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When I Disappear

Jenna — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 03:45:33 +0000

As open book as I am, there are topics I don’t write about here for any number of reasons. Often, I am busy protecting the stories of the others, respecting their boundaries and allowing them their own space to live their own story. Like how I don’t write about the fact that, yes, I do have personal experience with reunion in my family. Like any number of any other things that get too far into the nitty gritty of who we are and why we’re here and what we’re doing. I won’t write some things because I don’t want to.

But sometimes…

Sometimes I can’t write some things because… because I can’t.

I’m rarely wordless. I have lots to say. About lots of things.

But there are topics. There are things. There are emotions and experiences and bouts of depression and feelings and fears and thoughts that I just can’t put out into the great wide open. As much as I’d like to credit myself that I’m just “taking care of me” and “respecting my own boundaries,” it’s not that. Or, it is sometimes. But, with some things, the words simply won’t form.

Sometimes it’s because I’ve blocked something out and have no ability to even go there to form the words, to even find the memories. Sometimes it’s because I know what I want to say… and I don’t want to say it out loud. I don’t want it to be real. I don’t want me to know I feel a certain way, let alone you. And so I’m silent. I don’t go there.

People say things, even with good intentions, not knowing. Or maybe not understanding even if they know. And I blink, force myself to smile and nod. I stumble over some answer I’ve formed over the years. I look away. I disappear inside of myself, somewhere between a memory and a prayer that this conversation will end. Soon.

But it won’t. It doesn’t. It will continue. And I’ll just keep smiling and nodding and stumbling and disappearing.

When I Disappear is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Announcement: Adoption Reading Challenge 2012 Is Happening!

Jenna — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 16:21:00 +0000

Last year’s Adoption Reading Challenge was a success. I don’t care if you didn’t read all of your books and feel that you failed; it was still a success. People who aren’t touched by adoption read books they never would have read. People who are touched by adoption read books they never would have read. We expanded our knowledge, ranted a little bit and had a lot of fun. With books. That? Is a success, my friends.

As such, I’m hosting the Adoption Reading Challenge again in 2012. The landing page to share your links is already live. I kept the reading levels and number of challenge books the same this year. I actually fell short of the 20 myself (by 3!), but I don’t think 20 books is too outrageous. Here’s the challenge levels:

Level 1: Read 3 books about adoption, non-fiction or fiction.
Level 2: Read 6 books about adoption, 3 non-fiction/3 fiction.
Level 3: Read 12 books about adoption, 6 non-fiction/6 fiction.
Level 4: Read 20 books about adoption, 10 non-fiction/10 fiction.

That’s a lot of reading if you choose Level 4, but it was really interesting for me. I had to go out and beyond what my experience is (open, domestic adoption) and into other realms I hadn’t before (international adoption, adoptee rights, and so on). The rules, on the official page, are also the same as last year, with this addition that explains why people not touched by adoption might want to join this challenge.

Adoption is a huge theme in books (and movies/TV). Reading it with that in mind, to look at how it is treated in both fiction and non-fiction is a great way to become mindful of something that might be outside of your immediate experience.

Edited to Add: The rules also show that we have a Goodreads group for the challenge. Participation is not mandatory. Why should you use it? It would be great if you’re not a blogger (easy, quick interaction and reviews) or if you don’t like to review every book on your blog. It would also be great to help others find books.

The truth is that adoption is mentioned in all sorts of popular books (think Twilight to Jodi Picoult to even the books our children read). Recognizing it when you read it, talking about it and understanding why some depictions of adoption are detrimental to social change is not a bad idea whether you’re touched by adoption or not.

That said, I hope you will participate again in the Adoption Reading Challenge. You can sign up below and leave your links for reviews on the main landing page. Doing so helps others figure out what to read as they go. (Or, you know, what not to read if it’s a truly horrid book.)

I hope you'll join us again this year. I have no clue what I'll be reading adoption-wise this year (though I do know that even when I wasn't planning on reading an adoption-specific book, I sometimes got to check off another book read as it ended up being about adoption!). Let's get reading and sharing ideas, okay? Okay!

Announcement: Adoption Reading Challenge 2012 Is Happening! is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Open Adoption Roundtable 32: Holiday Memory

Jenna — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 03:49:16 +0000

The newest Open Adoption Roundtable poses a challenge:

This topic is becoming something of an annual December tradition for the Open Adoption Bloggers! Last year we wrote about how open adoption intersects with our holiday traditions. Two years ago we wrote in general about open adoption and the holiday season.

This time we are going to focus in on one specific memory and record another small moment in the ongoing stories of adoption in our lives. Share a holiday memory that involves open adoption.

Holy holidays, Batman. This isn’t an easy subject for me. Christmas falls 12 days after the Munchkin’s birthday. I was going to avoid this particular roundtable because I’m always in such a post-birthday, holiday-craze funk, and I don’t even know if I particularly have memories of anything revolving around the holidays and open adoption.

And then I remembered that I’ve been blogging for ten-and-a-half years. I pulled up my archives, clicked around Christmas 2003, and found this…

December 26, 2003

I broke down last night in a sobbing fit (on FireDad’s chest). I had called x and Dee to wish them a Merry Christmas and see how Munchkin was doing. Well, they weren’t home. So, I left a message. And they never called back. So I panicked that she was in the hospital or that they were never going to tell me how she was and other delusional craziness. FireDad calmed me down.

They called his cell phone today. (But he’s at work.) And I had two emails from them tonight. (I’m at FireDad’s mom’s doing laundry.) And they made a website so that I can keep up on her pictures and growth.

I couldn’t have picked two better people for the Munchie.

There are lots of things going on in that little journal entry. That was really the beginning of our open adoption relationship. We hadn’t really had contact in the immediate postpartum. I didn’t want to “bother” them. And I was dealing with postpartum fluctuations, a move to a new state and those lovely swollen, non-nursing, hard-as-rocks boobs.

I remember trying to ignore the fact that I had called to no response, but the panic built that entire Christmas day. Perhaps it was even more pronounced as Munchkin’s original due date had been Christmas Eve. Or really, perhaps the panic was entirely normal, seeing as how we had no guidance as to how our relationship was supposed to look or act. One cannot discount my anxiety or those postpartum hormones.

I also see some blind hope in that post; the same blind hope I see in every post written by every new birth parent trying to walk in the dark of a new relationship. I needed to believe that what I had done was right, was good. I continue to realize how lucky I am that Dee was twelve kinds of awesome, that she worked so hard on that website and the scrapbook she gave to me and that, together, we cultivated not only a birth-mother-adoptive-mother-relationship but a friendship.

I also see really bad writing, but that’s neither here nor there.

Christmases have gotten easier in some ways. Maybe it’s because I’m so busy with the boys. Maybe it’s because of cookies and traditions and travel and snow and carols and pajamas and so on. Maybe it’s because I have to put myself on auto-pilot. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t change anything, that it is what it is. And maybe it’s because I have to keep the faith that what we have will only continue to be just that: what we have.

Maybe someday the roundtable will ask about summer memories! I have lots of happier ones of those (even though summer is hot and makes me cranky, ha!).

For reference, I participated in the 2009 holiday open adoption roundtable. It delves deeper into why it’s hard for me to separate the holidays from her birthday. 2010 was a hard year as it was (three family deaths), so I’m not surprised I didn’t share anything.

Open Adoption Roundtable 32: Holiday Memory is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

“I’m Happy. But I’m Sad Too.”

Jenna — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 17:56:18 +0000

Yesterday was mundane.

I bought a new mattress. I went on a playdate and made cookies. I cleaned our bedroom to make room for the new mattress. I helped put the frame together, helped put the mattress in the room and helped make the bed. I decided I was too tired to make dinner; we went out to eat. I read books. I parented. I played games. I did everything I normally do.

But it wasn’t a normal day.

Yesterday my daughter turned eight. 396 miles from me.

My husband looked at me at one point, trying to cheer me up and said, “But it’s a happy day. She’s such an amazing girl.” He speaks the truth. There’s a duality on her birthday for me.

I celebrate the fact that she’s awesome in more ways than words can ever truly express. I eat a cupcake — cream filled this year. I sit back and think about the joy we experienced over the past 365 days; the visits we had, the phone calls, the new experiences. I marvel in everything she is. I smile and hold so dear the fact that we are where we are, that we have what we have; I am blessed.

The breeze blows and I’m reminded that despite all of the joy, it’s all tinged with a bit of sadness as well. I am here. She is there. We have what we have, but it isn’t what little girls think of when they’re young and dream of having a mother-daughter relationship. The loss stabs sometimes. And twists.

I looked back at my husband, my voice cracking with the weight. “I’m happy. But I’m sad too.”

He looked back to the road, nodding; his face lit by the stoplight shining through the rain speckled windshield. “I know. Me too.”

That is my truth. A little bit of both; happy and sad — sometimes one more than the other.

“I’m Happy. But I’m Sad Too.” is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Thank You, Judy

Jenna — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 21:03:15 +0000

Judy passed away yesterday evening.

2007: Me, pregnant with LB, Dawn and Judy, a few months before her initial diagnosis.

As with anyone who dies, there are things left unsaid. And so…

Thank you, Judy, for the laughs.

Thank you for the books for my sons; so many of the ones you bought became fast-and-forever favorites.

Thank you for being snarky.

Thank you for accepting me.

Thank you for your voice.

Thank you for learning and growing.

Thank you for your ear, your shoulder.

Thank you for the emails, the comments, the tweets, the connection.

Thank you for days on the beach, even if it was in the middle of Ohio.

Thank you for befriending my mom.

Thank you for loving my family.

Thank you for touching my life.

Thank you for being you, Judy.

Thank You, Judy is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

A Pause for Judy

Jenna — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 17:39:28 +0000

Please take a moment and say a prayer for Judy of Just Enjoy Him. Today she entered hospice.

–

Judy and I met years ago via the adoption groups on LiveJournal. When we realized that we lived close to one another (an hour and twenty minutes is close in Ohio, you guys), we struck up a friendship. She is an adoptive mom, and was one of the first real life adoptive mom people who embraced me for who I was. Over the years, she attended birthday parties and hung out with us at a local state park. We had lunch and exchanged snarky messages about everything from adoption to books. She remains my favorite snarky librarian.

In December 2007 she was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She was actually diagnosed with cancer just after my mom was in September of that year and the two also forged a friendship over some shared experiences — and some differences.

Today I am sad and angry and praying and all that goes into not wanting to lose a friend. I ask you to do the same. Judy has been a voice in the blogosphere for years. About adoption, about ethics, about books, about faith, about cancer, about life. I encourage you to pause today to read a bit of Judy, to say a prayer for both Judy and her family and to cover them all in your love today.

A Pause for Judy is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Photo Books

Jenna — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 03:54:50 +0000

I’ve been toying with making a photo book for each of our visits. Or, specifically, the more recent visits.

It’s funny to me that, while on a visit, I don’t always take a lot of photos. Me. The lady with the camera permanently glued to her eye socket under most circumstances. I am always snapping photos, taking pictures, preserving memories. It’s part of who I am, what I do.

But I get to Munchkin’s house and, first off, I’m tired due to the drive. And then, as she rushes forward and first hugs my sons and then me… I forget to take the photos. I am lost in the moment. In her hair. In her eyes. In her presence. I hate that I end up with, mostly, a few forced, posed pictures. I want more, but I can’t pull myself away from her to actually take more. It’s as if we need a photographer to follow us around reality TV style just so I can have the photos.

Though, to give myself some credit, the past two visits were good photo visits. In June, I also brought along the waterproof camera and let the kids have a field day in the pool with it. In November, I was able to photograph the Munchkin’s last two soccer games, so I have some really good action shots. These two visits made me want to make photo books. It would be nearly impossible to go back to the beginning, pre-digital, and make some, but I think I’ll start working my way backward.

I make photo books of seasons, big vacations (beach, camping), holidays, and birthdays for the four of us who live under this roof, so it just feels right to continue on and make some for the visits that we are so blessed to have with Munchkin and her family.

It doesn’t hurt that Snapfish keeps having stellar buy one, get two free sales. Not at all. I wonder if I can get two done before the end of their current sale. I bet I can. You know, if I don’t sleep. Which I don’t in December. So go!

Photo Books is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Dear @Klout, Here’s What I Was Doing This Weekend

Jenna — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 15:37:53 +0000

I lost Klout this weekend. Because I wasn’t doing much tweeting. Except for the occasional funny “overheard” tweet like, “There’s nothing more that I want to do than eat cake off Justin Beiber’s face.”

Instead, here’s what I did this weekend:

I drove seven hours with two boys by myself. We only stopped once; this is a new record. They jumped on the trampoline while I caught up with Dee. We ate spaghetti and everyone laughed while BigBrother pronounced it as skahbetti; he didn’t know why they were laughing as no one corrected him (why would they?), so he laughed too. I panicked that something was wrong with LittleBrother — like some rare form of kindey-disease induced diabetes — as he went to the bathroom every fifteen minutes our first evening there; he was just checking out the remodeled bathroom. He is a bathroom tourist. I had my first Salted Caramel hickamajig from Starbucks; new favorite! I stayed up too late talking with Dee trying to find bad television to watch and snort-laughing about silly things.

And that was Friday.

I woke up far too early thanks to the two little dudes in my bedroom. I fed my sons. I ate a bagel and played on Facebook. I showered and made myself look presentable. We all ate lunch. I moved car seats from my car to Dee’s and cut my hand in the process. I went to Munchkin’s soccer game. I took pictures. I cried. I watched children jump on the trampoline some more. I went for sushi with Dee and Munchkin. (More on that tomorrow!) I found gold coins for the boys’ birthday party at Party City, where Munchkin tried on all of the sunglasses. We stopped at the grocery store to buy snacks for the last soccer game the next day. I endured an epic meltdown from LittleBrother because no one wanted to watch a movie that the other three kids didn’t want to watch; I eventually calmed him down, but all of the kids ditched Rio in less than 20 minutes. Dee and I let all four kids help make strawberry cupcakes; I think we deserve some kind of reward. I got the kids to fall asleep quite easily that night as they were exhausted. I went to Chickie & Pete’s with Dee; it was packed, so we ate our crab fries standing in a corner. Then we went to Target and I bought shiny shoes in kids’ sizes because I have crazy small feet. I stayed up too late again and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

And that was Saturday.

I got to sleep until 7:30 and woke up to my sons sleeping in weird positions. I got them fed and gave them baths in the newly remodeled tub — which they thought was fantastic! I cried in the shower and got myself ready again. I helped Denise put soccer balls, flags and sprinkles on the cupcakes. I endured another epic meltdown from LittleBrother because he wanted to zip his sweatshirt his own damn self. I cried again. We went to the soccer game where my sons were mad because I wouldn’t let them play in the dirt — as we would be getting home late and not have time for a bath before bed so they weren’t gross before school this morning. Munchkin played a great game. And I cried again. We had lunch back at Dee’s house and the kids jumped on the trampoline with Dee watching while I packed the car. I cried again. I sat with Munchkin for a little bit before we left. I took some photos of the kids and Dee took one of me and the Munchkin — which I hate because my face is swollen due to salt intake this weekend. We said our goodbyes. We got in the car, got gas, money for tolls and bagels and hit the road. I cried again. The boys slept, woke up, argued, did a quick pit stop, complained when Burger King at the Sideling Hill rest stop on the turnpike forgot to put our water in the bags and fell back to sleep. I cried again. We arrived home 7 hours after leaving. My husband helped me get the kids inside, watered, bathroomed, pajamaed and in bed. I smelled the roses that my husband got for me, had a glass of wine, cried on my husband, briefly blogged as it’s NaBloPoMo, and fell asleep.

And that was Sunday.

So, Klout, you’ll just have to excuse me for not making time to, as your note says, “share more content and engage with my network.” Those in “my network” knew that I was traveling to see my daughter were engaged with me. They liked photos on Facebook. They sent kind messages on Facebook and twitter, even though they knew I couldn’t and/or wouldn’t take the time to reply to each and every note. They sent emails reminding me to be gentle with myself. They covered me with love that I so desperately need when I am enduring a visit. They have sent me more messages this morning offering love, understanding, compassion and offers to meet for coffee.

So while I wasn’t retweeting their tweets or sharing their links or asking questions or creating conversation, “my network” was doing what a network should be doing: caring for me in my hour(s) of need. And quite honestly, I was doing what I should be doing as well: engaging with my family when I am lucky enough to be in their combined midst. That, combined with the love of “my network,” (who, by the way, I like to just call “my friends”) is worth far more than any of the “perks” that “your network” is supposed to offer me if I use twitter, Facebook and other social media outlets in the way that you deem acceptable.

My network — my friends — deserve more than a $10 Subway gift card or the smallest bottle of Axe hair gel (which my husband has deemed awful, by the way) for the love that they showered me with this weekend. So take your network and shove it, Klout.

My network is more valuable to me than your score ever will be.

(Before anyone accuses me of not doing enough of x, y or z on this visit, please note that not everything was included in this post. Thank you!)

Dear @Klout, Here’s What I Was Doing This Weekend is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Reluctant Thoughts on This Week’s Parenthood and Glee

Jenna — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 20:34:50 +0000

I made the very calculated decision not to watch Parenthood and Glee on the same night this week. I knew that with it being November sweeps, both coming back from a week or more off and both wanting the ratings that the adoption mess was going to be, well, messy. I watched Parenthood as it aired on Tuesday night. I then watched Glee on Wednesday afternoon. They were so awful that it took me until Thursday afternoon to write about the episodes.

I honestly could have skipped them both and my life would have been better for it. It was a poorly written week for both shows.

Parenthood did not surprise me as I was twelve kinds of curious and had already viewed the sushi scene online. It was not out of character for Julia to react as she did; we know she’s a control freak. We know she doesn’t possess the “casual” gene. I “get” all of that. I understand that the writers are being true to Julia’s character in these interactions. But couldn’t Sarah have adopted? Couldn’t we have seen a kind of spastic in a different way, not as rigid and certainly not as judgmental potential adoptive mom? I’m not sure Kristina would really be any better, so I’m glad they just knocked her up instead of having her persue adoption. Jasmine would probably be the best one to not freak the heck out during the adoption process, as she was a single mother for so many years, but she’s got her own issues to deal with right now, doesn’t she?

No, Julia’s overreaction to the sushi and her manipulative offer of kale (…) didn’t really push my buttons. I just rolled my eyes at Julia and said, “Oh, Julia.” What killed me, however, were the reactions that Zoe (Latte Girl) had to what Julia had to say.

There is a tension between birth and adoptive parents, even in the best of situations. I know that I am on edge during visits with Munchkin’s Mom for one specific reason: I don’t want her to judge my parenting in a negative manner. Not that she would, but there’s the absolute, deep-down need to be viewed as an equal, as “good enough,” or, really, as more than good enough. The looks that Zoe made when Julia was reproaching her and, later, when Julia was offering her food, made me think back to the times that I felt judged. They were of my own doing as Dee wasn’t judging me. But it’s a hard thing to be thrown backward into that place of insecurity (not good enough to parent your child anyway) and having someone know more than you know about seemingly everything parenting involved. It’s hard. It’s just hard. And watching Zoe deal with all of that brought up a bunch of my old insecurities.

I also have to say that I am left feeling so very sad for Zoe (whom I acknowledge is not a real human being) in that the relationship she is building with Braverman family will experience such a wildly swinging change in dynamic once the baby is born. Will they discuss or address that? Will they show how prior to birth, mothers considering relinquishment kind of have all the control (even though Julia is fighting that)? And how after the baby is born, that control is completely stripped and the new birth mother is left without any understanding of what her role is or how to handle her new position? Or are they just going to send her away completely? My heart will break with any result.

We’re all sitting around, watching and waiting for a mother to be separated from her child — and it is honestly tearing me up. I swear — I SWEAR — if they extend Zoe’s pregnancy past November sweeps and into December — and this baby is BORN on Munchkin’s birthday (WHICH IS A TUESDAY), I will just be obliterated. That said, my prediction is by the end of this month, we will have said hello to baby and goodbye to Zoe — though spoiler rumors indicate some further plot twists (involving fathers! and boyfriends!), so we might make it until December or even January.

And now for Glee: What a waste of an episode.

Those I tweet with on the show warned me before I pressed play: the episode was no good. It wasn’t even the ridiculous adoption storylines throughout the episode. It was the whole episode. It was a flop character wise, issues, musically, just as a whole. Way to start of sweeps month with a flop, Glee writers. Guess you’re not the unicorn either.

I digress. Let’s hit the adoption issues, shall we?

I already knew from the spoilers that Puck and Shelby were going to kiss. Apparently Glee is going for shock-value here, forgetting that Juno already played this card and it was met with negative feedback. All the same, I’m glad that Puck removed the contraband from Shelby’s apartment. I’ve always had a soft spot for him for many reasons: he can sing, the guitar, the dancing, the hot factor and, yes, he’s a birth father. Also, he’s a smartass and I love him for that. But I hope Shelby puts him in his place next time around (though the next episode seems heavy laden with first time sex — oh joy!).

As far as Quinn goes, can someone get this girl some help? Honestly. Can Puck set her down or take her to see the doe-eyed guidance counselor? Can we just hurry along her plunge to rock bottom and have her realize that she needs the help on her own? Something — anything — but what they’re doing here. It’s obvious that Quinn is absolutely stuck in the denial phase of her grieving process. She can’t “get her baby back,” and she doesn’t even seem to realize that as she tries to sabotage Shelby as an adoptive mom. Calling children’s services?

But I get it. As Quinn launched into her rant to Puck after admitting she called children’s services, I cried pretty hard.

Everybody has their big plans: colleges, New York, even you have your stupid pool cleaning business. I mean, what do I have? Beth is perfect. She’s my perfect thing. Something even I can’t screw up. Do you know how hard it is to do something perfectly? I’ll never get that chance again. So even if I never leave this town or accomplish anything, I’ll have her to call mine.

As an active, everyday parent to two boys, I see the flaw in that line of thinking. Now. I created two perfect little boys and am doing a bang up job at screwing them up in spite of my love and devotion and time and awesomeness. Back when I was pregnant with the Munchkin, without the blessing of hindsight, I also saw my daughter as this perfect thing that I had made. But different from Quinn, I was so afraid of screwing her up; that my health and inability to have “stuff” for her would be cheating her out of a life that she deserved and thus start her off screwed up. Little did I know that lack of stuff (or the flip of too much stuff) means so very little in how we parent our children… that we’re going to screw them up anyway. We are. And still, they will be okay. And screw their kids up in their own ways.

Which brings us back to the question: Where is Quinn’s post-placement care? Where is her social worker making sure that she has access to the therapy that she so desperately needs? So she can make sense of her emotions, her feelings, her loss, her grief, her role as a birth mother in a suddenly open adoption. We’re looking at this very over-dramatic “birth mom plots to take back the baby” storyline and that’s all anyone is talking about. The real question should be: WHERE IS HER POST-PLACEMENT CARE? Why is she being forced to do this alone? Where is the discussion on that? Where is the discussion about ethical treatment of birth parents in the post-placement lifetime? Why is it just about how Quinn is off her rocker? Why isn’t the blame being cast on the bigger issue?

And really, Quinn and Zoe are two sides of the same coin. One is dealing with pre-coin-flip stuff: Zoe is awash in self-doubt and glamorizing adoptive parents and generally dealing with the emotional stuff of pre-placement. One is dealing with post-con-flip stuff: Quinn is awash in self-doubt and realizing adoptive parents aren’t perfect and generally dealing with the emotional stuff of post-placement. As someone far enough removed from the immediacy of it all, it’s hard to watch. It’s even harder to look at both of those girls and realize, while not televised and certainly less dramatic, there are pieces of Zoe and Quinn in my story as well.

After watching both Parenthood and Glee this week, I felt drained. Just drained. To watch Zoe battle her own demons and put her faith in Julia took me back to a place where I didn’t view myself as any better than — well, anything or anyone. I doubted myself so much and I just want someone to ask Zoe, “Is this really what you want to do? If it’s not, let’s find a way to make this work for you.” To watch Quinn battle the post-placement demons all alone is so disheartening. Of course, it’s the truth as to how so many birth parents are treated: no resources, no respect. Just go out and figure it out on your own, but be quiet about it while you’re at it, okay? Okay.

I want to take both of these young women into my arms and tell them that there’s so much more for the both of them — in different ways. It scares me that there are young women making decisions about their pregnancies right now who are watching these shows. Knowing that pre-placement and post-placement counseling are no where near what they need to be, the truth is that too many base their opinions of adoption on what they see on TV, in books and in other forms of media. If we’re not telling these mothers that they can have and deserve more, who will?

Who will?

Reluctant Thoughts on This Week’s Parenthood and Glee is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.