an attempt at clarification, and thanks

I am realizing that the beginning of my adoption post from the other day is the exact sort of thing that could make all my friends needlessly paranoid about every single thing they have ever said to me about adoption and every expression of support they have given me regarding our process. And I hate to think of this, because my friends have been overwhelmingly supportive and classy and tactful about the whole thing, and I have always felt that I have safe places to talk about this stuff when I need to talk about it. Why is so much easier to rant than to acknowledge this?

I struggle a lot with how much information to give people, always fearing that if I say too much it will lead to questions down the road that are too painful for me to answer. The reality of the adoption process is that most “leads” dissolve into nothing, and after that happens, you really don’t want to talk about them to anyone, at all. When I wrote that I fear expressions of sympathy, I think it was because I want to normalize the unpredictable nature of this process for myself and for everyone I discuss it with. I don’t want to hear “Oh, how sad that such-and-such lead didn’t work out for you,” because if it didn’t work out, I need to believe that it was meant to not work out.

It wasn’t really accurate to say that I fear expressions of sympathy. What I fear are expressions of pity. Anyone who has struggled with infertility, who has sweated over how best to adopt—anyone for whom the process of having children has been less straightforward than the average—probably understands what I mean. We need to handle these situations in ways that don’t make us feel perpetually defeated. When I am part of a situation over which I have so little control, I claim my own agency by surrendering to its unpredictable nature, by refusing self-pity, and by recognizing that this is quite simply how life works. Sometimes it’s hard for me to hold on to the distinction between this kind of mature detachment and a complete denial that I am facing emotional challenges.

But again, I have to repeat how great my friends have been. The few uncomfortable comments I have received have been mainly from people who come from a generation for which adoption is not particularly normalized. Most of my friends seem to understand that I need support but not pity, that thoughtful inquiries about how we’re doing on the adoption front are helpful, but also that I need to discuss this at my own speed. And believe me, not everyone who goes through adoption is so lucky. So to all of you have been so patient, who have listened to me and to Eric as we try to figure things out, and who have, through your compassion and insight, moved us closer to knowing our own intentions and our own hearts, thank you. We’re going to need you more than ever in the months and years ahead.

I want to write about the inauguration and how good it felt to watch the sun rise this morning on a new Obama-led America (WOOOOOO!!!!), but I’ll save that for later in the week. We have foot-high pile of foster care training homework to get through before our second training this weekend, and due to severe Obamamania, it has not gotten any shorter thus far.

ETA: Rereading. For a so-called clarification, this post strikes me as lacking in clarity. Short version: Apologies if I made any of you get all worried about things you have said to me that have actually been totally supportive and cool. Attempts to explain continual process of personal figuring-it-out-ness. Many thanks to my friends.