Christmas is over. So let’s go with an overly dark, overly mysterious theme. It fits my mood. Well, it would fit my mood if I knew what my mood was…

That said, I sent a PM to a new member on the forums who posted a thread inquiring about ANLC. I think I need to spend some more time working on a “form reply” for circumstances such as this one. Obviously, it was an adoptive parent and not an expectant Mother. Though, really, I need to work on a form reply for both cases.

In the earlier days when I started speaking out against the hell that is Adoption Network Law Center, I was very emotional about it. That won no one over. In fact, I had one adoptive couple, who has since adopted through ANLC, tell me that they didn’t “care how they treated birth mothers.” They “just wanted a baby.” Classy!

I know that if I work on a factual, less-emotion driven post geared at how J&D were screwed by ANLC in terms of money, time and legal stuff, more people might be prone to perk up and listen.

But what to do about those expectant mothers who won’t listen to emotion or logic? I didn’t want to when I was placing. Shoot! ANLC was bubble gum and lollipops to me in those days. I didn’t know that I was being lied to, deceived and otherwise taken advantage of in a very vulnerable state.

Perhaps working on these “form replies” will give me something to strive towards. I’m trying. I just want to take a long, long nap. Instead, I get a glorious trip to the gynecologist tomorrow to seek out “further therapy.”

No one told me about this stuff. No one.

Maybe it’s the cold medicine.

You see, BigBrother and I are both sick. It’s a lovely Christmas present handed to us, in person, by the Munchkin herself. We came home from our visit with mild cold symptoms. By Wednesday, BigBrother was super sick. He now has a nebulizer at home and has his breathing treatments every four hours. He also has his first ear infection. Amoxicillin for that… which means that I guess we’re lucky that the only food he will eat is his yogurt. Small blessings? Silver linings? Sigh.

Myself, I just have a wicked head cold. Thankfully it hasn’t travelled down the pipes (yet?) and I do forsee myself able to carry a tune for my solo at church on Christmas Eve. Or, one would hope.

So, for the moment, I’m blaming my inability to feel anything emotional on cold medicine.

I’m not excited about Christmas. I’m not angry about some of the things that happened on the visit. I’m not sad that it’s over. I don’t feel extremely passionate when my Husband cuddles me (though, I do admit, his arms are where I feel safest right now).

I’m just this detatched ball of un-feeling. And, really, it freaking sucks. I’d rather be ticked off so badly that I couldn’t breathe. (Not that I can breathe through my nose at this point but you get what I’m saying.) I just want to feel something.

Oh well.