The Chronicles of Munchkin Land » Blog Archive

I cried in church today.

The “Angel Choir,” which is your typical little kids choir, presented their Christmas program this morning during service. And I sobbed. To be honest, Christmas music never fails to make me kind of weepy in the first place. But this year it was more than that.

Because she should have been up there, too. She’s finally the age where she could have participated. She would have been singing. And dancing. And wearing an angel costume. And loving the heck out of it. And I would have been so proud. I would have been up with the other Mamas, clutching my camera and just beaming back at her. I would have given her a big hug afterwards and told her how proud I was of her.

But it didn’t happen like that. And it won’t happen like that.

The kids’ program didn’t make me weepy like this last year because, at our church, she would have been too young to participate. But this year, her first “of age” year, it just smacked me in the face.

She would have been the cutest one up there, of course. And most talented.

Alas.

Oh, *hugs*, Jenna, just *hugs*

Judy’s last blog post..Dear Dad,

((HUGS)) GREAT BIG ONES!

Roni’s last blog post..MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

I thought I responded to this the other day, but I guess it got eated by the internetz. :(

Anyway, the long and short of it is: I had a concert of my own to attend. And I was happy to be there. So happy.

But when I got home, in private, and watched the video I took? Oh yeah. Niagara Falls, baby.

I get you. Hugs.

Coco’s last blog post..Wrapping Up the 25 Days Challenge & the Holidays

Hello Jenna,

I just bumbled onto your blog last night. I’ve read your last few posts…the “About the Author” and “About the Munchkin” tabs…obviously, there is alot I don’t know. But I do have some questions for you. I hope you don’t mind. They are posed with the utmost of respect. From your writing, I think we could be good friends in real life
First off, you should know that I have been in a crisis pregnancy. Though the nine months were turbulent at best, the true crisis part of it only lasted about two weeks. Because I loved him, and he married me. Praise God, he married me. But I gave him an out. It was 10 years ago. We were both in college. About a week after we found out, we had a huge fight. All about what we were going to do and how were we going to manage….and I don’t really remember what all. But I remember gut wrenching sobs and thinking, “I can’t live the rest of my life with the burden that he HAD to marry me.” So I told him that he could go. I’d be o.k. (big fat lie, there). He could walk away. And he could have, too. He won’t admit it, but for a moment he considered it. He could have climbed in his car and driven away. Lots of them do.
For the longest time, I couldn’t even look back on that night. My sense of panic at the thought that I might have been left alone to face the most difficult time of my life overpowered me and my brain would shut down. Even now, my heart is beating faster and my throat is constricting while I type. As the years have passed, I’ve tried to process the ‘what-ifs.’ What if he hadn’t been the man I thought he was? What if he had taken his chance and ran? It is an extremely dismal prospect, and I had a family to turn to. It would have broken their hearts, and there would have been a strong sense of shame (deeply religous, living in a small everybody-in-your-business town), but they would have stood by me. How many women do not have that support network?
But I don’t know what kind of a future I could have given my son at that point in my life. I definitely would not have been able to finish school. I would have had to live off my parents and work long hours at minimum wage. Because of my personal beliefs and faith, I would feel profoundly guilty for not giving him a dad. If he (my boyfriend then, now husband) had left, would I have made an adoption plan? Would I have found a loving couple who were ready to parent? Could I really be that selfless? I don’t know.
I’m so thankfull that I didn’t have to make that decision. We were married the next week in a small private ceremony. We now have five children. Four by birth and one through adoption. Marina was adopted from Russia. Ours is a closed adoption by Russian law. I live with helping her process her grief as an adoptee, and I dread the day when she will have questions about her birthmother/birthfamily that I cannot answer. I applaud your leaving your daughter a record here of your journey.
I’m getting to my point….I promise.
My husband and I are now considering an open domestic adoption of an african-american infant (we are caucasion). My biggest fears of a domestic adoption is that the birth mother will always regret her decision. That I will always feel as though I’ve stolen her child. That–in hindsight–it will become apparent that there was no real need for placement. With Marina, I do not have that concern. Her birthmother was terminaly ill. She signed over her rights at birth to the state–as did the maternal grandparents. Marina was living in an orphanage at the time of the adoption.
I will likely meet our second birthmother at the very least. We are hoping for a fully open placement–with updates, phone calls, visits, etc. How can I have a relationship with her when I feel all the while as though SHE should be the parent–not me? But shouldn’t I hope the best for my birthmother? Shouldn’t I want her to go on from that point to be successful? Happy? Able to be a great parent…one day?
One of the articles (supposedly coming from a birthparent survey/support group) the agency gave us says that birthparents have carefully considered their choice, that they have decided not to parent, that yes, they grieve, but that they move on with their lives, and that they depend on us [adoptive parents] to be the forever parents.
Surely you cannot deny that many women making an adoption plan are in a chaotic situation? I’m sorry, I know that phrase really bothered you, but let’s just use that for now. I think that any time you are faced with an unplanned pregnancy, your life could be described as “chaotic.” From your blog, it sounds as though you went on from placement to marry a wonderful man and parent two beautiful children. Yours is a success story. You must allow that is not the case for all birthparents?
My younger sister is a social worker, my older sister a foster parent, and my mother is a CASA volunteer. They work with individuals every day who NEVER should have parented in the first place. They hurt, hurt, hurt these children–whether by ignorance, or negelect, or intention.
On the other hand, I know from experience that agencies lie. That they decieve. Indeed, the article I mentioned might only be a ploy to allay our fears and hook us in. Nothing would surprise me. I’ve not had it from your side, though, so when you say, “The agency lied.” Could you be more specific?
It sounds as though you regret your choice. This is my worst fear realized. So I guess what I am asking is: Are you the exception? Or the rule?

Jessy’s last blog post..Very Merry, Indeed

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Subscribe via RSS