Friday, August 19, 2011

Presently stuck

I am currently stuck with the really valid concern that someone, somewhere, is going to take what I have said about parenting and post it on some random blog who's entire point is to show how shitty adoptive parents are. And today, after having read some of those blogs, I have to agree... there's a bunch of shitty stuff happening out there. Shitty stuff being said by adoptive parents. Shitty stuff being done by adoptive parents. Shitty this, shitty that, shitty, shitty, shitty.

I am caught up in a web of not knowing what to say. Very recently Claudia asked who wanted to write a post regarding the topic of conspicuousness... I quickly raised my hand and couldn't wait to be involved. I could immediately think about five different occasions to focus on, and had finally started to narrow it down to one when I thought- wait. WAIT. My crap, my discomfort, means nothing right now. Not when I have this incredible boy napping upstairs who is counting on me to make his world safe and secure.

I never, ever, ever would have thought the details in the world of adoption could actually end up being so huge (I'm not giving myself enough credit here, I know... but that's not the point). Although tesoro and I didn't go into it all thinking we were going to "save a child," we did go into it thinking that we were going to become parents and that although it might be tricky at times, the skittly moments would by far outweigh the rest.

I generally feel like there is some kind of cloud hanging out over us. Not necessarily a foreboding cloud, but a cloud all the same. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though we go walking around over in these here parts with an umbrella constantly in hand, but when I take the moment to think... to really just think... well, that's when the cloud makes itself know.  I especially sense it when I read blogs like this. Or this. Or this. And I end up thinking, how could I have ever thought it was going to be easy? How could I have ever thought that our son would grow up knowing that because he was all kinds of loved by us, all that other really shitty, hard, intense, real stuff would heal up?  How can we do absolutely right by him?  By his (our) family?  How?

I think about things I have said online. Personal stuff. Not so personal stuff. And those things I have said out loud. To friends. To acquaintances. And I wonder, what was their perception of what I said? Why did I say what I said? Did it benefit anyone? Did it benefit my son? My marriage? Myself?  Which is the most important (rhetorical)?  And did I pay attention to that who is most important?

Yesterday I sent out some emails regarding the incredible "Ask 5 for 5." I made a personal plea, and I spoke about our son. About fifteen minutes later I sent out a follow-up email, asking everyone to disregard what I had said about leone. About leone's family. I felt like it was possible that I could be seen as using my son... using his story, his history, his future. And although that really wasn't my intent, because it is his story, it is his history, it is his future that has us pushing forward to fight this drought in any way we can, there is no doubt in my mind that HE should never be used (especially by me) in a way that gets others to pay up. To act. To make decisions.

Does that even make sense?

I see leone. I see him for who he is. His beauty. His strength. His agony. His wonder. The things that make him tick, and the things that make him tock. I am beginning to understand things in ways I have never understood them before (perhaps it should be stated that this understanding has come by way of blogs, books, discussions, and time spent deep in thought).  And although his papa and I made the choice to adopt him, he had absolutely no say in it. And he most certainly has never asked us to use his story to try to make a difference in the world. And he MOST certainly never asked to be in a place where he would be viewed differently because he is black and we are white. And the idea of him wanting me to vent about the struggles we encounter with the world? With our life? To just everyone and anyone?  I don't see it.

I no longer know what to say.  How to say it.  Where to say it.  I know that I am human.  I know that I make mistakes.  But I have this fear, this brain-altering thought, that the mistakes made by being thoughtlessly vocal about our lives could (and do) have huge, huge, HUGE implications.  And the fact is, those implications might just not be so damn great.