inevitable questions

I can remember being in a grocery store with my mom. I must have been six or seven. My two younger sisters were in the cart. An older woman approached us to ohh and ahh over my littlest sister who was still quite young. I can so clearly remember the woman commenting on how different the three of us looked and asking my mother if we had the same father. The question confused me, but my mom explained to the lady that we all shared the same daddy. I remember so clearly that the lady was so nice and even now I don't think that she intended any harm by her question.


My mom was so matter of fact in her response, and so confident in her and my dads love for each of us, so proud of our differences. That was the first time I remember that question being asked, but most certainly not the last.


It is a totally inappropriate comment to make, regardless of the family circumstances. (In our case my sisters and I do share genetics from both our mother and father, but look very different from each other.) But people are curious and will ask questions, inappropriate or not. It is how we respond to and educate people about situations that they don't understand that really matters. It may not be a duty we signed up for, but it is necessary. I can only hope that others will offer me the same education when I say or do things that might be hurtful. 


As ML and I embark on building our family with the assistance of DS, I am thinking alot about how we will deal with the future questions and situations that are waiting for us. 


Mel reviewed a post by Kristen at I Spy a Family in her Round-Up last Friday. Kristen describes a situation that occurred in the grocery store, where a store clerk inappropriately questioned how her family was formed. She acknowledged that this was an inevitable situation for her family that has been built through adoption, but wishes that people would show respect for her children by asking questions when her children are not in ear shot. 


Kristen's post reminded me of that day we were in the grocery store, and all of the times since that the formation of my family has been questioned. It is a gentle reminder to me that these questions are normal, that we can expect them. The only part of this equation that we can control is our response. For some of us the emotions of our situation make it difficult to respond in a matter of fact way, and that is totally understandable. What I will always remember is that my mom didn't hesitate in her response, she was so confident in our family, there was no doubt about her love for my dad and their love for us. She made it so clear that we belonged together and that our differences were valued. 


I hope that I - that we all - can find that confidence. I hope that we can use it to educate others, and most importantly to show our children just how loved they are. 


Thanks Kristen for this great post, and thanks Mel for making sure that I didn't miss it!

Cards at Target

Okay, so I am going out on a limb here. My Lover is one of only two people IRL who know that I have this blog, and the only one who has the web address to read it. I wanted him to know that I was writing about our private story in this public yet anonymous space, and I wanted him to be able to read what I had to say, if and when he wants. 

So anyways, he might be reading, I don’t know. Babe - this post is about something that I am planning for you, so be warned that you might spoil the (little) surprise if you keep reading. 

I was at Target this morning, picking up ink so that we could finnish printing our Cade Foundation grant. I walked in, through all of the kids clothes noticing how cute all the little outfits are, but thinking that even if I had kids, I wouldn’t be spending tons of money on new clothes (since we’ll have all those hand me down, but also because we are pretty frugal.) I walked through the baby isle, those things get me every time, but then I thought about how fast babies grow and decided to put on a pretty pair of IF glasses and think that it was kind of nice that I get so much time to admire these sweet baby clothes without being sad that my baby is all grown up. 

I found the printer ink and headed back to check out, and walked past the cards isle. I love cards and always stop to look at the cards isle. The whole row was Fathers Day Cards. I sighed. I found a card for my dad. It was perfect and talked about what a great dad he was for me growing up and how much I still love him. I may have my issues with my dad, but I do love him, and nothing can change the fact that he was a great father while I was growing up. 

Then I saw these cards “to my husband on fathers day.” I have never seen a card like that before. I was stopped in my tracks. I pulled one of the cards up to get a closer look. I can’t remember exactly what it said, but I was hooked. I looked at every single one. 

and then I bought one. 

For My Lover.

I do love him, so much, especially on Fathers Day, because he is the only person I could ever want to experience parenthood with, because he has been so wonderful dealing with this IF journey, because he is willing to undergo examinations, and procedures, and injections so that we can become parents together, because he is patient and kind and loving and will be a most wonderful father someday.

I am going to have to edit the text of the card a little bit, since he is not a father, yet. But I am going to give it to him on Father’s Day, in celebration of our journey, and anticipation of the wonderful father that he will someday be.  

So I guess the limb I am going out on is that i feel a little like maybe this might not be an appropriate thing to do. Maybe he doesn’t want to be reminded that it is fathers day. Maybe this, Maybe that...  

As I am writing this, I am catching myself trying to guess what he might or might not want.  I was going to ask for your thoughts and ideas about how to deal with Fathers Day, and these “to my Husband on Fathers Day” cards. 

The reality is that I want this, I want to give him this card, I want him to know that I am thinking about him on this day and loving him with my whole heart. 

Sweet, its settled. and I feel great knowing that someday, My Lover will be a wonderful father. 

My dad

Sitting in a coffee shop right now. It is a beautiful day. Unusually beautiful and warm. The music is so upbeat and the cafe is bustling. My mocha is delicious with whip cream and chocolate on top. I like days like today. 

I saw my therapist this morning. I really like her and am really glad I found her. I feel like she is so kind and gentle and understanding. and she doesn’t waste my time either. I have so much to get out, and she has been great at helping me frame my thoughts and fears in such a way that I can get my head around them. As opposed to the free-floating wordless emotions that are so overwhelming. I wish that I’d found her a year ago, and am glad that I kept looking and didn’t settle for someone who wasn’t a good match for what I need right now.

We talked about my dad today. A great man. Who i love dearly. But who has chosen his addiction over me and our family. I never would have brought him up, but she did, and I am glad. My issues with him have come up in strange ways as we consider donor sperm, and the role of a father. 

I’d never really thought that the things I project onto “My Lover” (yep, I’ve been thinking about what name I can use for my husband on this blog, and My Lover is perfect) might have their roots in my relationship with my dad, but it sure explains a lot to think about it like that. 

My dad is a great man, really. He was a great dad. Loved me and my sisters and my mom with his whole heart. I’ve never doubted that, not for one second. 

But he is an alcoholic. He has always been. I didn’t see it growing up, but I suppose that I knew there was something. 

I suppose that my mom did a lot to hold out family together and keep my dad held together over the years. Interesting family dynamics when I stop to think about it. My mom was our primary caregiver, the one who was in charge of everything. My dad however was the provider and definitely the man of the house. His was the final word, respected by my mom, and us girls. 

Things changed when he had his heart attack, and heart surgery. My mom decided that he could no longer smoke inside the house. And we were all more vocal about his continued drinking, since the doctor had been very clear that this incident was a warning and the repairs would only last a decade or so if he didn’t change his ways. For us it was black and white - he had to stop drinking and smoking. For him it was black and white - he wasn’t making any changes. A few years later he and my mom separated, then divorced, and he cashed out his retirement and moved across the county. Without my mom to hold him together he has made a lot of bad choices. Maybe I’ll write about that more one of these days. 

I gave up trying to call him about a year ago. He rarely answered his phone and never checked his messages. My attempts to contact him became an exercise in futility. So I quit trying. Months passed. He called me on christmas eve. It was great to hear from him, but hard to talk. He promised to call again more often

He didn’t come to my sister’s wedding in February. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that. Really. It is so hard to reconcile that this great man who was a great father can just walk away from us like this. Sometimes I think that it would have been easier had he just died. 

And them he called me a few weeks ago. We talked for a little bit. I told him that things have been really hard for us, with My Lover still being out of work, and that we are having a hard time starting our family. It sounded like he knew, so my mom or sisters must have filled him in. 

I still don’t feel like I want to try to call him. My Lover thinks that I should keep trying, that since he called me last it is my turn to call him. 

I love my dad, and I know that he loves me. I really do. But I can’t compete with his addiction. I can’t. and I don’t want to try. maybe because I know what he will choose. maybe because i don’t think I should have to. 

But as I contemplate what makes a dad a dad. andd my fears (which will remain a word-less blob of emotion). and my feelings of wanting to protect My Lover from the pain of this journey. I wonder how my feelings about my dad overlay on top of all this. 

Today is my grandpa's birthday. He passed few years ago. I miss him all the time,and can't help but think that things would be different if he were still with us. 

Wow - that got a little heavy. But Ohhh does it feel good to write! and this day is so gorgeous, so I’m heading home to get my puppy and head down to the beach.