more adoption stuff
Jun. 14th, 2003 12:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_siobhanI've been in a really weird mood all week.
It started because I went to Chidren's Aid on Tuesday. I answered a bunch of questions about who I am now, signed a release form that gives them permission to give my daughter my contact information, and came home with a bundle of paper about the process.
Along with the lists of support groups and other stuff, there was a copy of the Centre's record of her adoption for me to review for errors. (There were a few. Apparently I am 5'3" and love baseball.)
Her bio-father had been a ward of the CAS, and I found out a whole lot of stuff about him that I hadn't known before -- that I don't think he knew. Like that he had a half-brother who was hospitalized for schizophrenia.
And of course I found out a bunch of stuff about her. I hadn't known that she was born with a heart murmur. (She grew out of it.)
I found out her name.
I think that's the point where it finally hit home. This is real. She's a person, with a life and history I know nothing about.
It's... weird.
Part of my reaction to is from reading about the circumstances of her birth as they are described in the files. It makes us sound so rational, two normal kids trying to do the right thing. I wonder if that is what we really looked like to the sweet, maternal, slightly dotty woman who was our caseworker, if she was really that oblivious. Or if she recorded that way knowing that the baby would one day grow up and want to read about how she got here.
And what the hell am I going to tell her about that? About her father?
I'm digging up an awful lot of dead bodies here. Things that I had thought long ago dealt with. They're pretty stinky.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still happy -- but I'm also more than a little freaked.
The worst part of all this is that I haven't really been able yet to sit and chew on it all in my own head. I have the keys to an empty apartment in the city, and a deep desire to get a bottle of wine and just stew by myself for an evening -- but I haven't had the time. The four days off from the sucky job that were supposed to happen this week got pared down into one, and I have just an insane amount of stuff to deal with right now for the not-sucky job which has me completely overwhelmed. And of course a stack of things-I-have-to-do-real-soon-now (paying my bills might be a good idea, just for an example) that is threatening to topple over and bury my desk.
The whole situation has been making me kind of... well, moody.
So. How did I deal with all this emotional turmoil, you might ask?
Simple. I went out last night and saw The Dwarves.
'Cause it's really hard to be angsty when you are listening to really loud punk-rock.
(But I still might do that sit at home by myself thing tonight.)
It started because I went to Chidren's Aid on Tuesday. I answered a bunch of questions about who I am now, signed a release form that gives them permission to give my daughter my contact information, and came home with a bundle of paper about the process.
Along with the lists of support groups and other stuff, there was a copy of the Centre's record of her adoption for me to review for errors. (There were a few. Apparently I am 5'3" and love baseball.)
Her bio-father had been a ward of the CAS, and I found out a whole lot of stuff about him that I hadn't known before -- that I don't think he knew. Like that he had a half-brother who was hospitalized for schizophrenia.
And of course I found out a bunch of stuff about her. I hadn't known that she was born with a heart murmur. (She grew out of it.)
I found out her name.
I think that's the point where it finally hit home. This is real. She's a person, with a life and history I know nothing about.
It's... weird.
Part of my reaction to is from reading about the circumstances of her birth as they are described in the files. It makes us sound so rational, two normal kids trying to do the right thing. I wonder if that is what we really looked like to the sweet, maternal, slightly dotty woman who was our caseworker, if she was really that oblivious. Or if she recorded that way knowing that the baby would one day grow up and want to read about how she got here.
And what the hell am I going to tell her about that? About her father?
I'm digging up an awful lot of dead bodies here. Things that I had thought long ago dealt with. They're pretty stinky.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still happy -- but I'm also more than a little freaked.
The worst part of all this is that I haven't really been able yet to sit and chew on it all in my own head. I have the keys to an empty apartment in the city, and a deep desire to get a bottle of wine and just stew by myself for an evening -- but I haven't had the time. The four days off from the sucky job that were supposed to happen this week got pared down into one, and I have just an insane amount of stuff to deal with right now for the not-sucky job which has me completely overwhelmed. And of course a stack of things-I-have-to-do-real-soon-now (paying my bills might be a good idea, just for an example) that is threatening to topple over and bury my desk.
The whole situation has been making me kind of... well, moody.
So. How did I deal with all this emotional turmoil, you might ask?
Simple. I went out last night and saw The Dwarves.
'Cause it's really hard to be angsty when you are listening to really loud punk-rock.
(But I still might do that sit at home by myself thing tonight.)
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-14 02:27 pm (UTC)How 'bout...good luck.