going through with this ? So much red tape, long invasive interviews and epic waiting. 

Because somewhere out there a child is sleeping in a bed that’s not his. He’s been separated from his parents because of abuse or neglect. He floats between foster homes and temporary caregivers. He has little that is his beyond his memories (some good and others not so good) and the clothes on his back. Tomorrow the system can decide he is better at another temporary home , and they’ll move him quickly without notice. He will be ripped again from everything he knows and thrown into a new situation. Hopefully a better one. Sometimes he dreams that he can fly, sometimes he dreams of his momma’s smell. But he never dreams of growing up, of going to college or “belonging” or  being happy. That idea floats above him like smoke and its best just to think about today so as not to be disappointed again. 

He is what the State calls “legally free”, which means he can never go back to what he called home again and his parents no longer have the hope of reuniting with him. The state gave them 2 years to get it together but they couldn’t, as hard as they tried, and in the end they were forced to sign away their parental rights. He is legally orphaned in some ways. 

What would it be like to give him another chance ? A permanent home where he is loved and cared for. A place where he can grow, make mistakes without repercussions and grow into a boy, then a man, an possibly one day a nurturer to children of his own. 

One house, one kid , one chance. 

I think I can do that. 

Hope is what we both need right now. 

Baby Chronicles 1: Single girl considers Adopting through Foster Care

I am sending this to my girls.
 I need to share.
>
 Yesterday was my first night of baby classes. When considering adoption or
 foster care through the state, it is required that you take 24 hrs of
 classes to help prepare you for the long road ahead. I hope to start a
 journal (this might be entry numero uno) during the process, some of which
I plan to share , other bits I will just hold close to my heart.
 Read what you want, I just hoped to share it with those strong women I
 adore and admire. (Those I might need to count on in the future for
 guidance or reassurance during this long and emotional process- don’t say I
 didn’t warn you ! )
>
> I rushed out of work with my google map in hand, only to get lost 3 times
> in the maze of Boston traffic. Frantic and worried about time (would I be
> considered “unfit” if they knew about my Habitual Lateness Disorder ?) I
> made an illegal u turn across 4 lanes of manic traffic. “Come get me
> coppers !” I cried. . How many times over the next few years will I be
> rushing about to meet a daycare pickup or attend an after school event?
> Better start getting used to it now : the single girl transitions to a
> schedule not quite her own. This is someone Else’s clock, and these new
> “must do’s” do not conclude with a celebratory martini at the end of the
> rainbow.
>
> Bouncy and in working girl style I arrive as the bell rings. I run to the
> Loo to freshen up. A weight watchers meeting is happening in the same
> office plaza and it is hard to discern the hopeful future-moms from the
> aspiring weight losers in the ladies’ room. Everyone has this weird glimmer
> of hopeful anticipation which is scary when you think of it. Can loosing 15
> lbs be as exciting as evolving a future family ? Ask me in the summer when
> I try to squeeze into my swim suit!
>
> A woman in the bathroom chats me up, assuming we are going to the same
> weight watchers meeting, further exciting my awkwardness. Instead of
> listening to my social worker, I spend the next half hour wondering “do I
> need weight watchers?????” . And I can’t even blame my midlife tummy on
> “baby weight” …..shucks.
>
> But the vanity and the paranoia are only a mask to distract me from what’s
> really on my mind….
> AM I READY FOR THIS ?
>
> Knee high black boots, my skinny jeans a belted tunic sweater (which after
> the weight watchers incident made me feel as if I looked a little more like
> santa and a little less like a MILF) I wondered, am I mom material ? Can I
> still be coquettish with baby spittle on my blouse ?
>
> My classmates- “Mr and Ms” , very cool. It took me a while to see them
> clearly. Older, amazing hearts, hopeful to adopt a young person they know
> with autism. “Talulah”, earth mother if I ever met one. Her kids are grown.
> She is hoping to be a foster mom to a baby girl and is open to one who has
> special needs. She has the warmest eyes and a melodic voice and I want to
> crawl into her lap….. Our teachers- “J” our leader. She reminds me so
> much of my sister. This gives me great comfort and strength. “Red”
> boundless energy, the drama queen, she is an adopted mother and shares
> advice and humor. When she laughs she wrinkles her forehead and nose, and
> her whole body shakes. “Twinkle” a social worker who works in intensive
> foster care. Very luscious and energetic with a rhinestone studded tank
> top. Not at all what I expected for a social worker.
>
> These people are cool.
>
> I was hoping class would be quiet, full of yuppies with cross pens and an
> opportunity to hide in the back and process as we go. Instead we are
> expected to PARTICIPATE. To role play and reenact deeply emotional things.
> At first it feels more like group therapy than a class put on by DSS. I
> really had to take a moment and shed my eggshell heart-armor I was wearing.
> It was so real. I think we all cried at one point or another.
>
> Here’s what I learned today. (Aka- things that scared me):
> *Sometimes the kids that come home with you are afraid of you and don’t
> understand why they can’t be with their birth parents.
> * its good to create HOUSE RULES as it helps the child understand what is
> expected of them. Never assume they know what you want.(Even if the house
> is on fire)
> * Its important to encourage the child to speak openly about his history
> and maybe even put a picture of his birth mom near your family photos. It
> makes him feel like it is okay to talk about his past and he does not need
> to choose between you and the birth family.
> * a lot of social workers and people you will never meet will be deciding if
> you are the “right” parent for this baby. Kind of like yentas with the
> baby’s best interest at heart.
>
> My head is spinning and I am a little overwhelmed. I sat by my fireplace
> eating mango ice cream and realized… Wow. What a new, scary and beloved
> thing to do…
>
> And this is only the beginning.
>
>